Prompt #10: Cannula

The IV fluid drips into the cannula in time with the lazy hands of the clock.

Sakura can't help but think of the irony of it all. She was lying on a bed in the hospital she spent half of her life in. She chose to specialise in obscetrics and gynaecology and this was her second miscarriage.

This time, the baby had been formed. She can't wipe the horror and (yes, she will admit it) revulsion that struck her as she saw that bloody little alien, struggling for breath.

She was tired of being a disappointment. She had been a disappointment of a kunoichi for most of her life, now she's a disappointment as a wife. She would not cry, even if she could.

She just turns sharply, away from the clock reminding her of her canula, of the IV and why she was here for the second time.

She turns just in time to see Sasuke slumped by the bed, soundly asleep, clutching her hand.

The disappointment rises in her throat and threatens to crush her.

She would cry, if she could.