Part Two

"There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place

And there is no time like the present to drink these draining seconds

But seldom do these words ring true when I'm constantly failing you

Walls that we just can't break through until we disappear

So tell me now

If this ain't love then how do we get out?

'Cause I don't know"

— Savior (Rise Against: Ghost Note Symphonies vol. 1)

"People become stronger because they have things they cannot forget."

— Senju Tsunade


Chapter 10: Poker Face

She pressed the point of her pen down too hard. Ink bled, then smeared in the middle of her failed attempt to finish a sentence.

In-between emergency surgeries and sorting through her archive notes, Sakura spent her overnight shift drafting an apology to Naruto. She sat at her desk and wrote letter after letter, scratching through half as many lines as she put down. Journaling was something she did often before the war, pouring out every errant thought; writing to someone else, though, was another matter entirely. Especially when so much depended on finding the right words.

She dropped her pen, muttered an incoherent complaint, and flexed her cramping hand. How many times, during their academy training and all the years after, had she been quick-tempered and mean? Especially once they were assigned as Team Seven, when she was so focused on getting attention and approval from Sasuke. She always shoved Naruto to the sidelines, never caring how lonely it must have made him. How lonely he must have been from the start.

Not to mention what she'd said during the war, when she tried to convince him to forfeit his determined pursuit of bringing Sasuke home. How she tried to convince him. Her cheeks burned, remembering her pitiful attempt to tell Naruto that she'd fallen in love with him instead.

There was more than one outburst, more than one day, to regret.

By the time dawn arrived, slowly in streaks of lavender and gold, then all at once, crowning the horizon in pale blue, she had no sure plan and a wastebin full of crumpled papers.

Someone tapped on her open door with two swift knocks, then entered. "Before you go, here's the first floors' charts. Iko is almost finished with the ICU patients."

"Thank you, you can leave them h…"

Sakura scanned her large oak desk— ordinarily cleared off at the end of each shift and free from clutter, it was now full to the brim with color-coded files and annotated notes— and found no clear path for the charts.

"You know what," Sakura started, swiveling in her office chair to face the sofa. "Just put them there. I'll review them now, then head out."

Mika paused, despite the heavy stack of charts she kept clutched to her chest. She eyed the folded blanket atop the creaseless pillow on the sofa's edge.

"Did you get the chance to rest?"

Ordinarily during a double shift, the critical care staff took naps between unplanned surgeries and any other emergencies. But Sakura had been late; she'd slept enough.

She stood up with forced ease and took the charts from Mika, holding the armful as though it were light as one folder. She transferred them to the cold couch.

"No, but I'm alright," she promised.

That wasn't entirely true. She'd spent the night ignoring what she referred to as the terrific trifecta: a headache, stomach cramps, and nausea. An inconvenience, but not an illness.

Mika nodded, none the wiser. "Well I'm off in an hour, holler if you need anything!"

"I should be set. Thank you, Mika."

"Of course." Mika paused again, her eyes wandering to Sakura's full desk and overflowing trash. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you have time for a side project?"

It sounded like a compliment though, and Mika followed it up with a short laugh, so Sakura kept it simple and smiled back. Better than explaining that her side project was a comprehensive, self-initiated study into Konoha's mortality and morbidity rates.

"Ah, well, I don't."

On that note, she needed to finish up quickly and get going. Despite his responsibilities to oversee the village's reconstruction, Tenzō had promised to train her every morning. Considering she already accidentally destroyed half of the beautiful grounds he built, it would be rude to also be late.

Besides, she didn't have Sasuke's inherited power or Naruto's kyuubi chakra reserves. It would take her years to master chakra nature. She couldn't afford to forfeit a single moment of training if she wanted to catch up.

Mika left with her easygoing smile, and Sakura dropped hers. She swiveled back to her desk, littered with incomplete and inadequate letters. Given how promptly she needed to audit the Emergency Department charts before meeting Tenzō, Sakura tossed them all into the trash.

On a fresh page of paper, she hurriedly wrote a single line. Naruto would never see it, but that didn't matter. She tattooed it onto her heart.

.

.

Tenzō meant what he said. He was honored that Sakura asked him to train her on earth chakra nature, just as he'd been when she trusted him to bring Uchiha some food in prison. If he had any doubts about how fully she'd welcome him onto the enigma that was Kakashi's team, this proved he'd earned his place as far as she saw it. There was one problem, though: one unavoidable, inordinately complicated, senpai-sized problem. Sakura hadn't asked her old sensei, the more logical choice, and for some reason, Tenzō knew better than to tell him.

There were ordinarily no secrets between Kakashi and him. While this wasn't technically one, the longer Tenzō procrastinated in mentioning it, the more it essentially became one. And essential was more important to Kakashi than technical.

Sakura had been a spectator when Naruto trained to split the waterfall, and Tenzō had the feeling she'd read every scroll and book the Konoha library had to offer on chakra nature: she hardly needed any instruction.

Using the chakra reserves of her Yin seal, Sakura made two clones to triple the benefits of her practice time. From the moment she arrived to the last second she could spare in their allotted time, Sakura never broke focus. If she had a question or need for clarification, she came prepared with it and asked at the start. Then, there could have been a shrieking, siren alarm, a tornado spinning down from the sky, and he doubted she'd lose concentration.

Really, it was more than just an honor, but a humbling experience. The Hokage's apprentice had asked to be trained by him. After his failure during the war, letting himself get kidnapped, tortured, and extorted for intel that was used against fellow Leaf and Alliance shinobi with dire results, being selected to train Sakura was perhaps the greatest privilege of his career. Especially one spent entirely in the shadows.

If only he could ignore the tinge of guilt that kept creeping into his consciousness.

Though Tenzō had never been tasked to lead a team, with his chosen name or under any of the other names assigned to him, he'd spent plenty of time leading drills and grilling ANBU recruits. In all those years, out of hundreds of shinobi, he'd rarely seen someone so determined. Whereas Naruto's grit made him reckless and hot-headed, Sakura was equally unrelenting but controlled.

Perhaps she was used to failure in a different way than Naruto. She didn't let every failed attempt and unfruitful session frustrate her. She expected it. And since she expected to fail, failure didn't faze her. It fueled her.

As their hour came to an end, Tenzō regarded her fatigued state. Drenched in perspiration and panting from exertion, Sakura brushed away the pastel hair that stuck to her chin. She directed herself through a set of cool down stretches. No, there wasn't much Tenzō could offer her by way of teaching, but he was grateful to be included all the same.

He subscribed to an unspoken rule that prevented him from meddling, but in this instance, he decided to brush it aside.

"Kakashi would be proud of you."

Sakura toweled the sweat off from her brow, then the base of her neck. Too late, Tenzō understood the casual maneuver was a cover for the time it took her to calculate.

She didn't take the compliment. In fact, she turned it around on him.

"Are you worried about him finding out?"

In situations that required him to mask his thoughts, Tenzō wore one. In his home village, standing on a training ground made by his own hands, talking to a sixteen-year-old girl: it shouldn't have been a high stakes conversation that required one.

He wasn't prepared. He couldn't hide his surprise from her.

Sakura didn't wait for his response before barreling on. "I'm sure he won't care."

Care, she said. Not mind. As soon as Tenzō noted the distinction, she offered him a placating smile. "But you do. I'll make sure to mention it at our next dinner, if you want me to."

"That's up to you, Sakura," he assured her.

Exhausted, Sakura's shoulders rolled in something of a shrug as she tossed her towel onto her pack. Tenzō figured that was the end of that.

Since it was nearer to him, he plucked her untouched water bottle up from the ground. Ignoring the pungent tang of grapefruit or some other bitter fruit she'd infused with it, he stepped forward and offered it to her. Despite his earlier protests, she hadn't taken a single break. Even now, her clones continued to practice behind her.

When Sakura caught his eye as she reached for the bottle, he expected a nod or for her to thank him. Instead, with the start of a smile and keen eyes, she spoke like she'd had an afterthought.

"Unless you'll see him sooner and want to tell him yourself?"

"Oh— …" After a brief delay, his hand dropped. "Oh, well, I might."

Sakura took the water and cradled it to her chest, watching him with sugary sweet consideration. He saw the shine in her eyes, though.

Hook, line, and sinker. She had caught and reeled him in effortlessly, as though he were a clueless genin and not a seasoned operative. Later, in guaranteed privacy, he knew he would replay the exchange and groan aloud at his carelessness. In all but words, he confirmed that his relationship with Kakashi was perhaps more than that of old colleagues who only saw each other during assignments.

Apparently satisfied, Sakura took a long swig of infused water. Tenzō used it as a chance to collect his thoughts.

People in the village saw her seal and her strength and made the lazy conclusion that she took after Tsunade. But the Godaime was a notoriously bad gambler who lost every bet, and Sakura had a poker face second to one. Her casual body language and aloof smile, all of it a cover for the precise timing when she spoke, a mask to hide her waiting, watchful eyes. That was all Kakashi.

Her clever antics. Her impenetrable focus. Tenzō had to wonder if she realized how much she took after him. If Kakashi knew it, either.

"Hey, kid."

She finished the rest of her water with a gasping breath. "Hmm?"

He had nothing else to hide. "I'm proud of you too."

Sakura stared at him, slow to reach an understanding. Then she grinned, a smile that put her sleuthing one to shame.

Honored, she bowed to him. "Thank you, Tenzō-sensei."

She lifted herself up, and at the same time, released the clones still practicing behind her. Tenzō watched the sudden poof as each of them disappeared with the tell-tale white cloud. He missed it when the real Sakura stumbled, then fell.

He surged forward, but it was too late. She lay unconscious in the dirt.

.

.

.

There were only so many ways that Sasuke could retaliate in a manner that wouldn't violate the terms of his probation. Unwilling to spend another night on the rooftop, he kept inside of Kakashi's house and did every chore that he could possibly contrive. If Naruto decided to show, he had no intention of giving him the time of day. He certainly wouldn't give him the impression he'd been waiting for his arrival.

Sasuke scrubbed baseboards, dusted ceiling beams, and pulled out appliances to sweep and mop behind them. After Kakashi's abrupt departure, the ninken kept their distance, muttering between themselves, too low for Sasuke to understand them. Whatever it was they thought of him, he couldn't care less to hear it.

When Naruto came barreling through the front door without bothering to knock, Sasuke was preoccupied with pulling out all the dishware from the kitchen cabinets to better reach every crook and cranny.

"Uh, smells good in here," Naruto said by way of greeting. "Very lemony. Very clean."

Sasuke had to disagree. Naruto evidently brought take-out; already, the kitchen reeked of hot, salt food and cheap plastic.

"It did, before you brought that garbage."

Sasuke didn't turn around to greet him but continued to remove glassware from the back of the top shelf.

"Well if that's how you feel, then I'll keep all the garbage for myself. Especially the tomatoes. You know how I love my tomatoes."

Sasuke ran through all his retaliatory options but came up short— again. So, he said nothing, and instead of accepting any food, started to wipe down the inside of the cabinets.

"Aw, come on." Naruto was snickering through his plea, though. "You're not mad about your quality time with Sai, are you? He told me about that."

Sasuke very briefly thought about shucking the wet rag at Naruto's face, but decided against it. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"No, it's not that," Naruto guessed.

The scraping on the tile floor and banging on the counter told Sasuke that Naruto had pulled the bar stool out to take a seat.

He briefly wondered what kind of tomatoes and from where, then refused to think more about it. He'd had a light lunch, as the onslaught of the take-out's aroma seemed to remind his empty stomach.

"You're upset I didn't come over last night," Naruto concluded, no doubt with a shit-eating grin and proud chest puffed out.

A lifetime in Oto wouldn't have been enough time for Sasuke to forget how to ignore Naruto's attempts to provoke him. Sasuke was plenty practiced and well-prepared to continue ignoring him this evening.

"You missed me, didn't you?"

Sasuke scrubbed the back of the cabinets.

"Come on, just admit it, bastard. You missed my wonderful company and hand-delivered, quality free food."

Sasuke wiped down the inside of the cabinet door.

"Whatever, you don't have to say it," Naruto huffed. "I know you missed me. It's not like you had anything better to do."

The shuffling of paper bags and plastic containers told Sasuke that Naruto was unpacking their food.

"I bet you sat on that rooftop and waited for hours."

Sasuke spun around, flinging the wet rag at Naruto with all the strength that he possessed. It smacked straight into him, landing with a wet squelch.

Naruto caught the rag to his chest with a strangled shout. Then, he laughed. And laughed. Soon, he was laughing so hard he toppled over from his spot on the barstool.

Sasuke looked on blankly while Naruto doubled over, not bothering to control his amusement in the slightest.

"Oh man," Naruto wheezed, and gripped the counter's edge with one hand to pull himself up. "I must've hit the nail on the hea—"

His mocking words died on his tongue. He studied the ugly bruise that discolored the side of Sasuke's face, a nebula of nightshade purple, blue and black.

Unwilling to hide or backdown, Sasuke was left with nothing to do but meet Naruto's pensive stare and dare him to share an ounce of pity. Thankfully, Naruto finished his evaluation without commentary.

He gingerly tossed the rag back to Sasuke, dispelling the tension. "Wanna talk about it?"

Sasuke threw the rag into the sink. "No."

Naruto didn't listen. "What happened?"

Sasuke assiduously returned to ignoring him. He rinsed out the rag, washed and dried his hand, and then collected two plates, two bowls, two spoons, and two sets of chopsticks.

Naruto let out an exaggerated huff of disappointment. "Right, got it. Not the type to talk about your feelings."

By now, they'd established an unspoken routine. While Sasuke set the countertop as though it were a formal dining experience, cloth napkins and all, Naruto pushed the other barstool over to Sasuke's side and snatched two glasses to fill with water. Once they were seated across from each other, they took turns reaching into the take-out bag to unpack the containers.

Of course, Naruto couldn't let it go. He dumped the ramen noodles into his bowl.

"Was it Sakura?"

Sasuke briefly but deliberately glanced at Naruto. His bored glare spoke for itself.

Naruto laughed weakly. "Right. If Sakura did it, you wouldn't have any teeth."

Sasuke reached for the cherry tomatoes Naruto brought, fresh from the produce market instead of oversalted from a restaurant.

"If Sakura did it, I wouldn't have a head."

Naruto's grin split his face wide open, but it just as quickly shifted into a grimace. "Kakashi, then."

"Just a spar." Sasuke hoped the steel in his tone was sharp enough to stop any further questions.

"Just," Naruto mimicked.

But he must have been hungry, because he poured the ramen soup into his noodles and dug in, as frantic and feverish as always.

Loathe as Sasuke was to admit it, the casual dining in the relative comfort of Kakashi's quiet home had become a staple of his routine. A necessary distraction after spending all his time sequestered within the same two-thousand square feet. Slowly, over the course of their shared meal, his irritation ebbed away.

Despite coming over with jokes and junk food, Naruto was somewhat subdued. After greedily consuming one bowl of ramen, he didn't rush to pour another. Instead, he picked here and there at the seaweed salad stationed between them.

If seaweed counted as a vegetable, then it was the first time in Sasuke's life he saw Naruto consume one willingly outside of a ramen bowl.

"Where were you?"

Naruto lifted his head. "Last night?"

"No."

"Oh." Naruto flushed, but went back for another bite of seaweed.

"Training on Mount Myoboku. After Pain killed Pervy Sage— you know, the sannin Jiraiya— I went there to learn sage mode."

If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to defeat Pain. Sasuke was certain of that much.

"We had it planned, though," Naruto explained with a frown. "We knew the Akatsuki were coming after me for the nine-tails, but I needed time to master sage mode. One of my summons stayed in Konoha. Kosuke was supposed to bring me back if Pain showed up to attack the village. But he was killed. I found him, later. A knife through him."

Naruto's anger bled through his retelling, his mouth pursed into a hard line.

That meant someone on the inside killed Naruto's summon. Sasuke wiped his mouth. "Who?"

Naruto's throat worked. He stared at his empty bowl. "Can't know for sure. We think it was Danzō."

An immediate rage surged through Sasuke. The grotesque collection of unblinking red eyes, the stolen Sharingans displayed on every inch of his skin: a crime just as severe as mandating the slaughter of his clan.

"I killed Danzō."

He wasn't sure why he said it. Naruto already knew. But there were nights when the terror of his dreams jolted him upward and left him gasping, and on those nights, recounting Danzō's final moments was the only way for him to force air into his lungs.

Naruto might have drawn comfort from it too. He picked up his near-empty water glass and dipped it in salute, then drained the rest of it. Before speaking again, he rocked the glass back and forth on the table, fidgeting.

"They only attacked the entire village because of me. Some sort of strategy to cause mayhem, making everyone afraid enough that they'd give me up. But no one sold me out. Not a single person in this village told him where I was. They were tortured, because of me. Died— because of me."

Without saying it, Sasuke knew he was thinking about Kakashi. About everyone Sakura had spoken on yesterday. Do you know what it's like to watch? To see them all bleeding— dying— right in front of you?

Another one of her cries Sasuke could do nothing to stop from replaying in his head.

Naruto sighed, drawing him back to the present.

"When I got back, I didn't even recognize it. I mean, I didn't think I was in Konoha… But I was in sage mode, and then I could feel everyone's chakra."

Naruto forfeited his attempts to eat. He tossed his chopsticks onto the counter.

"Sakura was right. I was late. By the time I got there, I knew who was dead. I wasn't there when it happened. I wasn't there when— … I wasn't here when they died."

Sasuke knew about returning home to a massacre. About being too late.

He folded his napkin with one hand, and instead of remembering his slaughtered clan, thought of Sakura's broken hand in his, surprisingly soft for a kunoichi.

Sasuke jostled the napkin loose, then started to fold it again.

"You used to act the fool to get everyone's attention, running your mouth about becoming the next Hokage so that one day, the village would be forced to accept you." Sasuke paused with this thumb on the inseam. He was far more comfortable with insulting Naruto than commending him. "You had it wrong. Now that they acknowledge you, they'll choose you."

Naruto's eyes widened, brightened into an ocean of blue wonder. "Your— your brother told me the same thing."

Nii-san.

Sasuke froze, hand slipping away from his napkin. For the longest time, other than exacting his vengeance, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Itachi. He swore to bear no connection to his brother, so much so that when he was younger, he strove for any power other than the Mangekyō.

Yet things had changed, the once sturdy foundation of his purpose and plans shifted into sand. Hearing Naruto mention a likeness between him and Itachi plucked at something deep within his chest, some sensation Sasuke couldn't name. Something that allowed him to breathe in and out more evenly.

He reached for the napkin's corner, but before he knew it, the cloth was cradled in his fist. "If I had been here—..."

Surprised again, Naruto managed to recover more quickly, a swift wind spun into a new direction. The ferocity and focus he brought with him into battle.

"You're here now," he said firmly. "And as far as I'm concerned, the real threat hasn't been dealt with."

The elders. The two who sided with Danzō and sanctioned the massacre.

He couldn't talk about that. He couldn't think about that. Sasuke could hardly breathe when he did, a rage so pure and primal, it tore through his soul to strangle him.

There was nothing he could do about the remaining elders, not while honoring Itachi's commitment to protect the village and the Uchiha name. Outing the Konoha leadership's heinous decision might have vindicated Itachi and garnered sympathy for himself, but it would tear the village apart and damage the Uchiha's legacy beyond repair.

What was the point of restoring his clan if the Uchiha ended up even more hated and ostracized than before? There was no future for him where his name and his kekkei genkai were known only through resentment.

Sasuke needed access to his chakra to reroute all this rage, but it'd been sealed from him. For now, the look of pity on Naruto's pinched face was enough to distract him.

They were talking about Pain's assault on Konoha, not Konoha's attack on his family.

Sasuke started to clear the table, matching lids to half-full containers. Naruto chewed on his lip, unusually thoughtful.

"Look, Sasuke, about the eld—"

"She knows you saved everyone." Sasuke spoke as if Naruto hadn't. Naruto, too stunned to point out the deflection, said nothing. "She doesn't blame you."

Slowly, Naruto started to stack their used plates and bowls. "I didn't save everyone, not really. Nagato did."

Nagato. That name again. Sasuke considered asking him about it, but then Naruto stood up with the stack of dirty dishes. He brought them to the sink, behind Sasuke's line of vision. On instinct, Sasuke stepped down and turned to face him.

Naruto glanced over his shoulder. "You talked to Sakura then?"

Sasuke gathered their used utensils. He opened this particular can of worms; he had only himself to blame while he ate them.

When Naruto reached an open hand out, Sasuke gave him the rest of the dirty dishes. He only nodded for confirmation.

Naruto never did the dishes when he was there. But he turned the faucet on with a hard shove and started to rinse them.

"I found out later about everything that happened."

Sasuke remained behind the countertop. He watched Naruto's back while he talked, the rest of their leftovers forgotten.

"When the attack started, the Akatsuki wanted a large diversion, so they didn't discriminate. That's how Shikamaru put it, anyway. Civilians, and kids— it was better that they targeted them, not just the shinobi. I guess Sakura showed up at the emergency room to drop an injured kid off, but when she did, it was total chaos. There were too many people hurt. Nobody knew what to do. A nurse begged her to stay so, you know, of course she did. She ended up leading the emergency response. I mean, she was in charge of the entire hospital."

At some point, Naruto had paused from washing. The sink water ran unimpeded.

"By the time I got there, there was no hospital."

Sasuke could almost taste the coppery tang of her blood. When your whole world ends in a single moment, how do you… how do you go on after something like that?

Sai had arrived before he could give her an answer. You don't.

"It was a pile of rubble," Naruto muttered. A dish clattered out of his hand. "And… well, that's not the only time I wasn't there when I should have been."

He poured soap onto the sponge, then scrubbed at dishes with unnecessary effort. "The first time we went up against the Akatsuki, they were trying to get me alone, and it worked. I let them bait me. Kakashi took after me. He had to, because I was the jinchūriki. Because of me, Sakura got left behind."

Hazy memories from being half-conscious in the hospital came to mind. "With the Sand shinobi."

"Yeah, Lady Chiyo."

"And before that, when I went off with Jiraiya, I told myself she wouldn't care, that if it was because I needed to get stronger to bring you back, that she would understand. But I still left her behind. She uh, she thought it was her fault, that I cared so much about getting you back, but that had nothing to do with it. Even if I never promised her, I would have done the same thing. I still would have gone away to train. I still would have left her behind."

For you, he doesn't say. I would have left her behind for you.

No different than when Sasuke left her behind to train under Orochimaru. The same as when Sasuke tried to trap her in a genjutsu so she wouldn't follow him and Naruto to their final battle in the Valley of the End.

Naruto continued his aggressive washing of the dishes with more clatter.

Having just composed himself, Sasuke returned to stacking the leftover containers. He missed it when Naruto turned around. He didn't notice how he became the focal point of Naruto's attention. That the direction of Naruto's thoughts had changed once again; this time, onto him.

"You know, I might understand why you left, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell that you did."

One of the containers nearly slipped from Sasuke's hand. He held on tighter.

Of all the things Sasuke had resigned himself to being— a traitor, an assassin, a criminal cloaked in red clouds— not once had he considered himself a coward.

He forced himself to meet Naruto's pained stare. The raw hurt and unchecked resentment that flooded his blue eyes.

Sasuke had one dark bruise to cover his aching jawline, the tender pain of torn muscles beneath his chin.

Perhaps he should let Naruto give him another.

"I know."

Not an apology by any stretch of the imagination, Naruto relaxed as if it had been.

Sasuke did too. His shoulders, which he hadn't known were drawn, loosened from his own admission.

There was too much left to say.

Naruto, for the oddest reason, nodded with understanding and returned to the dishes.

There was nothing else to say.

.

.

They sat on the rooftop as the sun set and surrounding streets thinned out. Naruto settled onto the left side and Sasuke on the right, each of them propped up with their one arm behind them. Naruto told stories, relaxed more than rambling, and Sasuke listened to him.

Earlier, Kakashi had said he'd be home in time for dinner. Sasuke wasn't surprised by his lateness, but he considered his absence. Wondered when he'd return. The reason why he hadn't.

As the temperature dropped, Naruto's storytelling slowed to a stop. The wind and their breathing were the only sounds, but like their meal, the shared silence was just as much of a reprieve. Despite the cold, Sasuke had no intention of leaving.

Naruto, who had been gazing at the stars, turned down to stare at his shoes.

"Think she'll forgive me?"

Sasuke didn't need him to clarify.

"She already has."

Their quiet words were shared between them, then carried away, whispers on the wind.

.

.

Naruto stood to leave, and when he did, something caught Sasuke's eye in the distance. A blur in the darkness, too swift to be seen. Naruto noticed his sudden alertness and turned toward the intrusion, both focused on a potential threat.

"Oh." Naruto relaxed, though Sasuke kept his attention on the street. "It's just Ūhei."

Sasuke gave no hint of recognition, but by the time Naruto explained, the greyhound in shinobi bandages came into clear view. Another pack member.

"One of Kakashi's ninken."

Ūhei raced down the streets, lean limbs propelling him forward. As he neared Kakashi's house, Naruto flagged him down.

"Hey Ūhei," he waved unnecessarily. "Up here!"

The ninken came to a halt. He didn't sit and wait at attention, but remained standing. There was a reason he'd been running.

Sasuke stood up, focused on the irregularity. Only Pakkun, Bull and Bisuke had made appearances since he returned to Konoha. Why would Kakashi send another dog?

Ūhei appraised them, his long snout pointed upward. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? I'm here every night."

Naruto hopped down to meet him, but Sasuke hesitated. As though standing above could give him a better vantage point to understand the developing situation.

"Well, almost every night," Naruto added sheepishly. "What's up, Ūhei? What are you doing here?"

Ūhei sniffed, agitated. "Kakashi sent me to update Pakkun."

The restless hound started in the direction of the front door, but Naruto stepped in front of him. "Update? On what?"

Ūhei nosed his way around Naruto, but then turned to look over his shoulder, as though he couldn't help himself. "I thought by now you'd be at the hospital."

At this point, Sasuke leapt down to join them. Without chakra to distract him, he could feel the blood racing through his system. The sour taste of adrenaline-laced saliva that coated his tongue. His body, alert to what was wrong, before his mind could catch up with it.

Having heard or smelt the other dog's arrival, Pakkun came tottering out the front door. Bull and Bisuke were on his heels, intent to hear Ūhei's update.

"Why would I be there?" Naruto raised a brow, oblivious to the reluctance on Pakkun's perpetually frowning face. The growing concern from Bull and Bisuke behind him.

Sasuke recalled the dogs' private whispering earlier. It wasn't him they'd been discussing.

Ūhei turned entirely to face Naruto, his tail wagging to the left. "Because of Sakura. She's in the hospital."

Naruto shook his head and spoke good-naturedly. "No, you mean she's at the hospital. Don't sweat it, Kakashi's had to correct me on the same thing." He leaned over to rub behind the hound's ear. "Since she works there, it gets confusing when you say it like that."

For one sliver of a second, Sasuke held his breath and hoped that Naruto wasn't an absolute idiot.

But then Ūhei shoved Naruto's hand away and Pakkun heaved a sigh.

"No, kid. She's not working at the hospital, she's in the hospital. She's been poisoned."

All the joy drained out of Naruto's face. Fear took its place.