The Awakening

by stones

Day Three

On the third day she was tired, broken, and shattered.

Yesterday had been a giant pain in the ass. Healing was something she did without second thought. But so much of it always drained her chakra, her energy, and her mood. And yet here she was, preparing for another day of it. For some reason, she had dug up the strength to go the extra mile and actually put some thought into her hair and makeup. Her face had been made and it looked content, the exact opposite of how she was feeling. There had been a loud knock on the door and she imagined herself opening it. Opening and seeing Sasuke. He would stare at her without words but she would know everything he was dying to say. He would stand, rooted in place and she would let him in and make some tea. Then they would get on with their life and pick up where they left of. They would make up for lost time. Many days, hours, minutes of lost time. But as she opened the door heavily, she realized it wasn't him. It never would be.

"Hi Sakura," Naruto greeted, a huge smile adorning his friendly face. She swore she saw his nose twitch in anticipation but merely pushed it aside and welcomed him in.

"Naruto," she countered, walking further into her apartment as he followed closely behind. "Good morning. Take a seat. I'll make some tea." He fashioned himself a seat on the coach near the kitchen. Her apartment was so tiny and had an open layout so that it all seemed like a big jumble of a room. She set the kettle on the stove and lit a match before the gas caught fire. It took a couple seconds before she could see the kettle moisten from the sudden change in temperature and sure enough, it started bubbling soon after.

"You seem tired," Naruto said as she joined him sitting on the coach. She nodded and sighed, stretching her arms over her head.

"Maybe that's because I am," she replied. The remote to the television sat lonely on the coffee table and she picked it up swiftly. She turned it on to a random channel and lowered the volume just enough so that it filled some of the room with its noise. It wasn't as if she would have felt awkward. Being around Naruto was anything but. For the longest time they had been together. And even though he so annoyingly chased after her in her youth, they made it through the tests and trials and came out still intact. She had no doubt that that was a sign of true friendship. One that would never be tarnished.

"We went out for ramen yesterday," Naruto informed just as the kettle started to whistle, rudely interrupting their conversation. Sakura hummed as a sign to continue. She squeezed beside Naruto and the coffee table and he pulled his legs to himself to let her through. "You know Sai and I. Hinata was there too." Sakura lifted a brow. "We had to leave soon though. Sai called a costumer Ugly Whore and well, it didn't really end nicely."

Sakura laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I wish you could have been there," he said, scratching the back of his head with a laugh. His legs shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Each one he chose had proved to be awkward and stiff. "You know, it just seems wrong that he's taking up your time when you could be spending it with your team—your friends."

"There's always next time."

A cabinet drawer opened and she fished out two mugs and plopped a tea bag into each. She poured the scalding water until it filled just enough so that it wouldn't tip and burn her fingers as she walked to the table. Steam lifted from the cups and she hovered a hand above each until they grew hot and little beads of moisture formed on her fingers. The heat had stung but she didn't lift her hand. Instead she looked at Naruto to give him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, next time," Naruto sang, his usual cheery disposition showing through with bright colors. Sakura set the two mugs of tea on the table, ignoring the stray streaks of liquid running down the sides and gathering annoyingly on the table. "When you have the free time we should all just hang out. Not just you, me, and Sai. I mean like everyone. Like a big happy family!"

A big happy family.

"Yeah, sure," Sakura nodded, bringing the mug to her lips only to have them linger on the edge nervously. The thought was warming. Anyone who wouldn't beam at the thought having your loving friends surround you was surely crazy. Her excitement didn't show through her face and she suspected that Naruto took this the wrong way. "That sounds like fun."

"Maybe you could, you know, go out with the girls more," Naruto suggested, letting his tea cool before he would even attempt to take a sip. It sat on the table and he decided to focus his attention on it instead of his friend next to him—maybe out of nervousness or maybe because the tea was just so interesting.

"I do. I just don't have time for that right now. Why does it matter anyway?" It was true that the thought of going out with her girlfriends seemed almost childish in a way, which was a new way of looking at it. There was so much more going in the world and she chose to spend it in a bar or maybe a club. Yes, such trivial things suddenly seemed juvenile to her.

"I don't know," Naruto replied, shaking his hand in the air almost as if he was erasing everything he had just said. It was stupid to suggest such a thing. He could feel like Sakura was feeling a bit on the lonely side recently. Her dating had died down considerably and although he just wanted to help her out with a little suggestion, he regretted it. It was stupid. It was dumb. He was meddling in her life to much. "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, alright," Sakura sighed. It was Naruto. After spending so many years with this boy—no man--, she knew that he was always off on crazy tangents and she didn't doubt that this was just another one. Just another crazy tangent. "Whatever you say.'

"Yeah," Naruto murmured next to her. Finally, he lifted his tea and took a casual sip although she realized that he would glance at her every now and then through the corner of his eyes. She knew something was happening. Something was on the blonde's mind.

"Naruto, is it Hinata?" she asked, taking a stab in the dark. Not much was able to bring the blonde's spirit down and when something was, a guess was in order because he was not someone to come out and cry his problems.

"Hinata?" he asked, looking incredulous. "No, no. It's not her."

"Then wha-"

"Kill him, Sakura."

The words came out heavy and weird. It was strange—such a tone coming from Naruto. He looked at her, as serious as he'd ever been before. These moments were rare and when stumbled upon, it was hard not to stare in bewilderment. They sat on the coach and suddenly she had the urge to move away from him. For the first few seconds she didn't even know what he was talking about. She hadn't made the connections and it didn't register in her brain. But as she clutched the mug in her hands until her knuckles turned white, she put it together. He was asking her to kill. Asking her to murder.

"What?"

"Kill him," he said once more, his tone hazardously low. He did not even blink as he stared straight at her, almost as if he was determined not to let her sidestep his request. "Kill him and bring Sasuke back."

"He'll hate me for it," she replied. She could not fully comprehend what her friend was saying to her. She couldn't grasp the idea behind it all. He was asking to her to be something she wasn't. He was almost challenging her. Daring her. Pushing her. And to put it simply, she was already so close to the edge.

"I-I would do it if I had the chance," he informed Sakura and she finally found her muscle movement and set her mug next to his. "But I don't. Even if he were to hate me, at least he would be at home. At least he would be back. Without his brother running around, he has no reason not to come back."

"How do you suggest I do it?" Sakura asked. She knew he hadn't thought this through thoroughly. There was always the fact that Sasuke most likely wouldn't even want to come back after his brother's death. And that, well that stung even more than him leaving in the first place. Naruto didn't know what he was saying; he was acting on impulse. He was always a passionate person. How she wished that she could act on an urge. Rely on selfish tendencies. But he was anything but selfish. Maybe just a little lost. "I can't just kill him. They want him alive."

"They'll kill him sooner or later," Naruto said next to her. To speak of such things with him felt incredibly strange and out of place. All their conversations had been light hearted and pleasant. Speaking of death and betrayal even though they constantly dealt with it was out of the ordinary. "But it needs to be done now."

"They want to question him," Sakura reminded him.

"Who cares about the Akatsuki?" he spoke loudly. He stiffened in his seat and sat forward, hands moving along with his words. He was barely on the couch anymore and was craving to stand in the anxiousness of it all. "We'll worry about them later."

"They want to kill you!" she exclaimed. The idea that he would push away the chance to save himself from their grasp was crazy. But she supposed she couldn't blame him when she felt just as strongly about Sasuke.

"And I'll suffer for him," he whispered, finally looking away. "I want him home as soon as possible."

Yes, her friend was passionate. Passionate but not selfish.

"Good morning," she greeted as she nodded her head at the guards standing outside his door. They acknowledged her and she lifted her arms and spread her legs. Was this even necessary? She had been searched at least two times before this. She would have to be an absolute genius for her to sneak anything past the first ones. But perhaps that's what they did this for. After all, they had one in their cells.

She entered the room, carrying her medical kit and clipboard. At first she thought him to be sleeping. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. He seemed almost peaceful, something that contradicted his person greatly. She was happy that he was sleeping. She had to admit it made her less tense. His powerful gaze would not be pinning her down. She could move more freely and dare she say, more comfortably. But this was a laugh. Comfortable and this man did not mix.

Like water and oil.

She turned her back on him and set her things on the table with the most cautious movements. His cloak was still laid lazily about. Nothing in this room had been moved. Now that she thought about it, she turned to study him. He was in the same position—the chains, the restrains, the same smelly clothes, the same bloodstained cheek, the same everything. Did they even feed him? Why did they suspect her to heal him when they could not even supply simple nutrients that were essential to the body?

"It is rude to stare."

She hadn't even seen him open his eyes or move his mouth. But there he was, looking straight at her once more. An eyebrow was lifted, challenging her to say something. She could have sworn he was smirking. Her eyebrows furrowed angrily. He wanted her to say something? She wouldn't disappoint.

"Then lucky for me, I wasn't staring," she countered, turning fully from the table to face him head on. In any other circumstances, she would have shied away. But in his current position, she couldn't help but dabble in experimentation. She had the chance to face him without the threat and fear of dying. And now that the opportunity lay so graciously in front of her, she snatched it without a second thought. "I was observing."

"Two words. One meaning."

"What about you?" she asked, creating a new sort of argument. "All you do is stare."

She saw him smirk and close his eyes lightly. His body moved back lazily and his head was leaned on the cold, metal wall. "Not staring," he corrected her, opening his eyes. "Observing."

Without any noise, she stood in front of him. He continued to look straight at her even as she looked away. She cleared her throat and crouched only slightly to reach the height he was at while sitting. Her hands moved slowly and they lifted his torn clothes. The bandages were bloody, dirty, and they stunk. Slowly, she unwrapped the cloth from his body and with each layer that was discarded, the smell increased. It was gory. The gash was infected and luckily for him, only slightly. She needn't even use her chakra on it. Antibiotics would suffice and remove the infection with a couple days. She didn't want to unnecessarily use her chakra when something else could have easily done the same repairs. It was wet and sludgy looking. Some skin was tinted the slightest green and it felt incredibly warm. It was on fire.

"Infected," she said curtly. She returned to her medical kit and began to scavenge. He watched her from behind. Since her face was considerably out of sight, he took it upon himself to look at other things: the back of her head, her shoulders, her hips, her ass, her incredibly smooth looking legs. He imagined her during a battle, training, taking a nap, having sex. "Easy to fix though."

She turned around and smiled in triumph, shaking a small container that clattered with the pills inside. He eyed it slightly. The thought that he would have to be dependent on something so small, so easily crushable, annoyed him greatly. And he must have shown that through his face because the girl suddenly shrunk, shoulders slumped.

"I'll have to wait for the infection to heal before I start the stitching," she informed, staring at his wound with squinted eyes. It showed how much she was disgusted. How much it sickened her. "Should clear up in a day or two. Open up."

He looked at her as she walked closer and crouched before him once more. She wasn't staring at his eyes. Her gaze was most definitely locked onto his lips but maybe it was only because that was where she was aiming to pop the pills in. A different thought flickered through her head but she quickly shoved it away. Reluctantly, his lips parted only slightly and she took one pill in her hand. The room was unbearably quiet and his stare was still making her brow sweat. She had succeeded in putting the pill in his mouth and soon another followed. Her fingertips grazed his thin lips for a second and they felt cold. Bitterly cold.

Soon she followed with water, which dribbled down his chin when she twitched the slightest bit. But she hissed to herself that she was not too blame. Keeping one's composure seemed incredibly hard under his stare. She watched the water flow from his lips to his chin—some dripping on his clothes-- and she contemplated for a moment. Should she wipe it away? But with what, her hand? Quickly so that she could not think about it any longer, she rubbed the back of her hand against his chin. She heard a deep breath by him. It sounded amused. Soon another pill was shoved in his face but his mouth had already longed closed. He had received the needed antibiotics. What was the meaning of this?

"Soldier pill," she answered his unspoken questions. Whoever said that he had no emotions was a fool. Clearly he did. But his way of expressing them seemed so pristine, so noble, that one could not help but think he did not feel what he felt. Did not think what he thought. Did not see what he saw. He certainly knew how to control these emotions. A true talent of a great ninja. "It will have to do until I can do something about the food. Or lack there of." And with that, he reluctantly swallowed yet another pill.

"How very thoughtful of you."

"It's my job," she reminded. She retreated back to her things and began to scratch on her clipboard. It was hard to keep track of time and sometimes he found himself wondering whether it was day or night. But whenever she came in, she smelled off coffee or tea which sent a message to him that it was either morning or very close to noon. But when she left, he would be lost again. Stuck in time. Stuck in one place.

"I can give you painkillers," she informed him, not taking her eyes off her medical kit, which she was repacking. Pills rattled in their containers. She wound bandages back into a neat roll. She folded little towels back to place.

"I think I can handle it."

"Arrogant bastard," Inner Sakura huffed.

"Many people want you dead," she said, taking the conversation into a total different direction. She felt she needed to remind him. Felt as if he had forgotten who he was, what he had done. He seemed content with himself, almost as if he had forgiven himself for all the evil he had ever committed. But soon in time she would learn, forgetting and forgiving were two separate things. Her thoughts drifted to Naruto sitting on her couch, watching her with those desperate eyes. How easily it would be to just take the syringe, fill it with poison, stab it through the Uchiha's skin and watch slowly as he died. How easy it would be to end this all.

But at the same time, how incredibly hard.

"So I've been told."

"One of them being your own brother," she said, closing the lid of her medical kit with a loud thud. She was enraged when he had chosen not to say anything. He didn't even have to say anything. A huff, a snort, a sniffle. Anything would suffice. But no, there was nothing. Once again. "Don't you care? Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What would you like me to say?"

She froze because she didn't know.

"'Till tomorrow then," she huffed. Even in her hurried state, one where she was so anxious to leave this room, she took the time to let her fingers touch his cloak. Before she made it out the door, his voice stopped her.

"Where is my goodbye kiss?"

She stood frozen at the doorway. She couldn't believe what had just come from his mouth—what had just entered her ears and nestled into her brain. She turned her head slightly to the side but not enough to look at him. "You'll do your best to remember that we are not playing house, Uchiha."

"Oh yes. My mistake. I forgot. We are playing doctor."

Finally, she shifted all the way. Her eyes locked with his and she swore she felt eternity pass in a matter of seconds. His eyes swirled dangerously.

"I am not playing anything. You are not playing anything." There was a long pause and her voice came out soft, sorrowful, and maybe even desperate. "This is not a game."

He said nothing and she didn't really expect him too. This was an Uchiha she was dealing with. She had to make sure not to expect a heavy conversation or else she would be left incredibly disappointed. Funny and ironic how that turned out. Disappointment. Once a word that Uchiha Itachi had stayed away from like the plague. Now, she was sure that he was the very definition to all Uchihas watching them from above and all the villagers who had heard of the tales and the legend. No, not the legend. To be a legend, he would have to be dead. Soon, very soon. He would be legendary. But he would not be respected. People would spit upon his grave and forever he would be known as the monster born in Konoha.

"Was all that supposed to be a joke?" she asked, incredulous.

"Do I look amused?"

She didn't know because in the end, Uchiha Itachi was an incredibly hard man to read.

"Sakura."

She turned and smiled at Shizune who had been walking down the opposite was of the street. The two medics stopped for friendly conversation. They were polite. They were mannered. And looking past all that, they were curious.

"How are things going?" the older woman asked, a smile decorating her ordinary question. It was a simple sentence, laced together with simple words. But they meant so much more. The answers were finite. They could be broad. They could be specific. Unfortunately for her, Sakura was feeling vague.

"Fine," she answered plainly. The other woman nodded, understanding her short reply. For this reason, Sakura lengthened it. "You know, can't complain." But she could. And she wanted to.

"That's nice to hear," Shizune whispered, ceasing the nodding of her head. A quiet breeze flew by and danced around them. Their hair blew softly, Sakura's twisting more rapidly due to the long length. "I suppose I should get going. Things are still kind of hectic around the hospital."

Sakura 'hm'ed while Shizune brushed past her. Suddenly, she turned and had the urge to reach out to the woman. She caught her by the elbow and Shizune halted in her steps. She looked to Sakura with raised eyebrows, patiently waiting for whatever the pink-haired girl had to say.

"Why me?" was the only words that left Sakura's mouth but Shizune knew what she had meant.

"It was Tsunade's call," Shizune said and Sakura let go her hold on the woman. Shizune straightened and turned to her fully from the sudden freedom in movement. "Not mine."

"I will not question it then," Sakura concluded and the older medic nodded. She continued to take her leave and Sakura watched as she disappeared around the corner, making her way to the hospital. The thought entered her mind that this was some sort of test. Maybe the Hokage had personally chosen Sakura for this job for the fact that she wanted to create some kind of test—a test to see how far her loyalty stretched. Maybe she wanted Sakura to kill him. Murder him in a silent way. Maybe that was the reason Naruto had visited her that night. Maybe Tsunade doubted her abilities because of her affection toward Sasuke.

That seemed highly unlikely. Tsunade knew just as much as Sakura that she must follow orders and nothing more. She was not in the position to evaluate and calculate her own actions. Her life was that of a ninja. She took orders, defended her village, and fulfilled her duties. This sort of test was not likely. It was even ludicrous. Looking back at the Uchiha's early question that made her redden like a tomato, she realized this whole thing was the definition of ludicrous. She looked at the sky and noticed it was still a brilliant blue meaning she had finished early and would be able to spend some of her time in the brilliant sun. It was peaceful.

Peaceful and ludicrous.

Like water and oil.

"Yo," someone said next to her and Sakura turned her head. The wild grass tickled her face and pricked her ear. She nodded in acknowledgement at Shikamaru who had taken it upon himself to lie down next to her. "Someone's taken up my hobby."

"It's tranquil," she said, explaining herself. She saw him smirk through that lazy face of his. Deciding that this conversation would linger no further, she settled her head straight once more and stared at the sky, which held a large number of fluffy, white clouds. As some would pass, she would connect them to various animals. Rabbits, deer, puppies. Everything safe and cute.

"Is he everything they say he is?" Shikamaru asked beside her. She nearly jumped from the sudden noise. The soft wind had lulled her into a silent trance and the sun beat down on her eyes, coaxing her to savor the moment and close her eyes. Breathe deeply and feel everything around her. His voice was a sharp contrast to all of this and it cut through her daze like a knife through butter.

"Yeah," she answered, opening her fingers wide and stretching them to feel the leaves bend below them. "And more." Much more. He was surprising, this Uchiha. There was no doubt the resemblance between brothers. They acted much the same and both had dug themselves deep in her brain. The fact that Uchiha Itachi could find any sort of sarcasm in that isolated, cold cell was beyond her. It was crazy. It was refreshing. Now as she looked up at the great clouds, she was at a loss. She could see no animals, no images. She saw nothing but what they were. Clouds. They were not bunnies, hippos, or any other ridiculous animal hidden in her imagination. No, they were only clouds.

"How troublesome."

She laughed. "You really have no idea."

"Where is everyone else?"

"Who knows? Who cares?"

This surprised the lazy Shikamaru who could have sworn that the pink haired medic was saying everything he would have. The words were light and carefree. He knew that they arose from revelations and remembrance.

Revelations and remembrance.

Like water and oil.

That night Sakura ate a whole tub of ice cream. Her sweet tooth had kicked in and she became the girl she was. She stared at the television screen, tears streaming down her face. A sappy chick flick flashed before her. It was tragic really. It was about a woman whose husband had recently left her. She was picking up the pieces to the complicated puzzle that was her heart. It hearts were really puzzles, Sakura guessed that she had missing pieces scattered everywhere.

After her shower, she sauntered into bed and nuzzled her face into her pillow. She imagined she was nuzzling herself into Sasuke's chest while he grunted knowingly. Her lower muscles in her abdomen clenched at the thought. But he was not there to finish the job. He was not there to further ignite this desire and bring it to its peak. No he was not there. She turned in her bed and yawned heavily. Her blanket was hoisted up to her chin and she clenched the fabric in her hands.

She then thought about Naruto. His request. His eyes. His desperate eyes. His mouth. His determined lips. Cold lips. Cold like Uchiha Itachi's. Uchiha Itachi. She had heard about him but now she saw him before her very eyes and she realized he was not what she thought he would be. She expected to walk into the room be dead within a few minutes. But even this thought was funny. He couldn't. He was restrained. He was incapable of killing her, right?

She turned once more in her bed. She began to take notice of the differences in her and the older Uchiha. She had bright pink hair that some found incredibly obnoxious but others found extraordinary. He had dark hair that made him very mysterious—almost the complete opposite of the predictable woman that she was. He showed emotions, but to the very minimum. She was a basket full of brightly colored emotions that flared back and forth. He was a killer who stole life and she was a medic who gave it back. He was him and he was her if that made any sense. They were different and she realized they would never mix.

Like water and oil.

But still, even when the two were put together, they would swirl around each other, living in a unique, dysfunctional situation.

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A/N: Many mistakes in this one. Will fix one day. Thank you for reading and please review.