Chapter 18 – The Things You Put In Your Head

Glancing over her shoulder, she pulled the blanket away, tutting under her breath at how heavy the ugly checked thing was. It was similar to what the inns had to offer around Konoha, reminding her of the countless nights she'd spent lying awake, worrying herself sick about how her current mission would turn out, worrying endlessly about the boy she loved.

"Fever," she murmured to herself, agitated to say the least. "How many times do I have to tell those idiots?"

She felt her stomach grow knotted as she spotted the state of the child's skin, the strange, mottled shade of blue filling her with a dread she couldn't entirely understand. Whatever illness he had, for some reason, she knew of it. The name of it was on the tip of her tongue. Ready to be blurted out so that the others could treat him.

So that you can treat him.

Sakura frowned at that, unable to place where the thought had come from. It surely couldn't have been her own. She wasn't fit to be a medic – couldn't even take care of herself.

"You-"

"Where's the man who treated me?" demanded Sakura, cutting the wide eyed mother off. "Why hasn't he seen to your son?"

The woman was wary as she approached them, clearly attempting to assess the situation as she took in the room, then her son. "He has – there's not much he can do without the specialist equipment needed for testing."

But surely someone of his age would have at least some experience? Surely ordinary medics were capable of noticing symptoms? So what if they didn't have chakra to probe the patient's body? They were trained to spot warning signs and symptoms and the child laying before her, sucking in grunting shallow breaths, was riddled with them. The skin, the fever, the lethargy and the breathing – just to name a few. Goddamn it, why couldn't she name the illness? Why did she know the illness and the signs? What the hell did she do?

Just as the mother made a move to replace the blanket on her son, Sakura once more tugged it away, throwing it carelessly to the ground. "Stop with the blankets," she snapped. How stupid were these people? "You're going to kill him."

"But he's cold-"

"No, he's not," she argued without pause. "He's not shivering like the rest of us – he's doing it because he's got a fever." Shooting a warning glare towards her when the mother eyed the blanket unsurely, Sakura asked, "How old is he?"

"Five."

Ask when he started to show the signs of being sick. Did he receive any medical treatment beforehand?

The questions had her raising an eyebrow, green eyes once more assessing him. What would it matter if he'd received medical treatment before getting so sick? What kind of infection was severe enough to–

There. You have it. Treat him.

"When did he start getting sick?" she asked, trying to hide her nerves.

Just as uncertain, the mother sat beside her son, gently taking his hand with a frown. "Around the same time we got here – a couple of weeks before yourself." Noticing Sakura's expectant expression pushing for more information, she added hesitantly, "We'd run away from Konoha, claiming that we were visiting family when we requested leave from the village."

Even civilians had to request to leave now? Shinobi had always been burdened with the dreaded process of requests, having to inform the Hokage weeks in advance unless it was an emergency. Anyone unaccounted for on the register to leave or enter the village, was questioned and treated with great suspicion. But civilians had never been tied down by such a rule, since they weren't assets like the rest of them. The rules were far more lenient, to the extent that there were no rules.

"I think we were wandering through the forest for a total of four days when we got caught in the crossfire of a battle." Sadly, she looked to her son's sweating face before reaching out with the rag from the bucket beside his bed, wiping his face down with water that was no doubt room temperature. "Hatake-san's ninken guided us here. Fortunately we weren't too far."

"What kind of injuries did you both sustain?"

The illness she had in mind was not contagious. Though, Sakura supposed, occasionally parasites were equally as capable of causing or spreading it. Fungi and other bacteria, too. Said pathogens were more than capable of being transferred, usually through contaminated objects. Had they been treated with the same medical utensils? Was it due to the medical room so painfully obviously being unsterilized?

"Nothing too severe," she assured her with a shaky smile. "I had a few scrapes and a fairly deep gash on my calf."

"And the boy?"

"Hisoa was the same as myself – scrapes and a gash. A few bruises here and there. We were relatively untouched. One of the shinobi told us to run, but we fell into a ditch because we were frightened and running blindly, too afraid to truly focus on our surroundings. That's where we were injured – the ditch, I mean."

Even if the pathogens were transferred, it wasn't a guarantee for the second person to contract the illness. Was that why the mother wasn't effected as greatly as her son? No, that wasn't true. She was suffering, but for Hisoa's sake, she hid it the best she could. Instead, she continued to put his needs first, clawing through her own pain to try and give him a fighting chance at life.

That's a real hero for you. Not someone like that monster Danzo – someone who claims to have the entire village in his best interest – but her. Those who work to the point of exhaustion to protect the ones they love. Who risk their lives fighting for them. Like the real Tsunade-sama when she almost died to save us all. Not the–

"Hurry up."

The agitation in her shishou's voice had Sakura wincing but much to her confusion, the other voice she'd been hearing up until that point fell silent. Like it was never there to begin with, simply a random thought of her own that she couldn't place. Chuckling once under her breath, she shook her head at her own paranoia. What was she so shocked about? The state her body was in was shocking, sure, but they couldn't see that her mind was a thousand times worse. There was no comparing the damage. Hearing voices was the least of her problems.

"You know what's wrong with him. Treat him."

"How?"

"You know how," Tsunade snapped at her, honey brown eyes narrowing with frustration. "Stop blocking everything out."

But if she let it all back in, it would overwhelm her. The dams in her mind were doing a remarkable job and even then, she struggled. Immensely. If they were lowered, there was no telling what state she would be in. Would she become a zombie, trapped in her own mind, reliving the torture? She couldn't become more vulnerable than what she already was. She couldn't.

"Haruno-san?"

No. She couldn't do it. She wasn't about to dive headfirst into the madness for some kid who didn't mean a damn thing to her. He was dying anyway – what good would sending herself down that dark path do?

"What are you doing?"

"Haruno-san?"

"Treat him."

"Are you okay?"

"You're wasting your talents. All that time I spent on you. Training you. Raising you."

"Sakura-san?"

"Sakura-chan?"

"Sakura."

Biting down on her tongue to the point of drawing blood when her back bumped into a chest, Sakura spun on her heel, unable to keep the fright from her expression as she met the cold stare of her former teammate. Sasuke was unmoving, his features composed. Not once did he look around the room, refusing to allow her to break eye contact. She felt cold. Sick. Dizzy. The room around her was spinning, their voices sounding distant as she fought hard to hear them through the pulse thundering throughout her body, threatening to deafen her. Weak. She was so goddamn weak.

"What's wrong with him?"

Chest heaving, limbs shaking with the effort of keeping herself standing, Sakura took a half step back, but was unable to look away from Sasuke. His question repeated itself in her mind, accompanied with scattered memories of a youth that evoked heartbreak and suffering, elation and love. Throughout it all, she saw those eyes. Those cold, lonely eyes.

"S-Sepsis," she barely managed to whisper.

"Hyuuga. You're trained in medical ninjutsu."

The woman moved behind her, more than likely checking the boy's vitals. "Only the basics," admitted Hinata, her voice hushed. "I can try-"

"Your chakra is too unsteady," Naruto argued. "It's too risky – you could kill him."

The fake Naruto. Pain barely registered in her mind when she bit down on her abused lip, that voice in her mind whispering harshly that if she looked behind herself, she would see for sure that the Naruto with them, was a fake. Tempted, her head turned an inch or two to the right, only to come to a stop with Sasuke's eyes narrowed minutely.

"We have to do something, Naruto-kun," she replied brokenly and there was the sound of more movement behind her, followed by the rustling of packets. "He has been in this state for too long already."

Both Hinata and Naruto spoke amongst themselves, discussing ways of treating the child, using medical terms and mentioning treatments that Sakura knew the latter knew nothing about. There wasn't a chance in hell that Naruto knew–

"Don't."

Eyes still glued on his, she didn't miss Sasuke's warning and instantly, she stopped moving. "He's-"

"The civilian medic should know what to do," Hinata suddenly told Naruto. "Please watch over Hisoa-kun while I go find him and explain the situation."

What was Hinata thinking? Despite the Uchiha's warning, she turned quickly, unable to hide the disbelief as her friend left the room hurriedly. Why the hell would she leave such an obvious fake with the boy?

"You noticed it, too," Tsunade stated, not asked.

How could she not? He didn't even look like the boy she caught glimpses of in her memories. Didn't have the same personality. It was such a poor impersonation that it was laughable, because how stupid were the rest of the group to fall for it? Unless they did know? Were they humouring whoever had planted the fake? No, that made no sense. Too much valuable information was shared with it in the room with them. Itachi wouldn't do that if he knew the truth – he was too determined on protecting everyone.

"It's not impossible to fool someone like Uchiha Itachi," her shishou warned her quietly, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on her bicep once her arms were folded. Together, they watched Naruto explaining to the mother what was happening, telling her they had a name for what was wrong with the boy now. "Difficult, yes. But not impossible. All you would have to do is distract his mind with a bigger problem."

With her. It was clear Itachi was shouldering the problems of everything and everyone, refusing to burden anyone else with the issues. Damn it, Danzo had planned it all, hadn't he? By allowing Itachi to rescue her, his rat went unnoticed. The changes in Naruto's appearance and personality, due to the stress of everything else, didn't occur to him.

"You need to get rid of him," ordered Tsunade.

How in the hell was she supposed to do that? She didn't have access to her chakra. Why did her shishou keep ordering her to do stuff, when it was so blatantly obvious she wasn't physically able to do any of it? Without her chakra, without her strength, she was nothing. Even a fake Naruto was more than enough to take her out. Sakura didn't even want to consider how she would stand against Sasuke. He was the kind of guy who was usually a step ahead, although acted as though he was several steps ahead. However…

If she managed to move faster than him, she would reach the medical cabinet first. She could get to the scalpels. Once she had a weapon, he would be wary. He would keep his distance unless he was also armed.

"Sakura," he warned her, voice low to the point of silence, forcing her to read his lips. "Don't."

Don't what? Protect Itachi and everyone else from the mole Danzo had planted amongst them? Stop the fake Naruto from sharing information that could get them all killed? Why couldn't any of them see it? The changes were too great. Too obvious. Unless…

Maybe Itachi did know? Maybe, in some twisted way of – no. He wouldn't put hundreds at risk in such a selfish way. Itachi wasn't selfish. The man in her memories was kind and compassionate, he was gentle. Danzo was taking advantage of Itachi's bonds, dangling her in front of him like he was baiting a starved animal. He knew Itachi would cause him a great amount of damage – he was a troubling opponent to face. Using her against him, he blinded her friend to the dangers lurking around the corner. He was distracting him, baiting him, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"We will bring him home," he assured her, hands gentle as they held her, allowing her to weep in his arms without judgement. "But first, we will continue to grow stronger. Then, once Orochimaru and Sasuke reveal themselves, we will strike. Together."

He was always being weighed down by something. There was always something he had to take care of. Whether it was his brother's treason, his best friend's disappearance and blinding, or her abduction.

"Danzo knows he can get to them through you," Tsunade murmured. "Itachi, Shisui and even Sasuke. If he has you, he has them."

Danzo was a man who exploited weaknesses. He manipulated and butchered the minds of others. He did whatever was necessary – no matter how unethical – for his personal gain.

Reluctance flashed through Sasuke's eyes, the sight almost enough to make her stop. Almost. Ducking beneath his suddenly outstretched hand, she barely evaded his grasp, sucking in a sharp breath as the signs of chakra depletion made themselves known immediately, trying to stop her battered body from being further pushed to the limits.

Before she could yank the doors to the medical cabinet open, a hand was wrapping around her throat and they moved much too fast for her to keep track of. All she could tell, was that they were no longer in the medical room. They were somewhere smaller, darker. They were alone. Her back was against the wall, breath trapped in her lungs as Sasuke loomed over her, his body pressed against hers and ceasing all movements, refusing to let her so much as twitch. She could feel the hard muscles of his body with every breath he took, his panting giving her a moment to assess his features as he fought hard to calm himself.

It stunned her once she figured out there wasn't much pressure on her throat, his hand tilting her head back more than trying to choke the life out of her.

She couldn't do it.

Standing behind the boy she loved, she trembled, the poisoned kunai in her grasp useless as she struggled to gain composure, to complete her personal mission. It was necessary. For the sake of their village and for the sake of saving the once innocent boy she'd watched from across the classroom.

But she couldn't do it. She loved him too much. More than she should. More than he deserved.

He spun the second he sensed her hesitation, hand closing around her throat and kunai yanked from her hold, eyes wide with betrayal and hatred.

Why?

Helpless. She was so helpless as she stared up into his dark eyes, vision growing blurred as tears slipped soundlessly down her cheeks. The ache in her heart – it felt familiar. Old, dull, but strong enough to break her should she let it. But… The strangest part, she realised, was that it didn't feel like her pain. It felt like she was in tune with another, experiencing upset because of their heartbreak. It was like there was a part of her – the old Sakura, perhaps – who still loved him unconditionally, who continued to war with herself, who wanted nothing more than to have him come home willingly. Not because they wanted him to, but because he wanted it.

Did she feel anything towards him? Sakura wasn't entirely sure. She couldn't say yes, but she couldn't say no either. He felt familiar. The heartbreak he never failed to deliver felt familiar. Was her old self really that used to being abused by him? Did she really let him walk all over her heart, time and time again, simply because she was too in love with him? More in love than what was good for anyone?

"Stop," he ordered, finally catching his breath. "They'll only give you so many chances."

He said it like he was talking from experience and Sakura felt herself relaxing as his hand slipped away from her throat, fingertips grazing her arm when it fell away. Despite releasing her, he didn't step away, his chest continuing to press against hers with each breath.

"Why?"

Why did she feel so helpless around him? Why wouldn't he let her get rid of the rat? Why was he trying to help her? Why was he helping the fake Naruto?

Why did he leave me?

The question was not her own, though was added to her thoughts like it was. The vulnerability in the words, the feelings they evoked, were something Sakura found she couldn't understand. Was that what love was? Allowing someone to hurt you? Running back to them like a scared child desperate to feel loved?

"We won't speak of this," Sasuke stated, voice cold as he took a step back. "If they find out what happened just now, Itachi will have no choice but to act. For the safety of everyone else." Weakly, she could only nod. "Go to Itachi. If you know what's good for you, don't leave his side."

Walking away from him felt wrong. While she wanted nothing more than to get out there, part of her screamed to go back. Why? She had no idea. What was there to gain from staying by Sasuke's side? Nothing. She would gain nothing. Only suffer more.

Despite the strange aching of her heart, Sakura did not turn back.

A/N - Sorry for the delay in updates - I had no choice but to go back to work and got really sick again. This time, with both hyperemesis and my mental health, since I've been so drained by the sickness. On a brighter note, we're keeping down food again and have been for the past week and a half (probably more than I should be eating, but who cares?), I'm off work again because of the constant back and forth between my panic attacks and hyperemesis (one triggers the other now, apparently) and in a couple of weeks, it's my engagement party. Hopefully, I'll be up for it. Our families have taken charge of it all, so all I really need to do is be well on the night.

With this break from work, I'm hoping to be able to write more, so fingers crossed.