- Warden -

Kakashi spends the next hour in the observation lab secretly watching the girl who is suppose to be watching him. He complains loudly when Sakura pulls out a set of syringes and arranges them ominously onto a rolling tray table. She tells him to quit squirming as she draws three vials of blood to run a full panel. But he's notoriously bad at sitting still, so he squirms instead.

He's suppose to be behaving. This was how he was going to make for his shitty behavior before she left. But the memory of her looking at Shikamaru has him more than out of sorts. He misbehaves, but quietly. He tells her that blood is suppose to stay inside the body, disappointed when it doesn't make her laugh. At least it's enough to elicit a small smile from her, so he considers that victory enough for now.

He hopes that if he pretends like everything is normal, things can go back to normal between them. Being around his student has become more and more difficult over the years. There's a small part of him that wants to go back to before things got so complicated. To before Sasuke left. To before team 7 fell apart and he fell apart with it.

But trying to remember what felt 'normal' back then is like trying to remember why clouds were fascinating to him when he was 5. All he remembers about clouds is that they all looked like dogs to him, and all he remembers about Sakura is that she use to be cute.

Cute in the way that Nin-ken puppies were cute. Cute like precocious Genin who think they are ready to be adults are cute. Cute in the way she use to look at him as a kid, like she could only ever see his strengths and never his faults.

But the woman before him isn't cute, and neither are his thoughts towards her. She's focused on her work, sealing the vials of blood and handing them off to a lab tech. But even now she's a special kind of lovely. Even now, he hates himself.

She is single minded in setting up the observation wing. She's preparing to run every test she thinks are important. She's searching for any faults in his health, but he knows she's looking in the wrong place.

Because physically, there is nothing wrong with him. It's his stupid brain that's broken, not his body. It has to be, because there's no other explanation for why he can't stop trailing her with his eyes or wondering about the Nara boy.

There was nothing wrong with his lungs or his heart or his blood. At some point, even his eyes have turned traitors. Maybe it was watching her turn a boulder into confetti with her bare hands, and then use those same hands to pull poison out of the Kazekage's brother. Somewhere down the road, he had started to notice her. He's always noticing things he not suppose to.

As a healer, Sakura could probably cure just about anything. But as he watches her flit about the room, practically a deity of softness and loveliness, he realizes with dread that he might just be sick for good.

Because now he doesn't just see her as cute. She is the second coming of Tsunade, but she also belongs entirely to herself. He doesn't see her as a child because she doesn't see herself as one.

He remembers that day before the Summit, when she came to his apartment disheveled and flushed. She had looked like someone had been kissing her, leaving her red faced and wanting. In that moment, he had wanted to tell her that she was incorrect. She had not been properly kissed at all. He'd wanted to be the one to show her what being kissed really should be like.

"Can you take off your shirt for me?" She asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Jesus christ, forget the mystery ninja out in the woods. His own worst enemy was here in this room.

He realizes that she's being completely professional, and he's being the furthest thing from it. He wants to cover his embarrassment with a joke, but he can't think of one that wouldn't just expose him more. So instead, he plays bored and detached. He examines the ceiling instead of her face while she hooks him up to an EKG machine.

His nerves jump when the cold jelly pads of the lead lines stick to his skin. He tells himself if he can just get through this, things will eventually sort themselves out. He'll get put back on active duty. By the time he comes home, hopefully Sakura and her new beau will be married with a litter of puppies of their own. Then maybe he won't have to play warden to ever errant thought about her lips that detonates inside his stupid head.

Sakura isn't the first woman he's been madly attracted to. She's just the first one he also deeply respects.

But it's because of that respect (and admittedly, some suppressed shame) that he's determined to keep his thoughts to himself. She may not be his student anymore, but he will always be her teacher. That's a line he won't allow himself to cross, no matter how old they get. Even if he hasn't really been her teacher for some time now.

'You would just ruin it anyway.'

The object of his conflicting affections remains thankfully oblivious to his inner torment. After she takes his general stats, Sakura has him run on an incline treadmill while hooked up to the EKG monitor. The monitor beeps in time with his racing heart as the treadmill puts him through his paces.

He hasn't run in over two weeks, and he can feel the tole his house arrest has taken on him. He feels sluggish, and a little stiff, but even at the maximum speed he keeps up his pace with minimal effort. He breathes through his nose and it clears his head. By the time Sakura turns the machine off, he feels like the world is a little less confusing.

He's probably just got too much pent up energy. Maybe he just needs a really good fight to knock these thoughts out of his system for good. He's proud that, even after ten minutes on the treadmill, he hasn't even broken a sweat. Once he gets back to active duty, he would be well rested and ready to take on anything that came at him. He really needs to get out of the village.

So it's especially concerning when Sakura looks over the EKG print out, brows narrowed in tight concern.

"Your troponin blood test came back a little high, and the EKG is detecting a small arrhythmia. I want to check your right ventricle for any residual damage from the heart attack."

At least, he thinks that's what she says. Half the time he wonders if she's just making up words to make him feel like the dumb one in the room.

"How do we do that?" He asks. The worry has coated her voice like an oil slick. He knows she'll be forced to fail him if he misses even one mark on the cardio exam.

"You're not going to like it." She says, looking up from the EKG print out.

"I don't like a lot of things." He says. But then his eyes go wide as she rolls the syringe tray over to an exam cot. She gestures to it and tells him to lay down so she can perform her additional test.

"Oh, hell no." He says, rooted to the spot. "We are done with the needles for today."

She checks her tray for a small blue vial, then starts setting up her equipment. "It's this, or another week of house arrest." She says, knowing she has his balls in a vice.

He takes back all of his earlier thoughts about her. She is not a soft and lovely deity, she is Morino Ibiki in disguise. She is a student of the torturous arts, and Kakashi is merely her next victim.

"I promise you won't even feel it." She says, lifting up the biggest needle on the tray. No, it isn't a needle, its a fucking weapon.

He flirts with the idea of putting Chidori on standby, just incase she tries to stick him with it.

And then, Sakura's lower lip wobbles. Her pupils become pin pricks in the pools of her green eyes. She chokes on the tiniest of breath, and then…

She's laughing.

She's actually fucking laughing at his barely contained terror.

She's laughing so hard that the noise echos around the white room, and it transforms the sterile environment into a place he doesn't loath entirely. She drops the oversized needle back onto the equipment tray, giggling so hard she starts hiccuping.

He realizes his fingertips are sparking with electricity, and he has to shake his whole body out like a dog before he brings the building down around them.

"I'm pretty sure what you just did violates some kind of ethics oath." He glares.

"I-I'm sorry!" She laughs, trying to gather herself.

"I don't think you actually are."

But what ever his feelings about needles, her joke has worked. It's like someone has taken a sponge over the room and cleaned out any lingering stale energy. "I'm so glad my phobia is funny to you."

"Well, they say laughter is the best medicine." She says, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes now.

"I thought I was suppose to be the patient?" Okay, damnit. He's smiling now too. He can't help it, her laugh is infectious.

"It's not my fault you have no sense of humor."

"I'll remember that next time Naruto puts frogs in your bedroll."

She rolls her eyes, and finally, finally, things start to feel normal between them again.

"I do actually have to do this test though." Sakura says, but the needle she holds up this time is the smallest one on the tray.

"Then you're treating me to lunch after this." He concedes, and the last of his tension evaporates when she smiles.

"You got it." She says warmly, "It's about time we actually caught up."

He doesn't feel conflicted about loving her for once, because this was the Sakura he loved the best. The girl he knew so well, and who knew him. The teammate he could put his faith in, and who he would lay down his life for. He loved her in so many different ways. He just wished his heart would pick the one and finally learn to let go of the other.

They spend the next few minutes in comfortable silence, and it's better than touching her with his eyes. This is the normal camaraderie he was nostalgic for. He longs for it now, that period of long ago time when his love for her had been uncomplicated. He misses not having to overthink everything.

"Alright, let's get this over with." He sighs, sitting up onto the observation table. The overhead air conditioning kicks on, turning the exam room into a walk-in refrigerator. His arms prickle with visible goosebumps. He wishes he could put his shirt back on.

"You might feel a little loopy." She warns, swabbing his inner elbow with iodine. "This is a chakra reactive dye that will help me locate any abnormalities in your heart rhythm. It's really cool actually, something Ino and I came up with a few years ago. The dye is derived from her Iris blooms-"

She chatters on about horticultural science that he doesn't really care to follow. Not because he isn't smart enough, but because he's too busy watching her glow.

She seems more relaxed now that she's back from Suna. He wonders if it's because the summit if finally over, or because of what ever happened between her and the Nara boy. Either way, he's happy for her. He doesn't want her to go back to being sleep deprived and overworked. He hopes that what ever she's doing to take care of herself, she continues doing it.

She's still nerding out about medicine when he realizes why she glows. It's the joy in her work that makes her so lovely. She's still bruised and dirty from what ever she was doing before the debrief, but even covered in sand and twigs she'd the kind of lovely that makes his heart want to burst. Not because he wants to keep her all to himself, but because he wants to share her with the world. If he was going to put his heart in anyone's hands, he's happy it's hers, callouses and all.

"Small prick." She warns, injecting the bright blue die into the crook of his elbow.

"I think I'll make you pay for appetizers too." He says.

"Appetizers? I was going to take you for ramen." She says, giving him a small wink. She tosses the vile into a biohazard bag.

"Let me know when your fingers start to tingle. The effects should only last about 5 minutes, but it will slow your heart rate so I can run my test."

"How long does it usually take to work-"

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

His eyelids flutter lightly, like he's been given a mild sedative. Except he isn't tired, and he isn't loopy exactly. It's more like someone found the volume nob on his thoughts and everything's gone… quiet. He's still in complete control of his faculties, there's just suddenly less faculties he feels the need to be in charge of. It's like all the big decisions he's supposed to be making are now someone else's responsibility. He doesn't like responsibility, so this is great. He gets to sit back and relax while the world takes care of itself.

"Wow, drugs are nice…" He says to the air. His own voice sounds distant to him, like his words are coming from another room. He can't remember the last time he's felt this relaxed. It's definitely been a decade or two…

"Go ahead and lay down for me, okay?" She tells him, rolling her eyes at his loopy smile. Is he smiling? He thinks he's smiling…

Her voice isn't an order, but rather a request. She isn't bossy Dr. Haruno right now, telling him what to do or else. She's just Sakura, and he's just Kakashi, and that chair in the corner is just unnaturally yellow…

"You doing okay?" She asks. Her voice is a song he wants to play on repeat. He watches her finish cleaning up her station.

He's torn between wanting to her work and asking one of the abstract questions floating around in his mine. He tries to shape them into something comprehendible, but they slip from his hands like the frogs did that time he stuck them in sakura's bedroll and blamed it on Naruto.

There's so many things he wants to ask her. So many things he wants to ask himself.

Did she have a good trip? Was she safe? It was really important to him that she was safe.

Did she actually like that Nara kid? He'd feed Shikamaru to his dog pack if the boy set one foot out of line.

Did she still like him? Was he still important? He remembers feeling invulnerable in her eyes. Her trust in him was the thing that made him strong. Or had he hurt her trust when he'd laughed at her because he was as bad with words as he was with kids.

Did he still matter to her in the ways he wanted to matter?

Would they be okay if he couldn't love her back? If he could never let himself love her beyond the bonds of team 7…

But more importantly, would they be okay if he did? Could they find a way to be friends again, even if his crush on her never went away…

Each question feels more important than the last. But words seem to be one of the faculties he's delegated off to someone else, because the only thing he manages to say is "There's sand in your hair. I like it."

"Okay, time for you to lay down." Sakura says, her voice two octaves higher than normal. He wonders if her cheeks are always that pink, or if his brain is just high on plant drugs and dopamine. He leans into her hands when she presses him down into the cot, arranging his limbs so she can do a chakra scan of his heart.

He hopes the next 5 minutes will finish soon.

He hopes the next 5 minutes lasts a lifetime.

The bandages on his ribs have long since fallen off. The anti-bac gel thankfully did its job, no infections cropping up while Sakura was away. Even with his half-assed attention to them, he think the skin has healed up nicely. Once he's settled, Sakura places her palms on that same tender skin. One rests on his ribs while the other sits just above his heart.

When she closes her eyes, he allows his gaze to drift. First he looks around the room, then to the weird yellow chair in the corner. He wonders how they keep this room so clean, and why his apartment feels so messy by comparison. Then he remembers he hates hospitals and likes mess, and hopes he never has to come back here again.

In her concentration voice, Sakura tells him to take six deep breaths, exhaling as slow as he can.

In the shelter of her shadow, he allows himself to look up at her. The buzzing touch of her chakra mixing with his has the opposite of a calming sensation. He soaks in her touch like the starving man he is.

Her brows softens as she performs her observation, eyes still closed and gaze turned inward. What ever she's doing, he can tell she's sensing his chakra through her hands alone. She's feeling how his conflicted heart pumps in his twisty, confused chest. Blue dye circulates through his veins and arteries.

This might be one of the last moments he can watch her unobserved before he goes back out into the field. His normal apprehension of being caught watching her is suspiciously absent. The warden of his thoughts is off taking a smoke break.

So he stares at her and drinks her in, trying to figure his Sakura out. Trying to figure out exactly what he's feeling when he looks at her, how someone can make him feel so good and yet so terrible.

"You're not breathing." She warns, eyes still closed.

He counts backwards through his six breaths, allowing his thoughts to drift unsupervised. It's in these transcendiary six breaths that Hatake Kakashi is finally able to be honest with himself.

Six.

The palms of her hands are still a little cold, but against the heat of his skin they make him come alive.

Five.

She's just become so… grown up. It all happened so slowly. He didn't see it coming until it was too late. Until she had already gotten under his skin and then he could not cut her out.

Four…

She looks lighter, like a great weight has been taken from her shoulder. He can't remember the last time he's seen her glow like this, or if he's ever seen her glow at all. It's like the weight of the last few years have disappeared. She's forgotten how to let the world be heavy.

Three…

He recalls the hollows of her eyes beginning to show, the dark circles that had settled in like bruises. But now the darkness has left her, and she is all light. He want her to be happy like this, always.

Two…

He notices that she's been matching her own breaths to his. Her collar bones peek out from her training tank, expanding and contracting with the rise and fall of her chest. He wonders if their breath would still be in sync if he reached up to kiss her right now.

One.

He looks at how close she is, leaning in with her palms on his chest. She is easy to watch and even easier to touch. He can make out a dusting of sand still sticking to her temple. He can see how hard she's been working, because that's who she always is.

Some people only work when someone is watching. But she works hard even when she's alone. He notices her work, even if he doesn't always tell her so. He's proud of her, and wants to tell her so. But he wants to say it mouth to mouth and kiss to kiss, because he knows they are alike in that way. Neither of them is great with words, especially the dangerous ones.

"The dye should have taken effect by now, so why…" She's murmuring under her breath. She's making mental notes more than she's talking to him. "I don't like how your heart rate is still so fast…" When she opens her eyes, he watches her freeze.

He knows he's been caught staring, but she doesn't flinch away from him. She doesn't move an inch, why isn't she moving away? She needs to move away from him now.

The loopiness is beginning to fade from his mind, the sounds of the room coming back into focus. What ever she gave him is finally wearing off. He knows this because he's still looking at her mouth, but the terrible guilt is making itself known again.

The warden of his thoughts has finished his cigarette break. He's here to take Kakashi back to his cell.

Her fingers twitch against his skin like she's reached the threshold of her comfort zone. He's made her uncomfortable, and he feels like shit. Except she doesn't look uncomfortable…She looks confused.

The last wisp of his liberated mind rebells against the idea of reincarceration. It will not be chained in the darkness again.

He can feel her about to pull away from him when he lifts one hand and takes her by the wrist. "Wait…" He says softly, before he can chicken out.

He moves slowly at first, giving her time to pull away. He holds her palm to where it's trembling above his likewise trembling heart. She watches him in detached terror, fascinated when he lifts his other hand to her face. He has no control over his rogue limbs. They are dolls being puppeted from afar.

"Kakashi…"

He doesn't know if he hears her say his name, or if he's just reading her lips. Her voice is a quiet whisper drowned out by the enormous silence of the room. He can feel the echoes of his ragged heartbeat race all the way up through his fingertips.

His fingernails graze across her temple, brushing over the dusting of dirt and back into her hairline. He likes her when she's disheveled like this. He thinks it makes her look better, not worse.

Her eyelashes flutter, as if he's put her under a spell. But he knows the truth, that he's the one under hers. He is the one who doesn't know what he's reaching for yet, or whether he should reach for it at all.

And yet, against all odds, she turns her face into his hand. It's like something out of a dream.

And something out of a nightmare too.

He needs to stop before he does something that can not be undone between them. He hasn't expected things to get this far… He needs to pull his hand away, or he's going to pull her down towards him.

'Why not?' asks the voice of doubt.

'You know why.' The voice replies, cold and unfeeling. The jailor of his affections has once more returned. It lingers in the corner of the observation room, judging him as he should be judged.

The flick of an image flashes before his sharingan. The Nara boy standing beside her, warm and unafraid. He is unburdened by life in a way Kakashi is not. He is someone who could love her better. Someone who hasn't yet experienced enough loss to know he should be afraid of it. A boy who wouldn't have to grapple with guilt every time he wanted to hold her hand.

She deserves a love that wouldn't be served to her with a side of shame.

'But she isn't a child anymore.' He tells himself. 'She's the most capable woman you know.'

Time is a river frozen in place by the winter of his thoughts.

'That doesn't mean you stop doing what's best for her.' The voice replies.

Obligation becomes an impenetrable wall between them, a citadel that can never be breached.

'What would you even do with her love if you had it.'

He doesn't have an answer for that. Reluctantly, in that moment, he makes his choice.

He doesn't pull her down the way he wants to. Instead, he chooses to do what's best for her in the long run. He knows deep down that it's what's best for him too, because neither of them should settle for half a heart.

Because he might adore her, and he might respect her. But he doesn't think there will ever be a time when he can get past the difference in their age. He knows that if he were to kiss her now, there would always be a part of him he could not give her. Maybe he just didn't know how. She was never one to be satisfied with loving by half measures. He doesn't plan on letting her start with him.

His fingers find a bit of twig that has become stuck in her hair during her training. He pulls it out with a steady hand what would have made even a surgeon proud. He holds it out between them to show, hoping she will pretend to not see what is plainly evident in his eyes. Hoping she can forgive his inconstancy just a little longer. He can fix what needs to be fixed within himself, he just needs time.

She backs away from his touch like she's been burned. Her blush is even brighter than her hair. She moves to a mirror on the other end of the room, and fusses with picking out twigs and debris. He sits up, watching her scrub sand from her temple.

His skin burns cold where her hand use to be, so he finds his shirt and pulls it on. "I'm…sorry." He says, not sure which part he's apologizing for: The fact that he almost kissed her or the fact that he didn't.

"That's what I get for being late." She says. Her voice feels as shaky as his own legs do.

When she returns to his side, he is determined. He will give her what she needs, not what she wants. He will step aside and let the Nara boy love her the way that she deserves, and he will get his fucking shit together so this doesn't happen again.

"So, how's my heart? Am I cleared for active duty?" His, feet are already turned towards the door. All she has to do is say the word and he'll be gone before sun can set. He'll be in Grass country before sunrise tomorrow morning if it means getting her out of his head.

"Actually-" She stammers, trying to stitch herself back together. He doesn't try to read what she's thinking, doesn't try to look underneath the underneath. He doesn't want to know if he's made her uncomfortable, or if he's sparked a hope in her heart. Either outcome would be as good as a death blow.

"There's something I need you to do for me before I can let you go."

He looks up from fixing the hem of his shirt. She still looks off kilter, but it's not anywhere near as bad as he feels. Not for the first time, he wonders if he's read her all wrong. If his feelings for her are entirely one sided, and her doting eyes are a vivid hallucination on his part.

"I want you to spar with me before you leave." She says.

This is something he isn't expecting. "You…what?"

But there's a look of determination on her face that he knows all too well. It's the look she learned from Naruto, all those years ago. The one that at says he should accept his fate because she will not be kept from her goal.

"Spar with me, and let me see you move. If you're really ready to be back out in the field, then a fight with me should be a cake walk. And also… I think you might be able to help me with my Jutsu."

He doesn't know what she's playing at, and what this new Jutsu might entail. But he can tell she's trying to act like everything's normal, and he's desperate for normal after everything that almost happened.

"Does your jutsu involve needles?" He asks. The joke falls flat, but she chuckles at it anyway. Maybe she's desperate for some normal too. The normal they had almost had again before his stupid hands ruined it.

"You'll just have to find out." She says. She picks up her clipboard and starts marking it up. She leads the way out of the exam room, and he follows behind at her heels. He hopes to never see this cursed room again.