Sasuke leant back against the wall, appraising her. Could Sakura really do it? He knew that Tsunade's abilities easily outstripped Kabuto's – he'd heard about how Orochimaru had sought her help to revive one of his older vessels – and if Sasuke himself had bested Orochimaru, then it stood to reason that Sakura must be at least Tsunade's level if not beyond. No, it wasn't that he questioned her technical skill. It was more that he had just never thought about how it would work – if Itachi had actually plucked his eyes out back then, what would he have done with them? Shove them haphazardly into his own skull? Hn! Not likely. Itachi may have been an unprecedented genius, but his skills hadn't tended in that direction. Perhaps Madara had a way….
Sasuke's hand was growing cold from condensation as the jar warmed, hastening the impending demise of the eyes within.
This might be his only chance. Lately he had been mulling over the legend of Zatoichi, the blind wanderer who had made his living by giving massages and by playing the flute and, when the occasion required it, by the sword. There were more than a few similarities between him and Zatoichi, right down to the inverse sword grip. Even though he had come to the conclusion that he had seen all the world had to offer and could continue his nindo without sight, with Sakura's offer hope flared up within him, unbidden. He wouldn't go blind after all! It would mean becoming temporarily blind now, in a precarious situation with difficult mission objectives and dangerous battle variables. Eh. He'd had worse odds. Sasuke proffered Itachi's eyes to her: "Let's do this."
A brief smile tugged at the side of her mouth. His trust, his acknowledging her skill, heartened her. "Right. We'll need some place relatively secure," Sakura gave him a wry grin, "I'd rather not have to point you in the direction of danger to 'flame on'".
"That room I went into – it should be clear now," Sasuke offered, only slightly chagrinned.
They walked in silence, softly chuffing through the ashes. The building's expanse of sequestered emptiness was eerie and it hampered discussion. The room indeed was vacant and inside, a strangely bare workbench caught Sakura's eye immediately. She touched Sasuke's arm lightly, motioning for him to sit on the end of the table. He did so, wolfishly grinning and 'demurely' awaiting her further instructions. Sakura raised an eyebrow, mockly shocked at his audacity. For lack of a witty rejoinder, Sakura rifled in her mednin pouch. "Here" -- she tossed a roll of bandages at him -- "You can change your arm wraps while I prep."
A quirked smile lingered on her lips as she turned her attention to the spreading out the contents of her portable surgical kit. Still had nothing to spare for a hair tie, but at least in the privacy of this room she could work with her outershirt off. Working under Tsunade had enhanced her taste for uncumbersome clothing which is why she wore the split med-nin skirt rather than a dress like in her genin days.
Selecting a miniature flashlight she stood close before him; their encounter in the alcove giving her the confidence to stand between his legs. Using the examination as a pretense, she slowly ran a finger down his jawline to his chin, and held it, meeting his enigmatic gaze. His eyes held a cool stillness that drew her. Yet before she could decipher anything, Sasuke looked away, seeming vaguely uncomfortable under such close scrutiny. Sakura's heart went out to him; despite what he might think, he did hold up under scrutiny and was more than worthy. She'd take time to convince him of that now, but the eyes were waiting. "Look up" Sakura finally instructed, shining the flashlight in his eyes. "Look left….look right…look down…"
And Sasuke did, straight down Sakura's low-cut top. Her breasts looked so soft, gently rising…his hands would help that out…
She deflected his hands away and apart, mounting the table to pin him on his back with the weight of her body. Licking at one of his barely-still-bleeding paper cuts distracted him, buying her time to draw a couple small kunai to bluntly peg him down spreadeagle. She had meant to catch both hands, but he was quick and had moved so one kunai pierced his wrist. Blood seeped, pooling.
Sasuke scowled. Damn her! What kind of 'help' was this?! Was this sabotage like Tsunade had been about to render on Orochimaru? He couldn't afford to move carelessly and lose use of his hands . . . So much for noticing the difference between seduction and peril.
Then she was cheek-to-cheek with him, purring in his ear: "That's hot; but you need this surgery more than you need my body at the moment." She took up the flashlight again, casually remaining spread over his body. "Sharingan for me." Sasuke did so, eyes flashing with the irritation of one who recognizes reason but still chafes under it. "You'll fix the summoning seal on my wrist," Sasuke stated darkly, glaring at her as he dismissed worst-case scenarios from his mind. Sakura, finished her diagnosis, eased off of Sasuke's body, her fingers trailing his blood down his chest. "Yes. I'll heal all of you after…"
The surgery went smoothly, Sakura's skill more than up to the task. In short time she was issuing post-op directions: "It won't be long until you can see again; maybe five or ten minutes until you can have your basic sight back. I'd recommend waiting to use your sharingan for about half an hour though." To Sasuke's relief, Sakura finally removed the kunai pegging him in place. His hand was healed in a moment, as was the wrist, but reaffixing the seal was proving problematic. Somehow it wouldn't produce shuriken like the other wrist seal.
Sakura contemplated the seal; turning his wrists this way and that to catch the muted black sparkle in the pattern. "It doesn't seem to have a normal metal-based composition…Sasuke, that day in Orochimaru's lair when we saw you for the first time in years, we thought you might have done stimulants or some other drug; you were leagues ahead of us in skill, you were so fast…I consulted this book, The Effects of Medical Drugs, and--"
"No. If I didn't keep myself clean, then I risked losing my body to Orochimaru and my ambition for avenging. During those years I refused to allow Kabuto to even heal me; Karin did the seals for me."
Sakura frowned. If drugs hadn't altered the constituting composition of the seal, something Karin did must have. "These kinds of seal-tattoos that activate through the user's touch and chakra are rare . . ." Sakura fell silent, using Sasuke's hand to activate the undamaged wrist seal. A small pile of shuriken grew beside them on the table. Come to think of it, Karin's fortes seemed to have lain in those very areas of touch and chakra. Seeing Karin vehemently bite her own arm during battle had been unsettling – the strange apparent self-mutiliation turning into a refreshed opponent; the bite blood coagulating into another darkly permanent bite mark for the collection on her arm. Oh, that's it! Unlike healing chakra that goes through a ninja, hers must linger at the point of transfer, festering. So trying to repair the seal wasn't working because a pure seal can't be grafted onto one that had mutated; the solution would be to remove the remaining part of the seal and redo it entirely.
Sakura didn't set to work immediately, however. Another implication reared its ugly head – as long as the seals remained, Karin's festering chakra would as well. And if Karin's chakra was present – yes, Sakura could sense the whiff of it now that she was looking for it – then Karin could potentially track Sasuke. Perhaps that had something to do with Zetsu appearing unexpectedly as he did… "Sasuke, did Karin ever meet--" Sakura paused. Her eyes flicked to one side, almost her blind spot, toward the back door.
She whispered urgently: "Concentrate chakra in your feet and hands – I'm going to stick you on the ceiling while I deal with this." Sasuke, now also sensing the new ninja's approach, grabbed her arm: "I can fight -- I've trained blindfolded."
"So have I!" The words came out more vehemently than she expected. She hesitated; biting her lip. She wasn't like Naruto who could effortlessly convince people to stand down while he alone took care of the problem. He wasn't like Naruto who she could just run roughshod over. A repetitive muffled thudding arose at the door. Her whisper appeared in his ear: "Trust me." She cut off his retort by casting him upward.
The door creaked open and a key-shaped paper flier poked its head into the room. That was the confirmation Sakura needed before casting a pair of blossom bombs into the hall. Satisfaction at the smell of burning paper turned into consternation as the seconds ticked by but no counterattack followed. Did she dare leave the room? Konan could have set up a trap between the time Sakura sensed chakra and the barrage of paper darts blindly thudding at the door. Rushing headlong into battle was Naruto's favourite tactic, not hers. If she could pull Konan in the room, she'd have the advantage – Konan would face an unknown enemy in an enclosed space.
Sakura spun a rope of chakra threads and sent it snaking, connecting through the ashes of the chakra-sensitive paper, toward it's master's ankles. Sudden tension in the rope bespoke of success. Looks like Ino's trick from the Chuunin exams was coming in handy. Sakura used the door as a lever and shield as she pulled her quarry in. As expected, Konan braced herself against the doorframe. "Let go of me!" yelled Konan. Ha! Sakura thought – now that her hands are occupied, she won't be throwing jutsu in my face. One last hefty pull on the rope tore Konan from the door frame and into Sakura's waiting fist…to have Konan flutter apart at the last second – a paper substitution. Damn!
Konan appeared in the room behind her; Konan's paper darts whizzed, Sakura avoided them at first, but the flurry grew to a torrent, sliver-slicing while seeking to wallpaper her to the wall, a preface to a defeat. Her normal evasion speed wasn't cutting it. Sakura yanked open the buckles on her 'boots' and ripped off the tops, hucking them at Konan who dodged the clumsy attack with distain but was startled to hear them dash holes through the metal floor.
Sakura seized the advantage. Relieved of the weight, her speed matched her agility. Sakura lunged up at Konan; a direct up-close-and-personal attack against the long-range kuniochi.
Konan's defensive posture wasn't sufficient. Sakura crashed upon her; a body check that demolished Konan's block, twisting her, exposing her back. Sakura smirked. Too easy. Sakura's chakra-charged arms wove into a joint lock, secured at the base of each paper wing.
"Where's Pein fighting?" The question was a statement; as firmly spoken as Konan's wings were held.
"You're wasting your breath!"
Sakura knew as much. Even so, it was worth a quick try. Sakura's long-delayed mission meant that they didn't have time for an interrogation nor the resources to force Konan along as a hostage. Letting go of a wing gave Sakura a hand to reach in the mednin pouch and gave Konan an unfettered wing to swing backwards in efforts to bat Sakura off. But Sakura ducked, taking advantage of the exposed side to stab a vial of liquified atropa belladonna between two ribs. Konan's panicked thrashing by wing and arm worked the poison through faster. Sakura bobbed and weaved until the wings began to falter; the incapacitation was taking hold. Sakura jumped clear.
Sasuke had recovered his sight enough during the battle that he slipped down from the ceiling and stood away from the action until now, as he caught Konan before she hit the floor. Square paper feathers fluttered down around the pair.
Sakura looked Sasuke, confused and wary. If she hadn't cared if an opponent fell, why should he? Unless it was some sort of remnant of prior loyalties. . . Who's side are you on, Sasuke?
Sasuke let the moment draw out. Long enough to get his point across; not so long as to spur Sakura to action. That was sufficient. "Where would you like her?"
Sakura directed him to the vacant workbench and met his eyes as he placed Konan down; she got his point and it was fair – they didn't have to work as lone wolves anymore; they were on the same side: "Alright, no more stabbing you."
Sasuke was grateful that he didn't have to arduously explain himself. He reached across the table for Sakura's hand which paper darts had sliced a bit. He licked the exposed line of blood off her, keeping his mouth close to her skin as he flicked his eyes up at her: "Unless I ask you to". He smirked.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter was inspired by another of Nami86's brilliant drawings, "Her Revenge".
