TW self-harm. Sorry guys, I promise our girl will be okay one day soon.

"You seemed really shaken up earlier." They were walking back to the apartment, trying to race the autumn sun as it sped toward the cloudy horizon. Kakashi was watching her so closely it made Sakura's skin prickle. "You didn't really stay up all night, did you?"

"It was just a bad dream. Everybody has them sometimes." She adjusted her scarf against the biting cold. That, at least, felt real.

"Was it about the genjutsu? I can imagine it would be hard to sleep after something like that. Especially for you," he added.

"Why especially for me?"

"Because you broke out. Remember what Obito said the day the war ended? Why would anyone want to leave paradise? I know you've been...withdrawn, since then, but I'd hoped that was just with me and maybe you were talking to someone else about what happened to you. But even in your report to Tsunade you just glossed over everything related to what your dream was actually about."

"Wait," Sakura ground to a halt, boots crunching on dead leaves, "you read my report?"

Kakashi appeared unabashed. "I asked Tsunade for it. I'm worried about you, Sakura-chan."

"Why?" She hadn't meant to say it so loudly or sound so tortured, but the word burst from her like a gout of blood. She no longer knew if she was interrogating him as a potential figment of her imagination, or simply taking her frustrations out on anything that wore her good-for-nothing teacher's face.

"Because I care about you," he told her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She wanted to punch him until he stopped breathing. Instead, she forced herself to smile.

"It's probably just cabin fever from being so long without a mission. Want to go let off some steam at the training grounds?"

It was partly a deflection, partly a test; if he said no, that would make him more like the original, definitely-real Kakashi from her genin days, who never had time for his mediocre third student. If he said yes, then this reality was no more or less suspicious than the one she called home. That Kakashi, the one from before everything had gone horribly awry (the point of waking up, or the point of falling under?) had always had time for her. She could still feel the ghost of his hand on hers.

This Kakashi nodded. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea."

Sakura wanted to kill him. Sakura wanted him to kill her.

She levelled a punch to his gut without bothering to dodge his returning kick. His foot collided with her hip and forced her back a step, causing her punch to fall short of its target. Undaunted, she ducked low to grab the offending leg and drag it out from under him. He aimed a punch at her head, trying to make her lose her grip, but she welcomed the blossoming pain across her temple.

She squeezed tighter, meaning to break his leg, but he threw himself onto his back and used his other leg to kick her square in the face. She could smell blood in her nose, and Kakashi slipped free when her hands instinctively rose to protect her face from another blow.

He backed up, trying to put enough distance between them to use a jutsu. Even without the sharingan he was a master of multiple elemental types. For her part, Sakura knew barely any elemental jutsu, and none of it had come from his teachings. But she could still punch a hole in a person if they gave her the chance.

She sprang for Kakashi, grabbing his shoulder with her left hand so that she could hold him still while she punched him into the shelf of rock at his back. It felt like an obvious trap to place himself against a wall like that, but she was tired of trying to 'see underneath the underneath' and out-think the people around her. For once let things be simple: win or lose. Kill or die.

Kakashi twisted himself out of her way, using her momentum to help her fist along its original course. With a jab of his fingers that was so fast she almost missed it entirely, he struck for the pressure point on her wrist. It wasn't a perfect hit (only the Hyuuga could actually see the points and not rely on approximations), but it was enough for her chakra to falter a split second before her hand made contact with the rock.

There was a crunching noise, and she watched as her unprotected fist brought the full force of her punch against the boulder and lost. Pain, more acute than anything that had come before, shot up her ruined fingers and dislocated wrist like a lightning bolt. She gasped aloud; she was no stranger to pain, of course, but had never before appreciated the clarity it could bring with it.

"Are you okay?" Kakashi sounded close by and far away all at once. His face was twisted with some strong emotion, but Sakura didn't feel the need to analyse it. There was only her and her pain. Her and the blood on her knuckles. Adrenaline coursed through her body in an attempt to distract her, but it only served to heighten the pain, coat it in chemical pleasure.

That fucking HURT. Even her inner voice felt a little louder.

"Sakura-chan, can you heal yourself?" Kakashi's hand was on her shoulder, shaking it gently. "You can't form seals in this state. I should take you to the hospital."

She scoffed. This was nothing. This was great. For the first time in forever her head felt empty, everything but pain filed away as a secondary concern. She forced her broken fingers to make the healing seals, just to prove she could, and half-reluctantly began the work of putting everything back where it belonged.

"Don't push yourself, Sakura-chan." Kakashi's hand was still on her shoulder, his black eyes glowing with the reflection of her blue-green chakra. He was a fool for thinking something this minor would concern her; she wasn't even using Thousand Healings.

"See? Good as new." She flexed her fingers without so much as a twinge of pain. She'd also fixed her nose because the drying blood was starting to tickle.

Kakashi still seemed agitated. "We should stop for tonight." Before she could answer he had turned on his heel and began walking toward home.

"Afraid I'll hurt you?" Sakura smirked, but she fell into step with him. She wanted to go home, too; her bed no longer scared her.

She was back in the hospital room, watching her adult self sleeping peacefully in the bed below. It must have been night-time there as well, because the main lights were off and the room was bathed in the dim bluish glow of medical equipment.

It would have been past visiting hours, but a figure sat by her bed. His silver hair stuck up at all angles, glowing like a pale flame in the relative gloom. He held her hand again, still running his thumb across her palm in a comforting way. For all she knew, he had been there the entire time.

"Sai said he and Ino might come by tomorrow," he murmured softly. "Apparently Ino's got an idea about tapping into your subconscious using smells, so she's probably going to bring half the florist with her. Still, it'll brighten up the place for when you do come back."

His hand squeezed hers tightly. "Please make sure it's soon, Sakura. Do whatever you have to do, but come back soon. Everyone misses you so much."

DAY THREE

Sakura woke to the sound of rain, with a terrible gnawing in her heart. She checked her clock; Obito would be at the compound by now, but she and Kakashi weren't expected until 9. They had agreed to walk together, but instead Sakura scribbled a quick note and slid it under Kakashi's door before heading out early.

"Good morning, Sakura-chan," Obito greeted her warmly. "You should have let me know you were on your way; I would have grabbed two more cups." He gestured to the teapot steaming on the table before him.

"It's just me that's early," she said, "Kakashi won't be here until the usual time." Instead of taking her seat, she walked over to the little radio in the corner of the room. After a few moments of fiddling with dials, an old-timey tune warbled through the air. Only then did she sit.

"Tell me everything you know about the other world and how I can get back," she whispered, leaning in so that Obito could hear her over the music.

Obito's eyes closed. "Finally," he exhaled. "I was starting to think you preferred it here; though I can't imagine why." His eyes snapped open. "Ask me anything."

"Which world is real, and which is the illusion?"

"That's the wrong question, Medic-chan. You're still thinking in terms of real and not-real, instead of just here and there."

She glared. "No more riddles, Obito. I want all the answers before I do anything."

"Fine then. This world is a fake and the other world is real. You've suspected this for a while, right?" He squeezed her hand sympathetically. "But you also know how to get back, or we wouldn't be having this conversation." His hand was warm from the mug of tea he had been holding. Sakura was surprised to find herself comforted instead of repulsed.

She told him everything: the moment she must have first encountered the genjutsu, when Kakashi and the others started acting strange and she jumped off a bridge in a bid to escape them; the experience of "waking up" back in the past and thinking it meant the last several years had all been a lie; the struggle to adjust to her old life, and the recent dreams that were really messages from her world, restoring her hope.

"My daughter, Sarada, said I had to listen to my enemies instead of my friends because the dream would try to trick me into staying."

"She's right. That's why I said you need to help me get out of here, so that I can guide you back to your world. My control seals prevent me from using time-space jutsu, but it's the key to escaping this prison," he tapped the table, "and that one." He tapped her forehead.

"That...makes sense," she concluded, because that's what her heart was telling her. But her head throbbed with the implications of what they were discussing. She pulled her hand free from Obito's grasp and rubbed her face. "Getting you out of here might be tough, though."

Obito frowned. "You're still thinking of this place as your home. It's not real, Sakura. The people here aren't real, so it isn't wrong if you hurt them."

Wrong, her mind whispered, and she wasn't sure if it was a contradiction or an echo.

"The longer you wait, the stronger the genjutsu will get. It sounds like you weakened it when you jumped off the bridge and found me, but now that you're so close to escaping, what's to stop Kakashi and the others from attacking you again?"

"Nothing, I suppose." She imagined the Kakashi that lived across the hall and taught her about constellations taking off his face and chasing her through a starlit village. She couldn't do that again.

"Don't give them the chance," Obito pleaded, reaching for her hand again. "You need to get home and protect your real loved ones from whoever did this to you."

She thought of herself lying in a hospital bed surrounded by her family and friends. There was a world where she was older, stronger, and more loved than she would ever be if she stayed here. This world only seemed to promise the worst of herself.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she allowed herself a real smile. She was going home.

The screen door slid open and Kakashi entered. "You're early," he observed.

"Not really!" She practically shouted, snatching her hand away from Obito's. Forcing herself to speak more quietly, she added, "I only just arrived myself."

"I got your note." He sat down. "So, what have you two been talking about?"

His tone was mild, but Sakura's mouth went dry and she found herself unable to speak. Lying to Kakashi's face about her mental state was one thing, but lying about high treason was another entirely. Guilt collided violently with the joy she had felt a moment before he entered, leaving her a mess of nerves. She tapped her hands on the table to work out some of her restless energy.

Obito seemed to pick up on her emotions. "Do you know this song?" he asked her, and Sakura realised he was giving her an excuse. She paused to listen for a moment.

"Everyone knows this song." She sang along with the next line: "While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me."

"Dance with me?" Before she could answer he had stood up and grabbed one of her hands in his. He helped her to her feet and pressed her body against his chest in a typical slow dance position. It did help to have somewhere for her energy to go, and Obito had surprisingly good rhythm for someone who had (presumably) not danced for many years. She tried her best not to fight his lead; she also hadn't danced in a very long time, much less in such odd circumstances.

At one point he dipped her with such exaggerated flair that she giggled aloud. She blushed to have done something so girlish while her actual situation was so dire, but Obito immediately picked up the pace, twirling her repeatedly until she would have fallen over without his support.

"Tomorrow," he murmured in her ear.

She stumbled back, right hand slipping from his left. The floor rushed toward her, but she couldn't seem to move properly to break her own fall. She squeezed her eyes shut.

The impact never came. Her feet shifted back to solid ground and the radio came back into focus, still warbling its love song. She opened her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Kakashi stared down at her, his hands around her waist. He shot Obito a suspicious look. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said, staring at his chest to avoid his eyes. "I'm just a little rusty."

"Jeez Kakashi, If you wanted to cut in that badly you only had to ask." Obito gave a wry bow and sunk back into the kotatsu. "I leave her in your care."

"You sure you're okay?" Kakashi barely seemed to register Obito's words. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." The words came to her lips like old friends. She forced her hands to his shoulders and stepped in time with the music just to show him how fine she was.

Wrong, something inside her repeated, but this time it was so quiet she might have imagined it.

To her surprise, Kakashi stepped with her, smoothly taking the lead in their impromptu dance. His steps were light but assured, trusting her to keep up even as his hands stayed firmly in place as if waiting to catch her again.

As part of a highly combat-oriented team, Sakura had never had much chance to use the subtler skills she had painstakingly learned in those long kunoichi-only academy classes. But the training was still part of her, and she was confident that she could match Kakashi's skill and more. They glided around the room, and Sakura couldn't help but think they must have looked good together.

Stars fading but I linger on dear,

Still craving your kiss

I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear,

Just saying this…

They would have looked even better if she wasn't trapped in her teenage body. Then the moment might have been perfect, even if it were a dream.

She promised herself she would dance with Kakashi again, as soon as she woke up.

After their shift with Obito, Kakashi invited her to dinner at Ichiraku's; he even offered to pay. After slow-dancing with the man, it felt alarmingly like being asked on a date; especially when he gallantly offered her his umbrella. She had been too distracted to grab her own that morning.

"It's supposed to rain for the rest of the week," Kakashi commented as they walked.

"That's a pity," she said, but really it didn't matter. None of this would exist after tomorrow.

Including him.

They ducked under the flags at the entrance, shucking their raincoats and soaking in the warmth and light of the ramen stand.

"Welcome~!" Ayame was working that night, intoning the usual greeting without taking her eyes off the spring onions she was slicing. When she did glance up to take their orders, her eyes flicked from Kakashi to Sakura, then glanced behind them as if waiting for a third person to step out of the rain. "Just you two this evening?"

"That's right." Kakashi slid onto a chair at the bar and patted the one next to him. Ayame was still watching them with open curiosity, and it occurred to Sakura that despite Kakashi being her captain and former teacher in this universe, they never really did this sort of thing alone.

"Seen Naruto lately?" she asked Ayame, just to take the focus off her and her growing blush. Perhaps Obito was right about the genjutsu starting to realise she was close to breaking free. It seemed more determined than ever to manipulate her feelings.

Ayame leaned forward, spring onions forgotten. "Yesterday; and you'll never guess who he was with!"

"Hinata?"

At first Ayame seemed disappointed she had guessed so quickly, but then her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, do you know something about those two that I don't?"

"Only that they're working a local mission together right now, so it probably makes sense that they would both grab dinner after."

"Ah, that's a shame. They'd make such a cute couple, you know?" Her gaze flicked from Sakura to Kakashi before taking their orders without further comment on anyone's love life. Sakura tugged at her scarf, suddenly feeling very warm.

Once they had gotten their order, Kakashi turned to her. His ramen had already disappeared, presumably into his mouth, but once again Sakura had been too slow to see it happen. "So what were you and Obito talking about?"

All illusions of the meal being friendly or even more-than-friendly evaporated on the spot. "When?"

"When you were dancing and he whispered something in your ear, or even this morning before I arrived. You've been all over the place lately, and I'm worried it's because of him."

None of it was real, hadn't been real from that day her Kakashi had become a faceless horror. But despite getting more sleep and being able to see more of her real loved ones, part of her suddenly felt very tired.

"Why the sudden change in tune, Kakashi? You're the one who said you still want to help him despite everything he's done." She didn't bother to mask her hostility. "So why can't I talk to him?"

"You can," Kakashi said. "Dance with him, talk to him, play hanafuda with him. Just don't trust him. Not yet."

Why did it have to be him? Of all the faces she knew and loved, why was it always Kakashi's that tried to stop her? "She sat her chopsticks beside her half-full bowl, pushing herself off the stool. "Thanks for the tip, Sensei. So glad I have you watching over me."

Kakashi extended a hand toward her elbow. "Listen..."

"No, you listen!" She hissed. "You are not my teacher, you are not my captain, you are not my friend. Drop the facade and leave me alone."

The rain was soaked through to her skin before she realised she'd forgotten her raincoat when she stormed off, but there was no way she was going back. Let the not-Kakashi be the confused one for once.

Her apartment was close, but she passed it by on her way to the training grounds where nobody would think to go in this weather. The trees and rocks glistened in the dark, like everything had been dipped in glass. She wanted to break it, shatter the whole world and her jumbled thoughts along with it.

She eyed one of the larger boulders, remembering the clarity that pain had brought her last night. Could she bring herself to do it again, on purpose? It was an uncomfortable thought for a medic, even knowing it was just a dream and the real Uchiha Sakura was lying safe in a hospital bed somewhere.

Instead of breaking her hand, she formed a chakra scalpel. Slowly, experimentally, she dragged it across the back of her hand. The fresh pain brought another shot of adrenaline, tethering her to the present moment and blotting out uncomfortable thoughts of the future. She gasped at the sight of her blood, no longer pinpricks on grazed knuckles but a proper, flowing wound. As quickly as it welled up, the rain washed it away.

Her body was used to healing quickly, but she held off this time. Instead, she wrapped her hand in a hasty bandage, just enough to get her home without raising eyebrows. She wanted to see how far she could take this.

An hour had passed; or perhaps it was longer? There wasn't a clock in her bathroom, and even if there were, she doubted she could read the numbers. Everything felt simultaneously sharp and soft; sharp pain, and soft euphoria.

The water in her bath was the colour of roses, hiding the shape of her submerged body under the murky haze of her own blood. Lifting her right leg, she inspected the skin of her thigh. It was red with a dozen recently-healed cuts. She'd been sure to spread them around, unwilling even in a dream to push the Hayflick Limit and do anything irreversible. As it was, the medic in her was duly appalled. She had cut herself over and over, savouring each burst of pain before healing it away to a memory. Each time she felt that same thrill of vitality that she had gotten from the broken hand, but without the added worry of setting bones properly. She wondered if her real body, hooked to all its machines and monitors, was registering some sort of response to the pain. Was there a sudden spike in her brain activity? Did it give her loved ones hope?

When she was no longer able to regenerate blood at the rate that she was losing it, she pulled herself out of the bath and watched the rosy water gurgle away. Clothes seemed unnecessarily complicated at that point, so she settled for just throwing on her bathrobe. Her bed looked more inviting than ever, so she flung herself down and hoped that her dreams would be kind.

Sarada was coming home today. Everyone in Team Seven had gathered to greet her at the bridge: Sasuke and Naruto were scowling, standing opposite one another like guardian statues, and Sakura was waiting in the middle with Kakashi.

"She should be here by now," she said, watching the end of the bridge for any sign of her daughter.

"Who?" Kakashi asked.

"Sarada, of course."

"Who?" he repeated, and Sakura turned to look at him. His face was missing, warped by a spinning, sucking void.

She tried to move away from him, but her whole body felt cold and stiff as though in the rigors of death.

"There's no running this time, Sakura-chan." The void grew larger, reaching out. "You'll have to kill me."

Please, no.

"Wake up, Sakura-chan."

Not again!

"Wake up!"

She opened her eyes. Kakashi was leaning over her, mask up and dire urgency in his eyes. "Wake up, Sakura-chan." He shook her shoulder, sending pins and needles shooting up her arm. Her head roiled with vertigo.

She tried to sit up, but her body was still unnaturally heavy and refused to obey her commands. After what felt like hours, she managed to speak.

"What's wrong?"

Kakashi pressed two fingers to her neck, clearly checking for a pulse. "Where are you hurt?" he asked, and Sakura frowned.

"Nowhere…?"

"Your entire apartment reeks of blood," he told her, and Sakura mentally cursed.

She sat up finally, tugging her bathrobe closer and trying to focus on the situation she had found herself in. Her raincoat lay next to her on the bed; Kakashi must have been bringing it back to her. The room still spun a little and her head throbbed from the dehydration and chakra exhaustion, but she raised her arms to show she was unhurt. "I'm fine, see?"

Kakashi seemed unconvinced. "What happened here? I could smell the blood all the way from your front door."

No getting around the famous Hatake nose. "I cut myself shaving," she lied, gesturing lamely to the bathroom. "But I healed it up, good as new."

Slowly, Kakashi got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. He only got halfway before wincing back as though something physically repelled him.

"That's a lot of blood."

Sakura shrugged. "It was a bad cut. But like I said, it's fine now. All healed up." She gave him a bland smile, mentally begging him to leave. The light filtering through her window told her that tomorrow had officially arrived.

The masked face didn't warp, didn't reveal the evil within. It just continued to watch her with concern bordering on pain, and she hated it for that. "We have our visit with Obito soon," he reminded her.

Obito (or rather, the dream-thing that wore Obito's face) wanted her to kill the thing with Kakashi's face in order for them both to escape. If she went to the Uchiha compound that morning she knew, with absolute certainty, that he would talk her into doing it. Even now the urge to go was strong. But it was unfair. Kakashi was the last constant in her life, the last assurance that as long as he lived, he would protect her. And now she had to kill him? She was so tired of caring about the man only to have those feelings twisted against her.

"I'm not going," she decided, sliding off the bed and gesturing for Kakashi to leave. "Tell Obito I have a headache." That, at least, wasn't a lie. By now her head was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself think.

When he just stood there staring at her, she shoved him lightly in the chest. "Go on! One of us has to be there or he'll think we abandoned him." His chest felt so solid.

"I'll check in on you later," he told her, and she nodded.

"Sure." It wouldn't matter.

Kakashi pulled her broken apartment door more-or-less closed behind him, and she wondered if he and the others simply blinked out of existence once they left her sight.

Despite her reputation for being extremely clever, Sakura also had a reputation for punching her way out of a lot of her problems. Now that the decision had been made to avoid Obito (and the physical confrontation that would have certainly occurred), doubt gnawed at her like a physical entity. Had she abandoned her only chance of ever waking up from this nightmare? Perhaps she should go after all. She grabbed her clothes from yesterday and started pulling them on, barely registering their musty odour from lying damp on the floor overnight. She could tell Kakashi she started feeling better shortly after he left. Or maybe she could just take him by surprise and subdue him without killing him, then grab Obito without calling down half the village on their heads.

If only she could release the genjutsu by herself, she wouldn't have to break her heart in the process.

Impossible. Obito is the key.

No!

But Obito was her key to escaping; he had said so himself, and she believed him.

Trust Obito.

NO!

She trusted him. Every time she saw him she felt more confident, more assured that he was the only one telling the truth.

Yesyesyesyesyes….

Nononononono…

But she didn't want to hurt Kakashi, either. Would he fight back like last time? Would it be worse if he didn't?

It's not real. He's tricking you.

It's not real! He's tricking you!

If only her head would stop hurting. It pounded as though a whole army were knocking on it from the inside.

"Wake up, Sakura."

HARUNO SAKURA, YOU WAKE UP RIGHT NOW, DAMNIT!

She cried out, dropping to her knees with her face in her hands. It felt like she was stuck in Amaterasu again, ears roaring with the sound of her own burning body. The agony crested, but mercifully ebbed back to a dull ache before it became too much to bear. The voices grew quieter too. They were all still there, she knew, desperate for her to listen but afraid of breaking her completely. Which one was her own?

"Enough," she ground out, climbing to her feet. If thinking was too painful, then she would simply act.

The banks of the river were marshy, churned to mud by the rain, but the river itself seemed deceptively calm. Moulding chakra to the bottoms of her bare feet, Sakura stepped out onto its surface a little ways down from the main bridge. More than once she wobbled, arms pinwheeling to keep her steady, but she persisted.

Only when she was at the deepest part did she stop, staring down at her rippling reflection in the water. She had thrown on her raincoat and grabbed an umbrella, more for the sake of appearances than to avoid getting wet. That, she thought wryly, would have been beside the point.

One breath. Her chakra was still low from the night before, so she wouldn't be able to keep standing there forever.

Two breaths. If this was wrong, would the dream change yet again? She hoped so.

Three breaths. Someone was on the bridge. Now or never.

She dropped the chakra, and the river claimed her. Her umbrella was ripped from her hands, lost in an instant to the powerful current. Her coat dragged her down, wrapping around her body like a shroud.

She kept her eyes open, watching flashing colour slowly turn to pulsing black.

Please let me wake up.

A crashing sound broke through the rushing in her ears, and her body lurched in the wake of another body diving into the water beside her. Strong hands grabbed her arms, tearing her coat from her shoulders…

Someone was kissing her. Was Sasuke home?

The kiss began to hurt, pressure building in her lungs. Her eyes flew open, and someone's lips left hers just before a stream of river water burst from her mouth. She doubled over coughing, body heaving and hands digging into the river silt. Her insides were burning, her chakra working of its own accord to reoxygenate her dying cells.

A hand rested on her back. Slowly, her gasping subsided and she was able to look up. Kakashi sat beside her on the riverbank, every bit as wet as she. Mud stained his hands and stuck to his clothes, and water ran in rivulets down his face. Sakura watched, awestruck, as he raised a wet sleeve to wipe a streak of mud from his chin. His bare chin.

"Your face..."

Something snapped in her mind. Memories flooded in, too many to process at once. One in particular rose to the surface.

"Don't you want to go back?"

That's what Obito had said, the day the war ended. He had grabbed her hand and stared at her so intensely that she couldn't bring herself to look away. His eyes had been so strange…

"Genjutsu."

He had tricked her. He'd done something to her head, sown just enough doubt in her own reality to make her desperate to go back to the world she knew. Every time he touched her hand, she had felt such trust, such willingness to believe he was telling her the truth.

The old grief struck her like a wound reopening. She doubled over, trying to scream but only managing a hoarse sob. Sarada was gone; had never existed after all. She could remember now, all the times the genjutsu had worn thin and forced her to forget. All the headaches, the lost time. But none of it erased the love.

Kakashi grabbed her face between his hands. "Listen to me: this isn't a genjutsu. This is real. It's real, and you're really hurting yourself." His voice was so broken it was almost unrecognisable.

"I know," she told him, placing her hands over his. "I know that now." Her eyes stung, and she squeezed them shut as the first, far-overdue tears began to fall.

To her surprise, Kakashi pulled her into a hug. She collapsed into his warmth, too tired to feel self-conscious. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but when Sakura began to shiver, Kakashi gently pulled away.

"We should go back and get you cleaned up." He seemed so much younger without his mask; more vulnerable. "And then we need to talk."

It should have sounded ominous, but Sakura wanted nothing more than to unburden herself of even a fraction of her pain. "I'd like that. I have a lot to tell you."

Finally ready to admit that we are NOT fine? Her inner voice seemed to be laughing at her. Sure took you long enough.