(A/N: Finally, a GaaSaku fic I can share to ff because it isn't just raw, filthy porn. Anyways, this was for Sakura Week 2022, the theme was Celestial/Shadows. I also unfortunately can't share the art my art partner Carmine made here, so... this sure is a webbed site. Track this down on AO3 if you want to see the superior version, I suppose.)
Sakura's throat stung sour with bile. She had depleted her stomach of food to heave a while ago, and still the cramping would not stop. It felt like her entire body was twisting, like there was an anaconda slithering through her insides and constricting her organs.
If she were smart, she would flee to Tsunade and confess everything. But she wasn't smart. That was how she'd ended up in this mess in the first place: not being smart– and being weak.
She twisted the faucet on, letting water rinse the slimy puddle of spittle down the drain. Cupping her hands together, she splashed water on her face, letting the stab of chill ground her. The movement of her arms made her shoulders flex, filled her with more pain as they moved. She felt a trickle slide down her back, pooling at the ledge of her waistband. These pants were ruined. The shirt, too. Another set of clothes, casualty to bloodstains.
When she had steeled herself, Sakura glanced up. Her reflection stared back at her, hollow-eyed and ghoulish. She looked as soulless as an effigy, little more than an amateur representation of a person. Perhaps it was fitting, since she wasn't really human. At least, not anymore. The wings sprouting from her back, still red and covered with viscera, proved it.
More pain crashed into her brain, and she hunched over the sink to resume vomiting.
Was there any pain as absolute as being left behind? Sakura lived with the knowledge that she wasn't worth staying. First Sasuke, now Naruto. Both had left to pursue other paths, to quest for more power. And here Sakura was, doing drills on her own, moving in inches while they sprinted forward by miles.
Every waking moment, she was aware that no matter how hard she tried, she was only falling farther and farther behind. Everyone she loved was outpacing her. She was as good as obsolete.
In her despair, she somehow got the idea into her head to seek solace in religion. She had never been the devout type, but praying was easy, and she was exhausted from trying other methods. Where was the harm?
She went to a local shrine, stood in front of the small wooden gazebo, trying her best to feel something holy. All she felt was childish. What was she expecting from a place like this? Why was she hoping a higher power would help her? They never had before.
Still, she'd come all this way. For lack of a better solution, she clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes. In her mind, she screamed out for help.
I just want to be enough for them. I want to be important enough to make people stay. To banish this pain once and for all. I need power to make that happen, and I don't have enough of my own. Please, if you're listening, lend me some of yours.
Sakura was not expecting an answer. To her knowledge, that wasn't how these things worked.
Imagine her complete and utter shock when a response came.
Sakura's wings ached. They longed to be free, to fan around her in a cascade of snow white feathers. Instead, they were bound down with medical tape, cramping uncomfortably inside her shirt. It was the best she could do. The mortals were not ready to know of her ascension.
"You're daydreaming again." Tsunade's voice was snappish, which meant she had been trying to get Sakura's attention for a while. The girl promptly gave it, not wanting to invoke the ire of her irritable sensei.
this woman smells of spirits
we do not like her
"Sorry, my lady. Hard to concentrate in this heat."
Tsunade huffed in agreement, readjusting her hat. She wore the official robes of her office, which was a very rare sight indeed. Part of the reason was that they were here on an official diplomatic visit. The other, probably more important part, was that they kept off the sun and were relatively cool. As always, Tsunade was pragmatic. Worldly.
she will burn for her prideful idolatry
"Well, when we get to Suna, I need you to be present and participating," Tsunade chided. "You're my secret weapon, after all."
She gave a lascivious wink, and the angel inside of Sakura screeched in most holy indignation, a sound like a thousand bells chiming at once. Inside her shirt, a slow trickle of sweat traced the cramped space between her wings.
"I do not have much experience in diplomacy," Sakura replied. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be."
"He's your age," Tsunade replied. "All boys that age are stupid, one way or another, and I'm not above you flashing a wink and a smile if it will give us leverage."
we could burn her now
turn her bones to ash
"As you wish, milady," Sakura said, covertly adjusting her shirt so that the lump from her wings wasn't noticeable.
"Please Naruto, I know you're upset, but don't leave–"
"You don't get it, Sakura," Naruto said, brushing off her hand. "I need to get stronger. I need to catch up to Sasuke… and surpass him. So I can bring him back home."
His back was still turned to her. A sob caught in her throat, but she forced it back down. She had cried so many times over these boys, and still they insisted on breaking her heart.
"Stay here with me," Sakura pleaded. "We can train with each other. And when the time is right, we'll bring him home. Together."
The sting from Sasuke's departure was still fresh, still raw in her heart. All she could think about was how she had begged him to stay, how he had left anyway. Now it was repeating, her holding on to Naruto to like he was her last lifeline, only for him to shake her off like she was so much dead weight.
"I'm sorry, Sakura," Naruto said. "If I stay here… I won't be strong enough."
And then he was gone. Not even her tears and heartfelt pleas could get him to stay. And unspoken was the accusation– if he stayed here with Sakura, she would just slow him down. The best way for him to succeed was to leave her behind.
Being forsaken once was a tragedy. But twice– twice was a pattern, and the common denominator was her.
What do I have to do to be good enough to make people stay?
"We can only hope that this Chunin exam is less eventful than the last joint one we held," Tsunade joked.
It was in poor taste, considering that seated across from her at the table was one of the very reasons the last Chunin exam had gone haywire. Gaara steepled his fingers, expertly hiding his mouth, not so expertly hiding his scowl. The entire meeting had been tense, although Tsunade seemed oblivious to it. She didn't restrain her pointed barbs at all, willfully overlooking Gaara's increasing discomfort.
Seated next to Sakura, Shizune was a tight ball of anxiety, her fingers tapping nervously against her knees. Tsunade's glib attitude made Sakura nervous, too. After her near-death experience at the hands of the formerly homicidal redhead seated across from them, she wasn't too eager to press his buttons. However, she sensed that this was some sort of power play on Tsunade's behalf, pushing at him in ways his limited social skills weren't prepared to counter.
the demon deserves eternal torment
do not let his human form fool you
Ever since walking into the room, the angel had been on high alert in her mind. It instinctively distrusted Gaara, which Sakura felt was fair. She wasn't exactly his biggest fan, either.
"We will be administering additional screening and security clearance for participants traveling from villages outside our alliance," Gaara assured, tactfully pretending that was what Tsunade was worried about. "And since Suna is hosting it this time, losses would be smaller on your part, anyways."
The last part was said with just the barest trace of irony. Was that his sense of humor? Sakura had assumed he didn't have one.
"Good point," Tsunade replied with a cackle. "Well, I suppose we can leave it at that for today. Now, where's the best place to get a drink around here?"
"You can ask my attendants to bring you water," Gaara said, brow furrowing in confusion. Sakura was pretty sure that wasn't an attempt at humor, just wide-eyed innocence.
"I meant like booze, kid."
Gaara blinked at her for a moment before replying, "I'm fourteen."
Rolling her eyes, Tsunade waved her hand at Shizune, muttering under her breath about minors. Sakura wasn't eager to follow them. She knew the next several hours would be a pub crawl in which she could not participate. However, her hesitation gave Gaara an opening, and he called after her before she could leave.
"You are Naruto's friend, yes?" he asked, leveling her with his deadly serious gaze. "How is he?"
Oh, nice to see that he remembers me. I wonder if that includes the murder attempt or…?
deliver judgment on his head
wickedness cannot go unpunished
Sakura's brain was buzzing, the internal shrieking of the angel filling her mind. It was the angelic equivalent of a cat puffing up its fur, recoiling at Gaara's approach.
"How should I know?" Sakura shot back, her mind too preoccupied to be anything other than short-tempered. "It's not like he ever talks to me. He left the village to go train."
"Oh."
Gaara stood perfectly still, his gaze still unwavering. Sakura wanted to brush past him and out the door, but she wasn't sure how much rudeness she was allowed to get away with.
"That must be… difficult," Gaara said. "I am sure you miss him."
"Oh, are you? You know how I feel?"
strike down this demon that hides behind the face of a boy
he is not to be trusted
Rather than continue juggling an internal and external conversation at the same time, Sakura brushed past him and out the door. She didn't care if it was rude. If Gaara wanted to retaliate, the angel would be more than eager to give him a run for his money.
The target was a band of Rogue Samurai that had been extorting a local village. Really, Team 10 didn't need her help. No one needed Sakura's help. But she had to train somehow, and with even Kakashi-sensei MIA, her only option was to beg to tag along with other people.
soon they will beg for the glory of our presence
we will show them that we are not to be overlooked
The angel was still a new presence in her mind, and Sakura found it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. She internally hissed at the thing to be quiet, to which it responded with a jingle of bells.
"Sakura, on your right!" Choji called out.
Sakura dodged back, barely missing the swing of a blade. She felt the sharp hiss as it cut the space where she had been, whistling like a bird before dawn.
Ino and Shikamaru were busy covering their rear, which left the advance to her and Choji. The two of them coordinated as well as a drunk ox plowing a field, their new styles unfamiliar to each other. Choji needed space to use his maximum power efficiently, didn't want to risk Sakura getting caught in the crossfire. Meanwhile, Sakura was left with very little fighting skills of her own. Her long-range wasn't long enough to get out of Choji's way, but her skills were too meager to push the enemy back. Again, the same sense of helplessness overwhelmed her.
hope is never lost child
open your mind
i shall do the rest
The angel had promised to increase her power, to aid her in battle. So far, Sakura hadn't seen any evidence of it. She was as weak and useless as ever. However, the angel sounded so confident that she did as it said. Despite being in the middle of a battlefield, she paused where she was, let herself take a deep breath. Just as she had assumed, the second she stopped moving, the enemy turned to her, sword raised. By her own power, she wasn't enough for anything. But the angel told her what to do.
Sakura closed her eyes and prayed. The interior of her mind lit up in white, to the point where she couldn't tell if her eyes were still closed or if she was staring directly into the sun. Inside her soul, she could feel a pulse– the weak trickle of chakra at her center giving way to a flood, the same torrential force of a dam bursting.
Things were in motion outside her body, but she heard them as if she was underwater, saw them not at all. She felt the palms of her hands grow hot, felt something emitting from her. Still all she saw was white. Around her, distant screams. Someone in agony. The angel sang, a single pure note. Usually it was dozens of chimes, a tumultuous tingling that was hard to make out. But in this moment, when it was focused on battle, everything synchronized into one brilliant point. It was somehow even more disorienting.
When at last Sakura's vision cleared, the samurai were gone. Not defeated on the ground. Gone. A pile of ash sat gray and dusty on the forest floor.
Around her, Team 10 gawked. Their expressions might have been either horror or adoration.
pay them no mind
It is the nature of humans to be in awe of us
While the creature inside of her had no physical form, Sakura got the distinct impression that it was preening.
Somehow, sand had gotten inside her bandages. When Sakura changed them that evening, in the small quarters Suna had set aside for the attendants of the Hokage, her wings felt gritty and drab. The wounds around the edge were scabbed over, but still fresh enough to be irritated.
Finally alone, Sakura could at last give them a flex. They longed to stretch, longed to beat against the wind with the sun warm upon them. Everything about the angel desired public displays of grandeur, saw no reason to hide. Sakura knew better. Until she figured out what this was and how to explain it, it was best to keep it to herself. Instinctively, she knew that Tsunade's reaction would be horror. The woman would probably demand Sakura reverse her pact.
Sakura would not, even if her lady ordered it. She stood in front of the mirror and flared her wings, admiring the way they were ivory in the dim atmosphere of her room, practically glowing with the way they threw back the light. They had gotten bigger.
soon you will be a real angel
we will become one and the world shall know of our glory
Her reveries were interrupted by an unexpected one-two beat on her door. Hissing, Sakura snatched the nearest object to conceal her wings, draping the blanket around her shoulders. She was in nothing but her sports bra, the only garment with straps thin enough to wind around her wings. The knock came again, more insistent, and she stalked towards the door with insults on her lips.
Throwing open the door, all ire was purged from her brain when she was met with the coal and cobalt stare of none other than the Kazekage. Sakura had expected one of her mentors here to check on her, perhaps in some state of inebriation, and she hissed and pulled the blanket around her tighter at the unexpected encore of Suna's commander in chief.
"Sorry to disturb you," Gaara said, not sounding apologetic. "I smelled blood. Are you okay?"
if the demon wants to smell blood, let it be its own
we could take him now girl
"Never better," Sakura affirmed, closing the door as quickly as she had opened it. It wasn't quite a slam, but it was dangerously close. She really was testing her luck with him. The angel told her she should press it harder, instigate a fight and then come out the conqueror.
On the other side of the door, Gaara softly called, "Okay. Good to hear. Let me know if you need anything."
Sakura did not dignify this with a response. There were many things she needed, but she knew better than to bargain with demons for them. Only a fool asked a demon for anything.
Team 10 did not speak about what happened on the mission. Sakura guessed they were still in shock, could not form the words to describe her radiance.
words often fail mortals
we are beyond the limits of language
The angel had started singing in her head more frequently. Rather than be distracting, Sakura had learned to use it as a sort of internal meditation aid. Whenever she needed to escape from the present, all she had to do was attune herself to the chime of bells. In that liminal state, it made it easier for the angel to slip inside her body and fill it up with power. They had been training together, working on the technique that let the angel use Sakura's body as a conduit.
Finally, she was powerful. She still had a long way to go to master this divine power, to be able to harness it efficiently, but no longer was she the weakest link. There was something inside her more fearsome than any foe she had faced.
She took to training in the forest, far away from where anyone could get caught in the crossfire. The angel still wasn't good at finesse.
this body is an imperfect vessel
but it can be refined
Training had quickly become all she lived for. From the time she woke up, she ached to slip away, finishing up her work with Tsunade hastily so that she could retreat to the forest and lose herself in the frantic tinkling of bells. She would tune out and let the sound take over her mind, let her existence take a vacation while the celestial being filled her body.
Often when she came back to herself, whole swaths of forest were gone. They had been obliterated, seared away with a light more brilliant than 1,000 dazzling rays of sun, cremated to ash, an immolation worthy of some unknown sins.
Sometimes there would be animals. She saw a deer once, flash-fried and still steaming in the clearing. Or rather, it was only half a deer. The other half had been burned away. Curious, she had extended her hand to the blistered and cracked surface. It was hot under her palm to the point where she could not keep it on the surface for long. The sight turned her stomach, but the angel assured her that all was for the best.
the creature was beneath us
this is the price of power
Looking down at the deer, mangled and decimated on the forest floor, Sakura decided that all things considered, it was a small price to pay.
Sakura could not sleep. The Village Hidden in the Sand was dead quiet during the night. In Konoha, there were people walking the streets until late, the distant barking of dogs, the rustle of leaves. Here, on nights like this when the wind was still, there wasn't even the whisper of sand to soothe her.
Inside her mind, the bells were tolling, urging her up. The angel was restless, compelling her feet to move.
there is evil here that must be destroyed
The angel was often antsy around vice. On several occasions, Sakura had to restrain it from smiting a particularly inebriated late night citizen. It despised those that imbibed, those that indulged, those that pursued the fruits of the flesh. Even being in the same room as Tsunade was enough to get the angel to stir and prickle.
However, this wasn't just the vague indignity of being forced to witness idolatry. Something had the angel livid, forcing her to her feet. Sakura knew better than to resist. If she wanted any sleep, it was best to see what was disturbing her inner deity.
She followed the angel's urgings, calling on her chakra to vault her way up to the roof. They were in one of the tallest buildings in Suna, a view that might have been breathtaking at daybreak, but at night looked out at nothing other than a legion of indistinguishable beige buildings, uninteresting lumps dotting the landscape. There were no neon lights or elongated skylines like in Konoha. It was hard to find a flat surface on these strange, curved roofs, but her chakra made navigating them simple enough.
The moon hung above her, full like the dilated pupil of a feral animal. Somehow, this made the angel more irritated, set it on guard.
the beast prowls during a full moon
you must be careful child
In her brain, she felt the rattle of bells, a chime that made her soul vibrate. Inside her nightshirt, her wings twitched and flexed in anticipation. How she longed to strip the garment off, to let herself stretch to the fullest. However, she didn't get the chance. Even up here on the rooftop, she had an audience.
For even on an empty, abandoned night like this, Gaara was again interrupting her, doing whatever it was he did to pass the long hours when everyone else was asleep. Even covered in shadows, she knew it had to be him. Who else would be out here on the rooftop, sitting serene under the moonlight?
The very sight of him caused the angel to shriek and seethe. It was a clashing of harsh noises and melodies, the feeling in Sakura's mind that let her know it wanted out, wanted to use its power.
this thing cannot be allowed to live
its very existence is blasphemy
Sakura probably should have guessed that the angel would take offense to being in close proximity to a demon. After all, the two were polar opposites, the equivalent of a cobra and a mongoose tangled in an eternal dance for supremacy.
Sensing her observation, perhaps even picking up on the malice radiating from within her, Gaara opened his eyes and turned to her.
"Sakura?" he asked. Rhetorical. Just as she knew it was him, there were not many other possible candidates with pink hair in the general vicinity.
Even if she had a response, the choir inside Sakura's mind has grown so intense that she could not form the words. The angel shrieked, a sound like a thousand flutes being blown by a hurricane.
now
while he is vulnerable and alone
kill him
Sakura didn't think it was wise to assassinate a world leader. At least, she had not started her night intending to do so. But her vision was turning white, her mind vibrating with the intensity of the angel forcing its way inside. All it could think about was how much it wanted to eradicate the demon, how the very existence of such a thing was an unbearable blemish on the universe.
But no. Sakura knew what Gaara was, but she also knew that he was the same as Naruto. Just a person, a boy built as a cage. She didn't want to kill someone for the crime of existing.
The angel did. It rattled inside her brain, demanding she take action. It was like there was a force splitting her mind open as the being wrestled her for control of her body. Sakura was shocked. Never before had the angel tried to force her to do something, and the surprise of its mutiny was an opening that the angel latched onto. She was left gripping her head, trying to remember where she was even as her mind felt like it was splitting in two.
"Sakura?" the voice came again. Concerned this time, drawing closer. "You don't appear to be well."
She felt a hand brush her shoulder, and the contact was what sent the angel firmly over the edge.
that beast dares to touch us
it must die
Sakura shrieked, the sound inside her mind now emanating out of her throat, an inhuman trumpet that rattled the air around them. She felt, rather than saw, Gaara react, recoiling from her and putting his guard up. However, as quick as she was, Sakura knew in her bones she could be quicker. She leaped.
Sometimes the angel knew best. After all, it was an angel. It understood things Sakura could only guess at. As much as it hurt her pride to admit it, Sakura was often lost and confused, looking for someone to guide her. How fortunate that she had found someone willing to lead the way.
Now that she was strong enough, she had begun searching for Sasuke on her own. It was so much more convenient to be able to go out on her own terms, instead of needing to be babysat by another team. She had been following a recent lead about one of Orochimaru's hideouts, a place where possibly Sasuke would be located. She had no plan, other than a vague sense that Orochimaru could be set aflame like any other creature she had encountered. She did not fear him.
Her investigations led her to this: a group of Sound Ninja, guarding a remote hut in the mountains. The likelihood of there being anything useful inside was minuscule, but Sakura had been fighting for scraps her whole life. She would take whatever she could get.
these are the people that have caused you so much hurt
that took away the one you love
we punish those that have done evil
She felt the white hot fire of the angel, and something in Sakura hesitated. These people would be more valuable alive so she could question them. However, the angel had no use for her hesitation. It cajoled her, squirming into her mind like it owned the place. There was a second where she tried to resist, but the angel whispered inside her, told her to relax and let go.
Doing things her way had never worked out. Sakura had learned to doubt her own instincts. Better to trust this angel. She stopped fighting, letting her mind be overtaken with white.
When she came to, she was dyed vermilion. Her hair was matted and sticky, her clothing a lost cause. Everywhere was slick with blood. None of it was her own.
She wouldn't be getting any useful information out of these Shinobi. Likewise, the hideout had little more than a few boxes of rations. It was another dead end.
However, the angel couldn't be more pleased. It hummed inside her brain, trembling and preening with joy at what it had done. Despite the slaughter that had taken place, Sakura found that she wasn't disturbed. If the angel had deemed it necessary, then who was she to disagree?
She trusted this creature. If it had decided that blood needed to be spilled, then Sakura was to be its vessel to make that happen.
Sand and ash littered the air, clouding the atmosphere into a grainy assault that made Sakura's eyes water. However, physical pain did little to stop the angel inside her. It cast such sensations aside, pursuing its goal.
There was enough light from the full moon overhead to see Gaara, crouched on a roof a few buildings away. He had dodged their initial attack, and kept out of reach. This was not the same monster she remembered from the forest, the one that attacked with an unyielding bloodlust. If anything, he seemed to be playing a game of chase with her, baiting her further and further towards the edge of the village.
So he had changed a little. However, he was still a monster. Even separated by a cold stretch of night, Sakura could hear him growling. Sand buzzed around him like a swarm of angry locusts, making his outline blur.
he cannot run from judgment
The distance between roofs was minuscule for her now. Sakura felt a burgeoning of chakra beneath her feet, and she lit off from the edge like she was fueled by an explosion. She crashed into the same roof as Gaara with a cracking of stucco, little chips flying up like so much detritus. He tried dodging away again, but she stretched out her hand and let the light emanate from it. Silvery cords, not dissimilar to the chakra threads his brother used, shot from her fingertips. They wound around his limbs, binding his arms to his sides, sending him crashing to the sandpaper surface of the roof.
"What are you doing?" he growled, thrashing in his restraints.
When Sakura replied, her voice was not her own. It sounded like there was a chorus of a thousand speaking with her, through her, their voices layering and dancing and merging into something that was almost song.
"You can wash the bloodstains from your hands," the angel said through her mouth, "but the blood will not wash from your soul. I am come to deliver vengeance for all those slain by your unholy paws, demon."
Gaara physically recoiled as if he had been slapped. It was generally considered inadvisable to mention his past psychopathic tendencies. When he looked up at her, Sakura saw guilt in his eyes. The angel was very good at sensing guilt, ate it up like a fine dessert. No amount of remorse could absolve Gaara in its view, but it would delight in any emotional pain it could wrench from him.
A distant part of Sakura noted how young Gaara looked. They were both young, practically still children. Both vessels for a power greater than themselves. Sakura had a single moment of clarity, where she saw him for what he was: a boy hiding behind a demon because he was scared. Because he felt too weak on his own. It felt so much like looking into an unflattering mirror. Sakura shook it off, letting the angel fill her mind again. It had very clear instructions for her.
She raised her hands, gathering light in the center of them. Right now, her whole body was slightly iridescent, emitting a faint gleam to rival the moonlight. Had she been capable of observing herself from the outside, she would have noted how otherworldly she looked, less like an angel and more like a sleep paralysis demon.
Just as she readied a heavenly bolt, there was a crunching sound, like baked sand ground under the heel of a boot. Something smashed into her, making her kiss the grainy texture of the structure beneath. The angel inside her shrieked with all the ferocity of an upset eagle.
kill him kill him kill him
That was the only thing it could think at the moment, and those thoughts crowded her brain, pushing aside everything else. Something warm and rough squirmed across her back, holding her down. Even without the angel's absolute revulsion, Sakura would have recognized it. She had felt that texture gripping her before. It was the skin of the demon, bubbling to the surface of its host.
Forcing her head up, Sakura saw that Gaara had snapped through his restraints, was now doubled over on the roof next to her. Sprouting from his back was the long, misshapen tail of the beast, stretching out and holding her down. The Kazekage was still more or less recognizable as a human, but there was no telling how long that would last. He hugged himself, as if physically trying to hold the demon inside. When his eyes turned on her, they were golden, glowing in the night like a jackal's.
"You shouldn't test me," he snarled, voice jagged like barbed wire. "It wants to hurt you. It wants to tear you apart limb by limb."
The feeling was mutual. The angel was more worked up than ever, and Sakura could not even coordinate a response. Everything in her mind glowed with the intensity of plasma.
However, despite his threats, Gaara did no such thing. He had her pinned, helpless, but didn't make a move. Instead, he seemed focused on suppressing the demon. In turn, the demon was doing its best to claw to the surface. His body shook with the force of it, his exhales coming out as dry growls.
"Sakura," he said, then paused to pant. He struggled with the words, as if having to fight for them. "We have to stop. People could get hurt."
the demon tries to save itself by appealing to your better nature
don't be fooled
Sakura responded to this olive branch with a hiss and more thrashing. She had a clear image in her mind of turning him to ash, and nothing would keep her from it.
As she watched, Gaara slowly calmed. His breathing slowed as he purposefully took deep breaths. The shaking dissipated.
"You have to fight this," he said. "We both do. Whatever is happening to you, you're stronger than it."
Then, as if to prove his point, he took one more deep breath. On the exhale, the sand around him crumbled away, turning back to the dust from whence it had came. The tail holding her down eroded, turning into a soft collection of particles that spilled off of her in streams as she rose.
"See?" he said when she was back on his feet. "Now, let's talk about this like reasonable people."
Sakura could barely hear him over the cacophony of bells in her ears. The angel was pushing her out of her own mind in its fury, clamoring for the space. Rather than wrestle with it, Sakura relaxed and let it take over. Her body began to glow anew.
Despite the fact that they were teammates, Naruto and Sasuke rarely sparred with her. They would make all sorts of excuses, things about how they didn't want to hurt her, or they wanted to focus on other parts of their training, and so on. At least that was better than outright admitting they didn't want her around, that they thought she was too weak to even be worth a practice session.
So on the scarce occasions that one of them actually agreed to a match, Sakura took it very seriously. Such was the case when, in a rare mood, Sasuke agreed to a bout. Sakura had just mastered a new Earth Style Jutsu, a minor barrier technique, and she hadn't had a chance to show it off to Sasuke yet. It would serve as good practice for both of them, seeing how fast his Sharingan could pick up what had taken her over a week to get right. Her bet was on him getting it correct on the first try.
Sometimes it hurt to be in love with someone so amazing. Not that she would ever wish that Sasuke was any less wonderful. She just wished... She wished that she could feel like she was worthy of him, like they were on the same level. She was sick and tired of feeling like she was constantly struggling to catch up, that they were getting farther and farther apart everyday.
But that was an existential crisis for another time, for one of the occasions he wouldn't spar with her. Right now, it was just the two of them facing off in an empty practice field.
He opened with his typical lightning speed, slinging out a round of shuriken. Sakura countered with a substitution jutsu, then a chakra-fueled jump to land behind him. He responded with a spinning kick, and that was her cue to try out the new Jutsu. It was a simple thing really, requiring only a few hand symbols which made it a quick summon. It resulted in her skin momentarily being covered into a hard granite shell. The idea was that it could absorb enemy blows, but Sasuke's kick to her forearm still sent sharp pain through it, sent it tingling like it was about to go numb.
It was probably better suited to blocking bladed objects than blunt , it was one more tool in her belt, and when she didn't have a lot of tools to begin with, anything felt like a victory.
Immediately, the next blow she managed to get in– a weak punch into his side– Sasuke was able to reflect the Jutsu back, summoning his own crusted shell that hurt her fist more than it hurt him. While she tried to shake off the pain and the tingling, he swept her feet out from under her.
Only a couple of minutes in and she was flat on her back. The match was over, with predictable results. Sakura wasn't embarrassed to lose. She had expected it, after all. But as she rose to her feet and dusted herself off, she saw the way Sasuke looked at her. It looked like he was disappointed, like maybe he had been hoping for more and Sakura had failed to deliver. He sighed, his eyes dulling back to their normal dark brown.
"I guess it's only natural you can't keep up with me," he said. "It's the difference in our blood, unfortunately. Some people are just born to it."
Sakura understood that. She had understood that before she even entered the academy. A no-clan ninja, she knew she would never catch up to the skills of her peers. She had no one to show her her path, no powerful bloodline to fall back on. No one to mentor her. She had to learn everything from scratch. However, she had convinced herself that with enough effort she could catch up. But looking at Sasuke, still without a scratch, shrugging and turning to go, she realized that it wasn't even a matter of tenacity. Her potential had a ceiling, and it was very, very low.
She would never be as powerful as Sasuke. And watching him walk away from the training field, she couldn't help but feel that without power, no one would ever look at her twice.
When the angel took over her mind, Sakura felt peace. Those were the only times when she wasn't overcome by self-doubt, self-loathing: when she didn't have to occupy that pathetic, weak body. When she was allowed to ascend– to become something more.
Power coursed through her, hot enough to burn in her veins. Distant from her body, Sakura still felt it sharp enough to prevent from disassociating completely. Patterns of light appeared on her skin, a glyphic crossweave of symbols she did not know the meaning of. Her wings burst from her shirt, sending the fabric scattering along with snow white feathers. They were bigger now, large enough to reach farther than her arms could, arching above her and casting a long shadow.
She saw Gaara scoot back, but he did not turn and run. He held his ground, sand swirling around him and warding off the fistfuls of light she slung at him.
"Don't let that thing take you over!" he called. "Trust me, whatever power its promising you, it's not worth the price."
His words rolled off of her, pushed out by the sharp, splitting pain in her head. She felt something wrench, and saw in her shadow's silhouette two wings sprout from her head, mirroring the ones on her back in miniature. A second later, the same pain in her side, and another pair of wings erupted. She was now six-winged and frothing for blood. She felt her scalp heat up, and saw sparks flickering around her head, a disembodied halo of fire.
With a flap of her wings, she rushed forward, slamming into Gaara and forcing him down. Like this, he wouldn't be able to dodge. Eventually she could sear through his sand. She held out her hands, felt them flare. There was pain everywhere in her now, acting as the final tether between her mind and her body. Meanwhile, the angel's singing had grown more focused. No less intense, but less chaotic, now coordinated and focusing in on a single brilliant chorus.
Her hands rained down on him. Sand met with the sunbeams shooting from her fingertips, clashing together, heating up. Sooner or later, she would melt it all to glass, break through it directly into his face.
"Sakura!" he snarled, bucking and trying to throw her off. It was no use, and he probably now regretted shedding his own transformation. "Is this what you want? Sacrificing your humanity for power?"
She wished she wasn't here for this. She wished it was like all those other times, where she could go away and let the angel do its work. But the pain would not let her go, its sharp claws dug into her mind and kept her in place. She had to be present, and it was doing sick things to her stomach.
"Yes!" she screamed, and somehow her voice made it through to her throat. It echoed harsh and inhuman, but she spoke all the same. "Yes, I'll make that trade! I'm tired of being weak."
Her eyes were burning now, too. Her vision blurred, and she realized that she was probably crying. Of course, whatever human parts of her showed had to be the weakest, most disgusting aspects. The tears that bubbled up were made of fire, pouring down her face like molten lava. Even her grief was now intermingled with the angelic.
"I'm tired of being a burden!" she screamed, delivering another blow. "I'm tired of everyone leaving me behind! I'm tired of not being strong enough for them!" She punctuated her words with more violence, pounding away at the sand that refused to dissipate. It was hard to tell if she was even striking the right place, her vision was so blurry.
Sand looped around her, and she screamed and flapped her wings, trying to blow it away. It forced her hands back, just enough for Gaara to free his arms. Rather than retaliate with violence, he lifted a hand up. Sakura flinched, but the touch he gave her face was gentle. His thumb reached out, swiping away the fiery tears gathered in the corner of her eye. She heard the sizzle of his sand meeting those flames. At this close proximity, he had to feel the heat. It had to hurt. Still, he did not pull away.
"This isn't who you are," he insisted. "I've seen you. You're a medic, a compassionate person. You live to heal people."
"I hate that person," Sakura spat back, chest tight. "She's weak."
Gaara locked eyes with her. The golden was gone, all trace of Shukaku purged from his system. The only person she was confronting now was him– the boy.
"Hiding behind this monster won't change that," he said. "Let it control you, and you'll still be weak; you'll just have blood on your hands, too. Trust me."
kill him girl
you are my vessel
you will do as I say
It was then that Sakura forced herself to accept what she had known all along: this angel was using her. Perhaps it had never been an angel in the first place. It had just been powerful enough for her to wish that it was.
"I can't," she said. She wasn't sure who she was speaking to– Gaara or the angel.
"You can," Gaara assured her. He reached out, took her wrists delicately from where they were still raised to strike.
Inside her mind, the angel was going ballistic at the contact, screeching at her to strike, to smite, to slay.
Sakura said no.
She shut her mind, doing her best to block out the angel's frantic chiming. She knew that its song was unending. The trick was to stop listening.
She felt a curious sensation in her sides, the place where her wings had sprouted suddenly feeling fainter and fainter, the nerve endings there retreating back into her body. It still hurt just as much as it had to sprout in the first place, but she saw the feathers fall and scatter in the wind, no longer supported by flesh. Likewise, the glyphs on her skin faded back to the original color, her flesh becoming a more natural hue. She was reverting back to her normal, pathetic self.
She collapsed, sobbing, into Gaara's arms.
"I just wanted to be strong enough to save him," she heard herself saying.
She wasn't sure her words were even comprehensible through her sobs. Regardless, Gaara seemed to get the gist of it. He reached out and patted her back, touching her awkwardly like he wasn't sure how. But right now, even those meager scraps of comfort were much appreciated.
"You are enough as you are," Gaara said. "Anyone who asks for more… is not your friend."
It was asking for more. It was demanding it, flashing against the inside of her mind, demanding to be let out. Sakura was sure she would be hearing it for a long time to come, but for right now, she ignored it.
Her body still shook with sobs, her skin stinging with the cold night air. With no angel wrapped around her, she felt bare and vulnerable. She once again felt weak.
However, with Gaara holding her, she no longer felt alone. She realized sharply that it had been a long time since she felt that way. Since before everyone had left her, since before she'd isolated herself behind a wall of self pity and doubt.
"You'll be okay," Gaara promised.
Sakura didn't see how that could possibly be true, but for now, for tonight, she chose to believe him.
Right now, the demon seemed a lot more trustworthy than angels.
