Chapter 5
“You get where I’m going with this,” Kakashi sighs, “though I must say, for someone who almost got thrown into prison, you don’t look one bit apologetic.”
“That would be because I’m not.”
Sasuke knew his actions would have repercussions but he hadn’t expected it to arrive this quick. He was summoned to the Hokage’s office this morning, and the need for this urgent meeting was quite obvious. He had expected to get reprimanded by Kakashi—usually not a hassle since it won’t be a first-time experience—and be on his way after about an hour. But both of these assumptions have turned out to be wrong. The minute hand of the clock in the office has already completed a round and Kakashi seems least troubled by his actions. He only observes Sasuke with mild delight and a lot of curiosity. He conducts the conversation like an experiment, throwing in statements and waiting to see how Sasuke will react. Then again, that’s how he has always been.
“He’d be better suited for prison,” Sasuke mumbles his thought aloud.
“Is that so?” It’s only when a sly smile creeps up on Kakashi’s masked face that Sasuke realizes his mistake.
“What is it?” He raises a question in return for one, an attempt to withdraw from the ambiguous remarks, “Surely, there’s some sort of penalty?”
“Ah,” the Hokage raises a hand, “you’re right. You’re only allowed on C-rank missions for two months.”
“Two mo-”
“There are five injured men in the hospital who will tell you how lucky they are to escape with only broken bones. And there’s a sixth man on whom you performed Genjutsu—the same man whose grandfather—fortunately for you—is in the advisory council,” Kakashi drops his straight sarcastic face and sighs, “They already know I’m playing favorites, Sasuke. This is the most I can do for you.”
Sasuke’s immediate thought is to leave, leave Konoha, and go somewhere he won’t be found. When he notices that they might reach him, flee again. But what then? The village suddenly feels suffocating. Although he never planned to depart hitherto, he was aware of the option, the freedom of having a choice. Now it is as though he can almost smell the steel of the bars put around him, binding him against his will.
“How lucky are you!” Kakashi exclaims, obliviously interrupting Sasuke’s train of thought, “Because I have a plan.”
Sasuke meets his eyes. He has known this man since the time the only thing he excelled at was kunai throwing. And he knows cleverness to run through his veins. Sasuke waits for the Hokage to speak. The silence is short-lived, broken by a knock on the door which brings out a grin on Kakashi’s satisfied face.
“Right on time,” he mutters before excusing the visitor. The door opens to reveal Shikamaru holding a scroll in his hands.
“I believe you have done what is necessary.”
“I have, Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru says as he walks in. Sasuke is a silent spectator when Shikamaru turns to face him.
“There was no discussion about the number of missions you must complete within the given period,” he says, “so we decided to give you just one that lasts for two months.”
“What C-rank mission do you have that lasts for two whole months?” Sasuke’s eyes search Kakashi’s face but there is no reaction save for a shrug. Shikamaru steps forward and offers him the scroll. Sasuke scans both the scroll and the bearer before accepting it. With a tug using his sole hand, the roll of parchment comes loose and he’s already going through its contents. The Hokage himself seems extremely pleased when Sasuke’s now widened eyes shoot back at him.
“This-”
“You’re dismissed.”
Sasuke reads the scroll a second time before tucking it inside his cloak. One look at Kakashi is enough for him to make out that their conversation will not be continued. The man closes his eyes, letting his silver head fall back onto his chair on which he turns around. Helpless, Sasuke reaches for the door. Kakashi’s voice comes from behind when he opens it. “And Sasuke,” he says, “do something about it.”
His body halts with one hand still on the handle.
“About what?”
“You already know what I’m talking about.” The usual sarcasm in his tone has died. Sasuke looks over his shoulder to see the back of the chair on which his old teacher sits.
“No,” he says, “I don’t.”
The door slams shut behind the Uchiha. His confidence wavers when he thinks of what answer he would have given had the question been asked to his face. Perhaps this handicap is a consequence of the time he has spent with the silver-haired man beyond the door, he is still not sure.
The Hokage of the Leaf village sits staring at the view outside his office for a while even after his old student has left the room. The village that rests within his hands stares back at him. A smile decorates his face—the genuine one that an exclusive copy of an all-time favorite book can bring out.
—
There has been an uproar of rumors audible from every corner, every nurse station, and every vending machine.
Kaito didn’t even do anything.
I was so scared!
I heard he cheated on her.
Don’t go near the Uchiha.
I’m sure he had a reason.
People who assume themselves to be in a close relationship with her are brave enough to confront her but the others retreat to curious glances. But no matter the nature of gossip, its inherent quality of being substitutable does not allow it to cling on for long. Within a couple of days, the fire has subsided, and with more to occupy the minds of the people of Konoha, Sakura’s role as the protagonist comes to an end.
Sunlight grows weaker with each afternoon nearing the coming winter. Sakura has to check the time after leaving surgery to make sure it’s still the middle of the day. She stretches in front of the operation theatre, going over her duties one by one. Rounds. She has to go on rounds. She picks up the clipboard from the nurse's station before leaving. Akane, the red-haired Nurse who is her usual accompaniment, trails behind her with one of her own.
“Where to next, Akane-san?”
“Room 434, Doctor,” Akane goes over her clipboard, “Oh and our request has been addressed”
“Ah, the Chunin?” Sakura says as they make their way toward the room. Akane reads and rereads the papers, frowning in confusion. Sakura stops in front of a metal plate with the number 434 engraved on it to tilt her head backward to the nurse caught in visible frustration.
“Something wrong?” She asks before opening the door.
“It says here that we got a Genin.”
“Does it?” Sakura steps back to view the sheet herself. Sure enough, Akane was not lying. Hospital requests are normally processed with high accuracy, making mistakes such as this very rare. A mental note to check up on the genin is already made when she reaches for the handle and turns it, “must be a fairly skilled Genin, then,” she says as the door clicks open. Akane, who seems satisfied with the reply presses the clipboard to her chest and waits for the Doctor to move from the threshold. But she doesn’t.
It is only when the nurse calls her a second time that Sakura realizes that she has been standing frozen for ten seconds.
“Good afternoon,” she says immediately, trying to sound as professional as she can. Uchiha Sasuke stands across the room, his gesture of greeting almost incomprehensible. His hand is deep in his pocket as he leans on the wall next to the bed. The patient lying on the bed unconscious is an A-rank criminal who was admitted the night before. Normally, Chunins are appointed for bodyguard duties based on the rank of the criminals who are getting treated at the hospital due to the prison infirmary’s limitations to heal more serious injuries.
No distractions. She repeats it in her head when she says, “You must be the assigned bodyguard.”
Sasuke meets her eyes with an icy gaze, “Yes.”
Sakura nods, looking through the records. She can feel the nurse’s eyes on her when she walks towards the bed. Sasuke straightens himself and pulls his arm out in her sudden proximity. It is only after she confirms that everything is running smoothly while checking the papers a second time that the intrusive thoughts kick in. With her gaze fixed on her clipboard, her mind wanders. It’s obvious that his presence here is a punishment. The only Uchiha heir won’t be appointed on guard duty because it is a fun sight. Is it her fault he got involved in all of this mess? She knows what transpired. Amidst everything else that has been going on, getting it out of the men who were admitted with Kaito was the easiest task.
No. She’s not responsible for his actions—his unnecessary actions; meaningless actions. Yet Sasuke doesn’t-
“Dr. Haruno? Is there something wrong with the charts?”
“Ah,” she straightens the already flat parchment with her palm, “no.”
Pathetic. That’s how she feels. When she saw Kaito, frail as an insect that had been stepped on, she was sure of how she felt. Sasuke’s actions were needless and his intervention was most uncalled-for. She is not going to be grateful to him but despising him for his involvement seems impossible. She does not want to despise him. Sakura instead wanted nothing to do with him although that is now a hopeless want. She said he would be the last person to know anything about her. The words had escaped her effortlessly as if they had been waiting to be uttered. But did she mean it? Was she right even if she did?
When Sakura makes her way out of the room, Sasuke meets her gaze only to immediately drop it before the door closes behind her.
The next day proceeds in a similar fashion. Their meeting in the morning is brief: his mismatched eyes are always far away like he’s watching a world she cannot access. The office in Sakura’s clock shows 9 pm when she packs her unzippable bag and heads out. On reaching the reception, she is unavoidably pulled into a discussion.
“Dr. Haruno, do you think the first snow will be tonight?” One of her co-workers points to the glass door of the hospital, “It definitely looks like it will.”
“I think it’s going to be tomorrow.” Another says.
Sakura notices for the first time in a while, the view outside the door. She opines that there’s an equal chance for any day this week and rushes out to the courtyard. The night feels like it's pregnant with magic as if it hides colors unimaginable behind the facade of darkness.
“Dr. Haruno?” She turns to see Akane behind her, just as happy to be able to make it home tonight.
“Going home?”
“Yes, but I have to get some pain-relief patches for Asahi first.”
At Sakura’s confusion, Akane clarifies, “Asahi is my boyfriend,” even in the dark, she can make out the tint of blush coloring the nurse’s cheeks, “he’s on bodyguard duty too.”
The duty is rotated every two days by a couple of Chunins because the mission as a whole usually lasts for more than a month. Underestimating the skills of the prisoner in treatment and appointing low-skilled ninjas or letting them deviate from the strict schedule has resulted in problems in the past which, in the end, required the skills of Jonins to resolve.
“He says pain-relief patches do wonders when he’s on duty,” the nurse continues, “especially for his neck and- I’m sorry I’m rambling.” Her face flushes more evidently.
Sakura only smiles in return to not embarrass her further.
“Dr. Haruno!” Akane regards her in wide-eyed resolution, “You should get one for the genin.”
“What?”
Akane nods, “I could tell you know each other. You should get one for him.”
“N-no,” Sakura puts up a grin, “we are…not that close.”
Akane’s satisfaction with the retort allows her to wave Sakura goodbye and walk off in the opposite direction.
Not that close, Sakura ponders the phrase while walking home.
Not that close, Sakura is still pondering the same phrase as she stares at the painkiller aisle in a pharmacy instead of going home. The packets on the display within her arm's reach seem oceans away and her hands feel unreasonably heavy when she thinks of grabbing one. Sakura weighs and reweighs all the reasons to leave the pharmacy and sink into the comfort of her bed, letting the consoling oblivion of sleep take her. She can abandon this memory. She can pretend as if she never hesitated.
“May I help you?” The pharmacist stands right behind her.
“Er-” she tears her eyes away from the display, “No. Thank you.”
The pharmacist still calls back the same two words as Sakura exits the store, even though she has made no purchase.
The next day, Akane is beaming, readier than ever to start the rounds. The atmosphere inside the room is completely different in Sasuke’s absence. While Sakura goes through the charts, although the nurse has been attentive in all of her duties, Akane can’t help but pass knowing glances to the bodyguard who looks away every two seconds, shyness claiming him with a blush that only grows brighter with time. Akane and her boyfriend exchange praises for their good work while the nurse hands him a cover. Sakura finds it impossible not to smile at their awkwardness in her presence.
The anticipatory debate on the appearance of the first snow is consistent to this day. Sakura stands firm in her initial opinion when her coworkers assembled at the nurse station ask her a second time. A few of them tease Akane for her new enthusiasm for rounds and enquires about the cover she carried.
“Asahi says his back begins to hurt after the first day. You know how-”
The tide of the conversation goes beyond Sakura’s focus. Later, she finds herself on the same aisle she stood the night before. Pain-relief patches come in handy in many situations. She has been neglecting the strain on her shoulders herself. Perhaps she won’t give it to him. It is the reminder that she is not obliged to offer him her supplies and that it can just be like any other possession that finally makes her grab a few packets.
–
The Chunin who alternates with him is unusually cheery when he wishes Sasuke luck. Although the majority of his first shift passed at a painfully slow pace, Sakura’s rounds went by in the blink of an eye. The act of looking away from her grows so difficult with each fleeting second that the mission might as well be considered to be A-rank. He already knows today is not going to get any easier.
Sasuke is staring at the door as if it will make up for the time he will spend gluing his eyes on the scene outside when the door opens revealing Sakura and the nurse. He immediately anchors his gaze to the mellow light cascading through the canopy of trees outside the window, suddenly aware that nothing makes up for the sight of her. He wants to turn. He wants to look at her. He hasn’t seen her enough. The sound of papers passing through her fingertips is accompanied by the click of a pen. He wants to watch her hands work skillfully through the wound, he wants to watch her eyes narrow in concentration, he wants to watch her after she completes her task successfully, letting out a sigh in tired delight at the healing injury.
The pen clicks a second time.
“Good work, Doctor.”
Sakura reciprocates the nurse’s words and turns her back to him. Sasuke is left to watch the messy pink knot of her hair as she walks towards the door. He wants to call out to her, he realizes. It is not a request for her to direct her attention towards him. It is not her acknowledgment that he seeks—no, that would be a luxury. He simply wants to say her name aloud and before he can make any better sense of himself, the words escape on their own accord.
“Sakura,” he says. And it is so low that he pacifies his anxiety by telling himself she may not have heard him. He is proved wrong soon enough when she stops at the door. It takes him a while to realize that the nurse has already left and it is just the two of them and an unconscious prisoner attached to buzzing machines. Sakura faces him now, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. She shifts the clipboard to one of her hands and holds it against her thigh. Panic seizes Sasuke and he’s unable to think of a single reason that seems worthy enough for this interaction. The words muddle inside his head and he is arrested by his inability to form sentences. Speaking is an unattainable skill when her eyes are so luring. It is dangerously easy to get lost within the depths of her emerald gaze, far more dangerous than any genjutsu he can perform.
“I-”
He stops short. The words are trapped and sealed with a lid when she begins to move towards him. She stands a step apart and reaches for something inside her pocket. She leans forward but her hand doesn’t even graze his. The vanilla scent of her hair is inescapable when she places a packet on the window sill behind him. The plastic cover now behind him crinkles under her touch.
“You might need these,” she says, her eyes joining his. Only when she starts to walk away can Sasuke inspect what she just offered him.
“Thank you,” he manages to say before she crosses the threshold. Sasuke can only hate the door when it slams shut, barely allowing him to witness her smile, as she takes all the light in the room with her. The sun outside beams aptly for a winter morning while the clock strikes 11 am.
–
Only the closest of her coworkers notice that something is bothering the Chief. However, their polite interrogations are futile. Her duties are, nonetheless, performed with expertise, owing to which most of them abandon their concern. When the blond-haired florist arrives at the hospital and enquires about the Chief’s schedule, the staff are relieved. Ino’s intervention often led to the solving of any issues Sakura must have.
“Why are you sulking?” Ino says, slipping onto one of the chairs in front of the table.
“I’m not sulking,” Sakura stands next to the window, watching the streets with an abnormal interest.
Sakura doesn’t elaborate on the topic of her disturbance. Therefore, the sight of the cover sitting untouched in the same place she had placed it the day before goes unmentioned. Mentioning it is acknowledging the botheration it brings—something she is keen on never doing. She barely gave the cover a glance in the morning, certain that its neglect emanated from the lack of useful circumstances. But even after the day gives birth to the night, even when Akane blushes at the sight of her boyfriend the next morning, the cover remains. Sasuke left it there.