Memento, a naruto fanfic

I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

My first memory was of pain. My first breath was choked with a copper-tasting fluid in my throat, and I coughed for the first time. The first colour I saw was red, smeared on the tips of my fingers after I had raised them to my mouth. My first thought was, Blood.

I dizzily raised my head, and found a pair of dark eyes staring down at me, murky with dozens of emotions.

It was the first time I saw desperation.

All at once, the trees stopped running and the wind stopped howling, and the world seemed to stop revolving while I struggled to find my bearings.

Then I felt myself being settled down on the ground by a pair of strong arms. He lowered me gently, his stony stare never wavering, like I would shatter if he jolted me even a little. I soon discovered that maybe he wasn't so far off from the mark. The moment my back made contact with rough bark, sharp needles of pain arced through my body and set my veins on fire. I opened my mouth to cry out but my voice had abandoned me and I only ended up in a coughing fit.

He frowned. He looked at me for a long moment. I thought I saw his pupils flash crimson – then he whirled around like lightning and crushed his fist into the nearest tree, snarling curses. I flinched. He muttered to himself and I strained to hear, but all I could make out was an internal thumping that throbbed in tandem to the agonising pounding at the back of my head.

I wondered if I was supposed to comfort him. I studied his back while I contemplated how. The fabric of his torn garments was stained dark red. It was hard to believe that he had lost so much blood and could still be standing. I saw that his hands were slick with more crimson, freshly-spilt, and I wondered where it had come from.

Leaves overhead rustled as a light breeze stirred them. The gentle gust of wind seemed to blow right through me. I shivered. I was numb to the bone and my eyelids steadily grew heavier. I was prepared to succumb when I was suddenly seized by the shoulders and roughly shaken. Instantly, sharp knives of agony sliced through my entire body and I would have screamed if I could. A salty tear slid down my face and stung a cut on my cheek.

I heard a frustrated curse. When the pain faltered enough for me to regain my senses, I realised that he had gathered me in his arms and pulled me close to his body. "Don't sleep," he murmured.

He was warm. I shakily raised my hand and hooked my senseless fingers onto his thin shirt. I clung to him. After a long moment, he slowly wrapped his arms around me and tucked me into the crook of his body. "Don't sleep," he said again, softly. "You have to live, Sakura."

Sakura… It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't know what my own name was. I began to panic. My fervour sent my heart racing, and for some reason my vision abruptly grew duller, darker. A guttural sound of frustration rumbled through the chest on which my head lay. A painful pressure settled on my abdomen and a burst of stars erupted behind my eyelids.

The earthly scent of dead leaves filled my nostrils. I realised that I had been laid down on the ground. The sound of tearing fabric filled the air. It was cold. My fingers twitched for the warmth that I had been denied. I groped thin air.

Groaning, I prised my eyes open to see him leaning over me, bare-chested now. He passed a strip of fabric under my body; once, twice, three times… I could not count – then he pulled. By now, I was getting used to the frequent attacks on my pain threshold, and focused on the sensation of his fingers dancing over my torso instead. I could not see what he was doing. Bandaging my body? Was I injured? How badly?

My mind was suddenly filled with too many questions. I grew tired, my body shutting down. As if he sensed I was disobeying his order, his face appeared again within the frame of the encroaching darkness invading my vision. His mouth moved but I heard nothing. He shook me again, this time so hard that my bones rattled, but I felt nothing.

He picked me up and ran. The scenery blurred into green again. I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I didn't want to sleep but my body did. My eyes closed on their own accord, and I slept.

Memento

n. A reminder of the past

I. VESTIGE

Ceiling. White. Morning. Silence.

Meaningless words streamed through my mind when I opened my eyes, as if my consciousness was fumbling for answers to a relentless flood of questions: Where am I? What day is it? What happened?

Who am I?

The stiff blanket slid off my torso when I sat up. The sensation of being stabbed suddenly wracked my body, and I doubled over, gasping. But there was no wound. Feeling somewhat silly, I unfurled myself and looked around the empty room – boxed, white; a hospital. Carefully, I eased out of the bed and walked over to the window, finding a lush courtyard stretched below. I opened the window wider and stuck my head outside to inhale the fresh scent. That was how I heard them.

They were sitting on a bench directly beneath my second-storey window. A girl with long blonde hair and a dark-haired man.

"Why can't you tell me?" I was surprised to hear frustration in the girl's voice; they were sitting so calmly, but then again I could only see the back of their heads. "Why did you come back? You know what happened, so why won't you tell me?"

"You're annoying." His voice, low and flat, teased a memory from my jumbled mind. Don't sleep…

The girl's shoulders tensed. "Do you know what she said to me after you left? She actually asked me, Am I so annoying that Sasuke-kun left? So don't use that excuse with me. You made it clear that you didn't care – so why did you come back with her half-dead in your arms?"

There was a moment of silence. Then he tipped his head to the sky and I ducked, afraid I would be caught eavesdropping. But I heard his answer. "I promised him."

I closed the window, having heard enough to feel guilty for intruding. When I thought to look back, the girl had left. Her companion hadn't moved at all.

I faced the sterile room, so hollow and quiet. I absently made the bed then sat down at the end of it, hands clasped in my lap. I suddenly had a flash of red everywhere – staining my fingers, the shapeless clothes I was wearing, the bleached walls. I shook my head violently. I blindly reached out for support, gripping the first thing that my fingers touched.

Only after the crimson had receded did I look down and realise that I had grabbed the medical clipboard at the end of the bed. After another beat, I realised that it could only be mine.

Haruno Sakura.

Admitted in critical condition.

Refer all issues to Tsunade, Godaime Hokage.

The rest of the page was blank. Bewildered, I flipped over. My eyes widened.

"Being your own doctor, are you?"

I turned around quickly, almost dropping the clipboard. I hadn't even heard the door open. The owner of the voice was a beautiful, well-endowed woman with a distinct air of authority. I felt intimidated as she studied me, even though I saw that her eyes were soft with tender concern and relief. "I'm sorry," I blurted.

She blinked, the faint trace of amusement flushing from her expression. "Well. You are qualified…" She gave her head a small shake. "So, how are you feeling?" she asked. Her hand came up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes, and instead of replying I found myself instinctively recoiling from her touch. She stiffened, her eyes widening.

I grimaced. "Sorry. I don't-"

"What is your name?" I raised my head, startled by the sharp tone. My mind flashed to the medical record, which I was still clutching.

"H-Haruno Sakura."

She didn't miss a beat. "Do you know who I am?"

An instinctive voice in my head told me not to lie. Slowly, I shook my head.

She gazed at me for a long time, as if she was waiting for me to change my mind. I made myself meet her gaze, and perhaps she saw the truth in my eyes. She chucked to herself – but I could see her composure crumbling. "You wouldn't joke about this. He would, though."

I felt terrible. So when she sighed heavily and tentatively stepped forward, I let her wrap her arms around me and hold me like I was all she had left.

"I'm sorry," I heard myself whisper. "I'm really sorry."

I learned later that my visitor had been none other than Tsunade, Godaime Hokage and strictly my personal medic. Her apprentice came in hours after she had wordlessly left, and ran tests on me. According to Shizune, I had retained perfect knowledge of everything except for my personal experiences. Although I'd already deduced the same on my own, hearing it confirmed aloud somehow made me feel particularly empty. Hollow.

I pulled my shirt back down. Shizune began to pack away her instruments. "Tsunade-sama will see you tomorrow," she explained apologetically. "She's… unprepared today."

I thought back to her embrace, so warm yet so crushingly hopeful. I hesitated before asking, "Did she know me well?"

Shizune paused. She slowly closed the lid of the case. "You were – are – her apprentice."

I realised that I craved this simple knowledge, welcoming it like a missing piece of a puzzle. Shizune watched me, like she was waiting for a meaningful reaction. But when I looked over at her and our eyes met for the briefest of moments, she quickly averted her gaze to busy herself with the clasp. "How did I lose my memories?" I asked her.

For some reason, I felt annoyed with myself almost immediately after the question left my lips. I realised why when Shizune began to list the possible causes; I already knew the answer. Brain damage, trauma, malicious mind jutsu – my subconsciousness even echoed the explanations. Haruno Sakura was familiar with this. I wasn't, though, and found it unpleasant. It was like I had been possessed. By myself. I didn't like it.

"You were brought in heavily injured, Sakura. It's not surprising-"

"Yes, it is." I interrupted without thinking. Shizune stared at me; clearly she hadn't been expecting it either. I instantly felt out of line and would have hastened to apologise, if only my instincts weren't at that moment dominated by the innate urge to never back down. "I saw the medical record," I said. "There's no way I could have survived with those injuries. I'm supposed to be dead, not an amnesiac. It's not right. How can I-"

"How can you question your existence like that?"

Shizune's angry words rang in the air like fading bite marks on skin. I was stunned. It was the first time someone had raised their voice at me. Instinctive fury began to well up before the initial fright even began to dissipate – but I forced it down. Not because Shizune abruptly came to her senses and began to apologise, but because she broke down in front of my very eyes, her words distorted by frustrated sobs.

I was speechless. Shizune's anguish was like a bucket of cold water on my tenacity, which now felt more like a petty child's outburst than a justified bid for answers that I had more than enough right to be privy to. It was the second time I had upset someone, and it settled heavily on my conscience. I hesitantly reached for her but pulled back at the last moment, instead resorting to the only thing that felt safe to say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry… Shizune."

She shook her head, already drying her face. I felt hideously selfish when she smiled wanly at me. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have… You need to understand that a lot of people care about you. You're not alone, Sakura. Okay?"

At that moment, I realised that I had no right to act like the victim, when the people around me suffered more than I could appreciate. I was hurting them, and I didn't know how to stop.

I bit my lip and nodded. "I understand."

It was the first time I lied. But it wasn't the last.

I was still regretting my outburst hours later, as I slowly picked my way through the hospital's complicated labyrinth of corridors.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Shizune had told me, smiling. "I've seen worse. You could get so fierce sometimes, especially when you were determined. You almost took out the Hokage Tower the last time you argued with Tsunade-sama." She laughed when she saw my expression. "It was an accident – at least, I like to think it was. With your strength you could…" She trailed off with the regretful look of someone who had confused the past with the present, and tactfully asked me if I had eaten instead. She seemed almost relieved when I said I hadn't. Maybe I wasn't the only one who needed to escape for a moment, to backtrack enough to fully comprehend everything that had happened.

I followed yet another EXIT sign, this time down a stairwell. By now I had grown accustomed to the surprised and uncertain looks my mere presence attracted, so I barely flinched when I passed another astonished nurse. She looked like she wanted to say something to me but I had already moved on, and after a few seconds she did too; hesitantly at first, then decisively quickening her pace, forgetting me as easily as I had myself.

Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic in that dim, narrow stairwell. I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself, and when that failed I broke into a run. I was under strict orders not to overexert myself but I wasn't even short of breath as I flew through foreign hallways. My limbs felt sluggish and uncoordinated, yet at the same time were strong enough to carry me at a speed that blurred my surroundings into a single, enclosing void. Only when I burst into the open courtyard could I breathe again.

Gasping, I let my dying momentum drag me to a shaky halt. Pain shot up my leg and I winced. Snapped femur, I thought vaguely, recalling the medical record with an entire page of mortal injuries. Mass internal bleeding, three ribs broken, five cracked, severe cranial damage… I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to banish it from my mind. I backed up until I felt a cold wall press into my shoulder blades. Another round of phantom pain seared my back, reminding me that it was all I'd ever known in a life that could be counted in days on a child's fingers and toes.

I slid down to the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees. I didn't know what I was doing, didn't know why I felt so empty, so incompatible. I was like a puzzle piece with jagged edges; if you looked closely enough you would see the painful cracks where I had been forcefully bent to fill the hole. I thought of Tsunade as she held me close, Shizune as she cried for me, and the strangers who had looked at me and seen the ghost of someone else. Pressing the palm of my hand to my stinging eyes, I realised that all I'd wanted from them were answers to frustratingly simple questions. Who am I? What happened to me? What should I do? And more importantly – Why won't you tell me that everything will be alright?

My senses tingled and I recognised the sensation of being watched – another intuitive souvenir Haruno Sakura had left me. I lifted my head from my knees. He was staring right at me, blatantly and shamelessly, sitting exactly where I had seen him hours ago. I had seen that face with the mixed emotions before. I turned away, biting my lip. Don't look…

I focused on the blades of grass beneath my bare feet, even when my vision began to blur. I didn't look up when another pair of feet stopped in front of me. I didn't want to talk to him, or anyone for that matter. But I couldn't stop myself when a light, feminine voice said, "Found you."

It was the slender blonde girl from before, the one who had been upset with the man across the courtyard. I found myself glancing back in his direction, seeking the safety of a face I actually recognised. But he had vanished, leaving no trace of his existence.

The girl smiled at me. "Mind if I sit?"

Coming to my senses, I tried to discreetly dash away the tears hovering on my eyelashes, and shook my head. She lowered herself onto the space beside me, her long hair brushing my cheek. "Here's your lunch," she said, dangling a white plastic bag in front of my face. "Shizune got called back because some idiot broke his arm trying to smash ten boulders in one go. So here I am."

I carefully unhooked the bag from her extended fingers. "Umm…"

"It's okay," she said abruptly. In a soft voice, she added, "I know you don't remember me."

"Ah…"

She poked my arm. "You're not going to have some? I went halfway across the village just to buy that, you know." She watched me pull a bento out of the plastic bag. Then she said, "I'm Ino."

"Pig?"

Her blue eyes widened. "What…"

It took me a moment to realise that I had spoken aloud, instead of diplomatically censoring my thoughts. I flushed and hastily apologised. But Ino just laughed, even though there was a certain tremor in her voice. "Yeah, you used to call me that. You weren't very creative. I, on the other hand, had an arsenal of names for you."

I was too curious to be embarrassed. "Really?"

"Giant Forehead. Billboard Brow. Human Bulletin."

I felt myself twitch. "That's not very nice."

She chuckled. "We weren't very nice to each other." I couldn't help but notice that her expression darkened almost imperceptibly. She looked… regretful. I couldn't be certain, though, because she recovered quickly and gave me a look of mock disapproval. "Don't give me that look. You're too old to be fed."

I was surprised by the immediate urge to retort, which I stifled with some difficulty. Ino was telling the truth then. But if we had been so nasty to each other, why was she here with me now, trying to hide the pained look that Tsunade and Shizune had worn? Had we made up, or did she have ulterior motives? I didn't know who to trust. And the fact that the person I distrusted the most was myself had to be the most depressing revelation ever.

"Come on, I didn't poison that," Ino said modestly.

After some thought, I snapped the chopsticks. Then I paused. "My name's Sakura." It sounded weird when I said it.

Ino rolled her eyes. "I know, silly." But she smiled anyway.

I was ravenous, I discovered. It was awkward at first, eating in front of a stranger, but I quickly got used to Ino's presence. I subconsciously observed her while I ate, acutely informed of every gesture she made. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head as I had done, closing her eyes. When I finished the onigiri, she suddenly sighed and shifted her position again. Her shoulder came to rest against mine, but that wasn't why I sputtered and pulled a disgusted face.

Ino came out of her reverie. She looked at the half-bitten mochi – which to my dismay was seasoned with shichimi – then at me as I tried to get the pungent taste out of my mouth. She smiled slowly. "Would you look at that? You still hate spicy stuff."

"Doesn't everyone?" I coughed, still sputtering.

"Not really. God, still so picky about everything."

While I wondered if I should be insulted, Ino reached over my arm and picked out all the mochi, popping them into her mouth. Her gestures were graceful with habit, and I tried to see if they were familiar to me. Ino seemed to sense my gaze. In the brief moment that our eyes met, I tried to read Ino's emotions while she just stared at me. Then she winced and turned away without a word. I blinked, surprised.

She spoke when the silence in the air got too heavy, but didn't look up. "Everyone should be here soon. Kiba's good at rounding us all up."

Confusion took a backseat as unease kicked in. My past was catching up faster than I was ready to face it. I didn't want to see it anymore; those unknown faces pinched with disappointment and forced smiles. They hurt.

I placed the unfinished bento in Ino's lap, taking her aback. Quietly, I said, "I think I'll go back. I'm tired."

I got up and turned to walk away, but not before I glimpsed her hurt expression. "Wait, Sakura-"

I didn't know what made me stop: the desperation in Ino's voice, or the shadow that streaked over my head. I didn't even have time to wonder, because a green blur flashed before my eyes, and I suddenly found myself suffocated against a burly chest. Above my ear, a choked voice exclaimed, "Shizune-sempai does not lie! Her youth shines even more brightly than before!"

In the next instant, I was jerked away and held at arm's length as a pair of dark, overly-emotional eyes appraised me. "It is good to see you well, Sakura-san! I promised Kami-sama I would train until I could split a mountain with my bare hands if he was willing to let you stay. Clearly, that was unnecessary. Your youth-"

"Lee!" Ino yanked him away by the ear just as I was getting overwhelmed by the newcomer's bizarre sincerity. I blinked at the empty space where he had stood until I found my bearings again.

Ino had dragged him some distance away, somehow managing to look both exasperated and weary. She gripped his shoulders as she addressed him, as if she expected him to bolt, as if she needed the support. Although they were mostly beyond earshot, I could still hear the reverberations of their low tones, and distracted myself by cleaning up the bento.

I glanced back at them after a while, wondering if they would notice if I slipped away. I didn't expect to find Lee looking directly at me, the eyes beneath his thick eyebrows sombre. Nor did I expect him to wordlessly burst into tears.

Two simultaneous thoughts occurred to me as I stood there, shocked. Firstly – that Lee was the 'idiot' Shizune had been called back to treat. Secondly – that Haruno Sakura had been loved.

I stayed. Ino and I took turns comforting Lee. He didn't say anything about my amnesia. Instead, he bemoaned that his emotional weakness was "unbefitting of a youthful man" and attempted to exact self-punishment by dropping down to do a thousand push ups, sling and all. He flailed with protest when Ino easily hauled him back into his seat. I chuckled quietly and pretended not to notice their surprise, the way they pretended that nothing was wrong.

My smile faded, however, when I looked up and saw a group of people hesitantly approaching the bench. Ino followed my uneasy gaze. "Okay?" she asked me, softly.

I watched Lee spring up to meet his friends halfway. Despite his eccentricities, he fit in like an original puzzle piece that knew where he belonged. I closed my eyes. All I wanted was to retreat back to the dark hospital room, the only place where I could feel empty and still feel like I belonged. But something seized inside me when I opened my eyes and saw Ino's encouraging expression, and instead I felt myself nod, "Okay."

Her brow smoothed with relief. "Come on."

Some of them looked like they wanted to reach out to me, some seemed more cautious – but all of them arranged themselves around me, like they were trying to fit me back into their lives. The claustrophobic sensation began to surface again, and I moved closer to Ino. She glanced at me. "Alright, everyone line up!" she called, setting her hands on her hips.

A brown-haired boy with red markings on his cheeks groaned. An Inuzuka, I thought. "What is this, roll call?"

Ino smirked. "Precisely."

It was awkward for all of us. They had to introduce themselves to someone they had possibly known for most of their lives, and watching the futile hope in their unfamiliar faces made me feel even more hollow. I didn't remember any of them; not Kiba, the Inuzuka who didn't know how to arrange his expression when he looked at me, or his large dog Akamaru who tentatively licked my hand; not Chouji, who had a kind smile and offered me a chip; not Hinata, so quiet yet so attentive; not Shikamaru, who yawned his name and communicated everything else with calculating eyes; not Tenten with her cheerful "Present, Haruno-sensei!"; not Neji, whose passive face betrayed no more than resignation; not Shino, who seemed to have as much trouble reading me as I did him; not Sai, who looked like he wanted to say more than "Hag". I memorised their names, faces and characteristics with the fruitless hope that I would be able to recite it all another time, even though I knew this was the only time that mattered and I had disappointed all of them.

I listened to them discuss trivial things. They were all shinobi, I learned. I wondered if Haruno Sakura had been a kunoichi pre-Incident, if she'd only barely returned alive from a mission gone wrong. Did she fear death?

Tenten looked in my direction. "When are they going to let you out of here, Sakura?"

I blinked. Of course. This was a hospital. I would leave this place at some point. And I would go… where? "I don't know… I didn't ask."

"Really?" Kiba shook his head. "That's the first thing you gotta know when they chuck you in here."

"Of course, you know this from countless experiences, don't you, Kiba?" Ino pointed out.

"Oi! What are you trying to say?"

Hinata, sitting closest to me, gave me a small smile. "You look well. I think they will discharge you soon."

Tenten came up between us, leaning across the back of the bench. "And when they do, you can come live with me," she grinned.

"That is not fair, Tenten!" Lee exclaimed.

Kiba withdrew from his squabble with Ino long enough to add, "My doors are open too."

"No, they're not," Tenten, Lee and – to my surprise – Shino disagreed immediately.

"Hey!"

"You'll 'accidentally' walk into the wrong room while she's changing," Ino snorted.

"I will not," he protested indignantly.

Ino pointedly ignored him. "You know what? I think Sakura should stay with me-"

"Hypocrite!"

I was bewildered at first. Distantly, I wondered about my parents, whom no one had mentioned. Had I been disowned, or were they dead? It didn't matter, did it? Watching these people playfully debate what was best for me, with their earnest intentions, somehow made me feel… helpless.

I slipped away in the midst of everything. I took slow steps backwards, distancing myself, until I found myself pressed against a familiar wall. I saw Sai's head turn. He wasn't the only one; Hinata cast worried looks in my direction. I gave her a smile and small wave to let her know that I wasn't thinking about leaving. Even though all I wanted to do was turn and run.

My mind was so muddled, so confused by the love, hope, disappointment and hurt I had woken amongst. Where did Haruno Sakura end, and I begin? No one was giving me the chance to understand what was happening. I let my head fall back against the brick and closed my eyes, wishing I could block out everything just as easily.

I couldn't.

"You don't need to feel obligated, you know."

I turned to see Tsunade standing in the archway beside me, arms crossed and slanted eyes fixed on the scene I had been keen to escape from. She looked fairly composed, to my relief. I stared at her for a long moment, wondering what she was thinking. I decided I didn't need to know. We silently watched Hinata's half-hearted attempts to settle the disputes, wounding up dragged into it as well.

It was nice, their friendship. It warmed me to realise that I had once been sheltered by it and that if circumstances had been different, I would be there laughing with them, ridiculing Lee's masochistic training regime. I wanted them to fill the bleak void in my chest as badly as they wanted me to remember that, once upon a time, they had. But that was too perfect for this world.

I looked over at Tsunade and although she twitched slightly, she managed to meet my eyes squarely. "I think," I said slowly, truthfully, "I need a little time alone."

Because all things take time, don't they?

I was transferred to another room for the remainder of my stay. My new room was positioned above the foyer and its window faced outward to the village, offering a view that I spent most of my time gazing distantly at. Almost every day, I witnessed wounded shinobi being rushed into the hospital, pale faces clenched with pain. I watched them pass beneath my window, and my mind would automatically process their injuries and provide an unsolicited judgement.

The first one was a girl who didn't look much older than me. She was delivered on a stretcher, her teammates limping beside her, calling desperately. I subconsciously knew she wasn't going to make it, and spent the rest of the day convincing myself I'd been wrong, before finally coming to terms with reality: that somewhere in the same building someone was dead or dying, and I'd been one of the last to glimpse their final moments. I felt I was supposed to do something – but that was stupid. What could I do? Still, I ached with helplessness whenever someone was carried past my window, and eventually I stopped looking altogether.

Tsunade checked up on me every morning, just before my breakfast was delivered. She ran abnormally complex tests on me. After regulating the flow of my chakra, she ordered me not to perform any jutsu. That was fine with me. I didn't even know if I remembered any.

One day, I asked her why there were so many casualties. Her eyes flickered to the window as she replied, "Shinobi live dangerous lives, in dangerous times."

"Is there a war?"

"You could say that."

"Is it like the Third Great War?"

Tsunade took a while to answer. "No, it's different. All the nations are on the same side."

Had I been more attentive, I would have realised how bizarre that was. As it was, I was distracted; distracted by the unexpected self-certainty that I was a product of this war – and completely blindsided by the new questions that had been raised by the prospect. What had I been protecting?

I also had trouble sleeping at night. I would lay awake, listening to the soft noises in the foyer below me. The hospital was eerily silent in the dark, amplifying even the slightest sound. If I strained my ears I could even hear conversing voices.

Once, I awoke in the middle of the night to find Tsunade sitting on the floor beside me, leaning against the edge of the bed. I stared blankly at her. Her head was tilted back, close to my hand. Without opening her eyes, she said, "Shizune won't drag me back to finish the paperwork if I'm here."

I slowly sat up. "Aren't you the Hokage?"

"So? A few documents won't save the world, I say."

"But you still have to finish them."

She cracked open an eye and looked up at my face. I wondered what she saw. "You haven't changed," she murmured.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet. A stretcher rolled across the foyer beneath us. After a while, I shook out the blanket and draped it over Tsunade. She went rigid for a second, and in the back of my mind I wondered if Haruno Sakura had once done the same thing. "Aren't you going to go back to sleep?" she asked me.

I drew my knees to my chest. "I don't sleep much."

"Do you want sleeping pills?"

"No, I'm alright."

She fingered the cover. "Do you want to be discharged?"

"Isn't that something the medic decides?"

"Sometimes patients don't want to leave. They say they have nowhere to go."

I drew a shallow pattern on the crinkled bed sheets. "Do I?"

Tsunade pulled the blanket around her, heaving a soft sigh. "Have more faith in us, Sakura. We're trying."

I opened my mouth, then thought better of it. It was just another unanswered question. It couldn't hurt. Maybe, deep down, I didn't want to hear the answer anyway.

I was discharged the next morning. As I closed the door to the room, I was suddenly struck by how empty-handed I was. Shizune had dropped off a set of clothes that apparently belonged to me. It felt kind of nice to finally have something that I fit seamlessly into. I felt somewhat confident when I left – until I stepped into the foyer and spotted Ino, Hinata and Tenten by the visitors' couches.

Hinata saw me first. "There she is."

"Alright, time to go!" Tenten planted her hands on my shoulders and began to steer me to the exit. "We're taking you shopping," she said with a wide smile, in answer to my confused look.

But that only made me more perplexed. "Hah? But Shizune…"

"Was going to walk you home, right?" Ino finished. "Well, that's our job now. We'll deliver you safely. After we go shopping, that is."

I hesitated.

Ino peered at me. "You don't like shopping anymore?"

"I…" My voice trailed off, an unanswered question. I couldn't help it. We had turned into one of the main streets. I'd stared at it for hours from the window but, standing there amidst the voices and smells and people, I found it extraordinarily lively. Like I had taken my first step into the real world.

Hinata noticed the expression on my face. "Why don't we walk around?" she suggested.

Ino insisted we stop by every second clothing store, where she and Tenten would flip through the racks with professional criticism. "What do you think of this, Sakura?" Ino asked while we were in the first store. She held up an elegant, strapless gown with a plunging neckline.

"It's nice. A bit reveal-"

"You never know until you try," she said briskly, and in the blink of an eye I found myself propelled into the changing room, the curtain sliding shut on Ino's devilish grin.

I turned to find someone else in the room, tank top and denim shorts in hand. Hinata hid her surprise well, but not quickly enough. "Let me guess," I said, "I usually don't get tricked into this."

She shook her head with a small, amused smile.

"What about you? Shouldn't you be better prepared?"

"They're very… persistent." She gave a small shrug. "I don't mind. Sometimes they pick something good."

I tilted my head a little. "You're too kind, Hinata-san."

"Just 'Hinata' is fine," she said lightly. I smiled back.

She shed her jacket and after a moment, I pulled my shirt over my head. We both hesitated afterwards. "Want to swap?" I asked after a moment of silence.

She looked at the shorts, then at the dress I was holding. "Yes," she agreed.

They took me through the streets, occasionally drawing my attention to particular places. "That place is good; we always go there for barbeques," Tenten would say. I came to understand that they were not only stalling for time, but also trying to stimulate my memory. It frustrated me a little – they didn't think I was trying? But I couldn't bring myself to knowingly disappoint them, let alone feel angry. They didn't have to be here but they were and, admittedly, doing such ordinary things with them did make me feel lighter.

We had toured most of the village by the time the sun began to set. Ino finally suggested that it was time to go home. I started to feel hungry on the way, and slowed when a savoury scent crossed my path. I located the small stand it was coming from, and looked at it for longer than necessary, studying people's shadows beneath the fabric eaves that read 'Ichiraku Ramen'.

I realised as I was turning away that I was not alone. Hinata had also stopped, but she looked far from hungry. I looked down at her hands, clenched tightly around her jacket. She noticed me after a while. "I forgot to buy something. Why don't you go on ahead without me?" Her smile was forced, her eyes pained. I watched her walk away, feeling like I should do something.

Then Tenten was by my side. Her playfulness had been replaced by worry, and when I looked deeper I saw that even that concern was a mask for sadness. "I'll go with her. We'll see you later, okay?"

"Don't worry, she'll be alright," Ino said after they had left, though her gaze lingered. "Come on."

I let her pull me away. "What was that?"

She glanced at me, and took a moment to choose her words. "That place… reminds us of someone. Hinata admired him… we all did."

Past tense. I didn't ask if I'd known him, if we had been close. It was quiet as we entered a residential area.

"We need to have another girls' day out." Ino said in a brighter tone. "I saw something the other day that I think you'll like. I'll show you sometime."

There it was again. I wondered if she was aware of it, if she was pretending, if she didn't want to believe it.

"Ino, I'm not the Sakura you know," I said quietly.

"So?" She had stopped a few steps ahead of me.

"You don't have to look out for me if it's hard for you. I'm…" I shook my head. "I'm not the same. I don't remember our friendship. Even if you keep trying, I might never regain my memories. Things won't be the same again. It might be easier if you-" I stopped short when Ino suddenly whipped around.

"So?" she said again, louder. "Things don't have to be the same. You're not some sort of object with a price tag – sure, you're a little cracked, but you're worth nothing less. You think we'll just abandon you?" Her eyes were fierce. I felt my own widen. She dragged a hand through her hair, holding her head for a moment. Then, "You don't believe in second chances, Forehead?"

"It's not that."

"Then what? Unconditional love?"

"That's not-" I stopped myself. No. She was right. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. She was right.

I didn't understand it. Why they tried so hard for me. Why they were willing to share my pain, to struggle to reconstruct my world, one that we could all coexist in. It was painful watching them try, to see them taking a moment to compose themselves whenever I gave them a blank look or cringed away from them. Wouldn't it be easier if they just let Haruno Sakura fall out of their lives? But for some reason they couldn't. Or wouldn't.

Ino was staring intently at me when I opened my eyes. "Why can't we start over?" she asked.

I didn't know how to answer her. I looked away, my eyes falling on a rundown apartment block. It wasn't the time to be studying infrastructure but I felt drawn to it. It wasn't a memory; I didn't recognise it. But it stood out to me. I just didn't know what. I pulled my gaze from it. If it was important to me, it would eventually come to me. Like everything else.

"Give me some time," I said. "I can't deal with this when I can't even work out who I am."

A long moment passed before Ino finally sighed. She walked towards me. "You're an idiot," she told me, and took my hand. She didn't let go.

As I had expected, they had thrown a party for me. I was instantly showered with confetti when I let myself into the apartment for the first time. There were no hoots of "Surprise!" – just necessary silence as I stood in the doorway, the boys standing in the lounge, Ino with her hands on my shoulders, and Hinata and Tenten coming up the stairs.

Then there was a metallic clink and all eyes sought out Shikamaru, who had an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and a battered lighter in his hand. "No smoking in my house," I said automatically.

His eyes widened slightly and although he pocketed the lighter with a shrug, I saw something light up in his gaze. Slowly, his lips curved into a smirk. "Welcome home, Sakura."

'Home' was a modest apartment in a quiet neighbourhood, one of the first buildings to catch the sun's early rays. At night, you could hear the sound of running water from the nearby lake. Beyond the lake was a popular training ground for early risers, and if you happened to look out from the balcony at half past five in the morning, chances were you would glimpse Lee bobbing up and down in the distance, somewhere between his three-hundredth and five-hundredth push up. These chances tended to be quite high, for a noisy team of grumbling genins often passed beneath the master bedroom's window at that time every morning to collect the garbage.

Over time small details embedded themselves in my mind, piecing together my surroundings until I could see a pattern, a sense of familiarity that helped me recognise what it felt like to be home. There was a strange sense of comfort in waking in the same bed every day and finding everything in the same place and condition as they had been the night before.

In the same way, I began to acquaint myself with Haruno Sakura. She was an organised person, had a separate basket for whites in the laundry room, liked to read a mixture of medical textbooks and popular magazines, and kept her bills in the same drawer as her mugs, so that she would remember them when she had her morning coffee. I approved of most of her habits and those that I didn't, I learned to accept. It was like discovering a piece of myself every day.

Some things, though, I could not understand. Like the sleeping bags that did not smell like everything else in the wardrobe, and the significance of the photo on the bedside table that seemed to be angled in such a way that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke, and the last before she fell asleep. Compelled by an unexplainable impulse to decode these mementos of my past, I set out one morning with a two-month-old receipt for a pre-ordered book that I had found hidden in the folds of the electricity bill.

I hadn't had many opportunities to go out by myself and although I knew the village well enough, it was somewhat disconcerting to navigate the streets by myself without Ino's running commentary. I realised that I had started getting used to the people who had been – and were again trying to be – my friends. They had dropped by a lot during the first week, often taking me out for group barbeques. It was easy to read their intentions. I even found it excessive and uncomfortable at times. But it had gotten a lot quieter lately as a result of their return to active shinobi duty, and I did my best to keep my mind off the empty spaces by my side as I picked my way through the morning crowd.

I felt comfortable in the bookstore, but that ease faltered a little when the clerk gave me a weird look after I showed him the receipt. I soon realised why when he returned from the storeroom and slid an orange paperback across the counter. "They don't publish these anymore," he said when I failed to procure a suitable response after scanning the cover. "The author passed away, I heard."

"I-I see…" I hesitated. "Are you sure this is what I ordered?"

My gaze seemed to unnerve him. He fumbled for the receipt. "It says here: one copy of Icha Icha Paradise." It did. I lowered my head in defeat. He peered anxiously at me. "Ano…"

"Can I, um… have that in a bag, please?"

I left the store with my head lowered to hide my face, which was burning hotly enough to make the pre-winter chill seem trivial. I managed to convince myself that every villager I passed was aware of the erotic novel I had swaddled under two plastic bags and was trying not to swing around as I walked. There was absolutely no way I would have ordered such a book. What could I possibly do with it? Read it? It couldn't be mine. I must have ordered it for someone else – yes, that was it. And once I uncovered who the culprit was, I would drag them through the village by their entrails.

I was so distracted by disturbingly violent thoughts and repulsive fetishes that I did not notice that someone had been calling me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I started and whirled around rapidly.

"It is you! Geesh, no need to run away from me, Sakura-neechan."

I relaxed a fist I didn't realise I had clenched when I came face to face to a tall young man with a mischievous smile. My heart sank when I saw that he was grinning expectantly at me. I didn't want to say it. But the alternative was too cruel. "I'm sorry. Do I… did I know you?"

He stared at me for a moment that felt too long. Then he rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. "Heh, I forgot. That's funny … You really don't remember me, huh?"

As I shook my head regretfully, I realised that I was waiting for him. Waiting for him to say something, to lead me through. I thought back to everyone I had met, who had moulded themselves for me, and how I'd let them do that. I had been selfish without realising it.

"Maybe you can refresh my memory," I offered with a small smile. He beamed at me.

"Sarutobi Konohamaru – they named this village after me."

I smiled wryly. "I see. Well, they named a flower after me."

He smiled back. "The old – I mean, Hokage-sama wants to see you. I volunteered to fetch you."

That caught my attention. "Tsunade-sama? Did she say why?"

"Nope. Best not to keep her waiting though. She chucks a killer fit."

Although Tsunade seemed to be my mentor, I hadn't been in touch with her besides the occasional medical check-up, and even those had subsided after she determined that I was physically healthy. From what I had heard from Ino, she was tied up with her Hokage duties, and I had instinctive misgivings about the reasons behind her summon.

I pulled out of my thoughts when a moustached grocer called out to Konohamaru and tossed an apple his way. Konohamaru caught it and called out a cheerful "Thanks, oji-san!" When he turned back, he noticed my curious look and explained, "The villagers are grateful to me for lending my name to the village."

I smiled. "Really, Konohamaru."

He cracked a grin. "My grandfather was the Third Hokage. The village knew me as 'honourable grandson'."

We both looked up at the Hokage Monument and regarded Sandaime's stony visage, tracing the jagged fissure that marred his brow. "I hated it," Konohamaru said after a while. I looked at him. We were climbing the Tower's stairs, Sandaime's face looming closer with each step. "I didn't want to be in the old man's shadow. I wanted to earn respect on my own. That's why I'm going to be Seventh Hokage."

We passed through portraits of previous Hokage in the next corridor. "That's my grandfather," Konohamaru said, pointing to a photo of a white-haired man. I found kindness in his hooded, determined eyes, and although I was inclined to close my eyes and mourn his passing, I returned his frozen smile.

"Hey, Konohamaru."

"Yeah?"

"If you're going to be the Seventh Hokage, who is going to be the Sixth?"

Konohamaru stopped so abruptly that I almost jerked off balance in my next stride. I looked back at him, opening my mouth, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. Instead, he strode past and knocked on the door we had stopped in front of. "Come in," came Tsunade's muffled voice.

Konohamaru pushed the door open and stood back for me. I looked questioningly at him but he just gestured for me to enter. Had I said something wrong?

"Don't just stand there, Sakura."

Konohamaru instantly fell away from my mind when I remembered the reason I was here. I also remembered the Icha Icha Paradise book I was holding, and hesitated when I noticed Tsunade watching me. "You called for me?" I asked cautiously.

I cringed when her eyes flickered to the bag, but her attention was swiftly diverted back to me. I felt myself stand straighter under her solemn gaze. She gave me a fleeting smile but the fact that she felt the need to reassure me only reinforced my qualms. So I wasn't surprised when I caught movement in the corner of my eye, and saw that we were not alone. I glanced back at Tsunade but she only motioned for me to sit down.

"Shizune tells me you're settling well."

"I'm doing alright."

She caught my gaze wandering to the man in the corner. "This is Yamanaka Inoichi."

I made the connection. "You're Ino's father."

He smiled faintly. "That's right."

"Inoichi's clan specialises in mind jutsu. He will do a reconnaissance of your mind," Tsunade told me. I waited for her to elaborate but she didn't.

Ino's father settled in the chair opposite me. "I may be able to find out how you lost your memories." Not help me regain them, I noted. "The level to which I will be penetrating will put great strain on your mind. Are you prepared?"

I looked over at Tsunade. Something didn't feel right. Why weren't we doing this at the hospital? I was sick of being left in the dark but, as Tsunade come around the desk to squeeze my shoulder, I decided not to ask.

I nodded at Inoichi. He stood and placed his hand atop my head. I thought he fondled my head for a moment, his callous fingers ruffling my hair, and I closed my eyes. "I'm starting," he said.

My mind was like a cave. I felt nothing but Inoichi's careful steps in my mind. As Inoichi went deeper, I saw flashes of my own memories. I was walking with Konohamaru, entering the bookstore, opening my eyes to the photograph of three children and their jounin mentor. I wondered what they looked like to Inoichi, what it felt like to be me. Were my actions and behaviour normal?

I barely heard Inoichi's murmur of warning before the scenes began to flicker rapidly behind my eyelids, blurring until they faded into a monotonous stream, leaving behind whispers and a slowly escalating drone. I was flying through time, streaking back to the point where it began.

"Welcome home, Sakura."

"Why can't we start over?"

My head began to pound. Inoichi prised away another slab of memories. A burst of pain. I couldn't tell how hard I was clenching my fists.

"That place… reminds us of someone."

"Have more faith in us, Sakura."

"How can you question your existence like that?"

My mind was tearing. It felt like my brain was being constricted into a cluster of pulsing nerves. With each step Inoichi took into my mindscape, my entire body convulsed with painful spasms. "Don't… go there," I managed to gasp, and choked on my own breath. He pulled deeper on the thread of my memories, determined to see the end. I hated him, hated everything. I opened my mouth to scream.

"Don't sleep…"

My eyes snapped open. I couldn't see anything. I panicked. Arms clutched me, lips by my ear. Tsunade. I tried to find her, my fingers claws. Inoichi's hand was burning iron on my head. Getitoffpleaseplease…

A sliver of light at the end. I bolted towards it. A rumbling roar ricocheted off the walls of the dark tunnel. Inoichi suddenly jerked, stumbled, and my head split.

Whiteness engulfed me. I had reached the end. Nothing. I tipped over the edge.

"I'm sorry, Sakura-chan…"

I fell.

I woke to a hand on my forehead. It was cool, a calming agent on my dull headache. It hurt to think.

"How's your head?" I recognised Tsunade's voice; soft, tender in a way that few people could understand.

"Kills." My voice was a rasp. I tasted bile.

Her hand moved to stroke my hair. I turned my head towards the warmth of her body, although the slightest movement sent tiny devils hammering at my skull. "Did you find what you were looking for?" I asked.

A pause. "Yes, and no."

I slowly opened my eyes, then shut them again when light pierced my pupils and blinded me. "Isn't it about time you told me what was going on?"

"There are things you should remember, Sakura, and some that are better off forgotten. It would be easier if you let it go."

I opened my eyes a crack, enough to find the silhouette of Tsunade's face, and squinted until her profile swam into focus. "But they all form a part of who I am. And being me was never easy."

There was silence. Tsunade gazed mindlessly at something I could not see. We were still in her office, on the couch. "You were kidnapped," she said at last.

I absorbed this slowly. "Why?"

"We're not sure. It might have been too good an opportunity to pass. He took you straight from the battlefield. Our best guess is that he wanted bait for someone we had hidden, and knew that you were closest to him. Some things don't add up here, but no one can understand what that bastard thinks." She pulled me closer. As if she expected the shadows to lash out and snatch me. "If we look at it like that, it would make sense… somewhat… that you were tortured for his whereabouts."

I envisioned my medical record. Just thinking of the injuries I had sustained – and somehow recovered from – made Inoichi's painful probe into my mind seem almost trivial. "And?" I prompted.

Tsunade knew what I wanted – needed – to know. She looked down at me. "You would never betray him."

"But I could have." I didn't know where the persistent doubt came from. Was it guilt? Did I feel I needed to be punished?

"You didn't. Inoichi said your mind snapped under the pressure." She exhaled heavily. "We wanted to see if your memories had been forcefully erased. If they had, it meant the enemy had told you something he didn't want us to know."

"Did he?" I had been seeking answers for so long that I could utter nothing but questions. But they barely scraped the surface. I couldn't voice what I wanted to know most.

"No."

"What if he had?"

Her grip tightened on my hand. "Then we would have shredded your mind to find it."

I looked away from her clenched jaw.

"Sakura, don't. I know what you're thinking."

Do you? I wanted to ask, but didn't.

"You're not a tool. Don't feel obliged to put everything before yourself. You're here, now, and that's what matters. Don't think about anything else."

I carefully pulled myself up, ignoring the painful throbbing, and twisted back to look at Tsunade. She watched me steadily. "I'm here," I conceded quietly. "But he's gone, isn't he?"

She didn't say anything, didn't take her eyes off mine.

"He came for me." It wasn't a question. I knew. I knew it before Tsunade said it.

"You would never betray him," she repeated lightly. "But he would never abandon you."

I let myself go, tired. She reached for me, pulled me toward her. I tucked my head into the comfortable space between her neck and shoulder and listened to her breathing. I should have known. Everything fell into place. Shizune was right – how could I question my existence like that? I was here because someone else wasn't. When everyone looked at me, they relived grief for two people.

I should have known.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. But I was no longer the frustrated, naïve girl who had once uttered those same two words as excuses. This time I meant it, and I wanted to repeat those words over and over again, until I found a way to live with incurable survivor's guilt for someone I had never known. Except the pain behind my eyes steadily grew stronger, forcing me to shut my eyes and thoughts.

I felt Tsunade's hand over my eyes. A soft green glow seeped beneath my eyelids. Just before I lost consciousness, I felt her stroke my hair, heard her sigh, "You're both idiots."

"… porn on the shelf, sixty-two books of porn. Take one down, pass it around, sixty-one books of porn – oh, you awake, Sakura-neechan?"

I blearily lifted my head. "Konohamaru…?"

His grin was distinguishable even in the darkness. "Baa-chan told me to take you home. We're almost there."

It eventually occurred to me that the rhythmic movement that was lulling me back to sleep was Konohamaru's stride. I jerked upright, pushing away from his back. "K-Konohamaru, I'm sorry! You can put me down; I must be heavy-"

He laughed into the night. "Not at all. I'm a strong Hokage in the making, remember?" I was hesitant. "Really, it's okay. Just relax. I won't drop you or anything."

I wavered for a moment. My body made the decision for me. Although the pulsing agony had ebbed away, I still felt lightheaded and I wasn't sure I could trust my legs not to buckle. I leaned forward and slipped my arms around Konohamaru's neck again.

Night had enveloped the sky, pulling out trails of shimmering stars. Moonlight illuminated the Hokage Monument, shedding rays on the Third Hokage's strong brow. He looked a formidable foe, agelessly watching over his village.

"Can I ask you a question, Konohamaru?"

"Shoot."

"Why did you want to prove yourself so badly? Why didn't you just let the villagers love you?"

He tilted his head toward the sky, contemplating. "I guess I felt I didn't deserve it. Any one of my classmates could have been stronger, smarter, better. They only respected me because I was the Hokage's grandson."

I digested this. "You were one philosophical child."

He surprised me by laughing. "I wish! I only started thinking like that after I became genin and realised how much I sucked." He shifted his grip on me. "I hated being called 'honourable grandson' because people were just seeing me as someone I wasn't. They respected my grandfather, not me. I wanted to show them that, even though I wasn't the same as my old man, I could still work hard to deserve their respect."

"You'll be a great Hokage," I told him after a pause.

He smiled. "You can bet on it."

We reached my apartment. I carefully slid off Konohamaru's back, stumbling slightly when my feet made contact with the ground. He seemed prepared to deliver me to the door but I shook my head. "I'm alright. You should go home. It's late."

"Are you sure? You look sort of drunk."

"Thanks, Konohamaru." Thanks for teaching me that love isn't unconditional if you earn it.

"Any time." He mock-saluted and turned away.

I had barely taken one step when I heard him call my name, and looked over my shoulder to see him jogging back. "Forgot something," he said sheepishly. "This is yours." He pulled a ruffled plastic bag from his pocket. I stared blankly at it for a moment. Then I remembered. I was painstakingly casual as I took it and thanked him.

But Konohamaru didn't leave directly after. He stood watching me with a slight frown. His face looked younger under the streetlamp. His maturity belied his age, his curious eyes hiding raw experience. The life of a shinobi; forced to grow faster than the others, chased for the rest of their lives by Death on young, agile legs. A familiar photo came to the forefront of my thoughts. My mind's eye swept over the faces of the gangly, masked jounin, the two boys scowling at each other over a smiling girl.

The life of a shinobi, huh?

"Ne, do you know why I want to be the Seventh Hokage?" Konohamaru asked suddenly.

Blinking, I shook my head.

"Because to me, Naruto-niichan will always be the Sixth."

When Konohamaru unexpectedly spun and ran, I watched with vacant eyes as he disappeared into the night like a child in denial. I didn't understand his words, his actions, or why the name lit up like a flare in the dark sky. It pushed aside my mess of jumbled thoughts, demanding attention like an energetic presence. It distracted me, suddenly made it hard to concentrate – and for some reason I let it.

So when I reached my door and began absently rummaging for my keys, I wasn't even in the mind to be startled when the shadows at the top of the stairs bled into a figure, which said in a thoughtful tone, "I was under the impression that women liked to date older men. Am I mistaken?"

I wasn't alarmed by the shadowy figure – but I was stunned when my body developed a mind of its own and lashed out. It pivoted, flexed, and by the time the keys hit the ground I found myself several feet from my original position, pinning a body against the wall.

A breathless silence filled the air, until the flat voice spoke again. "Ow."

My eyes widened when the person shifted and moonlight spilled on a pale face. "Sai? God, don't do that!" I hastily released him and retreated to stare at my hands in stupefied wonder. Muscle memory, I thought faintly, attempting to quench the irrational fear bubbling in my blood. The fear that, for the briefest of seconds, my body had been taken over purely by survival instinct; that if I'd had a kunai within reach my hands would already be slick with blood.

I looked up, dazed, and saw that Sai was perfectly calm. I realised that he was accustomed to it. In fact, his vague satisfaction suggested that he had even been expecting it. I stared. I had just attacked him.

But, a voice in my head murmured, hadn't I, in that instant, moved to blind, practiced adrenaline and reacted with swift, deadly precision? Hadn't something violent stirred inside me?

It's just muscle memory, I convinced myself. Sai was watching me with an unreadable expression. I picked my keys off the ground, came up pretending to be natural. "Firstly – don't sneak up on me like that. Secondly – I am not going out with Konohamaru. Lastly – what are you doing here?"

"Firstly – I would have hidden my chakra presence if I was actually sneaking up on you. Secondly – I read that women are easily attracted to males who chivalrously deliver them home. Lastly – I was waiting for you and have been for the past hour and a half."

I sighed, not even trying to hide my exasperation. I didn't find myself alone with Sai often enough to be able to claim that I knew him intrinsically well. But, as we stood there in the dark sending the ball back and forth, I suddenly felt bold enough to be comfortable with his presence. "What can I help you with?"

"There's no hot water at the barracks," he informed me.

I paused in the process of unlocking the door to blink at him. Did he expect me to go over and fix it?

He stared back. I recognised it, even if it was just a well-disguised flicker in his dark pupils: the look of someone who had forgotten that Haruno Sakura was gone. He sounded almost awkward as he said, "You once hit me for taking cold showers and said I should come to you when there's no hot water."

"Oh."

We stood staring at each other on the landing, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. I gazed into Sai's inky eyes. Stop living in the past, I wanted to tell him, tell everyone. It was suffocating me, these confusing bonds and obligations my former self had left me. After the evening's events, I expected myself to snap.

But I didn't. I felt the bottled emotions trickle down my throat to simmer in my stomach, where they cooled and hardened. I sucked in a breath, collected myself, and opened the door to the apartment. "Come in."

There was a reason why I kept packets of instant food in the cupboard. Unfortunately, the fact that I kept them prepared for times like this, when my thoughts made me susceptible to incinerating my home, completely slipped my mind, just like so many other things that evening. I blinked as if emerging from a trance, momentarily forgetting where I was, and looked around. It wasn't until I raised a hand to rub my eye and nearly jerked the pan into the air that I realised the urgent sizzling sound was the teriyaki, sitting on a fine line between overcooked and burnt.

Cursing beneath my breath, I quickly lifted the pan away and switched off the gas. After failing to unearth clean dishware, I somehow found myself elbow-deep in a sink of soapy water, scrubbing the nearest plate.

"Because to me, Naruto-niichan will always be the Sixth…"

My hand slipped, sending a wave of water sloshing against the edge of the sink. I grabbed a towel to clean up the mess, shaking my head. I had to clear my mind before I summoned a natural disaster in my kitchen. I dried off the plate, tipped the teriyaki onto it and set it aside while I checked on the noodles. Distantly, I registered that the sound of running water had stopped.

Moments after letting him in, I learned that trying to treat Sai like a guest was a waste of time. He knew to wipe his feet before he entered, fetched a towel faster than I could, and was waiting patiently for me to give him the go-ahead by the time I thought to make my way to the bathroom. His familiarity with the apartment coupled with the fact that he had rendered me speechless by pulling a bag of spare clothes out of a drawer in the laundry, made me wonder just how frequently he came up – and why.

I ignored the disturbing possibilities that jumped out at me, trusting that Haruno Sakura had been sensible, and busied myself pouring the noodles into bowls of soup. Having someone else in the apartment was strangely comforting. I was surprised by how naturally the small, insignificant sounds of Sai's quiet footsteps converged with the atmosphere. Looking back, I realised that 'home' hadn't felt complete without those sounds. Even now, I still felt something was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

I finished setting the table just as Sai came in, towelling his hair. "I put your clothes in a bag by your shoes," I told him. I didn't mention the tears and bloodstains I had found in the fabric. The life of a shinobi, I reminded myself.

"Thank you." He cast a look at the steaming bowl of noodles. "Is that for me?"

"You're not hungry?"

He lowered himself into a chair. "I am. I just didn't think you were nice enough, Hag."

"I will kick you out if you call me that again," I scowled. "What did I do to earn the title anyway?"

"I read in a book that nicknames were signs of friendship." I paused with chopsticks halfway to my mouth to check if he was as serious as he sounded. I didn't expect him to be staring at me, his head tilted, like he was expecting something.

"You learn that through experience, not books," I said.

He looked away, his lips curved in a confusing smile, and said in a voice so soft that it seemed like he was talking to himself, "You told me that already."

I was braced for it; the helpless pang in the pit of my stomach that made me glad I hadn't started eating. Forcefully closing my mind on it, I slid the plate of meat in front of Sai. "Eat."

He picked up his chopsticks, then seemed to recognise what was sitting in front of him for the first time. "You made ramen?"

"Yes…?"

"You hate ramen."

I blinked. "I do?"

He nodded. "You always said it was bad to eat it for every meal."

"Well, of course. You need to have a balanced diet. But ramen is okay once in a while. It's not like this is instant or anything… what?" Sai was studying me with a dubious expression.

"Nothing," he said after a pause.

"Eat," I said again, and watched him until he did. As I expected, he was ravenous. After I had calmed myself from the encounter in the dark, I had seen how tired and pale Sai had looked in the light. He hadn't slept properly in two days, at the very least. He looked better now but I still offered him my untouched ramen when he finished his.

He gave me a long look when I told him I wasn't hungry. "Did something happen?" he asked, surprising me.

My mind flashed back to Tsunade's office. "No," I replied without thinking. I could tell he saw right through me, and I didn't even know why I was lying. I had been finding myself in that situation quite frequently as of late. No matter who it was, my first instinct was to say that I was fine. I knew it was only a matter of time before I started lying to myself.

I changed the subject. "You knew your way around. Do... did you come here often?"

"Yes," he said. "We visited and stayed over a lot."

That explained the mysterious sleeping bags. But that was suddenly the last thing on my mind. "We?" I asked softly, despite the alarms in my head cautioning me to let it go.

Sai's dark head came up and he regarded me for a long moment. The unspoken words between us made the air heavy. I thought he wasn't going to answer. He proved me wrong. "Dickless and I."

I tried to find what he had just said absurd and uproarious, but instead I felt my lips form a small smile. Clearly, Sai's words had meant something to Haruno Sakura. To me, he was speaking in an indecipherable code. "Dickless," I echoed.

Sai turned back to his ramen. "I know better now, but to me nicknames will always symbolise friendship – and he will always be an important friend of mine."

I nodded slowly, knowing better than to press the matter, and because, somehow, I already knew who Sai was talking about, deep down in the murky depths of my consciousness.

We sat in silence for the remainder of the meal. I made myself a cup of tea while Sai finished eating – I doubted I would get much sleep anyway – and sat there with my head in my hand, willing the phantom aches in my weary mind away.

Sai's chopsticks clinked against the bowl when he set them down. I opened eyes I didn't realise I had closed. They widened when I saw that Sai had in his hands what I had carelessly left on the table with the keys.

No excuses came to mind. Some part of me even wondered why I was searching for one. Sai simply stared at the Icha Icha Paradise book for a moment that seemed to stretch beyond minutes. Then he turned his unreadable gaze to me. "Do you… remember?" he asked me in a low, tentative voice.

I shook my head slowly. His shoulders seemed to fall slightly. "Remember what?" I asked, but it wasn't out of guilt. I had the sudden need to know.

Sai's face was blank, like he didn't know how to arrange his expression.

"Sai, tell me. Please. "

So he did.

The lake, I learned, was but a basin of time and colours. At dawn it was a golden broth. By midday it was either blue or grey, depending on the weather, but it always bled into scarlet at sundown. It glistened like an inky serpent at night, with the silvery moon at its heart. I spent a lot of time staring at the same view as the days got colder. Everyone was either out on missions or too tied up in their duties, and I often sat on the bed hugging my knees, watching winter sweep into the village. It was my first winter.

One day I woke to find myself swathed in grey light and goose bumps. My breaths left my lips in wisps that trailed away into the chilled air. Sitting up, I parted the curtain and stared at the white world on the other side of the window. The lake was frozen.

I slid open the window and reached a hand out. A flimsy snowflake clung to my fingers. Cold air breathed into the room. Within moments, I was fully awake.

I changed out of my pyjamas, threw on a coat, and was standing in the snow moments later. Someone had already beaten me. I turned my head at the sound of laughter and saw my neighbour's young daughter sitting atop her father's shoulders, reaching happily to the sky. I watched them with a small smile, ignoring the envious pang in my chest. My neighbour eventually noticed me standing there.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said. "It's been years since it last snowed."

"Some people think snow is a bad omen." I didn't know where it had come from or why I said it, and grimaced. But the man just shook his head with a sad smile.

"We don't need omens to tell us how bad things are these days." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hands tighten on his daughter. Everyone had lost something, someone.

My neighbour turned to go back inside and the girl on his shoulders waved to me. As I lifted my arm to wave back, it occurred to me that I really didn't know anything about the world I lived in.

I wandered around the village. Few stalls had opened and most villagers were either staying home or had taken warm refuge in a restaurant. A considerable amount of snow had fallen overnight and my boots left deep imprints on the ground. With the streets uncrowded, I stood out like a dull beacon. Hinata would not have noticed me otherwise.

She was with Neji and Ino and they were all in full jounin attire. Ino wasted no time slinging her arm around my neck and pulling me full circle. "My, my, Sakura, did you put on weight while I was gone?"

I tried to elbow her, but she spun away and hid behind Neji, guffawing behind his back. He rolled his eyes. "I thought you guys were on a mission," I said to Hinata.

"Neji-niisan and I got back two days ago. Ino came in last night."

"And they're sending you out again already?"

"That's the downside of coming back with only scrapes and bruises. We're low on shinobi at the moment. If the worst you have is chakra exhaustion, don't even bother unpacking." Ino looked disappointed. "Maybe I should have gotten banged up a little." When she saw my expression, she chuckled and elbowed me – successfully. "God, you should see your face. I'm kidding, Forehead."

"Still," I said, "you're getting worked very hard."

"Tsunade-sama takes good care of us. We get rest periods after a few missions," Hinata assured me.

"This is nothing." We all looked at Neji in surprise. "The enemy hasn't made his move yet. When he does, pandemonium will break out."

What is he waiting for then? I was on the verge of asking, but Ino chose that moment to shake her head at Neji. "You are awfully optimistic today." Then she whispered something about "Hyuuga genes" and I realised then that she was trying to protect me.

Hinata glanced at the sky. "We aren't due to leave for another hour. Have you eaten yet, Sakura-san?"

I hadn't, so we stopped by a dango shop which I had been told was the one I used to frequent most. They asked me what I had been doing with my time and I found myself building elaborate lies: I spent a lot of time in the library with good books, went shopping, took long walks and ran errands for Shizune. The last was only half false. I had helped Shizune deliver a jug of sake to Tsunade's office, but that was only once and I hadn't seen her since. My friends seemed satisfied and somewhere along the way I managed to convince myself that I wasn't doing a bad thing.

We hadn't been eating for long when Neji stiffened. "Hinata-sama." I looked up and saw that thick veins had traced around his eyes. His look was penetrating.

Hinata turned to the window and we followed her gaze. A hawk with bright tail feathers was circling against the clouds. Ino sighed, finished her dango and they all stood in unison. "Sorry Sakura, change of plans."

I saw them to the gate. A dozen chuunin were already assembled and I watched from the sidelines as my friends each took command of their own squad. Even Hinata's soft voice carried authority.

After they had departed, I stood alone beneath the gates for a while longer. My cheeks stung with cold. As I turned away, my gaze focused on the Hokage Monument, rising historically over the village. I headed towards it, cutting across the village until it loomed far above my head. Then, on instinct, I went around the side and climbed a long set of stairs tunnelled into the rock.

A gust of frosty wind rushed at me when I reached the top. It swept my breath away as I raised my eyes to the village. Despite the curious feeling that I had seen this view many times and had the same impression every visit, I still marvelled at Konoha's beauty even in winter. As I sought out my apartment, Ino's flower shop and the hospital, it struck me for the first time that I had grown up here. This was my village.

I went over to the rails and easily swung myself off the platform and onto Nidaime's hair. Cautiously edging my way across, it didn't even occur to me to question what I was doing until I was standing on a snowy patch on Sandaime's head. I carefully sat down, praying I wouldn't slip. It was hard to explain why I felt at peace. I just did.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed. When I finally thought of leaving, the clouds overhead had thickened into a roiling mass, and my hands were red and raw from trailing in the half-melted snow. Something wet brushed my cheek as I got to my feet. I navigated back to the platform; by the time I had reached the bottom of the steps the rain was well on its way. I hunched in my coat and made my way home in the sleet.

Later that night, I snapped awake when the photo frame on my bedside table clattered to the floor. I sat up and wiped the icy window pane. The rain was falling so hard it was difficult to make out anything but the faintest glow of the moon behind dark clouds. I was convinced I could feel the earth trembling beneath the village, as if rocked by distant shock waves. It was most likely my imagination hard at work. I still waited for it to pass, though. Then I felt around the floor for the fallen photo frame.

It was so dark I could barely see my own hand. But this photo existed in my subconsciousness as much as it did in the frame in my hands, and my mind's eye roamed over the four faces. I studied the jounin in the back properly for the first time, then the pink-haired girl. The girl who smiled brightly as if she knew nothing of the world around her.

I placed the photo back on the table and lay back down. After a while, I reached over and gently flipped it face-down. Then I curled up on my side and pressed the pillow over my ears as thunder growled from the angry sky.

It continued to snow throughout the week, seemingly getting colder day by day. After my laundry began to crystallise on the clothes line, I put my foot down and bunched them into a large bag, which I hauled down to the laundromat. While my clothes were getting flung dry, I stepped out to buy the morning coffee that I had left the apartment without having. There was a stall around the corner run by an old lady and her grandson and although I'd never tried, I had the feeling they made mean lattes.

On my way, I was sidetracked by a scent stronger and more familiar than coffee. There it was again. I didn't make any conscious effort to mark Ichiraku Ramen on my nonexistent itinerary, but it nearly always crossed my path when I walked around the village. I had never been inside.

There was movement in the stall. A woman had emerged from the back, two bags of garbage in hand. She stacked them neatly by the side, then turned and saw me standing in the middle of the street. I didn't even realise I had stopped but that realisation surprised me no more than the woman did, when she stared back at me with recognition. I didn't know her. She bit her lip and took a hesitant step toward me. "Sakura-san…?"

"Ayame! Delivery!" a man's voice called from inside the stand, drowning out the last syllables of my name. The woman faltered, glanced toward the store, then back at me. She searched me with her deep eyes, and maybe she saw that I was straining not to run.

She smiled slowly, tentatively, at me. "Come in sometime. We owe you a lot of meals." And she turned away, called "Coming!" and I left the smell of fresh miso soup behind. The coffee stall wasn't open – Of course not, I thought dumbly in the cold – so I cut a wide circle back to the laundromat, and by the time I was pulling my warm clothes from the dryer it was almost like the encounter had never happened.

Almost.

On any other day, I would have instantly detected something wrong before I even turned the key in the door. Today, though, I left myself wide open to the dumbfounded shock that came with registering that Tsunade was stretched out on my couch – and, from the looks of it, had also ransacked my kitchen.

"Should've known you wouldn't have any sake," she said.

I kicked the bag of laundry inside and closed the door behind me. "Sake isn't good for you," I said, with a note of disapproval. Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Do you need something from me?" I asked.

"A teacher isn't allowed to check up on a student?"

"I didn't mean that."

Tsunade's hazel eyes lingered on me. I felt transparent. "You don't think of me as your shishou anymore, do you, Sakura?"

"I do," I said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

She held me under her gaze for a moment longer, and then she chuckled. Liar, we were both thinking.

"Alright, I lied." I looked up. Tsunade had risen to her feet. "I have a reason for coming. I'm going to give you a mission."

"A mission?" I repeated. "But I'm not-"

"Until I dismiss you, you will always be a kunoichi of the Leaf Village," Tsunade told me. Her voice was firm, final. Like someone bargaining for the last compromise, something that they refused to let change in a world of difference.

I bowed my head. "Hai."

Tsunade's eyes softened. "Let me see your keys for a second."

Puzzled, I fished them from my pocket and handed them to her. She studied each key on the bundle. When she came to a particularly battered key, I said, "That one doesn't open anything in this apartment. I don't know what it's for."

Tsunade looked down at the key. Her eyes grew glazed. Her fingers closed on it, tightening until the chipped teeth bit into her skin and brought her to her senses. Moving decisively, she took my hand and placed the keys in the centre of my palm. "This is a D-rank mission. Find the door this key opens."

I stared at her. She was serious. She was telling me to find a needle in a haystack. "What do I do when I find it?"

"You get paid for completing a mission."

"And after that?"

Tsunade surprised me by smiling. It was the first genuine smile I had seen from her. But it was a sad smile. "I'll let you decide."

She brushed past me, almost like a stranger in the street. I closed my eyes and let my head drop. How much longer could I do this for? Everywhere I looked, anything I said – just by breathing, living and surviving, I was hurting people. The worst thing was, all I wanted to do was run away.

I heard the door open. "I know," Tsunade said.

I looked over my shoulder.

"I know sake is bad for me. I know, Sakura."

I thought I didn't dream. I was wrong. I dreamed every night, the same dream, over and over again. A dream of nothing but cold, pitch-black darkness. Empty.

I realised this because, for the first time, the dream changed. That night, I fell.

"I'm sorry, Sakura-chan…"

I snapped awake. A shiver tingled down my spine and I shuddered, heaving in slow, steady breaths even though I felt calm. I had wound myself into the womb of the blanket in my sleep, and now I peeled myself out of it as I sat up. Beyond the window, the lake was still frozen and old snow matted the ground as a new wave trembled, waiting, in the dark sky. Nothing had changed. Only my dream, and me.

The illuminated figures on my alarm clock told me it was half past three in the morning, an ungodly time to be awake with no notion of going back to sleep. I found my slippers and padded into the kitchen. The world seemed so quiet at this time of day and I winced when I turned on the light, feeling as if I had disrupted the natural order of the world in twilight.

I brewed coffee, which I realised was rather stupid after I had finished two mugs and felt the caffeine lazily waking my mind. I clearly wasn't going to get any more sleep. So I sat there, hands cupped around the mug's residue warmth, and listening to the tick tick of the wall clock. Time had never been so loud before.

I questioned, when I found myself on the quiet streets, why I was walking in the cold. Maybe I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in the semi-darkness of my empty apartment, realising what it was like to be lonely. Or maybe, I thought when I looked up and saw that the lights were on in the Hokage's office, I just didn't want to feel like the only person in the world.

I drew my hand out of my pocket and looked – again – at the keys I had been holding onto. I stopped walking and turned my head to the nearest building; a closed weapon store. I raised an eyebrow at myself and shook my head, slipping the keys back into my pocket. I was not going to go around the entire village trying every lock. I would just have to tell Tsunade I couldn't do it. It was impossible. I hadn't even been able to recognise my own home.

I was gazing at the administration building, wondering if the lights meant Tsunade was still awake, when I was jolted by a tug from within my body. Before I could comprehend it, I was striding urgently down the main street, almost breaking into a run. Magnified by the still village, the chakra presences I never took notice of in the day drew me to the gates.

There was no one there, except for the guards. One of them shook off his drowsiness and nudged the other. I could tell they recognised me but at that moment, I couldn't care less. "They're coming," I told them breathlessly.

"Who?" the one with a bandage stretched across his face asked cautiously. Then his partner nudged him again and they turned to the gate. Bursts of chakra flared on the other side of the heavy doors.

"They know the security seals. They should be ours," the other man said. But his hand still wandered to the tanto sword strapped to his lower back.

Of course they're ours, I wanted to say. I knew exactly who was behind that gate. But I didn't say anything, because there was something wrong and it scared me so much I hoped my indescribable intuition was mistaken.

With one last burst of chakra, the large doors began to creak open.

A shadowy figure took one step into the village and fell down to one knee. The two guards sprang from their post. "Hyuuga-sama!"

I rushed to her. Blood was seeping from a roughly bandaged wound in her side and her left shoulder seemed to hang in a twisted, unnatural way. But Hinata's pupil-less eyes, hazy with agony, still managed to focus on me. "Sakura-san…" She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. "Ino… h-help Ino…"

I realised that two other figures had stumbled through the gate. One of them was unloading a third from his back.

My grip on Hinata, who had fallen unconscious against me, tightened. "Don't move her," I heard myself whisper.

They didn't hear me. They leaned over, feeling for a pulse. Cursing beneath his breath, the bandaged gate chuunin began to lift the limp figure.

"I said don't move her!"

The echoes of my cracked voice resonated in the chilly air. Breathing heavily, I said numbly, "One of you take Hinata to the hospital. You, find Tsunade-sama. Quick."

Four pairs of eyes, two fatigued, two surprised, stared back at me.

"Go!"

"H-Hai!"

When the two gate chuunin had gone, Hinata with them, I slowly rose and dragged myself to the motionless figure in the crimson snow. I knelt and leaned in, my head pulling close to the bloodied face. I could barely feel her presence. "Ino?" I murmured.

My hands hovered over her inert frame. They trembled until I clenched them into white-knuckled fists and withdrew them. What was I trying to do? I couldn't heal her.

My eyes widened.

I couldn't heal her.

"Where is Neji?" I quietly asked the two battered chuunin; all that remained of the three squads I had seen off at this same place last week.

A woman, not much older than I was, raised her head. "Taichou is missing," she said almost inaudibly. "He was buying us time to get away."

I nodded detachedly.

Then Tsunade arrived. She didn't look like she had been sleeping. She knelt down in front of me. "Sakura, wait at the hospital."

I stayed. I stayed and watched Tsunade turn Ino onto her side to expose her charred and ravaged back, watched her pump green chakra into the torn flesh. Watched her brow furrow, listened to her muttering under her breath. Watched when she laid a glowing hand on Ino's chest and pushed down hard, so that the unmoving body shuddered and coughed up crimson. Even after Tsunade lifted Ino like a child and disappeared in a blur, I stayed and let myself be left behind in the red snow.

It was Shizune who met me halfway to the hospital. She draped a familiar green coat over my shoulders, over the smudges of Ino's blood and the wet patches where I had kneeled in the snow. It was warm. I looked up questioningly.

"Tsunade-sama told me to get you," Shizune explained lightly. "She is operating on Ino at the moment."

"Will she be okay?" I sounded like a helpless child, even to my own ears.

"We think so. What were you doing awake so early?"

"I had coffee." Shizune led me inside the hospital. The sounds in the foyer were still familiar from the days I had spent in the room upstairs. My friends had picked me up from this foyer when I got discharged. How much time had passed since then? How much had I changed?

"What about Hinata?" I asked.

"She'll be fine."

I pulled Tsunade's coat around me. "Can I wait for Ino to come out?"

Shizune slipped her arm around me. "We can wait together. But first, we're going to have breakfast."

We ate in the cafeteria. Shizune bought me a bento and let me pick out all the spicy ingredients. Just like Ino had, when she'd decided to befriend a stranger. I had come a long way from the blank girl who could only use apologies as something to hide behind. But some things hadn't changed. I was still running away from Haruno Sakura.

I lowered my chopsticks. I had barely touched my bento. Across the table, Shizune's wasn't even open. She was watching me with a concerned frown. I tried to smile for her but it only made me feel worse.

"I'm not really hungry," I eventually told her.

"Why don't you finish your juice?"

I did. As Shizune cleared the table, I said, "I used to be a medic, didn't I?"

She looked at me in open surprise. "Do you remember something?"

I shook my head. "No. I just felt very useless."

The sterile hallways were identical, so much that I could have sworn I had frantically raced through each one of them that day I had woken in the hospital bed, nameless. I dodged the same, hesitant looks from nurses and medics as they mistook me for Haruno Sakura. It was like returning to the beginning. But back then, I'd had nothing to lose. Now, I wasn't so sure.

The benches outside the closed, grey doors of the operating theatre looked as stony and desolate as the heavy weight in my stomach would, if it had form. So I was surprised when I sat on something soft and warm – and which squealed like a dignified pig.

Which, to my blank surprise, was a dignified pig.

"Tonton!" Shizune scooped up a disgruntled plump pig in a red vest. "What are you doing here?"

The animal elicited a series of troubled squeals.

"I see…"

I watched this puzzling exchange with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Shizune noticed my expression after a while and looked embarrassed for a moment. For a split second, I had a taste of what it felt like to be seen as a stranger, rather than the other way around. "Um, Sakura, this is Tonton."

The pig was staring intently at me with beady, intelligent eyes. It was somewhat unnerving. "Um, I'm sorry I sat-"

"Buhi!"

I instinctively stepped back, tripped on the bench and fell hard onto the seat while Tonton safe-landed on my lap and proceeded to nuzzle me affectionately. I dazedly looked up at Shizune. She half-shrugged with a meek smile on her face. I looked back down at Tonton, who was now curled up comfortably against me. I slowly lifted a hand and laid it on her back. Her ear twitched. I stroked her gently and she seemed to sigh. She was warm. "Hi," I mumbled.

Shizune sat down beside me, and we waited. It was almost eerie, closed in by walls of white and grey, interrupted only by the harsh hue of the operating light. No one came down the hallway. There was no sound.

Tonton began to doze off in my lap. I continued to stroke her. My mind was churning with so many tangled thoughts in an indecipherable emotional language that it began to empty into a pounding headache behind my eyes.

"Shizune?" I mumbled. I didn't know when my head had fallen on her shoulder, nor did I have the strength to lift it off.

"Yes?"

"Did you feel like this too? When I was the one on the operating table with injuries no one should survive from?"

I didn't know if she answered me. My senses shut down one by one. The last things I felt were Tonton's warmth, Shizune holding me close, and falling into a pit of black.

The first thing I saw when I suddenly jerked awake in cold sweat was a pig's snout and Tonton's anxious eyes behind them. She made a small sound when I let my eyes fall shut again, exhaling a shallow breath. The bench was hard beneath my body and it dug into my hip. When my breathing had steadied, I let my eyes roam the bleached walls. The operating light was off, the only audible sound distant echoes. Tsunade's large jacket slid off me when I sat up. Shizune was gone. I was alone.

I wandered down empty corridors with my hand against the wall like I would lose myself in the sterile cage. Tonton trotted by my feet until I heard a squeak and looked over my shoulder to find her staring up a stairwell I had passed. I backtracked. "Up?"

The window on the landing was flooded with light. It was well into morning. Hours had passed since I had dragged myself up for coffee. A part of me wished I had stayed in bed.

It was warm and bright upstairs. The icy goose bumps on my arm began to melt away. Tonton squirmed so I let her down, and followed her. I eventually realised that the sound of low conversation grew louder as we navigated the identical halls. When I sensed that they were around the next corner, my body stopped on its own accord and backed against the wall.

Tsunade's voice. "… getting out of hand… revived Deidara… and Madara is out there… still looking…"

The next voice, a low male's, was clearer. "They will find out soon. Tsunade-sama, are you certain we shouldn't-"

"Yes. He knows where it is now. We don't have time to find another place to hide. We can only stay here and make sure that, when they come, we will be ready. It's all we can do."

"Hai. I think we should also-"

"Wait." A tense silence. "… What are you doing here, Tonton? Where's Sakura?"

I was already gone. The fog in my mind had lifted and I realised that I shouldn't be eavesdropping on a confidential discussion, not when I had remembered why I was here. Ino. I needed to see Ino.

I knew somewhere in the back of my mind where patients with Ino's degree of injuries would be roomed. From there it was a simple matter of matching the name on the door. I was in a daze when I stopped at Room 62. The brass knob was cool beneath my fingers. I stood there for a long moment, until the door abruptly swung open to Yamanaka Inoichi's drained smile. He stood back to let me in, murmuring, "Tsunade-sama said she isn't in a stable condition yet, but she's hanging in there."

Tubes. They caught my eye first. Thick, some clear, some crimson, snaking around the bed, pinching into pale skin and the pulsing veins beneath. As I came closer to the bed, I caught the gentle, barely visible rising and falling of the chest under the thin blanket.

"Hey Ino." I didn't know why I was whispering. Hesitantly, I lifted a hand to carefully smooth down her long, tangled hair, steering clear of the bandages that swathed the left side of her face. Someone had tried unsuccessfully to wash the blood from the blonde strands. I was aware of Inoichi behind me, watching. I couldn't even begin to understand how a father would feel, watching helplessly as his mangled daughter struggled to breathe.

My hands clenched, nails digging into my palm. "You idiot. I told you to be careful… I told you. Stupid pig..."

I didn't realise I was expecting Ino to suddenly sit up, tear the tubes out of her and start a heated discussion over nasty nicknames that Sai would do well to learn from. Only when Inoichi began to offhandedly tell me about his daughter's medical prognosis did it strike me that there could come a day where Ino would no longer argue with me. There could be a day where I wouldn't see Lee training in the early morning from my window; a day where the sleeping bags in my apartment would never be unrolled again; a day where the jigsaw puzzle of my life started to lose pieces.

It terrified me.

After excusing myself, I turned the corner and let myself fall back to the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut. I held my head in my hand, combed fingers through my hair. But my hand was sticky. I froze, staring at the dried blood encrusting my skin. My front was splotched with crimson. It was caked into the fabric. I'd only washed this shirt the other day. I'd never be able to get it out.

I wiped my eyes. Then again, and again, until I could barely see where I was walking through the tears. It wasn't fair. If the price for fleeting happiness that could be taken away at any moment was this unexplainable suffering, why couldn't I deny those bonds? Why do I hurt for accepting them, and hurt more when I try to tell myself I don't need them?

I didn't ask for this. I never wanted or needed to know. I thought I could pretend, thought that I could run. I thought it would be easy.

I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

And suddenly, I was racing through the hospital like I had all those months ago, bursting out into the snow, skidding and slipping in the frozen streets, barely picking myself up. My face stung, tears spilling over and freezing in their tracks. It wasn't fair.

"Tell me, Sai…"

The receptionist stared peculiarly at me when I asked for the room. She had to be thinking that the girl who had run out into the snow and back, dripping with cold, would benefit from a check up for pneumonia and mental sanity. I filled my mind with these ludicrous thoughts as I stood before the door, delaying my entry. I was so cold and numb that the door knob beneath my fingers felt warm, but I had to remind myself that the only way this door would open was if I did it myself.

I clutched the damp book tighter, clenched my jaw. I could feel it; my body was used to this. It had stood in this spot and entered the room countless times. It had gone through the fear of not knowing what to expect, the hope that it would see something it did expect.

Haruno Sakura cried for me to open the door. So for once, I listened to myself.

This time, a gust of frigid air greeted me. I turned my head to the side, wincing as the chapped skin on my face stung. Who had left the window open, and in this weather? I stepped around the flecks of snow on the floor and stretched across the bedside table to slide the glass pane shut. The air in the room seemed to gradually settle and still. It was quiet.

I held my breath to hear his, and watched the slumbering face. If I were to be honest, I was scared. I didn't know this man, and I'd made the mistake of believing I'd never need to.

Something made me avert my eyes – some kind of tug at my chest that suddenly made it unbearable to stand and watch like a whimsical, helpless mannequin. I picked up the clipboard at the end of the bed. He was the Hokage's patient, but as I flipped through the record I came across my own handwriting. I didn't read it all. One look was enough to confirm Sai's words.

I set the clipboard down. Walking around slowly, I took up the seat by the side of the bed. The floor was wet, like the snow had melted off the boots of the person who had been here before me. I studied the erratic hair and felt some sort of triumph as I gazed at the pale face. Then I leaned over and pulled the blanket up to cover the lower half of his face, because for some absurd reason I knew he liked it better that way.

Hovering over him, I couldn't hold it back. "Sensei," I called in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "Kakashi… Kakashi-sensei. Kakashi-sensei." I shook his shoulder gently. I couldn't stop calling him. I wanted him to see me and tell me what I was doing wrong. I'm here, I wanted to tell him.

The whirring of the machines brought reality to me. My hand stopped, trembled, and finally fell away from the inert figure of Hatake Kakashi. I sat back and tried not to look at the machines and tubes that were all that kept him breathing and beating, and reminded myself that it was silly of me to wish for anything else.

I picked up the book. I smoothed down the edges that had mottled in the wet weather, chuckling at the orange cover and its limited edition jacket. "I knew it wasn't for me," I murmured. I opened to the first page. Nine lines in, I was already dismayed. "'Don't say anything. Let me want you'… what a weak man!"

I continued my commentary as I read. Yuuta's confessions to Shizuka had succeeded in thoroughly irking me by page eighteen, but the love polygon was quite intriguing. Whoever had written this obviously had trouble with unrequited love. Yuuta's rival had almost succeeded in seducing Shizuka when I finally realised that someone was watching me from the open door.

"Tsu-Tsunade-sama."

She smirked knowingly at me. "Reading to him?"

"No! Of course not." There was no place to hide the despicable thing. "I was only… only…"

Softly, Tsunade said, "Naruto used to read to him."

I stopped.

"I reckon he just wanted an excuse. They were both so dirty-minded. If not for you, they would have commissioned Sai to draw the scenes by now." She shook her head with fond exasperation. "All good shinobi are idiots these days."

"You said his name." For some reason, I couldn't look at her.

"Hmm?"

"Naruto." My voice was small, timid. I didn't want to say his name. I'd been scared to think about this stranger, afraid that the weight of his life would be too heavy for me. I was such a coward.

"Sakura?" Tsunade peered at me. I realised I was shaking.

I was suddenly so angry at myself. I hated this. "Naruto," I said again. "Uzumaki Naruto. Naruto." And I repeated his name over and over again, louder, stronger, until I could feel the sharp cuticle of my nails through the blanket. The back of my eyes started burning. My throat began to close on those wretched syllables. I realised with a jolt that at that moment, I hated him with all my being. I hated him.

Then Tsunade had me in her arms. I pushed her away, angrily dashing tears from my eyes. "Don't! Don't touch me-" I wrestled out of her grip only to have her seize my other wrist. "Let go-" Because I wanted to run away again. I couldn't stand to be in the room anymore, with a brain-dead man, a broken woman and the omnipresent ghost of my saviour.

Tsunade grabbed me with unbelievable strength. She pulled me into a tight embrace and held me there, even when I struggled and tore at her fingers. She held me fast, somehow managing to free a hand to stroke my hair. "It's okay, Sakura," she murmured, and her voice was thick. "It's okay."

I continued to beat feebly at her strong arms. "Let me go," I moaned. "I don't want to be here…"

"I know. I know. He was always like that. He'd do all these things for other people, convinced it was right, and never think about how his stupid actions will make them feel." She swallowed, tried to chuckle. "That's how he was."

"I hate him…" I had my face buried in Tsunade's shoulder. She continued to run her hands through my hair, not letting me go. I couldn't do this anymore. I clutched her, so hard it had to hurt. But she still didn't let go, and by that time, I had.

I'd guarded myself so carefully, but now I was raw and exposed. The gates were open. The tears wouldn't stop. Enough. All those months. All the confusion, loneliness, guilt, regret – love. Enough already.

I cried so hard my chest burned. I couldn't see. "I want to tell him I'm sorry," I choked into Tsunade's shoulder. I swallowed painfully. "I want… I want…"

She responded by squeezing me even tighter. "It's okay," she whispered again, like a mantra. "It's okay."

No, I wanted to tell her. It wasn't okay. It wasn't. It wasn't okay that a boy I'd never seen, never known and never would, felt more real to me than everyone who had been by my side from the beginning. It wasn't okay that his name alone could pull me into a world where all I wanted was to be him, because he would know what to do. He wouldn't stand here and let a grieving woman comfort him while he fell to pieces, hating and crying for a selflessly stupid stranger. Even now, I was waiting for him to save me. I was pathetic.

If I could meet him, I would hit him. I would make him understand what it was like to be the one left behind, to feel guilty for each breath and not be able to apologise or pay back what couldn't be replaced. I would do all this while trying to find the words to thank him for giving me the chance to laugh, to cry, to love, to be loved. To be alive. I swear I would. If I could meet him.

It wasn't okay that all of this felt so real that the mere thought could make me chuckle and choke on my tears. But it was, it could, and I did. And all I could do was cling to Tsunade, and cry.

"That's strange. She said he would be here…" I looked back at the empty compound. The silence unnerved me. I could see why he would be out. No one would want to be here. It was devoid of all warmth and life; the kind of place filled with nothing but unforgettable memories.

I wandered back to the main street, slipping back into the noise and bodies. I studied the map in my hands, as if expecting it to light up and reveal his location. Just to be sure, I flipped it over. I blinked, wondering if Tsunade had realised the monthly budget was missing yet. She had drawn the map for me when I'd told her what I wanted to do. It had taken me an agonising week to reach a conclusion, so I was stunned when she didn't even try to change my mind. "You always do the right thing. Most of the time," she'd said, waving away my doubt. I was sure she was wrong but I didn't say anything.

Right now, the map wasn't of much use to me anymore so I folded it in half and pocketed it. I stopped to think for a moment, and that was when a hand landed on my shoulder.

"Good morning, Sakura-san!" Lee shouted exuberantly. He didn't seem to notice that I'd been on the verge of pivoting and throwing him over my shoulder. I grimaced, because I actually had thrown him over my shoulder a few days ago, when he'd appeared from nowhere to bring me good news I'd been in dire need of.

"Please, Lee, I told you not to sneak up on me."

He beamed. "Of course," he said, but I knew he would do it again. It amused him for some reason. While I had stood dumbstruck by what I had just done, he had sprawled flat on the hard ground and laughed loudly to the sky. It might have had something to do with Neji being found floating down the stream where housewives did their washing, clutching a plank of charred wood which immediately crumbled when they hauled him out. He'd suffered second-degree burns and a heavy concussion, but days later he was already well enough to be mortified by what an undignified entrance he'd made. No one but him cared.

"Did you just see Neji?"

"Yes. He was arguing with the nurses about getting discharged. Tsunade-sama says he needs another week." Lee sighed, but it wasn't one of worry. "Such dazzling youth... I expected nothing less of my eternal rival!"

I smiled. I'd learned not to think too much and to accept things the way they were. I didn't think I would be able to understand Rock Lee even if I tried, anyway.

"Are you going to see Ino-san and Hinata-san?" he asked me kindly.

"Tenten and I saw them this morning. Hinata is going home tomorrow."

"That is great news." His earnest smile dropped slightly. "Too bad Ino-san…"

"She'll wake up," I said in a confident tone that surprised me. It was about time I learned to believe. "She'll wake up when she gets tired of waiting for her Prince Charming to kiss her."

Lee grinned. Hesitating, I returned it. That made his smile widen impossibly, and somewhere deep inside me a thick knot loosened slightly. It would never release me but, bit by bit, I was starting to feel like I could breathe again.

After we parted ways – Lee was still determined to crack a mountain with his bare hands – I turned around and retraced the steps I'd taken earlier that morning. It was just a feeling, but I thought he might be there.

He was. He was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, the same one he had occupied when I'd seen him arguing with Ino that day. I felt someone watching me as I approached him. ANBU. Two of them. I couldn't see them but I knew they were there, and he did too. It didn't stop me from planting myself directly in front of him.

"Are you Uchiha Sasuke?"

He didn't move. His head was lowered, resting in his hands. I couldn't see his face.

"Hello? I'm talking to you."

He continued to ignore me. Eyes narrowing, I crouched and put my face directly in his life of vision. I faltered when he stared right at me, eyes so dark and penetrating. I knew it. I knew those eyes. Even before I'd seen the photo, I had known him.

Don't sleep…

"Sasuke." He regarded me steadily. It took most of my willpower not to break the intense stare. "You know me, right?"

A thin eyebrow arched towards his hairline. He didn't say anything. Of course he knew me.

I decided to cut to the chase. Not only because I knew that was what he wanted, but because I didn't know how long it would take me to muster the strength to say it again if I missed the opportunity now.

"I want to take Kakashi-sensei off life support."

I thought I saw his eyes flicker. Cautiously, I continued. "I thought I should ask your opinion. He's, well, he's your sensei, too. I just… think it's time to let go."

Still, he remained silent. But he did look at me differently, like he was reading me.

"I know you visit him," I added, like it would make a difference. This wasn't working. Somehow, I had known this would happen. Still, it didn't make it any easier. Maybe I had imagined the boy who had held me and tried desperately to keep my spirit in my broken body.

I took a deep breath. "Sai told me. Naruto-" There. Another flicker in the dark orbs. "-didn't let them turn it off. He thought… I… Sakura… would come up with a way to save him. Maybe she believed it too. Maybe she knew it was impossible and tried anyway." I paused. "But I can't do that. I can't make myself believe he's not a shell, because I know that even if he wakes up, he won't be here. We can't – we can't bring him back." It was getting harder to swallow. I had to look away, finally, because my eyes were stinging and I didn't want him to see. I was losing it, even as I did my best to contain myself. "That's why – we need to… we can't…"

"Do whatever you want."

My eyes widened. Numb, I sank back and let my head slowly fall forward to rest against his knee. I ignored the way he stiffened. "Okay," I whispered.

"Can you get off me?"

"No." I turned my head to gaze up at him. He was scowling at me. "Don't be a jerk. Give me this, at the very least."

He looked surprised. I realised then that my cheeks were wet. His lips twitched, and he looked away. I didn't know how I knew, but it struck me that this was so typical of him.

This was surreal. We were the children from the photo. We had laughed and scowled at the camera, and I was certain we had been through a lot to be here now, together but different, alive but not whole. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, so many things I was certain only he knew. But I knew that if I opened my mouth now I wouldn't be able to keep myself from sobbing into him. I was such a mess.

Overhead, Sasuke let out a sigh. It was a tired sound.

I wiped my eyes. I found my voice, not caring that it was hardly better than a croak. "Sasuke?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

He was silent for a moment. "I didn't save you. It wasn't me."

I closed my eyes. "I know," I said quietly. "But you heard me. Maybe he did too." Then I smiled at him.

He raised his eyes to the vast blue sky. "Maybe," he echoed, and that was enough for me.

"Alright then – let's go!" Summoning a burst of energy, I shot up and grabbed Sasuke's arm, pulling him to his feet before he could say a word. He grunted. "Let's not keep Sensei waiting."

"Because he didn't make us wait at all," he grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"You're annoying."

I stopped dragging him and turned around to face him. He stared flatly back at me. I raised an eyebrow. "And I'm proud." The look on his face made me laugh, even as he shook his head.

We lived in a cruel, ugly world, haunted by things that could never be forgiven. Sometimes it broke you. Sometimes it brought you down just to let you climb back up for a second chance. Sometimes the only thing you could do was hold on to everything that was real and keep smiling, even if it meant forcing down the tears rising in your throat.

Because at the end of the day, we are alive, and we are here.

AN: Wow, you made it! Good job!

So. Why is it so long, you ask? The answer: just because. Right from the start, I knew this wasn't going to let me break it up. In fact, I'd planned to get the entire story done in one chapter but as you can see, things didn't go according to plan. I was not going to stand a 40K baby. That's why I'll break it up into two (or three - most likely two) chapters. I wouldn't be surprised if you thought this was the end of the story. I did (unintentionally) write this chapter in such a way that it could almost stand on its own. Maybe it's because I don't know when I'll be able to write the rest of it, which I haven't started on, or if I'll get stuck in a big plot hole I dug for myself. I'm hopeless in that department.

To put it simply, I have no idea when the next chapter will come out - but I do hope you found this chapter worth your time. I'd be really interested in what you thought of it. Thanks for reading - and surviving it!