!Hola! Les quiero decir que aprecio mucho sus comentarios—they make my day! Si quise publicar otro capítulo más pronto pero no tuve nada de motivación, perdonen me.
Thank you for the nice comments! The last review I got gave me the motivation to post another chapter.
As always, please ignore any errors.
And another tw because Sakura's going through it.
Chapter 5
One month later…
The past month has been one of the most restful periods of Sakura's life to date.
Hanako and Mirio are incredibly kind to her and don't let her do much else besides get up to go to the bathroom. They vehemently refuse the money Sakura tries to offer them that she has left over from Tori, even though the few coins are barely enough for a measly meal.
They feed her whatever she wants, so much so that she has gained twenty pounds so far.
"Another ten pounds, Sakura, and you'll be at a good weight for being six months pregnant," Hanako remarks once, looking approvingly at Sakura.
Time and time again, Sakura wonders at their kind and selfless deeds, but there seems to be no malicious intent behind their actions, so she doesn't worry much. Moreover, Sakura often sees Hanako gaze at Sakura with a contemplative expression, half compassionate and half introspective. She guesses there is a story there, hidden griefs, but Sakura knows not to pry—Hanako will tell her when she is ready. Hanako otherwise is a steady presence, something she shares with her son, but a cranky one. She is always quick to reprimand Sakura and Mirio alike—Sakura for trying to constantly get out of bed and help her run the house, and Mirio for well, she doesn't really know what she nags Mirio about. Sakura quickly figures out that that's just how Hanako shows affection.
Miro, on the other hand, is a constant, soothing presence. He is a quiet individual, who often seeks solitude, but doesn't mind when Sakura seeks him out for a chat. He is first to give her a smile, albeit a somewhat shy one and last to dismiss himself from a conversation with her. The fresh fruits and veggies from the nearby market that she always finds in her meals are his doing, she knows. Sakura mostly only sees him in the evenings because he works part time at the nearby smithee's, while Hanako works at the house.
The house itself is big, but homely. Outside, tall, leafy trees surround the two-story structure and she learns later that because they are sitting almost at the border between the Land of Rain and the drier Land of Sand the climate is lush and warm, but not suffocating. Pictures of Hanako and Mirio dot the entire house (Sakura later learns that Mirio has a picture-taking hobby) including their big shaggy dog, Pumpkin. The dog is enormous, but so sweet. Sakura met her a few days after she awoke from her fever and the dog had taken an immediate liking to her. Pumpkin had introduced herself by jumping on the tiny bed, zooming in on Sakura's face with her giant tongue. Hanako had tried to pull Pumpkin off of her, grumbling to the dog all the while, but immediately stopped when she saw Sakura laughing and spluttering, hugging the dog around her thick neck in order to get her to calm down. Sakura always loved dogs, she had told Hanako, trying not to think of how they reminded her of Kakashi. From then on, Pumpkin could usually be found glued to Sakura's side. At night, when she shoves herself into Sakura's twin bed, she helps with the nightmares.
And the best thing about their five bedroom house, sitting picturesque-like on ten acre land?
It's a small strawberry farm!
Sakura had been overjoyed when they mentioned that little tidbit. About one week after she arrives, she starts craving strawberries with a passion. Ever since she had eaten them in her oatmeal, really.
They supply her with as many as she wants when they realize her craving.
…
Her body is rested, but her mind is plagued.
Shock staves off trauma until it doesn't.
Her body, now healed for the most part, but traumatized for months on end is at a disconnect with her mind. Terror crumbles away at her resolve at night when she thrashes against restraints binding her to a blood-soaked wall, terror keeping her suffocated in sleep.
She learns to turn her face into her pillow to muffle her screams so as to not awake the household anymore. Hanako can't keep losing sleep and getting up to check on her over Sakura's nightmares.
Pumpkin whines sadly and huddles closer to her side, laying her head on top of Sakura's as if she knows that her mind is the center of all her dread.
...
Hanako's knitting needles clack away as Mirio reads the story from a tattered old book on his lap.
He's finishing the story about the dragon for her. They are all really just children's stories that all have a happy ending, but that's why Sakura enjoys them so much.
Just as Mirio is coming to the end of the story, Sakura lets out a sharp gasp and her hand shoots to her stomach, covered by one of Hanako's old yukatas.
Was that…?
A small fluttering skitteres across her belly again.
Hanako drops her knitting and Mirio stops reading immediately, both looking at her with concern. Hanako rushes over, hovering over Sakura. "What is it, Sakura? Is it the baby."
Tears prick Sakura's eyes as she blinks rapidly. "I'm okay. We're fine. I just—" she shudders. "I think the baby just moved." Relief and overwhelming joy courses through Sakura. Although she could constantly feel her baby's heartbeat, this past month she has feared terribly. Fears because although she can make sure her child lives, she can not know if what they have endured during the past four months has done irreparable damage in other developmental areas.
"Oh," Sakura breathes. She feels the same sensation across her stomach and jumps. "Oh, Hanako! The baby moved!" She laughs, tenderly holding her now much larger midsection. "There they go again! Feel!" She snaps out her arm and tugs Hanako's hand over to her rounded abdomen. She looks into Hanako's face, her features having softened into a joyous smile too. "See? Mirio, come feel! Quickly!" Mirio hurries over and crouches by her. He places a tentative hand on Sakura's belly just as the baby kicks again. Mirio's smile mirrors his mother's. Pumpkin gazes at her with her large puppy brown eyes and wags her tail excitedly next to her, tongue lolling out of an open mouth.
Sakura's earnestly crying now, but for once, they are tears of joy.
"Well, why are you crying girl?" Hanako barks, back to her old self.
"Because I'm happy."
Hanako sighs, resigned. "There, there now." She pats her shoulder gently. "Everything's okay now."
And for once, everything actually is.
…
The nightmares still weave through her hours of unconsciousness, but less so after that.
See, she tells them triumphantly as they creep closer while she sleeps. There is life there yet.
..
"Hanako, please!" Sakura begs one particularly insufferable afternoon, letting her voice drag at the word please. "Let me help you with something, please? I'm going crazy just sitting in my room doing nothing."
Hanako keeps at her task, completely unperturbed by Sakura's whining. "I gave you knitting equipment. Go do that."
"I'm terrible at knitting! You saw that garbage I managed to create."
Hanako nods unhelpfully. "Yes, it was a nice hat."
"It was supposed to be a sock!"
"Oh, was it?" Hanako replies absentmindedly, tilting her head in Sakura's direction but keeping her focus on her task. This had worked before to get Sakura out of her hair, but not today!
Sakura folds her arms and rests them atop her full belly (she had been ecstatic when she realized her stomach was now big enough to do that). She goes quiet and glowers at Hanako until she finally sighs and spears Sakura with a put-upon look. Pumpkin sits at Sakura's feet, intermittently switching between panting and gazing between her and Hanako.
"Sakura, I don't want you to stress yourself by doing work that your body isn't ready for," Hanako supplies, turning back to her task.
Sakura's not finished yet, though. "I'm not asking you to go out and help with the harvest, I just want something simple to do, really. Pumpkin's great company and all, but I can only talk to her for so long before I start to feel as if I'm insane for doing it."
"What about those books that Mirio brought you? Have you read them all?"
"Yes, and I need something to do with my hands. I know I don't look it right now, but I was actually a very active person." Sakura tries not to think wistfully of her active lifestyle before. She would get there again, feel her toned muscles beneath her skin, soon.
Hanako peers at her, contemplating Sakura's hopeful face and her request, and finally gives in. "Fine," she barks and shoves the cutting board she had been working over into Sakura's eager hands. "You can help me dice the strawberries for the pies, you pest. Cut them exactly how I did, or else!" Hanako sells delicious pies for extra money when what Mirio brings in isn't enough. This only adds to Sakura's guilt, seeing as she is now an extra mouth to feed. The thought sometimes keeps her up at night.
Sakura salutes, grinning triumphantly. "Yes, ma'am." She grabs a knife from the counter and hurries over to a chair by the dining room table before Hanako changes her mind.
Pumpkin follows, like always, and Sakura bends down, placing a hand on either side of her giant, shaggy face to reassure her quietly before getting to work. "This isn't about you, Pumpkin, I just want you to know that. You really are wonderful company, and you are a perfect listener. I just needed to tell Hanako something so she'd let me help. I love you." Pumpkin wags her tail the whole time and then licks Sakura's cheek eagerly when she finishes talking.
"Huh, maybe you did need to get out of that room," Hanako remarks sardonically, watching Sakura and Pumpkin pointedly.
Sakura goes to wash her hands and gets to work, slicing a few strawberries carefully, just like Hanako told her, with a watchful Hanako looking over her back. Eventually, Hanako deems Sakura competent enough to slice strawberries on her own and goes to work on the crust.
Sakura tempts fate and asks, "Will you teach me how to make the whole pie too, Hanako?"
"Yes, I suppose," Hanako grouses.
Sakura smiles and pops a freshly sliced piece of strawberry into her mouth.
This is how Mirio finds Sakura two hours later after he arrives from work, covered in flour and reeking of baked goods. Sakura grins at him, showing him her pile of sliced strawberries and presenting him with a freshly baked pie she made just for him and Hanako.
He grins back at her conspiratorially and gives her a thumbs up, knowing that she had been planning on making her proposal to Hanako today.
His eyes say that he had had no doubts that she would have succeeded.
…
One day, Hanako finds her hyperventilating in the laundry room. Her guest has just left after purchasing a box of strawberries—a kindly old man who uses a cane to walk.
The sound slams into her over and over again, the initial clunk so sudden that her body panics and her mind drags her back to her cell. He's coming closer, the sound of the cane a forewarning.
Sakura's bent double as violent, after violent image burst behind her clenched eyes.
It wasn't that, she pleads to herself.
Her mind knows it now, but her body doesn't. It shakes with tension, expecting pain and cold, dark eyes.
She flinches from Hanako's arm as it reaches to steady her.
Hanako slowly draws her hand back.
Get it under control, she growls at herself. She clenches her hands in her hair and breathes in slowly. The stress isn't good for the baby.
Hanako leans slowly against the far wall of the room and gazes at her with hooded eyes.
What must she think of her?
Broken thing.
A soft sound reaches her through her terror.
Hanako's humming something soft and slow. A lullabye.
Sakura hooks onto the winding melody and lets the notes unravel her waking nightmare. They pull her back.
"Forgive me," Sakura says shakily. "I…" she trails off, not being able to explain yet.
"Don't apologize, Sakura," Hanako replies, voice heavy with emotion.
Sakura looks at her warily. "I don't need pity," she says a little unkindly. Although, she doesn't mean to sound standoffish, but maybe that is pity in Hanako's eyes.
Sakura's working on it, but she refuses to not be mended. This is not weakness, only perseverance of fear. She knows weakness, and this is not it.
"It wasn't planning on giving it," Hanako replies in a steady tone. "Only time."
Pity is not what she finds in Hanako's eyes, she sees that now. It is only sympathy for a friend.
Sakura nods and straightens, her body drenched in sweat.
"Come," Hanako commands, turning to go. "I need help peeling potatoes for tonight's dinner.
Sakura shakily follows.
…
"Here, girl," Hanako says in her usual gruff manner. She slaps down a handful of bills in front of Sakura. "For the pies you made."
Sakura is quick to reject the money, pushing it as far away as she can across the wooden table. "No. I'm not taking money for that. I help with the pies as a way to help you, Hanako. I won't take money from you after everything you have done for me. I thought that was implied."
"You need clothes for that baby, don't you? And the clothes I gave you really don't do you any favors." Hanako is turned away as she berates Sakura. "Just take the money, fool. Your pies sell better than mine anyway." Well, that was a beautiful compliment coming from Hanako.
Sakura frowns at Hanako's back, wanting to argue more, but knowing exactly the reasoning behind Hanako offering her the money.
Really, she isn't in any need of it. Everything she needs, she is given, but Hanako is right in commenting on the lack of clothes for her baby. Hanako knows that Sakura is a prideful one, and that being so, she will not allow Hanako or Mirio to take on yet another burden, no matter how small. Hanako has saved Sakura some pride by giving her a job in the house where she can earn money of her own, and therefore she does not have to ask for more than they are already giving.
Hanako has already started to knit some baby clothes for her, but there is only so much time in the day after running the farm and babies grow out of clothes so fast.
Yes, she needs to buy baby clothes and as Hanako said, clothes that would fit her right as well.
Still, Sakura reluctantly stretches out her arm and gathers the money in her fist. Then she abruptly beams at the thought of actually reaching a point in her pregnancy where she is anticipating buying clothes for her baby. Her eyes sting with the gathering of tears. She doesn't remember being this much of a crybaby since she was six. Must be the hormones.
"Ask Mirio to take you to the market tomorrow. He'll show you around." Hanako adds, turning around to face Sakura. "Oh, for goodness sake! Don't cry!"
…
The next day, Mirio accompanies her to the market. She ties a scarf around her hair to cover the pink strands as a precaution. She's never ventured away from the farmhouse to the small village down the road the month that she's been there, so she needs to be cautious for any signs of trouble.
Miro looks at her covered hair quizzically, but doesn't comment.
The day is temperate, sunny and warm when they walk out. Sakura takes a deep breath of the heady spring air and tilts her face towards the sun as Mirio makes his way out of the doorway.
Mirio offers Sakura his arm as they make their way down the road to the bustling market.
The result of his offer is probably because he's noticed her slight waddle. She noticed the unfortunate change in her gait about two weeks ago.
Sakura groans internally—vanity is a tough companion—and takes his hand, hooking their elbows together. They pass various buildings and dwellings on their way and Sakura finds herself surprised; the town is much bigger than she remembered.
Then again, she had been a tad delusional when she had first ended up here.
Market street is not very big, nothing but two rows of about ten stalls set up parallel to each other, but Mirio guides her instead to a storefront just a stone's throw away from the bustling market. They enter a building displaying clothing from the window through a glass door. The bell above the doorway jingles as they enter, drawing the attendant's attention.
"Hello there! What can I do for you today?" Says a pink-cheeked, balding man at the counter.
Sakura lets Mirio take the lead and tries to stand partially behind him, turning her face slightly to the side. Honestly, being out in populated areas is making her anxiety skyrocket. She feels her palms start to sweat and the scars on her back tweak.
"Hello, we're just looking for the baby clothes, sir. Preferably for newborns, if you have any." Mirio asks politely.
The pink cheeked man claps his hands together, looking at Sakura jovially. "Ah, but of course! I see you have a little one on the way, ma'am. Yes, yes, this way please."
Sakura takes a deep breath to steady her nerves and fixes a slight smile on her face when the kind old man looks at her again after pointing out the section they needed. There is no need for her fight or flight response—her heart trying to beat out of her chest, no need—, everything is fine.
Danzo is not here. Root is not here. She—they—are far away from those who want to do her harm.
Mirio is here, arm tucked against hers and this kindly old man is here, too.
Everything is okay. Sakura grits her teeth. That bastard Danzo will not take everything from her; this is a happy day, buying clothes for a child that someone had intended only cruelty for, a "fuck you" to Danzo who tried his hardest to make sure they didn't live.
Sakura's breath eases and she manages to let go of her nervousness for the meantime. The store attendant's attention is drawn to someone else who just entered the store.
Her and Mirio spend about twenty minutes picking out several outfits for her baby, before she moves on to find clothes for herself. She only picks out about a couple things before they head to the counter to pay.
The old man rings them up and neatly folds their purchases into a paper bag before waving them a cheery goodbye. "There you are, dears! And might I say that you two make a lovely couple and congratulations on the addition to the family."
Sakura starts, and before she can correct him, the attendant is once again drawn away by another visiting couple.
Sakura stands there, flabbergasted, her arm still outstretched from receiving the bag from the old man, before Mirio nudges her to the exit, taking the bag from her.
Of course! She's so idiotic! She should have known what people—strangers— would assume when looking at her and Mirio together. She should have thought of this sooner!
Mostly, she's mortified for Mirio's sake. She slowly turns to gauge his reaction, to find him relaxed and, as normal, with a slight smile on his face, blonde hair glinting in the sunlight, as if the world was exactly as he wished it would be and nothing could be a tad off. He's not even looking at her.
Still, she feels the need to apologize. "I'm sorry, Mirio. I should have known what people would think, seeing us together." She looks up at him again, wanting to see his reaction to her words.
His smile widens, and a slight flush enters his cheeks. "Oh, that? I don't mind, Sakura, really. Like you said, it is only normal that people would assume. Honestly, it's probably better to let people think what they want, don't you think? If it doesn't bother you, that is? Or we could also say you're my cousin, if it makes you feel better . For your safety, we probably shouldn't tell them how you actually came to be in our house."
For her safety, huh? Mirio's not a simpleton and neither is Hanako for that matter. They would have derived that Sakura's condition upon finding her was not one that would happen if she wasn't running from someone or something. She wonders if they would still offer her a roof to sleep under if they knew the extent of her misfortune and that she was literally public enemy no. 1 in Konoha.
Sakura smiles back. "No, I don't mind." She replies softly.
But she does mind, at least a part of her does. Mirio is not the father of her child, that title belongs to someone far, far away, someone who doesn't even know he is going to be a father.
We should just forget that it ever happened, Sakura. I'm sorry it did happen.
Someone who might not even want to be a father.
Someone who might not ever even get the chance to decide.
She studies Mirio again, looks at his contentment, at his profile. He is so strong, but soft and kind in a way that matters in any good person. If she could pick a father for her child, she knows Mirio would be anyone's ideal person...but her heart aches when she looks at him, because he is not who she wishes could be beside her at that very exact moment, holding her hand.
It was a mistake.
Those hollow words return to her and she squeezes Mirio's hand as a lump forms in her throat. He looks at her quizzically, but doesn't comment.
She is so thankful for what she has found and she will make the most of it.
…
One of Sakura's favorite hobbies currently, is staring at herself in the mirror, half naked. Now while this might sound classically narcissistic, the intention behind is absolutely not. She doesn't stare at her face, or shapely hips, but at her round, so wonderfully round, belly.
When her thoughts turn to despair, to depression at what they have gone through, her memories shuffle, each like a punch to the gut, and usually end up at one of her worst. See, she remembers the horror of what she looked like when she looked at herself in the mirror after four months of imprisonment.
The shock had been overwhelming.
She was skeletal, bulging at the middle in a grotesque imitation of pregnancy. Her cheeks hollow, sharp in an extremely unhealthy manner, elbows bony angles at her side, the bones of her knees defined over pale, stretched skin. Her back was—and still is—a ropy maze of pink scarring.
So, yes, she looks at herself in the mirror often, thirty-five pounds later and runs a hand over her stomach over and over again. Healthy undertones of pink now hue her skin, and she meets her own bright eyes in the mirror. Most people would despair at gaining so much weight, even during pregnancy, but she relishes in it because she knows first hand the opposite, the fear of loss and hopelessness. She grins as her little one kicks her hands and sings a soft lullaby until her child settles again.
Oh, this will be a wonderful memory. She ingrains it into her brain, makes it stick, to combat the nightmares sure to come.
…
She's rosy cheeked, robust health incarnate as she looks at her body in the mirror. She smiles, grazing a hand softly across her protruding belly.
Her body fractures.
Looking at her reflection, she's suddenly, violently, changed. Dearth looks back at her with hollow eyes.
…
A shuttering click sounds to the right of her. Sakura rolls her eyes and turns in the kitchen chair she is sitting in, knowing that Hanako is right next to her without looking. Even though Mirio is the one with the picture-taking hobby, it's always Hanako taking the impromptu pictures of her. Miriro always asks before he takes a picture of her.
She is currently covered in flour.
Sakura gives Hanako a stony look.
Hanako grins at her and then immediately berates Sakura, as she tends to do. "You should be thanking me, you know. Pregnancy is something you should have memories of. You'll be thanking me one day, mark my words, for taking these pictures of you. You'll want the memories."
"Sure, sure," Sakura sighs in an exaggerated breath, turning back to her work.
It might take years for Sakura to realize, but Hanako is right.
…
Sakura's on the couch, seven months into her pregnancy, rubbing Pumpkin's belly with her bare feet, because she can't bend over anymore to do it with her hands, when Mirio walks in through the front door.
Pumpkin, tail wagging, jumps up to greet him as he struggles through the door, back first. Sakura wiggles to her feet and goes to investigate as Mirio continues to huff and puff.
Finally he comes through the door carrying a beautiful bassinet and a metal frame. The frame of the bassinet is covered in embroidered cream-colored cotton and the metal stand is equally matched in fine craftsmanship. She knows without having to ask, that this was Mirio's and Hanako's handiwork. This must be why he had been staying late to work at the smithee's.
Mirio meets Sakura's eyes and she let's her gratitude be spoken through them because she just can't find the words.
…
There's a line of people making their way past the house, all wearing white clothing. Most of them are weeping. Only two pallbearers are needed for the small coffin.
A memory of Kakashi comes to her, as they so often do, watching the funeral procession through her window.
The memory is not a distasteful one, but it is tinted with sadness.
She had been seventeen and had just lost a patient, a young boy, who she had been treating for a year. The mother of the child had invited her to the funeral and the subsequent candlelit wake through the streets to the graveyard.
Halfway through the walk, Sakura's legs had given out and she had slumped on the stairs of a storefront, exhausted with grief. The small boy's smile flashed through her mind a hundred times over. She'd grown attached, the exact opposite of what Tsunade had instructed. She couldn't help her emotions, though—someone's child was dead.
The procession had passed her by, but still she sat without moving until she felt a presence sit beside her.
She turned her head slightly to the side to find Kakashi slouching next to her, munching on something underneath his mask, and looking for all the world as if he had decided that sitting on a concrete stair next to a depressed seventeen year old was exactly what he had intended for his day.
"Yo," he had greeted.
"Hey," Sakura had croaked. She had half a mind to tell him to fuck off. She hated an audience to her tears. She knew, though, that he was only trying to give her comfort in the only stunted way he knew how.
As it turned out, his silent, but steady presence was exactly what she had needed. Her tears stopped for the meantime and her breathing evened.
"Would seeing my face make you feel better?" He asked nonchalantly.
Sakura side-eyed him, suspiciously. "Maybe."
Kakashi sighed despondently, making his way to his feet. "Well, a maybe's not a yes. Maybe some other day, no?" He held out a hand to her.
Sakura grasped the outstretched hand, a small smile making her lips twitch despite herself. "But a maybe's not a no either."
He started walking away and Sakura remembers running after him, grouching the whole way about his constant teasing.
Her cheek almost lifts in a half-smile and she turns away from the window.
…
She's being nosy, she knows, but she just happens to walk by the front window when she spots the event unfolding. She's curious about Mirio's reaction.
A beautiful girl stands outside talking to Mirio. She holds a box of fresh strawberries behind her back. Sakura surmises that she has just bought the box, as the local villagers often do when they want fresh strawberries, but this one is lingering in a most obvious way. The way that she holds the box behind her back makes her breasts strain against the low neckline of her shirt.
Mirio doesn't seem to notice the girl's obvious infatuation and cheerily waves goodbye before making his way back inside.
Sakura quickly pretends to look busy, as if she hasn't just been nosing around.
"Who was that?" She asks offhandedly.
"Oh, just a regular patron," Mirio replies lightly. "She loves our strawberries."
"She seemed friendly," Sakura sniffs, looking to sound casual.
"Yeah, she's very nice." Sakura rolls her eyes at his reply and actually gets to work. Sometimes Mirio could be so obtuse.
Sakura clenches her teeth and claws at her covers in simmering anger while she sleeps later that night.
Ugh!
What a disquieting feeling that she can now put a name to, two years later.
Jealousy.
Gut-churning, blood-boiling, jealousy.
She watches Kakashi with a grimace as he unashamedly flirts with a busty blonde.
Straight ahead. In front of The Wobbly Shuriken.
Right in her line of sight.
How unseemly, she thinks, sniffing disapprovingly, to be doing this in broad daylight, in public nonetheless. When he is, at the moment, supposed to be meeting her and Naruto for a fucking mission.
Back then she had thought her righteous anger only that—her right to be angry because instead of being on time to meet her, there he was, flirting with some hussy.
Before she can think, her anger guides her stomping feet over to the two. She stops right in front of them, making sure to make her presence known by kicking up as much dirt as possible when she stops.
Kakashi turns his head and blinks slowly at her as his blonde companion starts with her unexpected arrival. "Can I help you?"
The audacity!
"Sensei," Sakura says, teeth clenched in a grin promising later suffering. "If you're not too busy, I believe we have a mission to depart for. Right. Now."
Kakashi gazes at her with half-lidded eyes. "Actually, I was busy."
She reaches out and grasps his arm in a death grip, one that says, just wait, just you wait until there are no witnesses. "Too motherfucking bad, Sensei," she says sweetly under her breath so his companion does not hear, he probably read her lips more than heard her anyway. His eyes widen slightly in fear before he clears his throat and straightens away from his "friend".
Before he can make his excuses, the blonde interrupts. "Oh my, are you his little teammate, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart!? Bitch is only like two years older than her!
Oblivious to Sakura's hell-raising glare, she keeps talking. "Well, I shouldn't keep you from your job, Kashi dear. Go teach your little teammate."
Kakashi, sensing her impending explosion, quickly (and wisely) steps between them. He leans in closer to her face so they are a hairsberth away from touching. "I'll see you later, Rangiko."
Rangiko flushes a pretty pink and giggles as Sakura, on the fucking verge, finally pulls Kakashi away as Rangiko steps back inside the Wobbly. Sakura unwittingly compares herself to that woman and the thought that she only manages to look like she's sick when she flushes red quickly materializes in her head.
"Get laid on your own time, Kakashi," Sakura growls back at a trailing Kakashi. With all the searching Sakura did around Konoha, they are now an hour late in leaving.
"In case you missed that conversation you so rudely interrupted, I will" Kakashi responds, unperturbed, "later."
Sakura swivels around on her heel, bringing them both to an abrupt halt. She meets his unconcerned gaze. "Then let me explain in a clearer manner so you will understand," Sakura hisses. She punctures the next words in her sentence with gestures from her hand and talks patronizingly slow, "Complete the actions leading up to you getting laid on your own time."
"What's this about getting laid?" Asks Naruto, who of course arrives right at the best moment. Sakura had sent him off in another direction to search for Kakashi, so they could get on with their mission.
"Ask him," Sakura snaps, jabbing a finger in Kakashi's direction.
Kakashi only shrugs and pulls out Icha Icha. "I was talking to a lovely lady when Sakura rudely interrupted."
Sakura splutters. "I-rudely? We are now an hour and a half late, thanks to you!"
Naruto nods his head sagely. "I have to agree with Sakura, Sensei...although, I mean, like, how hot was she?"
"Do you know Rangiko? The bartender at the Wobbly? She used to be chunin." Kakashi asks, with a smug expression in his eyes.
"The-?" Naruto raises an intrigued eyebrow and imitates large round globes on his upper chest.
Sakura thinks a blood vessel pops in her eye.
"The very one," Kakashi sighs, an idiotic, moronic, half smile in his stupid, stupid face.
Naruto quickly turns to Sakura as they start walking again. "Oh, Sakura, you shouldn't have interrupted! That's like a once in a lifetime chance. I mean—Rangiko!"
"Don't worry," Kakashi hurriedly reassures Naruto, "I'm meeting up with her after we finish our mission."
"What are you going to use to knock her out with?" Sakura snaps, mood sour enough to curdle milk.
Naruto, despite his obvious fascination with the big-boobed bartender, bursts out laughing at Sakura's comment. He snorts and chortles his way up to the gate.
Kakashi, damn bastard, not only doesn't react at all to her comment implying that no sane woman would sleep with him, but smiles again and goes back to his book.
Sakura grits her teeth and shuts up, nothing to do but stew in her anger.
Later, after the mission, she can't help but think of Kakashi and Big Boobs together. Like together, together.
The Sakura currently in bed at Hanako's house, the one that's asleep, grips the sheets tighter until they tear a bit. Pumpkin whines next to her.
In the morning, she wakes up in an unusually bad mood.
…
A commotion at the front door draws Sakura from the kitchen, where she's working on a pie. She walks over to the living room to find two of Mirio's friends, said Mirio with an arm draped over each of their shoulders, supporting him as he hops in on one foot. Hanako, having been on the living room couch when the group had walked in, is already making room so Mirio's friends can deposit him on the couch.
Sakura rushes— well waddles— over to Mirio as fast as possible. She notices the bloody bandage on his right leg. "What happened?"
"Hey, Sakura," says Yoshinori, a black-haired man about Mirio's age. Sakura had only met his friends about a couple times since she's been at the house. They are friendly, but Sakura doesn't interact with them much past a quick hello. They stuck to the cousin story with Hanako's and Mirio's friends after all.
"An accident at the smith's," Mirio explains through gritted teeth.
"Oh, Mirio," Hanako says anxiously. She crouches, hovering around Mirio's injured leg, not knowing how to help him.
Mirio looks at his mother, eyes hooded with worry. "I won't be able to work at the smithee's or on the farm for a while, mom."
Hanako pats his knee from her crouched position, trying to assuage his work as well as hers. "We'll worry about that when we get to it, Mirio. We have to get you feeling better first."
Sakura watches and bites her lip, contemplating.
Hanako turns back to Yoshinori and Chang, who had been lingering in case they were needed again. "Thank you, boys. I think we can take it from here."
"Yes, ma'am," they both mumble before making their way to the door. Sakura says a quick goodbye, distracted by Mirio's wound.
"Oh, Mirio," Hanako sighs again. "Let me see if we have any arnica to at least help with infection and swelling. We have some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom too. We might need to take you to the local healer for stitches too, although I'd rather not. You know that her remedies aren't always reliable…"
"Wait," Sakura interrupts before Hanako can leave the room. There's no way, having the abilities Sakura has, that she will allow Mirio to suffer from a wound she can heal in seconds—not after everything they have done for her. This might be a night for truths, but so be it. "Actually, Hanako, Just bring me the rubbing alcohol, please. Mirio, let me see your leg. Elevate it, yeah, right here." She guides Mirio's leg up onto a cushion and with great effort, she makes her way down to her knees. A dark stain is already saturating the makeshift bandage that Mirio's friends managed to tie on.
"Sakura, what-?" Hanako asks, stymied.
"I'll explain, I promise, Hanako, but Mirio is bleeding too much from the wound and I need to stem the flow quickly." Hanako doesn't ask again and goes to fetch the alcohol. Sakura starts unwrapping the cloth from Mirio's leg as he watches intently. She has just finished when Hanako returns and hands her the bottle full of clear liquid.
The wound is a deep gash about as long as her forearm that starts gushing blood as soon as she unwraps it. Thankfully, no major artery has been pierced. She locks eyes with Mirio. "This is obviously going to sting a lot, Mirio, but it is necessary." Mirio gives her a firm nod as she pours alcohol onto his wound to disinfect it. He flinches, but stays put otherwise. She does this quickly before gathering her chakra to the tips of her fingers. The energy sings under her skin, flowing sweetly after months of unfocused use. She almost hums with the satisfying feeling, but quickly returns to her task as her fingers glow green.
"Please, stay still, Mirio, this next part is important. It won't hurt," Sakura instructs, unconsciously slipping into her methodical, proficient role as the medic she knows she is. She hadn't realized how much she had missed this systematic, fulfilling practice. She takes one more look at the wound and eases her chakra in to heal the damage beneath the skin. Then she assesses the rest of the wound before she starts pinching the skin together, trailing and threading healing chakra over and beneath the skin as she moves. Tsunade had taught her to think of the process in whatever way it would help in order to heal as precisely and efficiently as possible. For Tsunade, the trick had been thinking of the skin as cloth and her chakra as the needle. Sakura, very fond of bread, had thought the process of sealing an external, clean cut wound, like this one, very much like pinching dough together. Tsunade had snorted when Sakura had divulged her technique, but commented, "well, if it works—and clearly it absolutely does—it works".
The freshly healed skin she leaves behind is still slightly pink, but she knows this will too go away come morning.
Once she's finished, the only evidence left behind is sticky blood on the verge of drying. Sakura sits back on her knees when she deems her work satisfactory and blows out a pleased puff of air. "There!" She exclaims. "Didn't even break a sweat." Pumpkin, having been lured by the commotion, inspects Sakura's handiwork and must deem it appropriate too because she gives Mirio's leg an approving lick.
"Eww, Pumpkin," Sakura chastises. "There's blood all over his leg. Don't lick it." She turns to Hanako to ask for a warm, damp cloth to wash this off with, but when she turns she finds Hanako staring at her with amazed, wide eyes. Mirio's expression mirrors his mother's.
Sakura sighs, a long, drawn-out, sigh. "Mirio, will you help me up, please? I need to sit." Mirio, silent, sits upright and helps her sit next to him and then inspects his leg, prodding the sensitive skin. Hanako stays standing in front of Sakura. Sakura regrets that suspicion has entered her gaze, but forges on nonetheless. "You two have given me so much, namely the health of my unborn child. I think I owe you both an explanation and so I will give you one. I will tell you everything about how I came to be here in the condition you found me in. It's a long story, Hanako, if you would like to sit down?"
Hanako nods, albeit tersely and sits across from Mirio and Sakura. "I will listen, Sakura."
"Thank you," Sakura says, taking a deep shuddering breath before beginning. "This...this will not be easy for me to recount, so please bear with me." Her hands grip the cloth of her yukata covering her knees. She stares at her white knuckles and unclenches her hands before resuming. "My name is Haruno Sakura and I am a Kunoichi from the Land Hidden In the Leaves. Four months before I came to be here, I was imprisoned by a dictator named Danzo who led an undercover coup and killed my mentor and former Hokage, Tsunade…"
Sakura tells them everything, everything that happened during the four months she had been imprisoned under Danzo. She stops once, and only once, when she gets to what happened to Shizune—when they cut her tongue out and she choked on her own blood. Her voice gives out and she stares at the wall opposite her for a solid minute, trying to choke back sobs after months of nightmares about this very memory and the fact that she had never said out loud exactly what she had gone through and witnessed. It was easier to tell Hanako and Mirio, though, strangers to the amazing person Shizune had been, because they did not add to her grief with theirs.
"...and that's the truth of it. I promise," Sakura finishes, feeling as exhausted as if she has just run ten miles. Pumpkin, who had come to rest her head on Sakura's knee twenty minutes ago, looks up at Sakura with big forlorn eyes. She pats her head softly.
"Oh, girl," Hanako says, rubbing her hands through her hair, weary. "I had thought that you were maybe running from an abusive partner when I first set eyes on you or that you were bearing an illegitimate heir of some lord—"
"I know, and I let you think it, Hanako. I thought it was safer that way, please, please forgive me."
Sakura turns when she feels Mirio's hand envelope hers to find his blue gaze on her, full of sympathy. He speaks for the first time since the start of her story. "There's nothing to forgive, Sakura. I don't- I can't even begin to comprehend what you've gone through."
Hanako stands and makes her way over to Sakura. She sits next to her and takes her other hand in her lap. "Now it's my turn, Sakura. There's a story about my past that I feel I should tell you now. It will help you understand why I took you in, because as you might surmise, I do not make it a habit to bring in complete strangers under my roof for months at a time."
Sakura looks at Hanako with wide eyes. "Does hearing my story not immediately want to make you kick me to the curb? I endangered both of your lives just being here!"
"Are you crazy?" Hanako barks. "You're eight months pregnant, girl! I would have to be a monster to make you leave now. Anyway, I know you're a good person."
"How?"
"Because of how Pumpkin reacted to you and how you treat her. This might be backcountry wisdom here, but you can always tell a lot about a person by how an animal reacts to them and vice versa. Pumpkin likes you, so that puts you in my good graces. Plus, you haven't heard my story yet."
"Okay," Sakura sniffles, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, "I'm listening."
And Hanako tells her a story—a memory—from her past.
Sakura understands the woman sitting beside her so much better after, and she doesn't think it is possible, but she admires and loves her even more for it. Because she does love them all, Hanako, Mirio, and Pumpkin, so, so much.
They talk for another long while after Hanako's tale when Hanako places a hand on Sakura's belly and asks, "Does the father know?"
Sakura starts, not expecting the question, but answers truthfully. "No. He doesn't even know I'm alive. I don't even know if he's alive." Throughout her story, Sakura had never mentioned the identity of the father of her child on purpose—the only truth she hadn't divulged. It would probably mean little to Hanako and Mirio if she told them, but this was one secret that she, and only she, knew and she was planning on taking it to her grave.
"Ah, well, I suppose there's nothing for it," Hanako sighs, "would you like to go looking for your comrades once you give birth?"
Sakura blinks at the question. She hadn't thought about it much, having been so hyper-focused on keeping her baby healthy, she hadn't really thought about an after. "I don't know," she answers truthfully.
"Don't dwell on it too much, Sakura. Let your days be carefree until your child is born, okay? Now, I think it's time we got to bed—you need your rest."
Sakura nods, but doubts she will get much sleep that night.
…
Shizune smiles warmly at her, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. She opens her mouth to speak to her, but instead of words, blood pours out.
Sakura screams when Danzo's hand rips into her abdomen and tears life from her.
Or she tries to scream. Her tongue's gone.
Shizune's gone too.
…
A/N: Gracias por leer! I hope you enjoyed the longer chapter.