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Sakura cries out in pain as her back hits the ground for the seventh time that day. The breath knocked out of her, she lays there in the grass staring up at the sky as she waits for the world to stop spinning.
“Ow,” she mutters, which is a massive understatement.
A hand appears in front of her, blocking her view of the sun. After bracing herself a moment, she reaches out to clasp it, allowing herself to be pulled back to her feet. Her entire body hurts.
“Sorry, Sakura-chan,” Lee says. “I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”
Sakura winces as she rotates the shoulder she landed badly on. “No harder than any of the other times,” she tells him, brushing off her white shorts. They’re now hopelessly grass-stained. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault I’m useless.”
Lee frowns. “That’s not true! You’re getting a lot better!”
“Better at getting knocked down, maybe.”
“Well…that’s not so bad. Knowing how to fall is… an important skill.”
Sakura sighs, sitting down in the grass next to her water canteen a few feet away. “Gee, thanks.”
The afternoon air is abnormally muggy for November. Sakura’s hair is pulled into a ponytail, stray strands sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck. Lee is in his normal attire, and somehow isn’t sweating. She eyes him in envy as she gulps down a few mouthfuls of water.
They’re at one of the training grounds, as they’ve been almost every day for the past two weeks—since Sakura was deemed recovered enough from her surgery to resume training. It’s been a whole month since she was nearly killed by Orochimaru—since Sasuke sacrificed his own eyes and Naruto destroyed half a forest trying to keep them safe. They’ve all been recovering, physically and mentally.
Since then, Lee’s agreed to train her in taijutsu. Because of Orochimaru’s poison, her chakra network has been corroded beyond repair. But Sakura refuses to give up her dream of becoming a shinobi—especially now that she’s only just realized what it means to be one.
Sakura recalls the sharp pain of fangs piercing her skin. She resists the urge to touch the side of her throat. The marks are still there.
Lee sits down next to her in the grass. “Maybe we should take a break for a couple of days. Give your body a rest.”
“I’m fine,” Sakura insists, despite the way every muscle in her body aches. Bruises upon bruises from days of training layered on top of each other. “I don’t need a break, I need to get stronger.”
Listen to her—I need to get stronger. She sounds like Sasuke now. Or rather, what Sasuke used to sound like, before—
(“I tried to kill myself.”)
—before everything.
“You will get stronger,” Lee tells her. “But you won’t improve if you just wear yourself down. Trust me—Gai-sensei is always lecturing about training too hard. Which, personally, I don’t think is fair since Kakashi-sensei is always lecturing him…”
Sakura smiles slightly. She’s very familiar with her sensei’s opinion on overtraining. Usually it’s Sasuke who is on the receiving end of that lecture.
She knows that Lee is right. Training too hard isn’t going to benefit her, it will only hurt her. But with each day that passes, she feels more and more hopeless. She feels she’s never going to be able to get past what Orochimaru did to her. Her teammates are sure to realize this soon—they’ll all leave her behind.
Staring at their backs, Sakura thinks, blinking away the slight stinging in her eyes. Never standing with them. Always, always staring at their backs.
“This is useless,” Sakura says. She stares at the ground to avoid looking at Lee’s face, twisting strands of grass around her fingers. “I’m useless. You’re wasting your time trying to help me.”
Lee looks almost angry at the words. “Don’t talk about yourself like that! And don’t ever believe you can’t do something!”
Though the words don’t do much to curb her self-doubt, she is warmed by them. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“I really don’t mind helping you, Sakura-chan! Trust me, you can’t give up on something just because it’s hard!”
Sakura’s eyes flicker down to his crossed legs—the legs that were completely shattered a mere month ago, that he once had no hope of walking on again. “Like you,” she says. “With your legs.”
A shadow passes over Lee’s face at the memory. Sakura feels guilty for bringing it up, but his expression quickly clears. “Yeah, with my legs. But that was mostly Tsunade-sama’s doing. I meant… my entire life as a shinobi. I’ve had to struggle so hard and for so long to get where I am right now. No one ever believed I could achieve my dream—not until Gai-sensei.”
Sakura smiles. “But you proved them all wrong.”
“Exactly!” Lee leans forward and grabs her hands, startling her with his sudden exuberance. He smiles widely, the sun reflecting off his teeth. “That’s what I’m trying to say! I didn’t give up, so neither should you! If your dream is to be a shinobi, then do it! Have faith in yourself!”
Sakura blinks. And something about his voice—about the certainty and belief on his face—makes her want to listen to him. She feels her insecurity waver, just a bit. Have faith in yourself.
A part of her doesn’t want to be uplifted by his speech. She’s been viciously attacked and her chakra will never be the same. It isn’t fair, and she wants her time to wallow in misery and self-pity. She deserves it. Why should she be expected to immediately stand back up without stumbling?
But Lee’s words are as inspirational as always, and the feeling infects her.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Sakura stands back up on her feet, ignoring the throb of her muscles as she does. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go again.”
Lee frowns disapprovingly, also standing. “I just told you to take a break!”
“Yeah, but then you gave me that inspirational speech.” He huffs, and she smiles at him. “One more time. Then I promise to go home to rest.”
“Fine,” Lee says. “One more time. Raise your fists. Okay, on three—one, two…”
Sakura doesn’t go home. Her parents will be there, and she doesn’t have the energy to deal with them. Instead, she takes the path to Naruto’s house.
Her clothes are covered in dirt. Her bones are aching and she knows it will only feel worse tomorrow. But it’s a good ache this time, a good hurt, because she feels like she’s accomplished something. Even if that something is as miniscule as remaining on her feet for ten minutes.
Small victories, she reminds herself.
Naruto’s house is a small, nondescript building not far from the Academy. It’s not much bigger than an average apartment. The first thing she hears when she reaches it is arguing—a familiar sound to her ears by now. She has to knock three times before she’s heard over the noise.
The arguing stops. There’s the sound of someone shuffling around inside, and then the door swings open. Naruto’s irritated expression instantly transforms into a smile.
“Sakura-chan!”
She smiles. “Hey, Naruto.”
Her teammate opens the door wider to let her inside. Almost immediately, she trips over a pile of dirty clothes right near the door and barely manages to keep her balance. Naruto winces, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Sorry about the mess… I’ve been meaning to clean this place up…”
“No you haven’t.” Sasuke is standing amidst the mess with a scowl on his face, arms crossed. “I’ve been telling you to clean it up. You’ve ignored me and have continued treating your apartment like a giant garbage bin.”
“It’s not that bad!”
“You have ramen wrappers in the shower!”
“I was hungry!”
“In the shower, Naruto!”
Sakura wrinkles her nose at her blonde teammate. “Naruto, seriously?”
“See what I have to deal with,” Sasuke says.
Naruto sputters before pinning the other boy with an accusing glare. “See if I ever let you stay in my house again!”
“As if I would ever want to.” Sasuke kicks at a dirty bowl near his feet with an expression of disgust. “I can’t wait to get out of here. When I get my own place, you’re not invited over.”
“What?! After I opened my home to you—”
“Sleeping on the street would’ve been the better choice.”
“Bastard!”
Sakura bites back on the laugh that wants to escape her as she watches them argue. Living together has clearly improved their relationship, she thinks.
She’s impressed they’ve lasted so long living in the same space. Kakashi predicted one of them would be dead within the week; but it’s been nearly a month now, and here both of them are still in one piece.
“—to me about filthy! Sakura’s the one who’s covered in dirt!”
Sakura focuses back on their words when she hears her name. Her eyes narrow on Naruto. “What did you just say about me?”
“He said you look horrible and filthy,” Sasuke says. “Also, you’re dirtying his pristine living room.”
“I did not! Sakura-chan, that isn’t what I said!”
Sakura scowls at him and brings her fist down hard on his head. Unfortunately, she’s still weak from training, so the punch doesn’t do much damage.
“Ow! Sakura-chan, that’s abusive! You’re abusing me, I’m telling Kakashi-sensei—”
Sasuke smirks. “He’ll say ‘good job’ and pat her on the head.”
Naruto kicks at him, but Sasuke steps easily out of the way. Naruto slips on a dirty cereal bowl, and Sasuke snorts as he falls onto the floor.
Eventually, the two of them settle down and stop jabbing at each other with every sentence. Sakura finds herself sitting on the couch next to Sasuke, with Naruto in the armchair across from her. Naruto has gotten a pack of instant ramen to heat up, and is now slurping it up.
Sasuke stares at him in disgust. Naruto notices and offers the bowl to him. “Want some?”
The dark-haired boy scowls, pushing the bowl away. “Disgusting. Chew with your mouth closed.”
Naruto sticks his tongue out like a five-year-old. He finishes chewing—his mouth still open, just to be petty—before turning to Sakura.
“How’s your training with Lee going? Has he given you your own green jumpsuit yet?”
Sasuke smirks slightly. Sakura rolls her eyes.
“Very funny,” she says. “It’s going fine. It’s a slow progress and it’s really frustrating, but I think I’m improving.”
“That’s good,” Sasuke says. “Once you’re better, we can start going on missions again.”
Sakura winces guiltily. It’s her fault their team hasn’t been active since Orochimaru. Both Naruto and Sasuke have recovered—she’s the only one who’s still useless.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
Sasuke frowns. “That isn’t—I wasn’t blaming you. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
Naruto rolls his eyes. “Oh, not this again.”
Sasuke glares at him. “Shut up. Orochimaru was after me. It’s my fault that he—”
“We’re a team. If he was after you, he was after us. Seriously, stop with the ‘it’s all my fault’ crap—it’s super annoying, not to mention out of character. Since when are you so self-pitying?”
Sasuke continues to glare at him, though he seems more annoyed than angry. The jinchuuriki’s words seem to actually have an effect, because he doesn’t try to argue with anything that was said. “Whatever. Loser.”
“Jerk.”
Sakura ducks her head and hides her smile.
Naruto and Sasuke are the same as always—but at the same time, they’re not. They still bicker constantly, never miss an opportunity to jab at the other or start an argument; but everything about it feels so much friendlier now, harmless poking at each other where their words used to be filled with real anger and vitriol.
They still won’t admit that they’re friends, will deny it vehemently if anyone dares to suggest it—but they both know that they are.
Sakura feels like she’s changed, too. She appreciates both her teammates now equally. And, okay, maybe her heart still flutters sometimes when the sun hits Sasuke in a certain way—but regardless of her feelings, he’s still her friend.
Sakura turns her head to look at Sasuke. Her eyes linger on the deep scar between his eyes—then fall to the much-fainter line at his throat.
She feels horrible whenever she looks at it, like a stone has dropped into her stomach. When she imagines Sasuke alone in the forest, holding a blade to his own neck—Orochimaru’s cruelty and greed the only thing that saved him.
(She’s kept her promise. She hasn’t told Kakashi. Sasuke’s shown no signs of feeling suicidal again, but she still worries keeping quiet is a mistake.)
The conversation has died away now. Sakura bites her lip, wanting to approach the subject poking at her mind with the most sensitivity and cautiousness possible. Sasuke is often like a cornered animal when dealing with matters that have left him with scars—he lashes out and then runs.
“How… is everything with your brother? I know he’s still staying in the hospital. Has anything changed?”
Sasuke’s jaw clenches, a shadow passing over his face. But he doesn’t snap at her, which is a good sign. “He’s being pardoned. Next week.”
There’s a loud clang as Naruto drops his chopsticks. “Wait, what?”
His reaction makes it clear he knew nothing about this either. A month of living together, Sakura thought Sasuke might have told Naruto more about the situation surrounding Itachi. But it seems not.
Sasuke’s older brother remains a complete mystery to her. Sasuke hasn’t spoken about it at all, beyond telling them quite harshly to drop it, and due to recent circumstances, they’ve respected his wishes. They’ve asked Kakashi about it, but all he’s told them is that much of the situation is classified information—and that if Sasuke wants to talk about it, they should let him do it on his own time.
Itachi saved possibly all of their lives that night with Orochimaru. He gave Sasuke his own eyes. And Sakura knows that Sasuke’s perception of him has changed—the hatred in his eyes when his brother’s name is mentioned has been replaced by a complicated, torn expression she’s unable to read.
Sakura can’t understand it. He tortured Sasuke. He killed his entire family.
“Tsunade-sama’s pardoning him?” she says, mirroring Naruto’s incredulity. “After what he did to you—to your—”
“It’s complicated,” Sasuke says. His tone has developed a sharp edge.
“What’s complicated about it?” Naruto demands, a master at ignoring subtle cues to shut up. He bashes through sensitive subjects like a wrecking ball. “I know he saved your life. But he still killed your parents—”
“He didn’t want to.”
The words seem to escape him accidentally. Sasuke immediately presses his lips together after he says them, his hands curling into fists against his knees.
Sakura and Naruto share a confused look.
“What do you mean?” she asks quietly.
Sasuke doesn’t answer. He’s staring down at the floor, but seems to be seeing something else. But it isn’t like those times when his eyes will go unfocused, when he’s flashing back to terrible memories—his eyes are troubled, but they’re clear.
Naruto makes a frustrated face. Sakura pins him with a sharp look before he can open his mouth. Don’t. Give him a moment.
Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Sasuke raises his head. “Itachi didn’t want to kill anyone,” he repeats.
Sakura frowns. “…Okay. Then why did he?”
“Konoha ordered it.”
Slowly, the story comes out of him. He tells it with his eyes locked on his lap, and often as if the words are being unwillingly pulled from his mouth. Sakura feels her worldview shift as she listens, uncomprehending and speechless. It’s unbelievable, it’s absurd, and yet… never once does Sakura consider that he’s telling them anything but the truth.
Years of ostracization resulting in a planned coup d’état, which led to a horrible, horrible order. Carried out by a young boy—Sasuke makes sure to emphasize this point: “He was thirteen, Sakura!”—and then five years undercover in a criminal organization.
When he’s finished the story, he’s silent. His hands are shaking, balled into fists against his knees.
Sakura says nothing. What can she say? Her mind spins.
“No,” Naruto breathes, after what feels like a long while. He shakes his head, eyes wide. “No, that—that can’t be true…”
Sasuke’s head snaps up, anger immediately present in every line of his body. “Are you saying I’m lying?!”
“No!” the jinchuuriki says quickly. “That’s not—I don’t think you’re lying! But maybe you’ve just—you had to have misunderstood something! Jii-chan—Jii-chan wouldn’t—”
“It’s true! I’m not misunderstanding anything!”
“Is Itachi the one who told you this? You can’t trust him!”
Sasuke shoves himself up from the couch with an ugly snarl. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me! Forget it, I’m out of here—”
Sakura feels a burst of panic. “Sasuke-kun! Wait!” She jumps up and grabs his wrist, despite knowing it isn’t a good idea—despite the fact that Sasuke’s body language right now is practically screaming don’t touch me.
Sure enough, Sasuke pulls his arm away as if her hand is an electrical wire. He’s storming over to the door, kicking irritably at the piles of dirty laundry in his way.
Sakura shoots Naruto an urgent look. Idiot! Stop him!
The jinchuuriki jumps up—nearly tripping and face-planting on the floor—and slams his hand down on the door just as Sasuke yanks it opens. It slams shut, and Sasuke spins around with an infuriated face.
“Naruto—!”
“I’m sorry,” Naruto says quickly. “I believe you, okay? Please don’t leave.”
Sasuke turns and looks at the blonde for a long moment. Finally, he huffs and lets go of the doorknob, crossing his arms across his chest. “Fine.”
Sasuke stomps back over to the seat next to her on the couch, though he still looks pissed off. Naruto winces under his glare.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Okay? It’s just, Jii-chan—Old Man Hokage—he was one of the few people who was nice to me as a kid. He used to visit me to make sure I was okay… and he’s the one who convinced Iruka-sensei to talk to me… I can’t understand how he would let something like that happen to your family. It’s horrible.”
Sakura still doesn’t know what to say. If she feels sick with the information she just learned… how must Sasuke be feeling? She watches his hands flex in his lap, the clench of his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes…
Her eyes catch on his bare forehead. Something clicks into place for her. Oh.
“That’s why you stopped wearing your headband,” she realizes. “You didn’t actually lose it, did you?”
Sasuke startles slightly, looking up at her. Realization comes over Naruto’s face, too. Ever since their confrontation with Orochimaru, Sasuke hasn’t worn his forehead protector. He claimed he had lost it in the forest that night; but if that was true, he could’ve easily replaced it by now.
Sasuke’s nails dig into the back of his hand. “No,” he says quietly—as if he could be punished for admitting this small thing out loud. “I didn’t lose it.”
How must Sasuke be feeling about Konoha? Sakura wonders. She feels a shiver of fear go through her. Does… does he even want to be here now?
Sakura shoves the thought away to worry about later. “So your brother… they’re really pardoning him completely, then?”
“Not officially yet. Danzo,” Sasuke’s eyes flash with hatred at the name, “is getting a trial. Itachi’s expected to testify. Everything will become public then. In the meantime, he’s been giving loads of information on the Akatsuki.”
“Have you been to see him again? Since… everything?”
Sasuke’s mouth thins. “No.”
There it is again—that conflict in his eyes when Itachi is mentioned. Finally, Sakura is able to actually understand it. She doesn’t know how to feel about the man now, either. Everything she’s just been told is too terrible to imagine—to think he’d been forced to kill his own parents when he was the same age as they are now.
But also, she remembers how small and still Sasuke looked on that hospital bed. The bruise around his throat in the shape of fingers.
Itachi did that to him.
Naruto is unusually silent. Clearly, he’s having a horrible time accepting this information. Sakura knows now how terribly her teammate was treated growing up—and the unjust reasons for that treatment. If the Third Hokage really was one of the few people who was kind to him… this must be hurting him.
Naruto’s an orphan, too. To think that the man he so admired is partially responsible for making his friend one…?
Sakura looks at him in concern. Are you okay? she tries to ask silently.
She doesn’t want to ask the question out loud. Sasuke can quickly become angry in moments like these—moments where he’s let himself be vulnerable. She doesn’t want him to take offense.
Naruto offers her a small smile. Yeah. Thanks.
He turns to Sasuke, his eyes flickering briefly to his headband-less forehead. “Whatever you decide about Itachi… about Konoha… we’ll be right there with you.”
Sasuke blinks, staring at him in surprise. “You… really?”
“Of course, bastard.”
“What if I decide I hate it here? You want to be Hokage, don’t you?”
Naruto shrugs. “Not without my friends. That includes you, asshole.”
Sakura smiles. “Like he said. Except the asshole part.”
Sasuke stares, speechless. Naruto breaks the emotional moment by throwing up his arms, shouting, “Group hug!” and lunging forward.
“Wha—!” Sasuke sputters as Naruto latches onto him. “Moron! Get off me! I let you hug me one time, and now you suddenly think that—!”
Sakura listens to the familiar sounds of the two of them bickering. Warmth blooming in her chest, she smiles.