There were some smells that Sakura knew would accompany her until the day she died.

Ichiraku's ramen, Kakashi-sensei's special cleaning products, Sasuke's tsubaki blossom shampoo that he used to hide whenever they had a sleepover. Even the sterile smell of the hospital that she would so often complain to Ino about.

Most of all, the heavy scent of iron that she couldn't seem to be able to forget: blood.

She never imagined she'd develop an aversion to something that was such a constant in her life. After all, what good was a field medic who detested the idea of being around blood for any length of time?

It was not a phobia, not like Tsunade's had been. There was no crippling fear or the compelling need to escape no matter the consequences. There was no elevated heartbeat or cold sweat doting her skin or violent shivers wracking her spine. She could still be around blood, could still dip her hands in wounds that most others would turn their gazes away from. She just didn't want to. She'd spent the better part of her teenage life knee-deep in blood; her enemies', her friends', her own. People she'd hated, people she'd loved, and people she wished she could kill all over again.

And for the life of her, she'd had enough. She'd had enough of watching the lives of people slip away, sometimes through her fingers, right before her eyes. It was not particularly strange, if she thought about it long enough. What sane person would willingly seek out danger and injury?

Heh, take a look in the mirror, Haruno, a cruel voice whispered in her mind. A voice that sounded a lot like Danzo, though these days, any hateful thought that crossed her mind sounded suspiciously like him.

While she knew she'd never stop tending to the injured and mending the wounds of those who couldn't do it themselves, she could honestly say that she'd rather drink a whole jug of sewer water than be around blood for longer than absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, her recently developed aversion to the smell, had somehow made her even more sensitive to it. Much like a bloodhound, her nose had become an expert at recognizing it amongst dozens of others. From Bennett's badly scrapped knees when he entered her little office at the Adventurer's Guild, to the papercuts that Margaret was so prone to inflicting on herself, she'd become annoyingly good at picking up those unpleasant trails.

Which was why she was immediately pulled out of slumber when the unsettlingly familiar smell of copper hit her nose.

Her eyes snapped open and her gaze focused on her window. As she had expected, the dark silhouette of a person stared back at her from their place on her narrow windowsill and Sakura scowled.

That fool…

Throwing the covers aside and swiftly jumping to her feet, she made her way to the window. The dark shape was still there, meeting her glare head on and for just a moment she contemplated going back to sleep without acknowledging his presence, but then the smell of iron assaulted her senses again. Sighing deeply, she unlocked her window and pulled it open.

"Come in and sit so I can explain is painstaking detail how much of an idiot you are," she ordered, glare still in place, before hastily making her way to her bedside table where her medical supplies were already awaiting her.

She heard the man grunt as he slipped in her room, her heart clenching at the painful undertones that he so carefully tried to hide. He shut the window behind him to keep the cool breeze of the night out and dragged his feet to a chair. Even though he made an effort to silence himself, she still heard his wince as he sat, and she felt her anger dissipate, worry taking its place in her gut.

Arming herself with patience, she kneeled beside him. Forming a chakra scalpel, she made quick work of the layers of clothing, her brow furrowing in worry at the way the blood-soaked fabric clung to his skin.

"This is the third time you tear my clothes like that in two weeks. I'm running out of black shirts to wear."

She met his gaze and scowled as her nimble fingers peeled off the layers to reveal a deep gash a couple of inches above his hipbone.

"Aw, how terrible! I feel for you and your plight," she said with sarcasm dripping from her tongue. "My sincerest condolences, your shirts will be sorely missed."

"You're mad at me."

Sakura smiled sweetly at him, eyes illuminated eerily by the green light engulfing her fingers. "Oh no, I'm not mad. I'm bloody furious," she growled out, emphasizing her point by pressing her hands to his wound hard enough to make him wince. "What in the world were you thinking?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Oh, will you stop? Two days ago, you came back with four broken ribs. Three days before that, your head was gushing blood all over my floor. What am I to expect next time? Your corpse? If that were to happen…how would I ever manage to pick up whatever pieces of me you'd leave behind?"

She was panting slightly by the end of her speech, chest heaving more out of frustration than lack of oxygen. She pressed a hand to her breast, willing her pounding heart to calm down, and sighed deeply at the silence that followed her words.

Without even looking at him, she stood and turned her back to him. "Your wound's healed. There's a bowl of water and washcloths in the bathroom. I've also left a change of clothes for you there. Go clean up and I'll make some soup."

"You are prepared."

She rolled her eyes though he couldn't see. "Master Cyrus asked me to deliver a last-minute commission notice to Jack. I tracked him down to the tavern, and when I saw Charles manning the bar even though it's Saturday night, the situation became pretty damn obvious."

"I see."

She heard him stand, busying herself with pulling out pots and ingredients so she wouldn't have to face him. In truth, what she feared the most wasn't what she'd see in his eyes. It was what he'd see in hers. The crippling fear of losing him that gripped her heart and turned her insides into tight nots. The terrible thoughts that crossed her mind every time he went out at night only to appear outside her window with another new injury, another fresh scar. There was something about his relentless hunt for justice, his complete disregard for his own well-being that was eerily similar to loved ones she'd been forced to bury with her own two hands. It terrified her.

Running her hand through her hair, she took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, willing her worried mind to find some peace. He was here, within reach, alive.

Pushing the incident to the back of her head, she shifted her attention to the fowl and vegetables that'd go into the soup. The rhythmic tap of the knife on the cutting board as she sliced radishes and potatoes was a pleasant distraction, something steady and calm for her brain to latch on and help release some tension.

Cooking had grown to become her own personal therapist, a way to forget her more pressing problems and focus on something creative, a reminder of home. She hadn't been much of a cook back in Konoha, but be it the need to feed herself something other than soldier pills or her desire to regain some semblance of normality, she'd grown to love making her meals from scratch.

I do wonder if some dandelion wine would bring out the flavor-

"You're wearing my shirt."

His voice reached her ears, deep and beautiful like soft velvet slipping over her skin. She glanced down at the crème-colored nightshirt that she'd very deliberately stolen a few weeks ago.

The ties at the front were open, allowing the wide neckline to slip down one shoulder, and the hem just barely reached a little below her thigh, the garment way too light for this time of year. Still, it smelled like him and that was enough for her. She always slept better surrounded by his comforting scent.

Her hand stilled when she felt arms wrap around her waist from behind, a warm chest pressing against her back.

"Are you still mad at me?"

She resumed cutting the potatoes, her brow furrowed. "Yes, I am."

He hummed, resting his chin on her shoulder, crimson hair tickling her skin. "It was not my intension to worry you, forgive me."

She sighed audibly for what felt like the tenth time in just an hour. "I know you don't do it on purpose, but please…Please take me with you next time."

"You ask too much of me. I don't want you anywhere near those Abyss Order abominations."

She leaned back against him, closing her eyes and inhaling his scent of smoke, pine and musk that she wished would stick to her skin for the rest of her life.

"I don't want to be near them. I want to be near you. I want to be able to help you should anything go awry." Turning in his arms, she looked up at him for the first time that night. "I just want to keep you safe, Diluc."

He pressed his forehead to hers, stroking slow circles in the small of her back. "Isn't it my job to keep you safe?"

Sakura snorted good-naturedly. "Need I remind you that the first time we met, I was holding an Abyss Mage by the throat?"

"I recall the incident. A reckless move. One of the many you seem to make, or so Cyrus tells me. He's surprised you've managed to survive for so long," he replied, sending her a pointed look.

"I punch a Mitachurl in the face one time, and you refuse to let it go." The pink-haired medic grinned, feeling her spirits lift. "I take calculated risks, is all."

Diluc raised an eyebrow, pinching her side. "One time?"

"Fine, fine! A couple of times. And it works every single one of them-"

"Sakura."

"Hey, stop it. It's my turn to scold you tonight, not the other way around."

The man chuckled, dropping his head to her collarbone, lips brushing her skin. "I can't promise to take you with me whenever I go out at night, but I give you my word that from now on, I'll make sure to notify you and let you know where I'll be heading. Forgive me?"

Her gaze met his, and for a few seconds, she allowed herself to get lost in the vermillion of his eyes and the warmth that he exuded. Her body's reaction to him was instantaneous, her muscles relaxing as if recognizing she was finally where she wanted to be. Feeling the tension leave her, she laid her against his chest, ear pressed where his heart was. His heartbeat was steady much like he was. Strong, reliable, safe.

"Fine, you're forgiven. Don't expect me to forget that promise though, Ragnvindr."

Diluc chuckled, a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine, and brushed his lips over hers. "Whatever my lady desires."

Sakura giggled, giving him another quick kiss, before turning around to finish chopping the rest of the ingredients for the soup. "Now, go sit and I'll be with you shortly."

He hummed in response, arms still around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder once more, breath tickling her neck. "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am."

"Diluc, I need to finish cooking."

"And I'm here to offer my unwavering support. Carry on."

"Let me wrap this up and once we're done eating, I'll let you take your shirt off me."

"That chair looks rather empty, so I'll sit right over there-"

TBC

Xiao came home! ( )

Welcome to the family adeptus baby. Together, we'll conquer the Spiral Abyss!

Heya!

It occurred to me that I may have neglected Diluc a bit in his first chapter as there wasn't any romance in that one, so here's some cute Diluc/Sakura fluff.

I can now move on to Tartaglia and his hot Fatui butt.

I hope you enjoyed this!

Reading your thoughts always makes my day so drop me a review if you have a minute to spare.

Until next time,

Lots of love!