Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Chapter 2

The messenger nin that tapped apprehensively at her front door had sure become more confident, the heavy rapping pounding its way into Sakura's subconscious as she restlessly dreamt, a jackhammer to her temples as she sprung up from where she lay on the couch.

Drunk with the effects of inefficient sleep and a prominent throb in her skull, the pink-haired woman felt herself splitting in two as she angrily untangled herself from the blanket, cursing whoever dared to come to her home. There was only one person brave enough to interrupt her in the morning before work, and she wasn't so sure she could even consider him a friend any longer.

Damn you, Naruto.

The door flung open in haste, wild green eyes narrowing at the sight of the anbu operative she was sure she had seen flitting among the trees surrounding her house once or twice before. They stood unmoving in a silently waged war of visual prowess; the man unbothered by Sakura's lack of clothing as she stood dressed in an oversized t-shirt with her long pink hair astray.

She couldn't help but wonder what all the man in the cat mask had seen in what she thought to be her only private space, the unanswered questions gnawing on her, skin crawling. It only served to make her feel too similar to the refugees they had begun to take into the village-alone and under constant scrutiny-a prisoner in her own home.

Damn you, Sasuke.

She snatched the letter out of the man's hand, slamming the door in his face as a thank you. Her head was reeling from the night before, she found herself clutching the countertop as she moved into the kitchen, the wariness pulling her under a thick current of doubt. All her former teammates had ever done was find her unworthy of handling herself-now they had caged her-it took everything in her not to scream.

Clench and release, clench and release, she tried to tell herself as she swayed in the kitchen, teeth painfully snapped shut.

Sakura would have laughed at the informality of Naruto's scribbled out words, but her best friend felt like a stranger to her now, and she was just so mind-numbingly tired.

I'm sorry, Sakura. Please forgive me. This is what the people in her life did: scorn and repent, scorn and repent. Nothing is your fault if they forgive you in the end, you can't be blamed if you think what you're doing is right. It seemed to take her a moment to realize there was more to the letter than that single line.

Shikamaru's formal handwriting was a stark contrast to Naruto's childish scrawl.

Please meet at the village entrance to conduct thorough physicals and wellness checks of the new group of refugees entering this morning from the Land of Frost. There will be resources set to aid you in your orders, you are to review the files of each refugee and flag those capable of carrying out the work of a shinobi.

"Subtle," she mumbled out loud to herself, sighing at the implications behind the words before her.

She rocked back on her heels as she opened the fridge, settling for a single banana. The scent of fresh coffee wafted though the air as she cradled her mug gingerly, relishing in the last few moments of solitude before having to spend all day interacting with strangers.

"Welcome to Konoha, get naked and let me size you up. Oh, by the way, you'll be forced to fight and die for your new village in the next war, sorry" she was mumbling again, directing a dramatic gesture to the large glass jar in which she stored her coffee beans sitting on the table before her.

The contents shifted suddenly, startling Sakura as she sat rooted in her chair. The beans twisted and turned, shifting and molding until they created an eerily familiar shape. Madara's head turned slowly from within the jar, three swirling eyes pointed in her direction.

Trembling fingers lost grip of the mug as his maniacal laugh tore through her mind, Madara's twisted, crazed features taunting her. Ceramic met the wooden table, splintering and finally shattering in what seemed to be over an eternity's time. Hot brown liquid sprung up to grasp at the pale flesh, the burning sensation pulling her from her trance.

The legs of the chair protested against tile as she sprung backward, the piece of furniture colliding with the wall as Sakura stood abruptly, burnt hand clutched to her chest.

War, don't think about the war. Her eyes frantically searched her apartment for any sign of the homicidal tyrant that had just laughed in her face, finding nothing but a jar of coffee beans surrounded by broken pieces of mug.

Coffee pooled atop the table, nearing the edge before plodding to the tile below in a slow drip, drip, dripping. The sound was deafening to Sakura, echoing off the inner walls of her mind as the brown liquid quickly became an angry red, the blood collecting beneath her table.

Sakura fought back the urge to vomit as she was thrown back onto the battlefield once more, thrown off by the sudden change of scenery. Slender fingers gripped the rough fabric of her green vest as she slowly peered at the bodies pilling up all around her. The scent of death and blood coated the air, a thick layer threatening to suffocate anyone who dared to remain stationary.

She clutched her face in her hands, willing the visions away as she dropped into a crouch, rocking on her heels, curling herself into a tight ball. A crunching, groaning sound erupted from the ground beneath her as it began to split, land parting in two to pull her into the void below.

She blinked once, then twice as the coffee beans scattered all across the tile, brown dotting white as they rolled to a stop. There lay glass shards strewn about, the impact of the jar meeting her wall pulling her from her nightmare.

She sunk to the ground, back resting against the cold of the fridge door, pulling her knees to her chest, chin resting on her arms. She stared blankly at the mess before her, counting the drips falling from the table ledge onto the ground as her shoulders sagged, pulling her head down with them.

It was in that moment of impaired sanity it dawned on her in a painful irony, she would forgive Naruto. She would always have to forgive Naruto despite all he did or didn't do. Because if she refused, she would be completely and utterly alone. She just couldn't live with these nightmares alone, it was too much.

The sun bore down on Sakura as she made her way toward the village entrance, an uncomfortable heat spreading across her pale shoulders as she crossed over the threshold of new construction and old ruin. Birds sang happily, wings carrying them through the dazzling blue sky as if they weren't serenading the graves of hundreds to thousands lost in the rubble.

Sakura pulled off her white coat despite the steadily approaching burn puckering on her flesh, the black fabric underneath doing nothing to stave away the heat. She had long disposed of the traditional red attire she had once worn, stowing away the Haruno crest and her former self altogether.

If she was the last inhabitant of her family's name and symbol, she would do no dishonor to her late parents by parading it around in the very village that had killed them. She had settled for all black. It was dull, muted and comforting in a sense.

She recalled the disapproving look Naruto had given her when she had forgone her usual attire for the first time. Sakura-chan, isn't that a little…much? It doesn't look very…you.

She had actually felt self-conscious at the time, siding with his big-brother antics and opting for something more conservative. With this newfound ulterior motive revealed, she no longer gave a damn what he thought. She wasn't a child any longer, and he was far from her father.

The glances pointed in her direction as she navigated her way through the streets went unnoticed; Sakura too enveloped in her own thoughts to pay the men any mind. She cursed the sun once more as a bead of sweat trailed downward between her breasts, the fishnet material holding the deep v of her halter top together doing nothing to contain it.

She slipped the written orders into the weapons pouch wrapped to her leg, fastening her Leaf headband loosely around the waist of her high waisted training pants. Long pink hair fell in a neat collection at her back, the strands brushing against her exposed skin.

Sakura had wandered all the way to the gates without so much as a recollection of the distance she had traveled. "Ahem" Koya was staring, unprofessionally she might add, directly at her as if she had grown three heads.

It was far too early to be losing her patience again. "Is there a problem?" she questioned him directly.

There was an uncomfortable pause between them, as if the man was contemplating voicing his opinion or not. The subtle pink tinge that dashed across his cheeks was lost on her as she snatched the files from his hands, skimming over the materials.

Koya cleared his throat again; her patience wearing even thinner. "You…I mean…I'll show you to your office." He turned quickly on his heel; Sakura had half a mind to chastise him for acting so strangely around her, thinking better of it.

There was no better description for her office for the day other than a replica of a medic tent used in the war. This was going to be a much longer day than she had anticipated, realizing she'd have to file the refugees in one by one for their assessments. It was a tight space, bordering on claustrophobic.

She recalled the first time she had done this immediately following the conclusion of the war, Naruto had been frantic to save as many as he could, ushering in group after group of wounded suffering civilians and shinobi alike.

Herself and Tsunade had struggled to accommodate the masses as they quickly became the minority in comparison to the swarm of people entering the village. It had been exceedingly difficult to keep tabs on who had been involved in the battle themselves and who was a regular civilian-everyone had been so terribly injured-their resources exhausted quickly.

They didn't have the system that was currently in place, instead flooding the gates with people and directing them to the nearest halfway house or shelter, wherever they could find a roof, really. The poorly re-built structures did little to satisfy the needs of so many human beings, only causing further strain on the foreigners as they settled into their new hell. It was a broken, messy way of doing things, and soon after the riots began.

There was no telling if it had been Konoha natives or refugees-or the cooperation of both-who had created The Revolutionists at the time, there were far too many unaccounted for. She had pitied Naruto in those early days, understanding he had only wanted to help as many people as he could.

Two years later and they had finally developed functioning methodical system of conducting the movement of refugees into their village. Each individual presented with their own file outlining their abilities, clan, and crimes-if any-and determined their acceptance or rejection to her home.

If you were incapacitated or carried disease, you would be denied entry and sent to a refugee camp on the outskirts of the village to receive medical treatment and rehabilitation; a reassessment would be conducted after a period of time to determine the likelihood of gaining acceptance as a Leaf citizen.

Naruto's way was not without flaws; initially turning away so many had left him devastated, but it was for the sake of the entire village that they not run themselves dry or lose hundreds to a contagion for the sake of a few. That was what they had told themselves, anyway.

It had been Tsunade's decision to open the secondary clinic in the first place, and so they had faith in the success of this way of doing things. Sakura only hoped that Tsunade was there now assisting those who had been rejected; better to think that than the alternative.

Sakura glanced up from the stack of files on her small table, not remembering a single word she had just read during the onslaught of memories that overcame her. Koya had since gone, the familiar comfort of solitude easing the tension between her shoulders.

Back to work, always working.

This group of refugees were from a small community on the outskirts of the Land of Frost, their village had been completely decimated in the aftermath; they had finally run out of enough supplies to survive on their own. It was a group largely of women and children, Sakura had to wonder how they had even survived the journey on their own.

She bit her lip as a frustrated pair of green eyes skimmed over the first few files. They seemed to be made up of a majority of civilians, which would prove more difficult to grant them access if they had even the slightest ailment. Better to have a dysfunctional soldier than a functional civilian.

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth, having come from no significant clan nor possessing any famous kekkei genkai, if she herself had strolled in with this group as a child she would have just as unlikely of a chance as well.

She tried to work a reassuring smile onto her face as the first patient was escorted in, the gesture failing to meet her eyes, falling instead into a tired grim line as she began her assessments. The first of the bunch was also the oldest, her strong posture and wrinkled skin exuding a wisdom beyond her years.

Sakura pretended not to notice the slight trembling of the woman's hands as the doctor circled around her like a hawk, examining her entire naked body after she had undressed. This was always uncomfortable for the patient; even more so when this one moment could change the course of the rest of your life.

Sakura's slender fingers brushed the healed scars that adorned bilateral sides of the woman's back. The sensation caused the patient to wince ever so slightly before quickly gaining her composure. She didn't press the subject, choosing instead to move on.

Sakura was caught off guard by the woman's raspy voice. "It was the red fang that took what we had left, I risked my life protecting these children." Sakura nodded in approval from behind her, although she couldn't see the gesture, mistaking the silence for a cue to continue.

Her voice sounded solemn, but determined all the same, a familiar twinge coursing through Sakura as Lady Chiyo's face came to mind. "I pray that your village never sees those horrors, I have seen many in my time, and that was truly the worst of it" pink brows furrowed at the proclamation.

"I have never heard of the red fang" Sakura began, motioning for her to dress. "Is that an enemy native to the Land of Frost?" She didn't mean to pry, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The woman released a long, drawn-out sigh, expelling years of pain into the silence between them. "Oh child, it is but a curse that seems to follow us wherever we go." Her eyes widened briefly with regret, fearing for the rejection of her group. Sakura's hand came down to rest gently on the woman's shoulder in an effort to ease her stress.

She squeezed lightly before releasing her. "We all bear our own curses, one way or another." There was a recognizable grief to her voice that translated to the woman before her as they locked eyes in silent agreement. A brief, saddened smile tugged at one corner of Sakura's lips before falling back into a blank expression.

"You are unbelievably healthy considering the long journey," Sakura was happy to change the subject, the woman's shoulders sagging in relief. "Did you acquire aid from neighboring villages?" She continued-it was not a trick question-Naruto had done well to make many allies in his efforts as the Hokage.

The woman's eyes crinkled with genuine sincerity as she spoke. "We do well to take care of our own, my dear."

Sakura nodded at the explanation, understanding the implications behind her words. We will not be a

nuisance to your village, please save us.

Sakura flung her white coat onto the table, sinking into her chair as she came to the last file. Her head tipped backward over the chair back to stare at the ceiling, pink hair curtaining behind her. Twenty refugees total-one assessment left-and only three potential male shinobi, all of which would have to join the academy due to their young ages.

So far, the entire group received passing scores; they were in excellent health. Even the first woman had passed the physical portion despite her age. Sakura shed the stress that had building upon her shoulders, letting the relief flood over her in that moment.

This had never happened before, usually she would leave these clinic days frustrated and distraught, turning to a bottle for support as the screams of separated villagers pierced through her resolve. That was, before Naruto slapped a curfew on the village, restricting them from drowning their sorrows for too long.

"Should I come back, then?" a deep, husky voice from across her table had her back stiffening at the intrusion; he felt close. Too close. She had not yet read the last refugees file, not expecting a man among all of the woman and children. Sakura tipped her chin down and moved her body forward all in one motion, taken aback by the nearness of the man.

He was leaning over her makeshift desk, large tanned hands splayed out as she rocked forward, almost bumping noses with him before regaining her balance. He had moved mere inches from her without her sensing even a sliver of his presence.

Sakura blinked once, then twice, unmoving.

Deep golden quartz peered down at her, encapsulating her.

"Are you my doctor?" she could feel his hot breath on her face, their noses so close they were almost touching. She could feel the heat physically radiating from his frame at the nearness of his body. She blinked once more.

"Yes," she began coolly, being the first to pull back, a cool chill replacing the lost heat between them, causing her to shudder despite herself. She could feel his eyes on the wide open back of her top as she slipped her arms through the length of her white coat, reestablishing their roles.

Expressionless eyes flickered over the man before her, studying the peculiar state of dress the frost nin had arrived in. A flowing white kimono top was tied loosely with an intricate gold obi, his defined bare torso beneath raising questions.

"I'm hot natured," he quipped cheerfully, seeming to read the confusion in her eyes as she looked over him. Even his black pants were that of a thinner, looser material, and would do nothing to keep a frozen tundra at bay. She recalled the ferocity of the heat emitting from him just recently, furthering her suspicion.

"Top off, please," she commanded. The roles were reversed, Sakura becoming uncomfortable as honey eyes followed her movements when she circled around him to begin her assessment. He was a rather large man, muscle rippling and protruding on every inch of his body.

The strange heat was back to wrap itself around her as soon as she was near enough to listen to his heart and lungs. She felt him stiffen under the graze of her cold hands as she pushed his long white hair over one shoulder.

Maybe he wasn't lying, after all.

"Pants off next," she swallowed hard despite her dry mouth, teeth clenching shut as the fabric collected at his feet. Sakura could sense the weight of his gaze, head tilted to the side as he watched her assess him.

You're the head of the damned medical department, pull yourself together, Sakura.

His legs were an impressive display of defined muscle, quite frankly everything about the man was…impressive. She chased the frivolous thought from her mind, leaving no room for debate. Sakura feigned disinterest as she quickly finished her last patient, motioning for him to dress as she leaned back on her desk, grabbing at his file.

"I assume you're the reason this group has been able to make this long journey without issue" she began, eyebrow raised expectantly in his direction. A warm smile spread across his face; she watched his eyes deepen in color at that, not entirely sure if her mind was playing tricks on her. "Did you fight in the war?" Sakura was jotting notes down absentmindedly, feeling the warmth envelop her again as he neared.

"Didn't we all?" his large hand motioned toward her. "What about you, Mrs…?"

"Miss." His grin settled into a satisfied smile. What was happening here?

He stepped closer toward her still; hand outstretched in invitation. The heat was almost too much to bear, tiny pinpricks on her face spreading down to her neck and chest. "Miss?"

"Sakura," she explained as she grasped his hand, moving to shake it in introduction. His thumb swept across her knuckles as he turned her over in his grasp, soft lips coming down to graze the top of her hand.

"Mm. Miss Sakura, then." She frowned down at the boldness of the white-haired man, unsure how to react to the attention he was giving her.

"Oi! Sakura! I came to review the files before placing the travelers…" Naruto deadpanned, coming to a halt as he audibly swallowed from the entrance of the tent. Sakura's bright eyes flickered to him before darkening in recognition, willing him to disappear.

A lengthy pause fell between the three before the golden-eyed man released her hand, peering down at her before taking his leave, bowing to the Hokage prior to his exit. Sakura's flesh puckered where his incredibly soft lips had just been, a tingling feeling drifting to her fingertips.

Sakura flipped through the files, oblivious to Naruto's prying eyes as they bore into her. The tension shifted then, a sigh escaping her lips as the blond neared her. She could feel his glare intensifying, stifling the amusement that bubbled up within her. Traitor, you can't control me anymore.

He seemed to choose his words carefully for once. "You need to stay away from that man." Not carefully enough, it seemed. He was quick to push her to her limit, the walls too tight around her as the words echoed through her mind in a whisper. Sasuke Uchiha was always watching.

Wild green met a determined pair of blues, neither backing down. "I just met him two minutes ago, as I was doing my job, or am I a prisoner at work as well?" It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to, his eyes softening in response.

He attempted to coax her back to his side. "Sakura, he's dangerous." Her eyes widened with incredulous disdain, fighting the urge to laugh right in his face.

"Who? The man who takes care of refugees, or the one who tried to murder me with his bare hands?" Her hands were on his chest in an instant, pushing him to the ground roughly, flipping the clone the bird before it turned into a large puff of cloud. She was sure to hear about that later.

Sakura stared at the spot where Naruto had fallen, settling back into her reserved, calculating sense of normalcy. It wasn't like her to treat Naruto this badly, but she had been thrown off by his warnings.

Just who was this man? She looked quizzically at the forms in her hands, singling out the strange eyes in his photo instantly.

Mashiro Masakeda: refugee, Land of Frost

Crimes: suspected for the murder of Masakeda clan, never trialed

Abilities: unknown

Weapon Preference: dual katana

Clan Notoriety: Masakeda Assassins, last of kin

Sakura read and re-read the second line over and over, thrown off by the explanation. If he was never trialed, Mashiro would not have been able to continue living on so freely, and surely not be allowed to request entry to the village. Something was amiss in all of this, Naruto had answers he was unwilling to confide in her with.

..

The sun was beginning to set as she exited the assessment site, the last one to leave as the sky was set ablaze in a dazzling watercolor display of red bleeding into purple and orange. Sakura stood there a moment, peering out at trees.

The breeze was a whisper on her skin, grasping at loose strands of pink as she closed her eyes, drinking in the silence. Some days, it was enough just to find some semblance of peace in her loneliness. It was a fleeting feeling, telling herself she was better off this way, better off alone where nobody else could hurt her but herself.

A droplet fell to her face, rolling its way down to her chin before falling to the Earth. Sakura's fingertips fluttered to her eyes, scoffing at the thought that she may have been crying. Another droplet fell onto the top of her head, then another.

The rain came in an instant, misting turning to heavy downpour as she stood, unmoving, letting it soak through her. It was unsurprisingly warm, the summer heat causing a humid film to settle into the air. A shudder tore through her all the same, her waterlogged clothes gripping at her slender frame.

Sakura lifted her hands, arms outstretched as she turned in a slow circle, a faint ghost of a genuine smile gracing her features as it continued to pour.

A flare of familiar chakra from the tree line turned her feet back into their familiar lead blocks, freezing her to the spot, eyes snapping open. Sakura squinted against the incoming night, the rain blurring her view. She was sure she felt it, there was no mistaking that chakra signature.

Arms still outstretched, she gathered what little courage she had and yelled.

"Sasuke, you damn coward!" her arms fell limply to her sides, two wet dead weights smacking against her soaked clothes.

There was no movement, no sound, no chakra. Her shoulders rose and fell with the ragged breaths she sucked in, a mix of anger and anguish twisting up her spine, squeezing her chest. She did the only sane thing she could think of: she ran. Ran through the gate and back into the ruined village and away from the man who ruined her.

A/N: Man! I listened to all of Noah Kahan's albums while writing this chapter. So, I pictured an outfit similar to Yoruichi (Bleach) without the sweater for Sakura's debut, but with a mesh V halter. This is my first main OC, super excited to continue this story. Thanks for reading!