A/N: This chapter has been rewritten, I hope it isn't too much of a departure of what it was before. I wanted to fix some details and add a couple of new ones. I think it's better now. Another thing to note going forward is that I will be removing the POV shifts; some people liked em, but I really didn't and it was becoming more and more tedious to write it like that.
I'm still working on Chapter 8 and revising the next chapters, and I'll change the POV shifts in those too. Just wanted to update you guys on the changes! Til next time, ENJOY!
Chapter One
An Inconvenient Series of Truths
...
Congratulations on the mess you made of things;
On trying to reconstruct the air and all that brings.
An oxidation is the compromise you own;
But this is beginning to feel like the dog wants a bone.
...
She couldn't believe it. Her vision began to blur so she blinked. This didn't help in the slightest; there it was again, glaring back at her. An unwaveringly plain sight clutched in trembling hands. Her stomach twisted in angry knots.
She was going to be sick - again.
How could this have happened? How could she have let this happen?
An overwhelming shame gripped her. She had failed to keep her careful hormone regulation in check and she'd slipped.
But, oh gods, how had she managed to slip so badly? The shame was almost enough to overpower the gravity of the situation.
Almost.
Hands still shaking, Sakura placed the little stick down on the sink and pressed herself against the wall, head coming to rest against the tiles. The same questions ran through her mind at top speed as a dull throb formed behind her eyelids.
How was she going to deal with this? What would she tell her friends?
What would she tell Tsunade?
Her gaze fell on the ominous plastic sitting an inch from her head and a fresh wave of nausea took over. Oh, god, not again, please. She'd barely had time to grab the rim of the toilet before everything she'd had for breakfast - which wasn't much - splattered the bowl. It felt like hours before the heaving stopped but eventually it did and she slowly pulled herself back up, catching her reflection in the mirror.
Someone she barely recognized stared back at her. Eyes that were once a sparkling emerald green were now dull and heavy from exhaustion. Her skin, usually so clear and free of blemishes, was now peppered with angry, red splotches. Her hair - lusterless and unkempt - stuck to her face like leeches, clinging with tears and sweat.
Her life was over. Her career, her friendships, her place in the village, all of it: over.
"What am I going to do?" she asked no one, and received nothing in response. No miraculous sign had come from above to absolve her. No one was there to figure this out for her. This responsibility hung on her and her alone. Her stomach quivered again.
She knew what she needed to do - what she was supposed to do - but terror kept her anchored to the floor.
She needed to talk to Tsunade, run to the Hokage building right now, explain the entire situation and accept the consequences of her actions, no matter how dire. Of course that wasn't what she wanted to do. What she wanted to do was crawl into a hole, fall asleep and never be seen again.
'Shishou is going to be so disappointed.'
She scoffed. That was, without a doubt, understatement of the fucking year.
She could only hope to get away with 'disappointed' as far as Tsunade was concerned. It'd be nothing short of a miracle if she wasn't arrested on the spot after this got out. Her chest clenched tightly and suddenly the bathroom felt much smaller. White knuckles gripped the edge of the sink and she thought for a second that she might pass out.
There were no words to describe just how utterly and hopelessly screwed she was.
She was looking straight down the barrel of exile or imprisonment - even execution wasn't out of the question here. And even if, somehow, she was lucky enough to gain enough favor, managed to plead her case and was able to remain in the village, she'd never be able to show her face again.
'Haruno Sakura, top-tier medical shinobi, former student of the famous Copy-Nin Hatake Kakashi and the Legendary Sannin Tsunade - village traitor and social pariah.'
She could already hear the whispers.
Numbly, she felt herself moving but hadn't the mind to pay attention to where her feet led her. Her head was swimming, her eyes burning with more unshed tears, her body threatening to give out on her. Traitorous images and memories she'd worked so hard to forget were flooding her brain suddenly.
She found herself at the edge of her bed and collapsed on top of the crumpled sheets, burying her face in the pillow. A ragged scream tore through her throat, muffled by the pillow, as an onslaught of desperate sobs came unhindered now.
Every image, every sound, every smell, every moment that just a few hours ago had seemed like an unreal dream, came back fiercely and she curled her body in protectively.
It didn't matter anyway; her fate was already sealed.
...
Two months prior, Amegakure
It had been a week and a half and she still had nothing.
The solo mission she had been sent on to gather intel on potential homeland threats had amounted to nothing more than a bad dye job and wasted nights in different bars in Ame's entertainment district.
If there were a medal awarded to the shinobi with the most useless information in her arsenal, she would have already won it.
Everything from marriage advice, to get-rich-quick schemes, to the best way to keep a long-haired dog from getting tangles, was unknowingly divested to her. She expected this from the civilian bars, but most of the ones she had frequented had mostly shinobi clientele.
It was suspicious. All discussion of shinobi business had stopped, and small talk had started instead. It was almost as if they knew she was listening.
After the first week, she was more than just annoyed; more than once, she had to fight down the desire to resort to brute force to get someone to spill. Fortunately, not blowing her cover - and not getting herself killed - was more important, if just barely.
Eventually she decided that maybe if she got more involved in the atmosphere she might be more likely to hear something of worth. She had started dancing, attempting to utilize whatever feminine wile she could manage to loosen some tongues. That had helped a little bit, for awhile.
Through her unwitting dance partners, she had started to catch little tidbits of info here and there.
Sometimes these intel bites were unvested by whatever poor sap she'd wrangled for the moment; sometimes she'd hear them in passing. Unfortunately most of the time the conversations led back to places she didn't want to go: their room or hers. Eventually the new intel had run dry, certain details she'd already heard would be repeated, and she refused to subject herself to more groping if she couldn't get something in return for it.
This led her to the bar, where she got nothing at all.
Two weeks in found her at the hottest dance club in Amegakure. She had settled in at the bar, wishing she'd had some sunglasses to protect herself from the overkill of the strobe lights that surrounded her. Every time the bartender would make a round, she'd have cranberry juice, though she needed a drink desperately.
Wiggling her hands into her too-tight jeans and pulling out her little cell phone - why didn't they have these in Konoha? - she noted that it was nearing two-thirty in the morning. She sighed into her glass; tonight was looking no more prosperous than the last.
Defeated, she had gotten up to leave when she saw him come in.
Compared to the rest of them, this one was different somehow. He was tall - so tall that the club seemed somehow smaller now that he was in it - and more broad than probably any man she had ever met. He was dressed down, all in black civilian garb but something in her gut told her this was no civilian. No one else seemed to notice this dark stranger in their colorful midst, but he was the only thing she had noticed.
She scoffed, taking her seat back at the bar, some shinobi these guys were. Just the sight of this guy sent off alarms in her head.
His hood covered nearly his entire face, so all she could see when he sat a few seats from her was the strict line of his mouth and his sharply angled chin. It was too dark to see much anyway, so she supposed it didn't matter. The strobe lights could only do so much. He was maintaining his chakra level so well that it was as if he had none, and that told her all she needed to know.
High-level shinobi, possibly dangerous.
Unlike her, he apparently didn't see any problem with imbibing because he ordered four shots of sake and sucked them down faster than her eye could follow. She watched as his head tilted towards her and she tried to look away fast enough to avoid being caught gawking at his sheer tenacity to drink like a fish. Unfortunately, he was faster than she was and she froze as his eyes caught hers.
It was so unusual, she couldn't see them but she could feel something holding her in place, After what felt like an eternity, he broke the gaze and she felt something clutch in her gut. She couldn't explain it, but she had been caught like a deer in headlights, drawn to something darker and more promising than the idiots that surrounded was something about his aura that even the suppression of his chakra couldn't stop.
This guy had what she wanted, and now she just had to figure out how to get it.
The bartender had stopped by her and she waved him off good-naturedly as she began to plot her course. How was she going to chart this anyway? Briefly she considered a seduction attempt, but for some reason, she didn't think that would even work. He was a man sure, but he was clearly a man who had the skill and knowledge to recognize such an attempt.
And besides, she thought somewhat resentfully, she'd never been great at full on seduction anyway. She knew that she could flirt, be entrancing and charming, but she always had issues 'closing the deal' so to speak. This went doubly if she was sober herself.
She knew she could probably loosen him up to some degree, but she also knew that she had a tendency to let her nervousness at failing get to her. Time and time again, Tsunade had tried to work through this with her, but it wasn't her fault if the idea of bedding strangers for information wasn't her forte. She would need some help, for sure.
Maybe if he had a few more drinks in him...
She watched discreetly as he tipped back two more shots with as much ease as if they were water and narrowed her eyes at her own drink. More than ever, with the failure of successfully of completing this mission nipping at her heels, she wished she could have this stranger's tenacity. He downed a third shot and then a fourth. Under the bar, Sakura twisted her hands nervously.
Well...maybe just one would be okay. She knew that she could handle one, and the courage a drink promised was so tempting. Hell, she could handle far more if she wanted and still be just fine. Curiously, she peered up from under her lashes to find his head pointed in her direction. Maybe this could be just the icebreaker she needed.
Quietly, slyly, she slid across the empty bar stool, pouted her lips and proceeded to play it cool.
"What are you drinking?" She found she didn't have to speak as loudly as she thought she'd have to. That was a good start; just a simple, safe question.
"Why? Sick of juice?"
His voice was deep, but she had expected that. What she hadn't counted on was the way that the resonant rumble would spread through the bar itself and travel up her arm, manifesting itself in the hairs on her neck. His voice was humorless, and she still couldn't see his face.
"I'm not really much of a drinker." She didn't know what else to add to that that wouldn't make her look like a complete idiot.
He didn't speak, but when two more shots appeared in front of him, he slid one to her and she was grateful. Any shinobi of worth would think it stupid to take a drink from a complete stranger but she had watched the bartender pour it. She would have noticed if he had spiked it in the short time between grabbing it and offering it to her. And after all...
She needed this to open him up and so she would have to use it. She took the shot quickly, and too late did she realize her mistake. She should have made a bit of a show of it, since she'd said she wasn't much of a drinker. If he noticed though, he made no indication and slid yet another in front of her. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Trying to get me drunk?"
His mouth - or at least the part that she could see - crooked up in the corner just the slightest, and the effect it had on her was undesirable.
"You don't have to drink it." His voice rumbled in amusement and fought down the shiver that it left in it's wake.
Though she knew it was a bad idea to allow herself to ease up in this man's presence, she felt the corner of her own mouth twitch. Something deep echoed in her brain that she was outmatched, that this was trouble - that he was trouble. Her resolve tightened.
That was failure talk and she refused to listen.
"Well..." Her caution dissipated as she picked the small glass up, tipped it back even faster than the first and smiled slyly.
"That would just be rude."
...
Her brain slammed against her skull with bone shattering force and as she roused she wondered when she had fallen back asleep in the first place. It was only a few seconds later did she remember why she was still in bed at two in the afternoon when she was supposed to have been at work six hours ago.
She'd spent all last night torn between fitful sleep, crying and dry heaving into the trashcan she'd dragged to bed with her. After her little discovery a couple of days ago, she couldn't bring herself to do much else but throw herself into her misery.
She knew this wasn't helping. If any of the people that loved her could see the state she had gotten herself into, they'd be distraught and worried beyond belief.
For as long as they still loved her, anyway...
The blanket came back over her head, shutting out the sun that beamed rather inconsiderately through the blinds. Tsunade was going to kill her. She hadn't gone into work yesterday either.
She knew she was doing an awful job of pretending that nothing was wrong, if she was intent on not drawing anymore attention to herself.
Sometime in the middle of the night she had come to the revelation that the best course of action was to get an abortion. If she did that, no one would to have to know everything that had happened, and she could effectively skirt the responsibilities that had been hoisted onto her. Honestly, she had been surprised that it hadn't been the first thing she'd thought of. Abortions were more common in the shinobi world than they were uncommon.
Of course that meant she'd actually have to leave her apartment first - a feat that she had yet to find the strength to do.
And she'd still have to tell Tsunade; even if she sought out another medic to assist her, it'd get around to her eventually and she'd have an even more upset Hokage to deal with. She was on a first name basis with every damn shinobi and civilian medic in the village. It'd definitely be sooner than later.
Oh well, it couldn't be helped. Something had to be done about this and soon.
She sat up with a start as a surge of anxiety pierced her gut and she suddenly felt sick again. All of those medical texts she'd read about morning sickness hadn't even come close to the level she'd been experiencing it. It looked like she was destined to spend another morning stuck in the bathroom.
Racing as fast as her exhausted body could carry her down the hall, she practically threw herself onto the tile floor, dry heaving and gagging on virtually nothing but stomach acid. The bitter taste brought on yet more heaving and tears stung her already sore eyes at the exertion.
There wasn't even anything to throw up and she couldn't even use her chakra to alleviate the pain or nausea, as it was as out of control as her hormones were. She knew she wouldn't be able to work in this condition - if she decided to ever leave the house again - but she couldn't even find the nerve to call in sick. After it was over she laid across the seat, weakly clutching to it as if it were the only thing tethering her to life.
The chakra control disruption had started about a week ago, a little bit before the relentless morning sickness. She'd been assigned to teach a class of fresh-faced genin the basics of medical ninjutsu - courtesy of Tsunade, who'd been pissed that she'd bombed her Ame mission, and more than excited to dole out punishment - and was showing them how to revive a fish.
It'd started fine, her control had been perfect, as always. Little excited faces surrounded her, eyes wide as she channeled chakra into the lifeless form on the table. It came to life suddenly, flopping once, twice, and went still - little excited gasps now filled the room. Fighting down the pleased smile that came at showing off her skill to those who'd never seen it, she increased her chakra just slightly, just enough to get the little fella flopping once more for good this time and -
With a sickening splat, chunks of meat, bone and entrails went flying. The three little girls that had crowded her to watch the action up close were now covered in fish bits, two of them screamed, and one was crying. Gasps and screams and other sounds of terror and repulsion echoed in the classroom alongside the chorus of "Cool!" that came from some boys in the back, previously bored and now very interested.
Sakura snatched her hands back, confused and unable to process what had happened. All she could do was stare dumbly at the mess she had just created, as Iruka-sensei - now up from his desk to calm the excited kids down - attempted to regain order.
Sakura had hustled out after that, apologizing loudly and claiming she wasn't feeling well and that she'd be back in just a moment, and that no, that didn't usually happen.
Afterwards, she'd been able to revive another fish - thank god - and finish the class out. She'd written it off as a minor slip.
As the week progressed on though, it became very obvious that something was steadily not right, and things that she had been able to do before she either could not or was having to concentrate far too hard on them.
She should have gone to Tsunade immediately, to get checked out for whatever could be causing this, but true to her pride, she'd swept it under the rug and hid it the best she could. That was dangerous, and a huge part of her brain had screamed at her to do something before she killed someone. She ignored it, put herself on the schedule for physicals only - something Tsunade had been begging her to do, since it was that time of the year - and held out for the rest of the week, using her chakra as little as she could get away with.
When the constant nausea, serious fatigue - and eventually - the vomiting started, she knew these issues were related. She couldn't ignore it anymore.
The rest of that afternoon was spent pouring through medical texts, comparing her symptoms with ones listed, trying to crossreference until she'd come to a passage that had her chewing her lip as she read.
'-if the source of the symptoms is still unable to be discovered, one should attempt to rule out the obvious. Ailments like influenza, the common cold, allergic reactions and pregnancy can cause serious chakra fluctuations and problems with chakra control. If the patient is female, presents none of the symptoms of aforementioned illnesses and is of child-rearing age, a pregnancy test should be administered first.'
She'd sat for a moment in her office, glaring at the words. She could already tell that she didn't have a cold or the flu, but pregnancy? That was ridiculous. She'd have to actually have sex in order to get pregnant and she hadn't done that since-
Realization hit her like a ton of bricks; she slammed the book she'd be reading shut, as if just reading the word had cursed her. She literally felt all of the color drain from her face.
Oh, god... Oh, no. There was no way...
A frantic series of moments found her tossing one of the nearby supply closets for one of those cursed little pink boxes. Normally, an in-lab test was done to determine pregnancy but the hospital had a supply of these home tests on hand just in case. She really didn't want to do this at work.
Finally she found one and looked over her shoulders - not at all suspiciously, she'd reassured herself - and stuffed it into her shirt. She'd tried to sneak past the nurses' station but the junior medic on duty called to her just as she hit the door.
"Sakura-san? Where are you going?"
Sakura froze, hand on the doorknob. Damn. It was Miyabi. She cursed her luck.
As sweet and kind as she was, Miyabi was far too nosey for her own good. She had a tendency to get too involved in things that didn't concern her. Sakura knew she meant well but the younger girl's concern had a tendency to get tedious. She turned around with a fake smile that would put Sai to shame.
"I- I forgot something at home, so I was just hopping out to grab it real quick. If anyone asks, just let them know I'll be right back 'K? Thanks Miyabi!" She didn't bother to wait for a response and bolted out the door, taking the steps two at a time and all but running down the street back to her apartment.
But she never did go back. And now here she was, stuck on the cold bathroom floor yet another morning.
She was weak, she was malnourished and couldn't eat or even drink; everything she consumed made its way back up, even water was too strong for her stomach to handle.
This was ridiculous. This was insane. Unforgiveable. Under any other normal circumstance she'd have been fine, a little embarrassed sure, but this situation wasn't normal.
This wasn't normal at all.
She dug her hands into her eyes, rubbing them fiercely, the situation weighing down even heavier now. How had she been so stupid?
It wasn't that she had gone out, gotten drunk, had sex with a stranger, failed to use protection and had gotten knocked up that had her trapped inside of her apartment like a leper. She'd read enough medical files to know that something like that was unfortunately common in her line of work.
No, it was the who rather than the why or how that was the problem.
More memories bubbled up and she felt herself laying on the floor, taking small comfort in the cold tile against her too-warm skin. She didn't even fight them this time.
...
Amegakure, the morning after
Sakura awoke in quite a state, the fuzziness of sleep clearing slowly to allow what was sure to be one of the worst hangovers she'd ever had to settle in. The first thing she noticed was her current lack of clothing and an unforgiving draft coming from...somewhere.
Head pounding and stomach churning, she clumsily found the nearest piece of untethered fabric. Wrapping it around herself, she slowly dragged her body out of the bed and made her way over to the open window.
After stepping on several articles of clothing strewn across the floor - surely she hadn't left the room that messy - and nearly tripping over a small end table that she didn't remember being there before, her eyes finally adjusted to the moonlit room. When she made it to the window - she could have sworn it was on the other side of the room - she got a good look at her current surroundings. She froze, the window forgotten.
This was not her room. Hell, this wasn't even the same inn. And those weren't all of her clothes on the floor and that was not her night table.
'Godi...what happened last night?'
She remembered meeting a man and she remembered drinking. She could remember talking and laughing. Her intention had been to sauce him up a bit and squeeze some information out of him for the mission but something had gotten her sidetracked.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.' She'd let her guard down.
But why?
She narrowed her eyes, squinted in the dark and she saw him then, wrapped in a dark sheet. He was just as naked as she was and was, thankfully, very much asleep.
Cold numbness seeped in as she studied his features. His sharply chiseled face was tense, even in sleep and it made his jaw look all the more angular. His eyes were very dark, as if the rims had been outlined in kohl and smudged; his nose was sharp, the bridge only slightly crooked probably from where it had been broken and re-set once or twice. There were dark etchings on his cheeks, like stretched checkmarks, and could have been tattoos, but they were unlike any tattoos she had seen.
Her eyebrows furrowed deeply and she let her gaze travel down to his exposed arm to see the exact same markings right above his bicep, only much larger. They very closely resembled a set of fish gills. He was very well defined and muscular, long legs stretching over the end of the queen size bed. His hair was as dark as the pillowcase but she could see a decent amount of stubble on his jaw, his hair was an almost black shade of blue and his skin...
He had an unusual skin color, bluish, though perhaps that was just the moonlight.
She looked down at her arm to see if it looked blue too. It didn't.
His skin...was blue. How had that been the last thing she'd noticed? How could a man so unusual be suddenly so very familiar?
A man with blue skin...
...blue skin and gill markings and angular features and...
...razor sharp teeth...
...who carried a sentient sword that ate people and who was surely more monster than man.
He was even named for it, the demon that had twisted him from a possible human into the terrible, bloodthirsty, killing machine he was. One who took the utmost pleasure in torturing and skewering his victims until there were no identifiable remains left. Her hand flew up to her face.
She had seen his face in countless bingo books, along with a file she was made to read when doing research on the Akatsuki, complete with various pictures of his violent deeds and the messes he'd made. They had never met, she had never seen him in the flesh on the battlefield but she knew his work too all well.
"Hoshigaki Kisame..."
The whisper was as silent as it was loud in its terror and repulsion. One of the most renowned, purely evil criminals known to the shinobi nations lay before her, completely naked and snoring lightly.
And she had just slept with him.
She had allowed a...a monster to be inside of her, to spill his demon seed into her in an act that should have been shared between two people who cared for each other, or even just two individuals of the same species!
Nausea hit her full force but she couldn't bring herself to move from that spot with fear that she would wake him and he would see what they had done and he would certainly rip her limb from limb and parade in her blood. She swallowed thickly and looked down at the garment she was wrapped in.
A thick, black cloak adorned with bright crimson clouds, the very symbol that she had been taught to hate and fear and fight against for her country and her best friend, was now shielding her naked body from the cold. She dropped it as if the innocent cloth had burned her. Forcing herself to move, she crept over it, dropped to her knees and crawled around the floor as silently as possible, feeling for her clothes.
She had to get out of here.
Intent on making the window escape of shame as soon as she was dressed enough, she found her jeans, and slid them on. She wasn't even worried about her underwear and found her tank top, shredded at her feet. It was destroyed and she wondered if he had ripped it off of her. Bastard. Luckily her jacket was close by so she made due with that instead, wincing as she slid the zipper up the track.
She didn't have time to think about how sore and exhausted she was and didn't want to think about what that monster had done to her body. Without hesitation she slid through the window and outside, running as fast as she could intent to get away as far as she could.
...
By the time she realized what she had just done - what they had done - she put as much distance between that herself and Ame as possible. She made the return trip home in record time, the mission was done. An unmitigated failure. She'd decided that she would never speak of that horrible night to anyone, ever.
It had been hard at first and she was hit with an onslaught of depression and shame. As her faculties returned and the haziness of the hangover cleared out, she began to remember more and more of what happened that night. And just how differently it had actually happened versus how she told herself it must have happened.
She remembered when he'd torn her shirt, but she also recalled that she had practically begged him to. She remembered that she was the one who had initiated it, and she even vaguely recalled that he tried to stop her. He didn't force her; they were both just very drunk and poor judgment combined with loneliness on her part led to an awful mistake. It was rough and it was dirty, but she had - at that very moment at least - wanted him, for whatever reason.
She had tried to reason with herself, to make herself out to be the victim, so she could feel the tiniest bit justified - outraged really - for what had happened. To reconcile that she had allowed a... monster... to touch her. Eventually she'd come to realize she was being slightly unfair; he was a monster, very much so, and evil and cruel in all of the ways a person could be. But he was a monster because of what he'd done, not because of his appearance.
She hadn't even really taken that into account, and was so fixated on the surface that she didn't realize what was underneath was far worse.
If at any time during their interaction she recalled who he was, she was unsure, but she should have been more careful. Had she been more aware of what she was doing - had listened to those warning bells - this would have never happened.
Unfortunately for all of her reasoning, - her careless nature when she should have been the most careful - she was just as much to blame as he was. Admitting that brought about more shame and disgust than she could handle.
And so she'd had her pity party, didn't eat for a few days, wallowed around in misery and told everyone she had the flu. The details - which weren't very fresh to begin with - became fuzzier and soon stopped being her first waking thoughts. Eventually she stopped living in fear that someone knew her dirtiest secret. No one knew, no one would ever know, she began to believe that.
One day - the entire event pushed into the darkest recesses of her memory - she'd stopped thinking about it at all.
Until this, of course.
And now she was forced to deal with her actions because said actions had developed into a serious consequence. A consequence that was probably starving because its mother couldn't even hold down water.
"Mother..." She whispered in awe, in a voice foreign to her ears. She couldn't believe it, that she could ever be a mother to anybody and especially not one born of such a stupid mistake.
It was the most tragic way to bring a life into the world, and suddenly she felt a deep surge of sadness. This time it wasn't for her, but for the poor soul that lived within her and took the brunt of her mistake and her poor choices.
"I'm...sorry..."
Barely even alive and cursed into existence; with a broken mother who surely didn't have one maternal bone in her body and a criminal, certainly absentee father what kind of life could it expect to have?
Even if she wanted to keep it - even if she was allowed to - this child would forever be marked with shame and difficult realities. If anyone ever found out the truth, despite the outcome, he or she would always be an outcast and no matter how much love she'd try - and probably fail - to provide, it would eventually hate her for bringing it into the world.
And what if something happened to her? Early deaths were just an occupational hazard. She'd be dead and gone and it would be left to deal with the world alone. She had seen Naruto go through that same life every single day. She definitely didn't want that for her child, and Naruto wasn't the progeny of a criminal like this child would be.
She could try and hide it, but she knew that would never work. Especially if the kid looked like-
She didn't even want to think about it. Either way, she was screwed and this poor thing was guilty by association.
But despite all of this, she couldn't find the strength to just do what she knew needed to be done. She should just get off of the floor and go to Tsunade and beg her for forgiveness and help. Obviously she couldn't be totally truthful, but she could admit she had made a very bad decision one night and-
Loud and frantic pounding at her front door brought her back to the unforgiving fluorescent lighting of her bathroom and the cold tile floor beneath her cheek.
'Looks like the jig is up...'
She couldn't delay the inevitable and as much as she'd rather just sink into the floor and ignore it, she knew that it had only been a matter of time before someone came to find her. Feeling worn down and just plain awful, she knew she looked like shit and probably had vomit in her hair but no will to do anything about it. She got up and trudged slowly to the door.
Half a second after her locks were undone, her door all but fell open and a very irritated and huffy Shizune stood in her doorway. The older woman's arms were bogged down with various scrolls, books and files. She pushed past Sakura, with a huff, threw her load down onto the kitchen table and launched into her verbal lash immediately.
"My god, woman, what in Hokage's name has gotten into you?!-"
"Shizune-"
"-You don't show up for work in two days! Two days! Absolutely no one has heard anything from you and you-" Shizune grabbed the disconnected phone cord off of Sakura's kitchen bar and held it up, "You unplugged your phone?!"
"Shizune, please-" she stood motionless in the still open doorway as Shizune continued her tirade, feeling like she might vomit and faint and god knew what else.
"Tsunade is absolutely livid and worried to death and has been terrified - along with everyone else I might add - that you've been dead in here and-" Finally she turned, facing Sakura and her face just dropped.
"Shizune..." Hot tears sprung to the pinkette's eyes, and she choked, "I'm-I'm sorry I just-"
"Sakura, you look awful! Oh, god, what happened? What's wrong?" Suddenly every ounce of anger just dissolved and the older woman all but ran to her. She must have looked pretty terrible if the mere sight of her could drain Shizune's anger so completely. The faint feeling she felt from before crashed down on her and her knees gave out just in time for Shizune to catch her and keep her upright.
As soon as she felt the contact those floodgates reopened and she crashed, clutching onto her coworker and friend for dear life, pouring out everything in the form of tears and snot on brunette's shirt.
Shizune held her for a few moments, rubbing her back and letting Sakura use her as a human Kleenex. Finally the sobs died down and Sakura had to admit she felt a little better for at least having someone there to care about her. Shizune pulled away and stared into watery green orbs.
"Tell me what happened, Sakura."
She hung her head in shame, terrified that the next words out of her mouth would be the loop around which the noose was tied. She didn't want to tell Shizune, she'd certainly rush her to Tsunade - though she probably would have anyway, even if she said nothing - there was nothing to be gained by keeping this anymore. She needed help; she couldn't do this on her own.
"I... I..." Sakura looked up at the ceiling, trying to find something to distract her but Shizune pulled her face back down to her level. She knew then that she had no choice but to come clean, "I'm pregnant."
Shizune's eyes widened to that of saucers and for the briefest of seconds she looked as if she might laugh. Shizune clearly thought she was joking. And Sakura wished she was.
The brunette held her gaze for a moment, as if expecting Sakura to burst into laughter and for people to jump out and scream 'Gotcha!' When it became clear that the despondent look on the younger kunoichi's face was there to stay, a look of shock settled onto Shizune's own. Her partial smile dropped into a look of agape disbelief.
"Oh my god, you're serious."
Sakura could understand why Shizune was surprised; it wasn't as if she was the one to expect it from. She hardly dated, she never frequented clubs and wasn't especially promiscuous. She'd had maybe two semi-serious relationships under her belt, both of which she'd never invested in and ducked out of as soon as things began to get complicated.
She was a notorious home-body when she wasn't working at the hospital or on a rare field mission. She wasn't the type of girl who walked down the street with attention drawn as if she were some kind of looker. She knew she was attractive enough but she never put herself out there. And she certainly wasn't one for one night stands.
"But-But how? You normally keep such a close eye on- How did this happen?!" Shizune's face looked paler than normal as her thoughts tumbled out into words.
Sakura wiped her eyes with her hand, "You remember that mission Tsunade sent me on? The reconnaissance?"
"To Ame?"
"Yeah... it wasn't going particularly well. I didn't have any leads and it had been like two weeks and I decided that I needed to switch gears. I had to do something, Shizune." A look of understanding settled on the older woman's features. Sakura didn't need to explain what she meant. It was a cold fact of life for kunoichi everywhere, one that Shizune had to resort more than she'd have liked. Sakura let out a deep exhale before continuing.
"I-I didn't mean for it to go that far. I was at the bar, and he comes up and starts drinking. Then he bought me a drink and I thought, hell, it's just one. No big deal. A-and then we're talking and there's more drinking and before I know it, I'm waking up and he's-he's asleep in the bed and we're both naked and I just- I just ran, Shizune. I didn't know what else to do." The words came out in a jumble and she couldn't help but feel some modicum of relief at the admission.
Shizune's face went from shocked to angry and for a second Sakura thought she was going to start yelling again.
"Did he take advantage of you?"
"What? No! I just..." She had to choose her words very carefully from here on out, as even the tiniest slip up could lead down a dangerous path, "I just might've... had more drinks than I should have."
Shizune's eyebrow quirked up, "How much did you have?"
"I don't know. I do remember waking up and feeling awful, though."
Several moments of silence passed between the two women. Sakura watched as something clicked in Shizune's head before the brunette spoke again.
"I don't know Sakura, I've seen you drink and I don't think I've ever seen you hook up with a stranger after a few drinks. You're absolutely positive he didn't slip you something?"
"Shizune, I'm sure I would have noticed if I'd been drugged." The incredulous tone wasn't missed. She was still a shinobi damn it, not an invalid, she would have known, she was sure of it. Besides, she knew she'd had more than just a 'few' drinks. She had had more than she could handle, she could remember that.
She'd been far past tipsy when she'd asked him if he wanted to get out of there and she knew she had been absolutely blitzed when she had practically climbed him to kiss him.
'Oh god...I didn't...' But she had, and she could remember it very vividly now. She had kissed him.
For some reason, though it should seem a lot less substantial than sleeping with him, this fact made her even more sick.
Broken fragments of memory began to weave back together suddenly.
Her fingers trailing along his chest - strong arms wrapping around her middle - her thighs tightening around his hips - her hands traveling up, up, up until they'd tangled in his hair - her tongue in his mouth, sloppy and hot and way too eager to-
"Sakura...? Sakura?!"
Shizune's frantic voice broke through the haze and Sakura snapped back to attention, blinking to dispel the thought.
"What the hell was that? You just checked out on me there..." Shizune said, clearly concerned. Sakura let her gaze fall to the carpet to hide the flush growing on her face.
"Sorry Shizune... I guess I just... haven't been sleeping well lately." She mumbled to the floor.
"I'll bet." Shizune grabbed her hands, looking directly into her face, before speaking again. "Hey, look, it doesn't matter how it happened. But we do need to get you to Tsunade. Like right now. You can explain this to her yourself and let her give you a checkup."
The brunette broke her hold and started rooting through Sakura's closet for her jacket and a pair of shoes, "It's pretty chilly out today. Is this green sweater okay?"
Sakura just stared blindly ahead, her chest - previously torrential with pain - was now strangely numb.
"I'm getting rid of it, Shizune; I don't think a prenatal checkup is really going to matter."
The words came cold; distant and detached. She was surprised at how easy it had been to say out loud.
Shizune's back tensed slightly but relaxed quickly, "It doesn't matter what you do. The check-up would be for...both of you. Clearly you've been through a lot, locked up in this stuffy apartment." She tossed a pair of boots at Sakura's knees.
"Come on. Let's go before Tsunade sends a search party after me. She has been pretty much insufferable lately. And boy won't this just make her day, huh?" The brunette smiled and Sakura knew she was trying to make her feel better, but honestly, the only thing that would make her feel better was to have this problem dealt with for good.
Something in her tugged at the thought but really it was the only option. She could not have this child. She just couldn't. She figured that whatever grief she might have about it after the fact would be a necessary evil in order to prevent a much worse outcome.
For heaven's sake, what if the baby came out with blue skin and gills? How exactly was she supposed to explain that?! 'Oh, I have a grandmother on my father's side that's half fish!'?
Yeah, okay.
It had to be done, she had no choice. It would be the best thing for everyone. She feigned a smile that she hoped didn't portray the gnawing apprehension she felt inside and picked her boots up.
As they left the apartment, she knew exactly what she had to do and she would do it.
She just prayed that Tsunade would understand.
...
You force your fire and then you falsify your deeds;
Your methods dot the disconnect from all your creeds.
And fortune strives to fill the vacuum that it feeds;
But this is beginning to feel like the dog's lost the lead.
...