Chapter Text
I once had the understanding
that everything would go my way
Now we’ve come to far along for me
to hold on to my own beliefs
The landscape was like an ethereal stage for the world’s most romantic play. A soft breeze blew like a caress from the west, carrying the smell of poppies in full bloom. The scene was dominated by a sea of beautiful, lush trees. Bright red apples and dark purple berries peeked through the curtain of green. Towering from behind the treeline rose a mountain. A waterfall cascaded down from it, the rays of the sun reflecting off the falling water, making it sparkle and stand out from the rocky slope. The sun was bright, but not too bright. The large clearing in the centre of this stage was overgrown with lush foliage, barely a rock in sight. It was a place ready for two lost lovers to meet again; for a son to forgive his long-estranged father; for forging a friendship that would pass the test of time.
Unfortunately, fate must have missed the memo. Today, the clearing was not a scene of romance, but of horror.
The trees were blemished by scorch marks, some halfway burned to a crisp. The ground was littered with craters, rough gouges in the surface of the earth. The grass that once dominated the scene was nowhere to be found.
In the middle was the largest crater of all. Twenty-foot deep and five times as wide, this crater had become an unwilling centrepiece. On its edge stood three figures.
One was tall and lanky, grey hair standing upright, both eyes closed. The line of his neck was tense and he stood unnaturally still.
One was short and bulky, his bright orange jacket contrasting sharply against his face, white as chalk.
The last of the three was the only one moving. She clenched her fists tightly, tears forming in her eyes. Her right foot started to move forward before changing its mind and falling behind her instead.
She was the only woman among them, and she was the first to speak.
“No.”
In the deepest point of the central crater lay a lone figure. One leg was buried underneath a rock, his hands forever locked in the second-to-last sign of a summoning jutsu. He was covered in burns and scratches. Half of his hair was gone, and his free leg sprawled at an unnatural angle. The canvas of his body was painted in a mix of colours: midnight black, poisonous purple, deathly white, and bloody crimson. But worst of all were the two patches of dark crimson on his face. Two holes where his eyes had once been.
Sakura took another look at the boy she had loved for most of her life and fainted.
Their arrival back in Konoha was met with uproar.
Sakura felt like she was in a dream, watching detachedly as they reported to Tsunade-shishou. Naruto had the body – Sasuke’s body – slung over his shoulder. He only let go after the Hokage promised she would oversee the examination personally. After Sasuke was taken away, Naruto stood there, hunched down as if the weight was still there.
Naruto insisted on carving Sasuke’s name into the Memorial Stone. Tsunade-shishou didn’t stop them, no matter the fact that Sasuke was officially a missing-nin. And so the last three members of Team 7 stared at the shakily carved-out kanji of Uchiha Sasuke’s name as the sun sunk down the horizon.
Kakashi’s whole body was stiff. A myriad of emotions warred for dominance on his face and for a moment, Sakura wondered if he would be the one to initiate a conversation. Maybe he was able to say the words would soothe the barbed edges of the gaping hole inside her chest. He was their sensei, after all.
But before he was their sensei, he was Kakashi. A man who’d been broken so often there wasn’t anything left to break.
So when this old and weary man threw what was left of his team a lazy wave and disappeared, Sakura was not surprised. Disappointed, maybe, behind her veil of shock and disassociation, but not surprised.
If Sakura would have known this was the last time she would see Kakashi in a very, very long time; that even Gai would have trouble pulling Kakashi from the memorial stone, caught in a spiral of guilt… She wasn’t sure she would’ve done anything different.
When Naruto finally looked up, the tears Sakura had been repressing welled up again. Now would be the moment Naruto would cheer her up. He always knew how to reignite her Will of Fire. He was the one who never gave up. He was the unstoppable optimist; she, the pragmatic realist. But today, Naruto’s face stayed blank – like a part of him was missing, a part so vital to who he was it tore what remained of him apart.
Sakura wanted to reach out to him, but couldn’t. She didn’t know how. She’d never done it before. They simply did not work that way.
She’d just worked up the courage to open her mouth when–
“N-Naruto-kun.”
A spike of surprise broke through Sakura’s veil of apathy. Hyuuga Hinata had just initiated conversation with her crush for the first time in her life. Sakura would have been proud if she wasn’t feeling so empty.
“I’m so s-sorry for your loss,” Hinata said earnestly, wringing her hands together. “You’ve always t-taken care of others. L-let me take care of you, now.” Her voice grew steadier. “Come with me.” She turned towards Sakura in afterthought, giving her a shy smile. “Y-you can come too, if you want, Sakura-san.”
Sakura blinked at her, her eyes moving out of sync, first one and then the other. “It’s alright,” she said automatically. “I’m going to Ino.”
It was better that way. She wouldn’t ruin things for her friend who finally got the courage to approach her crush. Besides, Naruto clearly needed something that didn’t remind him of Sasuke. That something wasn’t Sakura. Did the two of them ever talk about anything without the words bring him home bubbling underneath the surface? She honestly didn’t know. It had been part of their life for so long. The fact that it was over now felt unreal. Like she turned the page, and the rest of the book was suddenly blank.
“Alright.” Hinata looked back at Naruto. “Naruto-kun? Are you c-coming?” When Naruto didn’t react, Hinata squared her shoulders. The fire of determination ignited in her eyes. Gai would be proud. She grabbed Naruto’s upper arm and started walking.
Sakura watched them go, unable to make her own feet go after them. If she’d known this would be the beginning of a very successful relationship – so successful, in fact, that the two of them would rarely think of anyone but each other for months – she would still be unable to do anything.
Because, as Hinata dragged Naruto away, they both left her behind.
Sakura shut her eyes and curled inward against the pain welling up within. Memories assaulted her from out of nowhere. Sasuke, disappearing in the darkness, leaving her alone on the bench on a cold winter’s night, leaving her to wake up in a world where he’d abandoned her. Kakashi, jerking her out of harm’s way, snarling at her to hide while he jumped back into the battle without her. Naruto, running ahead, too fast for her to catch up, always watching his back.
Useless.
Fourteen minutes later, Sakura exhaled a shuddering breath. She wiped her eyes and turned her back to the memorial stone. It was time to find Ino. Ino would understand. She would help.
And she would have, had she been in Konoha. But Sakura was brushed off by a Yamanaka cousin, who told her Ino was on a long-term infiltration mission, expected back in two months.
So Sakura went home.
Alone.
That was the day everything started to fall apart.
Sakura spent the next weeks in a daze. Ino was gone. Naruto was with Hinata. Kakashi was either nowhere to be found, or in front of the Memorial Stone, unresponsive. She and TenTen had never been that close. Shizune was filling in for Sakura at the hospital.
She went to see Tsunade, once. Her shishou had given her two bottles of sake, a big hug, and three weeks off. Sakura hadn’t been by since. The Hokage had more important things to deal with than the broken heart of a single kunoichi. Besides, Tsunade hadn’t known Sakura when she was young, obsessed with marrying Sasuke. By the time she’d met Tsunade, Sakura had matured. The infatuated girl had been hidden away, had faded – but she’d never died.
Not until now.
There was nothing to do, and no one to go to. Her friends were busy, her parents long dead. She was alone. Just her and her demons.
There was nothing to distract her from her pain. Sakura’s hands itched and her mind was restless. She could barely bring herself to eat. Her days were long and isolated. Her nights were tormented with nightmares.
Sakura used to fantasize how she’d meet Sasuke again. She imagined Sasuke turning up at the gate with Orochimaru’s head, full of remorse and wisdom. She thought of stumbling into him in a pub in a distant town – fighting, screaming, and finally talking throughout the night. At dawn, she would hold out her hand, and he would take it.
But most of all she imagined Team 7 chasing Sasuke down, coming closer and closer until Naruto finally managed to pin Sasuke down and bring him home for good. She and Kakashi would be trailing behind with a smile and an eye-crinkle, and her heart would finally be whole again.
She never imagined Sasuke’s story would end in an unnamed clearing, killed by an unknown shinobi.
Then Inner woke up.
It had started as a vague awareness of something in her mind, slivers of thought that were not her own, thoughts that were far more belligerent and emotional than hers. The presence felt familiar, although Sakura didn’t recognize Inner at first. Only after four nights of near-sleeplessness did Inner’s voice finally pierce through the veil between them.
The words sounded like a mantra, like Inner had been saying them for days. “I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m here. You’re not alone.”
Sakura started crying.
She’d missed Inner. Her other half hadn’t spoken to her after Sasuke left, choosing to stay silent for years. Sakura had thought Inner had gone away, that they had merged somehow, but she was wrong.
Without Inner she would have never made it through Sasuke’s death. Inner was her pillar. She was the one to convince her to get groceries, to change the sheets, to drink a glass of water before falling back into bed. Inner listened to her crying and soothed her when she woke up clutching a kunai.
And so the first week passed.
The second week, Naruto dropped by twice. Neither of them could think of anything to say. Something between them was shattered, missing. Old habits became uncomfortable. Jokes based on shared determination turned into reminders of their failure. Both of them were too emotionally exhausted to establish a new balance.
There weren’t many happy memories of Sasuke to share, anyway.
(Kakashi did not visit at all.)
At one point, Inner suggested it would be healthy for Sakura to channel her emotions. She wasn’t in the mood for meditation, so Inner suggested a shinobi’s favourite coping method: violence.
Sakura spent the third week punching trees, rocks, the earth, and any other non-living things she could find in Konoha’s training grounds. She destroyed three clearings and managed to eat three meals a day.
The week after that was split between training and hospital duty. It was nice to have a reason to be forced out of her apartment, to have something to do with her time. But the overly-concerned and sympathetic hugs from her co-workers only made Sakura retreat into herself further. They felt like sandpaper on bare skin, like forcing a plaster on a wound that hadn’t been stitched. In a way, the co-workers who stoically pretended nothing happened while whispering behind her back how she could mourn a traitor were better.
The hospital was not quite the escape Sakura had hoped, but it was better than being home alone.
One day, Sakura hunted down Kakashi and challenged him to a spar. Her once-sensei looked at her with haunted, empty eyes and told her the stars weren’t right for a spar today. She didn’t ask again.
Instead, Sakura walked home in the pouring rain, back to an empty apartment. She felt even more numb than ever before. Was there truly no one left to care about her?
The lonely monotony of her life was broken by an unexpected source.
Sakura was at her favourite training ground, the day after Kakashi turned her down. She was going to break twice the amount of trees today.
Just as she finished her warm-up, a green blur emerged from the foliage. “My Youthful Blossom!” the shrill and enthusiastic cry of a familiar voice reached her ears. “Gai-sensei saw you asking for a Youthful Spar yesterday and sent me to fulfil your desire! You are burning with the Will of Fire!” Lee struck a pose, teeth shining.
Sakura blinked, about to turn him down out of reflex.
“Hold up, Outer!” Inner cut in. “Why not accept his challenge? He’s a taijutsu monster – we could learn something from him. Besides, can we really afford to be picky right now?”
Sakura felt a little ashamed of herself. Inner was right. Maybe it was time to try something new. Forcing a smile, Sakura gave the boy a thumbs-up. “Sure, Lee!”
“YOSH!” Lee answered in delight, showing none of his surprise. “Let Us Begin!” he shouted, the words audibly capitalized, and then he was gone.
Sakura felt him appear behind her, but before she could react, she was flying across the field and smacking face-first into a rock.
Lying face-down between the debris, hands automatically pressed against her face to heal her broken nose, Sakura grinned.
They sparred together almost every day. The pain she felt inside became pain on the outside, which she could heal, so that was a lot better. The days she would’ve otherwise spend inside were now spend outside, because she couldn’t let Lee down. The violence that had started as coping method to deal with the pain became a little more than that, filled with tips and conversations and even some smiles.
Sakura was grateful – to Gai and Lee both. Though she never told Lee about the nightmares, about passing Naruto in the street and not meeting his eyes, about turning Shizune’s motherly concern away with flimsy lies, Lee helped. The daily activity, Lee’s endless enthusiasm, and their steadily increasing banter brightened Sakura’s days.
And so Sakura and Lee became friends.
This did not magically fix everything. The rumours at the hospital had not died down. She still had trouble eating three full meals a day. Besides work and sparring, most of her time was spent staring at the wall of her apartment. Sakura tried to go shopping for new clothes, only to feel overwhelmed by all the colours and choices and retreat back into her shell. She went for coffee with TenTen, but their conversation was superficial and the meeting left her drained. Tsunade called her into her office and asked how she was doing, but Sakura sensed the ever-present ANBU-guard and saw the bags under Tsunade’s eyes and just smiled.
The bright points mostly centred around Lee. Lee was not afraid to offer her advice on taijutsu. He corrected her and complimented her in the same breath, never implying she wasn’t good enough. One day, Gai came along to encourage her Youthfulness, taking Sakura and Lee on together. They got beaten soundly, but both got a new training regime from it.
She would never forget what they’d done for her. They were the only ones to actively reach out for her – not even her shishou could make time for her. The sad reality of Tsunade as a mentor and Tsunade as a Hokage was that the two roles did not go well together.
And above all, Sakura had Inner.
It was Inner who helped her through the most difficult time in her life. Inner listened as she spewed the hurt and anger and betrayal. Inner helped her struggle through the loss of the closeness she and Naruto had shared, the solid foundation turned to sand, blown away by the storm. They spent hours debating about how Kakashi never really taught her anything, too focused on fruitlessly trying to save Sasuke from the brink. What were they thinking, placing her on a team with the last Uchiha and a jinchuuriki? It was a wonder she’d learned anything at all. Together, they forgave Tsunade, who tried as best she could. She just wasn’t able to be the support Sakura needed.
No one was able to fill that role. And that made Sakura realize something.
She didn’t need anyone else. Not Team 7, who never came to visit her; not the hospital nurses, who preferred to gossip about her instead of talking with her; not even Tsunade, to whom the village must always come first.
She had Inner. She had herself. It was enough to deal with whatever came her way.
And if it isn’t, a part of her admitted, she could always punch Lee.
At the start of the ninth week, there was a knock on her door. It took Sakura a minute to place the sound. Someone was actually visiting her?
She opened the door.
“Hey.” Ino’s voice was soft, and her usual insults were nowhere to be found. “I came back from my mission yesterday.” She raised the plastic bag she held in her hand. “I bought ice cream?”
The veil of apathy rippled, a surge of warmth bursting through. Sakura shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling awkward. “Ino.” She opened the door wider. “Come in. It’s… it’s good to see you.”
Soon, they were settled on the couch, ice cream in hand, the TV in the background playing a random sitcom Sakura didn’t really care about. The silence usually so prevalent in her apartment was nowhere to be found as Ino chattered about how she needed to go to the hairdresser, about which cousin had a crush on Shikamaru this week, and how the flower shop had held up during her mission. Sakura listened contently, the presence of her oldest friend starting to push away the loneliness settled in her bones.
“I’ll know what I’ll be doing next week,” Ino concluded. “Dad can’t keep me away from the shop if he tried.” She took a bite of ice cream, then put it down, turning to face her friend. “And how have you been holding up?”
There it was – the dreaded question. Sakura breathed in, then out. “Alright, I guess.” Ino had only been back a day and her life was already more exciting than Sakura’s. “I’ve been training with Lee-san.” She cleared her throat. “With Lee.”
“Lee?” Ino’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you hated him?”
“I never hated him,” Sakura said defensively. “I just… didn’t really know him well. But he hasn’t tried to ask me out for ages, and he’s really good at taijutsu.”
“I’m glad Lee has matured a bit.” A sly glint came into Ino’s eyes. “And all that taijutsu training is good for your figure.”
Sakura snorted, rolling her eyes. “I guess.”
On the TV-screen, one of the characters slipped on a banana peel, then fell to the floor, dragging the table cloth and all that was on it with him. A bout of pre-taped laughter sounded from the speakers.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you earlier.” Ino rubbed her hands. “I was in deep cover, so I only heard the news when I came back.” She hesitated. “I know you still cared about him. Naruto, too. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Grief clawed at Sakura’s throat, making her voice thick and swollen. “Yeah. Thanks.” She looked at Ino, at her eyes that were both kind and determined. The same eyes that once rescued Sakura from her bullies. The same eyes that declared them rivals for Sasuke’s love. “You, too.” Ino looked confused – just for a second, but Sakura knew her too well not to see it. So she elaborated, “You loved him, too.” It was a soothing thing to realize. It was not just Team 7 that lost someone today. “How have you been holding up, Ino?”
Ino’s expression stayed kind and open, but something behind her eyes shuttered. “I’m alright,” she said, just as soft and gentle. “Don’t worry about me.”
Sakura straightened. “What aren’t you telling me, Ino?”
Ino looked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Please. Tell me.”
Ino sighed, her shoulders drooping down. “I did love Sasuke – when I was eleven. It’s been a long time. And…” She looked back at Sakura, her eyes sad. “We shinobi do bad things, Sakura. We lie, we cheat, we kill. In all ways but one, we’re no different from those bandits and missing-nin out there. And that one way is our loyalty to the our village. The bad things we do, we do in protection of our home, of the people we love. Our loyalty to Konoha is the core of what we are.”
Sometimes, it was easy to forget Ino was the heiress of one of Konoha’s most prominent shinobi clans. Other times, it was clear as day.
“Sasuke betrayed us, Sakura. He threw away everything we stand for. The Last Uchiha, throwing himself into Orochimaru’s arms.” The words were almost a snarl. “He tried to kill Naruto, he tried to kill you!” Ino breathed in sharply, rubbing her face in her hands like she regretted her own outburst. “I did love Sasuke, once. But that was long ago. I’m sad he died. I wish it had gone different. But I’m not heartbroken about it. I’m sorry.”
Sakura couldn’t breathe.
Ino placed a hand on Sakura’s knee, leaning closer. “Think of it this way. You’ve been carrying Sasuke with you all your life. You deserve better, Sakura. And now you can mourn, and grieve, and close this chapter of your life behind you. You’re free of the burden of loving a traitor.” She smiled. “You’re free to move on.”
Sakura wanted to scream. How can she say this? She wanted to hyperventilate, or to punch something. She wanted to cry, she wanted to grab Ino by both shoulders and shake her back and forth until she remembered, until she remembered the sweet and caring boy Sasuke had been, how strong and handsome and brave and good he’d been.
But she didn’t. It would accomplish nothing. Ino couldn’t help her. Just like Naruto, and Kakashi, and Tsunade.
So instead, Sakura stayed frozen and still, not breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Ino said, drawing back. She shook her head slightly, muttering softly, “Too much, too soon.” She took a breath and said, louder, “You’re allowed to be broken, Sakura. He was your teammate.” She drew her hand through her hair. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you, okay? I’m your friend.”
Sakura forced herself to breathe, though it felt like she was breathing through a straw. She couldn’t afford to show her true feelings. She couldn’t afford to lose Ino, too.
From the TV came the sound of a door slamming, then a wet splash. Another bout of pre-recorded laughter, fake and hollow.
“Sakura?”
Another breath, and another. “The ice cream is good,” Sakura managed. “Thank you for stopping by. My hospital shift starts soon.”
Ino sighed. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll come by tomorrow again, okay?”
Sakura forced a smile. It didn’t feel convincing. “Tomorrow.”
The day after, Ino visited again. She tried to talk about Sasuke again, but Sakura changed the subject.
The day after, they ate dinner together. Sakura told her about all that happened at the hospital. Just last week, one of the genin had managed to get himself stuck with a tail and arms covered with cat fur. Ino laughed.
Two days later, Ino took her out for lunch. They ordered pancakes, even though Ino was on a diet, and talked about how Hinata and Naruto were finally together. Ino subtly asked about Sasuke, and Sakura said she was doing better.
It was a lie.
During the whole of October, Ino visited six more times. They went shopping, and watched a movie, and chatted about everything and anything but Sasuke. Sakura didn’t bring it up again. She’d learned better.
Ino might not understand, but she tried. Sakura never forgot that she tried.
November passed. She started to work full-time at the hospital again. She told herself this was good. That she was saving hundreds of lives.
Her patients called her ‘pinky’ and tried to make small-talk. At first, most of the gossip was related to Sasuke. The first time an idiot chuunin had asked “You’re the medic that had a crush on that traitor Uchiha, right?” she almost crushed his leg.
Three weeks later was the first time someone made small-talk that was not specifically related to her childhood crush. She was not sure if “You used to be part of Team 7, right?” was better.
December passed. Naruto dropped by. His visit was full of empty silences and empty stares and a third empty mug on the countertop–
He did not visit again.
January passed. Sakura took the holiday shifts and did not visit the graves of her parents.
Ino visited and talked about boys. Sakura could not think of a single thing to say.
February passed. It was fine.
March passed.
By the time Sakura could breathe again, a year had passed.
The last time she’d seen Naruto, he had been holding hands with Hinata. Sakura supposed she was happy for him. He hadn’t visited her in months. Sakura wasn’t sure she minded. It helped her forget something was missing.
She hadn’t visited him, either.
Kakashi dealt with it in his own way, never forgetting but always moving forward. He was an extra hour late to any and all appointments, which Sakura knew through Tsunade’s annoyed mumblings. He never approached her for anything.
Kakashi was more used to loss, in any case.
She went out for lunch with Ino about once a month. They chatted about nothing important. When Ino was gone on a mission, neither of them bothered to reschedule.
Time went on. The people around her fell back into their normal lives. The rumours died down and disappeared. The whispers stopped, as did the stares. Everything had turned back to normal.
Everything had changed.
Day to day, things were fine. Sakura even took a mission or two, if not with the scattered remains of Team 7 but with Team Gai instead.
(If the missions were always ‘Team Gai plus Sakura’ – if there were moments their seamless teamwork felt clunky with the addition of a fifth – if their positive team dynamic made Sakura feel even more lonely – well. When the ‘mission or two’ did not become more, she tried not to feel disappointed.)
Tsunade announced she was taking on Hinata as her new apprentice, and Sakura tried not to feel abandoned as she congratulated them both. Team Gai went on more missions – without her. Sakura took on more responsibilities at the hospital.
Her apartment was still and empty at night.
For a village that was built on teamwork and friendship, it was strange how quickly these things could fade. Sakura was a shinobi of Konoha, but what did that mean? Sasuke died. Team 7 had left her behind, or she had left them behind, or they had fallen apart entirely. It didn’t matter. The result was the same.
Sakura was on her own.
A year and two weeks after Sasuke’s death, Kiba was wheeled into the intensive care for the third time that week. Sakura put on her scrubs and sighed deeply, feeling the monotony settle in her bones even as she counted Kiba’s exposed ones.
As the detached feeling sunk in, she had an epiphany.
She’d lost sight of who she was.
Sakura had become used to standing on the sidelines, unable to keep up with the jinchuuriki and famed Copy-nin. First, it made sense to just… not rush in. To not take an opportunity in battle, because someone else would be faster, anyway. Then, it became easier to stay back, to stay behind, because the others did most of the fighting anyway. She was the support, the medic, the one to patch them up after. And the less she was needed on missions, the easier it was to stay in the hospital, where none but Tsunade could match her skill. And suddenly, she spent her days in the hospital, waiting for the others to come back so she could to snatch them back from the brink of death. When Sakura was young, she used to dream about being the one to stop the danger altogether. Was this really the person she wanted to be? Could she really live the rest of her life as a coward?
Sakura walked out of the operating room with a renewed sense of determination. She was going to find her strength again. She was going to fight again. All this time, she had been driven by her wish to bring Sasuke back and make Team 7 whole again. Now it was time for her to become strong enough to stand next to what was left of her team. Team 7 might be fading away, but she was the one who’d let herself fade.
It was time for that to change.
Time to wake up in the morning with a smile. To stand up for herself and for others. She never wanted to experience anything like Sasuke’s death again. She never wanted to see someone striving mindlessly for revenge. She never wanted another war to break families apart, another invasion to leave children orphaned and alone, another fight to kill someone she loved without her being there to stop it.
Sakura wanted a world where healing people did not mean sending them off to their deaths once more. Where betrayal and loss were not things you got used to before the age of twenty. Where it was so easy for someone to slip through the cracks and be forgotten.
A world where she was loved and respected by those around her.
She was going to belong again.