title: Grave
pairing: Sasuke/Sakura
genre: adventure/romance
rating: T
summary: "I just don't want you to be his Persephone." She wondered when his hand had become chains, dragged her down into the underworld. AU. Sasuke/Sakura.
disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

part i.

you saved a girl
with skin of snow
with hair of pink
and eyes that glow

"Here we are," he tried to sound enthused but he's seen his apartment like, every day, and it wasn't exactly an adventure park.

The girl didn't think so either.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

He pulled her toward the bathroom but she held onto the nearby kitchen counter. Her eyes were narrowed and they told him she was tired of being dragged around. He supposed some sort of explanation would lessen her reluctance and he wondered how to say it exactly.

All he could think of was, "I'm not going to sell you," and "You can leave anytime you want." He didn't know how comforting that was to a twelve year old that had lost everything, but the fierceness in her eyes softened and she looked at him squarely. "Are you going to," she hesitated at the last second and turned away. He heard the muffled, "use me," and he found himself turning away too. Amused—he tried to keep a straight face as her cheeks flushed to the color of roses.

She stiffened, angry. He would've teased her ("No way, kiddo. You're not my type.") but he decided there would be time for that later, when she was more comfortable around him—or perhaps, not comfortable, in which she'll leave.

"I won't hurt you."

Sakura got along well with Kakashi, though there were days when the two thought the other to be extremely disagreeable.

He was handsome, and heroic—later she would discover his less admirable traits.

He was kind and she marveled at how he had an unending supply of stupid excuses he kept on the tip of his tongue. He would charm her with his ridiculous justifications when he got home late; she would launch their already scarce silverware at his head. She knew him to be honest (when necessary) and he took care of her like an older brother.

Living with Kakashi, it was like having a family again.

He brought home books for her and every month, a newspaper. He came home late most days, she never asked why. He wouldn't bothering being clever about it—probably because he was so bad at being stealthy that she wondered how he ever came back alive from missions. It pissed her off that he would just stroll into her room, announce he's home, and close the door before various items flew at his head. He never made her worry. That much.

Sakura found out that she tolerated—liked—him because he could stand right next to her, and yet, put galaxies between them.

He made her comfortable—she was already throwing lamps at him by the end of the first week. She trusted him and she did her best not to be a burden even though he insisted she wasn't.

She never asked why he chose her from a group of so many.

She was terrified that he wouldn't know the answer. He would reconsider and come to the realization, "I made a mistake," and take her back. The thought became her nightmare.

Nightmares. They plagued her. Living inside her like a sickness, a cough that wouldn't go away, a cancer.

Kakashi never asked what the nightmares were about. "There are no monsters in the closet, Sakura," he would tease through the doorway. "There's no need to be frightened, your knight-in-shining-armor is just in the living room." Sakura would throw a pillow at him.

The worst nightmares were the ones with the man who was an artist. He had red eyes and a wicked face and he painted red buildings and red roads with her parent's blood. She would be restless and Kakashi would wake her. They would have coffee in the living room and stare out the wide windows of his apartment.

"He's dead," Kakashi would say, because he knew.

"What I would give for him to be alive," she would reply, "so I can run a dagger into his heart."

"You're not that kind of person."

"Then why do I think about it every day?"

Kakashi kept her sane.

She wondered how she would ever repay him.

She lived with Kakashi for six months before she finally left the apartment to find work.

Sakura met Tsunade who had been a coworker of her father's, but because the two were only passing acquaintances, the woman didn't have much insight into Sakura's life before the war.

Tsunade was beautiful, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. She ran what was left of the Konoha Protection Force after the government abandoned it. Kakashi was part of a task team there.

Sakura was assigned to manage the medical library and she frequented the hospital when they needed help. Mostly, Sakura read books and ran errands.

Kakashi taught her how to defend herself; Tsunade took her on as an apprentice and paved the way for Sakura's inhuman strength and medical aptitude.

She should've known that God was going to make her choose.

He had no choice, really.

Sakura was receiving so much.

("Hey, this is Anko. Tsunade gave me the apartment number. This is Sakura, right?"

"…"

"Sakura?"

"Yeah, hey. Did something happen?"

"Nah. Same old, same old. I called because I thought you might be worried about Kakashi."

"…"

"He's recovering."

"That's good to hear. Take care of him, Anko."

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"…"

"Sakura? Can I ask a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why did you leave?"

"…"

"…"

"Because I chose freedom.")

part ii.

She woke to a familiar ceiling.

"It's been four years," a voice said. "Here we are."

Kakashi stood over her, his visible eye tired and his face stern. "You're awake. We thought you wouldn't make it." He sighed and pulled the desk chair over to the bed. He sat down and looked at her. "How're you feeling?"

"Where's Naruto?" Sakura asked. Her voice came out scratchy, foreign. "How long have I been out? Did you catch the assassin?"

Kakashi was angry, he kept his voice leveled but she knew he was furious—they had lived together for four years after all.

"Naruto is safe and rest assure, he's not as badly beaten up as you are," Kakashi replied. He rested his back against the back of the chair and looked at her with arms crossed. "You've been out for three days and you fell in and out of consciousness for two. Today's the sixth day since you came back to Konoha. It's been almost a week."

"And the assassin?"

Kakashi shook his head. "Naruto was top priority according to Danzo. The assassin left when we arrived and it would've wasted time were we to follow him. The two of you were losing blood; we had to get you both to the hospital."

Sakura decided she wanted to sit.

She wanted to move around and have her body feel like it was hers. She used her arms as support, but it felt like she was trapped beneath a mountain—the black figure holding her down appeared in her mind.

Kakashi moved in to help her, he ignored how she faltered at his touch. He leaned her softly against the headboard and sat back down.

"Danzo wanted you to continue with the operation, but Tsunade wasn't going to risk your safety. She's bringing the files over." Kakashi watched as her dull eyes widened, the gray pools were filling up with a vibrant green. They were flickering with wonder and questions and he nodded. "This'll give you a place to start. Names, faces, street addresses. The files should have those things."

Tear were in her eyes and the heaviness lessened. Kakashi sighed. "Well I'm glad you thought this whole thing was worth it."

After Tsunade handed the files over to Sakura, she dragged Kakashi out of the room. Sakura wondered why till she opened the top file.

There was a ticket.

The girl took a breath, holding the slip of paper like it was her lifeline.

No one understood her like Tsunade.

There was a note beneath the ticket.

I don't know how much time I can give you.
Kakashi isn't a fool. This is the only opening I can make for you.
Adrenaline and pain killers are in the bag.
Call me when you get Oto.

Sakura reached for her dark green duffel Tsunade had left on the edge of the bed and pulled it over—her arms felt like they were going to break off. She opened the bag and scattered with an array of other drugs, she saw the prepared syringe—the white liquid glistened—and needle.

Sakura breathed in. She pulled the comforter to her mouth and bit onto the thick fabric. Then, she carefully slid the thin needle into her upper left arm. She watched the white liquid disappear as she closed down on the pump. This is freedom. Her scream was muffled by the comforter.

And then her whole body was electrified. Buzzing.

While it had taken her minutes to pull the bag over, fiddle with the zipper and take the syringe and needle out, it took her mere seconds to throw everything back in. She changed out of the hospital garment and into a blue dress—despite the weather, it would be easier to run. She slipped into shorts and pulled her arms through her favorite dark green trench coat. She was at the door before she remembered she needed to breath.

She took one look at the apartment.

Before she dashed down the street, her bare feet teasing the soft, icy winterland beneath her.

part iii.

you saved a girl
with skin of snow
with hair of pink
and eyes that glow

but in the end
she let you go

"Sasuke."

She was gasping, she wondered if he heard her.

Maybe it wasn't him at all.

But the boy in front turned, his coal blacks eyes narrowed and his brow lifted.

"And you said you would be alright. So why is it that you're all patched up looking like you nearly died?"

and followed Hades
to the world below

tbc.