Chapter 3: stars rush through you
You're a runoff pipe,
an empty apartment, a
vacuum, so of course the
stars rush through you.
- Fortunately, Nava EtShalom
Since Sakura is on mandatory leave, she constantly has her phone in her hand throughout the day. She walks around her empty flat, a bathrobe-wrapped ghost from morning until evening, watches bad television, clicks stupid photos of herself, engages in a lot of mindless, boring masturbation with light fingertips on her clit, and when Temari has to postpone their weekend movie plans due to work emergency, Sakura is ready to blow a fuse.
So she goes out and buys a lucky bamboo plant. The light in the living room window is usually the best throughout the day, so that's where the pot goes. She clicks a photo of it and puts up as a story on her social media with the caption, Meet Bill.
With that out of the way, she putters around her bedroom some more, sorting through her meagre wardrobe, doing a load of laundry, and then blaring music so it wouldn't be so quiet. She never thought she'd miss the frantic energy of hospitals.
Well, she never thought she'd develop a crush on an engaged man and have a hot make-out session in the car with his cousin, either, but here we are.
When her phone keeps buzzing with enough notifications, she finally attends to it.
Yamanaka Ino
OMG, go out for a walk.
What if I meet another lame dude and have to punch him?
Uzumaki Naruto
I love Bill!
And Bill wuvs you!
Sabaku Temari
Let's make sure Bill stays in the window.
He will if you stop cancelling on me.
Deidara
Nice to meet you, Bill. Your mom is a total nutcase. Good luck!
Pot, meet kettle.
Uchiha Itachi liked your story.
Sakura throws the phone on the couch. It bounces a few times before lodging itself in one of the cracks. Satisfied, she goes for that walk Ino suggested.
When Itachi posts a new reel, he's demonstrating a perfect dive.
The video converts into slow motion in the middle bit and Sakura stares, fascinated, by the flexing of his muscles, his determined stare, the sinuous length of his body. She gulps down the sudden burst of saliva in her mouth.
He's fucking taken, you horny piece of shit.
This is – torture. Absolute torture. She barely knows the dude. How is it that his mere presence, his mere existence, is screwing with her head so bad? Sakura has had such intense attraction before, not that she never did, but a few bangs are usually enough to get them out of her system. In this case, she can't exactly do that. She can't – he's engaged, for fuck's sake.
Sakura turns to her pillow once more to scream into it.
Two days before when she's due to return to work, Konan texts her. She asks Sakura if she's free to hang out so Sakura takes the tube to Neiki and finds not only Konan in the café but Itachi, too.
He's dozing on the table when Sakura takes a seat. It's jarring to see him fully clothed when she hadn't been able to get his naked body out of her head for over a week now.
"Hey!" Konan greets her cheerfully, which startles Itachi into alertness.
He blinks at Sakura, then beams. "Hey. Show me your hands."
Sakura does. She holds them out and Itachi takes them in his hands to inspect the damage. He's so casual about it, Jesus Christ. Her chest is pounding at the contact and it breaks her heart a little to witness first hand that Itachi isn't as affected as her at all.
Of course, he's not.
"Ino told us the story," Konan giggles. "I never thought I'd hear about a nurse punching someone in the face."
Itachi returns her hands. Sakura doesn't know what to do with them anymore, so she picks up the menu. "I never thought I'd hear a fifties, backward-thinking dialogue from a beautiful man's mouth, but here we are."
"How beautiful are we talking here?" Konan asks curiously.
"Think of the perfect man you'd wanna bang–"
Itachi groans. "Not you, too, Sakura!"
Sakura mouth snaps shut in an instant. It's the first time Itachi has said her name, actually said it instead of just launching into a dialogue, and it feels as though the whole world has suddenly righted itself, when she hadn't been aware it was wrong in the first place.
While Sakura tries to recover, thankfully, Konan is berating Itachi for acting homophobic and Itachi is defending himself like his life depends on it.
"I've never had a problem with people who aren't straight," he's saying when Sakura tunes back into the conversation, "you know that. I just don't want to talk about men's genitalia all the time! There's nothing wrong with that!"
"Sai is straight, too," Konan argues. "He never seems to have a problem with it."
Itachi shoots her an incredulous look. "It's Sai! Remember that one time he talked in great detail about a snail's reproductive organs? Humans are just an upgrade, by his standards."
Sakura clears her throat. "Actually, I was never going to talk about what a great package he could be carrying. I was referring more to his – uh – Adonis-like facial features. You know, good enough for a hook-up." Then she suddenly feels highly embarrassed and coughs awkwardly. "I mean, I suppose you wouldn't know much about hook-ups."
Itachi turns to her with a flat stare. Konan cracks up, giving her a high-five.
"Har har, very funny."
"What are your Christmas plans?" Konan asks her once she's calmed down. "We were planning to have a house party. You should join."
Sakura's mind blanks out. "Huh?"
"We're thinking of meeting up at Sasuke's flat since it's the biggest we have available," she explains. "It's a casual thing, too. Music, drinks, dinner, gifts."
"I – ah, I don't really do gifts."
"Oh, you don't have to buy for all," Konan assures her. "We'll do a Secret Santa thing so everyone will get only one person."
"I guess that's – okay. Uh, sure. Count me in."
"Great!"
Itachi throws her a grin. Sakura returns it before wondering if Izumi will be visiting. Shit.
Somehow, they get into the topic of which shows they're currently streaming. Konan is highly invested in a Norwegian show called Scam and Itachi says he's watching the BBC Sherlock series. Sakura almost bounces off her seat.
"Wait, shit, you like Sherlock?"
Itachi grins. "Who doesn't?"
"My ex said it was boring as fuck."
"Your ex clearly has bad taste." After a brief pause, he bursts out in a bark of laughter. "No offense."
Sakura doesn't know whether to join in the laughter, because that's a good one, or whether to be annoyed. She does both. "Which episode are you on?"
"I just finished Reichenbach."
"Ooo, that's a good one."
"It is," Itachi says excitedly, "I wonder how they'll explain it away. I mean, they might not, either, to keep the mystery alive, but John looks so messed up, it would be downright cruel not to."
Sakura shakes her head, grinning. "You'll just have to wait and see. Do you have any theories?"
"So many," Itachi groans. "And it feels like they left trails throughout, like that rubber ball Sherlock was playing with before he went to the roof. A chemical that creates hallucinogenic reaction and makes you see what you thought you'd see? That's just a nice, good ol' weapon ready to be used. I wouldn't put it past Sherlock to use that; he already experimented with it. Not to mention that Mycroft is practically the British government as Sherlock likes to remind everyone. It would be fairly easy to make someone appear dead."
"Guys," Konan cuts in exasperatedly. "I haven't watched the show yet!"
Sakura looks at her with wide eyes. "Are you going to? Do you want to binge-watch it together?"
"You've already seen it," Konan points out.
Both Itachi and Sakura exchange a perplexed look, turn to Konan, and exclaim together, "It's Sherlock!"
Konan stares between them. "Geez, excuse me, you weirdos."
Sakura sighs in disappointment. "You don't get it."
Itachi nods. "She doesn't get it."
"Konan, the suits," Sakura says dreamily. "The story. The dialogues."
"Irene Adler," Itachi adds meaningfully.
"Don't," Sakura shakes her head. "Don't go there. The only time I was mad at the show was when she only got one episode. I mean, what a woman."
"The Woman," Itachi says with a deliberate chin-tilt.
"The Woman," Sakura agrees solemnly.
They clink their glasses of water in a tribute.
"You still have to place your order," Konan reminds her dryly.
When Sakura gets up to do just that, Itachi rises to his feet, as well. Konan points out he's still on his diet and that Kakashi will murder him if Itachi breaks it so soon before his next competition.
"I'm seeing if they take custom orders, mom," Itachi rolls his eyes.
Konan slaps him on the back before he's out of reach. He falls into step with Sakura and they make their way to the counter in the back. Sakura is acutely aware of the heat coming off of his long body and tries not to bump into him as much as possible as they manoeuvre between the tables.
Sakura orders for a coffee and Itachi skims through the menu, asking the man behind the counter if they could make a few adjustments. The man says that they can so Itachi rattles off a list of instructions. Why the fuck is this so attractive? He's just trying to consume a healthy, fruity beverage, Jesus Christ.
All of a sudden, Sakura realises that it's rather difficult to talk with Itachi, mostly because she feels so awkward and uncomfortable now that it's just the two of them. She has no idea which topics are safe and which aren't, and she doesn't want to make Itachi awkward or uncomfortable around her just because she doesn't know how to get over her crush still.
"When's your next competition?" Sakura asks him, believing that's a safe enough topic.
Itachi leans back on his elbows, ankles hooked. He yawns drowsily before answering. "Two weeks into January."
A brief silence.
"Can I ask you something?" She blurts out nervously. Itachi prompts her with an absent hum. "Someone – uh, someone mentioned you had an injury before?"
Itachi's face does this thing – this thing that is neither embarrassment nor anger, but a nice cocktail of both. Sakura wonders if this is another boundary she's not meant to cross and is about to apologize when Itachi replies.
"It was when I was twenty years old," he says in a heavy tone. He doesn't look at her when he speaks but at a fixed point in the air in front of him. His entire body is tense when it was relaxed five seconds ago, and he's clenching his jaw rather tightly. "I was – uh. I was running late to a competition and drove rashly. I crashed into a pole to avoid hitting the other car and injured my spine. The recovery took me a little over a year and then… I was advised not to swim competitively. To be fair, my chances were really bad to even – survive, I suppose."
For the first time, Sakura sees the man behind the handsome swimmer with a gorgeous body. The way Itachi openly talks about his traumatic experience, shares details with a stranger simply because she asked… it's obvious now that he must be blaming himself for it, hence the anger, and Sakura forgets all about the boundaries she's struggling to maintain.
Itachi continues with a self-deprecating laugh. "They were right, you know. I'm past my peak years. I'm lucky Kakashi even agreed to coach me at this point. But I just," he says with growing frustration, "I just don't know what else to do. Swimming has been my whole life." Then he turns to her, fixing her under a hard look. "Wasn't there something you wanted your whole life? Imagine this doctor telling you one day that you can't do it. That you just – have to give up. Give it all up."
The thing is, is when Sakura was twelve years old, she wanted to become an astronaut.
There was a chapter in the Geography textbook, beautiful illustrations of galaxies and solar systems and supernovas, mind-blowing facts about the sun and the moon and the Saturn's rings. She learned terms such as light years and black holes. She learned of the eternities that existed between stars, between the past and the future.
She thought she could maybe explore all of them. Go up in a space shuttle, donned in the special suit, and once up there, take a leap into the vacuum. Even if things go south, she could drift through space, watch all of Jupiter's moons from up close, maybe rest the debate on Pluto's planetary status once and for all.
Her father would bring her all types of space books, DVDs, astronomical charts that she hung in her bedroom along with the radium Milky Way on the ceiling. Every night, she'd sleep under the stars, dreaming of magical beanstalks that reach the moon or tiny spheres of bright silver that she could touch and chase the black holes away. She could rearrange entire constellations.
The dream eventually died, replaced by a more realistic goal. Turns out, her curiosity of science could actually save lives. When Tsunade first proposed the idea of becoming a doctor, her parents were downright exhilarated. They redecorated the house with biology charts and lists of diseases. The stars on her ceiling faded away, flickering a weak neon green before turning useless.
It was fine, as it turned out. Once Sakura paid more attention to the human body, she realised humans were nothing short of miracles themselves. The intricate working of all the organs, the collective effort of every single anatomical part like a well-oiled engine, to survive, to repair, to heal, to live, was truly fascinating. It reminded her of the galaxies hanging in nothingness, born and dying, and being born again. Nothing ever truly died was the thing. Everything just got converted into something else.
Sakura had heard an old fable as a child. Her mother would tell her how all her grandparents passed away and became stars in the sky. It was a comforting thought, to know they were up there, watching her, so Sakura would dream of skipping from one star to another, imagining her grandfather's gruff laughter or her grandmother's sweet promises of candies.
The first time she came across a corpse, it was of her parents.
She stared through blank, numb eyes, the lack of colour, the waxy texture, the make-up. Sakura didn't dream of them becoming stars because they were buried six feet under. She didn't go home and cry because nothing ever truly dies, just gets converted. She saw the flames of the gas stove and wondered if her father's laughter echoed through the crackling rumble. She walked around in her backyard and asked if her mother's arms had returned to her loving garden.
Death is a complicated feeling, she realised. It's rather ironic because the dead can't feel shit but leave plenty for the ones that are left behind. Sakura also realised that no old fable was ever going to fool anyone.
Changing her major to nursing was – well. At least nurses don't have to bury their hands in blood and bones, at least nurses don't have to worry about writing prescriptions that could go awfully wrong, at least nurses don't have to deliver terrible news.
Sakura breaks the eye contact, turning to stare at the shiny marble flooring with a humorless smile.
They wait in a weird, limbo silence until they're called to collect their orders. Itachi picks them both up, hands Sakura her coffee, and Sakura has to look up at him. Eyes locked, she stammers out.
"I – uh. I know what you mean."
A second stretches out and then Itachi smiles.
Apparently, Konan and Itachi will be going in the opposite direction from Sakura. As they walk to the nearest tube station together, the conversation is light and mundane. Konan is between Itachi and Sakura, so Sakura at least feels like she can breathe.
At the station, they still have fifteen minutes to kill. Sakura notices one of those homeless singers in a corner, strumming to the tune of One More Light. She sings the song under her breath on reflex, humming the parts she can't remember, and mumbles away awkwardly when Itachi turns to watch her curiously. She has a shitty singing voice, she knows, but Itachi surprisingly doesn't look bothered by it.
Just to get rid of the restless energy, Sakura goes over to drop a few coins in the empty guitar case. The man throws her a grateful grin, calling out a quick cheerful thanks before continuing with his song.
By the time Sakura returns to the other two, Konan is discussing something about some other lifeguard at the pool so Sakura chooses to stay out of the conversation entirely. When the trains arrive, they exchange side-hugs and Konan reminds her of the Christmas plans.
"Hang on," she says and jabs a few buttons on her phone. Sakura's mobile beeps in her pocket. "There. I've added you to the group so we can all stay in the loop."
"Okay, thanks."
Itachi throws her another smile before they all turn to board their respective trains.
Dr. Kabuto is barking out orders as they push the stretcher through the emergency doors.
The elderly male is moaning and gasping in pain, his bone sticking out through the ankle. It's completely shattered.
"Lucky it's not your spine, huh?" Sakura says sympathetically as she fixes him up with tubes.
Even through the haze of pain, the man manages to shoot her an incredulous look.
"I mean, can you imagine?" Sakura continues. "I see here that you have a wife. She must be on the way. I bet you anything that she'll be relieved to hear she doesn't have to go cowgirl on you at this age."
The disbelief turns into a surprised laughter. But he's still wheezing so Dr. Kabuto yells at her to get it together.
Sakura runs around the scene, keeping up with the host of instructions, winking and making ridiculous remarks whenever she can get away with it – sure, it would have saved you from taking the efforts to wipe yourself but at what cost? And it's always good to keep some mystery alive in a marriage. And then as she's cutting off his pants to put him in a hospital gown, You must be thankful you don't have diabetes. The man rolls his eyes and it's not long before Dr. Kabuto declares that they need to take the patient into the operating theatre stat.
A long exhale rattles out of her lungs when the doors bang shut. She turns around to head back to the trauma centre and bumps into Hinata in a packed elevator. Her skin is stretched tight around the eyes, her shoulders are slouching, and she looks dead on her feet.
"Take a break, for fuck's sake," Sakura says angrily. "You look like you're gonna fall off any second. Besides, I thought you weren't on this shift today."
Hinata clutches at her folder tightly, lets out an explosive sigh. "Tenten is on a holiday so I'm stepping in for her. I can't take a break yet; there's a lot to do."
"Why would you even do that?" Sakura hisses lowly. "She takes too many holidays and everyone else has to pick up after her. I don't know why she isn't fired already."
Maybe Sakura wasn't quiet enough because someone in the back quips up, "It's because she's sleeping with the Chief."
It's the Neuro surgeon, Dr. Nagato. Sakura turns to look at him over the shoulder and finds him staring back in his usual scrutinising way, as though humans are not humans for him but a bundle of nerves to study. She raises an eyebrow and he shrugs back.
"Everyone knows it."
Another nurse that Sakura has never spoken to before coughs awkwardly. "Yep."
"Except for the Chief's wife," the paediatric intern points out.
"And it should remain that way," Dr. Tamaki says with a disdainful sneer. "Don't you have work to do instead of gossiping about your superiors?"
"Tenten is a nurse," Sakura replies coldly. "She's certainly not my superior."
Dr. Tamaki scoffs. "Of course. You believe no one is your superior, not when you're the daughter of the owner."
The other squirm uncomfortably.
Sakura grits her teeth painfully. "I'm not Tsunade's daughter."
"You might as well be. Everyone knows to keep you out of any incriminating news around the hospital." Dr. Tamaki proceeds in a highly sarcastic snarl, "I wonder why that is."
The elevator doors ping open and half of it empties out, shooting Sakura visibly awkward smiles. Even Dr. Tamaki leaves. When it's just Dr. Nagato and Hinata with her, Sakura turns to them.
"Is that true?" she demands furiously.
Hinata is avoiding her gaze entirely. Dr. Nagato, on the other hand, nods nonchalantly.
"Perfect," Sakura bites out in a rage. "This is just fucking perfect. Is that why I got that leave when my hand was busted up?"
"Well," Dr. Nagato ponders, "you would have had to take a leave, anyway. But they made it mandatory so you wouldn't miss out on your pay, I suppose."
She kicks the wall of the elevator twice before Hinata grumbles her if she's looking to receive another paid leave by messing up her feet. Sakura shoots her a glare that is weirdly grateful.
The elevator dings open and Sakura follows Hinata to the reporting desk. She tries not to sound too accusing when she says, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
Hinata shrugs, keeping the folder in a stack and rifling through to get another. "I didn't think it would have helped you in any way."
"What?"
"Do you feel any good now that you know?"
"Well, no," Sakura admits with a frown. "So what? I think I would have been better prepared if I knew."
Hinata has found what she's looking for. She spins around to face Sakura, eyebrow cocked. "Prepared for what?"
"I don't know. Just. Dealing with it?"
"You don't need to deal with anything, Sakura," Hinata shakes her head, sighs. "People will always gossip, you know that. You can't help the fact that Tsunade cares about you. People who know you know that you earned this job all by yourself. You're a competent nurse, regardless of whom you're related to."
"I know that," Sakura says defensively. She rubs a hand down her face. "But–"
Hinata cuts in firmly before she can continue. "Then that's it. That's what matters. You know it. You know you haven't done anything wrong."
Tsunade calmly tells her to take a seat.
Sakura doesn't. She paces the living room, too agitated to even care about manners at the moment. Tsunade doesn't push her. She sinks into the pillows, crossing her knees, one hand draped over the back of the couch. Sakura is acutely aware of the hazel eyes following her every movement.
"Did you know about this?"
"Perhaps. I know every little thing that goes on in the hospital, Sakura."
Sakura can't help the sarcasm when she asks, "Even about Tenten?"
"Yes."
"Why isn't she fired?"
"Just because I know everything doesn't mean I interfere."
Sakura waits.
Tsunade doesn't disappoint. "The Chief will be receiving his letter of probation soon. Two of his previous surgeries could have been salvaged if he had been investing extra efforts in his research instead of screwing the nurse."
"Why not the nurse?"
"Firing the nurse is similar to getting rid of the side-kicks in a movie that no one cares about. She can be replaced. But the Chief? That sends a stronger message."
"You've thought about this."
Tsunade smirks. "I can't have the reputation of my leading doctors on the page three of gossip newsletter and expect clients to take us seriously. I'm running a hospital, not the entertainment industry."
Sakura nods, stops pacing, then resumes after two seconds. "What if the Chief wasn't married? What if he wasn't cheating?"
A surprised silence chokes the air.
"That's not my concern," Tsunade replies carefully. "Even if the Chief weren't married, he would still be acting unethically in a professional environment. Forming sexual relationships with a colleague who is technically, on a hierarchy, working under you can prove to be damaging in the longer run."
Sakura gulps. "Of course."
"Hmm."
The house is quiet, too quiet. On the wall, the clock goes tick tock tick tock tick tock. Sakura's palms sweat but she keeps pacing, now in a broken rhythm, until the air itself feels suffocating.
Tsunade makes it worse. "Is there anything I need to know?"
"No!" Sakura blurts out. She knows it's not convincing in the least. She takes a calming breath, then repeats in a steadier voice. "No. Not yet."
"When the time comes?"
"Yes."
Sakura hopes the time never comes.
Temari calls her later that day, asking if Sakura wants to meet up. Too exhausted, Sakura requests her to drop by instead.
"We could order something nice," she says, "What would you like to eat?"
Temari is standing in the middle of the living room, examining the place curiously. It's not a large flat; a modest one-bedroom apartment that is enough for one occupant. The rent is affordable as hell, mostly because there is no elevator and Sakura is certain the fifth floor stinks of weed.
Temari raises her eyebrows. "Are you actually saying we have a date?"
"Why not?" Sakura shrugs. "I already know about the texture of your tongue in my mouth, I think it's fair to suggest that I learn about your life goals."
Temari shakes her head, laughing. She drops down beside Sakura on the couch, clutching a throw pillow in her lap, and lolls her neck onto the backrest, staring at the ceiling.
"Well, you already know I'm a bartender. Truth is, I don't really know what my life goals are. I was what? Seven? When Gaara was born. He was a really cute kid, always followed me around. That was the time Itachi was ten and Sasuke was eight. So we were pretty much together for all the family dinners and functions, that sort of thing.
"I remember when Itachi dragged me to the pool one day in their backyard. He was practicing holding his breath under water, said he wanted to break some sort of record. Sasuke practically had his head buried in the pool over the edge to make sure Itachi was okay. Gaara was playing in my lap because the adults were being too loud, so he couldn't stop crying and our parents became too frustrated to deal with him.
"I don't know. It's just – looking after Gaara was my whole 'life goal' or whatever. By the time I graduated high school, I realised I didn't have anything of my own. Itachi was breaking records by then – that was before his injury. And Sasuke was convinced that he wanted to become a game-maker or something. That's why he went into coding. But me? I knew how to mix drinks so that's what I did."
Before his injury.
Before his injury.
Before his–
Sakura clenches her fist beneath her butt, gritting her teeth. She studies the tiny wisps of soft hair behind Temari's ear, the profile of her nose. It would be so easy, so easy to fall for this woman. "Well, you have the time now. To be fair, even Sasuke mentioned about switching careers. You shouldn't feel too bad for being a responsible sister."
Temari smiles, turning to face her. "Do you have any siblings?"
"Not real ones, no," Sakura says. "I did know a few cousins growing up, but we are barely in touch anymore."
"How did your parents die?"
Sakura sucks in a sharp breath. Without actively meaning to, her whole body tenses up, still as a statue. She forces herself to relax. "I… you never told me what you'd have for dinner."
Temari stares. "What?"
Sakura pastes a grin on her face, bumping their shoulders together. "What? Come on, you're not planning to make me guess your favourite dishes, are you? If I suck on your fingers, know that I'm trying to seduce you for another hot make-out session."
Temari is giving her such a pitying look; it forces Sakura to look away. She jumps to her feet under the excuse of grabbing her phone to place the order.
"You know what? I think we should order something that no one ever orders. That would be adventurous. If it tastes bad, I could just lick it off your neck."
Without really waiting for a response, Sakura presses the phone to her ear, walking to the window. She plays with Bill's leaves a little as she places the order and the woman on the other end asks her three times if she's sure about it.
Temari doesn't ask her again. As they wait for the food to be delivered, Sakura puts on a cooking show on the television. When the food does arrive, they're way too hungry to talk much. Temari kisses her goodbye when she leaves; it's a soft, sweet kiss. Gentle and patient.
The food wasn't half-bad.
Later that night, she's scrolling through her phone aimlessly when she receives a text alert from Itachi. Sakura blinks, reads the time, 10.07 PM, and hesitates before opening the chat box.
I love Mary.
Laughing, she types back. Me, too.
They never did reveal the truth.
Nope, you were right.
John better hear it off-screen, at least.
You're very sympathetic towards John.
Of course, I am. We've got a club going called People Who Get Injured And It Changes Their Lives.
Technically, he left the army but you're still swimming.
No one likes haters, not even of imaginary clubs.
Uh huh.
XD
Update cycle is erratic but not longer than a week. *shrug*