.
.
Covenant
.
.
Synopsis: In a harmonious world, who takes the blame?
What sins are punished and who decides?
Does vengeance leave with the last of its enemies?
As society rebuilds itself, Sakura learns some things can't be restored.
Not all beginnings start anew—not every ending brings closure.
And sometimes, peace isn't always that peaceful.
.
.
3:5. A Guilt
.
.
A BURNING cut through the terror, blazing across her neck and up into her head.
Calm down! What's wrong? A foreign presence recklessly sliced into her mind. It should've hurt. What's happening?!
She couldn't think straight.
Blood dripped down the walls of her apartment; corpses piled all around. Decapitated, mutilated, twisted up, chopped to pieces. Dead. They were all dead. Bile and intestine flayed across the floor. Cracked, crunched skulls dug into her knees and hands no matter where she crawled.
Breathe, Sakura. You're okay.
Sai, and her parents, and Tsunade, and Tenten—dead. Shino, Lee, Neji, Choji, Kiba, Genma, Iyashi, Samui, Karui, Mabui. The girl she'd screamed at, the crying boy with a missing arm, the child drowning on her table. The legless Iwa man; injured she'd killed so they wouldn't be captured; patients she'd given a blind mercy; the prisoners sacrificed in a sea of enemies. Children. Elders. Brothers, sisters, civilians, Kage, genin.
Family—friends—people she loved. People who had depended on her.
They were all dead and they were everywhere, in every corner. Falling atop each other. Multiplying. Grabbing at her feet—Lee's fingers wrapped around her neck—
You're in your apartment. It's just your apartment. No one's there but you. Breathe.
She couldn't breathe.
If she breathed too deep, she'd breathe them in.
Sakura, listen to me! None of this is real.
So many. So many that she'd abandoned. So many she hadn't saved—that she'd killed. Murdered. It hadn't ever been the battlefield—she was the battlefield. It was all around her and inside her and it would never end until—
You're home now. You're safe.
The forest was on fire. She sunk into mushy, metallic sand. Shinobi cried out for her from every direction, skeleton hands pulled her through the floor. A masked man carved into her naked body as Madara looked down at her, grinning.
Get up, Sakura. Get up and go to Naruto.
Her end table smashed under Naruto's limp body, a hole where his chest should be. Dead eyes and dead limbs—dead.
Snow bit into her bare legs—her hair ripped back—a field drenched red while the bodies grew and grew, weapons slashed and chains rattled, their shrieks shook the earth still; she couldn't do anything.
Go to Naruto!
She'd never done anything. She hadn't saved anyone. All of them were here—all of them were dead. They would never set her free.
SAKURA!
Her scream was swallowed into the scream of the army being swallowed into the ground, the Gods laughed in pitiless mirth—
She couldn't do this anymore.
Shit. I'm getting Kakashi. Okay? Sakura? Answer me!
None of this was right. Everyone was dead. Dead.
The fighting was over but they hadn't won. No one ever would—no one was meant to win from the start. All the ghosts' battles would live on inside her forever, haunting her at every turn, strangling the life they'd lost out of her.
This was her fault. The blood—the bones—the people never coming home—
Kakashi will be there soon. Just hold on. Please, don't—
They were all DEAD.
All but her.
Why did she get to make it out? Why was she the only one who'd ever eat dango again? Why could she walk peaceful streets without looking over her shoulder? Lay in a soft bed? Take warm baths? Grow older?
Not even their bodies made it back to Konoha. Six feet deep in foreign soil, they'd forever rot in those mass tombs. Somewhere far away from the place they died for, in a pit of strangers, without any rites or funeral or grand saga to pass down.
Their life and sacrifice amounted to empty graves. A carved name on a glossy rock in the corner of the city.
Dead. Gone. And yet—
Here they were, trampling over her and falling onto her and there was no washing this blood off, no distance far enough to escape it. The mountain beneath her was limbs and eyes; every person she hadn't healed fast enough, every person she hadn't saved, clawing and cursing and tearing her apart.
There was no fighting it. They deserved this. She'd earned this—to be tortured and killed beneath them.
When they needed her most, she had let them down.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't say sorry.
She couldn't do this anymore.
She was done.
"Shhh… It's okay…" A gentle grip was on her shoulders. It felt all wrong in the middle of this violence. "Relax, now. I've got you. Take a deep breath."
Okay? It was OKAY? What about this was okay?! Everyone was fucking dead!
Shoving at the new phantom, she rejected the cruel pacificity the voice held. Another body flew into the corpse pile before her and passed right through. Slamming into something hidden behind the macabre mass. A loud crack shook the hot, scarlet puddles around her.
"Fuck! Sakura—ugh—going to—bring the place down! It's… It's—me! Calm down!"
She crawled away, trying to escape into the bodies and join them. Something yanked her back by the ankle and wrapped her up in an embrace.
"You're safe, Sakura! It's Kakashi. Your sensei."
Hands ready to push him away again stilled at the name.
…Kakashi? she thought, quiet under the roar of the reaping around them.
"It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you." Body heat seeped into her. "But you have to calm down. I don't want to suppress you."
No. It couldn't be Kakashi. Everyone was dead. Sensei, too.
…Wasn't he?
"Focus on me. Count your breathing." But the ghosts never sounded like this. This tone was full and low—not that hauntingly airy whisper she was used to. Her face was smashed on a firm chest; she couldn't touch the wraiths, no matter how many times she'd tried. "Deep breaths, come on. Five in, five out."
If Kakashi was alive, then she still had someone left to save. It was war. They were at war, in the middle of a battle; she had a responsibility, couldn't let herself fall apart. Sakura was the medical commander—and she had one last loved one who needed her.
She could save him. No one else could die. There was no one left but him.
She couldn't break here. Not now. Not in battle.
Squeezing her swollen eyes shut, she listened to the faint numbers he murmured, attempting to match her inhales and exhales. Kakashi was here. Kakashi was alive. They needed to leave this place or they'd never survive, just the two of them and so many enemies.
"C-calmative," she croaked, throat splintered and throbbing. Had she been screaming? Did she give away their position? "I need—to heal, I need—do you have—"
"No, Sakura. I can't give you any tonics. Try to calm down. You can do it."
Her mind was too frayed to summon Katsuyu. She was shaking too badly to make a run for it. Like this, without a draught, she couldn't protect him at all.
"We—we need to retreat," she said, panic bathing her nerves. Madara's army closed in. "Too many—there's too many. They're coming." Looking up, she gripped his shirt and tugged him towards the trees behind her. "We have to leave, Kakashi. Right now."
He kept his ground, water pooling in his uncovered eye. Sakura pulled harder.
"NOW, Kakashi! Let's go! We have to run!" Why wasn't he moving?! Her heart skipped a beat under the adrenaline before jolting into a race. "GET UP!"
Searching her face, his fingers wrapped around hers. "Okay. We'll go somewhere. Okay?"
What was he waiting for?! "Hurry!"
"Yes, let's hurry." He stood and draped his Hokage cloak over her head, blocking her vision. "I'm going to pick you up, alright?"
Without waiting for an answer, Kakashi swept her up bridal style. A teleport jutsu heaved her navel. And in the next second, chilly night air struck the bare skin of her legs, blooming goosebumps across her body.
When she shifted to pry away the cloak and see where he'd taken them, Kakashi stopped her.
"Keep it on for another minute," he said, taking the first stride down a flight of stairs. "You can take it off when we get there."
Wherever he was headed, sensei was flying. He had to be taking three or four steps at a time with the way she jostled about in his arms.
Terror clawed at her stomach again. Someone was chasing them—she could hear the platoon racing at his heels. Clinging to him in the darkness he'd put her in, Sakura felt herself start to hyperventilate.
They were going to die.
Kakashi was going to die.
Madara would catch them, and he'd kill Kakashi first. Sensei would die here in this strange, distant place, and she was too weak and useless and panicked to save him. His lifeless flesh would sink into soil that never loved him next to a girl he'd raised into a kunoichi that only ever let him down.
A kunai whizzed past them.
Everyone was dead; she couldn't do anything, hadn't ever done anything; Kakashi, Naruto, Sai, Tsunade—
They came to an abrupt halt.
"Hokage."
Sakura didn't recognize the voice. Was this friend or foe? Reinforcements or an enemy flank?
She couldn't breathe.
Kakashi dismissed the person with a curt, "You may go."
"Should we write a report about—"
"Do not make a report." The Hokage's voice was stern. "And don't ever mention any of this. That includes what the prisoner did and who I've brought. As far as you're aware, nothing of incident happened this shift. Understood?"
The stranger hesitated. "...Yes, Hokage."
"Tell your partner at the door the same. Don't even speak about it between yourselves. If I find out you disobeyed me and shared it with someone, you'll both be demoted to chunin immediately."
"Y-yes, Hokage."
"Leave."
Hurried footsteps faded up the staircase. Kakashi set her on familiar, damp stone.
A dungeon.
They were in a dungeon. Steel-tipped leather ropes dragged on the floor beside her. Whimpering, Sakura huddled into herself, collapsing as tight as she could manage.
This was it: The End.
Madara would whip her for answers she couldn't give and saw off parts of Kakashi until nothing was left for her silence. He'd scream, she'd drown in his blood, they were all—
Madara is dead. We're safe. You have to breathe, Sakura. Chakra that wasn't her own steamed from her neck into her channels. Warm and soothing.
Then she heard that voice she ought to know saying, "Why's she bleeding? Take her to the hospital."
"Once she calms down, she can take care of it herself." A loud grating made her flinch back. "Most of it's dried, anyway. Her chakra's already healing it."
"Take this jacket off."
"Yes, yes."
"Faster!"
"I'm going as fast as I can."
The second presence inside her was comforting—but she didn't want to be comforted. And it felt good, but she didn't want to feel good.
How could she? When all those people who'd depended on her would never feel a single thing again. They'd never see another purple sunset, never laugh with their friends in a tent, never train another medic. All for orders they never asked for. A battle none but Madara and Obito wanted.
Dead for nothing.
And once they killed Kakashi, she'd be the last one standing. The only survivor of this unwinnable war. A medical commander who hadn't saved anyone but herself. A joke. A failure.
She should've died with them.
She should've died first.
Everyone else had been so brave, but she'd only ever been lucky. Every hour was another they grew apart. Images she held of the moments of their death became something that happened longer and longer ago. The memories softened like old paintings until their ghosts lacked wrinkles and freckles she could no longer recall. Faded until their eyes weren't the right shade and their smiles didn't tilt the same. With each passing day, she stepped further away from the ones they'd live in forever.
The chasm between them was so wide now the whole world might sink into it. It would swallow her down into that freezing lake—nothing but a frozen cube up to her neck, no one around, no way to move—
"Come here." The cloak was peeled away. Someone lifted her by her armpits from the floor and dragged her into a lap. "Everything will be okay."
Glancing up, she found herself trapped under red and purple. The room hazed into a black, inky abyss. This sudden change in scenary, far removed from the torture chamber, shocked her into some clarity. He loosened his hold and leaned back to look her over.
"...Sasuke?"
"I'm here." He frowned. "What happened?"
It was so silent in this jutsu space. Just the two of them and a small box, encompassed by a shade darker than night. No battles, no blood, no screams of angry dead.
Only before him did the wraiths go quiet.
Reality righted itself with a vengeance. Her mind crunched and crumbled back into place. The war was over. Madara was gone. They were back in Konoha, and everyone was safe.
So why had she spiraled like that? Why was her heart full of senbon?
Sai's letter. She'd read Sai's letter, and then—
"You killed Sai," she whispered. Falling back into him, Sakura wrapped her arms around his torso. Gripping the back of his shirt like a tether as the tears restarted. "You took him from me."
Sasuke gently returned the embrace. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't bring him back!" Her fists tightened. "Your sorry won't bring my shishou back, either!"
"I know," he muttered, smoothing her hair onto her back.
"You should've just killed me!"
"I could never do that."
"But you should have. I wish you had. I can't live with this any longer, Sasuke. Everyone I love is dead and it's my fault!"
"Sakura. None of this is your fault."
"It is! All of it!"
"No, it isn't. If anyone, it's my family's fault." Sighing, his fingers stilled. "And there's still many alive who'd miss you if you were gone. What about Naruto and Ino? And Kakashi—didn't you see him? He's all banged up and looks like he's been crying. What would he do if he'd found you too late? You love them, don't you?"
She did. She did love them. But it was so hard living for other people's sake anymore.
Seasons changed and she didn't. Konoha sauntered towards the first spring of peace while she had yet to thaw out of last year's winter. All the love she held for the living felt like chains that grew heavier each month, dragging her into a future she wasn't ready to accept. Not when the life she'd always dreamed of was somewhere in the past.
Welcoming this unfamiliar world meant letting that fantasy go. One where all the kids she grew up with grayed and had kids of their own.
Where Tsunade ran the hospital and Shino taught at the Academy. Where Ino didn't cry and Shikamaru never ran away. Sai drew pictures for her to hang in her apartment. Kakashi was only her sensei. Tenten married Neji and once her father passed, Hinata assumed his position. Lee lapped the city every morning, Kiba argued with Naruto over who'd be Hokage, Choji opened a barbeque shop in the square.
There—somewhere in the past—these streets didn't reek of a funeral procession.
If that long-gone dream was the price for peace, Sakura didn't want the payment. She didn't deserve it. She'd rather have paid the ultimate price in their stead; rather join that cost than live with what they'd bought.
"What about me?" Sasuke asked quietly, resting his chin on her head.
"You?" Confused by the remark, she answered with the only thing that came to mind. The version of Sasuke that lived in the peace they should've gotten. "...You should have never left Konoha."
"Hm…"
"We could've been happy. If you hadn't left…" Her voice was barely a shudder. "If you'd stayed with us, Sasuke, everything would've been different."
After a moment, she felt him nod.
"That might be true. So," his hand fell to the low of her back and drew her closer, "blame me, instead. I'll take all the fault."
He said it so definitively. As if it were the only obvious conclusion.
But hearing it—she didn't really want to blame him, either. Not when he was the only one who'd stood by her through Madara's bases, took beatings in her place, and held her softly like this when he didn't need to. He knew her better than anyone in the universe; how could she ever blame him?
How could any of this be Sasuke's fault?
"How could any of it be yours?" he countered.
There was nothing left to say. No matter how she explained it, he'd never understand the crushing weight of all the bodies in her conscience. He wouldn't get how Sai's plea that she and Naruto smile and laugh in this ghost town made her wish she were dead.
So she cried. Right there in his chest. Sakura sobbed until his shirt was drenched and her throat felt like it was bleeding.
Uncontrollable thoughts rang out around them in the empty space—snippets of Sai's letter, Tenten's last words. All in her own voice. Sasuke heard guards yell at her that they needed to retreat, and Shino tell a drowning boy he'd done well, and Naruto whisper that he hated the Kage. Tsunade warn her to be careful. Lee say, It's okay, as he stabbed himself through the heart.
She cried until the tears dried up, and the only thing left was a hollow ache and a pained choking in the air.
An eternity passed. The spinning world stalled. Gods watched them with callous stares.
Eventually, she heard his voice from above. "We need to get back to Kakashi. Have you calmed down enough?"
It still hurt in a place so deep inside that Sakura knew it was part of her now. A war won that she would forever lose more to.
…But she did feel calmer.
And a little embarrassed; she was sure she'd never broken down like that in front of anyone. Not as a captive nor during those long months in the hospital, where they'd kept her mildly medicated and half-suppressed.
"Yes." Head tucked, she pushed away from him, wiping her nose. "Sorry… I know this is—"
Sasuke grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. Holding firm when she tried to hide.
"Don't apologize to me, Sakura."
"But—"
"Don't you dare apologize to Kakashi, either."
Slowly, the abyss fell away.
They were back on the floor of his Konoha dungeon. She in his lap. The bars that usually caged in half the room were absent. Carefully scooting away, Sasuke stood before offering her a hand, closing off the seal again.
Its absence felt like a loss of herself. If Kakashi weren't waiting, she might've brought that argument forward for the umpteenth time.
But she let it go and accepted his help. Legs wobbling under her, she rubbed her eyes and searched for sensei.
Instead, she found another Sasuke sitting on the cot in the corner. Breathing jilted, holding his side. The straight-jacket was done halfway up and bunched around his waist.
"What's this?" Sasuke asked, arms crossed.
"A gift to my beloved students," said the second Sasuke. He coughed on the words with a wince.
Medic Sakura grabbed hold of her psyche. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Approaching, she took the small space beside him on the bed.
"Nothing life-threatening, but would you mind?" He withdrew his hand and pointed towards his ribcage. "I think I might've broken something."
Green hands reached for him immediately. Two of his ribs were fractured. One thrust dangerously close to a lung. She healed him with warm chakra, poking at the transformation jutsu as she went.
"Were you out on patrol? You should've gotten checked as soon as you returned." Sakura fixed him with a stony look. "You aren't supposed to be taking missions as Hokage, anyway."
Stretching out the healed area, fake-Sasuke agreed. "You're right. I'll be cautious next time. But rather than me, Sakura… How are you?"
Sights flitting over her, worry creased his brow. Pain she was all-too intimate with simmered underneath.
She could tell he was holding himself back. Could tell that he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up and beg her not to go anywhere, but wouldn't. Afraid that if he moved, she'd disappear.
Guilt rushed through her. What must it have been like for him, finding his student in that state? What would she have done if the situations were reversed? If she walked into the Hokage Tower one afternoon and found Kakashi half-crazed and crying—what would that image do to her?
Unable to hold his gaze, Sakura stared at the sheets. "I'm okay." If it weren't so hushed, it might've sounded truthful. "Thank you for coming. I'm—" Sasuke had said not to, but—"I'm sorry for scaring you."
"Never mind that," Sasuke cut in. "Why are you in a transformation?"
Kakashi ignored him. "I'll always come when you need me, Sakura. Don't thank me for that. And you can always come to me if you ever feel like you did tonight. Alright? I don't care what time it is. You're more important to me than anything else that's going on." When she didn't respond, he reiterated, "You find me if you're alone and it happens. Okay?"
She still couldn't look at him. "Yes, sensei…"
"Good. Never forget that. Now… As for this," Kakashi waved over his appearance, "I've decided I'll stay here in your place, Sasuke. So long as you're back by morning, no one should notice."
"For what purpose?" challenged Sasuke.
Pausing, Kakashi peered her way again. "If you transform into me, you can leave the dungeon for a night. Have a little taste of freedom. What do you think?"
"I think it's idiotic. Are you trying to get yourself charged, too?" he quipped.
"No one will notice. With the low level of suppression on this jacket, I can hold it just fine. It's good, right, Sakura?"
It was perfect, really. The guards would definitely be fooled—but the more Sakura inspected him, the less Sasuke she saw. Though she doubted anyone else would see the difference, no matter how long they stared.
Who else knew Sasuke like she did?
"Yeah, it's good…"
"Then it's settled." Kakashi smiled. It didn't look anything like Sasuke's. "Please escort Sakura back home for me, Sasuke. She's had a tough day, so I'd appreciate your keeping her company for the evening."
She heard him scoff behind her. "Enough with the meddling. They'll execute me on the spot if someone finds out."
The word wrecked her brain like a Bijuu Bomb. Trying to stay in the room, she took a deep breath and released it gradually.
"Oh? And here I thought you wanted to be executed. Shouldn't you jump at this opportunity?"
Before Sasuke could bite the bait, Sakura begged, "Stop it!" louder than she'd meant to.
Both men muzzled, she used the lull to quell her nerves. A shake was rumbling in her core. Her senses balanced on a cliff. A battlefield bubbled under their feet, its crimson creek moistening the gray floor.
She was well enough in the moment to know she wasn't well at all. That letter had fractured the fragile calm she'd built in her head—shaken down all the indexed shelves and cracked open the boxes that kept the misery locked away. A single syllable more of this apathetic exchange would certainly shatter it all again.
Konoha would not kill Sasuke. Never. He could absolutely not die.
No one else could die. If she lost another person, it would be the end of her.
Swiftly taking the hint, Kakashi released the transformation. "Well, that's fine, too, I suppose. It was meant as a favor but I see it's unwelcome. And since you currently aren't a Konoha shinobi, I can't force you. So if you're that opposed, Sasuke… I'll watch over her for the night."
"Like hell." Sasuke was instantly beside her, fingers locked on her arm, coaxing her up from the cot.
Although hidden, Sakura knew her sensei was grinning. "Don't you trust me?" he asked.
"Not as far as I can throw you."
"A skilled shinobi like you could surely throw me far enough."
"Tch. You get only more insufferable with age. I should've killed you when I had the chance."
"Stop it," she repeated, glare whipping towards Sasuke. But to her surprise, it was the Hokage standing at her side, vision narrowed at the real one.
"Come now, Sasuke. Stop overreacting. You're upsetting her for no reason." Kakashi's white hair turned black. "Just how quickly did I do as you asked? I came as soon as the guards called and went to her the second you told me to. In these matters, there's no basis for your distrust. She's my favorite student. Of course I'll keep her safe if you won't, and I'm not comfortable leaving her alone tonight. She needs support."
Any other time, she would've been bothered by the way they spoke around her as if she weren't standing right there. But despite Kakashi's uncharacteristic tone—she could hear it in his words.
The Hokage was trying to give her something. Was trying to do something for her.
In this tiny, inconsequential blink of history: Kakashi was once more the sensei she knew.
Sasuke strode to Kakashi's side and motioned for him to rotate. "Fine. What time do you need to be in your office?"
"Nine at the latest."
"I'll be back here before that." As he latched the straight-jacket up Kakashi's back, Sasuke mumbled something else that Sakura couldn't hear.
The Hokage chuckled. "Yes, I understand." He nodded at the black cloth on the floor. "Don't forget the eyes."
Once fake-Sasuke was properly bound, both students examined the transformation. Not a hair was out of place—though the grin he wore was wholly un-Uchiha-like.
"Play nice, Sasuke," he warned. "She's done a lot for you."
"I know that. You don't need to tell me," he spat back.
"Are you planning to work tomorrow, Sakura?"
What a strange question, she thought.
Why wouldn't she go to the hospital? If everyone gave up their responsibilities anytime it hurt too much, nothing would ever get done. Time continued whether she stayed in place or went with it—whether she was present or a spirit in her own body. The tasks would merely pile up and make the next day harder if she didn't.
"Yes. There's no reason I shouldn't."
"No one would fault you for taking a break. I've been telling you to do so for months."
At least at the hospital, she could lose herself in others. There was always another patient to heal and unending duties to fulfill. Taking a break meant spending time alone, with nothing to do but think.
That seemed like the worst choice of all.
"I'm fine," she concluded. "I'm sorry for worrying you, sensei, but the hospital needs me." Or maybe she needed the hospital. Either way, it was better than holing away at home with the ghosts.
Sasuke nudged her towards the stairs. "Stop apologizing, already. Let's go. I'll be back in the morning, Kakashi."
"You come, too, Sakura. I have something to discuss with you."
Feet stilling, Sasuke pivoted to him. "Discuss it now."
"This is between me and her. You needn't worry." Kakashi's mouth turned up. "We'll talk after she gets some rest."
It was awkward watching the Hokage's body move like Sasuke. She could see him ready to start another argument; his shoulders stiffened and brow furrowed at the sitting clone. She'd assuredly lose the gift Kakashi was bestowing if they stayed down here long enough for Sasuke to change his mind.
She butted in before the words flew. "Thank you, Hokage. Admittedly, I am pretty tired. C'mon, Sasuke." Grabbing his elbow, she hauled him away from the cell.
"Wait." Sasuke made an Ox sign, and the metal bars slid up from the ground, grating against stone. Caging Kakashi in.
"See you both later," he called, evidently unaffected by the confinement.
With that, the two of them exited the dungeons. The ANBU guards were tight-lipped as they passed, sights drilling holes into their sandals. Kakashi's threat of demotion had obviously rattled them—they didn't bother with the chakra scan that usually accompanied a departure.
Not that it mattered. Sasuke's transformation was even better than the Hokage's.
So long as he kept his mouth shut.
As he hit the final step, Sasuke took an almost imperceptible breath. His face tilted back to gaze at the sky.
Sakura understood this sentiment better than anyone. Finally tasting freedom after being trapped underground for days on end was an indescribable experience. Masked under Kakashi's signature, his chakra wrapped around them wild and excited, before he reigned it back in.
"Where's your apartment?" he asked, abruptly void of the emotion he'd just radiated. Eyes sliding from the moon to her.
"...This way."
The stretch between the Hokage Tower and her residence wasn't far. They could've ported or body-flickered. But the streets were quiet, the crickets were chirping, and Sakura wanted to walk beside him under the stars. She wasn't feeling quite like herself after that lapse in sanity; his presence was like a prayer calling her back to earth.
He fell into step, hands sliding down his pockets.
How long ago had they done this? Ten years? Eleven? Sakura wasn't certain the last time Sasuke strolled the streets of their hometown, but she was certain they hadn't together in a lifetime.
It felt…good. Right—next to him like this.
Some different version of Sakura might have pointed it out. War Sakura, desperate for him to acknowledge any sort of care, would've spun to him and asked, You feel this too, don't you? Still a believer in fate, Genin Sakura would've proclaimed, It's like we're the only two people in the whole world!
But whoever Sakura was now held her tongue.
Sasuke wasn't a man of affirmation. Regardless of what she said, he was unlikely to answer how she wanted. Especially with the trial weighing down upon them and his concession to watch over her—he'd probably use her untimely divulgence to put distance between them.
And she didn't want that. Couldn't handle it, tonight. His accompanying her home was enough.
They reached her apartment in comfortable silence, a small one-bedroom on the top floor of a two-story building. As they neared, she saw a jagged crack on the outside wall of her living room next to the front door that hadn't been there before. Running all the way up to the roof.
Anxiety settled in her gut. Frowning, she picked up speed, leaving Sasuke behind.
The front door was left unlocked from Kakashi's intrusion; Sakura pushed it open, preparing herself for the worst.
Her heart still dropped at the scene. Half her apartment was utter destruction.
The island was nothing but rubble. Blood stained its scattered pieces. A trail of it smeared over her kitchen floor. The other counters were cracked and splintered with plain signs of being punched. Hunks of wood and stone were all over her living room as if they'd been tossed there. The coffee table was smashed. A body-sized hole dented the wall, its impact slithering to the ceiling.
Sneaking in after her, Sasuke whistled lowly. "Looks like a bomb went off in here."
Sakura could only stare, mouth agape, at the devastation. Although it had to be her, she couldn't remember doing any of it. None of her hallucinations had ever amounted to—to this. Her neighbors were probably terrified; she was lucky her strength hadn't caved the whole building in.
What had set her off so badly?
A memory tickled the back of her mind. "The letter!" she gasped, springing forward.
Sai's letter. She'd smoothed it onto the now-wrecked counter to read it.
Falling to her knees, she dug through the remains hunting for it. He'd written it for her—it was the last thing Sai ever wrote. His final words to her. If her falling apart had destroyed it—
Sasuke knelt next to her, grabbing both her wrists. Stopping her search.
"Calm down. I'll look for it. You go shower."
"No! I have to find it!" The mania was crawling over her again. "I have to—"
"Sakura. I said I'll find it. I'm sure it's here." She peered at him; he'd released the transformation and appeared as stoic as ever. A complete juxtaposition from the feral sea she was drowning in. "Go wash up. I'll take care of it."
Could she trust him with this? It was Sai's letter. He'd taken Sai from her. What if he took this letter from her, too?
As if reading her thoughts, he sighed. "Don't worry. I'll be careful." Sasuke pulled her up and prodded her down her hallway. "You've got blood all over you. Shower. By the time you're done, I'll have it."
He backed up the order with some chakra. Surprised at the seal's original use after so long without it, Sakura mindlessly listened. Hormones swamped her with every inch she drew closer to the bathroom, swiftly taming the waters within.
What if he couldn't find it, though? She'd trashed her whole kitchen. What if she ruined Sai's letter in the process? Butchered the last real thing remaining of him?
As Sasuke started sifting through the rubble in the background, she confronted herself in the mirror. She looked horrid. A corpse come back to life. Dried blood caked her face, her hands, her knees. Clear trails of clean cheeks peeked out where the tears had rivered down. Her hair was bunched up at the top as if she'd been pulling at it.
But the cuts and bruises she clearly gave herself in the craze were already healed.
She wished they weren't. She wished the evidence of all the pain she felt didn't heal itself away a moment after it sliced into her. Wished there was more to show for her sins than some flaked reddish-brown and tangled pink.
As soon as she bathed, no one would know.
Somehow, that felt just as bad as everyone thinking she'd gone insane.
But right now, the letter was the most important thing. Showering quickly, she dressed without drying and ran back to the kitchen, praying it was safe. Sasuke was by her door, inspecting the wall. It was slightly misshapen and discolored where the fissure had been, but no longer dented and cracked.
"You fixed it?" she asked, brow raised. "How?"
"I blended some Earth and Fire Style." He held out a wrinkled sheet of paper. "Here's this."
With a shaky hand, Sakura snatched it. While torn in some places and stained with blood in others, its contents were still legible.
She closed her eyes. Thank God. She might've truly lost her mind if it were gone.
"Thank you…" Folding it with care, Sakura placed the letter in the drawer of a lone side table that avoided her wrath. Away from Sasuke, who she hoped hadn't read it.
It wasn't meant for him. It wasn't meant for anyone else—except, maybe, Naruto.
"Mhm." His gaze swept over the crushed island. "Don't think I can fix that, though."
It sounded like he thought he was here to do a job.
"That's fine. You mending the wall was nice enough. I didn't expect you to do anything." They both awkwardly stared at the kitchen before she cleared her throat. "I have some of Naruto's clothes here if you want to wash up next."
"...Are they orange?"
A laugh croaked out of her as if she hadn't made the sound in years. "They're gray, I think. Or white."
He faintly smirked. "Then, if you don't mind."
What followed felt more normal than she'd anticipated. She showed him to the bathroom and pointed to the extra towels. Pulled out a new toothbrush. Rummaged around in her closet for the clothes and left them folded by the sink. Arms crossed, Sasuke leaned by the shower, watching her scramble about without a word.
"Do you need anything else?" she asked when it was all ready.
It'd been ages since she'd hosted someone. When Naruto visited, he took over the place on his own accord, leaving his things everywhere and helping himself to whatever he wanted.
"No, this is fine."
"Okay. I'll be in—" the bedroom, she almost said. Her cheeks were suddenly warm for no reason. It was the middle of the night. Debris littered her living room. The only place for her to go was the bedroom—but it sounded indecent, saying so aloud. "I mean, I'll wait for you to finish."
"Sure. Thanks."
She closed the door behind her and released the breath she'd been holding. Even when they were teammates, Sasuke had never come to her house before. And here they were, all alone for a whole night.
If she were Captive Sakura, she'd undoubtedly desire something. Back then, the best sort of comfort Sasuke could give her was himself.
Strangely, however, she wasn't hoping for that tonight.
She was tired. Not a tired that a single night's sleep could fix, either. And sex would feel good—with him, it always did. But she didn't want to feel good. It wouldn't make things better.
Sex wouldn't erase the wreckage in her kitchen or the battered letter in her drawer. It wouldn't change the fact she could easily trace both those things back to him, if she were willing.
All she really wanted was to feel like she wasn't alone. To curl up into his warmth that chased away the nightmares and rest. Next to him, the memories didn't hurt so bad. Wraiths didn't materialize in corners. Cries didn't echo on the walls—even though some of those cries came by his sword.
With Sasuke by her side, despite everything…it felt a little less like it'd all been for nothing.
But he was probably expecting something. Lying down in bed, Sakura gazed at the ceiling, listening to the water run in the room over. If he tried, she figured it was probably best to give in. So he wouldn't get angry and leave her by herself. She wasn't sure if she could live with herself, right now.
Or worse—he might not expect anything. He might not even want to stay in the same room. How would she convince him if that were the case, without looking foolish?
Sakura ruminated on that until the creaking floor jumped her out of it. Sasuke stood in her doorway in Naruto's clothes, a towel draped over his shoulders. Mismatched eyes glided over the small room before landing on her, damp atop the covers. In an attempt to seem normal, she gazed back stock-still and stone-faced.
A question hung in the air. She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Hushed as it was in here, he had to hear the gulp drag down her throat.
What if he refused to come in? What if he'd rather sleep on a dusty, dirty sofa than with her?
Before she could say anything, he flipped the lights off and pulled the door shut. Her mouth went even drier.
"May I?" he asked quietly, two steps from the bed.
"Y-yes," she answered, shuffling sideways to give him space. She'd never been happier to own a bed too big for one person.
"Where should I put the towel?"
"Oh, um. Just—on the doorknob is fine."
After hanging it up, he paused. "You know, Sakura..." His head turned back to her. Though the dark hid his expression, his chakra pulsed. A tell-tale sign that he'd used his dojutsu. "...Never mind. Let's go to sleep."
She wanted to know what he was going to say. But it was so silent, and he was already gently sliding in beside her, and she was worried she'd frighten him away if she pressed. Together, they lifted the sheets and tucked underneath them.
And not a beat later, he reached out and pulled her to him, arms wrapping around her just like she remembered. Safe, comforting.
Real.
Startled that she hadn't even needed to ask, she froze. Under her ear, his heartbeat was steady and sure—contrasting the restless thumping overtaking her chest.
"I've told you before, but I really can't handle this sort of thing," he murmured into her hair. "Don't scare me like that again. Next time, listen to Kakashi. Go to him when it happens."
Sakura wanted to hit herself. Surely she was dreaming? Surely Sasuke Uchiha wasn't admitting he was scared of something? Scared because of her?
She hadn't pressed before, but how couldn't she after that?
Steeling herself, she asked, "What if I'd rather go to you?"
"He'll always be here. I may not be."
The aloof response made her regret saying anything. A callous reminder that Sasuke didn't care if he died. He didn't care about the trial or the people he'd leave behind if it went poorly.
But he was the one who brought it up, so she didn't feel guilty about being honest this time.
"Sasuke—that's something I wouldn't be able to handle."
"Aa. I know."
"If you know, then—"
"I'm here now, so don't think about that. Just try to get some sleep."
Reading between the words, she heard his subtle plea that she drop the subject. Even though she hadn't started it. Even though he spoke first, when she'd have been perfectly fine lying mute in his arms from the beginning.
But it wasn't like he was asking for much. Him being here at all was enough for her.
"Don't leave without waking me," she replied, giving in to his small request.
His body relaxed. "I won't."
"I love you."
As soon as it slipped out, Sakura wished she could take it back. Her muscles locked in fight-or-flight. She hadn't meant to say it—hadn't even been thinking it until half a second before it passed through her lips.
It wasn't the first time she'd said it. It wasn't even the tenth. She'd confessed to him countless times over the years, with no success. And because of that ample experience, she knew she'd just handed him his favorite reason to leave.
"I know that, too," he said.
His sentence sunk in belatedly. The words' novelty or the fact that he wasn't pulling away—whatever it was, the urge to fight swiftly overcame her other instincts.
A moment later, he hissed, "Ouch—don't pinch me!"
"That's not how you reply to that kind of thing, Sasuke," she admonished half-heartedly.
There was far too much joy in her tone than that lackluster answer called for. But she didn't care. If anyone were to ask her right then and there, that lackluster answer might've been the best thing she'd heard her entire life.
"Yeah, I kn—ow! Stop that!" He pulled her closer, trapping her hands between them.
It wasn't funny.
She'd professed her love and he'd deflected. Any other woman would've felt slighted. Would've kicked him out of her bed and ordered him onto the couch. But Sakura wasn't any other woman, and Sasuke wasn't any other man.
It wasn't funny—yet she still found herself giggling. Because she was certain that a man like Sasuke would've shoved another woman away if she'd whispered such a thing to him in the cover of night. Before the sentence even finished, he'd be on his feet, snapping at her.
In fact, he'd never be in a position to get kicked out. Sasuke would never be in another woman's bed like this in the first place.
Of this, Sakura was thoroughly confident.
And if he felt absolutely nothing about a confession from her, he wouldn't have hugged her tighter. Sasuke, of anyone, should understand what that might make her think. He'd spent far too much time in her head not to.
"...Stop laughing."
She obeyed, but couldn't lose the goofy smile. Nor would she give him the opportunity to rectify his actions by saying anything more about it, either. Maybe later—when her mind wasn't so muddled and Sasuke wasn't on guard.
Maybe then she would ask how he felt about her.
"Now go to sleep," he commanded, like the closing of a book.
"Yes, sir."
Her playful tone made him bristle. "Sakura."
It was a warning: She'd drawn too close to the line. To maintain the peace between them, it was time to fall back.
Leaning in to him, she let his security wash over her, a tide pulled by the moon. She was tired, anyway…and perhaps, next to him, it was a tired that could be fixed with a single night's sleep.
"Alright. Let's sleep," she agreed.
"Aa."
"Goodnight…" And before she could change her mind—"Thank you for being here, Sasuke."
.
.
True to his word, he shook her awake to a bright sun beaming through the bedroom drapes. Her brain throbbed with dehydration as she blinked into consciousness. It took her a minute to remember why Kakashi was in her room and not Sasuke.
They hadn't done anything but sleep. It was exactly what she'd wanted—but she still found herself a little disappointed, now that it was over.
"It's nearly nine. We should get back before we're caught."
As expected, their pillow talk was left unaddressed. After so many years of shouldering his outright and not-quite rejection, Sakura barely gave it any thought.
The significant part was that he'd stayed. That he was still here in the morning.
Half-asleep, she dressed for the hospital and splashed cold water on her face. How fine her reflection looked was…almost off-putting. Anyone who focused might see the swelling of her eyes; otherwise, however, she was no worse for wear.
She supposed that was a good thing—keeping up appearances, and all. This way, no one would pry. Everyone would still think her the capable, strong medic they needed her to be.
No one would see the defeated, scattered woman underneath.
"Ready?" Sasuke called from the front.
When she exited the bathroom, she groaned at the state of her apartment. The daylight made it so much worse. Bleakly, Sakura took in all the damage she'd have to clean up and get repaired. That she'd have to pay for.
Sasuke watched her kick a piece of shattered cabinet, his mask of indifference firmly back in place.
Unlike the night before, they ported to Hokage Tower. The fake-Hokage kept his head down as they entered the dungeons and passed the guards. Fake-Sasuke was already smiling when they entered his cell, as if this hours-long dungeon stay was nothing more than a pleasant vacation.
"Welcome back, students. Did you have a good night?"
"I'm not your student," Sasuke grumbled, releasing his transformation and flickering behind the bars.
"Once my student, always my student." Standing, Kakashi let him take off the straight-jacket. "Sakura? How are you feeling this morning?"
She had the suspicion that Kakashi was now going to fret over her like Temari did after that Earth battle. Although she'd hate it, she couldn't blame him. Had she found him, or Ino, or Naruto in the state he found her, she would do the exact same thing.
"Much better. Thank you again, sensei. For coming."
"Like I said, please don't thank me for that. I only wish I'd come sooner. But you should thank Sasuke—he's the one who riled his chakra and panicked the guards into summoning me."
She'd already worked out he'd been behind it somehow, but sensei's assertion still fluttered like a spring breeze in her chest.
…Thank you, Sasuke. It bounced back, irritating her enough that she kept it to herself.
As the men switched into their rightful places, griping at one another under their breaths, Sakura took mental inventory of what needed completing at the hospital today. As always, it was the easiest means to steady her mind.
First, she should check in with the shinobi she'd operated on yesterday. Then she'd monitor the progress of the Children's Mental Healthcare Clinic that a contractor was building onto the west wing. The trainees were scheduled for a progress check this week, so she might as well—
"Shall we head out?" asked Kakashi, himself once more.
"Sure. I'll be back to visit after work, Sasuke."
He was back on the bed, suppressed and detached. "Aa." To anyone's ears, it would've sounded like he didn't care who came or went.
Kakashi caught her sights and rolled his eyes. "Hang in there, Sasuke."
"Whatever."
Hesitating as her sensei departed, Sakura contemplated saying something further. But Sasuke laid with his back to her and she decided against it.
Kakashi waited at the entrance. His vision roved over her when she stepped onto the street, as if searching for defects. She held in a scowl—she couldn't be too upset by his concern, though it would grow annoying if it lasted long.
She much preferred Sasuke's way of glossing past these things. That he didn't mention anything or act unusual this morning was a small blessing, in hindsight. Or maybe Sasuke was just better at hiding his scrutiny than the Hokage.
Either way—she'd rather Kakashi not study her like one of Deidara's explosive clays.
Eager to distract him, she prompted, "What did you want to talk about?"
"Ah, that. Well… Last night was…" He seemed to consider his words. "Enlightening, for lack of a better term. You hold up so well that I don't think I fully understood the…impact all this has had on you, Sakura."
"I'm really so—"
"No, I'm not telling you this for another apology. You haven't done anything to be sorry for. I'm the one who owes you an apology, yet again… You've been under my supervision for over ten years. It was my duty as a sensei to see these things. I should've done better—I should do better."
Of course he hadn't seen it. She hid it as best she could, every second of every day—precisely because she never wanted anyone she cared about to look at her like Kakashi was now, in the middle of this blinding, busy street.
Like he pitied her.
Like she was broken.
"It's made me realize that you were right," he continued.
"...About what?"
The Hokage sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "About how I've handled Sasuke's charges."
.
HAPPY NEW YEAR WOOOO
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading