Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
There is a cold gleam in Sakura's eyes that Sasuke is uncomfortable with.
Her eyes have always been warmth, kind and everlasting, a smile permanently etched on her face. Sakura has always been that innocent, kind girl with the big heart and fierce protectiveness, her hands soft and gentle as she brushed away stray hairs from his face.
She has never been this—this—this cruel girl with the hard mouth and the clenched fists and blood splattered across her throat, congealing in the cold air.
Naruto is standing stock-still next to him and Sasuke knows the boy is terrified that the Hokage will take her away from them.
Behind them, Kakashi is also still, ancient gray eyes settling on both the bleeding woman in the chair and Sakura whose eyes flash with savage happiness once she sees blood seep through the thick bandages.
A shudder goes through him.
This is not the Sakura he wants to know.
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