A/N: Hello! I'm back yet again after another six-month hiatus from this story. I have reasons! I took a handful of creative writing classes online and so I wanted to comb through all my prewritten work and tidy them up. They're not perfect- but my confidence with them feels better! Eventually I'll go back through all the other posted chapters and tidy them up as well.

Enjoy this chapter entirely from Sakura's POV. We had Kakashi for a while since they were taken away from each other, now we're hopping back to the beginning and seeing it from her eyes as she desperately tries to get to Kakashi.

Trigger Warnings: Gun violence, attempted sexual assault, graphic violence, blood (a lot), etc. Please proceed with caution as always!

I'll see y'all at the end of the chapter. *kisses*

Chapter 38

She heard the door open—and then the chilling sound of a gun cocking.

Whipping around, her heart plummeted at the sight of a man aiming a gun directly at Kakashi's face.

"Found yah!" the man sneered, stepping into the room.

Sakura's grip tightened into fists. "How'd you find us?" she bit out, rage boiling in her veins.

The man looked as filthy as he sounded. Greasy purple-tinged hair slicked back with an obscene amount of gel, snaggly, discolored teeth, and a stench that reached her from across the room. But her eyes locked onto the real threat—the gun in his hand. A standard nine-millimeter, extended clip. Even if she got to her weapon, he'd still have more bullets to fire back.

"Oh, we've been searching since you two escaped. Boss wouldn't let us come back empty-handed." He tilted his chin toward Kakashi.

"Yamato?" she asked, stalling as she calculated the best course of action.

'I have to get him away from that gun. I have to keep him safe.'

"I call him 'Boss,'" the man corrected smugly.

Her stomach twisted. 'I was right… Tenzo is the one trying to kill him.'

"Let's just say the innkeeper was very cooperative in our investigation," he added.

Movement in the doorway caught her eye—another man, armed. Kakashi was forced back as both intruders stepped further inside.

'Fuck.'

They didn't stand a chance. No weapons, outgunned, outnumbered. She met Kakashi's gaze briefly. He was thinking the same thing—sizing up their enemies, searching for an opening.

"I suggest you two be cooperative," the second man drawled. "We need Kakashi alive, but the boss ordered the bitch must die."

The words had barely left his mouth when Kakashi lunged.

A shot rang out.

Sakura bolted for her gun but froze as the second man swung his weapon toward her.

Her eyes flicked back just in time to see Kakashi drive a brutal punch into his attacker's nose, eliciting a pained scream. He moved fast, disarming the man, but—

"Kakashi!" Sakura screamed as the room erupted into chaos.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot!" the second man barked.

Sakura's breath hitched as he twisted, driving his knee into Kakashi's face. The impact sent him crashing onto the motel floor.

"No!" she screamed.

The first man scrambled upright, yanking out a pair of handcuffs.

'Kakashi's going to die—and it's my fault.'

A desperate plan formed in her mind in that second of sheer panic.

'I need them to take him. They won't kill him right away. I know where they're going. If I survive, I can follow.'

"Don't kill her," Kakashi gasped, struggling against the cuffs. "Take me, but don't kill her!"

Sakura's stomach twisted as she watched him being hauled to his feet and dragged from the room. She wanted so badly to rush after. To grab him and run.

But she didn't. Sakura knew she had to sacrifice so much right now to try and save him.

He was safer away from her.

"No!" His voice was raw, desperate, as he fought back, swinging his bound hands. "Sakura!"

She flinched at the sickening thud of his body hitting the icy concrete outside.

Her instinct screamed at her to chase after him—but she couldn't. Not yet.

She had to be strong. She had to be smart. This was her only option.

She was betting everything she had that Kakashi would survive long enough for her to find him.

And when she did—

She'd burn their whole operation to the ground.

This was the biggest gamble of her life. No plan. No backup. Just sheer determination and a prayer to the gods.

"Feisty!" a voice jeered from outside. Then, a chilling order: "Kakuzu, make sure she's dead before you leave!"

Sakura's breath hitched.

"No!" Kakashi roared.

Another sickening crack rang through the night—another blow landing on him.

She recoiled at the gasp that followed. He was still fighting, still struggling to reach her, even as they beat him down. It took everything in her not to scream his name, not to run straight into their hands.

"No!" she heard him choke out; breath ragged. "Don't kill her! I did exactly what you wanted—leave her be! You have me now!"

A laugh—mocking, cruel.

Another hit. Another faint, muffled cry.

Sakura's fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. This level of abuse towards him was unnecessary at this point. The sadistic fuck was only inflicting pain because it brought him amusement.

"You really thought I'd keep a promise like that?" the man taunted. "Boss will be so happy to see her end!"

"You motherfucker!" Kakashi bellowed. "Don't you fucking touch her!"

A car door slammed. The laughter faded as footsteps moved further from the open motel door.

"Let's get out of here, Kabuto!" the voice called. "We have a long drive back to Konoha."

Sakura's gaze snapped to the man still in front of her.

Dark eyes locked onto hers—watchful, calculating.

He was tall, over half a foot taller than her at least, with a solid, muscular frame. But it was his eyes that unsettled her. Green, nearly like hers, but dull and bloodshot—whether from exhaustion, drugs, or something else, she couldn't tell.

"Calm down," the unknown voice outside called out. "The more you struggle, the more tired you'll be."

She thought she heard Kakashi scream her name but she had no time to strain her ears.

The only thing that mattered now was him. The man standing between her and survival.

She had to attack. Now or never.

"Yeah, yeah," Hidan muttered as he slammed his own door shut.

The van engine rumbled to life. Her heart dropped.

It pulled away. Sakura exhaled slowly and smirked.

His eyes narrowed, tilting his head—just slightly. Distracted.

She lunged.

Her body moved on instinct. She went low, driving into his knees.

He staggered back, off balance—

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire tore through the air, deafeningly close.

Sakura hissed as pain exploded in her left ear. A high-pitched ringing swallowed every other sound.

She didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Kakuzu rolled, cursing, but she was faster.

With a sharp kick out, she sent his gun flying across the room.

He roared something—rage, maybe a threat—before slamming into her, driving them both to the floor.

The air whooshed from her lungs.

"You fucking bitch," he spat, rancid breath hitting her face as she tried to desperately to take in air.

A fist rose to strike.

Sakura twisted, yanking her left arm free just in time—blocking the blow before it could land. She couldn't pull back in time as thick figured wrapped around her wrist and yanked upwads.

But then—

The air shifted. The threat in his posture darkened into something else.

His grip tightened even more around her wrist, pinning it hard above her head. A slow, deliberate smile curled his lips, and his eyes—those bloodshot, eerie green eyes—gleamed with a sickening kind of pleasure.

Absolute fear washed over her, but she kept her face stoney.

She hated that look.

"I can play with you before I kill you," he murmured, lowering his head to her ear.

A cold, sharp dread slithered up her spine.

Not this.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Why did it always come to this?

Why did men like him always assume power meant taking, violating, ruining?

Her stomach twisted, but she swallowed the lump in her throat. 'Think, Sakura. Stay in control.'

She forced a breath. Then another. And then, she did the only thing she could do—she played along. She had resisted once and it ended horribly. She needed to outsmart him.

"Oh?" she whispered, a teasing lilt to her voice. "You want to fool around before you kill me?"

He stilled, momentarily caught off guard by her sudden shift in demeanor.

It was enough.

His grip remained firm, but she felt the change—felt the ego slip in. The assumption that he had already won.

That was his mistake.

A rough hand slid over her body. Not Kakashi's hand.

Kakashi's touch was strong, but never cruel. Never this.

She bit the inside of her cheek to suppress the nausea rising in her throat as Kakuzu yanked the zipper of her jacket down.

She couldn't react. She couldn't show any emotion.

She felt exposed.

Even with all her clothes still on, she could feel his eyes stripping them away. The hunger in his gaze made her skin crawl.

Dirty.

She felt so fucking dirty.

'You can get through this,' she told herself. 'You're strong, Sakura. You're brave. You're stronger than you were before. You know what you're doing. Just a little longer.'

"Well," she murmured, forcing a shaky breath as a breathy sigh of arousal as his fingers slid under her shirt, "at least let me tell you what I like most."

His hand—cold, calloused, unwanted—dragged over her bare stomach, working its way up.

Her every nerve screamed for this to stop.

To fight. To run.

But she had to wait.

She let her head loll to the side, feigning surrender. Her breath came quicker, but not from arousal—from fear.

Then—

There.

A flash of metal beneath the bed. The gun she'd kicked away earlier.

Kakuzu groaned low, finally pushing over her bra and gripping her breast in a painful way.

"What's that, sweetie?" he muttered, voice thick with anticipation.

Sakura forced herself to keep breathing evenly.

'This is it.'

Her only chance. It was now or never.

Because if she didn't move—

If she didn't reach that gun—

She wouldn't survive this. She couldn't let this happen. Not again.

Sakura inhaled sharply as she snapped her eyes to his. "I like being on top."

Before he could react, she slipped his now relaxed hold and shoved him back, using his surprise to twist their positions—straddling his lap.

She hesitated for half a second, staring down at him.

Lust burned in his gaze. Eager. Mindless. Disgust churned in her gut.

'My god, is he stupid?' she thought frantically. 'I'm literally on top of him, but he's still got a death grip on my tit.'

She forced herself to move, rolling her hips against him. He wouldn't notice that he entire body was shift from it.

He groaned, a filthy, guttural sound that made her sick.

'Fifteen seconds.'

That's all she needed. She could do this.

The bile clawing up her throat threatened to spill over, but she bit her tongue and focused.

'Don't think. Just move.'

He exhaled raggedly, breath foul against her skin. His hands tightened on her.

Sakura swallowed hard. She didn't dare look at him any longer—she faked what she hoped was a sultry look and let her gaze linger away and back to the gun. She kept her gaze locked on it, just within reach.

Her plan was working.

A few more seconds.

Then—

"I'm gonna fuck your brains out," he grunted, thrusting up against her.

'No.'

Her stomach turned violently. Her breath hitched.

He noticed that.

His expression suddenly changed, but it was a sluggish realization that dawned in his eyes.

His hand started to jerk from under her shirt—

Sakura moved first.

She lunged past his head, fingers locking around the gun.

In one swift motion, she pressed it hard against his skull.

The click of the safety being switched off cut through the room.

"You'll be lucky if I don't blow your fucking brains out," she whispered, voice eerily steady as she gave him an over-the-top smile as she hovered mere inches above his face.

His body tensed beneath her. Fear—raw, sudden—flashed in his eyes.

Sakura felt him shift, testing his chances—

She dragged the gun down roughly against his skin and shoved the barrel into his cheek.

Hard.

"Move," she said flatly, "and I pull the trigger. I have zero use for you."

He froze. Smart choice.

Slowly, she sat up, letting the barrel drag down and angled it just right as she pressed it under his chin. Her finger never left the trigger. He knew he was one wrong twitch away from his brain decorating the rug he was on.

She should've just shot him.

She wanted to so bad.

Instead—

Her grip tightened on the weapon, and before he could react, she swung hard.

The butt of the gun crashed against his face.

Once.

Twice.

Blood splattered across her gloves.

Teeth cracked.

His body jerked with the first blow—then went slack.

She didn't stop.

Didn't care that he was already unconscious. She put her full weight into each swing down.

"Don't." Crack

.

"You." Crunch.

"Ever." Smash.

"Fucking." Break.

"Touch." Snap.

"Me."

She stopped.

Chest heaving.

Hands trembling.

Her vision swam, the rage slowly dissipating into nothingness.

Calm settled over her like a heavy fog.

She let her gaze drop to the man sprawled beneath her. His face was ruined—a mess of bloodly gashes and shattered bone. His mouth oozed blood as it hung open, torn lips, teeth broken, breath faint.

Alive?

Dead?

She realized she didn't care as she stood up slowly.

Sakura exhaled sharply, nudging his limp body with the toe of her boot. No response.

"Fucking creep," she muttered, spitting beside him as she yanked her jacket closed.

Without another glance, she walked over the quickly washed the blood from her hands from beating his face in. She grabbed the bags and the extra guns, stepping over him like garbage.

Because that's exactly what he was.

But even as she moved, her skin crawled. 'I need to bathe in bleach.'

The thought struck her like a slap. His hands had been on her. His breath, his weight, his voice.

Revulsion rolled over her in waves, but she shoved it down.

Now wasn't the time.

She bolted from the motel room, her breath still ragged, and spotted the large black pickup idling a few feet away.

'"Good." She breathed out when she wrenched the door open and realized it was unlocked.

Tossing the bags and guns into the passenger seat, she scrambled into the driver's seat and buckled herself in.

"Asswad thought this was going to be an easy in and out," she muttered bitterly, gripping the wheel. "Got a dose of his own fucking medicine."

Then, without hesitation, she peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the icy pavement. She had wasted enough time. Sakura pressed harder on the gas, the engine groaning as the truck surged forward. It wasn't new, but it wasn't ancient either. She'd ruin the damn thing before she drove carefully.

Her eyes flicked to the fuel gauge. Nearly full.

'Good. Hopefully, it'll be enough.'

Because she was already thirty minutes behind if the clock on the dash was correct.

And every second counted. Every second away from Kakashi was a second closer to him dying.

Her knuckles turned white around the wheel.

"Please stay safe, darling. I don't know what I'll do without you." She whispered into the car as she swallowed a sob.

She didn't realize she was speeding until the trees blurred past her in streaks of white and black. She didn't care. The hours passed in a breathless haze, her foot pressed hard on the gas. She stuck to ten—fifteen—miles over the limit, fast enough to push it, but not enough to risk a cop pulling her over.

But then—

"Fuck!"

Her heart lurched as she caught sight of the gas gauge when the knowing ding sounded in the silent cab.

Low fuel it warned in it's blinking orange light.

She could risk it—or stop now. If she ran out in the middle of nowhere, she was screwed.

No choice.

Jaw tight, she swerved off the highway to the first exit she saw, ignoring the blaring horns behind her, and sped into a dimly lit gas station.

She barely threw the truck into park before she was out the door, not bothering to turn the vehicle off.

Her hands tore through one of the stolen bags when she ripped open the passenger side until she found a fifty.

Then she was running.

"Fifty on pump two!" she shouted, slapping the bill onto the counter. The cashier barely had time to blink before she was gone.

She was at the pump in seconds, jamming the nozzle into the tank with shaking hands. While the gas flowed, she dug out the burner phone she'd picked up last night, ripping the packaging open with her teeth.

"I need to call Shikamaru." she whispered in between deep breaths as she tried to prevent a panic attack.

She snapped the back cover on and held the power button, watching the screen flicker to life. The second she heard the nozzle click, she wrenched it free, slammed the gas cap shut, and climbed back into the truck.

She was back on the highway within five minutes.

It felt like it was too long. Her foot pressed hard on the accelerator, weaving through cars at a reckless speed.

'I can't waste any more time.' She repeated that mantra like a prayer.

Over and over and over.

But her stomach twisted at the thought—

Who knew what they were doing to Kakashi right now? Tears blurred her vision. She squeezed the wheel.

Her fault.

Her fucking fault.

"We should've left the moment I woke up," she whispered hoarsely. The words felt like a hammer to her ribs.

Then—

Her undoing. The sob finally broke free before she could stop it.

And then another.

And another.

Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked through her, wails cutting through the empty truck.

"This is my fault," she screamed over and over. "I should've had the guns on me to begin with!"

Her fist slammed against the steering wheel to the point of pain. "I let my guard down!"

Hot, scalding rage burned through her grief. She wanted to burn the whole world down. She wanted to hurt anyone that would slow her down.

Her head snapped up, teeth grinding.

Her tears slowed.

Something clicked in her mind. Everything grew quiet.

Her rage sharpened, colder, deadlier.

'No.'

Her hands steadied.

Her heart stopped racing, the beat slowly into something controlled.

"He's not going to die," she whispered softly.

Sakura Haruno had never once failed a mission.

And she wasn't about to start now.

Not when this was the most important mission of her life.

Not when it was Kakashi.

She would rather die than let him—

The man she was in love with—

Die.

"I'm quite a bit more determined than they are," she murmured, voice eerily calm. "I will win in the end. I always win in the end."

A grim, lethal smirk curled her lips. "Call me competitive, but those fucks have no idea what's coming."

Then—

Her eyes snapped to the green sign ahead. The off-ramp she needed.

'Finally.'

Relief flooded her veins. She was minutes away.

Minutes away from the abandoned ROOT headquarters.

Minutes away from saving Kakashi.

With one hand on the wheel, she grabbed the burner phone and punched in a number. The one Shikamaru had given her for this mission.

She pressed call and prayed it wasn't already too late.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

"Pick up," she bit out after the third ring, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Click.

"Nara."

"They took him, Shikamaru." She didn't bother with a greeting. Her voice trembled despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "They found us, and they took him away."

A sharp inhale on the other end. Then, "What?! How?!"

"I don't know how they tracked us." She forced a slow breath, willing herself to stay composed. "It was roughly ten minutes after we got off the phone with you. They cut the power, kicked the door in, and knocked me out before I could disarm him. I came to just in time—I stopped the bastard from taking him."

She swallowed hard, the memory searing through her like an open wound. "I got answers out of him before the others showed up. Kakashi and I had to run. We made it into the woods into the storm."

Shikamaru was silent, probably moving, probably scrambling for another line in attempt to call in help.

"We hiked for two days," she continued, voice low, controlled. "Made it to a village—Aota. Got a motel room for the night. We were coming home today, but they somehow found us again. There's a guy there, by the way. I don't know if I killed him."

A pause.

Then, the worst part.

"Th-They took him." Her breath hitched as a half sob broke through. "I— I couldn't stop them this time."

Silence. She heard Shikamaru exhale, shaky, unsteady.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm on my way to save him." The words left her in a whisper, thick with desperation. Fresh tears welled, blurring the road ahead, but she blinked them away. "I got answers out of the guy who attacked us at the cabin. I know where they took him."

"Sakura—where? We need to send backup!" His tone switched from panic to an authoritative command.

"No." She spat the word like venom, gripping the steering wheel harder. "I'll do this myself. I let him get taken. I'll bring him back myself."

A sharp pain bloomed in her lip—she hadn't realized she was biting down that hard. She forced herself to breathe as the skeletal outline of the building came into view.

A defunct security firm, long abandoned, standing as nothing more than a hollowed-out ruin. She had driven past it before, never giving it a second thought. But now—

Now, it was a tomb.

"Sakura, this is fucking insane. You cannot do this alone!"

"Insanity seems to get the job done," she muttered, then ended the call.

The second the phone screen darkened; a ragged sob ripped from her throat again. Her foot slammed on the brake, jerking the car to a screeching halt in an alley a few blocks from the building.

She sat there for a moment, heaving breaths, fingers trembling over the steering wheel. Then, she forced herself to move. She could not waste another second quelling her fears when Kakashi was possibly seconds away from death.

The door swung open. Cold air hit her like a slap, but she welcomed it. She ripped off the puffy coat, tossing it onto the seat. She needed her range of motion.

Her fingers worked fast—holstering one gun, tucking the second into the waistband of her pants. She checked over the third—the one she had taken from Kakuzu. Short four bullets.

"The knife," she murmured, reaching for the backpack Kakashi had scavenged supplies from in the cave. She found the switchblade, small but deadly, and bent down, tucking it securely between her boot and sock.

Straightening, she rolled her shoulders, testing the weight of her gear.

Good. Everything checked out. Her eyes found the burner phone she had just used. She snatched it and shoved it into her front pocket of her pants.

Her pulse was a war drum in her ears as she stepped out of the alley.

The sun was blinding, reflecting off puddles and piles of dirty snow. The cold bit at her skin, but she barely felt it.

Each step toward the building was a silent promise.

'Please be alive,' she prayed.

And then she walked into hell.

A/N:
Sooooooooo... our girl lost it a bit. I don't think she overreacted at all. (lol) I think we can imagine what the next chapter will be like heh.

As always, please leave a comment with your thoughts and opinions!

I should hopefully have the next chapter posted within a month, I pinky promise!

Other news:

You Never Stay Chapter 16 will be posted within the next week! Please keep your eyes out. :)

The As If Fate Would Have It rewrite is going so strong. With the writing courses I took, my brain exploded with ideas to make this story the ~perfect~ story for my favorite couple. I didn't realize how much more I had to say in regard to my first ever fic but let's just say that it's going to most likely be more than double the chapter length the original was (it's like 33 chapters rn?). I already have the first 8-9 chapters written and like 90% edited. I'm aiming to have enough prewritten and ready for posting to start posting at the start of April!

Have a lovely morning/day/evening/night wherever you may be in the world!

Love you all so much.

Tay