Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Chapter 3

Lightening flashed dangerously overhead, the sky twisting in a brilliant beam of light, threatening the imminent roar of thunder to follow shortly after. The once peaceful watercolor sunset bled into black as the torrential downpour continued, drowning out Sakura's footsteps as she ran through the village.

Angry tears streamed down her face, tasting a mixture of rain droplets and salt, her clothes soaked through. Sasuke's chakra was gone as quickly as it flared, but still she felt surrounded by it, engulfed by the thick wave of Uchiha aura that seemed to follow her like a curse. The cat-masked man was surely following her desperate flee from the village gates, frustrating her further.

She wanted to stop in the middle of the street and scream at the man who tailed her, her anger bordering on a break in what little sanity she had left. It was no use; her words meant nothing to anyone. Her thoughts meant nothing; she was nothing. The weight of her loneliness was crippling; a debilitatingly slow pressure that grew with each step she took, pushing her further into the ground to her grave.

Lightening dashed across the sky once more, a moment passing before the Gods cracked the whip of thunder above her, it booming overhead. The puddles she trampled through hardly came high enough to cover the tops of her shoes, yet she felt like she was drowning.

The harder she ran, the more her throat constricted, the panicked gasping breaths escaping her in jagged puffs of cloud. It was enough to keep moving forward toward her home, all of her focus into placing one foot in front of the other so that she didn't collapse right then and there.

Sakura suddenly felt an overwhelming warmth as she collided into something solid, roughly jerking away from the large hands that shot out to steady her on her feet. The streak of lightening illuminated the sky, revealing a pair of golden eyes belonging to a familiar recent patient.

Sakura, he's dangerous.

He was so close all she could make out was a mass of tanned skin and snow-white hair. A mysterious, dangerous refugee who radiated heat as he grasped the side of her arm. A shudder racked through her at the howl of thunder that followed, unintentionally leaning into the man's hold on her.

Sakura quickly gained her composure, violently retreating once more from the warmth that threatened to suffocate her, putting herself back in direct onslaught from the falling rain. Mashiro held the umbrella he was holding in an outstretched arm to shield her from the downpour, sacrificing himself to the wave of water, his white hair quickly flattening around his sharp jawline.

Sakura felt guilty in an instant, pushing Mashiro's hand back toward him and stepping forward all in the same movement. They huddled together under the umbrella while she collected her breaths, steadying them into a regular rate and rhythm once again.

"I'm sorry, now we're both soaked," she muttered, green eyes flickering up to study his reaction before falling back down to the rapidly forming puddle below the two. His lopsided smile and warm eyes were a stark contrast to her own dulled features.

He chuckled at her weak apology, the warm sound cutting though the chill of the night as her eyes snapped back up to stare at him in disbelief. The pair stood unmoving for a long moment, droplets of water dripping from every corner and crevasse of her being, her waterlogged clothes clenching her pale skin.

"I rarely get cold, it's not a bother, really," Mashiro hesitated as Sakura shuddered, a particularly strong gust of wind taking her by surprise.

She peeled off her white coat, the sopping fabric doing little to aid her against the storm. Goosebumps quickly erupted across her flesh, the shivers coming in waves as she peered out into the curtain of rain. They were standing in the middle of an empty street, having already blown a ways past her house in her frenzied state.

"Where are you headed, anyway?" Sakura asked. He tilted his head to the side, a single strand of white clinging to his cheek. She fought the urge to brush it aside.

"Well, I was assigned to sleep in the hospital tonight until they had official sleeping arrangements," he began.

Sakura watched his thumb swipe across his face, folding the lock of hair behind his ear. She nodded her head; women and children had separate shelters, and the male facility was full, the explanation made sense.

"Honestly, I think I'm lost," he admitted. "The rain isn't helping my case." There was a pause as he sheepishly looked around. "And there wasn't a villager in sight to ask for directions."

The damned curfew.

Sakura glanced back the way she had come, contemplating the restless night that awaited her if she returned home, or worse, who might be waiting for her on her doorstep.

"I'll take you there, I'm heading there myself," it was a weak lie, if Mashiro saw through her, he didn't show it.

Another whipping burst of wind sent yet another visible shudder through her, painfully aware of Mashiro's calculating stare as she wrapped her arms around herself. There was only so much someone her size could handle; she didn't have a heat regulation problem like he did.

"May I?" Mashiro held out his arm in question, inviting her into his side. Any other day, Sakura would have scoffed at him, the thought of being so near another man all but comforting, but she was so cold, and so tired of everything.

Oh, what the hell. She no longer gave a damn.

Nodding curtly, she inched toward him, his single muscular arm securing her to his side as they continued down the road toward the hospital. Her lips parted in surprise at the wave of heat enveloped her. If he was wet from the rain, she didn't notice; it took everything in her not to close her eyes and curl up further into him.

A strangely comforting silence fell between them as they walked, the umbrella staving away the rain as she peered on through half-lidded eyes. It was an alien feeling, being this close to someone, especially a man.

She couldn't remember the last time anyone had physically touched her other than Naruto. What a sad life she lived. The heat radiating from him had her feeling drunk on her feet, an overwhelming sense of ease in the midst of the storm roaring all around them.

The hospital never slept, night shift medic nin bustling around to the various units, only stopping to gape in their direction. If Sakura hadn't been so exhausted, she may have snapped at her rude subordinates, growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that everyone around her expected her to always be alone wherever she went.

Sakura watched, bewildered at the deep rattling in Mashiro's chest, chuckling at their reaction, unbothered as ever. She couldn't help but notice the many stares he received on his own-particularly female in nature-although he paid them no mind at all.

She watched his large hand run through his damp white hair, pushing it back out of his honey eyes guarded by long sweeping lashes before allowing it to settle back to the sides of his face. His jawline impeccably defined, lips unbelievably inviting as he softly smiled to himself. She had studied him merely as a patient before this chance encounter, now taking a moment to really see how captivating the man truly was.

Sakura physically shook her head, ridding herself of such frivolous thoughts, turning her attention toward pinning her hair up into a wet twist. If she was going to escape into the hospital for the night, she may as well get to work. She needed a distraction, anything really, to keep her mind far away from golden eyes and the dark chakra that hid among the trees.

They separated as they entered the facility, the loss of heat leaving a brisk chill in its stead. Sakura motioned for Mashiro to follow her, leading him into her office off the main floor. She slipped on a crisp dry white coat, relishing in its warmth as he glanced around the bland space.

It was meticulously organized, mute and dull, nothing to write home about. The three photos he studied clipped to the corner of her white board were the only breath of color in the entire space.

The original photo of team seven, a photo of her and her parents after being appointed jounin, and a sloppy candid of Tsunade and her in the middle of clinking glasses of wine, having just finished the development of Naruto and Sasuke's new limbs.

It was as if she was seeing a whole different person in them, the pink haired girl smiling wide, a genuine happiness she hadn't felt in years. They were all faded and worn, tucked away in the furthest corner of her office, just as she kept the memories stowed away in the deepest depths of her mind. Reminders of love, loss and loneliness.

Sakura audibly cleared her throat, shifting under Mashiro's gaze as he turned toward her. The office suddenly felt much too small, the walls closing around in her as she glanced at the photos behind his head once more. She wished she had the nerve to throw them away.

"After you," he began, motioning toward the door as if sensing the spike in her anxiety.

If he was curious, he did nothing to quench it, leaving the painful memories clipped to her board without speaking of their existence. Sakura hurried out of the space before it swallowed her up entirely. She thumbed a loose strand of pink, draping it over her ear, bringing the digit down to her lips as she anxiously bit down on her nail.

Mahiro's expression was smoldering as he interrupted her, his posture confident and pointed toward her. "Sakura," his eyes were fixated on her thumb resting between her parted lips, she blinked up at him as he pulled her from her thoughts.

Her hand quickly fell down to her side. "Right. Let me show you where to go, follow me" his eyes remained on her lips; she reflexively stiffened, turning to lead him through the winding hallways to the respite wing.

The individual rooms had been reserved for family members in the aftermath of the war, utilized by those who were visiting long-term patients. Now, they used them for overflow for refugees, the amount of people far surpassing the high-occupancy shelters.

She turned to flip on the light as he glided past her into the quaint space. It had all of the basic necessities, a bed, sink and small fridge. They had finally begun modernizing some of the village, allowing each space a cooktop to heat a kettle and small dishes.

"I'm sure the Hokage will send you more information-"

Sakura's eyes widened momentarily as Mashiro peeled his damp shirt from his body, her fingers frozen on the switch as he pulled the material over his head, draping it on a nearby chair. Narrow hips met the loose waistband of his black pants as he thumbed the fabric, the back and forth motion causing her to quickly turn her head to the wall.

Surely, he wouldn't strip naked here right in front of her.

"Ahem" Mashiro cleared his throat, drawing her gaze back to his amused face. "Will you still be here in the morning?" To her relief, he leaned his back on the wall, the lower half of his body still well covered. She couldn't help but wonder if his bare chest was even warmer without the fabric in the way.

Sakura scowled, more toward herself than anything, out of embarrassment for her childish thoughts and the realization of how little sleep she would once again endure.

"I'm here every morning," she began. Information he didn't need to know, yet she revealed regardless.

He seemed satisfied with the explanation. "Do you like coffee? If you can show me where to retrieve my things tomorrow, it's the least I can do in return," he offered.

Her lips parted in protest; she wasn't keen on such a direct invasion on her usually peaceful mornings. They pursed at the thought of coffee beans scattered across her kitchen tile, the broken glass still waiting for her at home. Her mornings were far from peaceful.

Maybe her mornings needed to change a bit. "Will you be awake that early?" she asked. He nodded in response.

"Wait for me near the front desk when you wake up, I'll be able to see you from my office" Mashiro's one-thousand watt smile had her rocking back on her heels, his energy was infectious despite her sour attitude this evening, her breath hiccupping in her throat.

She turned abruptly with a wave of her hand, ready to immerse herself into a pile of medical charts, needing something monotonous to focus on. Barreling into her office, she stopped at the white board, fingers coming up to brush over the photographs, thumbing over the worn glossy paper.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't throw them away, because it wouldn't matter if she did. The people in those photos were burned into her one way or another. Green eyes moved slowly from one person to the next before finally settling on the angry, pouting Sasuke, her hand falling limply to her side.

Oh, how far they had all fallen from each other.

..

Sakura could feel the flames licking up her arms, the warmth caressing her skin instead of burning through it as she'd expect. Her parents stood just beyond her reach, disturbing mottling of burning skin falling away to reveal eggshell whites and blacks of charring bone. They had been gone long before she had arrived, but she was desperate, nearing insanity as she tried to save them anyway.

She watched her parents burn alive before her very eyes, too paralyzed to move, inhaling thick dark clouds of smoke, choking on her own screams. If she could just touch them, she could heal them, there could be some life left in them. An arm encircling her waist ripped her from where she stood, pulling her away from her the corpses of her parents, her arm outstretched toward them.

Naruto was running toward her as the figure dragged her away, her hoarse screams barely above a frantic whisper. Her eyes burned with the effects of the smoke, unable to bring forth any tears. The flames had sucked the life right out her body.

I can't do this again.

They should just let her die with them.

Her nails dug into the persons arms as they pinned her thrashing body to their chest, unwilling to let her charge into certain death. A loud booming echoed in the distance, a second act of terrorism releasing a massive wave of red and black into the sky.

Sakura's hands clasped over her burning eyes, driving out the death all around her as she sank to the ground. The person lowered with her as she landed on her knees with a thud, holding her tightly as she rocked into a ball, whimpering like a child.

The bodies, don't think about the bodies.

"The screams," she began, her raspy voice laced with desperation, audibly swallowing the painful burning lump down into her dry throat. "All of the screaming people I couldn't save," she croaked out, beginning to tremble despite the massive wall of fire in front of her.

A took only a moment to realize the screams weren't coming from tortured war memories, they were all around her. The burning villagers were screaming; they were all dying in the fire just like her parents.

Two large hands slipped under her pink hair dirtied with soot and grime, cupping over her ears, blocking out the noise. She could still see the burning flesh of her parents faces in her mind, scrambling backward to sink into the person's chest.

Their forehead settled against the back of her head as she drew in gasping, ragged breaths. She could feel them saying something to her, their lips moving against her scalp. The heat came in a second wave, blossoming over her shoulder.

Was she on fire, too?

"Sakura," she knew that voice, he shouldn't be here, so why was he in her head?

"Sakura, wake up," Mashiro grew louder in her mind, pulling her from her nightmare as she shot up from her desk, the tanned hand he had clamped down onto her shoulder steadying her in her chair.

She rapidly blinked back the sleep from her eyes, relieved not to feel them burning out of their sockets as they just had moments prior. The familiar stark white walls devoid of color settled around her, all traces of fire resolved to the heat exuding from Mashiro's hand on her skin.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, rubbing her eyes before standing. His hand remained on her shoulder in a comforting gesture before falling away as she shed her coat, the feeling of burning skin fresh on her mind.

"How long have you been awake?" Sakura glanced at the clock, it was five in the morning, she hadn't even remembered falling asleep.

"I rarely sleep past four. Coffee, then?" Sakura's eyebrow shot up in response, staring at him in incredulity.

He must think her half crazed by now, what with her running rampant in a storm and now sleeping on the job. She couldn't imagine how terrible she looked, physically feeling the dark circles deepening beneath her eyes.

You're pathetic, pull yourself together.

"Right, let's go get your things first. I have a secret spot for coffee, but it doesn't open for thirty minutes" she unpinned her hair, letting it fall into a curtain of loose damp waves at her back.

The walk through the village was peaceful, many of the civilians not yet awake as the curfew lifted at five in the morning. Sakura was surprised to see an array of tree limbs scattered about; she hadn't even contemplated how bad the storm last night had been.

"Ah, g-good morning, Doctor Haruno" The man working the clerk's station for the refugee shelter seemed flabbergasted as she arrived with Mashiro in tow, fearful even as he glanced back and forth from her to him. The clerk looked at her white-haired companion with a weary disdain, eyeing his exposed chest far too long.

Another one of Naruto and Sasuke's lackeys. They had the whole damned village under lock and key.

"Is there a problem?" Mashiro spoke coolly, sending the clerk into a fenzy of waving hands. Sakura would have laughed if she wasn't so annoyed.

She clicked her tongue against clenched teeth, taking care not to say anything reckless as Mashiro collected his items. Sakura eyed the katanas he secured to either side of his hips, an ornate sheath adorning each.

She shot the clerk a fiery glare in warning as they left, pleased with the quickly draining color from his face. She led them down a winding back road until they stopped at a tiny shop at a dead end. Mashiro glanced down at her as she smirked, grasping his sleeve and pulling him inside with her.

"Miss Sakura! How lovely of you to bring a friend this time!" A tiny, frail old woman inched out toward the front of the shop, tapping her cane as she neared them, peering up at Mashiro in awe. "And what a magnificent looking man this is! If only I were a few decades younger," she groaned out.

Sakura couldn't help the small smile that played on her lips as Mashiro kneeled down on one knee, gently shaking her hand in introduction. The poor woman might end up having a heart attack right there and then.

Sakura pulled him toward the back, weaving though the rooms, stopping to wave at a member of the kitchen staff before sinking into a cubby in the far back. It was a wall of greenery, plants dotting every inch of the small space, the scent of eucalyptus and mint wafting around them.

Mashiro glanced around in amused wonder, presumably comparing her choice of space to the aseptic white of her office. It was an explosion of color and music, the shop owner appearing only to place two steaming mugs in front of them with a wink in Mashiro's direction before leaving them alone.

Sakura sighed deeply after the first sip, melting into the back of her seat, tilting her head up the stare at the vines hanging above her. She used to frequent this café almost everyday with baked goods from her father's shop.

That was before there we no longer any baked goods, because there was no bakery, with no father to run it. She hadn't been able to tolerate the sad, pitying stares always directed at her for a long while, only just recently having the gull to come back.

"Hmm," Mashiro seemed displeased, drawing her back to reality from her mental rambling, leaning forward to rest her chin on her clasped hands.

She narrowed her eyes at his confused frown. "You don't like it?" she whispered in disbelief, leaning closer, not wanting the owner to overhear.

He glanced to the hallway, gleaming gold and whites leaning closer as well, cheek resting on a single closed fist. They were inches apart as Sakura's pink brows furrowed in frustration.

"It's a little bitter," he admitted, a lopsided grin gracing his features at Sakura's obvious disapproval.

She cradled her own mug in two hands, holding it to his lips, urging him forward. "Here, try mine, it's a special recipe."

His free hand blanketed over hers as he brought it closer, long lashes sweeping across his cheeks as he drank, bright eyes blinking at her in surprise as he set it down, the soft skin of his fingertips lingering over her hand just long enough to make Sakura's lips twitch.

"Is that..?" he began, white brow raised. "Lavender and coconut" she agreed, whispering eagerly, index finger absentmindedly tracing the rim of her mug where his lips had just been.

"Why are we whispering?" she was acutely aware of their proximity then, the stranger across from her leaning to the side once more, head tilted in that same peculiar manner as he studied her.

"The shop owner is nosy; I won't have you insulting the poor woman's coffee. I am her best customer, after all." Sakura leaned back, switching their drinks so that she had his instead, taking a long, drawn-out sip.

Her nose crinkled as the bitter liquid touched her tongue, Mashiro's soft laughter earning him a pointed stare as he happily accepted the trade, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he tasted lavender once more.

Her body suddenly felt hot; she doubted it was the coffee.

"You come here often, then?" he smiled softly as he glanced around the space, exuding a gentle confidence she had not seen in anyone of his stature, certainly not with his reputation. She pondered the contents of his file while watching him thumb over the waxy green of a peace lily leaf.

"I used to come here every day," she began. His thumb swiped back and forth again before he reached for the mug, waiting for her to continue. "Not so much anymore, for sake of time management." It was a big, fat lie and she knew it.

"Mm. Too busy dancing in the rain?" she blinked at him, eyes widening slightly, lips set in a grim line. He hadn't seen her at the gates; it was impossible. She had cleared the length of almost the entire village before she ran into him.

"I could say the same for you, lurking around past curfew in the middle of the storm" she retorted, peering up at him through her lashes.

"What is that all about, this curfew? I've never heard of such a thing." He leaned back, arms stretching out over top both sides of the booth. "Are we in prison?" His long fingers drummed over the tops of the seat back.

Oh, he had no idea.

"There are only two days when the curfew is lifted. The summer solstice festival in three days' time and the annual celebration in the fall commemorating the war's end on October tenth," Sakura explained, doing little to hide the displeasure in her voice.

The summer solstice not only marked the largest terrorist attack of the village to date, but also the death of her parents. It was a wonder they even continued this tradition after losing so many lives, but Naruto couldn't risk angering the masses by stripping them of their one night of freedom.

A whisper of warmth passed over her tightly wound fist, Mashiro's fingertips ghosting over the bony whites of her knuckles. She didn't pull away, finding the action harmless. The tension released immediately, hand splaying out wide on the wooden tabletop.

"So, what about you, have you always taken care of that group you arrived with?" What she really wanted to know was how a member of a clan of assassins ended up taking care of a group of old women and children.

"They actually took me in, I was a child orphan wandering the countryside at the time, Lady Momoke shielded me from those who sought to use me as a weapon. The rest is history," he spoke so nonchalantly, raising so many questions.

"I know what you're thinking," he began. There was a thoughtful pause before he continued. "My file explains where I come from, and I won't deny that. My clan had many enemies because of their reputation as assassins, and now they're all gone because of it." She couldn't help but notice he left out the part where he was accused of murdering them all.

Why then, did she feel not one ounce of fear around him?

They studied eachother, both waiting for a reaction, expecting to sense a shift in the silence, but nothing came. Mashiro seemed to tell the truth, and Sakura had no grounds not to believe him. She had long since learned after the death of Itachi Uchiha that not everything is as it seems, black or white, dark or light. Sometimes the line between these things blurred, and one can be neither right nor wrong.

"I was told once that wherever there is light, there is darkness. We all have to learn to live with that," she mused, watching the streets slowly begin to come alive, the sun rising higher in the sky. She glanced at the clock on the wall, sighing at how quickly time had passed.

"Will I see you again?" He was direct; it was strangely satisfying to feel wanted, but only served to build up her own emotional walls even further. She didn't know if she was ready to be the object of someone's desires.

Sakura bit her bottom lip before sighing through pursed lips. "I don't know."

She was simply being honest, there was too heavy a weight of expectation if she said yes. They were almost complete strangers; she didn't know if their paths would ever cross again. They seemed to both live complicated lives; quite frankly she wasn't sure she wanted to allow anyone new into her life, it was hard enough for her to trust anyone now as it was.

"Thank you for this, though. It was…refreshing," A twitch of a smile danced across her lips as she stood, prepared to go back to the hospital to finish the stack of paperwork she had fallen asleep on, feeling oddly energized.

Mashiro's hand grasped hers as she passed him, turning her slightly, his thumb swiping over her knuckles as he leaned down to brush his lips across the top of her hand.

"Maybe in the next storm?" his chin tilted up at her from where he sat, releasing her hand to push his white hair back and out of his face, revealing a satisfied smirk.

"The next storm, then" she waved him off, leaving him there sitting alone.

She cursed the heat that had risen to her cheeks, the old woman wiggling her brows at her as she left. It was the first time she had felt this flustered in years. Slender fingers brushed over her cheeks, willing it away.

Naruto was right about one thing; this man was dangerous.