an: crossing my fingers the formatting works this time
10 hours after he has sent Sakura to rescue the company sent to distract Sasuke from the western line, she comes back.
Mostly. Almost.
Tenten, her customary buns fallen apart, her hair brushing the tops of her singed shoulders, is supporting the rag-doll body of Sakura. Shikamaru visually scans her for what injury could have caused this, but all he can spot is blood on her mouth, from where she apparently bit through her lip.
He only leaves his battle plans when Sakura starts to scream. It's an awful noise, high and reedy and so out of character from the gruff medic. What's worse, is that Sakura starts to scratch at her arms, her strength working against her as her fingertips leave red gouges in no time at all.
He runs to meet them, his shadows reaching out for her without him even needing to form the seals. He manages to bind her arms to the side, but he knows it won't hold long.
"Report." He barks. Tenten sniffles
"Uh- 4th company is dead, all by Uchiha Sasuke. Sakura managed to heal me, and went to engage with him- but he put her in some kind of genjutsu and it took me… hours to find an opportunity to get her out and run."
A rush of knife-sharp chakra by his side and the sound of a headband being slid up. Kakashi.
Sakura's eyes widen when she sees his sharingan and -gods above- the proudest woman he knows whimpers.
"Tsukuyomi." Kakashi whispers.
Shikamaru's first move in the after- other than drowning in memories- was to open the curtains and plan for war. Realistically, it would be safer to leave them closed, but the fever-sick air made his bedroom almost unbearable. Upon opening the windows, he lost time- running his eyes along the grooves in his desk where he and Choji, much to his mother's ire, had carved their names as kids. He was almost able to believe that he was still at a war table if not for the fact that there was the laughter of children in the distance, if not for the fact that his mother was singing, if not for the fact that he could hear both of those things. His hearing was fixed. Had the world always been this loud?
He only realized how long he had been trapped in his seat when Konoha's buildings started to reflect the low-hanging sun.
With a curse, Shikamaru shook his head as if to clear water from his ears, and snatched his pen and ink. He wrote furiously, writing in emotionless shorthand, but the nib of his pen gouged into the desk below when he reached his description of the war. Slipping into his cipher (the one he developed after Danzo's death for the use of the allied forces) was as easy as breathing.
Only one person alive besides himself knew it now, and the only other person smart enough to crack it was currently a boy-obsessed twelve year old. Thinking about the intricacies of proper cryptography allowed him to divorce himself from thoughts of the war, and he wrote about it like he was writing a mission report for another person, for a stranger. By the time he was writing about the last few years, his words were as halting and short as he could make them. He'd ask Sakura to look them over and add her own recollection anyway.
He knows the names of every man who dies under his command. He curses his memory some days, but with no grave stones and no one to give last rites, he is the one to hold the names of the dead in his hands.
He doesn't- should he even continue his practice of reciting the names of the dead, the closest thing he had to a ritual or a prayer? The names he held onto, they were being spoken by others again, were not even passed on yet. But they had died- he'd watched them, he'd heard them scream, did that not make them dead in one way or another? What was he supposed to do with the corpse ash tangled in his eyelids that only he could see, the wails that only he, despite his shitty hearing, could hear?
The paper caught fire, and Shikamaru swore.
Right. Amaterasu. He would be inclined to at least consider the possibility of it all being a dream, if not for the fact that he could feel his very chakra pathways altered by the goddess's intervention. He'd been changed again. Borne back to his earlier body, then transformed into something new. The only familiar thing was the tightness of his burn scar- that had followed him back into the past.
I want to see my mother. The thought broke his concentration with its absurdity. He supposed that some part of him really must be twelve, for him to have such ideas. His mother was a brilliant woman, but had almost nothing to do with politics or the shinobi arts. Proximity or connection with his mother would only jeopardize his mission- and her safety. He couldn't involve her in this. He couldn't involve anyone but Sakura in this.
The door opened with a bang, and Shikamaru panicked momentarily before remembering the sealing wards he set up would have only let in a member of his family. He rose to attention with a shaky lurch, his now-uncompromised balance throwing him off once more.
His father had come to see him. Shikaku was staring at him, and Shikamaru had no idea what the expression on his face could mean.
He must want me to give a report.
"Dad," He said, annoyed at himself for the lump in his throat, and stiffened to full attention. "I have recovered from my illness and should be ready to return to missions soon. I am no longer-"
His calm, dispassionate response was soon cut off by the one outcome Shikamaru's brilliant mind could not predict- his father immediately crushing him in an embrace.
"Never, ever do that again." Shikaku's voice, muffled as it was by Shikamaru's spiky hair, sounded suspiciously wet and that damned lump in his throat just seemed to swell more.
Was his father always so young, so old, so sad, so happy? Was he always so familiar, always such a stranger?
"What happened while I was dying?"
-"She's dying! ! If you don't bring Naruto here right now, she'll die!" Ino screams, the last to disobey his order to leave.
"I won't summon him. He will stay on the western front until the battle is won." Shikamaru feels like he's being pulled in a thousand different directions- the war tent calling his attention, the shadows connecting him to Sakura's twitching body.
"Shika, it's her only hope."
"Ino." He cuts her off before her words can make him any more dizzy. Sometimes he wishes he'd lost all of his hearing. There is no more birdsong to listen to, and what use does he have for the sounds of dying men? "We can't lose this. We can't lose that battle, and you know it."
She grits her teeth, but says nothing.
(He doesn't think she ever really forgave him for it.)-
His father winced at his words and Shikamaru simply tilted his head at him in confusion, attempting to push the all-too vivid memories down.
"Well uh, that girl refused to leave your side for a while. I was still at the shrine, and nothing the spirits were saying was making any sense-" He rubbed his face with a hand, and Shikamaru felt a twinge of guilt looking at how tired his father appeared. "But she was the one who came and found me to tell me your fever had broken. She was the first one who was- was sure that you would be okay. I called in the med-nin, and they signed off on it. I made her and your other friends leave and get some rest after that, but Naruto and Sakura demanded to see you after they finished with training today, and for some reason I thought that Sakura might win in that argument-"
"You would be right about that," Shikamaru muttered, with a fond roll of his eyes. "She's ridiculous."
"Hey, her comrade was injured." Shikaku stroked his goatee. "It's no easy matter. You haven't ever had a friend d- be hurt in front of you like that."
"No, I haven't." He said quietly, only when his father had turned to stare out the window.
"When you're in that situation then, you won't leave them either."
Shikamaru couldn't bring himself to lie again and said nothing more.
-Naruto wins the battle at the western front. The men are celebrating, but shikamaru does not. He plans the next bloodbath in the war tent, his hands still shaking even three cigarettes later, while elsewhere his friend fights for her life in a battle he made harder for her.
He does not go to visit her. There is still war to wage.
He lights another cigarette and wishes, not for the first time, that the smoke would burn a little more on the way down.-
He'd walked away from Sakura. He'd walked away from so many more.
She'd only been back for a few days, but Sakura was already losing her patience with team training.
They were at team 7's usual haunt of a training field, and she found herself drenched in sweat by noon- not from exhaustion, but from the air-melting heat and the stiffness of the stupid dress her younger self loved. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she surveyed the training ground, her nose irritated from the dust kicked up from some of Naruto's more exuberant attempts at maneuvers. The abundance of cicadas made the very grass rattle with life and white puffy clouds decorated a perfectly blue sky. She hoped she'd be able to drag Shikamaru out to watch them soon.
"Sakura," Kakashi called out, and she groaned and returned to the exercise she was supposed to be doing. It was exhausting constantly hiding her real knowledge, binding her true strength close to her chest, forcing her self down deep. Harder, however, was being around them.
Naruto was so unsure of himself, too small and too big all at once. Kakashi was so much younger than she had remembered him, and appeared absolutely lost when it came to teaching children.
And Sasuke-
centuries with him, in that mirror world/ knows his face- old and young again- better than her own/ he tortures her and-
No. None of that now. She was in a body that would not even have the chance of experiencing Tsukuyomi for years- there was no way for Sakura to be having one of her attacks. She rolled her shoulders, when their sensei called for sparring to begin. Sakura stepped lightly to the other side of the training field, Naruto and Kakashi somewhere behind her. Ahead was Sasuke, alone, facing them with a sneer. Like always.
there's a hand through Naruto's chest and she swears she's seen it before/ sasuke always promised it was real/ there's a hand through sasuke's chest but she is the one who put it there/ in the real world she has control she
"Alright. You guys spar, winner fights Naruto, then we go home." Kakashi waved a flippant glove, but Sakura's gaze was locked on the Uchiha. Her sensei taught her never to take her eyes off of a threat, after all. "Spirits know, I'm done for the day."
Sakura fought the urge to scoff. She had no use for spirits, no use for gods. And she was pretty sure Kakashi, who'd seen war more than anything else, didn't either.
/even when she has escaped the mirror world/ shards of it are broken off in her skull/ tsunade would say nerve damage but tsunade is dead and sakura knows they're there/ they rattle sometimes/ she has seizures/ she has days where she doesn't know what is real/ she stabs a kunai through her palm and smells blood and knows she's alive/
Gritting her teeth to focus herself- not now, she can't lose herself now- Sakura refocused on Sasuke. He nodded. She did not return the gesture.
He had not even finished settling into a stance when Sakura started to run towards him, angling herself so that the sun would be in his eyes. He wasn't taking her seriously, but she liked it better that way.
/trust only that that rends flesh, she tells the sky/
He screamed as Sakura's kunai slid halfway into the muscle of his right arm, disabling it with a ripping noise. Kakashi was yelling something, but all of Sakura's attention was focused on Sasuke, who with a curse, activated his sharingan, the tomoe spinning and spinning and spinning and-
/kills her again and again and the world spins/ his hand is nestled in her small intestine, just above her uterus and she can feel his pulse in a place she never wanted him /GET OUT/ GET OUT GET
Sakura came to shuddering, Kakashi's gloved hand tugging her arm back. Below her, Sasuke was wheezing, and for a second, the red of his eyes made her wince, until she realized it was from blood vessels popping in his eyes rather than sharingan. She was choking him, and he was about to pass out.
She didn't get to see the light leave his eyes though- maybe that was a gift she'd only get once. It was Naruto, surprisingly, that finally pulled her back.
"Sakura- holy shit- Sakura, Stop," he begged. And she did. Maybe in response to the desperation in his voice, maybe because some part of her will always see him as her hokage, but she stepped back from Sasuke, shaking off Kakashi.
"Sorry, sensei. I got a little carried away." She said, breathlessly. Well, the coughing boy she'd left in the dirt was a little more breathless, but Sakura's breaths were shallow and uneven, though she schooled her face into indifference. She didn't bother to put on any airs- no one would believe them. "I'm going to go home for the night."
Refusing to face whatever horror her sensei's expressions must be displaying at the moment, she turned and walked with purpose from the field. Focusing on keeping her strides steady took most of her energy, as the other half of her whirled at just how close she had gotten to ruining their plan. She hadn't realized how much she still hated Uchiha, even after breaking his bones, even after holding his heart in her hand, even after burning him.
/she still sees his face when she closes her eyes- feels his /tongue/ licking a trail of blood off her neck hears the words he whispered with sharp teeth, hot breath on her ear/ she still feels his hands / she's burned him dead and he's still there / hands on her/ he's still touching her he's still in her he's still there/
She hated Sasuke Uchiha more than war, more than Danzo, more than the trenches. She hated Sasuke Uchiha with the same certainty of the sun rising each morning.
A few hours later, she slipped into Naruto's tiny apartment through the loose window. She told herself it was so she could add security seals, but it was more likely because she'd been beset by visions of Sasuke killing Naruto the second she left the field. This way, she could see him with her own eyes, feel the warmth of his skin against hers. Sakura couldn't trust anything but reality right in front of her.
The apartment was dark, with the late afternoon sun hanging just below the threadbare blinds, and none of the lights on. Naruto had once told her that the majority never worked- he had the refrigerator's light and the sun, and that was it. The linoleum was cracked, the neighbors shifty, and the smell of stale air almost made her sneeze.
She could hear Naruto humming from the small hallway next to the bathroom.
Really, she should leave. She had no reason to be here, and this Naruto had just watched her almost kill their teammate so showing up out of nowhere wasn't exactly the friendliest of gestures. But-
/Sasuke grins as the light leaves Naruto's eyes and she screams and screams and/
Sakura needed to see him.
Naruto was leaning against a wall, frowning at his torn orange jumpsuit and wounds on his legs. He made to pull up the ragged fabric, but winced as his raw palms brushed against the tears.
"Did Sasuke do this to you?" She asked, and Naruto jumped.
"Sakura! Wha- no! Sasuke didn't, so please don't go after him, he's already scared enough-"
"Good," Sakura crossed her arms. Naruto gave her an unimpressed glare from the floor.
"Anyway, no he didn't. It was-" He bit his lip. "Not important."
If there was anything that Sakura knew how to do, it was look after a stubborn Naruto. She rubbed her fist into his hair playfully, earning a sharp "hey!" from the blonde. She grabbed his extremely limited med kit from under the sink, and peered over his wounds. They were surface level abrasions, but Sakura was too big for this body and her fears were too big to match the wounds.
"While I fix you up, you're going to tell me what happened." She said matter of fact, holding him down with one hand while she stitched up a cut with the other. "And hold still!"
"Ow, ow, fine! It was just- yknow, guy in town. It's stupid." He muttered, shifting uncomfortably. She frowned. Part of her had forgotten just how shitty this village was to Naruto before Pain.
Fuck it. The anger was starting to fester again, her friend was in pain, and she could heal this. She could. Almost on autopilot, she summoned healing chakra, a green glow hovering over Naruto's wounds and casting his whiskers into sharp relief in the semi-darkness of the apartment.
"God, it was so hot today, right? Reminded me of when we were on our way back from the Land of Tea and Sasuke pushed me into that hot spring-" He cut himself off, and in the silence, Sakura realized two things. He showed no reaction at all to her healing, and they hadn't gone to the Land of Tea yet. Naruto's eyebrows drew together in consternation. She didn't dare to say a single thing, worried that she will shatter her hopes like glass.
"I-" he says slowly "Sakura, I keep- I keep remembering things that don't happen. And I know things that I shouldn't- can't know."
He looked at her, his eyes brimming with tears, and she knew that what she should do is laugh, laugh and say that she had no idea what he was talking about, push him away and keep him safe. But she couldn't.
"Sakura, I remember being older. I remember people I've never met, and I feel all these things that I have no reason to feel, but I can't- I don't know if it really happened or-"
"We need to talk to Shikamaru."