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Sakura shifted to the side of her hospital bed, allowing her bare toes to skim across the surface of the cold floor. The dull ache in her chest sharpened as she tried to straighten her posture.
"Alright, Sakura. I need you to breathe into this spirometer slowly and deeply for a full minute," said Shizune.
While Sakura did her best to comply, Shizune loosened the ill-fitting mint-green gown from her shoulders and listened to the ragged breaths through her stethoscope.
"Sorry it's cold," Shizune murmured, as she applied the instrument to Sakura's back in several places.
Sakura's pain level was increasing with every deep breath and the seconds seemed to stretch out far beyond one minute.
"Ok, Sakura. Time for part two," said Shizune sympathetically as she removed the spirometer from Sakura's hands.
Sakura was very familiar with giving these exams to her own patients, but she was still not prepared for the searing pain she felt as she forced herself to cough several times. The stitches at her incision site strained, and she gripped her arms to her chest involuntarily.
Shizune listened carefully, and then placed a hand on her friend's delicate shoulder.
"Alright, that's good enough for now. You just rest," she said, giving Sakura an understanding smile.
Sakura wearily accepted Shizune's help back under the covers, and closed her eyes. She pressed the button on her pain pump a couple of times with the hope that the drugs and sleep would lessen her discomfort. Her thoughts swirled for a moment, "What if this doesn't work?"
Even after the success of the transplant, she knew her body could reject the organ. Tsunade had her on high doses of immunosuppressive medications to lower the risk of rejection, even though the side effects were damaging. With a feeling of despair, Sakura thought about her life. She had struggled so hard to make something of herself, in spite of her illness. She wanted to feel like she would be worthy of her parents, who had passed away when she was only 14. She would always be eternally grateful to Tsunade and her other colleagues at the hospital who had taken her under their collective wing and made her feel like she had a family, of sorts, again. But, no one had really known the isolation she felt each night when she went home to an empty house, when she couldn't catch her breath, when treatment after treatment failed as her condition worsened, when she faced the thought of dying.
"What was it all for?" she wondered as she drifted off.
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Itachi stood transfixed as he watched the patient through the glass. He couldn't see her face as her back was turned towards him, but he watched the rise and fall of her exposed shoulders as if in a trance.
He could tell she was in pain when her arms flew protectively to her chest when she began to cough. Itachi felt an ache in his own chest and a lump rise in his throat as her fragile form shuddered and then sank back into the bed.
"She is so beautiful," he thought. He hadn't expected that. He didn't think beauty could exist inside a hospital- this place of suffering and death. She felt miraculous to him, like a flower blossoming up through a crack in a dirty sidewalk. "And her hair!" The soft rose tresses that swept around her neck were so unusual. He wondered how it would feel to touch them.
"Itachi?" Tsunade's voice broke through his reverie. "I think we should head out now," she said with a small grin.
"Yes, of course," he replied, still a little lost in his thoughts.
As they made their way back toward the elevators, Itachi thought to ask, "Will she be ok? It seemed as if she was having some difficulty."
Tsunade appraised him for a moment, wondering just how honest she should be. She was a bit surprised at his interest, but she decided that he could handle it. After all, he had been the one who stood strong when his parents fell apart at the news of Sasuke's death.
"Well, to be honest, we can't be sure. The success of these procedures depends on many different factors. Sakura, um Dr. Haruno that is, has her youth going for her, and thankfully your brother's lungs were in good condition. The odds are good too, at least in the short-term. Around 80% of lung transplant recipients make it through the first year. But, in Dr. Haruno's case…" She left the words hanging in the air, unsure if it would be right to share any more.
Itachi waited, hoping that Tsunade would continue. He read the uncertainty in her eyes and wanted to reassure her. He spoke quietly, "I hope you can think of me as an ally in Dr. Haruno's recovery. It's important to me that she makes it, for Sasuke's sake. I want to be of help in any way I can."
Tsunade nodded and gave him half a smile. "It's just that Dr. Haruno has no real family and she has had such a difficult time with her health over the last few years. Of course we here at the hospital love her and will do everything possible for her medically, but sometimes I worry that she has lost the will to survive. She has been through so much."
"Ah." Itachi said almost to himself. "I understand then. Do you think it would be all right for me to introduce myself to her sometime? Maybe I can encourage her or help her. I can visit any day."
Tsunade thought for a moment before giving her reply. "I think it would be best if you didn't reveal the true reason for your interest in her case. It could make her feel uncomfortable or guilty, knowing that you want her to make it for your brother. It would be nice for her to have a friend though. Someone to cheer her up, you know? Itachi, would you be willing to join the hospital's Volunteer Service Corps? That way, you can visit Sakura easily without raising her suspicions."
Itachi raised an eyebrow at the thought. He was picturing himself wearing the typical red and white candy-striper uniform. "Um…" he replied uneasily, "Do I have to wear that?" inclining his head toward one of the volunteers who was pushing a cart full of books.
Tsunade's peals of laughter echoed through the hallway at the thought of nearly 6 foot tall Itachi wearing the ruffled apron. She gave Itachi a genuine grin and said, "Nah, I think we can find something better suited for you. When can you come by again?"
Itachi thought about the empty house he would be returning to and quickly said, "Tomorrow."
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