Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Chapter Ten: Cultivating Comradery

Just as Sakura predicted, the beginning of recovery for Itachi was going to be rough if his first full day was any indication of how he'd fare. Whatever strength he had regained since Sakura managed the symptoms of his illness had abandoned him overnight. Nausea, fatigue and weakness were the main culprits. Even with her ninjutsu and antiemetic medications, Itachi was constantly sick to his stomach. It troubled her to watch him succumb to the side effects of his treatment, and she couldn't believe how, well, shitty he looked for lack of a better word. As the night progressed he threw up whatever he ate, and by the afternoon his appetite was gone. Just the mention of food had him retching.

The following evening she sat in the room with him, a look of pity in her eyes as she gave him another dose of medication to help with his nausea. His pale skin looked ghostly and his forehead shone with a small sheen of sweat. Sakura ignored the smell of bile that lingered in the air. Itachi's eyes cracked open as he lay there, and he glanced at her.

"I don't look that bad, do I?" he asked with a weak smile. Sakura, realizing that she had been caught staring, looked away and down at her hands as she attached a flush to his IV line.

"Sorry," she muttered, unsure of what to tell him. A small chuff of laughter escaped his lips, making her meet his eyes again as she slowly flushed the rest of his medication through the tubing.

"Don't be. It's a small price to pay if I'll be rid of this disease." Sakura pursed her lips beneath her mask as she watched him close his eyes and settle a bit more into the bed as the effects of the medication took hold. She added a different antiemetic medication into the mix, and prayed it would ease his stomach longer than the other had, coupled with the relief she tried to offer with her ninjutsu. "Sakura-san?" She hummed in acknowledgement, looking up to see his eyes still shut. "Will you tell me another story?" A smile spread on her lips though he could not see. He sounded like a sick child asking his mother to read him a bedtime tale. She felt so sorry for him that she couldn't help but oblige. Anything to take his mind off of how lousy he felt, she knew.

"Another story, huh?" she repeated as she undid the flush and tossed it in the nearby trash can. Settling back into her chair, she made another hum as she pondered what to tell him, knowing lighthearted stories that involved Sasuke were his favorite. She'd been trying to not think about Itachi and Sasuke in the same breath, but she made an exception. That smile turned bittersweet as she started to tell him about some of their first missions together as Team 7, those inane D-rank ones that slowly stacked up Naruto's building frustrations which lead to their mission to the Land of Waves. There were many to tell, and she found herself jumping from one to the next, unable to stop herself as she walked down memory lane.

"And the look The Sandaime gave Naruto when he flat out refused the mission as if it were his choice," Sakura laughed around the tears in her eyes, thinking back to the battle of wills that always waged between those two. "I don't know who was more stubborn: Naruto or The Third." Itachi smiled gently at her tales, clearly delighting in the humor. Though he didn't know Naruto well, he was familiar with his headstrong nature, having confronted him about his obsession with Sasuke not long before their battle. "Oh, and Sasuke-kun let him have it during that mission," Sakura went on to say vivaciously, a tear rolling down from her eye to soak into the top of her mask. "But really, I think Sasuke-kun was just as frustrated as Naruto. And so was I, even if I knew the importance of D-rank missions. It was a bit anticlimactic to go through all that training to end up walking dogs and pulling weeds."

She smiled wider when he made a small laugh. A sobering thought suddenly crossed her mind: Itachi had probably never been assigned a D-rank mission. More than likely, he had never done anything less than B-rank, even as a new genin at the youthful age of seven. Or if he had, she could probably count them on one hand. He caught her watching him again, and as if he read her thoughts, he glanced away.

Sakura had learned quickly after the night he revealed the truth of the Uchiha Massacre to her that Itachi rarely liked to speak about himself. She did most of the storytelling, yet she longed to hear more of his own. A plethora of questions sat on the tip of her tongue, begging to be asked, but she refrained. Besides, with him feeling so crappy, she did not wish to tax him by making him talk at length. It surprised her when he rewarded her with a tale of his own. She hoped that it meant he was feeling a bit better.

"Sasuke often tried to accompany me when I left home for missions," Itachi began to tell her. "Or follow me to watch me train. He would try and copy me only to end up hurting himself… There was this time a giant boar got into the village, ruining our crops. I was assigned to deal with it. Sasuke snuck along without me knowing, wanting to help." Itachi breathed out a few laughs. A mix of nostalgia and exasperation settled on his features, whether for Sasuke sneaking along without permission or for his own inability to have noticed his brother, Sakura couldn't tell. Probably both. "He once favored using a bow," he told her with a glance and Sakura raised a brow. She didn't know that about Sasuke. "He trained day and night with that thing. I ended up letting him assist me knowing he wanted to prove his worth. He was so confident in himself and took the mission as seriously as an S-ranked one." He laughed again, painting a picture of said boar on a rampage and how he and Sasuke collaborated in order to kill the beast. "I got him set up for the perfect shot. He completely missed it. I'll never forget the look of disbelief on his face."

Sakura smiled, finding it hard to believe Sasuke had ever missed a target. He was always good at whatever he put his mind to. But then she recalled the tree climbing exercises Kakashi had them do to hone their chakra control. That was the first time she'd ever bested Sasuke in something other than book smarts and test taking. She remembered how badly she wanted him to praise her, only to have him glare indignantly at her. Sakura sighed out a laugh as Itachi closed his eyes again. She could tell he was weary. Knowing she should probably let him rest now that his nausea abated for the time being, she was about to make the suggestion but he continued speaking.

"I sometimes wonder," he said quietly as if talking to himself. "If I had told him back then what was happening in our clan, would things have been different? Would he have been able to change my father's heart?" Sorrow hit her like a slap to her face. Unsure of what to say at his unexpected words, Sakura sat frozen. His eyes opened again and looked at her drowsily. She couldn't hide the unease in her own eyes as she watched him, the pity all but tangible as her heart broke anew for him. "Forgive me," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he looked away. "I shouldn't have said that aloud." Sakura felt like a vice reached in and wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She knew she ought to speak, to comfort, to alleviate that grief. Yet, she could find no words to console the poor troubled soul beside her.

"I'll let you rest," she replied instead, feeling cowardly. "I'll come check on you later." He only nodded his head, his eyes fathomless pools of emotion as he stared at nothing. She could never know the heartache he felt. She never wanted to.

Leaving his room, she went to her office and stood by her desk, sighing deeply. Their reminiscing was supposed to distract him, not make him contemplate the consequences of his actions from over a decade ago. Still, Itachi had opened up to her at that moment whether he meant to or not. Another crack in that mask. Another plate of armor coming off. And she had run away. Sakura grimaced. She had wanted to hear more about him, but she didn't expect him to drop such a heavy subject on her. Her own mixed emotions concerning Sasuke did nothing to help in that regard. But he had reached out in his own way, and she dropped the ball. More guilt settled down on her shoulders.

Sitting down, she rubbed her face with her hands before slumping her chin into her palms. Looking at the pink lilies on her desk, she thought back to the other morning when she first saw them there and words Yanagi had spoken to her.

"…I'm not telling you to open up to me, or anyone else. That will come in time. I just want to let you know that there are people here in Hougyoku who care about you, who are concerned about you, and who want you to be happy…"

Who was Itachi's Yanagi?

He was just as human as the rest of them and deserved someone to stand by his side. Someone who cared. Sakura knew his demons. Knew what haunted him. Knew that she was probably the only one who could offer him that comfort and be his pillar of strength as a friend and comrade. He had shouldered the burden for so long, wasn't it time for him to share it with someone?

Hardening her features, she told herself next time she'd try harder. Next time she wouldn't run away.

Two more days passed and Itachi still felt as horrible as he did since starting his treatment. Thankfully the medications and Sakura's ninjutsu helped take the edge off his nausea, but the fatigue and weakness were far worse hurdles to overcome. Getting up out of bed to see to his personal needs left him all but gasping for breath. The clinic staff were professional of course, Sakura included, but he refused to have every single shred of his dignity taken away from him. He was grateful for the male staff there to help for reasons he refused to dissect too closely.

Laying in bed all but wasting away was not only taxing on him physically, but also mentally. He felt like a prisoner to his own body, and it gave him plenty of time to ponder many things. But just as he told Sakura, it was a small and temporary price to pay if his illness would finally be gone. He would simply have to endure, and Itachi had endured much during his lifetime. This was laughable compared to the pain and trauma of his past. This too shall pass, he repeatedly told himself.

Trying again to not let his mind wander into such murky waters, he blinked those thoughts away and focused his blurry gaze on Sakura where she sat at the nurse's station working on something. From his bed he could just make out her hazy figure, fine details lost. But of course he hid it from her. There was no need to worry her about his eyes when she was already fretting over his disease and treatment. And using his sharingan to compensate was of course out of the question. Besides, the resulting migrain wouldn't be worth it.

He noticed her shift in her chair and he looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. She always got flustered when he did even if she tried to hide it. Itachi had no desire to make her uneasy in his presence. Not that he would ever blame her for such discomfort. Not after everything he had done. Not after the pain he caused Sasuke. He might be close to being blind but he wasn't clueless. Sakura had loved his brother dearly, far beyond the love of a friend or a teammate. This he knew with certainty without her having to tell him. For being a trained shinobi she struggled to mask her emotions. Five years spent living far from shinobi lands would surely cause such a lax in that regard. Or maybe she had always been that way.

He remembered how heated she became when she accused him that first night, all that rage and sorrow and pain warring on her face for him to see. She hadn't been wrong, though. He did indeed drive Sasuke away from Konohagakure and to Orochimaru in search of power. He turned him cold and calloused. He caused the rift that grew between them. And Itachi had to wonder exactly what hurt had happened between Sakura and his brother beyond the obvious. What had Sasuke done to her? Even just the mention of his name sometimes evoked visceral reactions from her. His chest felt tight suddenly, making him frown in confusion at the sensation.

There he went again, thinking about such forlorn things. Wanting to know details that were no business of his own. Just as Sakura was respectful of him, never really asking him anything too personal, he tried to do the same for her. Even if he longed to know more about his brother. About Konoha. About the war. There was pain and suffering woven into those tragedies that haunted her even after five years. Itachi empathized with her. Some things never healed, even after many long years. Time. All in good time, he told himself.

A shiver racked through his body without warning. Cold. Why was he so damned cold? It started that morning and he tried to ignore it. Suffering in silence had always been a bad habit of his. Another shiver, and then he heard Sakura's stern voice cut through the quiet like a crack of lightning.

"Itachi-san?" He winced slightly at the tone, that same tone his mother used when she was disappointed in him. He knew he was caught. Meeting that piercing gaze of hers, Itachi looked up to see Sakura watching him from her seat. "You're shivering," she said, and though he couldn't quite make out the frown on her lips, he could easily imagine it. As if her words controlled it, another tremor shook his body that he could not stop. Immediately she got up to stand in the doorway of his room, and the details of her face came into slightly better focus. He momentarily swore he saw his mother's severe expression staring at him and a mix of grief and humor clashed inside of him for a split second.

"Are you cold?" She asked, that rigid expression and posture softening as blatant worry for him flashed in those jade eyes, and all he could do was stare at her as he tried to digest that look of concern she wore. Concern for him.

"A little," he finally admitted. He couldn't seem to lie to her now that she had caught him. She made a 'tch' with her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"You're already weak. Shivering all night long will only make it worse." He thought he heard her mumble something that sounded like the word 'men' in exasperation under her breath.

"Sorry. I didn't want to be a nuisance." That firm expression shattered and she laughed as if he was being absurd.

"You're my patient," she finally said as she laughed again. "It's my job." She shook her head and snatched a pair of gloves from a nearby box before coming into his room. Worry shot through him.

"What about a gown and mask?" Sakura made a sound of dismissal.

"It's fine," she answered nonchalantly as she walked to one of the cabinets where some linens were kept. She fished out a few blankets. Itachi watched her, his mouth a straight, tight line. It amazed him how flippant she could be knowing that he was contagious. The idea of her catching the infection herself made a pit of dread form in his stomach. He would never forgive himself if she did. When she came over to his bed, her arms full of blankets, he protested again, using all his strength to sit up.

"Wait," he warned. "I'm still contagious." Sakura's grin and unbothered laugh flabbergasted him even if his face barely showed it.

"The chances of me contracting it are slim to none," she answered, setting down her pile in the chair beside his bed and picking up the top blanket, unfolding it as she talked. "Like I said before, it's a hard infection to catch."

"That may be, but…" his words trailed off as she turned towards the bed, ready to drape the blanket over him as she ignored his warning.

"It's fine," she repeated breezily as she brought the blanket up. He felt his heart beat quicker. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Sakura's wide eyes shot down to look at his hand on her, her bemusement replaced with shock. Even in his weak, shitty state he was fast. And accurate. He made sure to only touch her where the gloves covered her skin.

"Itachi…?" She met his eyes again, her lips parted, those brilliant jade irises incandescent in the dim light of his room. No fear there, just surprise and a faint shade of red blooming up her neck. She didn't even try to pull out of his gentle grasp. Trusting. How could she be so trusting of him? How could she look at him, let him touch her, let him be near her, without using that monstrous strength of hers to shatter him into a million pieces? He knew it was what he had asked of her. What he needed in order to achieve his goals. But it still astonished him that she was so passionate in her willingness to help him. He who was so undeserving of such dedication.

Itachi slowly let go of her, as surprised at himself as he was sure Sakura was with him, and set his arm in his lap as he struggled to hold her gaze. Struggled to sort through all the emotions that suddenly bombarded him.

"I'm sorry. I just… This illness…" He found himself fumbling for words, a rather novel experience. Sakura's shocked expression turned to one of endearment. That tightness in his chest returned and he fell silent, unable to articulate his thoughts. The sound of her gentle laughter rolled over him like a caress even if it only made him more befuddled.

"Alright," she chuckled in defeat as she set the blanket back. "I'll put them on. Okay?" He could only nod his head but relief flooded through him. Fully geared up, she came back in and carefully flung a blanket over him, layering on another and another, until he felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. "How's that?" she asked as she straightened them out.

"Better. Thank you," he replied quietly. He saw her answering grin in her eyes even if her mouth was covered.

"Perfect," she beamed, but that seriousness returned to her and she placed her fists on her hips as she looked down at him. "Let me know if I can help you, no matter how asinine it might seem. Okay? No more hiding stuff."

"I will." She stared, unconvinced.

"Promise?" she all but demanded with a firm look.

"I promise," he replied as genuinely as he could. Sakura nodded, apparently satisfied. He wanted to say something else, apologize again for touching her without her consent, but his words were stuck in his throat as he watched her remove her protective gear and wash her hands. She caught his gaze on her as she stopped near the door. He could tell she was still a little shaken by the way she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat, fingers fidgeting. She rolled onto the balls of her feet a few times as she asked him a question. He didn't register her words as he stared at her.

"Sorry?" He asked after blinking a few times. She tried to not laugh at him, but she failed.

"I said: how's your appetite? Are you hungry?" Instantly queasy at the idea of food, he saw Sakura cringe at her mistake before he closed his eyes, a bout of nausea rolled through him.

"Sorry," he heard her wince, and he managed to open his eyes to see the epitome of regret and apology on her features. Itachi took a deep breath, fighting the bile that wanted to rise in his throat. "I'm sorry. Too soon." He held a hand up to wave off her worry, but he didn't trust himself to speak. "Can I get you something for it?"

"No," he finally breathed out. "No, I'm fine. It passed." That anxious expression she wore made him uncomfortable, so he lowered his gaze away from her. He laid back into the bed and settled into it before schooling his expression and looking at her once more. "I think I'll just rest." Sakura hesitated, but eventually bobbed her head.

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything," she reminded him with a bright smile.

"I will." He watched from the corner of his eye as she went back to sit at the nurse's station to continue working on whatever she had been doing. Itachi was a little surprised she didn't go down the hall to her office or even shut the door behind her, but digesting exactly what that implied was too much for his wayward thoughts at the moment. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, held it for a few seconds, and let it out quietly. Itachi deliberately avoided remembering Sakura's reactions, that look on her face. His own reactions. It was easier to simply not think about what just happened at all, so he let sleep overcome him, instead. Thankfully blissful, dreamless slumber welcomed him into its embrace.

Author's Notes: Hope you guys are enjoying Turgid. Thanks for all the love and support.❤️ :)