I know I published this as "complete", but I had more to say. I'm probably going to leave it as "complete", just because I have a tendency to finish but not really finish what I want to write. Feel free to subscribe to alerts. I'll let you know when I officially finish.

He wasn't himself. But who was she to tell? She knew everything and nothing about him.

He had come into the hospital (again) and asked her (again) to relieve the cuts and bruises he had gotten from training (again) with Naruto. And even though she was exhausted, chakra-depleted, occupied with the stresses of top medical ninjas, she led him into her office. Again.

And now all she could think about was the feel of his skin under her fingers, somehow smooth and rough at the same time, the small scrapes and marks fading away as she touched them.

He was quiet, and she could feel his dark eyes on her, but this was typical Sasuke behavior. Watchful, silent, always lost in his own mind, his own heart, watching his own clouds. She wondered what currently held his attention.

He came in frequently, and always went straight to her. She wanted to be flattered, to think that out of the entire hospital, he trusted her alone with his injuries, his weaknesses. But she knew better. It was simply a matter of convenience. He was her top priority, and he always would be, and she knew he knew that. Simple.

She didn't know how to feel about his visits. Her feelings for him had grown so deep, rooted into her heart permanently; she didn't know how to contain them. She loved to see him, just to be near him, just to have a small part of his time that he wouldn't give to anyone else. She treasured it. But she knew that when he did eventually leave, when his skin was perfect once more and all traces of pain washed away from his bones, that she would be filled with a terrible emptiness, and she hated that feeling.

A shiver shook her as she worked, and suddenly Sasuke's gaze on her seemed to intensify. Had she angered him? Accidentally hurt him? Her eyes flitted up to meet his.

No, same sharp Sasuke face, same blue-black hair hanging in his eyes, same lips pressed into the tight line he usually displayed. She wished so desperately that she could read him, know his thoughts just from his eyes or his face, reach a part of him she never had been able to. As a girl, she thought she had the ability to know every thought he had, because surely she knew more about him than anyone else. Such a foolish child.

It hurt her to hold his gaze. His angular features and disheveled hair and eyes that always seemed to be swirling caught her breath in her throat and made her chest feel hollow. She made to break the contact, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow off, and then he smiled at her.

It wasn't deep, it wasn't full, it wasn't something that completely shocked her. Just a small, contented smile, one corner of his mouth higher than the other (has his smile always been crooked?) and she had to fight the urge to stare.

"Thank you."

Even though those words from his lips still sent that spike of pain through her heart, she smiled back, full and wide and ridiculously happy.

"You're welcome."

His smile turned into that traditional Sasuke smirk, because he had once again caused her to act like Sakura, but she didn't mind. He stood to leave.

"See you tomorrow."

And for the first time upon his departure, she felt warm and full and unable to wipe that stupid smile from her face. But that was okay, it was all okay.

She'd learned something new about the boy she knew everything about.