Read with caution if you're not up to date with the manga
Some habits are hard to break.
For Izuku and Ochako, tucking their suffering safely behind the corners of a smile is practically default at this point. No need to worry the people they've saved when the peace they've earned is still so precarious, right? But sweeping things under the rug hasn't worked out well for society so far, and they've both watched Heroes break and fall after years standing tall and alone amid the Hero Rankings. Maybe it's time to stand together instead.
So why is opening upâeven to each otherâso hard?
Chapter 1: I must be doing this all wrong
Ochako knows, before the bite of concrete even reaches her fingertips, that this is going to cost her.
She doesn't hesitate. In a flash of pink the weight of the collapsing building vanishes and sinks like a stone into her stomach instead.
For one terrifying moment the world wavers. Black spots dance across her vision, threatening to take over, but Ochako grits her teeth and claws her way back to reality. No self-respecting Hero just gives up with lives on the line.
She won't, either.
The pain in her stomach doubles. Triples. Ochako retches, only barely managing to keep her fingers wrapped around the building's edge. Bile dribbles over the edge of her lips, but she digs her nails deeper into the rough texture instead of wiping it away. She is the only thing keeping this building in place. The only anchor keeping it here â not floating into the sky where it poses a danger to unsuspecting masses.
Not dropping onto the pedestrians they haven't yet evacuated.
Here.
But she canât hold it forever.
âMOVE!â Ochako screams. She doesnât have time to specify who the order is for before her stomach rolls again, but thatâs okay. Like theyâd been waiting for her say-so, the frozen forms around her spring into action. She can hear shouts, orders and instructions from familiar voices, and she catches a glimpse of what must be Igeniumâs blue flames out of the corner of her eye.
Relief cuts through the vice-like grip her Quirk has on her stomach. She's got backup. Her classmates are backing her up.
They're not prepared. No one's in costume. This had been a group trip to the arcade before the sirens called them here. Then again, had any of them ever been prepared for the challenges â the disasters â they'd faced? Ochako doesn't think so. Still, they'd stood together as the world burned down around them and walked through the fires, well, not unscathed, but together.
And they're here with her now.
Ochako readjusts her grip and turns her head enough to spit some of the foul taste from her mouth.
They can do this.
A window on the second floor shatters, and Ochako is reminded that the fire that burned through the support beams still rages on inside. She closes her eyes against the shards of glass that pour down. They bounce off her shoulders like raindrops â individually insubstantial pinpricks notable only as part of a whole. Cacophonous crashes add to the imagery Ochako builds behind her eyelids, but she knows better than to open them. This thunder splinters on impact, showering the street in thousands of slivers that shine and scratch.
Not ideal. The visor has long since been removed from her costume, overusing her Quirk in uniform quickly unveiled that design flaw, but Ochako fervently wishes for the long sleeves of her jumpsuit. The tank top she picked for today doesn't protect against cuts and burns â even if it wouldn't have gotten in the way of her skee ball windup.
Nothing to be done about it now. The cuts on her arms sting, but they're not deep. A couple bandaids and Ochako'll be brand-new. She shouldn't have to hold out much longer. Right? She'd been holding this building for how long, now? Almost a minute? Even if it's only Iida working on evacuation, it'll take another thirty seconds, tops.
Easy.
Ochako's stomach cramps, worse than anything sheâs ever felt in her entire life, and she folds in on herself. Standing up straight becomes an impossible task as her insides tear themselves apart.
Not easy, she quickly amends.
She doesn't have thirty seconds. Ochako grinds her teeth angrily â a pointless act of defiance in the face of her absolute limit. This isn't something she can fight, not even for the civilians still under the building's shadow, and the knowledge burns hotter than the blistering bricks against her skin ever could. Defeat tastes like ash and vomit on her tongue, but there's no denying it any longer.
No one's called the all clear. If someone could stabilize this building, they would have. She has seconds before the decision is out of her control.
After a series of unexpected events, Izuku Midoriya finds himself the owner of a pack of glow in the dark ceiling stars. What he'd really like is to give them to Urarakaâthe energetic, determined, sweet classmate he's lucky enough to call his friend--but he's new to this whole friendship thing and utterly terrified he's about to screw it all up at any given moment.
But when Uraraka has a bad day, Izuku psyches himself up to lend his shoulder. Heroes put themselves out on a limb to help people everyday, afterallâsurely friendship is no different.
It all starts because Izukuâs procrastinating.
Thereâs no reason for him to linger in the convenience store any longer, but he continues to meander with the lazy gait this Saturday afternoon demands. The protein drink he came in for is already clenched in one hand, condensation dripping down the side. A matcha energy drink he definitely doesnât need but is curious enough to try is secured in the other.
Instead of hurrying back to his homework, Izuku lets himself gravitate to the card display set up on the aisleâs end cap. Sometimes stores like this discount old card packs to ridiculously cheap prices. When that happens, he doesnât feel as guilty treating himself to a couple. The odds that the theyâll contain any of the five he still needs to complete his All Might collection are infinitesimally smallâand that really only pertains to two, because the others were limited edition prints that either werenât sold in sets or werenât printed in Japanâbut other Heroes have cool cards he wouldnât mind adding to his collection.
If nothing else, looking at different art styles is fun.
All the visible packs are full price, unfortunately. One metal hook has fallen off the peg board it was secured to, spilling dozens of sets onto the shelf beneath. Izuku tucks his energy drink into the crook of his elbow so he has a free hand to put it back in place.
None of them are marked down. After hanging the seventeenth pack, Izuku has pretty much given up hope, but he persists, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving a task uncompleted now that he's started.
âThere.â He slides the last set home and steps back, partly to admire his handiwork but mostly to ensure he hasnât missed any, andâyep. Sure enough, thereâs a familiar holographic shine around the corner.
As heâs bending to gather the discarded items, he spots them.
Heâs not sure why they catch his attention. Thereâs nothing particularly special about them, and their aged, cracked bag suggests he wouldnât be the first to overlook them, either. But the plastic stars tickle something deep in his brain, so he squats down for a closer look.
One of the staples holding the label in place rips free as he picks it up. Only Izuku's quick reaction time saves the tiny stars from scattering across the linoleum tiles like a discount galaxy. Theyâre an off-white color, tinged with faint traces of green like most things manufactured to glow are, and the printed description confirms his suspicions.
Super Stars, the creased cardstock boasts, 200 glow in the dark stars +1 bonus moon!
âUraraka would love these,â Izuku murmurs with a smile, and suddenly he knows exactly why this beat-up bag of ceiling adhesives caught his attention.
Itâs not that heâs thinking about her constantly, because that would be creepy, but Izukuâs forced to admit that Ochako Uraraka crosses his mind at least once a day. Maybe two. Okay, maybe a couple more than that, but not in a weird way! She's not the focus of his thoughts, but he's very...aware... of her.
They're friends.
As far as he can gather from Ashido, they're probably best friends, but saying that feels presumptuous because it's not like they've talked about it, and just because she's his best friend doesn't mean he's her best friend. Besides, she hangs out with Asui almost as much as she does him, and he can't talk about "girl stuff" like she can, so Asui probably has him beat there.
The thought makes him sadder than it has any right to. It's amazing that she's his friend at all; he shouldn't get hung up on whether or not he gets to be her best friend. If he absolutely needs a special title, Izuku can call her his first friend. Well, okay, technically his first friend was Kaachan, but they're more rivals than friends, so maybe he can call her his first real friend?
Yeah. Ochako Uraraka is his first real friend. That's not something anyone can take away from him.
The satisfaction he feels quickly fades, and Izuku groans, letting his head fall onto the sweaty lid of his protein drink. No one can steal 'first real friend' from him, but it's also kinda...pathetic? It feels clingy.
Which brings him back to the star dilemma.
He'd really like to get them for her. They'd go great with the constellation poster in her room, and he thinks theyâd make her smile, but he's not sure getting them from him would make her smile. Because random gifts from friends are weird, right? The last thing he wants to do is make her uncomfortaâ
"Sir, I was thinking about closing up the shop for a late lunch, so if you're ready I couldâoh! You picked up the cards!â
Izuku squeaks, surprised by the shopkeeper's sudden appearance. His energy drink tumbles to the ground, but he manages to keep hold of the bag.
"Yes! Uh, let meâjust, um, grab thisâ" His face is bright red as he chases the runaway can down the aisle. Clumsy. He has to pay better attention to his surroundings. "Sorry for keeping you waiting!"
"Don't worry about it!" The clerk insists, scooping up the two foil packs Izuku came over for in the first place. "I didn't realize you were picking these upâyou actually saved me time," he laughs. His brows narrow slightly in thought before continuing, "You want one of these packs? My treat for letting me rush you out of here."
"Oh, um, thanks! But...uh, I was actually just looking for All Might packs."
"Mmm, we don't have any, unfortunatelyâcan't keep anything All Might branded in stock these days!" The clerk looks disheartened until he spots the stars. "Well, what about those?"
"You don't have to do that," Izuku protests, "I'm not even sure I wantedâ"
"I insist." The clerk skillfully herds him towards the register. "They've been on the shelf forever, anyway." His drinks are rung up and in a plastic bag with the stars before he can stammer out another word. "Was just about to mark them down again, believe it or not. Really, you're doing me a favor."
"Well, okay." Short of reaching over the counter and unbagging the stars himself, there's not much he can do anyway. The card reader beeps as Izuku pays, and he punches in his PIN quickly. "Um, thank you then!"
"Thank you!" The shopkeeper corrects, handing over his receipt and purchases."Have a nice afternoon!"
The door barely shuts behind him before Izuku hears the deadbolt twist home. He sighs, trying to disperse the anxious energy that built up in the last few minutes. It works better on the second attempt; his shoulders actually relax enough to come down from their place at his ears.
Still he's left with a questionâseveral, actually, but they boil down to this:
The recent installation of motion-activated light sensors across UA caused more chaos that Class 2-A originally intended.
They activated off at the drop of a hat, literally. When Jirou suggested blaming the hypersensitive lights on a fabled rock ghost, the oversensitive lights suddenly weren't as worrisome. They quickly became another quirk of dorm life â like the stolen snacks and shower sandals and soft snores that echoed through the walls at night.
It was all in good fun.
Until it wasn't.
Izuku looked up as the hall light clicked on again, pencil clenched tightly in his grip.
âBet'cha one answer that thereâs someone in the hall this time,â Ochako said, not giving Izuku a chance to respond before bounding from her bed to the doorway. He lurched from his seat as Uraraka poked her head into the hall, heart lodged somewhere in his throat. It was dumb. There was no reason for him to this worked up over wonky electricity connections, butâ
âAw, man. No one again,â Uraraka whined dramatically, wilting against the door frame. She recovered quickly â spinning around and clapping her hands enthusiastically â but the tightness around her eyes belied her mutual unease. âSo! Stuck on anything?â
Izuku let Uraraka snatch his physics homework without resistance, mind still somewhere in the hallway.
When all was said and done, everyone agreed that the automatic lights in the 2-A dormitory hallways and staircases were a terrible idea.
A conclusion made only more painful by the fact that the students themselves had advocated for their installation. It was a trivial thing to get up in arms about, in retrospect. UA certainly had the funding to keep all their buildings lit, if their ever increasing defenses were any indication, but Kaminari gave a presentation on the widespread effects of commercial energy waste one day, and it snowballed from there.
The widespread negligence horrified Class 2-A into action. Maybe they were nosy Hero students. Maybe, as a generation, they were particularly sensitive to letting issues fester these days. Maybe they were bored. In the end, it didn't matter. They cared, suddenly and ferociously, about driving down UA's contribution to the issue. The presentation kicked off two months of research, campaigns, and presentations to Board members that culminated in the installation of over five hundred motion activated light sensors across the entirety of UA's campus.
And they worked!
...for the most part.
Because of the range of Quirks and body types UA catered to, the motion sensors the school purchased were designed with an extremely low limit of detection. The good news was the sensors were as sensitive as advertised. Hagakure boasted she was able to activate the hall lights wearing nothing but a pair of bangle bracelets. Questions as to when or why Hagakure conducted such experiments were neatly and summarily dodged.
The bad news was that the lights were as sensitive as advertised.
âI think youâre off by a factor of two here somewhere.â Uraraka tapped his homework, drawing Izuku back from his musings. He blinked, then focused on the scrawl of equations under Uraraka's fingertip.
Ah. This question.
âReally?â Heâd been so confident in his workflow. âWhatâd you get?â
âFourteen.â She offered him her notebook so he could look over her work. His eyes bounced between the two papers.
It surprised him at first. For someone so cute, he'd expected Uraraka's handwriting to beâŠneater. Not that he could talk. Iida was perpetually annoyed with them both. Anyway, he had enough practice reading her handwriting that he could tell their work was identical right up untilâŠ
âUgh,â Izuku groaned, dragging the eraser over the second half of his work. âI totally did.â But fourteen was a weird answer for this problem, considering the â aha. âYou forgot to account for the acceleration, though.â
âAcceleration?â She frowned, more at her notebook than him, then leaned over the desk to read the problem out of his open textbook.
âI forgot gravity!â
He snorted. This recurring problem for Uraraka â common enough that it'd become something of an inside joke among the class â was even more entertaining considering her Quirk.
âOh hush,â Uraraka huffed, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance. It only made her look cuter, though Izuku had no intention of telling her. She snapped her notebook closed and spun on her heel to stomp back to her bed. âNo more physics help for you!â
âI could say the same thing,â he found himself teasing back. Everything was easier with Uraraka.
Light vanished from the hallway, darkening Ochakoâs doorway once more. Both studentsâ attention immediately flicked to it, the sudden darkness, searching for an answer that never appeared. The easy atmosphere vanished entirely, vacuumed up as if the inky blackness waiting just outside the door was the void of space itself.
Ridiculous to think that two Heroes in training could be shaken so quickly. Theyâd argued for this. Theyâd fought for these dark hallways because it felt like the right thing to do, but ⊠this wasnât right. Unease dripped down his spine like a continuous shiver, and Izuku couldnât shake the feeling that he wasnât safe to turn his back on the hallway. He didnât miss the way Urarakaâs jaw clenched, either.
The darkness itself wasn't the issue. Izuku knew these halls well enough to navigate them without a flicker of light as his guide, they all did, but it served as an insistent reminder of the mysteries lurking just out of sight.
After all, three different electricians spent a week on site, and none of them found any issues with the lights. As far as anyone could tell, everything was wired perfectly.
âKoda thinks insects could be triggering the lights,â Izuku offered, still watching the doorway. âNot flies or anything, but â like, moths and spiders.â It would certainly explain the number of times heâd watched a light click on â in the stairwell, in the hallway â only for no one to appear around the corner.
âI like that betterân Minaâs theory, anyway.â Uraraka abandoned her homework and wrapped her arms loosely around her knees. âWhy would a new construction have ghosts?â
Izuku chuckled, but it felt hollow. He couldnât quite summon the same amusement from earlier. âWouldnât someone had to have died hereâŠ?â
âExactly!â Uraraka exclaimed, pointing at him like heâd made her point for her. âWhy would a ghost start hauntinâ UA now all the sudden?â
They launched into an avid discussion of the reasons Minaâs theory was ridiculous. UA had never suffered rumors of hauntings, even as long lived as the campus was, and it wasnât like the school was built on a cemetery or anything. Probably. And anyway, why would a ghost start haunting them months after construction was finished? They raised and countered every argument they could think to offer with a single-minded focus that undermined their dismissiveness. Neither stopped to consider why they were both so determined to disprove this explanation in particular. They ignored the creeping sensation that peeked its head up and hummed, Something here is not quite right.
I always feel an overwhelming urge to take a snapshot when my fics hit "fun numbers" of kudos. The support for my writing is a big part of the resulting smiles but also my sense of humor is trash đđ
They All Know My Name (But I Wanna Hear You Say It)
Drawing lines between the personal and professional is hard, and Izuku struggles with how much of himself he's willing to share with the world. It takes a Color Run and round of semi-public sex for Ochako to remind him that they belong togetherâregardless of the personas they wear.
Excited murmurs pressed in against Deku as he idly scanned the crowd for the twelfth time in so many minutes.
And he was Deku today, even if the lack of costume might normally suggest otherwise.
Musutafu's First Annual Color, a âCelebration of the Diversity of Quirks' organized by Pro Heroes Pinky and Invisible Girl, was an official event. Since he'd officially volunteered his time, that meant his presence was in official Hero capacity. He repeated this to himself as he fiddled anxiously with the compression sleeve that covered everything to his elbow these days, trying to lock his Hero persona in place. Appearances like thisâstripped bare of his uniform with only his Hero name to protect his privacy from the publicâwere much more commonplace now. Which DekuâIzuku (both?)âsupported wholeheartedly in theory.Â
Somewhere along the way, society had forgotten that Heroes were human, too. Theyâd been raised on pedestals, higher and higher until the faces in the clouds could no longer be made out on the streets below. That misinformation spread across counties and countries alike until the Heroes themselves believed it. The internalized lie had ugly and far-reaching consequences. This didnât just take the form of Heroes abusing their positions of power, although it was very clear now that many had, but also manifested in the Heroes who tore themselves into smaller and smaller pieces for public consumption until there was no hint left of the person who once put on the costume.
So there was a deeper purpose to these appearances. A reminder to the public that there was a human being tucked away behind the spandex and support gear. A reminder to the Heroes that they themselves were more than their career. Both were important components in bridging the divide that had formed between the public and their protectors. They had different roles, but they were one community. It was important to remember that.
...kinda uncomfortable, though.
And thatâs where the âin theoryâ part of his support kicked in.
Because the truth was, there wasn't space for Izuku Midoriya in the public sphere. Not on the whole, at least. It was his job to break his personality down to bite sized pieces. Which bits could he share to humanize himself without reminding everyone how fragile that humanity actually was? He could give a speech advocating for the rights of Quirkless individuals but had to avoid ever raising his voice on the topic. He could be open about his weekly therapy appointments but had to hide any symptom that hinted at why he might need them. It was a game of boundaries and control and restraint, in the end.
Why Do You Feel So Close (But Youâre Oh So Far Away?)
Major manga spoilers in this fic
Rescue missions arenât the sprint that combat missions are, Ochako is quickly learning. Rescue missions are a marathon. And, yes, time is still an important factor, but on her track, enduranceâof her body, of her mind, of her spiritâreigns supreme.
The fact of the matter is, Ochako's tired. She's tired, on so many levels, but mostly she's tired of this limbo. Her life is on hold. No matter how she chooses to fill her time, Ochako knows she's just biding time: waiting for another attack, waiting for the cities to be put back together again, waiting for school to start.
Waiting for Deku to wake up.
âxâDay 1âxâ
"Oh Deku," Ochako breathes, taking in the sight of the boy before her.
Visiting Izuku in the hospital isnât a new experience, but heâs truly outdone himself this time. Thick, white plaster encases each of his limbs. Even if he was conscious, Ochako thinks Deku would struggle to move the heavy weights. That's probably the reason for the pulley system keeping each appendage suspended off the mattress. Either that, or the medical staff doesnât want to put any more stress on his shattered bones.
Ochako's stomach, already sensitive from a full day of using her Quirk, rolls. Why does it always end like this? Too much first-hand experience with Deku's injuries means she doesn't have to imagine the damage hiding underneath the plaster. Flashbacks of blackened flesh and the unstructured movement of boneless arms parade through her head like a horrifying slideshow.
It's the USJ all over again. It's the summer training camp. UA's entrance exam. Their first Hero trainingâStain.
Why does it always end up like this?
No matter what choice she makes. No matter how she tries to help him, somehow Ochako always ends up...here. Standing in front of Deku's hospital bed.
She's tried to support him.
She's tried to save him.
She's tried to stand beside him.
She's tried to hold him back.
She's tried to trust him.
But still� Still this. Still standing in this acoustic tile room that smells like dead flowers and antiseptics. Still listening to the insistent electronic beeping and counting breaths. Still absolutely powerless to keep him safe.
The worst part is Ochako can't even be mad at him. She understands why he did it. Her first proud moment as a hero wasn't the result of a conscious decision. Seeing Deku writhe in pain during their match with 1-BâOchaku just moved. Pure instinct drove her forward to protect him from hurting himself. Long before she had any plan on how to make that reality, Ochako was airborne.
And, yeah. Maybe it was reckless. Those charged black whips were a completely new phenomena at that pointâa variable that could have panned out badly for both of them. But Ochako looks back at that memory and smiles becauseâthat's it. That's what it feels like to have no regrets. To know that she may have put herself in harm's way, but her actions made a difference for someone else.
And Deku has made a difference.
It's easy to miss from the outside. In the aftermath, in the hospital, most people see an injured first year and shake their head. Rash, they think. Careless. Another young boy drowning in the deep end.
Maybe there's a kernel of truth in that. Maybe Deku has taken on more than he can handle. If that's true, though, it's only because he could see others buckling under the strain. Because Deku looked at a situation with that brilliant, tactical mind of his and thought, I might not win, but I can help.
How can Ochako not find that inspiring?
Heroes step up when there's a need, they've been taught. Well, it turns out that sweet, stammering Deku has a spine of steel to go with that heart of gold. Armed with an unyielding moral compass and double-edged Quirk, he's proven more than ready to rise to every challenge thrown this way. Itâs amazing. Heâs amazing. And as scary as it can be to watch Deku shatter against his upper limits, watching him chase his dream of becoming the Number One Hero has pushed motivated Ochako into her own Plus Ultra moment more than once.
But, even stillâŠ
...Ochako just wishes Deku didn't see himself as such an acceptable sacrifice. He matters. It matters that Deku is destroying his body for them. It matters that he's laying here in this damn full-body cast.
Tears escape onto her checks. Ochako lets them fall unhindered. Deku, of all people, would understand the need to cry right now. Her chest is full, tight, with a mess of contradicting emotions. She's proud of him. She's furious with him.
She's terrified.
If this isn't the first time, then logic says it won't be the last, either. There will come another night that Ochako stands at the foot of his bed and wonders how many more times can his body take this abuse?
How many more times will Deku get back up?
A soft knock sounds on the door before it creaks open slowly. Ochako hiccups in surprise. Drawing the back of her hand across her nose, she hastily tries to piece herself back together for whoever has just walked in.Â
"Young Uraraka?" A large, warm hand lands on her shoulder. All Might. "The hospital staff just informed me that visiting hours are over. You should go get some rest."
"R-right!" Ochakoâs voice sounds thick even to her, so she tries again. "I'll goâI'll go do that, then."
Moving slowly to give her stiff muscles a chance to wake up, Ochako makes her way to the door. Once there, she canât resist pausing to look back at Deku one more time. The slow rise and fall of his chest is the only solace she can take from his broken and bruised form. Ochakoâs hand tightens on the doorframe, lips drawing into a thin line. She hates this.
âYoung Uraraka.â
Ochakoâs gaze snaps from her friend to the emaciated man standing next to him. Electric blue eyes burn intensely from within their sunken depths. She instinctively draws herself up taller under his gaze.
âYoung Midoriya will get back up,â he promises in a voice that rings with the power and conviction of the former Number One Hero. âI have full confidence he'll come out the other side of this experience as well."
As well. Because this is far from the first time Deku has been bed-bound in a hospital. The thought leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, but Ochako manages a wane smile around it anyway. The amount of confidence All Might has in Deku is heartening. It takes a special kind of personâa special kind of heroâto catch the eye of the former Symbol of Peace. Does Deku know how much faith his idol has in him?
It feels necessary to answer a declaration like that with one of her own. She nods sharply at her teacher and lets the hard-edge of her determination shine through her eyes.
A Game of Puzzles (Making the Pieces Fit) Chapter 5
Summary: With the war over and Sasuke home again, Sakura is more hopeful for Team 7âs future than she has been in a long time. Sheâs quickly disappointed to find that nothing in the Village fits quite like it used toânot her old bedroom, not her clothes, and definitely not Team 7. Join Sakura as she scrambles to understand her place in this new team dynamic.If she has a place there at all.
-OR-
It takes three dorks a painfully long time after moving in together to realize that they all belong together.
Confidence is really not her thing.
Actually, confidence has always been Sakuraâs problem so it should be no surprise that her heart is practically hammering out of her chest as sits in her usual spot on their couch. Both Sasuke and Naruto have joined her at her requestâSasuke in his chair and Naruto on the side of the couch closest the doorâand wear expressions that reveal varying levels of concern. She doesnât blame them. Sakuraâs fairly concerned herself.
Theyâre going to talk. Finally.
And by talk, she means that sheâs going to try confessing to the bothâagainâand pray it doesnât blow up in all of their faces like it has every other time so far. Sheâs terrified, but the time is finally right. This isnât a desperate heat-of-the-moment confession, squeaked out on the battlefield because there might not be another chance, but something sheâs carved time out for. Actually having time to consider her actions is a whole new level of terrifying, for sure, but for the first time Sakura actually feels...well, not confident but something close to that.
Thereâs no guarantee that this will go the way she wants it to. Even with all the clues Sakura thinks sheâs managed to piece together, the only people who can tell her how they feel are Naruto and Sasuke themselves, but at least she can rest assured that she gave them her best shot.
"I think that we're being a little ridiculous," Sakura begins, eyes focused on the way her toes flex in her socks. She hears Naruto make an inquisitive noise, and even though Sasuke doesn't react, she's positive he's listening.Â
She keeps her eyes firmly lowered, gathering the courage she needs for this conversation.
"If I'm wrong thoughâif I'm wrong, I want you to tell me. I'm working on a lot of assumptions here, and IâŠ" Sakura exhales sharply, willing herself to stop waffling, and raises her head. "I really think this could work, but we all have to want it, okay? If we're not all equally committed, there's no point."
Sensing the comment is predominantly directed at him, Sasuke raises his eyebrows.
"You know I love you."Â
Sasuke's eyebrows, if possible, raise higher. He nods, though, slow and confused as it may be, and his acknowledgement gives Sakura the freedom she needs to focus her attention on Naruto instead.
His face is contorted in a painful grimaceâlike he just found one of Sakuraâs textbooks with his bare pinkie toe. As soon as he notices her looking, Naruto tries to morph his expression into a supportive smile, but too much misery seeps through the edges of his facade to be anything close to believable. Sakuraâs heart clenches painfully. Somehow the smile cuts so much deeper than any open anguish he displayed before. If anything, seeing Naruto fail to fake happinessâhaving actual proof that the idea of her dating Sasuke causes him distressâconvinces Sakura more than anything that this is the only path forward.Â
Being with Sasuke would make her happy, maybe even happy enough to live a full life, but not at the cost of Narutoâs smile. Never that. Not just because she feels she owes himâwhich admittedly plays a small part in the decisionâbut because she loves him. She canât be happy with Sasuke if Narutoâs sad because her happiness is intrinsically tied to Narutoâs.
And maybe thatâs a bit clingy. Maybe thatâs a sign of codependence that she should really look into, but Sakura canât bring herself to care. She needs them. Sakuraâs woven Sasuke and Naruto so tightly into her life, into herself, that she literally can not conceive of a future where she has to let either one of them go.
It feels greedy. It feels like sheâs asking for too much, and itâs hard to shake the feeling like the universe is going to strike her down where she sits for reaching out to both of them.
Sakura grabs Narutoâs hand.
âBut I love you, too, Naruto. I really do.â She squeezes his hand to emphasize her sincerity. Naruto blinks, bewildered, and Sakura tries not to focus on how sad that makes her. Her grip on his hand tightens, but she canât be certain whether sheâs trying to anchor herself or Naruto in that moment. âIâI made a lot of mistakes in Iron,â she says, and she feels the way both boys simultaneously recoil even as their attention sharpens. âOne of them was my confession to you, butâno, not for the reason you think! I just...I approached it the wrong way. I thought that offering you my affection would free you from your promise to bring Sasuke home. I thought you were forcing yourself to do it for me, and I knew it was hurting you, and I...I just wanted you to stop hurting. I couldnât stand watching you in pain like that, and I thought I was the cause.â Sakura shakes her head, smiling ruefully, and adds, âStupid thought, in retrospect. We each had plenty of reason to chase Sasuke across the globe on our own.â
âWhat, uh, what do you mean by that, Sakura?â
Heâs nervous, fidgeting under her gaze, and of all the things Sakura anticipated he might react to, that was not it. Still, he hasnât called her a liar this time, so things are actually going pretty well, all things considered.
âI know you loved me when we were kids,â she says, and gods is it unnerving to say that. He made no secret of his crush when they were genin, but even though heâs pestered her for dates since heâs been back, Sakura has no guarantee that the feelings are anything deeper than that. He hasnât denied her, though, so Sakura forges forward to the more difficult part of the conversation. âBut I..I think youâre in love with Sasuke too, Naruto.â
Instead of going wide-eyed or loudly denying it, Naruto slumps against the couch with a defeated sigh. âSo you figured it out. What gave me away?â
Although sheâs relieved she hasnât just caused a public revelation of his feelings, Sakura canât deny being confused.
âWait, you knew?!â
"Well, yeah, of course," Naruto says with a roll of his eyes, "I've always been a mess for Sasuke. Jiraiya was actually the one to help me figure out why I was so desperate to save Sasuke, believe it or not. I was so in love with you that I was convinced I was straightâdidnât even realize âbothâ was an option."
Sakura feels a wave of fondness for the late Toad Sage. His romance novels feature an overwhelming number of straight protagonists, so sheâs glad he was able to approach the conversation with any sort of sensitivity. She misjudged himâat least partially.
âBut look, Iâll deal with it, okay?â Naruto takes the chance to squeeze her hand reassuringly. That, combined with his melancholy tone, causes Sakuraâs eyebrows to narrow suspiciously. She has a feeling she wonât like the words that come out of Narutoâs mouth next, and that niggling suspicion solidifies when he continues, âYou and Sasuke are perfect for each otherâIâve known it since the Chunin exams. Iâll...I can move out next weekend, maybe, and thenââ
âNo,â Sakura and Sasuke declare in unison, forcefully cutting off their teammateâs rambling plan before it can get a single step further.
The echo startles both of them. Sakura looks at Sasuke only to find him regarding her with the same mild interest and surprise. Clearly neither of them expected the backup, but the idea of Naruto leaving the apartmentâthemâwas so reprehensible that they both had to object. That train of thought needed to be cut off immediately. Sasuke nods at her, and her heart swells at the show of solidarity. If nothing else, theyâre united on this front.
âSee? Like that.â Naruto points between the two of them like theyâve just proven his point. âYouâre both on an entirely different wavelengthâyou donât even need words to communicate.â
Thatâs rich, coming from the man who claims to be able to understand Sasukeâs heart through fists alone, and Sakura grinds her teeth to stop herself from snapping at him. Her patience is wearing thin, but she digs up the last of it to gentle her tone as she tries again.
âNaruto, havenât you been listening to me? I love boââ
He pulls his hand out of hers, successfully derailing her attempt to reason with him.
âI donât want your pity, Sakura, okay?â Naruto declares, voice as frosty as the time he shot down her first confession. âI know youâre trying to avoid hurting me, and I love you for that, Sakura, but that doesnât mean youâre in love with me. I think pretending that you are hurts me more than just accepting that it will never happen.â
Okay, enough of this bullshit.
Sakura springs from her spot on the couch and grabs two handfuls of the front of his shirt, hauling him to the edge of his cushion.
âYou do not get to tell me how I feel, Naruto,â she growls. Theyâre so close their noses are practically touching and her eyes are immediately drawn to that damn freckle on his lip. âYou donât know how much you brighten my day when you tell me âwelcome home.â When I hear you in the kitchen before my alarm goes off, I get up early so that I can spend a couple extra minutes having tea with you even though Iâm fucking exhausted. When Iâm sitting next to you on the couch all I want is to burrow under your arm and hope you never let me go, and you know what? I do want to avoid hurting you. I do go out of my way to make your day better if I can, and itâs not because I pity you, itâs because I would give up anything and everything for you and, yes! Yes that does mean that I love you, youâyouââ
What exactly Naruto is, Sakura never finds out, because his lips press to hers before she can come up with a suitable descriptor.
A Game of Puzzles (Making the Pieces Fit) Chapter 4
Summary: With the war over and Sasuke home again, Sakura is more hopeful for Team 7âs future than she has been in a long time. Sheâs quickly disappointed to find that nothing in the Village fits quite like it used toânot her old bedroom, not her clothes, and definitely not Team 7. Join Sakura as she scrambles to understand her place in this new team dynamic.
If she has a place there at all.
-OR-
It takes three dorks a painfully long time after moving in together to realize that they all belong together.
Itâs the first time Sakura remembers October 10th ever being this...jovial.
The streets are always crowded this time of year, but the laughter seems oddly out of place. Gone are the mournful monochromatic clothes sheâs used to. Everything she looks atâthe clothes, the storefronts, the peopleâis so bright she has to work to avoid squinting.
âOooh, Sakura, look, thereâs a dango stand!â
Brightest of all is Naruto. Heâs actually wearing less orange than usual, having been convinced into a pair of dark tan pants, but his expression more than makes up for the loss. Each street vendor and colored lantern is taken in with equal amounts of awe. He looks like a kid at his first birthday party, whichâŠ
...itâs a painfully accurate description. Sakura tries not to think about it.
âDidnât you just eat like five bowls of ramen?â she teases. Naruto opens his mouth and closes it, looking for an excuse, but Sakura elbows him lightly in the side. âJust kidding, letâs go grab some. I heard they were going to add a new flavor today, too.â
âOf course itâs for you,â Sasuke cuts in from behind them. Walking three across really isnât possible in these crowds, but, like most genin teams, Team 7 feels most comfortable navigating public spaces in a loose triangle formation. âItâs not like Konoha has anything else to celebrate today, right?â
The pointed question isnât lost on Naruto, who visibly deflates. Sakura spins to glare at Sasuke and catches a flash of a frown as his gaze drops to the pavement. Itâs not Naruto that Sasuke is annoyed with, but thatâs exactly who heâs hurting with his bitterness. It doesnât take much for Naruto to swing to extreme sadness when heâs this happy, which Sasuke knows. She had hoped he would mind his temper today.
âHey.â Sakura draws Narutoâs hand into hers and gives him her best smile. âWhy donât you take Mr. Killjoy and find a spot to sit for a bit. Iâll bring the dango over, okay?â
Narutoâs smile starts small, but quickly grows as she holds his hand.
âYeah, Iâll keep him out of trouble,â he agrees, âCould you grab a couple different flavors?â
âAs many as I can carry,â she assures him. Sakura sends one last pleading look at Sasuke before they disappear. Sheâs pretty sure he rolls his eyes at her, which isnât exactly a promise to behave, but it does mean that he got the message. Probably. Hopefully.
Once Naruto is out of view, Sakura takes a quick second to get her emotions back in check. Sasukeâs right. The Villageâs abrupt one eighty in its treatment of Naruto grates her nerves if she lets herself think about it for too long. Theyâd gone from disdain to reverence in the span of six months. Technically this is a festival celebrating the end of the war, but thereâs been a fair amount of Uzumaki branded treats and well-wishes from strangers as well.
At least she had apologized.
A couple deep breaths later, Sakuraâs pushing through the crowds towards the stand. Thereâs a line forming, but the vendor calls Sakura forward as soon as he sees her. Embarrassed, Sakura ducks her head in a small apology to the people in line as she moves past them. She doesnât want to make more of a scene than she already is, and she really wants to get back to her team as soon as she can.
âCould I get two Hanami dango, a mitarashi dango, and aââshe cranes her neck to get a better look at the name of the new flavor from the poster on the side of the cartââand one Uzumaki dango, please?â
âAbsolutely! Would you like a Team 7 dango as well?â
âOh!â Thereâs nothing about a Team 7 dango on the sign. Is that actually a thing? Did he make that up when he saw her? âUm, yes, please. Thank you.â
By the time Sakuraâs done counting out her coins, the dango are being shoved towards her. She scrambles to put her money pouch away and grab her sweets without holding up the line any longer. Four of the dango end up in one hand while a white, pink, and orange dango ends up in the other. It takes her a second to realize that this is supposed to be the Team 7 dango. The anger kicks in a second later.
To be fair to the vendor, sheâs never actually seen blue dango before. Then again, sheâs never seen a red habanero dango before today, and thatâs definitely one of the flavors on the Uzumaki stick. Choosing the white dango for Kakashi feels like a dig at Sasuke. Sakura bites the orange dumpling off the stick and chews furiously. There. Now it just looks like a partially eaten Hanami dumpling.
That âTeam 7â roll better not be on the actual menu. For the vendorâs sake.
Sakura finds Naruto and Sasuke sitting on top of one of the tables in an eating area, of all places. She has no idea whoâs idea that was. Itâs an extremely rude thing to do with so many people looking for seats, but Sakura doesnât really want to be joined by the type of people who are deterred by her teammatesâ antics right now.
Naruto spots her first and starts waving wildlyâas if she could have missed the pair of them. Sasuke turns to see who has caught Narutoâs attention. When he recognizes her, he pulls one of his legs off the bench and onto the table so sheâll have a place to sit. Naruto follows his lead, pulling both his feet off the bench and into a criss-cross position. So they were trying to deter people from sitting with them.
Sheâs not even mad.
âOne mitarashi dango, one hanami dango, and one Uzumaki dango,â she declares, handing over her loot. Naruto cheers, promptly digging into the hanami stick as soon as itâs in his hand. Heâs two dumplings deep before Sakuraâs even fully seated.
Sasukeâs eyebrow raises as she nibbles on her own dango. âYou got two hanami dango for yourself?â
Busted.
âUh, one of them is for you?â she tries. At Sasukeâs unimpressed expression, she relents, âFine. Yes, I got two hanami for myself.â He still looks skeptical for some reason, so she tries for classic misdirection, âYou might actually want to try the red dumpling from the Uzumaki dango, though, Iâm pretty sure itâs spicy.â
âIt is?â Naruto pauses his munching on the mitarashi stick to take a bite of the red dumpling before recoiling immediately. âAckâit is! Why is it spicy?â
Sakura laughs. âI think the colors represent your family. The orange and yellow are pretty self-explanatory, so the red is probably for your mom. For the Uzumaki hair, Iâm guessing. I donât know why they didnât choose cherry or something, thoughâthat would have gone better with the rest of the flavors.â
âHer nickname was the âRed-hot Habanero,â so thatâs probably it,â Naruto explains, his smile dimming. Itâs Sasukeâs turn to glare at her, and she winces, appropriately abashed. She always manages to stick her foot in her mouth when the conversation turns to parents. âAnyway, you should try it, Sasuke. Itâs not sweet, like, at all, so I bet youâll like it.â
Sakura figures the odds are skewed sixty/fourty in favor of Sasuke rejecting the offer, but Sasuke doesnât actually say anything at all. Instead he bends down and bites the rest of the dumpling right off the stick that Narutoâs holding. Some of the drizzling sauce clings to his lower lip, and his tongue darts out quickly to wipe it clean.
Sheâs not even the one holding the stick, but Sakura is absolutely certain her heart fucking stutters to a stop at the sight. Poor Naruto looks appropriately shocked. His lips are parted in a gentle âoâ of surprise, and his eyes are, dare she say it, looking a little glazed over. He rallies quickly, though, shoving the rest of the Uzumaki stick right under Sasukeâs nose.
âTry the orange one next!â
âUgh, no.â Itâs Sasukeâs turn to recoil. âThat one probably is sweet, dumbass.â
"Come on," Naruto wheedles,"Just take a littleâwait. Wait, are you saying my mom tastes better than I do?"
"Why do you have to phrase it like that!"
The words are different, but the cadence of her teammates bickering is familiar enough that it quickly fades to the background of her attention. She works through the rest of her "hanami" roll at a leisurely pace, scanning the crowds as she does. There's so much laughter. Even actual festivals haven't been this boisterous for years.
Most of these people weren't on the war front. It's easy to resent them for thatâfor celebrating the anniversary of such a trying day. Victory is not a reward granted, but a luxury paid for in blood and flesh by the pound. She understands the relief, but is this much pomp and circumstance acceptable? Does a life saved by a black market kidney still deserve celebration?
Sakura doesn't know.
A child screams, high and piercing, shattering through the joyful murmur of the crowd. Her teammates' argument grinds to a halt. Sakura swivels to locate the source, and, in her periphery, she notices the majority of the adults around her do the same. Chakra flares around her as ninja spread their senses in search of a threat.
"Kenta!" a petite woman scolds, bending down, "What did I say about screaming?"
"Not to," the child mumbles. He's small enough that a picnic table nearby obscures him from Sakura's view.
"Unless?" the woman prompts. If Kenta answers, it's too quiet for her to hear.
Everyone in the vicinity, ninja and civilians alike, visibly relaxes. It's sobering to realize how on-edge they all are despite the upbeat atmosphere. Life has not been kind to Konoha's residents.
How self-absorbed of her.
No, the civilians around her didn't watch Neji die. They didn't despair as the Ten-tailed beast appeared in the battle-ground. To say they didn't know fearâdidn't know sufferingâis terribly short-sighted.
Konoha is a thriving militaristic society. Has been for decades. But having the pointiest sick doesn't ensure safety. Often the wielder becomes a target of others struggling to create their own rags to riches stories.
Or revenge. Pointy sticks are great at poking avengers into action.
Point is, Konoha has been leveled three times in Sakura's short time on this earth. If the civilians don't get to celebrate the peace she fought for, maybe she doesn't get to celebrate the Village they rebuilt.
Food for thought.
Sakura lays her finished dango stick on the table. The untouched dango stick sags in her hand with her increasing disinterest. Her recent train of thought is more than enough to derail her appetite entirely despite the fact that dango is one of her favorite treats.
"You okay?" Naruto asks immediately. He glances at the dango dangling in her grasp pointedly.
Sakura doesn't even have to force the smile. His concern forces its way through the heavy stormcloud of her thoughts like the sunbeam he is. Sweet. Naruto's just so sweet.
"I'm fine.â She fans herself with her free hand. "Just kinda hot, yeah? It's killing my appetite."
Naruto's expression clears immediately. "In that case, let's go get some shaved ice soon! I think I saw a vendor on our way in."
"I did not sign up to wrangle the two of you on a sugar high," Sasuke interjects sourly. Sweet sauce is smeared across his cheekbone, and there might be a crumb of fried dough occluding one nostril. Sakura chokes on a giggle which clearly earns no points from Sasuke. "No more sweets."
Sakura raises her hands in surrender, but Naruto isn't as quick to acquiesce. They start bickering, again, and as Sakura watches a dango skewer slides dangerously close to Sasuke's eye. Idiots. That does explain the out-of-place dough and sticky sauce, though.
The reprimand on her tongue withers at the enthusiastic sparkle in Narutoâs eyes as he advances further and further into Sasukeâs personal space. And Sasukeâbrooding, angsty Sasukeâhas a smile playing at his lips as he avoids the sticky dessert. Heâs making a good show of being annoyed by his teammateâs antics, but if he was really done heâd be slapping the blond away. Angry Sasuke wouldnât lean back unconcernedly on his only hand like that, and he certainly wouldnât let Naruto rest his stump on his shoulder as he pesters him.
Bright. Itâs so, so bright out todayâridiculously sunny for Octoberâbut no amount of sunblock would protect her from their megawatt smiles.
If the fight gets enthusiastic enough to disturb the table, she'll step in, Sakura decides, turning her head to give them a little privacy.
Or the illusion of it, anyway.
Sakuraâs not sure how her teammates are able to ignore all the attention theyâre attracting. The picnic table they have selected is on the outskirts of the eating area, but they might as well be on center stage. Her skin prickles under the weight of the publicâs stares.
Logically, she knows the curious civilians donât mean any harm. Itâs rare that Team 7 is out in the public eye for such an extended period of time. That doesnât stop the shinobi buried deep beneath her medic persona from sharpening her kunai warily. Sakura doesn't resent the instinct exactlyâthat's what keeps her aliveâbut she does try to shake it. The eyes on her aren't dangerous.
Just oppressive.
Itâs in pretending to look out across the crowdâand ignoring the alarming number of heads that whip away from her that she doesâthat she notices them.
A trio of girls sit at two tables away from them at a diagonal. Four older women share the table, but there's enough space between the two to make it clear that they're separate parties. And anyway, the women are laughing, with clenched eyes and wide smiles. The younger ones, though, they're tittering. The sound is sharper than the murmuring of the crowd around them, which is probably why they stood out to her in the first place.
In their mirth, they havenât noticed Sakuraâs attention. One of the girls has a blush dark enough to match the hair of the girl digging an elbow playfully into her side. She canât see the face of the final member of the trio, but her shoulders shake in obvious laughter under long, black hair. Suddenly the girlâs arms come up in an exaggerated stretch before dropping to her hips so she can make a show of twisting and stretching her back. Not bad for a civilian. Sakura would have almost believed her if not for how quickly she turned back to her friends after a less than sneaky peek at Team 7âs table.
Any amusement she might have held for the girlsâ antics slip away immediately. Clearly the trio isnât looking at Sakura, or they would have noticed her attention. The number of times theyâve all slid glances her direction is too high to be a coincidence, however, which only leaves one option.
The boys.
Now itâs abundantly clear what the brunette is being teased about. Itâs been a while since the Academy, but Sakura has sent her share of moonstruck looks a certain Uchihaâs way. She knows what it feels likeâwhat it looks likeâto laugh and tease over crushes. Her eyebrows narrow fiercely for all that she tries to keep her expression neutral. The only real question left is: which boy are they looking at?
Four years ago, the answer would have been Sasuke hands down. His sharp features and aloof personality are easily misread as the mysterious persona of at least fifty percent of the love interests in romance novels. Barely dodged war crimes have tamped down the general enthusiasm for Sasuke, though there is always the chance the girl thinks she has a thing for âbad boys.â
Sakura hopes not, for her sake. Sasukeâs particular brand of ârebel with a causeâ needs at least three years of serious training and an instruction manual the size of one of her medical textbooks to have any chance of walking away unscathed. Even then nightmares and traumatic events are pretty much a given.
Naruto laughs, loudly, and throws his head back enough to give a clear view of the syrup that drips down his chin. The brunetteâs expression softens, and Sakura can hear the lovesick sigh she heaves from twenty feet away. So Naruto is the object of her affection. The realization makes her stomach twist.
Thereâs a sharp crack, and Sakuraâs dango drops to the grass beneath them. She blinks, confused. The bottom half of the stick is still clenched tightly in her fist. It takes longer than it should to notice the splintered edge of the stick and piece together what happened.
âAre you alright?â Itâs Sasuke that asks this time.
âYeah, IâmâIâm fine.â Sakura bends down to grab her dango from the ground. She hadnât planned on eating it anyway, but the grass coating the dumplings means thatâs not an option for later anymore. âI just, ahââ
Before Sakura can come up with an excuse for her ill-timed use of super strength, the tittering behind them grows in volume enough to catch Sasukeâs attention this time. Sakuraâs eyes flit to the trio of girls automatically, and they are looking at her now. Great. Even the blushing brunette has joined in the action, so Sakura knows that the laughs are meant for her. She grinds her teeth together. Theyâre civilians. Sakura canât go around just laying civilians out because she feels like it.
âThatâs enough time in the sun,â Sasuke declares, sliding off of the table top. He shoots a viscous glare over his shoulder. Sakura shouldnât find so much satisfaction in how rapidly the giggles grind to a halt, but she does. The knots her intestines have tied themselves into loosen enough that she can take aim with a sharp smile of her own.
âGuysâŠ?â Naruto asks. He can tell that something is going on, but doesnât have enough information to piece the story together as Sasuke did. Blonde eyebrows furrow lightly as he glances from his teammates to the girlsâ table.
The brunette has the audacity to sigh again. Every muscle in Sakuraâs body tenses for a fight, and she doesnât even pause to think about how ridiculous her reaction is. Itâs not like she has any sort of claim over Naruto. Sasuke is the one who has been messily sharing finger food with him this whole afternoon. If anyone has any right to feel the sudden rage coursing through their body, itâs him. How dare that girl assume she has a chance when Naruto is clearly taken?
Sure enough, Sasukeâs expression has doubled in intensity. Disgust and possessiveness mix in equal measure on his face as his lip curls up and over his teeth. He probably doesnât even realize what an overprotective boyfriend he looks like, and Sakura can only watch smugly as the girls wilt under his glare. Serves them right.
âWeâre getting out of here,â Sasuke declares, firmly. He turns away from the trio before hefting Naruto off the table and over his shoulder in one fluid motion. Naruto squawks in surprise, understandably, but Sasukeâs malice is clearly not directed at him, so he allows himself to be carted away with only token protests. âLetâs go, Sakura.â
The urge to gloat is irresistible. Sakura tosses a taunting wink that the girls are too shell-shocked to react to before falling into her place at her boysâ backs. The rage and, okay, sheâll admit it, jealousy that bubbled up so unexpectedly earlier washes away in the face of her contentment. Maybe neither Sasuke or Naruto are hers in the romantic sense, but theyâre hers in all the other ways that matter.
Sakura will guard their backs for as long as they let her with a smile in her heart.
A Game of Puzzles (Making the Pieces Fit) Chapter 3
Summary: With the war over and Sasuke home again, Sakura is more hopeful for Team 7âs future than she has been in a long time. Sheâs quickly disappointed to find that nothing in the Village fits quite like it used toânot her old bedroom, not her clothes, and definitely not Team 7. Join Sakura as she scrambles to understand her place in this new team dynamic.
If she has a place there at all.
-OR-
It takes three dorks a painfully long time after moving in together to realize that they all belong together.
"Sakura-chaaaaaan!" a familiar voice echoes down the halls of the hospital.
The medics shadowing her do their best to stifle their giggles, or at least try to pass them off as a sudden bout of coughs, but their amusement is clear.
"That's all for now," Sakura declares, doing her best to ignore the knowing looks being passed back and forth like candy. The flush that rises to her cheeks is inescapable. "It looks like I'm needed in a last minute meeting."
No attempts are made to conceal their laughter now. Sakura graces them with a self-deprecating half-smile before departing from the group. Naruto's voice bounces off the walls again, and Sakura rolls her eyes fondlyâheels clacking rapidly against tile floors as she picks up her pace. He's lucky she just wrapped up her examination.
"What kind of idiot yells in a hospital?" she shouts, fully aware of the hypocrisy of the statement. Answering Naruto any other way just feels lackluster. And anyway, this is her domain. Surely she can bend the rules on special occasions.
"Sakura!" He sounds even closer now. Sure enough, he rounds the corner a second later.
Any pretense of annoyance pops and fizzles out like a dispersed clone the moment Sakura lays eyes on him. A rosy tint covers all Naruto's exposed skinâa testament to the long hours spent away from them under the powerful summer sun. He's home. Excitement drives her forward, faster than she would normally condone for a place of healing.
Seeing her coming, Naruto stops his approach and braces himself instead. Open arms beckon and spur her forward, and Sakura doesn't try to resist their call. Hospital walls blur around her as she sprints the last twenty feet separating them, flinging herself into his waiting arms with approximately none of the decorum the Head of Hospital should possess.
Naruto grunts on impact but doesn't buckle. Instead he transfers her momentum into centripetal force, spinning her 'round and 'round in his arms like a couple of lovestruck teens. Sakura buries her face in his neck, allowing herself to breath him in and bask in the solid feel of him under her arms. Alive and unharmed. Maybe she deserves a free pass on this one.
All good things must eventually end, and this moment is no exception. Naruto slows them down, allowing Sakura's feet to float closer to the ground on every turn. Reality catches up to them when her heels click down onto the bleached tiles. Murmurs of the random nurse or medic in the hall reach her ears, and Sakura takes a moment to brush the imaginary lint off her lab coat. Now that she remembers people other than Naruto exist, Sakura's thankful they didn't knock anyone over with their antics.
The smug eyes following her promise not to let her forget this. Oh well.
Sakura clears her throat self-consciously and playfully slugs Naruto on the remaining portion of his arm. That's normal, right? "When did you get in? Konohamaru was supposed to let me know when you reached the gates."
"Ahhh, I might have convinced him to 'forget' to do that." At her raised eyebrow, he ducks his head and scratches the back of his head. "Wanted to surprise you."
Cute.
"It was a nice surprise."
Naruto's smile widens. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Sakura confirms, "But I didn't have time to clear my schedule. I have one meeting I can't miss and a couple more patients to see before I can leave."
"You were going to cut out early for me?" he asks incredulously, "Usually it takes the act of a God to pry you out of here."
"Does not," she counters without heat. Sakura's willing to bet Naruto turns into just as much of a workaholic once he's wearing the hat. There's so much that needs to get done to keep Konoha moving forward. Knowing her work/life balance sucks and actually taking a step back are two entirely separate things. "Anyway, I'm still cutting out early. Just not as early as I wanted to." Speaking ofâ
Sakura's eyes dart to the clock close to the nurse's station before wincing. Six minutes is barely enough time to cross six floors before the meeting covering the funding for clinical trials the coming quarter starts. Normally this would be Administrative Sakura's domain, but her clone is swamped reviewing construction plans for the Hospital addition. Clinical trials for ninja products, like safer soldier pills, also happen to be something she's passionate about. If she can't design the experiments, she at least wants to ensure they're properly funded.
"Gotta run?" Naruto guesses when Sakura turns to him.
"Yep," she says, already backing away, "but I'll see you at home? Three hours tops."
"I'll hold you to that!" Naruto threatens with a smile.
By some miracle Sakura hasn't tripped over anything or anyone as she walks backwards, keeping a waving Naruto in her sights for as long as she can manage. It's so good to see him again. Still, Sakura knows she's pushing her luck. Waving goodbye to her teammate one last time, Sakura turns around to begin her race to the conference room in earnest.
It's not until Sakura's three floors down that she remembers Sasuke. Shit. He definitely deserves a heads up that Naruto is back in town. Now, how can she get the message to him without leaving the hospital...?
There's a nurses' station thirty feet up this hallway, but Sakura dismisses the idea as quickly as it occurs. Adding a personal chore to the nurses' already stacked plates would be incredibly rudeâand unprofessional to boot.
The countdown in her head reminds her she has less than four minutes to solve this issue and get to her meeting before it starts. Times like this, Sakura wishes she had picked up a second summon. Lady Katsuya is the perfect compliment to her medical techniques, but slugs are pretty much incapable of delivering messages.
Three minutes. Crap.
Sakura makes for the emergency staircase, checking her chakra levels as she goes. About 40% left, and if she plans on leaving earlyâSakura runs through calculations double time. She can spare 10% for a second clone.
She shucks her bright red heels and leans over the railing to make sure she's not about to land on anyone. The stairwell looks clear. Just in case, Sakura tosses a warning "heads up!" over the metal barrier before vaulting it herself. Cushioning her landing with chakra saves her joints, but the cement pays the price. Her hastily reapplied heel makes this discovery, catching in the newly formed crack and nearly sending her sprawling. Great. She'll have to put in a requisition to have that fixed.
It's a necessary sacrifice. Sakura wraps up the hand signs for her messenger clone just as the conference room door comes into view. Messenger Sakura pops into existence, throws up a lazy âvictoryâ sign, and does an abrupt 360 towards their apartment. Hopefully no one tries to stop her on the wayâher clone won't have the chakra to help with any emergency situations.
No time to worry about it.
Running a hand through her hair, Sakura squares her shoulders and strides into the conference room. Every head swivels towards her. The absolute attention she now commands still makes her uneasy, but she manages to keep her head high as she crosses the room.
Sakura slides into her seat as the synchronized hospital clocks chime to announce the top of the hour.
Just in time.
"Thank you for joining, everyone," she says, laying her arms on the table. "As you all know, our goal today is to allocate funding to the six applicants for the upcoming quarter. Natsuo has summarized the information for the proposed clinical trials on the handouts in front of you, so if you'll direct your attention to the first pageâŠ"
A Game of Puzzles (Making the Pieces Fit) Chapter 2
Summary: With the war over and Sasuke home again, Sakura is more hopeful for Team 7âs future than she has been in a long time. Sheâs quickly disappointed to find that nothing in the Village fits quite like it used toânot her old bedroom, not her clothes, and definitely not Team 7. Join Sakura as she scrambles to understand her place in this new team dynamic.
If she has a place there at all.
-OR-
It takes three dorks a painfully long time after moving in together to realize that they all belong together.
It takes six months for Sasukeâs trial to finally be settled.
Theyâve been barred from attending the trial themselvesâfor apparently being too disruptive to the court processâso Naruto and Sakura are waiting at the base of the court steps when Sasuke comes blinking out into sunlight for the first time since he was locked away. He pauses, giving his eyes time to adjust, and thatâs long enough for his team to decide that no handcuffs is good news. They barrel into him, crushing him into a hug on either side.
Sasuke scoffs like he canât believe how ridiculous they are, but he doesnât pull away.
âIâm on probation for a year,â he tells them quietly. Sakura feels the words rumble through his chest, and his heartbeat is tapping a steady pace against her cheek. Sasuke is home, heâs actually in her arms, and the realization brings a rush of relief that unlocks something deep in her soul. The next breath she sucks in expands her ribcage farther than she thought was possible, but so does the one after that, and Sakura has to wonder if sheâs been holding her breath since the moment Sasuke left her on that cold stone bench years ago. If this is what it feels like to be whole.
Love. It has to be. She still loves him.
âWhat does that mean, exactly?â Naruto asks, voice wet.
Sheâs always known that Naruto cared for Sasuke just as much as she does, but hearing the tears in his voice cause them to well up in her eyes. He deserves this moment, he really does. After years of searching, chasing, and coming up empty, Naruto finally has something to show for his herculean efforts. They had him, for one tantalizing moment after the war. But the remnants of their arms had barely scabbed over before Sasuke was ripped out of their grasp for six months in captivity that Sakura honestly doesnât want to contemplate. It felt like such a hollow victory at the time, wondering if that moment was the only one they would ever have, but now they have another.
They just have to trust that this is a beginning this time.
âIâm essentially on house arrest for three months,â Sasuke says eventually. âI canât leave the village for another six. If, after that, I havenât killed anyone or been caught undermining any of the great nations, I can start going on missions again.â
Sakura winces. It sounds lenient, but itâs not uncommon for a shinobi to be in a different village each week. Being stuck in the village for nine months will start to grate. Sasuke is going to be miserable. Still, the memories of Five Great Nations clamoring for Sasukeâs head on a stake are too close for comfort. It could have been so much worse.
âAnd in an effort to re-socialize me,â Sasuke adds sourly, preventing Sakuraâs mind from wandering down the thorny path of âwhat-ifsâ sheâs been known to get lost on, âI have to get a roommate.â
At this, Sakura finally pulls away far enough to be able to look Sasuke in the eyes. Theyâre not the same shade of charcoal that she remembers, and she hates to think that itâs been long enough for her memory to warp.
A Game of Puzzles (Making the Pieces Fit) Chapter 1
Summary:Â With the war over and Sasuke home again, Sakura is more hopeful for Team 7's future than she has been in a long time. She's quickly disappointed to find that nothing in the Village fits quite like it used toânot her old bedroom, not her clothes, and definitely not Team 7. Join Sakura as she scrambles to understand her place in this new team dynamic.
If she has a place there at all.
-OR-
It takes three dorks a painfully long time after moving in together to realize that they all belong together.
Sakura lasts all of one week in her pretty pastel childhood room after the shinobi forces return.
Itâs not that she doesnât love her parents. She does. When she walked in her front door for the first time in months to find them reading books side-by-side in the living room, as if nothing at all had happened, Sakura burst into tears. Wrapped in their arms, listening to the meaningless babble pressed comfortingly into her scalp, she couldnât help but sob harder.
Thankful.
Somehow two civilians survived two invasions and a war when so many of her friendsâIno, oh god, Inoâare coming home to empty spaces.
Lucky. Sheâs so lucky.
The bento box set aside for her in the fridge has a smiley face drawn on the outside, and Sakura smiles right back when she sees it. Thereâs a note scrawled on the inside, tooâor so she was informed. Sakura wolfed the food down in three minutes flatâa personal bestâbetween surgeries and missed it entirely. Her mom says she understands. Her dad does, too. They pinch her cheeks or ruffle her hair and tell her that theyâre so proud of their talented daughter. Sakura has made a career of more than medicine, though, and their crestfallen expressionsâhowever briefâhurt.
âYou didnât let me know when you got home last night,â her mother says over tea in the morning.
Sakura sips her tea slowly, drawing energy from the warmth as much as the caffeine. Itâs only when Mebukiâs pointed gaze remains fixed on her that Sakura processes her motherâs words. Still, thereâs quite a bit of tea in her mouth, so she settles for pointing at herself in a âwho, me?â gesture. Channeling all the confusion into the movement is difficult, but she gives it her best shot.
âI know itâs not like you have a curfew or anything,â Mebuki begins again. âItâs just thatââher lower lip wobbles and so does her voiceâ âwell, I sleep better when I know you got home.â
Sakura opens her mouth to respond and shuts it again. This is new territory for them. As a member of the shinobi forces, Sakura has been considered an adult since the moment she donned her headband. She could have moved out then, if she wanted, but she didnât. All pretenses of curfews have definitely been gone at least that long, though. Sheâs had later nightsâallnighters, too!âthat had passed without comment, so sheâs not sure where this is coming from.
âI didnât get home until three last night, and I didnât want to wake you up,â Sakura speaks slowly, checking each word individually before it leaves her mouth. The unshed tears in her motherâs eyes hasten her to add, âI can leave a note, if that helps?â
It doesnât.
Mebuki gasps, as if this news is worse than she was expecting. âYou walked home alone at three in the morning?â
âMom.â Sakura sets down her cup to grab one of her motherâs hands in her own. âMom, Iâve run home from Rice Country in the dead of night. Whatâs going on?â
âOh, right. Youâre right.â Her mother dabs her eyes with a knuckle and chuckles weakly. âMom moment, what can I say?â
Sakura doesnât know what to say eitherânot to this-this-whatever this is. She squeezes her momâs hand, trying to convey the complicated knot of Iâm not a little girl and I love you and Please donât look at me like that without words. Sheâs not sure it works. Her mom squeezes her hand back, though, and Sakura feels a little better.
âWell,â Mebuki says it like a beginning, like there was something that was supposed to go next, but fails to elaborate. Beseeching eyes beg Sakura to pick up where she left off, but Sakura doesnât even know where this conversation is going. Summoning the words her mother meant to go next is nigh impossible. She shrugs helplessly only to kick herself when her momâs shoulders sag in defeat. That remorse doubles when Mebuki squeezes her hand once more before pulling away and standing. Their kitchen is small, but the scant feet between the table and the sink might as well be a gaping, cavernous trench.
Itâs too big to have appeared overnight, but Sakura canât put a finger on when the crack started spreading. After Sasuke left? When Tsunade took her as an apprentice? After the war? Had her mother known it was there the whole time, or, like Sakura, did Mebuki look at her daughter across the table one day only to find her on the other side of an insurmountable gap instead?
She needs to fix this.
What Sakura really wants is to finish her tea and read the text she picked up studying the consequences of optic swelling to signal transmission carried out by the optic nerve. After this morning, after the gap, that feels like a selfish use of her free time. So Sakura takes one last sip of tea to steel herself before standing.
âI donât have training until ten,â she offers tentatively, joining her mother at the sink. Mebukiâs shoulders are shaking, and Sakura very determinedly does not make eye contact. âWe could goââ âget teaâ are the words she meant to go next, but the half-full mug she just placed next to her motherâs full mug in the sink mocks herâ âshopping?â
Even with tear tracks on her face, Mebukiâs answering smile is dazzling. The one on her face feels fake in comparison, but she keeps it in place anyway. Â Taking a morning to go shopping with her mom is such a small ask in the scheme of things.
She has to remind herself at least three times as they get ready to leave.
Winter is nipping at Fallâs heels now, and itâs apparent the moment they step out of the house. Piles of leaves lay in damp heaps where the wind left them, having long since lost their crunch. Mebuki shivers in the crisp air. Acting on half-forgotten memories, Sakura wiggles her arm through her momâs and lays her head on her shoulder. Theyâre the same height now, so itâs not quite the same as it used to be, but her mom looks down at her with a pleased expression and rests her cheekbone on Sakuraâs bent head.
âYouâre so warm!â she exclaims, pulling her daughter closer.
Simple chakra circulation. Itâs a trick she learned as a geninâquicker than both Naruto and Sasuke, of course. Even then her chakra control had been uncontested. The memory of the boysâ outrage and Kakashiâs fond smile entices a real grin onto her face. She raises her head to share the story with her mom, but draws short at the redness of her motherâs eyesâthe puffiness of her cheeks.
Suddenly sharing stories of her life as a ninja doesnât sound like such a great plan.
Her mother is still looking at her expectantly, though, so Sakura gestures to the dusty pink coat sheâd donned on the way out. âItâs this coatâyou have great taste.â
Mebuki beams, and Sakura knows she made the right choice.
Instead of bolstering her mood, the realization dampens it further.
Her mother pulls her down familiar streetsâpredictable, so predictableâtowards her favorite stops. Basics, statement pieces, and then accessories. Sakura knows that theyâre going to stop at Mr. Takahashiâs first, who boasts a broad range of durable basic wardrobe pieces, so sheâs surprised when her mom pulls her into a bright yellow storefront instead.
âI love the new colors!â Mebuki calls out to the store owner folding shirts towards the back. Mr. Takahashi turns around, and Sakura misses her next step. Itâs only her grip on her motherâs arm that keeps her upright.
âI decided to make the most of my fresh start,â Mr. Takahashi says, eyes crinkling kindly. âAnd is this young Sakura? Youâve grown so much since the last time I saw you!â
They both look at her, expecting her to respond, but her throat feels tightâburned with woodsmoke, shattered glass under her feetâand no words come.
âSheâs been away for months,â her mom fills in for her after a pause, patting Sakuraâs shoulder in a way thatâs probably supposed to be comforting. âAwayâ is a painfully bland way to explain that her daughterâs been on the frontlines for the majority of the year, but Sakura doesnât protest. âShe has the morning off, though, so weâre squeezing in some girl time.â
âThis coat is probably the most fashionable thing in my wardrobe right now,â Sakura manages. Itâs probably even true. The shinobi standard slacks, shirts, and vests are the only thing sheâs worn with any regularity for months, and she came back to find that they were the only thing that fit, too. At seventeen, itâs probably her last growth spurt.
âIs that so?â Mr. Takahashiâs eyes gleam, smelling the blood in the water, and he turns to set down the folded shirt still in his hands. Mebuki, a merchant herself, doesnât miss the look and rolls her eyes fondly at her daughter before the store owner faces them again. âIf you ladies will follow me, our newest stock is actually just over hereââ
Soon enough, Sakuraâs arms are weighed down with a stack of clothes to try on. Itâs tall enough to partially occlude her sight, and her mother laughs as she helps guide her to the dressing room.
âMaybe we went a bit overboard,â she admits as she pulls aside the curtain for Sakura to step through. Her tone is light, but thereâs a tightness to her expression that had been absent as they shopped.
âThis? Overboard?â Sakura shakes her head with mock disappointment as best she can from behind her mountain of loot, âYouâre losing your touch. I suppose it had to happen eventually, butââshe sighsâ âso sad to happen so young, ya know?â
âImp,â Mebuki chides, swatting her daughterâs hip playfully. The curtain swings shut between them, and she calls out, âCome out and show me your favorites.â
The clothes feel heavier in her arms with the curtain closed, and Sakura drops the pile unceremoniously onto the lone bench in the stall. Overboard was right. She would need another closet to house these clothesâand these are just civilian clothes!
Theyâre cute, though, she reminds herself as she pulls on a pair of pants. Mebuki really does have great taste. She has a talent for picking clothes for others that awed even Ino when they were kids. Today is no exception. Everything on the bench has been hand selected for Sakuraâs own sense of style and rather exotic coloring.
Even still, shirts that looked cute on the hanger fall short of her expectations when she puts them on. The number of clothes that Sakura shrugs off to place in the âdiscardâ pile grows while her âkeepâ pile remains determinedly empty.
Sheâs fidgeting with the strap of a light blue dress, trying to figure out what it is thatâs throwing her off. Huffing, Sakura lets her hands fall and takes a step back to try and get the whole effect in the mirror. The dress manages to compliment her eyes without clashing with her hair. Floaty material brushes the skin above her knees, her favorite length, and somehow gives her enough room to move while being tight enough to highlight her curves. The frown on her face remains, though, and it takes an extra second for it to click.
The dress fits, but Sakura doesnât. Not anymore.
Title: Chidorillator
Summary: A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer: I donât own Naruto.
Rating: T
Warning(s): Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
âShow me what you can do,â Sasuke demanded the moment the duoâs feet hit the clearing.
Sakura eyed him suspiciously. In their short sprint to the impromptu training grounds, she could have sworn his breathing was much sharper than it needed to be. His eyes would also tighten at random intervals--miniscule enough that most would miss it and the others who did notice would just think he was annoyed. The few years sheâd been his teammate had not been wasted, however, and Sakura knew that this was not his annoyed neutral expression. It was almost as if he was in painâŠ
When Sasuke's breath hitched as he crossed his arms over his chest, Sakuraâs eyes narrowed further. He was in pain! That idiot, why hadnât he told her? He had to know she would heal him no matter what, since she had spent hours put his body back together just days ag--oh.
Oh.
She had healed him just days ago--completely, in fact. The only thing that should be troubling him now was exhaustion, for the most part. Since then, Sakura had it on good authority that the last Uchiha had remained mostly in his âtent.â While it was possible that Naruto and Sasuke had got into some sort of squabble since the end of the war, she distinctly remembered someone else getting physical with her old teammate.
Her.
When she poked him hard enough to fracture his ribcage.
And then walked away without so much as offering to heal it.
The chances of him actually asking another medic were laughably small, which meant he was still probably dealing with the damage sheâd dealt him. Sakura huffed, feeling somewhere between exasperated and guilty, which caused Sasuke to raise one questioning eyebrow in her direction. Smothering another sigh, she began to walk purposefully towards him. His hand twitched as she approached, as if looking for Kusanagi, but settled for shifting just enough that his shoulder would take the brunt of an attack.
Sakura slowed down, confused by his reaction. Sasuke had been challenging her to show him her chidori, not to spar with him. That had been clear. So did he really think Sakura would attack him now? Without any sort of provocation?
Days ago--or had it been just yesterday? Time seemed to be playing tricks on her--when she felt like she could spit fire she was so angry with him, Sasukeâs wariness would have been satisfying. The vindictive portion or her would have wanted to see Sasuke acknowledge her as a potential threat.
But things had changed--Sasuke being one of them.
He was her teammate again. Or, at least, he was considering it--their relationship. Sakura didnât know what made Sasuke turn on Konoha with such hatred, and until this morning, Naruto had been the only one he had treated with anything but barely-repressed-malice. It was possible that that wouldnât change anytime soon, but then again, even as a genin, Sasukeâs relationship with the majority of Konoha could be best described as standoffish. His team had eventually come to be the exception to his cold behavior. Now Sasuke was offering to train her and looking out for her well-being? That was her teammate.
Sakuraâs stomach churned, and, despite the fact that she couldnât remember the last time she had eaten something other than a ration, she knew hunger wasnât the cause. A teammate should never look at her with that sort of wariness.
Holding her hands up as if she was surrendering, Sakura let her healing chakra surround her palms. Somewhat timidly, she said, âI think it might be better if I give you another demonstration of my healing abilities, first.â
With her intentions clear, Sasuke looked much less reluctant to let her in his personal space. He even turned to face her fully so that she had full access to his ribcage.
Unfortunately, Sasuke had neglected to unzip his shirt all the way, thus leaving Sakura with the conundrum of how she was best to address his rib. His current style was to leave his shirt only partially zipped up, which meant it was conceivable that she could slip her hand through the opening. But would that obstruct her healing? It wasnât like Sasuke to wear skin tight things, so it might be possibleâŠ
Youâre a professional. Act like it. Sakura mentally shook herself. This was ridiculous. She had to stop fawning over him. If Sasuke was any other person, what would you do? The answer came to her immediately, and Sakura squared her shoulders before moving forward purposefully.
âIâm going to unzip your shirt all the way so I have unhindered access to your rib,â Sakura told him. She refused to meet his eyes, sure her cheeks would erupt into flames if she did. Her voice hadnât wavered though! That was a success at least.
At first she had been concerned that the zipper was going to get stuck as she tried to undo it--or something equally mortifying. Any such concerns disappeared when Sakura caught a glimpse of a purple as dark as Sasukeâs chakra within the confines of the fabric. She frowned and opened his shirt as quickly efficiently as possible before she pushed the fabric aside.
Searching for the break with chakra wasnât necessary. A handsâ width below Sasukeâs right nipple rested a bruise the size of Sakuraâs palm. The center was a solid dark purple, but the edges were mottled with both blue and the dark purple. There wasnât a hint of healing green--not that she had really expected there to be. The green of a bruise generally didnât set in until just before a week had had past from the initial injury. Still, it looked painful.
Was painful, Sakura corrected herself. Sasuke had inhaled sharply as Sakura brushed her hand over the injury. Again, the breath was only minutely different--just a titch quicker and out of sync with his normal breathing rhythm. Sakura had been healing hardened warriors enough to know when something hurt, though. And she had known Sasuke even longer than that.
Sakura looked up to find Sasuke looking at her, an apology on her lips. His eyebrows were pinched together, but he remained still. Allowing her to cause him discomfort. Trusting that she was trying to help him. Trusting her.
âThis will only hurt for a second,â she assured him.
Sure enough, when Sakura pressed two fingers against the fracture, Sasuke flinched. But, as she had promised, the soothing numbness of her healing chakra soon encompassed the area. Sakura was free to speed up the production of the soft callus and coax it to produce collagen rapidly without fear of causing him more pain.
Bone repair was tedious work; there was a reason she had assigned it as a punishment earlier. The body rarely had issue mending bones itself, but it took both time and guidance. So, it was now Sakuraâs job to encourage the body to work exponentially faster than it would ever do in the first place without allowing it do so sloppily. In this instance, Sakura was both an energy source and a cast.
It was, to borrow a phrase from Shikamaru, troublesome.
âThat should do it,â she commented after five minutes of concentration. Sweat had begun to bead at her hair line, and Sakura ran her hand through her hair to disguise the fact that she was swiping it away. While bone repair was hard work, healing a fracture--not even a full break!--probably shouldnât have caused her to break a sweat. She didnât want Sasuke to become overly concerned all call off their training.
Luckily, Sasuke had been zipping his shirt back up and hadnât given her movement a second thought.
âRight,â Sasuke drew a deep breath, then exhaled. Seemingly pleased with the results, he continued, Â âTell me why you need the chidori.â
And so Sakura did. She told Sasuke of the current death toll and how many more they were expected to lose. She told him how draining their current methods were and why they were no longer working. She told him how they had lost the few defibrillators theyâd brought in the chaos of the war and how much longer replacements would take to arrive.
Throughout the whole explanation, Sasuke had been watching her solemnly. Until the last bit of her explanation, that is.
âYouâre risking death by chakra depletion for a problem whose solution is only six days away?â His voice was low--some might even call it dismissive--but Sakura caught the hint of a growl.
âOf course!â Sakura exclaimed, âWere you listening to how many people we could lose in those six days?â Throwing her hands up in the air exasperatedly, Sakura began to pace. âAnd even if we medics do, by some miracle, stave off these impending deaths, weâll be so exhausted that weâll start losing patients to stupid mistakes!â
This was a problem Sakura had spent countless hours agonizing over, and everything she had thought spilled from her mouth.âDo you know, by chance, the consequences of a poorly set bone?â
Since Sakura had just healed one of Sasukeâs bones, the example might drive the point home better than any of her other examples.
âYou werenât in much danger since you only fractured one bone,â she told him, pointing at aforementioned bone. âBut what if youâd broken a whole mess of bones at once? Like, oh, I donât know, say you Naruto had to beat the ever living crap out of one another before you could have a heart to heart. Because testosterone or some shit.â
Both Sasukeâs eyebrows rose at that one, but he remained silent, allowing Sakura to continue.
âSay I, and every other medic, was too exhausted to properly heal your bones all the way. Bones contain fat tissue, and normally it isnât a big deal if some leaks into the bloodstream. Sometimes, though, these traveling fat macroglobules--thatâs called fat embolism, by the way--will become lodged somewhere. So now you have ischemia and and inflammation of that area, with other side effects like inflammatory mediators, vasoactive amines, and platelet aggregation.â
Although Sasuke was better at hiding it than Naruto, Sakura could tell his eyes had glazed over. She stopped her pacing, and looked down at the ground to collect her thoughts with her hands propped on her hips. How to best explain this? She could spout survival rates or other stats until she was blue in the face, but--consequences. Sasuke understood consequences.
âYou develop fat embolism syndrome,â Sakura said finally. She held up three fingers before continuing, âThis can lead to respiratory insufficiencyâ--she lowered her pointer finger-- âmultiorgan failureâ--she lowered her middle finger-- âand brain dysfunctionâ--she lowered her ring finger. âOne misstep, three big issues down the road.â
Barely perceptible eye widening from Sasuke. There. Now he was starting to understand. Sakura paused to allow time for that all to really sink in. When Sasukeâs perpetual scowl deepened to proportionately reflect the severity of the situation, she threw her hands up into the air.
âSee? And thatâs only one mistake that could cause widespread issues!â Sakura resumed her pacing. âDonât even get me started on sepsis. All that needs to happen is for an infection to trigger too strong of an immune response, and then--â
âSakura, stop. I understand the implications,â Sasuke interrupted. Sakura paused, mid hand-flailing and looked over at him. âI understand, even if I donât like it.â
There was a pause.
âBut I should rephrase, what, exactly, do you need from the chidori to help these patients?â
--x--
After explaining that Sakura needed the chidori to function as a sort of âfieldâ defibrillator because her patients had been overstimulated by foreign chakra sources, Sasuke had agreed that this was a need the chidori might be able to fill. He then demanded to see how far Sakura had come in her attempts to master it.
So, there Sakura was, taking the stance she had already come to hate in the short amount of time she had spent with it. Her skin was still red and raw from her last attempts at the chidori, but that was only because the skin itself was fresh. Her burns didnât have the distinctive charring of a third degree burn. Traipsing around in a field hospital with an open, oozing would was just asking for trouble.
Of course, the moment Sakura forced her chakra to fluctuate beyond her control, her flesh was put on the line once again. Thus far her partial-chidori had failed to literally blow up her face. She decided to take that as a good sign.
Sasuke, however, was frowning.
âOkay, Iâve seen enough. Stop, Sakura,â he ordered.
Surprised, Sakura called her chakra back into her body. It was happy enough to comply, having hated to be forced to fluctuate in the first place. Kakashi had never criticized how she molded her chakra. Actually, Sakura thought that was the only part of this whole technique that she had down. And that had been the fastest sheâd ever convinced her chakra to wave around erratically!
Just as Sakura had been starting to deflate, thinking of how far she was from mastering the chidori if she was even bad at the part she thought she was good at, Sasuke spoke again.
âYour form is perfect, and your chakra is in the right shape,â he said. Some of the despair that had been threatening to overtake Sakura faded. âBy all rights, you should be wielding lightning right now.â
By all rights? Meaning she was doing everything right but still failing? Sakura cocked her head, but didnât voice her question. Sasuke, well, he wasnât frowning exactly. But his face was rather intense--and pointed. He stared at her wrist as if getting a look inside it would yield the answers they needed. If it was that easy, Sakura would have split the appendage open days ago herself.
Sasuke finally raised his gaze from her wrist to her eyes. âHow are you attempting to make the final transition from chakra to lightning?â
âKakashi-sensei described it as a series of interconnected explosive tags,â Sakura began, struggling to remember their old mentorâs exact wording. He had used that Amakagure kunoichiâs--Konan?--technique as an example. âOnce you set one tag off, the rest will follow. Iâve been trying to overload one strand of chakra with power until it snaps into form. I thought if I could get one strand to change form, the rest would follow.
Sasukeâs eyes widened marginally at her explanation--the equivalent of a low whistle.
âThe burns on your wrist suddenly make sense,â he commented dryly, âThat description fits a fire technique much more than a lightning technique.â
Sakura blinked once. Then again. âIâve been doing this all wrong the whole time?â
âNot completely wrong,â Sasuke corrected, âYou were just misinterpreting the final step of the instructions.â
Was that--was that meant to be comforting? Was Sasuke comforting her? There was no actual need for Sasuke to inform her that not everything she had been working on was wrong. Then when he said âyou were justâ? Just was a world practically invented to take the sting off of harsh words. And--
Aaand she was over-analyzing the hell out of this. Again.
âOkay,â Sakura nodded, forcing herself to focus on Sasukeâs conclusion and not the way he had delivered it. âHow would you interpret the final step?â
âItâs an impulse,â Sasuke said almost immediately, âYou might be spending too much time playing with the chakraâs form. It should be your chakra, and then it should be lightning. You should strike as fast as lightning would.â
Sakura immediately found an issue with this new instruction. Raising her pointer finger, she hastened to interject, âIâm not trying to strike anyone, Sasuke. I need a more controlled form of the chidori--not the version you would learn as an attack.â
The look Sasuke gave her was so familiar she almost had to turn around and see if Naruto was standing behind her.
âI wasnât exactly suggested that you start electrocuting patients,â Sasuke said. He didnât roll his eyes, but he might as well have. âLightning isnât controlled, and thatâs what youâre struggling with creating in the first place. Once you do that, attempts to modify it should be met with much more success.â
Alright. Fair enough.
âShow me,â Sakura demanded. Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her tone, so she added, âKakashiâs transition from chakra to lightning was never quick, but he might have exaggerating the transition time so that I could see how his chakra formed.â Which was why she wanted Sasuke to teach her in the first place. âCould you show me how itâs supposed to look?â
With the barest of nods, Sasuke assumed the stance Sakura had been in only moments before. Purple chakra surrounded his arm. It didnât take the tight sphere-like shape that Sakuraâs did when she summoned hers. Instead it seemed rough at the edges--naturally hazy. Not that she had time to study it, really. Sasukeâs chakra was there, pulsing around his hand, and then there was blue lightning. Crackling and arcing wildly--so much so that Sakura had to take a hasty step back to avoid getting shocked.
Then it was gone. Sasuke straightened up, met her eyes, and tilted his head ever so slightly. Got it?
Sakura shook her head. She was close to understand something important; she knew it. In the back of her head there was this nagging feeling of--of something. There was a Susanoo-sized revelation lurking somewhere in her brain, but she just couldnât catch it.
âAgain, please.â
As Sasuke widened his step, Sakura crept as close as she dared. There was no dojutsu that she could count on to detect whatever miniscule change it was that she was missing. Razor sharp focus and determination would have to carry her forward. So she gritted her teeth and watched, not even daring to blink as the purple energy broke Sasukeâs skin once more. This time she didnât spend any time analyzing the shape--not when she knew the transformation was so close behind.
Almost immediately, Sasukeâs chakra snapped into electricity. Not all at once, though. That was what it had looked like at first, but now that she knew what to focus on, Sakura could see the change occurred almost like a wave stemming from the base of his hand. Like an impulse.
âOh!â Sakura stood up so quickly she got dizzy, and she had to throw her arms out for balance. Sasuke was suddenly right there, arms hovering away from his body like he was ready to catch her at a momentâs notice. Nope. She couldnât think about that. Couldnât get hung up on the fact that Sasuke was ready to wrap her up in his firm, strong arm--nope! Sakura had to try this out before she got distracted.
âIâm fine, Iâm fine,â she said as she stepped out of his reach and waved him off. âI think Iâve got it, watch!â
This time when Sakura called her chakra to her arm, she didnât drain herself trying to tease out all the individual strands before attempting to make the final jump to the lightning state. Sasuke had spent next to no time molding his chakra for the technique. The chakra shape didnât make the lightning, the lightning made the chakra shape. She had switched it up! Kakashi might have been trying to make the process easier for her to follow, but he had really just gotten her twisted around.
Not nice, Sakura scolded herself mentally, he taught you the basics when Sasuke wouldnât. Now you just need to apply what youâve learned from the both of them.
Once Sakura had loosened the reins on her chakra just enough for it to lose its defined edge, she closed her eyes and focused deep within herself. Sasuke had said the chidori was like an impulse. What if it was also like an electrical impulse from a nerve?
Deep in her meditative state, Sakura focused on the nerve that ran parallel to the chakra channels in her arm. She wasnât sure how to create an action potential with her chakra like nerves used to transmit impulses, but she didnât have to. While it was true she had only ever repaired nerves so far, with enough focus, she was certain she could use the next impulse to trigger the transformation.
No one could ever say that she lacked focus.
There! Sakuraâs eyes flashed open as she forced the impulse to leak into her chakra pathway. Observing the change in her own chakra was infinitely easier. From this vantage, Sakura could see the moment her own green chakra mixed with the familiar blue lightning that Sasuke often wielded. As her chakra changed color it also changed shape, frizzing out with the electrical energy enough to look like the dendrite Sakura was modeling her technique after.
For one instant, for one wonderful instant, Sakura held the power of a storm in one hand. Wanting to share this moment, she looked up from her newfound power, searching for Sasukeâs eyes.
She never found them, though. One second Sakura was marveling at the vivid blue that marked her success and the next she was admiring the pale blue of the sky. The color change was slight enough she almost didnât register what had happened. A familiar pain in her ass and back soon filled her in, though.
Sasuke was there as she painfully pushed herself up, offering a hand. She took it, and the world swirled as she was pulled onto her feet again.
âIâm fine,â Sakura insisted before Sasuke could say anything. It would be more convincing if it didnât come out as a wheeze. âReally, Sasuke, Iâm so close! It was lightning! My chakra was lightning and it was in my hand and I am so fucking close.â She was pacing again; she didnât know when she started pacing again. âDid you see anything? Do you know what I did wrong?â
There was silence for a moment. Sasuke seemed to be considering her--weighing the odds of her actually being okay against the odds of her stopping even if she wasnât. After a minute, he closed his eyes and sighed. His shoulders actually drooped with the motion. When he opened them again, he said,âI said lightning wasnât controlled. I never said you shouldnât try to control it once itâs formed.â
The advice was so nearly contradictory, Sakuraâs head hurt a little trying to follow the logic. Sensing this, Sasuke waited until Sakura nodded to show that she understood.
âNow try it again.â
Even though Sakura had just pulled herself up off the ground from yet another failed chidori attempt, her lips pulled up into a smile that was more teeth than anything else. This was exactly why she had asked Sasuke to train her. Tired as she was, something like excitement coursed through her as she dropped into her stance.
With Sasukeâs help, she was going to figure this damned thing out.
--x--
âDo you really need the full power of the chidori?â Sasuke asked after Sakura had been shocked off her feet a third time.
The question didnât reach her immediately through the hazy fog that enveloped her thoughts. Her teeth ached in her jaw from clenching so hard, and when she rolled over to get up, something thicker than spit dribbled out of her mouth.
Blood. Great. She must have bitten her tongue pretty good, then. The blood itself didnât concern her, but the strength behind the shock that caused it did, a little. Was everything still wired correctly? Only one way to tell.
Moving slowly, both because everything hurt and because she wanted to make sure her appendages were connected to their appropriate nerves, Sakura pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her arms were shaky. Actually, her everything was shaky, so she pulled her legs in so she could sit cross-legged. Good on two fronts: she knew her legs both worked, and now she felt more stable sitting up.
âHn.â Sasuke reached out and gently grabbed her left hand, using it to slowly rotate her arm so he could observe the extent of her injuries. Sakura jumped slightly at his touch; she had been so focused on getting upright that she hadnât noticed that Sasuke had crouched down to her level.
The urge to swat him away--to tell him she was fine and stand up--was strong. The biggest reason sheâd asked Sasuke to teach her was that she thought he wouldnât baby her! Which he hadnât been until now. For Kamiâs sake, she was the medic here--she would know if her arm was in serious danger. It didnât hurt at all, but Sasuke was sure scowling heavily at something. Putting her anger aside for the moment, Sakura followed his gaze to see what he was so worked up about.
And promptly did a double take.
A decorative rash had sprung up on her skin. That was the best way to describe it, really. Red and raised skin--the kind that occured after bumping into a hard corner--twined its way up from her wrist to just past her elbow. It was--pretty. It looked like fern leaves had wrapped themselves around her arm. All swirling and delicate and beautiful. There was a thicker âbranchâ of the fern that started at the base of her wrist and snaked up her forearm that all the other ferns seemed to connect to. Like the thicker spine of a feather with all the little barbs acting as feathers in their own right. A fractal. Sakura had a fractal on her arm.
It didnât hurt. Actually, if Sasuke hadnât been scowling at it like it had eaten his last tomato, Sakura wasnât sure how long it would have taken her to notice it. The electrical discharge had probably caused the fine capillaries under her skin to rupture. While it would probably blister later, it wasnât serious. She was fine. It didnât hurt.
Sakura repeated this to Sasuke. He spared her a glance to acknowledge that she had spoken, but quickly turned his attention back to her impromptu tattoo. The hand that wasnât holding hers came to hover over the thickest part of the fern. Stunned by Sasukeâs gentle attention, Sakura remained still and silent, curious as to what he would do next. A scowl still shadowed his expression; he either at war with himself or overly concerned with her âinjury.â Just as Sakura was about to reiterate that she was fine, his pointer finger lowered to the point that he was actually touching her and began to trace the feathered pattern on her skin.
And while describing the moment as âelectrifyingâ had somewhat lost its appeal somewhere in the last couple of seconds, damn. Did the sentiment remain. The hair on her arms stood straight up, and although Sakura wasnât sure if that was because sheâd just been on the receiving end of her own chidori or because Sasuke was touching her arm, she could be fairly confident that they werenât coming down anytime soon.
âIt doesnât hurt?â Sasuke repeated. His voice was quiet enough to be a whisper, but it had none of the trademark airy or high-pitched characteristics of a one. It was low and husky--a rumble. His finger continued to trace the fractal on her skin
âNo,â Sakura whispered back, more than a little dazed. Her eyes followed the continued movements of Sasukeâs finger. âIâm fine.â
The finger she had been watching finally came to a stop just on the inside of her elbow. The elbow, her brain reminded her helpfully, could be classified as an erogenous zone. She wondered if Sasuke knew that. Did he know what he was doing to her?
She had half a mind to ask, actually, since one part of her mind was screaming that Sasuke was still touching her and the other part was adding that Sasuke was touching an erogenous zone! When Sakura looked up to ask--that? Something else?--and found herself pinned under Sasukeâs intense gaze.
Shinobi communications were often minimal by necessity. Entire sentences conveyed in the barest of nods or flicker of the eyes. When silence and flawless coordination were the cornerstones of survival, it had to be. They were also usually quick. Efficient.
This--wasnât. It was more similar to the extended staredown between two combatants on a battlefield. He had been studying her, but now they were studying each other. Sizing each other up. Trying to sense the otherâs motives without giving themselves away. All Sakuraâs senses were on high alert, muscles tensed to spring, but whether she was going to spring towards Sasuke or away from him, she didnât know.
Which was ridiculous, really. Time and time again, Sakura had proven that when the chips were down, she would be backing Sasuke. Even knowing that her own heart had been battered and bruised almost as much as her body as the war concluded, Sakura was equally aware that this time could be no different. It had taken everything in her to stand against him once, and that was only because the safety of others was at stake. The possibility of her emotional state taking a couple more hits in no way justified her doing it again. She wouldnât.
She loved him.
It was, as always, a bittersweet revelation. The rush of fondness she felt for the man in front of her might threaten to burst through the walls of her heart, but it didnât overwhelm the accompanying prick of pain. While far more subtle that the powerful force pounding against her ribcage, the echoes of loneliness, fear, and loss remained. After all, some of Sakuraâs lowest moments had come about because of her love for Sasuke.
Not that she was alone in that. The more cherished a thing was, the more it hurt when it was tarnished or broken or lost. The Uchihaâs response to that had been to guard and isolate their hearts. Without cherished things, what pain could there be? It made a theoretical kind of sense, but Sakura hadnât lasted a week in the same attempt. She felt miserable and sad and overwhelmed--all of the things that she had been avoiding her feelings for. Without cherished things, what kind of life would there be?
Thatâs what Sakura had to keep reminding herself. The highs and lows were always intertwined. Much like yin and yang. The low didnât negate the high, it enhanced it. So when Sakuraâs heart panged, she let it. But she also released the the breath that had been holding since the moment Sasukeâs eyes had met hers, let the tension drain from her muscles, and closed her eyes. She loved him.
And she would endure and enjoy whatever else stemmed from that in equal measure.
As entwined as they were, Sakura felt it when Sasukeâs stance lost some of its rigidity--as if Sakuraâs revelation had somehow healed Sasuke in turn. His matching exhale was close enough that she felt its warmth land on her cheek. Something that sounded suspiciously like her name floated towards her with it. With her eyes closed though, it was impossible to tell if Sasukeâs lips had actually formed the syllables or if she had imagined it.
Not that it truly mattered, because Sasukeâs hand was moving again, and there was definitely no imagining the affection in his touch. She wondered if he realized it. Wondered if he knew his hand was trailing fire up her arm and across her collarbone. Wondered where he was going--what his plan was? There was a good chance he didnât have one, but that was okay. Right now, all Sakura really knew was that she didnât dare move. It was just like their moment in the medic hub. The second one of them spoke, or moved too quickly, this moment would burst.
And she really, really wanted it to last.
But if moments were one thing, they werenât lasting.
Just as Sasuke was about to cup her cheek in his hand--or so it seemed--his confidence either wavered or his attention sharpened. Either way, Sakura felt the brush of his fingertips against her ear as he closed his hand into a fist--and pulled away.
Once Sasuke and his hand had disentangled themselves from her, had moved back into neutral territory, they both exhaled, hard. Hard enough to confirm Sakuraâs earlier conclusions: neither one had been unaffected.
âRight,â Sasuke said, mostly to himself. âRight. I have one more idea we can try.â
The scream of frustration that threatened to tear its way out of her was only just smothered with a rather hard swallow. She swallowed again, just to make sure it wouldnât jump out the moment she opened her mouth.
âRight,â Sakura made herself respond. Was she supposed to ignore what had just happened? That seemed to be what Sasuke wanted. Not, she supposed, that it really surprised her. Emotional revelations never really sat well with him--especially not immediately after the fact. Would she gain anything by forcing him to acknowledge it? Sakura chewed her lip as she thought it over. Then sighed. Now wasnât the time.
âHelp me up, and then we can try this idea of yours.â Sakura held out the hand that wasnât covered in red patterns.
He hesitated, looking at her extended hand as if it was some sort of trap. Like it was possible that the moment Sasuke touched her skin, they both would be sucked back into whatever trance they had just broken out of. Despite his obvious reluctance, Sakura kept her hand extended. They couldnât run away from each other now.
Whether Sasuke reached the same conclusion or a parallel one, he paused for only a second longer before his hand was wrapping around hers and hauling her to her feet. Sakura half expected him to drop her hand the moment she was vertical, but his touch lingered, seemingly unwilling to let go until he knew she was stable.
It was a small thing, but Sakura couldnât stop her lips from curving up into a pleased smile that stayed in place even as Sasuke stepped back and out of her space into his own.
âYouâre struggling with too much energy in the chidori, but once itâs lightning youâre struggling to control it because youâre not a lightning user,â Sasuke told her, tone even and professional, Â âEspecially when thereâs so much energy stored up in it.â
Control was something Sakura had never struggled with, and the suggestion that could be the problem rankled her enough to wipe the smile from her lips.
âSo, if my chakra nature was lightning, I would have a working chidori defibrillator,â Sakura summarized, trying to emulate his detached tone. The seed of ever-present bitterness in her stomach shifted, and Sakura had to clench her hands to her sides. No matter how hard she worked, there was always some giant barrier. Not enough chakra, not the right chakra nature...it got old.
âIf you had a lightning as a chakra nature, you would have this technique down.â Sasuke had emphasized the âyouâ in that statement as if it meant something, but Sakura didnât follow. Reading the furrow between her eyebrows correctly, Sasuke added, âNot everyone with lightning chakra nature would have this technique by now.â
Oh. A rectangles and squares conundrum. All lightning chakra users with her chakra control could perform the chidori easily, but not all lightning chakra users had her chakra control. It was an old consolation--one both Kakashi and Tsunade had drawn on when she was feeling down. Over the years it had lost some of its potency, but coming from Sasuke it felt full strength. Sakuraâs fists loosened.
âThen, to beat the chakra nature system, I need to limit the amount of chakra I give the impulse to work with?â Sasuke nodded, but Sakura was skeptical. After all this trouble, that was it? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. There was no reason to go looking for problems where there were none. âAlright, letâs try it.â
âStart with enough chakra to cover your hand, but nothing more,â Sasuke cautioned as she took her stance. If this went wrong, there was nothing he could do about it--as had been evidenced by the last three times she had ended up on the ground. âSmaller quantities of lightning might be easier to control.â
While Sakura very much doubted that--nothing else this far had been easy--she refused to voice her concern. Instead she gathered enough chakra so that her hand was covered in what looked like a transparent, green glove. The transition from chakra to lightning came much easier, which just showed that her last three failures hadnât been for nothing. After the barest of nudges to one of the nerves in her wrist, sparking, blue electricity took the place of her chakra. This would be exciting if Sakura didnât now know that the true struggle was in maintaining the chakra.
So, with gritted teeth, she waited. Just beyond her outstretched hand, Sasuke looked equally tense--muscles taut and ready to spring at any notice. Spring to do what, well, she wasnât sure either of them knew. The crackling of Sakuraâs very own chidori filled the air around them, adding its own version of a soundtrack to their tense countdown.
After a full minute had passed, Sakura allowed herself to take a deep breath. Nothing changed. Hesitantly, Sakura removed her left hand from her right wrist. Still nothing changed. Gaining more confidence now, she began to move her charged hand from side to side--testing her control of it. It didnât waver.
Much like the last time sheâd gotten this far, Sakura searched for Sasukeâs eyes. She wanted to see his confirmation--to know that the fantasy she was currently experiencing was actually reality.
They said a Uchihaâs eyes carried nothing but illusions and deceit. Donât look him in the eyes, if you look him in they eyes, youâre done for. Despite having been on the receiving end of such an illusion, Sakura couldnât disagree more. Â Sasukeâs eyes had never lied to her. Not once. His posture had. His words had. But his eyes? Never.
Above the flickering blue of her chidori (her chidori!), Sakura finally found the charcoal gaze she was looking for. His eyes met hers, pure and honest if not always good, and Sakura knew.
She had done it.
Giddy with success, Sakura channeled more energy into her outstretched hand. Beyond her fingertips, she could see Sasuke tense, but he neednât have worried. The radius of lightning sphere increased, but her control didnât. Just as he had suspected.
The sound of chirping birds increased as Sakura poured chakra into her new technique. It was a sound that had filled her nightmares since that fateful day on top of the hospital roof, but she wasnât afraid now. This time she was in control. The smile the thought triggered was as thin and sharp as the sense of satisfaction that accompanied it. This was her chidori.
Sakura flexed her fingers and delighted in watching the lightning twine around them. It didnât hurt like she thought it would. Ino had dared her to lick a battery once when she was younger, and this felt much like that. Transitioning her chakra to lightning was a bit of a, well, shock, but now her hand just tingled as her tongue had once. A fuzzy sort of hum that reverberated through every bit of flesh her chidori contacted.
In her peripherals, one of the wooden dummies that Sasuke had painstakingly set up shifted in the breeze. The movement drew her attention, and the crackling at her wrist informed her of what to do next.
Sakura had told Sasuke that she had zero desire to utilize her chidori as a weapon, and she hadnât been lying. Yet there was something about the branchy targets swaying in the wind and the electricity thrumming through her urged her to pull her elbow back as if she were drawing bow. The chidori was close enough to her face that she could feel it buzzing in her teeth, but she didnât leave it there for long before she darted towards the target and thrust her hand through its chest.
Twigs and leaves exploded from the confines of the human shape they had been woven into, stinging Sakuraâs skin as they smacked against her. The small pricks of discomfort did nothing to smother the triumph that rocketed through her, though, and she through her fist in the air with a triumphant, âShannaro!â
When she turned around, she found Sasuke was busy picking twigs out of his hair. Seeing that Sakura was watching him, he gave his hair a final shake before straightening.
âHn,â he said with the slightest quirk of his eyebrow, âI think youâre ready to show the medics.â
--x--
Sakura did not tackle Shizune in a triumphant hug when she and Sasuke located her after returning from their corner of the forest. She was a medical professional, after all. Furthermore, as head medical professional she was still expected to act with some level of decorum in public. Had Shizune not been cradling a hot cup of tea in her hands like it was her only lifeline, however, Sakura might have thrown all of that to the wind.
What she did do was dash past the tent flaps and extra chairs before screeching to a halt directly before Tsunadeâs first disciple. Clasping her hands out of sight behind her back, she leaned in even closer, close enough that the steam from the tea warmed her chin, and fixed Shizune with an impish expression. Sasuke followed quietly in her wake, choosing to stand out of the way by the wedge of the tent. He could have abandoned her now that she had mastered the technique, but he had opted to stay thus far. For that, Sakura was thankful.
Without so much as flinching at the pink-haired womanâs sudden appearance or her brooding shadow, Shizune took a long drag of her tea while maintaining eye contact. When she finally pulled the disposable cup from her lips, she asked, âYouâre not about to hand me a lizard, are you?â
âHand you a--what?â Sakura reeled at the odd question before it clicked. She scowled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes or stamp her foot. âNo! That was one time! And only because Iâd successfully guided it to regrow its--nevermind. Forget it. Off topic.â She had triggered a dormant gene that allowed a lizard to regrow its backs legs and tail--which was kind of a big deal for a thirteen year old to have that kind of chakra control, thankyouverymuch--but that wasnât important right now.
âLook what I can do!â Sakura announced instead, bringing her hands out from behind her back.
The left hand dropped to her side, but when she brought her right hand up to hover by her ear, it was encased in a thin layer of light blue lightning. She wiggled her fingers at a wide eyed Shizune. The static radiating from her hand made her hair start to do funny things, so she lowered the amount of chakra she was using until only the pad of her pointer finger was still spitting blue sparks.
âAnd you have complete control?â Shizune asked, eyes still glued to Sakuraâs finger.
Instead of replying, Sakura rolled the blue bulb of electricity across the tips of her fingers like a street artist might roll a coin. Once the shrunken chidori had traveled from her pointer finger to her pinky and back, Sakura pulled her fingers into a loose fist with the exception of her pointer finger. Understandably, Shizuneâs eyes quickly focused on the oddly glowing finger. Working off an impulse, Sakura brought her pointer finger closer and close to Shizuneâs face until the elder medicâs eyes crossed trying to track it. With a lighthearted giggle, Sakura tapped Shizuneâs nose playfully, making sure to fully extinguish the chidori before making contact.
Her point made, Sakura once again clasped her hands behind her back. There was a silly grin on her face, she knew it, but she didnât bother trying to smooth her expression. A lot of work had gone into learning this technique. She had every right to be proud! True, there was still a lot of work to do before her plan was completely realized, but Sakura felt lighter than she had in days.
âComplete control indeed,â Shizune muttered. While her eyes were focused on Sakura, her attention was not. âWill all our medics be able to use this, or just our lightning users?â
âEvery medic should be able to perform this jutsu,â Sakura stated confidently. âWe donât even have to take time to teach our lightning users to use the full chidori.â
Shizuneâs eyes widened before they narrowed, clearly unconvinced. Sakura knew it seemed confusing. Only hours ago, Sakura had been dead set on teaching a medical version of the chidori to at least their lightning users. Before Sakura could explain her reasoning, however, Shizuneâs mouth rounded in a silent âohâ of comprehension.
âYou donât have to teach them the full chidori,â she repeated, âmeaning youâve discovered a shorthand.â
âExactly!â Sakura chirped. She resisted bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child, but felt tremors wrack her body as her excitement was redirected. No matter. She didnât need steady hands right now, just a partner. And, luckily, hers hadnât retreated for his room with Naruto quite yet. With a large grin on her face, Sakura glanced over at Sasuke, âShall we give a demonstration?â
Sasukeâs lips pursed as he studied her, obviously skeptical. Alright, so the giddy shivers probably werenât doing the best job at instilling confidence that she could pull off another demonstration. Even Kakashi could only pull a couple of chidoris in a row on a good day. She was at, what, two self-generated chidori right now? Two successful ones, anyway? Sasuke could very well be right, but she really wanted to show Shizune how this worked! Sakura took a deep breath and clasped her hands in front of her both to hide the persistent shaking and to assist in giving him the best puppy-dog look her dignity would allow.
âCâmon Sasuke-kun,â she coaxed him, âI wonât even have to use any chakra to generate the chidori, Iâll just have to catch it from you.â
The honorific caught him off-guard enough that his face shifted from a suspicious-neutral to flummoxed neutral. Not that Sakura blamed him. The endearment had caught her off-guard, too. But hopefully she had added just enough logic to convince him.
Sasuke gave a very Shikamaru-like sigh, but the corners of his eyes crinkled as he uncrossed his arms and summoned lightning to his hand. Shizune flinched at the suddenness of the jutsu, and, despite the fact that Sakura had been training with Sasuke for the better part of the day, she had to agree. Â It was only after she had successfully demonstrated the chidori that Sasuke began using his short-cut method.
Nodding, Sakura resumed her stance once more. In a movement that was almost habit, Sakura grabbed her right wrist with her left hand and began to channel her chakra there. It took a couple of seconds longer than normal, but in the end her chakra had gathered around her fist like an a small halo. Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced herself to loosen her control enough that the edges of her chakra turned hazy. All she had to do was empty her mind and be ready to receive the impulse from Sasuke.
âOkay, Sasuke, I think this is as ready as Iâm going to be,â Sakura said, her previous giddiness gone. She was struggling to keep her voice steady. Maybe Sasuke had been right to doubt her. She already felt like she was reaching her limit, which was really not a great sign. Sheâd only be training for two hours now--maybe three?
Thankfully, Sasuke didnât hesitate. He might have gone out of his way to use a long-hand method of the chidori he had since outgrown for her, but he didnât dawdle and ask if she was sure. Didnât ask if she was okay because she seemed to be struggling. He just frowned at her slightly before nodding and adding a bit more power to his chidori.
The chidoris that Sakura summoned were almost perfectly spherical as a testament to her perfect chakra control. The lightning that surrounded Sasukeâs hand, in contrast, was only vaguely ovoid in shape. Long tendrils of electricity were constantly lashing out from and retreating to the ovoid--like a bundle of sentient whips. As his wild looking chidori grew in size, Sasuke stepped as close as he dared towards Sakura before also extending his hand in her direction. Sakura let go of her wrist, breathing hard and extended her hand him as well. For a moment, they mirrored eachother like that. Standing on opposite sides of an invisible line they had created for themselves, reaching out to one another. A moment standing still in time.
Then one of Sasukeâs lightning hit one of her hazy sphere of chakra.
Bright blue--no, electric blue lightning arced around Sakuraâs fist as naturally as if she had summoned it there herself. And for that second the picture was completed, two shinobi with lightning in their palms. Then, as slowly as Sakura had approached him in the clearing, Sasuke lowered his own fist. When it was finally at his side, Sasuke took a step back from her and let his chakra slip away, his source of lightning also evaporating.
But Sakuraâs source remained.
And, just to prove she could, Sakura shrunk the chidori to only her pointer finger as she had earlier. She followed this by pinching the tips of all her fingers together, and, when she separating them, each one was lit was its own blue ball of energy.
âThis could work,â Shizune said as Sakura extinguished her chidori.
Tears suddenly welled in the corner of her eyes, blurring her vision. Sakura choked out a sound that was half a laugh and half a sob as she tried to wipe away the sudden deluge. It wasnât as if Shizuneâs statement was news to her. For goodness sake, Sakura had come to tell Shizune that her her plan would work. But hearing her conclusion repeated by another medic--one that she trusted and respected--was such a relief that she could hardly stand it.
Every thing she had done for the last three days had lead up to this moment.
But she hadnât been alone in her efforts.
Sakura turned to Sasuke, the emotion that brought tears to her eyes threatening to close her throat as well. Tears still trickled from her eyes lethargically, but she made no move to wipe them away anymore, opting to smile through them instead. The blurriness they caused didnât matter so much when her vision was tunneled in on Sasuke anyway. She felt trembly, like there were too many things she wanted to say bouncing around inside her all at once. She wanted to launch herself into his arms and squeeze him or twirl him around or--or something. Â She needed to lay her head on his chest and let his heartbeat bring her back down to earth. She needed to know that he was real--that this was real.
Although she didnât remember making the conscious decision to move, her feet were suddenly propelling her forwards. Somehow she managed to trip on the leg of a chair or something, because there was a jolt of fear in her stomach, that sickly sensation of falling before strong arms and a masculine scent wrapped around her.
Konoha pine and smoke. Sasuke.
She let her suddenly heavy eyelids flutter shut and ignored the panicked voices that rose around her in favor of the steady beat drumming under her cheekbone. Just as she had imagined.
âWe did it,â Sakura murmured tiredly, allowing the constant rhythm of Sasukeâs heart to soothe her as the world went black.
Well, six months is better than two years, I suppose. There are still some pieces of this chapter that donât flow as nicely as I would like, but, 8000+ words later here we are. Iâm sure Iâll be back to edit this (let me know if something doesnât make sense), but for now I just needed to push this out of my google drive.
Title: Chidorilator
Summary: A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer: I donât own Naruto.
Prompt:Â This fic has been abandoned for so long that the original post that inspired it was deleted. Previously sakurackerman (now @ciribi?) once wondered what would happen if Sakura used the chidori as a defibrillator on the field.
Rating: T
Warning(s): Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
For the first time in a very long while, Sakura felt warm and comfortable.
The soles of her feet werenât throbbing, she wasnât entertaining a pulsing headache, and her muscles werenât spasming randomly. Instead the constant adrenaline and caffeine induced buzz that spanned her whole body, Sakura felt blissful nothingness. The exhausted fog that had hung over her thoughts and actions like a wet blanket had been removed. While her thoughts werenât sharp or clear yet, it seemed more like her head had been enveloped in a plush comforterâor cotton ballsâand they were slowly being pulled away.
Like she was waking up.
The thought removed the rest of the cotton balls clouding her mind in a hurry, and Sakura was struck with the sudden realization that she was indeed waking up. Her eyelids still felt heavy and stuck together, but the surge of panic that blasted through her system helped her to open her eyes all the way.
Where was she? How long had she been out? Was she supposed to be operating? Who was on shift? What time was it? When was her next scheduled operation? Was it now? Why hadnât anyone come and gotten her yet?
Sakuraâs heart felt like it was racing a million miles an hour, and the area in her immediate vision was hazy and out of focus. Every cell in her body was screaming move! but without a clear sense of direction or threat. Her pupils were dilated to near the point of enveloping the viridian hue that surrounded them, and every hair on dusting her skin raised.
Breathe. The deep gulp of air Sakura forced into her lungs helped drive down the blind panic that had engulfed her. She blinked a couple times and pushed herself to actually take in her surroundings.
A half circle of wooden chairs. Familiar sketches of the surrounding area and medical tents. Her standard black pants and long-sleeved shirt on the floor. CrĂšme canvas walls that fluttered in the slight breeze.
She was in her tent.
Now secure in her surroundings, the adrenaline and fear emptied her system in a rush, leaving her to sag bonelessly against her brick of a bed. Sakura might have just woken up, but there was no way she was going to trick herself into thinking she was rested. Yawning heavily, Sakura determined that if she was needed, someone would have summoned her by now. Although it bothered her that she didnât remember falling asleep, she didnât seem to be in any danger. So, she snuggled closer into her threadbare pillow and tried to fall back asleep.
But couldnât.
Sakura was safe in her own tent, swathed in the perfect amount of blankets, and she was still tired enough that she didnât even mind the scratchy material of her pillow. Still, there was this insistent nagging in the back of her mind that pushed for her to leave her comfortable cocoon. Scowling, Sakura rubbed her face into her bed like she was trying to remove the annoyingâand very demandingâimpulse to get out of bed.
Why would she leave her bed when she had absolutely nowhere to bâ
With a painful thud, Sakuraâs heart thudded to a stop in her chest and she flew up from her pillow with an angry, meaningless shriek. The blanket sheâd been so comfortable in before was nothing but a hindrance now, and she struggled to move her limbs as fast as she could.
How the fuck could I forget?! Sakura punched her arm through her shirt with nearly enough force to tear through the fabric. Her pants got the same rough treatment (she did not remember hanging them there), and she was still struggling with a sandal as she pushed through the fabric door to her tent.
Title: Chidorilator
Summary: A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer: I donât own Naruto.Â
Prompt: Headcanon where Sakura learns chidori from Sasuke in order to use it on the field as a defibrillator (by sakurackerman)
Rating: T
Warning(s): Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
Complaining about an absent sparring partner, though, that was a completely different story.
Grinding his teeth, Sasuke pushed off the tree he had been leaning against. He was angryâlivid, actually. Despite the fact that Sakura was only meeting him to train, Sasuke couldnât help but feel that he had been stood up. This, in turn, only made him angrier. Why should he care Sakura was a no-show? It was her loss, not his.
It was just because he put so much time into preparing for their session, he told himself. Sasuke had spent an hour thinking about the best way to teach the chidori to her. Half the techniques Kakashi had used with him wouldnât work with Sakura, simply because she didnât have the sharingan. Visualization had always been a key part in understanding a jutsu for him, though, so he thought if she could give Sakura a target for her chidori, it would be easier. Thus, the crude tree-mannequins.
Which, apparently, had been a total waste of time. Sasuke felt like an idiot. Heâd dedicated far too much time preparing for this session, and he had been waiting for an hour after the agreed time to boot. Enough was enough, he was going home.
Title:Â Chidorilator
Summary:Â A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer:Â I donât own Naruto. If I did, there would be Uchiha babies by now.
Prompt: Headcanon where Sakura learns chidori from Sasuke in order to use it on the field as a defibrillator (by sakurackerman)
Rating:Â T
Warning(s):Â Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
Authorâs Note: Thanks to cumberwho-and-johnlock for being my amazing beta and rediscovering this fic! Also, this will be a multichap so stay posted!
âConsciousâ probably wasnât the correct term to apply to Sakura at this moment in time. Determined to make progress with the chidori, she had trained until the sun went down without pause. By now, Sakura had been on her feet for a grand total of 32 hours straight, and her body was beginning to feel the effects.
At least I made some progress! Sakura thought, using a hand to cover her wide yawn.
Eight hours in the forest had not gone unrewarded. By the time she walked out, Sakura was consistently forcing her chakra to flicker about her hand in the desired shape. What she lacked was the chakra nature to then force it into electricity.
Despite the bone-tired weariness that coursed through her body, Sakura felt slightly optimistic. In her hospital shift before her training, she hadnât lost any patients, and then sheâd made actual leeway in her quest for the perfect chidori defibrillator.
A chidorilator, she mused tiredly, a giggle bubbling up her throat. Two nurses paused in their rounds to look at her skeptically, and she hurriedly staunched her laughter and ducked into a walkway between tents to avoid more judgmental stares. Once out of sight, she patted her cheeks firmly three times and shook her head to wake up before dispensing a soldier pill from its canister at her side. The pill fell just short of her mouth, however, when a frowning Sakura pulled it back.
Maybe I need to take a quick nap, Sakura reflected while rolling the soldier pill through her fingers contemplatively; she now doubted her decision to come straight to the hospital after training. It was hypocritical, warning shinobi against over-using the chakra stimulants while she downed them like water. A rueful smile graced her lips.
âOnly for emergencies, right?â Sakura asked the air, repeating the words she delivered to every shinobi before they left on extended missions.
The tiny granules of chemical compounds composing her moral dilemma shifted in their red sugar coating. Yes, Sakura knew what was in the pills and how it worked; even better, Sakura knew what the pills did to a person in the long run: degradation of chakra pathways, decrease in chakra control, and organ failure were only a few of the effects.
So why was she even thinking about taking another one?
If she was honest, Sakura could admit that she was running herself into the ground. Sleep deprivation had its nasty share of side effects, and caffeine could only act as a supplement for so long. Combine that with her recent pill popping party, and even non-medics could spot her particular recipe for disaster.
Sighing, Sakura lifted her gaze from the pill to gaze upon the sea of tents surrounding her. She knew it was bad for her health to continue on as she was, truly, it was justâŠshe didn't care.
How could she justify taking a break as hundreds of shinobi lay fighting for their lives? Was her sleep really worth the futures of the comrades she could be saving?
âSakura-chan? Is that you over there?â a familiar voice called.
Without hesitating a second longer, Sakura raised the pill to her mouth and swallowed it dry.
Title:Â Chidorilator
Summary:Â A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer:Â I donât own Naruto. If I did, there would be Uchiha babies by now.
Prompt: Headcanon where Sakura learns chidori from Sasuke in order to use it on the field as a defibrillator (by sakurackerman)
Rating:Â T
Warning(s):Â Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
Authorâs Note: Thanks to cumberwho-and-johnlock for being my amazing beta and rediscovering this fic! Also, this will be a multichap so stay posted!
The stench of burnt flesh consumed the air of the clearing. Two ninja swathed in black faced off, backed by broken and singed trees and ground-a testament to their hours of training. The petal-haired womanâs locks were stained darker with sweat, and the only sound to be heard was harsh panting from the quivering young woman.
âArrrgh!â Sakura grunted, agonized but determined. She was beginning to sway on her feet, but she hadnât made an inch of progress yet. Concerned, Kakashi stepped forward, but Sakura backed away from him, waving off his anxiety the flick of a single hand.
âI can get this, Kakashi-sensei, I can, just one more try!â her previously shaky legs widened into a larger stance, and she gripped her right wrist with her left hand.
As Kakashi had warned, it was difficult to tease the chakra out from her body. With chakra scalpels and healing it was different, sure, her chakra was formed outside her body, but it always had a shape-a definable edge. This, this was completely the opposite; to successfully complete the chidori she had to somehow select thin wires of her built up chakra and coax them into flicking around of their own accord, then allowing the transition from chakra to electricity.
âFuck, ow!â she cursed, shaking her burning wrist. Failing was not the desired outcome, as the chakra Sakura had built up had a tendency to explode in a molten burst. The target of such an outburst was the skin the chakra had built up around. It was fair to say that Sakuraâs wrist was now a mess of half-healed, nearly-second-if-not-third-degree burns.
âSakura, this was a great idea, but I donât think itâs going to work out,â Kakashi began, his tone extremely gentle without seeming condescending, âItâs just-youâre not an electric type. If I had to guess Iâd say you were either earth or water, but I know itâs not electricity.â
âGoddammit, there has to be some way around it!â Sakura began to focus her chakra in her aching wrist once more, only for sleep deprivation and chakra exhaustion to force her to her knees.
Hands were immediately on her shoulders, helping her up, and a small, immature portion of herself wanted nothing more than to swat him away. This is why she hadnât wanted Kakashi as a teacher. Sure, he was a lot easier to convince, but she didnât need someone who balked at the sight of her in pain. Sakura needed results; she needed someone who would look at her singed wrist and shaky legs, curl his lip and say, âYouâre doing it wrong. Try again.â
Of course, Kakashi was the only one helping her, and her gentle nature allowed her to thank him as she rose to her feet with his assistance-albeit stiffly. Seeing both of Kakashiâs eyes at one time was odd, and it would definitely take some getting used too, although the worry the contained was all too familiar. Here it came, the 'Take care of yourself, Sakura-chanâ lecture.
âSakura,â Kakashi began, his tone taking on his 'senseiâ voice, âYou really should get some r-â
âI donât have time for rest, Kakashi-sensei,â Sakura snapped, popping a soldier pill from the container in her pouch. Her tone had Kakashi straightening in shock, and Sakura flinched internally.
Making Kakashi guilty wasnât in her plans, but sheâd be lying if there wasnât a little resentment there as well. He was just as bad as Naruto and Sasuke when it came down to it, always pushing her back out of the way of harm. Really, what had Kakashi done for her as a genin besides pat her on the head, falsely console her, tell her she had great chakra control and talent for genjutsu, and then leave her? As soon as Naruto and Sasuke left, Kakashi had been gone. At least he had found a teacher for Naruto, but sheâŠ
Managed it on my own, Sakura thought firmly, ridding her head of pointless accusations. She was here now, and that was all that mattered.
Jerkily, Sakura bowed before leaving, âThank you for your time. Iâm sorry it was a wasted effort. Iâll be at the hospital if anyone needs me.â
No, this wasnât Kakashiâs fault, but Sakura wasnât in the mood to sit and smooth things over, either. This was her only plan, and it was failing, and she had missed eight hours of hospital rotation for absolutely no progress of any kind.
Maybe the hospital would be in better condition today
Title: Chidorilator
Summary: A request from Sakura for Sasuke to teach her the chidori opens up a whole bigger can of worms than she was expecting.
Disclaimer: I donât own Naruto. If I did, there would be Uchiha babies by now.
Prompt:Â Headcanon where Sakura learns chidori from Sasuke in order to use it on the field as a defibrillator (by sakurackerman)
Rating: T
Warning(s):Â Mentions of war, death, and some foul language
Authorâs Note: Thanks to cumberwho-and-johnlock for being my amazing beta and rediscovering this fic! Also, this will be a multichap so stay posted!
Crimson rivulets ran from her fingers into the clear water in which she bathed them. The once-pristine liquid turned pink and then a darker maroon as she continued to wash. Tainted. Just like everything else. While the thought crossed her mind, it didnât paralyze her like it used to, and she wondered if she should worry-if she was finally too far gone.
The loose blood removed, she scrubbed angrily at the stubborn, half-congealed chunks located beneath her nails, between her fingers, and wedged in the crease of her elbow. They clung stubbornly, and it took several passes with the rag temporarily replacing her loofa to completely remove them from her skin.
Finally freed, Sakura felt no satisfaction as she watched the remnants of her patient spiral down the shower drain. One more patient lost. One more casualty of the war.
Growling angrily, Sakura massaged her new Byakugo no In seal. This was getting ridiculous. She was losing patients to heart attacks right and left, and she had no idea what to do. With a sigh, Sakura rested her head on the cool tile of the shower while the scalding water pounded over her fatigued body. She needed to think.
Itâs not that she didnât know how to treat heart attack patients, it was that they didnât have enough medics or chakra to keep using their current methods. Generally, medics would stimulate a patientâs heart with gentle waves of chakra into a more regular rhythm. After being exposed to so many different types of chakra during the war, however, responses to foreign chakra deep within their system were violent-so violent that often the severity of the attack was increased.
Then there was the problem that the medics simply didnât have the energy or focus to keep up such labor intensive methods. It took dedication and focus to mold the waves into the right type of shape and gently work a patient down from an attack.
Most medics at this point were walking zombies; her stubbornness was the only thing keeping her from recognizing the deep purple bags under her own eyes, and the patients succumbing to heart failure was breaking records. Sheâd been running from building to building, performing the same demanding procedure all her medics had been too tired to achieve.
And even she only had a 75% success rate at this point.
When the waterâs temperature spiked a little too low for her comfort, Sakura jerked back from the wall and hurriedly ran her hands through her hair. If her half-hearted methods failed to remove all the blood, sweat, and grime, Sakura couldnât bring herself to care; itâd be the same in a matter of hours.