i'm so used to doing this myself. / sunathread 😮💨😈😈
❛⠀um, well ! ❜ her time here is short, and sakura feels like a wanted criminal. this identity she wears is pleasant : it is respectful, and honourable, and everything the student of the legendary sannin, lady tsunade, had ought to present herself with. not to mention the fact that she, too, was the disciple of the current rokudaime. the endeavour which began from simple earnestness in wanting to know as much as she could over the shinobis she had oversaw towards the end of the war had brought her into this diplomatic effort, and sakura feels like the pleasantness she had practised sowing over her body doubled itself in thickness the longer her medical tour took.
this is not a reflection of kankurō-sama.
it couldn't be, not when kankurō-sama has been nothing but welcoming and patient and open, being the main chaperone for sakura and what little group of entourage konohagakure had synonymously dispatched in cementing the legitimacy of this visit while ensuring security. this is where sakura's thievery lies : not from kankurō-sama's earnest effort to always meet her half-way, nor in the moments when his eyes would skitter each time it meets hers for too long, but it lies instead in how sakura feels like she is continuously, and disdainfully, tricking him. she almost wants to say, kankurō-sama, don't be fooled. i am not always this pleasant. i am not always this amiable. i'm short-tempered, and emotional, and sometimes, believe it or not, so debilitatingly useless.
some days, it's difficult to wake up. on days i don't work, or when i am not needed, i would lay in my bed for hours. i would cry. i am full of tears, it seems. i'm horrible, and demanding, and i make poor company. kankurō-sama, please don't look at me like that. i'm not worth it. you'll leave anyway. they always do.
but that would be presumptuous of her, wouldn't it ? so sakura says none of that. at present, she bends down to also carry her fair share of sacks and wooden boxes containing, it seems, wheats and grains. her eyebrows lift at it, her curiosity leaking over her expressions, and sakura smiles and smiles and smiles. half in anticipation for the explanation he will surely give her when she asks, and half because it's easier to do so lately. just because she could never permanently keep his attention, it would never mean sakura wouldn't try to monopolise it while it's there. this is another thing she will steal: a moment to exist beyond the roles of the provider, the healer, the nurse. in kankurō-sama's explanation, sakura is only a listener. that is enough.
❛⠀— now that i'm here, i wouldn't mind helping ! ❜ she hefts it around her arms and adjusts. weighs. ❛⠀are there any more ? ❜
@sunathread — patching up wounds.
