Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any characters associated with it.

A One Month Bet

Sakura sighed and rested her chin in her hands, making sure to maintain a watchful gaze over her pupils. The classroom was fluctuating with dozens of different chakras, and the pressure of the energy made her temples ache. For lack of a better lesson plan, Sakura had resolved that they would continue practicing the healing techniques they'd already learned until they'd managed near perfection. It was a similar strategy that Tsunade had used to train Sakura herself, but because of time limitations she had not considered allowing them the actual time to hone their abilities until this week. Sakura's thoughts and feelings had been so jumbled the past few days that forming structured lessons was near impossible—even keeping track of her reports was frustrating. She'd fallen at least four days behind, ever since she'd gone out with Temari and Kankuro.

Ugh. Now is not the time to think about that, she warned herself. In truth, she desperately needed to focus on teaching. Her students were nearing the end of their third day of skill-perfecting practice, and they were getting to be pretty good. They weren't completely flawless, obviously, but they still had a great deal to learn. If she could only get her act together, they could proceed to harder injuries.

"Sakura-sensei," called a young chunin kunoichi from behind an operation table, "I'm finished."

Sakura tilted her head in the direction of the voice and stood slowly. The chunin indicated the area in which she had been working and took a respectful step backward. Sakura approached the table and examined the body, scalpel and gauze in hand. The previously severed thigh looked to be in excellent condition; she could not even see any bruising or scarring.

"Lovely," Sakura whispered with a hint of pride. She turned to the woman, a chunin named Mei Tai, and nodded. "I'm impressed." The pupil's cheeks flushed with pink and she smiled to Sakura, a gesture which the elder jonin returned. Suddenly, without a single word, Sakura's hand sliced downward, scalpel blade gleaming. The once-healed appendage split open again, revealing newly ripped muscles, torn cartilage, and a freshly-cracked femur bone. Mei Tai stared in horror at what had once been her impressive handiwork, and looked back to her teacher with confusion and heartbreak ready to spill over her cheeks. Sakura gave her a nod of empathy and said quietly, "Do it again."

The young woman's shoulders slumped. Sakura knew she must've been tired; it was likely she'd used a great deal of chakra to reconnect that leg so neatly. But Sakura had been in the exact same boat hundreds of times. How often had Tsunade forced her to redo a procedure multiple times over before allowing her to go home? There had been nights in Sakura's past where she'd spent hours upon hours healing the same injury over again, just to have Tsunade reopen it. It was the same method her shishou had used to teach her how to control her chakra-induced strength:

Do it until you don't hurt anyone else;

Do it until you don't hurt yourself;

Do it until you can do it right;

And finally, do it until you can't do it wrong.

That was how Sakura had learned her own skills, and that's how she intended on teaching them to others—disheartening though that method sometimes was.

Such as in this occasion. The chunin kunoichi refused to meet Sakura's gaze as she slowly stepped back up to the table and held her palms over the new wound. Sakura sighed and wiped off her bloodied hand. She felt bad for the young woman now but knew there was little she could do to console her. Sakura knew firsthand the indignant feelings Mei Tai probably felt toward her in that moment; it had taken years before she'd come to fully understand and respect the way in which Tsunade had trained her. Sakura now held the title of Konoha's second-greatest medic nin, and it was all thanks to her shishou's inexplicably difficult instruction method.

Sakura's compassion eventually got the best of her, and she said to her student, "I'm sorry. It really was good work. Just think how much better it will be the next time." The medic nodded heavily but still did not look at her. Sakura gave a single nod of solemn understanding and turned her attention to the rest of the room. Some of the medics were still working, but most had stopped and were staring in shock at her and the cadaver that she'd recently mutilated. Sakura positioned her hands on her hips and said wearily, "Is there anyone else who would like me to inspect their progress?" When no one answered her inquiry, she warned, "Then I suggest you all continue working."

Thirty-something faces dipped back down and she was once again alone with her thoughts. No longer the object of their attention, Sakura finally relaxed her façade and let her mouth slip into a sad little frown. She didn't enjoy being the 'bad guy'. She was confident that most, if not all, of her students regarded her as the "Bitch Teacher from Konoha," but she felt there was really nothing she could do to amend those feelings. It was her job to train them, not to be their friend or any other such affiliation. But she knew she was taking out her stress on them, treating them more harshly than they deserved. After their blundering first week, nearly all the medics had stepped up to the bill and were progressing at an impressive rate. She truthfully felt very proud of all of them. It wasn't fair of her to keep subjecting them to her own temper.

Sakura glanced quickly at the clock that hung on the wall above them. They still had nearly two-and-a-half hours left devoted to class time. Sakura chewed on her lip and debated the situation, but finally settled on an executive decision. Such a decision could easily get her sent back to Konoha, but she felt that, considering the circumstances of the last few days, it was a miracle she was not already back in the forest by now. She clapped her hands and announced, "Listen up everyone!" The class's attention was once again focused on her, and she forced a new smile on her face. "You all have been working especially hard these past three days and I am very impressed with your work. Tomorrow we will start something new, but for this afternoon I've decided that you all deserve a break. If you will simply finish the wound you are currently working on, I will come and inspect it, and after you have cleaned up your area, I will then release you early for the day."

The faces of the students around her alit with shock and awe. Within moments, a young man in the back raised a tentative hand, and Sakura advanced towards his table. True to her word, she gave him a nod and a smile after checking over the wound. He seemed unsure, however, and took several moments to clean his utensils and return his cadaver to the freezer room as though he expected that it was all just an elaborate test. The second he was safely out the door, though, three more hands crawled skyward. Sakura spent another half an hour going by to check over every student's work, releasing those whose wounds looked adequately healed. The final student remaining was the chunin that Sakura had originally inspected, and she released her as well, despite the fact that she had not finished reconnecting the torn skin. "I'll finish up here," Sakura offered kindly, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

When at last the room was empty of medic nin, Sakura took a moment to finish healing the thigh as she'd promised and return the body to the freezer. It was a quick job for her, and as a final gesture, she made sure the rest of the room was entirely cleaned up. She switched off the lights, exited the room, and locked the door behind her.

Ah. Freedom.

Sakura felt the same rush of excitement that she'd seen displayed on the faces of her students. It was a rare event, especially in the world of Shinobi, that you could receive a break from training or working. In fact, it was generally frowned upon, because during missions, opportunities to indulge in breaks are slim-to-none, and field ninjas are expected to perform during missions to the fullest degree.

Of course, nearly every sensei she'd known through the years would occasionally bend that rule by rewarding good behavior or progress: Iruka treated Naruto to ramen. Kakashi had pretended to treat Team Seven to ramen, before leaving them with the bill. Jiraiya-sama rewarded Naruto with porn.

Even Tsunade-shishou had allowed Sakura respite in the past. There was once a time when several of Sakura's friends had planned to go out on the town for Ino's birthday. Sakura was busy assisting her mentor with reports; they'd spent the day training outside, and had just begun sorting the reports by mission class and rank when Ten Ten entered to drop off a last minute assignment. Surprised to find Sakura still working, she asked lightly whether or not her friend would be joining them. Dutiful Sakura declined and asked that Ten Ten wish Ino a happy birthday for her. It had not been much longer after Ten Ten's departure that Tsunade abruptly declared that she no longer felt like doing paperwork and decided to take a night off. She sent Sakura away without further instruction, but Sakura knew her true intentions; she knew they would pay the price of skipping a night of managing reports. But Sakura had been allowed time with her friends, and for that, she was thankful.

As she strolled out the doors of the hospital, Sakura continued reminiscing. She missed Konoha dearly. She was midway through her third week in Suna, and she hadn't had any contact with her home village since the letter Tsunade had sent at the end of her first week. Maybe she could send her friends a postcard, or something, and hope they would return the gesture. It's Always Sunny in Suna!, the card would cheerfully proclaim. On the back she could comment sarcastically, Yes, unfortunately, it is. Naruto would get a kick out of that.

She sighed sadly. What were her friends doing now? Were they on missions of their own? Would they be there when she returned? One could never be certain, in the profession of a Shinobi, if a ninja would return from a mission in the exact condition he or she left in. In Sakura's life, she'd encountered two types of Shinobi: the kind that formed unbreakable friendships and the kind that avoided affiliation with others above all else. The wisest thing to do, perhaps, was to be a ninja of the latter sort; if you care about no one but yourself, then it doesn't hurt to lose anyone else. But Sakura prided herself for not being of that nature. She felt blessed to have as many friends as she did. All her friends were fierce warriors, proud upholders of the things they believed in. It was Sakura's own personal opinion that ninja who create bonds with one another perform more gallantly in battle. How many times had she seen Naruto push himself to be stronger and greater for the sake of his friends? It was always in the service of someone he loved that Naruto was able to unlock some hidden power, the chakra of the Kyuubi, and overcome any obstacle or enemy that stood in his way.

Sakura smiled as she continued meandering down the road. She missed Naruto, silly idiot though he was. And she missed Ino-pig, too. Oh, what Sakura would give to have them here to argue with her right now. She missed Naruto's incessant requests for dates. She missed Ino's infuriating superiority complex. She missed Hinata and Ten Ten and Shikamaru and Choji. She even missed Kakashi, even though he was an elusive, insulting mooch. She missed the trees in the forest, hopping through their branches and peering over their peaks. She missed being able to gaze out at the mountain range by the village, or go romping with her girlfriends in one of the creeks. She missed the deciduous landscape and the temperate weather.

She missed Konoha.

But it was not fair of her to whine like this. It was not as though Suna was completely barren and boring. It had its own brand of beauty. The golden hue of the city would not have suited any other climate, and Sakura had never seen more beautiful sunrises or sunsets. Without the issue of foliage or mountains, Sakura could watch the clear horizon until the very last glimpse of the sun disappeared below the edge of sightline. The view was amazing, as well. You could see for hundreds of miles in some directions. It was not surprising that the people here thrived; they had learned to work symbiotically with their environment. They were rough, like the sand-worn skin on their hands, but they were kind—most of them.

But the beauty of Suna could not completely erase her longing for Konoha. This mission felt excruciatingly drawn-out. It was not as though she hadn't been on missions as long as this one before, though—It was just that she had never been confined to a single area. Normally long missions involved a great deal of traveling, or at least an exciting degree of espionage. Not here. Here she was just Haruno Sakura, and her only responsibilities were to wake, train, eat, sleep, and repeat.

Only another week and a half, she promised herself. Then she could return to her life in the forest, and she would no longer have to worry about the demands on Suna's medical unit or even the mood swings of a certain ridiculous Kazekage. No sir, she could just relax in the comfort of her own home village, in her own little apartment.

Alone.

A sudden rush of despair clouded Sakura's mind. She quickly rounded a corner into an alleyway and pressed her back against the stone wall, clutching her chest as though she could not breathe. The despair thickened and solidified just underneath where her hand was placed, squeezing around her lungs and engulfing her heart. Sakura took quick, short breaths, trying to free herself from the cold grasp, but it did little to help. Why? She struggled, Why do I feel like this?

Sakura let her knees give way and she scooted down to a sitting position. Nothing made sense. Konoha was her home. She missed it more than anything right now. She missed her friends and Tsunade. It was not like she was ever really alone in Konoha. There was always someone around, someone she recognized, or at least somewhere familiar to go. Not here—not in Suna. She was the only Konoha resident present.

But the longer Sakura pondered the feeling, the more she realized that it was fear. It was a fear of being alone—not in Suna, but in Konoha, not for a lack of friends and acquaintances, but for a lack of…

Her eyes widened and her teeth gnashed together. No…

No!

I should not be feeling this now, she thought desperately. I cannot allow myself to feel this way. Sakura clenched her fists and stood, back pressed fully against the wall. She should've never taken this mission from Tsunade. She should've never tampered with the wishes of the Kages, for now she was involved physically, mentally, and now suddenly, emotionally. She should've never agreed to stay in the Kazekage tower, should've never agreed to stay in Suna at all.

Because now… Now she was afraid.

Afraid of being alone again.

Afraid of losing him.

Gaara.

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-Olly