Through the Long Night
Chapter 9: Through the Long Night
The stillness of the night hung heavy in the room, broken only by the soft, rhythmic beeping of Sarada’s heart monitor. Sasuke sat at her bedside, his exhaustion palpable, yet his eyes never left her small, still form. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, the nasal cannula giving her oxygen with each delicate inhalation, but otherwise, she remained motionless—unresponsive, fragile.
The first few hours in the PICU had been a blur of medical procedures. Nurses entered and exited the room, quietly adjusting the fluids, giving her medicines and checking Sarada’s vitals. Tsunade had been here, too, monitoring her condition closely, her usually unshakable demeanor now softened by the severity of the situation.
Sasuke reached out once more, gently brushing a few strands of Sarada's damp hair away from her forehead. Her skin was still warm to the touch due to the fever, but he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, needing to feel the faint pulse of life in her tiny fingers. He had done everything he could to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.
Naruto and Kakashi sat nearby, exhausted from days of vigil, but even in sleep, they remained alert. Naruto’s head was tilted back against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he fought against sleep, but it was clear he had reached his limit. Kakashi was no better, his expression drawn and tired, but even in his slumber, his body remained tense, always ready for whatever came next.
---
The hours crawled by, the medical team coming and going, but Sasuke never left his daughter’s side. His mind raced with a hundred different thoughts—how had this happened? Who had done this to her? What if the damage was irreversible?
Tsunade entered the room again, this time flanked by two nurses. The nurses moved to the IV drip first, checking the fluids and switching out the bags. Tsunade looked at the bag containing Sarada’s urine. Sasuke’s eyes followed their every movement, his body still but tense.
“We’re keeping her hydrated and monitoring her kidneys,” Tsunade explained quietly, lowering her voice so as not to disturb Kakashi and Naruto. “The dark urine we saw earlier was concerning, but we’re getting a better handle on it now. The fever’s still a bit high—it seems her body’s still struggling to cool down.”
Sasuke’s gaze shifted to Sarada’s small, flushed face. The fever was still there, but it had dropped from a dangerously high 40.7ºC degrees to 39ºC—better, but not ideal. The fever still lingered like a dark cloud over everything, but Tsunade’s calm, steady presence brought him a flicker of hope.
“The concussion’s the main concern now,” Tsunade replied, her voice lowering further. “We’ll be monitoring her closely and keep checking for signs of brain injury. But at least her vitals are holding steady for now. The fact that she hasn’t worsened is a good sign.”
Sasuke clenched his jaw. “Will she be in pain when she wakes up?” His eyes flickered toward his daughter’s face as if seeking answers in her stillness.
Tsunade paused, her brow furrowing slightly. “She’ll likely be disoriented when she regains consciousness. The concussion, combined with her other injuries, will make it hard for her to process things. She might feel pain, especially in her head and leg, but we won’t know until she wakes up. We are giving her painkillers, but we might have to adjust the dosage when we have more information. We’ll do that when she is conscious and tells us how she is feeling.”
Naruto stirred beside him, his voice rough with fatigue as he finally woke from his half-sleep. “She’s strong, Sasuke. She’ll get through this.”
Sasuke didn’t respond immediately. His fingers twitched slightly, brushing across Sarada’s tiny hand again.
---
The hours dragged on, each moment stretching endlessly until, at about 4:00, after what felt like an eternity, Sarada’s small eyelids fluttered. Her hand moved slightly, almost imperceptibly. Sasuke’s breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward instinctively, gripping her hand with newfound urgency, his heart pounding in his chest.
Sarada’s eyes cracked open, but they were unfocused, blinking repeatedly as though trying to clear a fog that wasn’t there. Her surroundings swirled in her vision—blurred shapes and colors that made no sense. Her head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain, the weight of it pressing against her skull, and it only seemed to grow with every passing second. The injury to her head, combined with the fractures in her leg, made her feel as though her body was falling apart. Every movement felt like an agonizing effort. Her muscles screamed for rest, but there was no escape.
She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come—only a dry rasp from her throat. Her mouth was parched, and no matter how much she tried to swallow, it was as though her body wouldn’t listen to her. The only thing that made sense to her was the strange, dizzying sensation that she wasn’t sure where she was or how she’d gotten there. Everything felt wrong—alien. She couldn’t even remember what had happened before she’d been thrust into this state. Tears stung her eyes, though she wasn’t sure if they were from the pain or from the overwhelming confusion.
The sound of a steady beep from the heart monitor grew louder in her ears, like an incessant reminder that she wasn’t just in her bed, safe at home. Her body trembled, cold sweat beading on her forehead. She couldn’t understand why she was so frightened. The sensation of helplessness overwhelmed her, and for a moment, all she could do was cling to the warm sensation she felt near her hand.
Her hand—yes, she could feel it. The fingers wrapped around hers, warm, strong… But she couldn’t even remember whose hand it was. The dizziness made her brain feel sluggish, and her thoughts scattered like broken glass.
Sasuke was the first thing her blurry vision registered. He was there, close to her—his eyes wide with an emotion she couldn’t place. Relief? Fear? His voice was soft, like a distant hum, and yet it felt too loud in her fogged mind. He spoke to her, but the words made no sense. She blinked again, trying to focus on his face. His lips moved, and she could hear his voice, but it was muffled, disconnected from reality.
"Sarada," he whispered, his hand gripping hers with urgency. "It’s okay. You’re safe."
She didn’t recognize that voice and face, but she tried to nod. Yet, her neck wouldn’t obey her. Instead, a sharp pain shot through her head, and her body stiffened. The moment she felt the throb of pain, panic surged through her chest. Why can’t I remember? Why is everything so blurry?
Her vision shifted again—his face becoming a haze, the pain in her leg shooting through her, making her body jerk involuntarily. Her small body trembled harder, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. Every inhale felt like it was too shallow, too frantic.
She wanted to speak, to ask what was happening, to beg for answers—but her mouth felt heavy, like it belonged to someone else. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to understand where she was, but nothing looked familiar. It wasn’t her room. It wasn’t even her home. She felt like she was floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, unable to anchor herself in reality. The machines beeped again, the sound suffocating her thoughts. Am I dreaming? Am I trapped?
Tsunade’s voice broke through the haze, low and calm as she moved swiftly to Sarada’s side. Sarada could only make out vague shapes of Tsunade moving with precision, her hands adjusting something near Sarada’s IV line.
“She’s starting to feel the stress her body’s been through,” Tsunade murmured, her voice steady but filled with concern. “The concussion is causing her disorientation. She needs time to adjust.”
Sasuke’s face remained close, and he whispered again, but this time, Sarada couldn’t even focus on his words. The pain, the confusion, the dizziness—it was all too much. Her body shuddered, her hand gripping his weakly, as if trying to hold onto something solid, something real.
“Shh, it’s okay, Sarada. You’re safe,” Tsunade’s voice was gentle but firm, pulling Sarada back from the brink of panic.
But the panic still gripped her chest. She couldn’t calm herself. She wanted to escape the sensations, the swirling confusion, but her body was betraying her. Every breath felt wrong, too fast, too shallow. Her eyes widened as her breathing became erratic—labored—her small chest heaving for air.
Tsunade’s hands were at work again, adjusting the IV medication that had already started to take effect. Sarada felt something cold, almost soothing, spread through her veins as Tsunade administered a dose of Valium, a sedative that would help calm her anxieties and relax her muscles. Tsunade also adjusted her pain medication to dull the throbbing ache in her leg and head. The medications started to take hold quickly, dulling the edges of her pain and easing the tension in her body.
Sarada’s breathing slowed, becoming less frantic, as the fog in her mind thickened further. It was as though she was being pulled back into unconsciousness. The panic gradually faded, replaced by the comforting sense of warmth and heaviness that followed the sedative. Her grip on Sasuke’s hand loosened, her body no longer trembling with fear and pain.
Sasuke’s gaze softened as he watched his daughter’s distress lessen. He exhaled slowly, his body still tense but relieved.
Naruto, who had stood silently, placed a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. Kakashi, too, stood nearby, his presence a quiet comfort. Sasuke didn’t speak, his focus entirely on Sarada, his hand still gently gripping hers. He couldn’t leave her now—not when she needed him most.
“She’ll probably sleep for 6-8 hours, depending on how she reacts to the medication,” Tsunade continued, her voice soft but firm.
Sasuke nodded, his throat tight, but he didn’t say a word. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side—not now, when she was so fragile, so vulnerable. His eyes were fixed on Sarada’s still form, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend everything that had just happened. His heart ached for his daughter, for everything she had gone through, and for how helpless he felt in the face of it all.
After a long silence, Sasuke’s voice broke through, his tone low and strained. “Tsunade... How long will it take her to recover?”
Tsunade didn’t hesitate, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “It’s hard to say for certain at this point. The next few days are crucial. We’ll continue monitoring her closely to ensure the concussion doesn’t worsen. Her kidneys are another concern, but we’re already on top of that. The fever should continue to drop, and we’ll be keeping her hydrated as best as we can.”
Sasuke exhaled, his hand gently brushing Sarada’s hair away from her face once more. His heart still twisted at the sight of her so vulnerable, but hearing Tsunade’s words gave him a shred of relief. She would heal—he just had to hold on long enough for that to happen.
“Her concussion,” Sasuke continued, his voice still raw with emotion, “how are you monitoring that?”
Tsunade’s eyes softened as she spoke. “We’re basically keeping a close watch on her neurological status. Every few hours, we’ll check her pupils and her response to stimuli. We’ll also keep her in a low-stimulation environment—no loud noises, no bright lights. Right now, she’s too disoriented for cognitive tests to be reliable. Her mind’s still foggy from the concussion, and any testing could be more of a strain than a help. Once she’s more alert and stable, we’ll assess her cognitive function to make sure there’s no lasting damage. For now, the most important thing is to allow her brain to rest and heal.”
Sasuke nodded, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder just how long it would take for Sarada to return to her old self.
“When she is more awake, we’ll try to give her ice chips and see how her stomach deals with it after not having anything for more than 24 hours. So, when she wakes up, I’d like you to inform me so that we can start with this as soon as possible. In the end, the sooner she can drink fluids and keep hydrated, the sooner she’ll leave the PICU room and go home.” Tsunade finished looking seriously at Sasuke.
Naruto, who had been silently observing, sat down once again and shifted in his seat. His exhaustion was evident, but there was a concerned look in his eyes as he spoke up. “Tsunade, what about... mentally? How is something like this going to affect her? She’s just five... Will this experience leave scars on her mind, too?”
Tsunade glanced over at Naruto, her face grave as she considered his question. “Yes, it’s possible,” she said slowly. “The trauma she’s experienced, especially at her age, could manifest in a number of ways. We need to monitor her mental health just as much as her physical recovery. Kids this young often don’t have the words to express what they’ve been through. They internalize a lot of it.”
Sasuke’s brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how Sarada’s young mind would process all of this—the isolation, the pain, the fear.
Tsunade continued, her voice quiet but clear. “In cases like this, PTSD is a very real concern. Children who experience trauma at such a young age may develop symptoms like nightmares, flashbacks, or intense anxiety. They may withdraw from others or become overly clingy. Sarada might not understand what happened to her, and that can be just as damaging as the physical injuries. At her age, she’s still trying to make sense of the world around her, and this kind of event can shake that foundation.”
Naruto let out a quiet sigh, his eyes darkening as he processed Tsunade’s words. “So… does that mean that she might have a hard time trusting people? Or she might be afraid to be alone?”
“That’s a possibility,” Tsunade said, her voice soft with understanding. “It’s important to provide her with a safe environment. Reassurance, gentle care, and time. Children are resilient, but it’ll take time for Sarada to heal emotionally. She’ll need your support. We’ll ask Ino or another Yamanaka to be ready when she’s more alert. We can’t force her to talk, but we can make sure she has the tools she needs to process what happened.”
Sasuke’s throat tightened at the thought of Sarada enduring that kind of emotional trauma, especially after having suffered it due to the Uchiha Massacre.
“She’ll need Sakura,” Sasuke muttered, almost to himself, but Tsunade heard him.
“Yes,” she agreed softly. “Sakura’s presence will be crucial. Sarada’s emotional healing will be much easier with Sakura by her side.”
Sasuke nodded silently, but his heart felt heavy. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, and all he could do was wait—wait for Sakura to return, wait for Sarada to wake up fully, and wait for this nightmare to end.
As the quiet continued to fill the room, a few moments of peace settled around Sasuke, though his mind was still restless, constantly turning over questions and fears. But it was Naruto who broke the silence again, his voice cutting through the stillness.
“Tsunade,” Naruto began, his tone cautious but direct. “At some point, we’ll need to know what happened to Sarada. When will she be able to tell us about the kidnapping? We… We need to understand who did this, what happened to her.”
Tsunade glanced over at Naruto, her eyes serious. She had known this question would come, and she had prepared herself for it. Sasuke, too, looked up, his expression unreadable, though his clenched fist betrayed his growing frustration at not having answers.
“It’s too soon,” Tsunade replied, her voice calm but firm. “She’s still recovering, and we don’t want to push her too hard. Her mind needs to heal just as much as her body does. Asking her to relive what happened could traumatize her further.”
Naruto nodded, understanding, but his brow furrowed in concern. “So... when will she be able to tell us? How long will it take for her to be ready?”
Tsunade’s gaze softened as she answered. “It could take a while. Right now, we need to allow her to regain her strength—physically and mentally. We’ll monitor her closely over the next few days. When she’s more alert and stable, we’ll attempt to talk to her gently. But, and I want you both to understand this—she might not remember everything clearly. She’s young, and trauma can often cloud the memory of what happened.”
Sasuke’s eyes narrowed, his fingers twitching at Sarada’s side. He couldn’t bear the thought of his daughter being in that kind of pain or confusion, and the idea of waiting any longer for answers gnawed at him.
“That means we’ll have to rely on something else,” Sasuke muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for Tsunade to hear. “Could the Mind Reading Technique of the Yamanaka’s be a good option to have more information?”
Naruto looked at Tsunade with a raised brow. “Is that safe? Will it hurt her?”
Tsunade’s gaze darkened slightly as she shook her head. “The technique itself is generally safe, but not for Sarada, not right now. Given her concussion, I don’t want to risk it. Using mind jutsu when someone is already dealing with a head injury—especially in a young child—could make things worse. It could lead to more mental strain. Her brain needs time to heal and stabilize before we consider anything like that.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightened. The idea of waiting even longer for answers while Sarada lay unconscious was unbearable. But he trusted Tsunade’s judgment. If she said it was too soon, then he would wait.
Tsunade continued, her tone more reassuring now. “We’ll have to be patient. The Yamanaka’s technique could be useful later, but not until we know Sarada is stable enough to handle it. It’s better to wait and allow her to heal before putting more pressure on her mind.”
Sasuke exhaled slowly, the words sinking in. He hated the uncertainty, but he understood. For now, they had to trust that Sarada’s recovery would guide them toward the answers they needed.
“We’re not abandoning the investigation, but right now, Sarada’s health comes first. We’ll handle things as they come. When she’s ready, we’ll be there to support her through it. But we need to focus on her recovery first.” Sasuke swallowed, still unsure of how long they’d have to wait for answers.
The night stretched on, quiet once more, but the weight of everything still pressed down on Sasuke’s chest. He wasn’t sure when Sakura would arrive, but the thought of her being by Sarada’s side soon brought him a faint comfort. For now, all he could do was wait, pray for Sarada’s recovery, and do whatever he could to help her through this.
---
Sakura leaned forward slightly, looking at the horizon whilst the ink hawk soared through the cool night sky. The dark expanse of the desert below seemed endless, but it was the endless feeling of worry inside her chest that stretched on even further. She couldn’t believe it—the moment she had feared ever since she had been informed of Sarada’s kidnapping had arrived. Her daughter was in critical condition in a hospital back in Konoha.
The world felt like it was moving too fast, yet she felt completely out of control. They had left Suna only hours ago, barely enough time to grasp the gravity of the situation before Sai used Chōjū Giga and created the hawks that had lifted them into the sky. The team, who had been with her on this mission, was now quiet and focused. Shino, Kiba, and Sai were all equally determined, flying beside her. Akamaru’s tail flicked in the wind, his ears perked as if sensing the tense atmosphere around them.
The cool night air hit her face, but it didn’t do much to calm the whirlwind in her mind. Sarada. Her precious Sarada. What happened? She wanted to scream it into the sky, but she knew the answer was still far away. Why was she taken?
Even though she had already received Tsunade’s report, it wasn’t enough. She needed to be there. Her thoughts were consumed by her daughter’s injuries—concussion, heat stroke, fractures, bruises—what was the kidnapping like for Sarada? Had she been scared? Did she call for her? How is she doing in hospital? Is she in pain? She clutched her fists tighter, the guilt threatening to consume her.
The news of Sarada’s condition had shaken her to the core. Sasuke had been there, but he wasn’t enough. Sarada had needed her mother. She needed to be there. But all she could do was trust that Tsunade, along with the medical team, was doing everything they could. Please, let her be okay. Let her recover.
Sai, always the perceptive one, glanced over at her. “You’re worried,” he said simply, his voice cutting through the silence between them. He didn’t ask—it was just a statement. He already knew.
Sakura glanced at him, her eyes tired and distant. “Of course, I’m worried.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held herself together. “She’s my daughter.”
Sai nodded, his expression calm, but there was a note of understanding in his eyes. “She’ll be okay, Sakura.”
Sakura could only offer a small, tight-lipped smile in response. Sai’s words didn’t completely settle the storm inside her, but she appreciated the sentiment. Everyone seemed so calm—so collected. She envied that calmness.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Sasuke. What was he feeling right now, standing beside Sarada’s bed in the PICU, watching her lie there so still, unable to do anything to help? Sasuke had always been good at hiding his emotions, but she knew him better than anyone. She could sense the guilt he must have been carrying with him. He’d be blaming himself for not being there. For not being able to protect their daughter when she needed him the most.
I’ll be there for him. For both of them.
Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, letting the wind blow through her hair, trying to calm the thoughts racing through her mind. She thought of their home in Konoha—thought of the days when Sarada had been so full of life, running through the halls with energy, her laugh echoing around the house.
"How long until we reach Konoha?" Sakura asked, her voice breaking through the quiet night air.
Sai glanced ahead, his expression unreadable but his focus sharp. "At this pace, about 36 hours. We’ll make it there faster than usual.”
Sakura nodded, trying to push aside the knot of worry in her chest. The sooner they could get back, the better. I need to be there. I need to see her with my own eyes. The only thing she could do now was wait. And pray. Stay strong, Sarada, she thought desperately. Just hold on. We’ll be there soon.
---
Back in Konoha, Tsunade stood by the bedside, her expression focused, watching the young girl’s steady, shallow breaths. The nasal cannula seemed to be helping her oxygen levels remain stable. Her fever had dropped, staying steady at 38°C, much to the relief of Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi and the medical team.
“Sarada’s condition is improving,” Tsunade said, her voice calm but carrying the weight of experience. “Her kidney function is still not ideal, but I think that will change when she starts drinking and eating.”
Meanwhile, Sarada’s eyes remained closed, her small body still and sedated from the valium they had administered to help manage the stress her body had endured. For now, she was safe, in a state of deep rest, which was what Sarada needed most.
“She’s doing better than expected, but don’t get too comfortable,” Tsunade said, her tone quieter now. “We still have a long road ahead.”
Tsunade turned to leave the room, but before she could make it to the door, Kakashi’s eye crinkled slightly as he gave her a small nod of acknowledgment.
“I’ll be back to check on her later,” Tsunade said, stepping aside. “We’re stabilizing her, but we’ll need to keep a close eye on everything. I also suggest all of you to rest while she’s sleeping.”
Kakashi hesitated for a moment. “You should take a rest too, Tsunade. We can manage.”
Tsunade didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze back toward Sarada. “Rest doesn’t come easily when you’re responsible for someone’s life, Kakashi. Not right now.”
Kakashi sighed but said nothing more. He knew better than anyone that some things just couldn’t be left behind, not even for rest.