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Covenant
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Synopsis: Four years into the Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru offers to turn.
He all but requests Sakura by name to be the contact.
It is, quite clearly, a trap—least of all because he's supposed to be dead.
But what is a losing side to do except take the hand that's offered?
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19. The Dependency
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THEY TRAINED the following afternoon. A teleport tag with a location Sakura had never been summoned to before arrived during her medical rounds.
She ported into ruins. As if a hundred bombs had been dropped on a once populous town, exterminating everything except the fractured bones of its infrastructure. Concrete buildings destroyed, their structures scattered into one another. Metal and rock busted and jutted in strange, dangerous angles. Wreckage piled haphazardly all around, miles in every direction, clouding her view with destruction.
It looked like Konoha after Pain's attack. A wave of nausea slipped through her.
Sasuke sat atop a crumbling staircase that led to nothing regarding her with an empty stare. No hint of heat or embarrassment. As if nothing happened between them fewer than ten hours ago—as if nothing had ever happened between them. A detached aura settled about his shoulders. Like an angel above such petty emotions.
The feeling was decidedly not mutual.
She swallowed nervously, her throat dry with an ache to reach for him.
He wore the same clothes he'd visited her in the night before. A brown-tinted river split the rubbled town in two at his back. The sun had begun descending from its peak position to their left, warming her skin against the nip of October.
She searched him for any affirmation of the desolate longing that raked her veins at his closeness, even though he was tens of yards away. A hopeless endeavor. He sat stone-faced as the debris around them. How he ran hot and cold at the turn of a minute sent her insides skittering in anxiety.
Sasuke spared her a regal nod. "Sakura."
"...Sasuke." She raised an eyebrow, blinking away her lonely thoughts. "Do I need to be transformed?"
He stood, brushing his pants off lightly, and stretched his arms out in front of him. "No. I ran a perimeter already. There's no one here."
She released her transformation with a shrug, her body lengthening and filling out the basic black outfit she'd worn intending it to fit a teenager. Training in the fringe would be inefficient, but training without it seemed dangerous.
Although if she genuinely hoped to train, it'd be immediately apparent who she was regardless of her appearance once anyone watched her fight at length. Her taijutsu was clearly Fire Country-style, and few Konoha shinobi were at the level she was with it. None other than Tsunade packed her strength.
The only reason her hooded figure hadn't been flagged by enemies in Lightning Country yet is that she'd only fought at full power once. Yesterday. It hadn't lasted longer than fifteen minutes.
And all of her opponents had died.
Sasuke jumped down to face her on equal footing. Their gazes met and she shivered with the memory of his fingers brushing her hip. He looked away, bored.
"Where are we?" asked Sakura.
"Uzushiogakure."
A second wave of nausea hit her, stronger this time around. She frowned, straightening herself and crossing her arms.
"We shouldn't do this here. This place is sacred."
"Sacred?" he scoffed. "It's abandoned. What attachment do you have to it, anyway?"
Now that he mentioned it, the evidence was everywhere. Naruto's seal was stamped on every smooth surface—dug into the earth under her feet, carved into the busted stones littering the ground. The birthplace of his mother. The graveyard of his people.
"Naruto wouldn't like it, so I don't like it. I'd say the same if it were the Uchiha compound."
"That place can burn for all I care."
"Don't say that." Something in her gut whispered that she should comfort him, but she reminded herself that Sasuke wasn't someone who'd appreciate it. At least he hadn't snapped at her for mentioning his clan. "Let's go back to the Valley of Hell."
It was just as deserted as this twisted cemetery.
He threw a lazy shuriken at her from beneath his robes. She side-stepped it with a scowl, her arms still crossed.
"We train here or we don't train. Anywhere on the mainland is too risky for your fighting style. It'd be easy for a skilled sensor to feel your jutsu in the earth from that valley," he drawled. "Here, the ocean will absorb most of the surrounding vibrations."
"I won't use my full strength," she argued, dodging several more shuriken effortlessly. "And stop that! I'm trying to—"
The air shifted and Sasuke was right in front of her. She barely bent backward in time to avoid Kusanagi slashing the air an inch above her face. The ends of her bangs flitted through the wind towards the ground, sliced. Wide, green eyes followed the blade passing over her as if moving in slow motion.
It would've cut through her torso. It could've genuinely killed her.
She rushed chakra through her foot and pushed against the ground, sending out a shockwave that set Sasuke off balance. Leveraging the brief moment he spent making sense of the new terrain, she backflipped out of his sword's range.
Sakura hopped onto a split pillar, gaining the high ground, and glared down at him. "Such bad manners! Spars are supposed to start with the Seal of Confrontation!"
"You won't get that consideration in a real fight."
"Don't patronize me. It's not a real fight, so let's set some rules and start with the seal."
Kusanagi tipped toward the ground, Sasuke stood at ease. He saddled a haughty hand on his hip and leaned. An arrogant performance easily recognizable; familiarity clenched her heart.
"No rules," he said smoothly. "We'll go till you tap out."
"So sure it'll be me, huh?" She cracked her knuckles and grinned at his flagrant audacity. The man's confidence was both irritating and appealing. "You haven't seen me fight in years."
He smirked up at her. "I wouldn't walk into medical and presume to be a better doctor than you."
Was he complimenting her or insulting her? The seal on her neck pulsed with excitement and she could see how his eyes darkened even in the distance.
"Fine. But one rule, no summons. If I call Katsuyu she'll tell Tsunade and I'll get in trouble, so you can't call Aoda either."
He cocked a brow. "How did you know the name of my summon?"
"I know more about you than you think, Sasuke. If you accept, make the seal." She lifted her pointer and middle finger up in front of her as custom dictated.
After a moment, he returned the formality. Sakura smiled at him, pulling a pair of gloves from the pouch around her thigh and yanking them on.
It'd been a long time since she fought at any length in full force. The only hope she had of potentially beating him was to keep the fight close-range. Sasuke was infinitely more powerful than her at ranged combat, but she only needed to land a single hit to win.
No use in letting him start with the momentum. She body-flickered to his back the next instant, aiming a chakra-laced punch between his shoulders.
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Sakura lost.
She expected it and was still shocked at how skillfully Sasuke fought.
He was faster than anyone she'd ever seen; it felt like she was pinned under him every time she blinked. She'd released her seal for the additional speed, but it was barely enough to keep up. Fighting him required that she tank his hits for openings, and even those openings were only there for a quarter of a second.
It hadn't been entirely one-sided. He was forced to partially summon Susanoo a couple times to avoid her hits. Twice she'd shattered through that defense and landed a punch on him anyway. And one time she'd nearly won, but for him switching places with a statue behind him before her side kick could smash against his ribs.
By the time she called it, it was getting dark and Sasuke was panting with exhaustion. His chakra was heavily depleted and cracked bones littered his body.
In contrast, she was unblemished and barely fatigued. The reality was that she could probably beat him in this training setting.
Her chakra reserves would easily outlast his if the fight went on long enough. She was much more adept at controlling her flow so she wouldn't tire quickly in a one-on-one battle. She was immune to any attack short of dismemberment, and nearly immune to all nature release techniques so long as she was in Hundred Healings. Her speed and defense were excellent; she could likely dodge long enough to drain him completely, and she was fast enough to keep the fight in taijutsu range despite his efforts to maintain distance.
But he wasn't fighting her all out. It was evident whenever he neared a kill shot or pulled back a hit. She pulled her successful hits too, but she'd gotten far fewer opportunities. Most of the time Sasuke didn't even aim to dismember, though he had to know it was the only way to beat her. He hadn't even summoned a full Susanoo nor attempted Amaterasu.
There was no hope short of luck of her besting Sasuke in a real fight. He was a fighter, after all. She was a medic who could fight. Still, if it came to it, he'd have to battle hard to earn her death. Sakura had suspected as much all along, but to prove it to herself felt like absolution.
So naturally, he eventually beat her. As she'd anticipated. She'd spent almost the whole four hours of their battle in Hundred Healings. In the end he stood over her, huffing, sword tip at her neck. She had the energy to continue, but Sasuke was clearly nearing his limit and had played nice for her sake up until now.
The dead Konoha 11 plus Sai surrounded them in a ghostly ring, applauding the show's end. Dread crawled up her spine at their wispy appearance—the first sign of her system's purging of the morning's calming draught.
Good job, Ugly.
"You win," she said over her teammate's whisper, less breathless than Sasuke but no less sweaty.
He nodded and sheathed his sword. Offered her a hand. When she took it, she pushed her Hundred Healings through him. Black markings crisscrossed out from her palm onto his. They snaked under the long sleeves of his shirt, drawing up his neck and face. He pulled her up and hissed with discomfort as her jutsu pushed his body back into the right places.
Oddly, people never seemed prepared for how painful forced cellular regeneration was. It took only a few seconds.
She withdrew from the handshake and released the rhombus. Her reserves hadn't taken too much of a hit, but she'd probably need to refill it with some soldier pills when she returned. Just in case.
"Not bad for a medic, eh?" She smirked over at him, basking in the warm feeling pulsing from the seal across her chest. She corraled her attention to the hum of it and the apparitions all around puffed back into harmless dust clouds.
Sasuke lifted the hem of his shirt up to wipe sweat from his face. The toned muscles of his stomach peeked out; she averted her gaze before her thoughts turned wild.
"Just because you can heal the damage doesn't mean you should let so many attacks land," he said as the shirt fell back into place. The corners of her mouth turned down at the immediate critique. His eye was black again, studying her. "You were obviously capable of dodging them but chose to let me hit you anyway. It's inefficient and dangerous."
"It's not really dangerous. I can heal it, as you said." She rolled her eyes and turned sideways so he wouldn't see the red smattered across her cheeks.
"It'd be best not to force openings in such a manner. You shouldn't forget that you're a medic before a fighter. Just continue on defense until your opponent makes a mistake."
She glared at him from the corner of her eye. "You weren't making any, so I switched methods. Seems it wasn't a terrible idea since you looked considerably worse than I did just a moment ago."
He blinked twice at her snark. Then his face was lifting up and Sasuke Uchiha was grinning. Grinning. He turned away a second before she trained her gaze on the ground.
Her thinking darkened towards the gutter as the memory scorched into her brain. Forgotten shinobi escaping a war for the day on an island of two. The chill of a late fall evening, his chakra laced on every ruined structure, her destruction cratered in the ruins like it belonged. A dust-streaked grin in the middle of a wasteland.
Just how many more of his expressions must she suffer?
"You're welcome for the healing, by the way," mumbled Sakura, suddenly shy and unable to stand the strange silence of nature that pressed upon them.
"Thanks." Her heart stuttered. "I thought you only wanted to train your defensive style, so I wasn't prepared for that self-destructive attack."
"T-then prepare for it. My aim is to win. In fact... I think I could beat you," she lied.
He chuckled, though it barely carried over the rush of water beside them. "Well, I don't doubt you could beat anyone below me."
"Hmm... I'll take that as a compliment, you know." Her eyes strayed to the river. She was filthy. "Should we wash off before leaving?"
"Do what you want."
She shrugged and stepped toward the water. "Then I'll head back once I clean off. Don't wait up."
And she mostly meant it. It was awkward being alone and outside with him like this. Usually, they were only alone inside dingy caves or compact rooms where rules still applied and people were only a door away. Here there was so much freedom to take. Too much for the fragile sapling of whatever was growing between her and Sasuke.
She examined the river. It appeared brown because the riverbed was brown—the water itself was clear as crystal. There was no scent of contamination nor hint of any pollutant.
She tugged her ruined shirt over her head, confident that the too-tight chest bindings would hold well enough when wet. The black shreds of fabric now gripped in her fingers weren't worth saving, though.
As she shoved her sandals off with opposite feet, Sakura tossed the cotton on the ground before wading slowly into the cool water.
Its temperature sent a shudder through her veins. She moved in deeper and squatted, sinking in to her chin with a satisfied breath.
Sasuke was still on the bank, watching her. She kept him in her periphery, dipping her head back to wet her hair.
"...If you don't wanna leave then come in for a bit. I hate that habit you have of quietly staring."
"I wasn't staring," he intoned.
Sakura humphed. "If you're worried about it, I promise I won't touch you." Even though I want to. "I won't even look." Only a little. "So wash yourself a bit."
She took a breath and dunked under the water, quickly scrubbing her face with both hands. Trying to rub off the blush that seemed permanently painted on her cheeks.
"I can tell what you're thinking when you think it too loudly," said Sasuke as soon as her ears broke the surface.
She spun to face him with wide eyes. He was shirtless and examining her. Sakura kept her gaze on him, willing herself not to look south. Forcing her thoughts to zero in on the content of his admission.
Would he talk to her about the seal?
"You've been passing me orders through it that way, right?"
"...Aa."
And quickly, before she lost the nerve, "And everything else was all the seal too?"
He sighed and moved towards her; stepped into the water. "You should know by now that I hate repeating myself."
"Well, it's...just—" Should she stop here? He wasn't snapping at her yet. He seemed willing to let that single transgression slide if she let this go now. But—"You're telling me there isn't even a small portion of yourself that enjoys it?"
Sasuke walked a few feet away from her before lowering himself into the water like she was. His gaze flicked to hers. Then he closed his eyes and dunked under the river's surface. Water rippled down his face and chest when he crested.
The sun was setting, basking them in a blackening orange. The orange she'd lost Tenten in. The orange of Obito's mask, deep in an underground cave that swallowed the last of Sai's screams.
"Is all that matters to you whether I enjoy it or not?"
No. "Yes," she answered too quickly.
It was a lie.
Sasuke leveled a stern look on her, and genin Sakura would've cowered to it. But War Sakura held it, lowering her chin so she peeked at him.
It was just a continuation of the predator and prey game they'd taken up since leaving Madara's base. A give and take; a surrender and a conquering. He was the moon, continually waxing and waning. She was the tide beneath, pulled in and pushed out at his whims. Sometimes she was the moon. Sometimes they were both the tide. Sometimes they were merely a man and a woman.
This time she was lying, and both knew it.
She wanted Sasuke to more than enjoy it. She wanted him to crave her, to seek her out, to need her like he needed air. Like she wanted him.
But she could work with enjoyment.
"If you enjoy it, that's enough," added Sakura, hoping that by doubling down he'd turn away before her brave face splintered. It was easier to fib when he wasn't pinning her with the Rinnegan.
His eyes narrowed. Then he turned on his heel, putting his back to her. A meaningless action to civilians but something significant in the world of shinobi, in the war they were surviving in. His veined hands scrubbed against the skin of his arms and chest as her cheeks warmed under his display of trust.
"I'm still a man, Sakura," he said over his shoulder.
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As the last fall leaves withered from branches and winter's chill firmly overtook the night, Sakura settled into a new routine.
She still drank her tonic every five hours and brewed more before falling asleep. Still kept base medical running and stocked. Still read a letter from Tsunade every four days.
But as Kumo began to feel more familiar, she started corresponding with Naruto and Ino again. The Raikage dispatched her to eliminate various enemy bases in between medical rounds. She gossiped with the Kumo medics during shifts. Laughed around campfires with mission teammates.
Madara's investigation was lasting longer than expected, and the complacency of success seeped back into the army and herself.
Since the enemy was seemingly asleep for now, Sasuke summoned her to Uzushiogakure to train at least three times a week. Their spars were good for her, though she never won. She felt herself getting faster, knew her attacks were more precise. She even listened to his advice and practiced patience by not forcing openings through tanking hits.
It was educational and surprisingly fun to fight Sasuke. He was forthcoming with his critiques on where she could improve without being overly critical, and he was probably the best fighter of their generation. His battle IQ was stunning to witness. Watching him spar was a thing of beauty.
Equally surprising was his willingness to praise her for what she did well. Sasuke admitted that she was better at taijutsu. If I wasn't faster than you, I'd be done for, he'd mumbled when she pressed him on the matter. He casually told her that her immunity to genjutsu was the highest degree he'd ever encountered. Only the Rinnegan affected her, and only for seconds at a time.
Their relationship developed into something that wasn't quite friendship, but also wasn't suffering through the forced distance Sasuke had seemed keen on establishing over the past few months.
He kissed her on their fifth training.
They'd fallen into the ruins of what was once someone's home and he'd restrained her against the busted brick of a wrecked fireplace. It was only two hours into the fight, but Sakura had overseen a complicated surgery before porting to meet him that evening. She was exhausted and tapped out early.
He held a kunai to her neck, a thigh between her legs trapping her. She huffed in gulps of air, blinking as sweat rolled into her eyes. Sasuke hesitated for exactly six seconds before leaning in, his mouth an inch from hers.
"You want me to do this, don't you?" he murmured.
She hadn't hesitated at all. "If you want to do it, yes."
There was still a question on his lips when he pressed them against hers with a force so light it didn't match the smoldering of his eyes.
It hadn't shocked her. She was waiting for it. Ever since their second training she'd been weaponizing the seal's persuasion whenever an opportunity arose.
Sakura told herself she wouldn't do it again after he'd called it a trick. She didn't think it was fair, either—and she really wasn't going to use it.
But that single sentence, I'm still a man, Sakura, had wormed itself into her brain as if it were an apple. I'm still a man, as if it were silly of her to ask if he enjoyed it. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to enjoy being intimate with her.
It could've been her finding meaning in words she wanted to find meaning in again. It could've been. Or maybe not.
Why not use what was at her disposal to find out?
Sakura was tired of feeling unsure and unsettled about this thing brewing between them. One minute she felt confident she could claim him; the next she was sure he couldn't stand her. It was exhausting to deal with her mental acrobats on the matter.
The whole world was at war. One or both of them would likely die in the next year or two. Whatever transpired between Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha was a handful of sand on the beach.
Why was she behaving like an insecure little girl? She'd been in love with him most of her life, and here was an opportunity served on a golden platter to get closer to him. He wasn't pushing her away like she thought he would, nor drawing lines in the dirt, nor strengthening his resolve against the influence of the pact.
Sasuke may not love her, but he was still a man. He could still find something he wanted in this, as she got a small portion of what she wanted from him.
This new development soon became part of the routine, too.
She arrived at the decimated homeland of her dearest friend, sparred with one of the world's most deadly shinobi, then promptly made out with him when the fighting ended.
But that was all that happened—kissing. Not that Sakura was against it. Sasuke was an excellent kisser.
Though after five makeout sessions, she was starting to itch for his hands to dip beneath the waistband of her shorts. She wanted to feel that unbearable heat pooled in her gut, like when he visited her tent and danced his fingers up her shirt. Like in his genjutsu when those fingers slunk down her leg and tugged it around his waist.
She tried to reach her hand between them more than once to grab the stiffness that poked her belly—to show him that this was fun and all, but she needed more.
Each time she tried to move them to the next base, he found ways to stop her. He'd deftly angle himself away or trap her wrists at her side or above her head. Flip her around so she had to angle back to kiss him. Lean out of the kiss entirely until she pouted and promised to stop.
As if he was saying, I may have given in to this, but this is all you'll get. His boundary was that taking it further was out of the question. Sakura couldn't understand it since it was clear only Sasuke's mind was against the instinctual evolution of what came after kissing.
Was it because she got startled when he tried in the tent?
Was it because he knew she'd used the seal again?
...Did he honestly dislike her without the covenant's sway? Had she misread the shade of his sharingan? The longer it went, the more shaken her resolve not to care became. If this man was good at anything besides fighting, it was continuously reducing her back into an insecure little girl.
Six sessions into this new routine Sasuke brought news. The first news from the enemies since the lockdown—in almost three months.
"Madara's moving our forces. We're splitting between the last three coordinates."
"He's relocating the whole army?"
"Aa."
They were on the bank of the river, the water lightly lapping against his ankles. It was too cold to rinse in it anymore, though they could regulate their body heat well enough to withstand the winter air.
Sasuke laid on his back, one of his arms bent under his head, his other hand soft against the bend of her knee. She straddled him, careful not to move against the hardness pressing up on her butt, knowing him well enough in this area now to sense that he'd push her off if she pushed her luck.
He'd never started a conversation with her in this portion of their training sessions. It made Sakura unbelievably self-conscious of their position now that their mouths weren't slanted over one another's.
Her cheeks pinked as she shifted to get off—but his fingers on her knee sunk into her skin. His ring finger slid between the crease of her thigh and calf.
Don't move, the seal hummed. She stilled with a raised brow.
Sasuke studied her with both kekkei genkai, his face otherwise unreadable. She loved how his eye stayed red through this part of the meeting, though she'd never tell him that. Knowing him, he'd never activate his sharingan in her presence again out of spite.
The fingers on her leg loosened as she recentered on him, obeying. Hormones flooded her synapses.
"Are the numbers being split evenly?" she asked.
"Not sure yet."
"He's abandoning all of his other bases to make three entirely new bases...?"
"Mhm." He closed his eyes. His thumb skimmed the top of her knee so imperceptibly she could've imagined it.
"The cells are that important?"
"He can't continue in his body without cultivating them," he replied.
She didn't know what to do with her hands. They'd been flat on his chest when they were kissing, but it felt strange to leave them there as they spoke. She lifted them awkwardly and settled for crossing them. It yielded immediate regret—sitting on him with her arms crossed felt even more awkward.
"What should we do, then? Should the Allies attack one of the coordinates before your army gets into position?"
"Probably…I'll find out which is the easiest target by our next meeting," said Sasuke. "It'll have to be a quick assault."
Sakura nodded. "I'll tell the Raikage to be ready."
"Aa. Good."
He made no move to change their positions. He seemed content to bask in the afternoon chill with her atop him. It was undoubtedly warmer this way, and she knew well enough now that he'd allow her to stay there so long as she kept quiet and didn't push for anything more. So long as she played by his rules.
But that wasn't Sakura.
Instead, she wondered aloud, "We're almost at the end, don't you think?"
Sasuke's chest rose and fell with a small sigh. Like he too knew well enough she wouldn't let him sit here in this undefined, almost-comforting, silent awkwardness but had still hoped beyond hope she would this once.
After a pause he muttered, "Maybe."
"Do you think we'll defeat him?"
His fingers flinching on her knee was his only response.
She soaked in the way his hair fanned out around his head like rays. How his lips were red with her tinted chapstick. The smoothness of his recently-shaven face, unwrinkled and serene under a chilly winter sun. The darkness of his thick lashes on his cheeks. Sakura blinked like snapping a picture and rested her hands against his chest again.
The pressure of her palms alerted him. His eyes slid open, his right one black now, and he cocked an eyebrow as if bracing himself for her to ruin this moment.
She braced herself for it too. She wasn't sure why she couldn't enjoy this little bit he was giving her. But when she thought about it like that, it felt like she was letting herself settle for scraps.
"Are you coming back when things are over, Sasuke?"
"You really don't know when to leave well enough alone," he snapped back, his gaze narrowing into a glare. The hand on her knee vanished and he tried to lift himself from the ground—only to be stopped when she pressed him back down. He couldn't match her in a show of strength. His lips pursed with annoyance. "Let me up, Sakura."
"Answer me," she growled, her mood seeming to worsen in an instant until it matched the lour he shot her.
"Just because I talk to you sometimes and you've manipulated me into some affection doesn't mean anything. Stop prying as if you're entitled to know my life."
Rejection was always his first reflex.
"I don't think I'm entitled..." She pushed into his chest harder, so her next words might somehow be better conveyed. "It's that I love—"
"There it is. Alright, it's time for you to go."
"Why do you always do this? Why—"
"Why do you?" he snarled, his hands wrapping around her wrists and yanking without success.
"—do you let me get close then push me away?"
"You force yourself onto me, Sakura. You took advantage of the covenant when I warned you not to. I told you it'd be in vain—"
"In vain?" She scoffed. "Listen to yourself! Look how much you're talking—"
"Because you won't let it go—why do you keep complaining like you expected something different?"
"I know it's not just the seal, I can see it—"
"From the very beginning I told you it's just the seal! You're creating a fantasy world—"
"Look at us! You're letting me sit on—"
"—in your broken mind—"
"Excuse me?!"
"—thinking it's something more when you knew all along what it was," Sasuke ground out.
They stared at one another, breathing hard. Again, his eyes were red and purple and furious. Sakura felt her throat throb with oncoming tears.
"That was needlessly mean," she whispered.
She watched the muscle in his jaw flex as he shut his eyes and released her wrists. "Okay. The broken part was too far. I won't fault you for what the war's done, but as soon as it's over I'm removing this seal. After that, what I do and where I go is none of your business. The agreement ends."
"I don't want—"
"What you want doesn't matter. I'm telling you that's what it is."
"So why do you keep kissing me?" Answer me. Tell me. I don't understand—this is so confusing, Sasuke. "Why do you insist on laying here with me to talk?"
"Because the seal hurts when I don't give in to what you want, Sakura! I took a pact of devotion to you, for God's sake!" It was the first time she felt like he was really yelling at her. He'd never shown her such frustration. "How else do you want me to spell it out for you? It's the seal, it's always been the seal, and when the seal is gone this," he motioned between them, "will be finished too."
She searched his face earnestly for any sign he didn't mean it, but his expression was controlled as it always was.
His legs were bent now, touching her back. The water softly breaking carried on the wind. There were no birds here—no jumping fish or singing crickets to backdrop the heated exchange.
"I-it feels right, though, doesn't it?" He had to be hiding it. There was no way he didn't feel it. No way he could deny how good they felt together. She wouldn't let him yell that lie into a reality. "Be honest for once in your life. Doesn't it feel good to share my warmth? To be able to talk with someone who wants to listen? I've always been here for you, Sasuke. I was always rooting for you. Don't you feel anything for me underneath the seal?"
"We're in the middle of a war and you want me to play at romance? Don't be ridiculous. It'd feel good to embrace anyone. Haven't you considered that it's just the seal for you too?" He glared at her. "Surely you're smart enough to figure that out by now."
Her hands fisted in his shirt. "...It's not just the seal for me. I always wanted this, even before the seal. I always loved—"
"Love? We didn't speak for years. We tried to kill each other. I wanted to destroy your home and kill everyone you know, and you're still saying you love me?" He sounded exasperated. "Sakura, there's no way that's love."
"Love doesn't need to be justified. I've loved you since we were children."
"Exactly. What you're feeling is a lingering attachment to an impossible future. Your seal gripped onto that fantasy and made you think it's real. It's not real."
It felt all wrong to be sitting on him so intimately while imploring him to accept the authenticity of her feelings.
"I know what's real and what isn't," she whispered.
He scoffed. "Obviously not. This doesn't mean anything. We're allies in an agreement. The rest is just blowing off steam."
"It does mean something."
Instead of continuing the back and forth, Sasuke pressed a finger to the sealing scroll wrapped around his wrist. A tag popped out from it. He reached up, glowering behind the line of his arm, and jabbed it against her forehead with enough force to have Sakura hissing.
"You're damned annoying," he growled.
She felt the tug at her navel and gazed at him wide-eyed. He was porting her out, but her hands were on him. He would get ported too—
His chakra swarmed over her as the teleport jutsu wrapped them both up, covering its extraction for her. As useless an action as the first time he'd done it; she had more chakra left after their earlier spar than he did.
They landed hard inside her tent in Kumo. Sasuke used her brief confusion to jump out from under her. The tag flitted to the ground, useless now.
Panic gripped her chest at the sudden space between them. She knew he might not come to her again for weeks if he left upset over this argument. She reached out and wrapped his ankle in a soft grip.
If he needed her to retreat, she would. Anything to ensure he returned to her as quickly as he had been recently. She could be low tide; she could wane out of existence.
She realized slowly over the past few weeks that his presence was better than any of her calming draughts. His chakra warded away all the gore hidden behind a wrong turn of thought, banished the ghosts that crowded her in the quiet moments.
Sasuke was her only peace. The only place her mind wasn't crumbling apart. The warmth that flooded her by simply meeting his gaze was enough to weld together the splinters of her psyche.
She needed him. He was the only thing that made her feel something good.
Their training had developed a dependency on the seal.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke." Not really. I love you. "I shouldn't have pressed the issue. I won't do it again." I probably will.
The turnabout was too sudden. It was unlike Sakura to back down like this, and he looked at her with a creased brow. She knew he probably heard her contradictory thoughts, but she hoped he'd still accept what she was trying to offer.
After a tense breath, he sighed and knelt so their faces were level. The movement forced her to swallow a gape lest she spook him out of the tent.
She wanted to shout at him, See! You can't tell me it's just the seal! Look at yourself! And she thought it so loudly there was no way he didn't know what she was thinking.
His actions weren't matching the insensitivity of his words at all. He spoke as if he wanted her to hate him, yet the actual things he did...
"I'll send for you in two days for an attack plan, alright? So... Relax." His hand wrapped around her arm and tugged his leg from her grasp. "I'm going for now. It's risky being here in the daylight."
.
.
A note came two days later, as promised. Well, half promised. He wasn't summoning her, but Sasuke sent word:
Attack the last coordinate in Wind immediately.
You have a four day interval.
Madara purged and his body won't be in fighting condition for four days.
Expect near 12,000.
You'll have nine hours to destroy the room before the forces
stationed on Fire's coordinate arrive as backup.
She flash-stepped to the Raikage's tent, who immediately called for an emergency Kage meeting in Yugakure. He wanted her to join him but Sakura wasn't ready to see Tsunade. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
The Raikage already knew all the new information she'd gathered from Sasuke. Her presence wasn't all that necessary beyond that. As agreed when she'd arrived on base, she faithfully debriefed each meeting she was summoned for.
Faithfully as far as what the Allies needed to win the war. She detailed Sasuke's fighting style to the Hokage. Outlined down to the second how frequently he could use the Rinnegan. Listed which jutsu he preferred on his right and left hand. How long he could hold each jutsu. How many times he could use releases before needing to recharge. Estimated the size of his chakra reserves.
Sakura divulged nearly every item of intelligence she'd gathered on Sasuke, to the point it bordered on betrayal. There was an active order within the army that the youngest Uchiha was not to be killed, though, and she doubted even with the additional information he'd be taken down on the battlefield.
But it might save some of the Allies. Within that context, she could justify giving this aspect of him away.
So she shared almost everything. Almost.
But she kept for herself the length of his fingers splayed on her ribcage. The rigid scar of sword on flesh across his spine. How his eyes lingered on the horizon whenever the sunset bled red. How they followed every black crow that passed overhead. The curve of his mouth when she landed a hit, the cinch of his eyes when she dodged his. The taste of his lips, the heat of his sharingan, the pulses of pleasure he sent through the seal.
Sakura could give every part of herself to this war if it asked that of her, but she wouldn't give it him. That was hers to keep.
The width of his excitement between her legs. His palm tight against her neck. The dark whispers she was certain he wasn't even aware of. How his arms mindlessly tugged her back if she tried to leave before he'd decided the session was over.
She still didn't know why Sasuke fought so murderously against the Allies nor why he turned against his patriarch. What caused him to abandon his years-long path of revenge. Didn't know what he planned on doing once Madara was defeated. Couldn't understand why he kissed her when he hated anyone touching him, then scolded her when she thought it might have meaning.
Why did he comfort her after killing Sai? Why did he yell at Kakashi? What was his goal in helping the Allies? Why had he hid his identity yet let himself be found by her?
There were a hundred unasked and unanswered questions between them, too many to know where to begin. Many she was afraid to know the answer to in the first place. So numerous they filled every empty space in her mind the second he wasn't by her side, such that he was always around even when he wasn't near.
Training with Sasuke had bred something novel within her. The seal throbbed when it hadn't felt his chakra in too long. She'd always loved Sasuke, but what bloomed in the past few weeks wasn't what she would define as love.
It was animal-like. Instinctual. A base need only met when his arms caged her in protectively.
She was sure the army would be deployed within hours, so she ran to medical and ordered them to begin making soldier pills. They were still new to her recipe, so their movements were slow and unsure as they ground the rice. Dried and mashed the flowers, smashed the seeds, and bound them together with water and chakra.
Sakura could only hope that Tsunade and Konoha's base medical were well-stocked for the looming battle.
Soon there would be thousands depending on her again. Her duty to save and her burden to bear. So many new corpses to fill the ever-present battlefield. Friends to lose. The weight of responsibility to shoulder, the illusion of choice to face.
She tried to move without thinking. Grind, dry, mash, smash, mix, bind. Move without thinking. Move, don't think. The same thought that had gotten her this far in the war. The only thought that got her through the past year. Don't think, just move. Base medical was home, a place where there was always some new task to complete, always someone there that needed her more than she needed herself. Move, don't think.
And even though she'd trained herself like a monk in this mantra, she was—
Failing.
Her mind was in Uzushiogakure. Kusanagi's hilt caught on a moon ray. Dust clung to the sweat on his arms, his chest, in the drip of it trailing down the stubble of his jaw. Sasuke's broad frame held her against a cracked Uzumaki seal that once adorned a meeting hall.
Orochimaru's strange, young smile invaded the memory. You think the Kage intend to set Sasuke free...?...He's a dead man if the Allies win this war.
The words struck her so harshly that the pestle slipped and she rammed her own finger against the rice-filled mortar. The other medics glanced worriedly in her direction as she bit out a curse and healed the setting bruise.
That hadn't ever happened before.
"Stay focused!" she snapped at the subordinates around her, though she was the distraction. "We need to make as many as we can."
hi to all the new readers and ~thank you~ to everyone
who all left such nice comments on the last chapter!
I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint after the wait:D
thanks to my beta-reader Leech!
have a great week!