Sparring really wasn't a good thing for me. As a medic nin, I'm more comfortable with dispelling harmful genjutsus and sucking out poison than throwing my fists around. Tsunade-sensei makes sure to teach me all sorts of things, not just medical ninjutsu, but seriously. Taijutsu is just not my forte. I'm slow as a slug, which is fitting in a way, looking at who my mentor is, and what scroll she had me sign. Sure, maybe I can crush rocks with just about any part of my body, but that doesn't exactly take a cheetah.

Lee never could understand this. After all, speed comes as naturally to him as breathing. There's no way that he would ever understand what it's like for a Slug-Princess like me to try to keep up with a Green Beast.

"I'm telling you, this is a lost cause, Lee-san," I said as I twisted mid-air to dodge one of his blows, though of course it still clipped my hip. As I landed, I used the ground to push off for a roundhouse kick to his head, though of course he dodged as easily as if my leg were a mosquito. "I'm just too slow."

"You're too hard on yourself," he replied as he grabbed my leg and used it to send me flying to the grass—somehow still managing to be gentle with me. "Try to remember who it is you're fighting," he continued as I tried to sweep him off his feet with a low kick to the ankles. He barely had to take a step to the side in order to dodge.

"Yeah, yeah, Rock Lee, the taijutsu specialist, the Genius of Hard Work. Spare me the details of your divinity, please." I somehow managed to get back to my feet in time to block a karate chop to the skull. But of course, being the taijutsu master that he was and is, he got around my block with his other arm and sent a crushing sideswipe to my ribs. We could both hear the sickening crunch as his arm sliced through the bone of one of my ribs, and I barely had time to see the horrified look on his face before I went flying to the side. I landed in an undignified heap, managing somehow to twist my poor wrist on impact.

"Sakura-san!" he shouted as he ran to my side. "Are you hurt? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you that hard! I'm really sorry! Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

His pathetic cries would probably never stop flying out of his poor mouth if I didn't make some attempt to move. So, cradling my broken rib with my un-mangled hand, I slowly started to crawl into a sitting position.

Lee-san was faster than me, as always, so he was there to help me into a sitting position. He was right behind me, in the perfect place to be used as a backrest in my woozy, wobbly state. He tensed up when I leaned my back up against his chest, but then again, he was probably tense long before he got to me. After all, he had just hurt me much worse than he had ever wanted to. (Then again, even if he had only managed to give me a paper cut, that would still be more than Lee-san would ever want.)

Not wanting to cause Lee-san any further brain-damage, and slightly annoyed by the flood of apologies that was pouring out of his mouth, I raised my hand and said, "Lee-san, please shut up. I'm perfectly fine. Just give me a chance to fix myself up, and we can keep going."

He would've further bombarded me with all degrees of sorry, but I leaned my head back so that it pressed into his throat. From this position, I could just barely look into his eyes. "I'm seriously not mad at you, Lee-san. Please stop apologizing. I need peace and quiet so I can concentrate."

This caused his jaw to snap closed with an audible click. He shook his head quickly, breaking from my gaze, and then scooted back and to the side, holding my up by my shoulders. His arms didn't give me nearly as much support as his chest had, but it was enough that I didn't topple over in pain—because my side was really starting to hurt like hell.

I pressed my uninjured hand to my ribs, wincing in pain when I fingered the broken one. I concentrated on nothing but the fracture, focusing my chakra to that spot like Tsunade-sensei had taught me. I tried to visualize the bone like she said to, tried to feel everything like I was supposed to. It took longer than it should have to heal—since after all, it was only my first time healing myself—but eventually I could feel the last of the bone cells reconnecting as I finally undid Lee-san's damage.

Suddenly, Lee-san's hands stopped being supportive and started just being warm. It was pleasant in the crisp weather, but at the same time, my notoriously fickle second mind was bothered by him touching me when it wasn't completely necessary.

"Ano, Lee-san, my rib is fine now. You can let go of me."

He removed his hands from my shoulders as quickly as if I had just told him that I was secretly a leper.

There's only one guy I want holding me when I'm injured! Shannaro!

You're terribly fickle. Besides, if Sasuke-kun had broken my rib, he most likely would've thrown a roll of bandages at me and told me to make it quick so we could keep sparring.

Not to mention that Sasuke-kun would never spar with me to begin with. If he ever broke my rib, it'd probably be because he meant to.

The truth of my minds' words sent a burst of icy fire through the hole in my chest. The abruptness and intensity of the pain was so great that not even Lee-san's inner sun could save me. I let out a gasp, suddenly unable to breathe, and tears began to cascade down my face with enough force to power a water-generator.

"Sakura-san?! What's wrong? What can I do to help? What hurts?!"

"NOTHING!" EVERYTHING!

His hands were back on me, then, one cradling my sprained wrist, the other around my shoulders. "Please tell me what's wrong so I can help. Is it about our spar? You were doing well, Sakura-san, you really were. If you'd been up against nearly any other genin, you probably would've overpowered them long before I was able to…hit you." His voice is full of regret and unspoken apologies and promises of retribution.

His encouragements only added shame to my self-aware misery. As my crying got harder, I leaned into his side to stain his shoulder with my useless, freezing tears, and I could actually feel the lines in our relationship slowly beginning to blur. This, of course, made me sob even more hysterically, because he was still not the boy I wanted to go around blurring lines with. Everything about him was wrong, wrong, wrong.

You don't deserve a shoulder to cry on, my ever-fickle second self informed me in a cold voice caused by the cold tears. You're too weak and cruel.

That's me, I replied wearily, one hand clutching the spandex of Lee-san's chest, the other twisting painfully to grab and squeeze his hand.

He held me for about half an hour after I stopped crying. He seemed to understand that the tears had nothing to do with him, and he'd obviously decided that silence was better than attempts at consolation. He was right—as always—and yet his silence gave me no reason to yell at him. Which is what I really wanted. To yell. To scream. To hit something/someone. I didn't want to hurt Lee-san, but at the same time, I really, really wanted to hurt him. Just because he was there, with his arm around my shoulders, and so undeniably not Uchiha Sasuke.

I managed to restrain myself, though, until after I had healed my hand and told Lee-san that I was ready to start sparring again. He probably let me hit him, in some masochistic attempt at making up for previous damages, but it felt good either way. Not because I had gotten revenge, and definitely not because I had just hit my closest—and strongest—friend square between the eyes. No, if felt good because finally, I wasn't the one in pain.

This is such an angsty little fic. It's got ups and downs, and good God, Lee really can't get a break.

Sorry for how short it is. Just try to remember that this entire fic is based on memories, and the chapter ends when the memory stops being important.

Also, i can't write action. Sorry for the suckiness at the beginning. You know, sorry for the suckiness of the whole chappy. i'm really not very happy with any of it. Except for the last paragraph, but that's it. :(

Miyazaki A2