Chapter Fourteen
These nights we wonder how we ever survive
An awful feeling had settled over Sakura. It lingered for two days. Left a bad taste in her mouth and a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like a stone in wet sand constantly being pushed further into the muck by crashing waves.
Out of all the horrible, unspeakable things Sakura had done in her life, this was by far the worst. She was already in this lifestyle too deep to ever be out, but Ino...Ino had walked right in and Sakura had just held the door open for her. No warning or words of caution.
That sickening feeling was still there as Sakura approached the rendezvous point. She turned into the parking lot and killed the engine but made no move to get out. Like her body was too bogged down with the weight of what she had done to move. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, an uneven breath passing between her lips.
When she opened her eyes, she swallowed those emotions down before she flipped the sun visor down and peered into the mirror. She fixed her eyeliner and smoothed her fingers through her hair. With her game face on, Sakura slipped out of the car.
The bar wasn't the grittiest establishment she had ever stepped foot inside of, but it still left much to be desired. The carpet was faded and wearing thin in some places, the dry leather on the stools cracked and peeling. The room itself was a simple rectangle, easy to see every corner of the bar. Not that it mattered. The bar was tucked into a neighborhood deep in the heart of Long Island. Far away from Hashirama or Madara's men.
Sakura slid into a booth next to Itachi. He looked up from the single-sided drink menu to glance at her. He didn't ask why she had chosen to sit beside him when there was plenty of room on the bench across the table. Like he had expected nothing less.
This close, she could smell the pleasant bite of his cologne, feel his body heat through his dark blue hoodie. In the dim lighting it was almost black.
"You look tired," Sakura said. Noting the light shadows under his eyes, the faint look of exhaustion etched into his expression.
Itachi studied her in return. "As do you."
Perhaps she did. She hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, but she let none of this show now as she smiled. Just a playful, little quirk of her lips. "Well I hope you've been getting into less trouble than I have."
He stared at her. Only to recognize the teasing glint in her eyes a moment later. He shot her a look of faint amusement but said nothing as one of the wait staff swung by to collect their drink orders. Sakura went with a cosmopolitan, Itachi a glass of house chardonnay.
As soon as the woman was gone, Itachi shifted in the booth until he faced her more fully. The space between them somehow suddenly more intimate and private. As if they were on a first date rather than discussing classified information.
"Shisui was able to trace the tracking device you provided me," he said.
Her playfulness faded to be replaced by a half-curious, half-surprised look. Perhaps Shisui was smarter than his boyish grins and cheesy flirting. "And?" she pressed.
"The device came back to an apartment in Brooklyn," Itachi told her. "It had long since been abandoned when we got there, likely by a few months. My guess is Madara cleared out once he had assumed you had found the device."
"Did you find anything?" she asked.
He frowned. "Not much. There weren't any electronics and most of the documents had been shredded, but we did find some handwritten notes."
He trailed off when the server returned with their drinks. The middle-aged woman placed both glasses on the table and told them to let her know if they needed anything else before she made her way to the table a few booths down where another couple had settled in.
Itachi examined the pale gold wine in his glass before he sipped it and continued where he had left off. "It seems Madara had set up surveillance on a number of people. Not just yourself."
"Who?"
"His suppliers for the most part," he told her. "Though he did have a large file on Hashirama and his younger brother, Tobirama."
Sakura's glass stilled halfway to her mouth as her curiosity piqued. "What kind of information?"
"Mostly their movements, but Madara did keep a record of all the payments he sent and received from Hashirama," Itachi said. "Just over thirty million US dollars over the course of the last four years."
"That's around the time Madara turned traitor against the CIA," Sakura murmured before she raised her drink to her lips. At least that confirmed one theory.
"Yes," Itachi agreed. "But the payments he received from Hashirama didn't start until about eight months ago."
Sakura gave pause. That was around the time she offered her services to Hashirama. A coincidence or perhaps a correlation she didn't yet understand?
Lowering her glass, Sakura focused on Itachi again. He was still watching her. Not with that penetrating gaze he used when he was looking for answers. But rather something calmer, like he was patiently waiting for her input.
She didn't really know what to tell him. Not until she learned what those payments were for. And even then, she may keep that information to herself depending upon what the answer was.
"Any idea what those payments are for?" she ventured.
Unsurprisingly Itachi shook his head. "No, I was hoping you might. Madara began shuffling his men around the same time. His trips to Hong Kong picked up then too."
"Sounds like he's moving shipments for something."
"That's what we thought too," he agreed. "We have a team attempting to track his movements overseas but they haven't had much luck yet. But it's only been a few days."
The pair fell silent after that. Each sipping their drinks. Sakura rolled that information over in her head for a while. Considered everything Itachi had just told her. She was somewhat surprised he had told her as much as he had. Or perhaps there was more he had simply left out.
A drunk couple walked by while Sakura considered this. She gazed at them absently, watching the man's hand slip down the woman's waist, her giggles trailing behind her. The other patrons of the bar kept to themselves. No wondering eyes or familiar faces. Even the young couple that slipped into the table one booth down sat side-by-side, their heads bent together.
Sakura returned her focus to Itachi after she finished her drink. She was surprised to find he was already watching her. Those dark eyes reserved yet so observant. Had she still been fifteen, it would have left her a little unnerved being the object of such focus.
"Do you have any leads on Madara's whereabouts now?" Sakura asked softly, ensuring her voice didn't drift to the booth beside them.
"A couple," Itachi said quietly, pushing his empty wine glass aside. He rested his elbow on the table, his cheek against his knuckles. "His condo in Brooklyn indicated he may have a few more safe houses and businesses he operates under using false pretenses. Some in Manhattan, a couple on Staten Island. Even one in Newark."
Her attention sharpened at that. "Newark?" she repeated.
He nodded. "At the port. My company has some men heading there to follow a lead-"
"Pull them out," Sakura said, her voice still quiet but her tone suddenly hard and all business.
Enough so that Itachi gave pause. He fixed her with a penetrating stare, his curiosity nearly palpable. "What do you know?" he asked.
"Only that if you don't, they will be killed."
"By Madara?"
Sakura met his eyes unwavering. "Pull your men out, Itachi."
He just stared back. For a moment, she wondered if he wouldn't listen. Wondered if Tobirama's raid was about to go up in flames right before her very eyes. But then Itachi sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing. My company won't be happy," he told her quietly.
"I always know what I'm doing."
Itachi said nothing to that. Only after he had pulled out his phone and typed the message did she silently release the heavy breath deep in her lungs.
They ordered a second round when the waitress stopped by and didn't speak again until both their glasses were almost empty.
Itachi was the first to break the silence. "I suppose I should thank you."
Sakura turned her head to look at him, genuine curious. "For what?"
"For the information you provided me on Madara."
Sakura looked away again with a shrug. Not quite sure what that feeling in the pit of her stomach was. Instead, she watched the last few drops of her drink move as she swirled it around the bottom of her martini glass. "A deal's a deal," she said before she drained her drink.
"Well thank you regardless," he murmured.
There was a small, barely visible smile in the corner of his mouth when she looked at him. Those stress lines seemed to fade slightly, making him appear younger. For some reason that look made her twisting tension lessen.
She turned on the bench until she was fully facing him, as if they were lovers sharing a quiet moment. "Don't thank me yet. I may still get you killed in the end," she said with quiet, dry humor.
Itachi canted his head, less intimidated and more curious. For a moment, he said nothing as he searched her face. He must have not found what he was looking for for he asked, "Why do you do that?"
She didn't have to ask to know what he was asking. Instead she leaned closer. Until her chest nearly brushed his with every inhale. Their faces so close she could smell the wine on his breath, see the flecks of deep brown in his dark irises.
"Because you're hard to read, Agent Uchiha, and I want to know what you're thinking," she whispered. Then she smiled. "Plus you're nice to look at."
Real surprise flickered across his face. "Are you flirting with me?"
"Would you be so opposed to it?"
That look faded to be replaced with something less amused. "Now you're messing with me."
Sakura couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps," she smirked, leaning back. Neither confirming nor denying.
They parted ways after that, each paying for their own drinks. Sakura drove her rental car back towards Manhattan, each streetlight flashing by faster than the next. It filled the interior of the car before fading black again. The highway seemed to stretch on forever into the distant horizon.
Sakura wasn't exactly sure how much time passed before her phone went off. Ino's name flashed across the screen.
"Naruto and I finished the normal rounds," Ino told her. "Everything went smooth. Except for Kabuto. Who wouldn't stop bitching his shipment was late."
That sounded like Kabuto.
"Did you remind him that his last payment was late?" Sakura asked. She checked her blind spot before she switched lanes to steer around a slower moving vehicle.
"Naruto did. And he also reminded him what would happen should his next payment be late."
"And?"
"And Kabuto shut up pretty quick after that," Ino said, her voice light with faint humor.
The corner of Sakura's mouth twitched in response but it fell away quickly. "Is Shikamaru in town?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Uh, yeah. What's up?"
Sakura didn't immediately answer. She replayed part of her conversation with Itachi over in her head, recalling the information he had told her. Considering how much she wanted to tell Ino. "Can you have him dig into Madara's financial history? Hashirama began sending him payments about eight months ago. I want to know why."
"Hashirama?" Ino repeated. "How much money are we talking?"
"Not sure. But it's not so much the amount I'm interested in, but rather what Madara is doing for Hashirama that I'm curious about."
Through the phone, the blonde hummed thoughtfully. "Their transactions were probably all done under the table, but I'll have Shika look and see if he can dig up anything. Anything else?"
"No, that's it," Sakura said. "Go home for the night. I'll talk to you in the morning."
They hung up after that. Sakura drove the rest of the way in silence, not even bothering with the radio. Knew it wouldn't distract from that heavy, knotted lump that had returned. She peered out the window to gaze up at the black sky. Searching for those twinkling stars. The ones that looked so familiar in her Israeli sky. None were visible behind those dark clouds.
Her mood still hadn't improved when she arrived back into the heart of the city. It was late but most of the bars were still open, even on a Tuesday. She drove to one she had frequented a couple of times and sat in the corner. There, even the sweetest lemon drop couldn't chase away the sour taste in her mouth.
xx
The sun was approaching the horizon when Sakura slipped into the condo. She dropped her boots into the entrance hall, shushing them when they hit the floor louder than she had expected, before she wandered down the hall. Her feet guided her through the familiar floor plan until she arrived at the bedroom. In the doorway, she paused to trace the shadowed outline of the figure twisted under the sheets.
Tobirama slept soundly, his breathing deep and even. Only to jerk awake when she crawled on top of him.
Instinctually he grabbed her, his hands gripping her arms with bruising strength. When she didn't fight back, he stilled, not quite fully awake yet. "Sakura?" he rasped, just barely recognizing her in the dark. "It's five in the morning. What're you doing here?"
Her hands caressed his cheeks, feeling his rough stubble against her palms. "What I always do here," she murmured so softly her voice was almost sweet.
Tobirama stared at her through the darkness but didn't push her away when she pressed herself closer. Her body molded to his through the sheet as she slanted her mouth against his. Her hands snuck under his shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to pull the material over his head before she returned to him.
Sakura's movements were unhurried but neither did she linger. She pulled each article of clothing off one at a time. First his shirt then his sweats and finally his boxers before she wrapped her fingers around his hardening length. Tobirama was quick to respond in kind. His hands on her hips and his mouth against her skin. Her breathy sighs and soft moans softened the piercing silence.
In the darkness, he was all she felt. Exactly as she had planned. Here, it was only them. The rest of the world so far away.
When Tobirama finally slipped inside her, she couldn't even feel that hollowness in her chest. She clung to him, savoring that feeling. That everything was alright. At least just for a little while.
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Sakura buried her face into Tobirama's neck. Dug her nails into his back. Anchoring him there and refusing to let go. His hips continued to move against hers, filling that aching emptiness over and over again until her head swam and her body tensed.
Sakura came with a muffled cry, her nails sinking into his skin. Tobirama followed some minutes later, his hips slowing to a stop. His shaking breath rattling in her ear.
For a few minutes, he didn't move. Then he withdrew and left to toss the condom. And with his absence the void returned. Stretching wider than before. Until all she felt was that echoing emptiness. Soulless.
Sakura was already gone when he returned to the bedroom. Not a trace she had ever been there except for the disheveled sheets and the faint click of the front door as it shut behind her.
xx
Kakashi found Sakura sometime later on the roof of her building. Even bundled up, the icy winds chilled her. Her fingers were stiff even deep in her pockets and her cheeks burned as they lost feeling. When the wind paused, she could see her breath as it escaped between her lips in little, white wisps. As if her very soul was leaving her body one exhale at a time.
The subtle click of the metal door had her picking her head up. She didn't react as she recognized Kakashi. Only watched bleary-eyed as he crossed the rooftop, the snow muffling his footsteps. He was just as wrapped up as her in a dark green winter coat and grey scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth.
He stopped beside her, gazing out into the pale sea of twinkling, city lights before turning to look at her. "A little late to be out in the cold, isn't it?" he asked pleasantly.
Sakura raised her eyes to look up at him but she found no judgement on his face. Only patience.
Unable to stand that look, she turned her face away and exhaled shakily. "I'm the worst person in the world."
Kakashi chuckled faintly. "I sincerely doubt that."
When she didn't reply, he wiped the snow off the chair beside her before he settled into it. He didn't ask. Simply waited for her to find her voice.
Sakura was quiet for some minutes. "I should have said no," she said so lowly, her voice was nearly swept away by the wind. "What kind of friend am I?"
Kakashi didn't have to ask to know what she was referring to. "You only gave Ino what she asked for," he said not unkindly.
"She didn't know any better," she countered darkly. "She doesn't know what she asked for."
"That doesn't make you a bad person, Sakura," he told her quietly.
She didn't offer him a reply to that. Only scoffed as if he had said the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
Kakashi pursed his lips. He studied her for a long while before finally asking, "Do you remember the day we met?"
His question was so out of the blue that Sakura found herself looking at him again, wondering what had prompted such a question. Of course she remembered. Like she could ever forget.
Back then, every criminal throughout the Middle East had known Sakura. Twenty-one years old, she had been the most powerful woman in the desert. But not because of her name or even her trade. But because of Gaara.
xx
Sakura looked up when Gaara ended his phone call. Across the room, he looked proper, almost kingly in the plush, high-backed chair. The red leather matched the fiery highlights in his hair. There was a distant look on his face, the one he normally wore when he was considering something, but his expression was otherwise blank. A porcelain mask.
"What is it?" Sakura eventually asked in fluent Arabic.
Gaara blinked before he focused on her. "My men have something for me."
"Now?"
She cocked her brow curiously, but he didn't offer her a reply. Merely raised his hand. A silent beckon for her to come closer.
Without delay, she pushed herself up from her chair, the rifle she had been disassembling left on the table. She crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the Mosaic tiles. He held his hand out towards her when she drew closer before he guided her onto his lap.
A smile crossed Sakura's face when he ran his knuckles over the curve of her cheekbone. Those very knuckles that had beat a man to death only a few days earlier. The scabs of those healing sores scraped against her skin, but she only leaned into his touch. Enjoying those few moments when Gaara's raging temper lay dormant.
"I promised you dinner for your birthday. I intend to carry out that promise." His voice was gentle, but there was a hidden steeliness that cautioned her not to doubt him.
Sakura's smile widened. "I look forward to it."
The warning in his gaze faded then, his building agitation falling back into its deep slumber. "I need to see what they have. Come with me."
It wasn't a request but she nodded regardless. He kissed her briefly before he left to call for the car. With his back turned, he didn't see how quickly her smile fell.
They headed out into the desert after Sakura laced up her boots and pulled on a headscarf. Not that she needed to wear one. It was more comfort and convenience to hide her colorful locks in a city that was already so monotone. As a woman on Gaara's arm, she already drew enough attention.
The dusty road bumped along below them as his driver took them east. Outside, the touristy resorts of Port Said faded into the sand-colored buildings before stretching out into the miles of dry desert. Sakura sat quietly beside Gaara until the buildings eventually began to pop back up along the horizon. Barely noticeable against the dull backdrop.
In the heart of Al Arish, the car stopped down a side street, barely wide enough for them to fit through. Two of Gaara's men met them, one opening the door for him, another for her. Sakura walked a pace behind Gaara as his man filled him in in rushed Arabic.
American, military, operation. Spy.
Those were the only words Sakura caught before they slipped inside a backdoor of an unmarked building. It was cooler inside but without any air conditioning, the heat still clung to her skin. Gaara's men led them down into the basement. There, Sakura understood what some of those words meant.
In the center of the room was a man. Bloody and beaten black and blue. He was bound to a wooden chair, the restraint tying his hands behind his back likely the only thing keeping him upright. His clothes were dusty and stained almost beyond recognition. Almost.
United States Marines.
Her brow furrowed when she placed the uniform. Similar in design to other American military units, but different in color. With Al Arish this close to the Israeli border, it wasn't unusual to see American troops in the border cities only a few miles from here, but not Marines. What would they be doing here?
Sakura remained quiet as Gaara stepped towards the beaten man. With his face downcast, she didn't even know if he was still conscious or not.
"It's unusual to see American Army this far from the border," Gaara said in English, his accent thick. "What purpose have you here?"
Sakura didn't correct Gaara. Simply watched on to see what would happen next.
When the man remained silent, Gaara flicked his eyes to one of the guards. He stepped forward and grasped a handful of dirty, silver hair before he hauled the Marine's face up. Sakura was somewhat surprised to see he was in fact awake. Especially considered how swollen the left side of his face was. There was a mask over his nose and mouth, the majority of it dark with blood.
"Answer me," Gaara said. His tone was almost nonchalant, but she heard the hint of steel in his tone. A promise of worse things to come should his order be ignored.
Sakura didn't know if the Marine was more brave or stupid when he remained silent, his expression almost bored.
In an instant, Gaara reeled his fist back. Blood splattered across the sand, the healing scabs on his knuckles splitting open. The Marine didn't make a noise, merely took the hit before he raised his face to meet Gaara's gaze again. Even from where Sakura stood, she could see the fresh blood that seeped into his mask from his nose.
The interrogation continued this way for a while longer. With Gaara asking what the American was doing snooping around his territory and the Marine never once speaking a word. He just continued to take blow after blow.
Sakura remained a silent shadow. She watched on with an air of indifference, half-paying attention as she examined her nails. When it became too hot, she removed her headscarf and ran her fingers through her hair, inspecting the ends as she listened to Gaara question the bloodied man.
Not that she would ever admit it, but she did pity the man. She didn't know if he had just been caught in the wrong situation or had orders to be there from a higher ranking official halfway across the world, but either way, she felt some empathy for the American. It was after all her birthplace.
When it was clear Gaara wasn't going to get a word out of him, he kicked the bloody man to the floor before he made his way back upstairs. Sakura followed without question, looking back once. She met the Marine's steely gaze briefly as the guards hauled him upright before she turned back around.
It wasn't until they were back upstairs that Sakura learned why Gaara hadn't just killed him. "Keep questioning him until you get answers," Gaara ordered one of his men. "Americans do not snoop around without reason. They're up to something."
The man nodded before he bounded downstairs again. Alone, Sakura reached for Gaara's hand. He pushed her away immediately, nearly shaking in rage.
"You're bleeding," Sakura said needlessly. But her tone was light and placating. A quiet urge for him to calm down. There was very little that could be done once his temper spilled out.
He just turned away from her to gaze out the window. The sun was already dropping low as the afternoon stretched on. Gaara remained quiet for a long time. His rage palpable in the air. An anger she could empathize with.
Gaara had grown from nothing. He had been an orphan like her, abandoned in the streets until someone had taken him in. Everything he had, he had worked for. And now that was being threatened by an American Military presence. He wanted to tear it down before it could become a problem.
When Gaara finally turned back to her, he had reigned in his anger again. Sakura remained still as he approached, his footsteps light and muffled against the clay floors. With his uninjured hand, he ran his knuckles along her cheekbone again. That softened look he saved solely for her soothing the hard edges of his face.
"I apologize," he said so sincerely his voice was nearly a whisper. "We are going to have to postpone our celebration. I promise I will make it up to you."
Sakura smiled sweetly. "It's okay," she told him, briefly leaning into his touch.
"Head back to Port Said," Gaara said, dropping his hand. Suddenly all business. "Check in with your contacts. I want to know if anyone has seen or heard of any Americans snooping around the market."
Nodding, she met Gaara's driver outside and had him begin the long trek back to Port Said.
As it turned out, none of Sakura's contacts knew anything about any Americans. However, one had overheard a man matching the Marine's description asking around for information regarding a large shipment of arms out of Egypt. Wondering details and who had ordered it.
Sakura sat on that information for three hours. She tried not to think of the beaten military man in that town so far out in the desert. Tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted as she recalled the how he had looked when she glanced over her shoulder. There was no way he hadn't been in pain. Instead, she passed the time in a dusty bar, vaguely listening to the black market gossip. Trying not to let her mind wander.
In the end, it still had.
Sakura considered her next moves carefully. Because she didn't want the Marines to take down the primary port used to smuggle guns out of the country. But she also didn't want to be responsible for the burden of knowingly letting a man die. A man who likely was only there on orders. Disposable to his government.
Plus, with Gaara out of the way, she would be able to regain control of the region. Which was really her only reason for returning to the Middle East in the first place.
That night, when she was sure Gaara was gone, Sakura returned to Al Arish. The Marine was still there with two of Gaara's men guarding him on either side. The room lit only by a single light bulb screwed into the ceiling. It flickered every few minutes.
Sakura smiled at the guards as she descended into the room. "Evening, boys," she greeted.
They nodded respectfully back. Because while she was a woman, they had seen her beat a man within an inch of his life while Gaara looked on. And she had done so with a smile. They seemed to remember this when she nodded towards the man tied to the chair.
"Do you mind giving us the room?" Sakura asked with a pretty smile. "Gaara has just a few more questions for our guest."
If either of them found her request odd, neither of them spoke of it. They shot the bound man one last look, ensuring he wasn't in any condition to give her trouble before they headed upstairs. Leaving Sakura alone with her silent Marine.
They eyed one another. She noted that his left eye had swelled almost completely shut, the hair on the same side was caked with blood. He was tougher than most of the men she had come across. Physically anyway. If he was able to withstand two beatings back-to-back. Possibly three.
"No American troops are allowed in Egyptian cities, other than those on the Israeli border," Sakura said in perfect English. "Why are you here?"
If he was surprised by either her lack of an accent or the fact she was aware of his branch of military, he didn't show it. He merely continued to stare at her.
On the table near the wall was two water bottles. Sakura grabbed one and twisted the cap off. She took a sip before she approached the Marine to pull his mask down. Unsurprisingly, his face was heavily bruised and crusted with crimson. The cut in his lower lip had stopped bleeding but his nose continued to drip slowly.
Pressing the bottle to his mouth, Sakura tipped it up until he could drink. Only once he had sucked down half of the water did she lowered it again. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, leaving the bottle on the floor between her boots.
"You have a name, Marine?" she asked.
When he just looked at her, she bit back her sigh. "Listen, you can keep being a shit or you can let me help you," Sakura told him. "If you're here for Gaara, I want to help."
The man seemed to look her over again, slowly observing her. "Why would you do that?" he asked eventually. His voice was rough and scratchy.
Sakura raised the water to his lips again. Let him drink a few more mouthfuls before she pulled it away.
"Do you want my help or not?" she asked, her ultimatum clear.
It was an easy question.
Pulling a knife from her pocket, Sakura cut the ties binding his hands until all that remained was a thin strand. Thin enough that he would only need to flex his hands to break it. Then she slipped the knife into his palm.
"The guard change is in an hour. They leave the keys in the ignition," she told him. "Get yourself out of here. And finish your mission."
Sakura had every intention of leaving after that, confident that he was smart enough to figure the rest out of his own. Only to stop when the Marine spoke again, "Kakashi."
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she looked over her shoulder back at him. Even through all the blood and swelling, she saw his smirk. The barest of smiles flashed across her face. "Tsunade."
Then she was up the stairs and out the door.
It would be another two weeks before she saw Kakashi again. The same night Gaara had learned of her betrayal. Sakura still didn't know if Kakashi had been watching her or Gaara. Only knew that he had been the first one to burst through the door after her gun went off.
Covered in blood and brain matter, and with the red marks from Gaara's fingers around her neck, Kakashi had stood in the doorway in that backroom of that gritty bar. He took one look at the gun in her hand and Gaara's lifeless body before his gaze finally fell to her.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
Hiding how much she was actually trembling, Sakura shook her head.
That was all the conversation they had time for before sirens filled the night. He didn't give her any time to think. Just simply grabbed her and together they snuck out into the night before law enforcement arrived.
xx
Of course, it was still another three months before their relationship had begun on the path that it was now, but it was in those dusty backrooms where they had first met.
Back on the rooftop, Sakura eyed Kakashi curiously. "Of course I remember how we met. What does that matter?"
He just smiled at her. "It matters because out of everything you have ever done, Sakura, to your core, you are not a bad person."
to be continued...
Thank you for your patience for this chapter. The reviews really motivated me when I really didn't have much energy to spare, so to those who left a comment, know that I really do appreciate it! (Again, please ignore all errors.)
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