Chapter Text
I give a huge yawn and close the documents lying in front of me. I glance over the gray cover stamped with the Konoha crest, then pick it up and set it on the corner of the desk, on top of the stack already gathered there. I'll start with this tomorrow. I'll bring the whole lot to Kakashi-sensei. Sensei? I smile at the thought, because officially I haven't had any business calling him that in years, but to me he'll always be sensei, whether he's Hokage or not. I lean back and rub my temples uncomfortably. My head's started aching again. I sigh, because it usually shows up when I forget to eat and drink because of work. In a way I'm almost glad, because along with the eating and drinking, plenty of other unwanted thoughts leave me alone too, for as long as I'm lost in the work. Right now, though, as always happens, they're creeping back out of hiding to drive me out of my mind.
I look out the window. The sun has already started sinking toward the horizon, washing everything in a orange-ish glow. I pray it's late enough that it's mostly just the on-duty staff left at the clinic, but when I glance at the clock on the wall, I'm disappointed—it's only seven, which means there's no avoiding a run-in with Ino, and the lecture about all my overworking that comes with it. I'm already sighing deeply. Should I stay a little longer? Look through a few more papers? Obviously ridiculous. I can't even concentrate anymore, and I need to eat something, so, reluctantly, I decide come what may, I'm leaving. I get up from my chair and start shrugging out of my white coat, but before I can even hang it on the rack by the desk, there's a knock at the door—and without waiting for an answer, it's already opening.
"I knew it!" Ino levels an accusing finger at me, like she's caught me mid-jewel-heist instead of mid-coat-hanging. With another sigh I finish the motion and step back to the desk to gather my things.
"I thought you'd already gone home," I lie cheerfully, not even looking at her.
"Wishful thinking, huh?" she says, stepping closer. Her voice is a touch gentler, but not nearly gentle enough for me to count this as a won battle. I'm not getting out of the Yamanaka sermon on taking care of my health and setting a good example. "No such luck," she goes on. "I checked in on a few of my trickier patients, and then I was going to head home, but then it occurred to me you might still be here, and lo and behold! I was right!" Her voice climbs, a little furious. I burst out laughing, because it's honestly comical how worked up she gets about my lifestyle.
"Caught red-handed," I tease brightly, sweeping one last glance over my desk. Everything's in place. Phone and wallet in my bag, keys in my pocket. I'm not leaving anything behind. At first glance, anyway.
"This isn't a joke, Sakura!" she snaps, but I still can't do anything except smile at her. Nothing's happened to me so far; nothing's going to. "I worry," she says, more subdued now. She even flushes a little, the way she always does when she says something kind to me, or I say something kind to her. It's not how things usually go between us, and it makes me a little uncomfortable too.
"You don't need to," I answer. I'm not smiling anymore, to be more convincing, but she just studies my face calculatingly with those blue eyes of hers. "Besides, you're here too," I add for good measure. The flustered blush vanishes from her face instantly, replaced again by lukewarm irritation.
"That's different. You were here yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and honestly, thinking about it, you've been here this late for weeks now. I drag myself in this late maybe twice, three times a week, tops!" I can't decide whether she's accusing me or defending herself, but it doesn't really matter, because she's won the argument. I can't argue with that, and I don't want to, because exhaustion and hunger are bigger forces than my pride.
"The kids need me," I say anyway.
"The kids are perfectly well taken care of by that entire medical team you personally trained!" The comeback comes so fast it even catches me off guard, and I'm already used to Ino's lectures. Again, I've got no good retort. She was right, and I knew it perfectly well.
"You know, Ino, I'd be sitting in a restaurant right now eating dinner instead of standing here, if you weren't giving me a speech about why I'm here so late!" I tell her, then step out from behind the desk, aiming for the door. If this keeps up, I'm going to pass out from hunger right here, and I really wouldn't have been able to talk my way out of that one in front of the blonde. She goes quiet for a moment—weighing what I said, I assume—but, as I expected, she doesn't leave it at that. She turns and follows me out.
"Forget the restaurant!" she grumbles, sweeping past me to reach the hallway first so I can lock up my office door. While I'm fumbling with the key, she naturally keeps up the siege. "I'm making dinner tonight anyway."
Oh, of course, Ino! Nothing I want more, after a day this long and exhausting, than to be, alongside my own unwelcome thoughts, the third wheel at dinner with you and Sai! However did you guess that's exactly what I'd been hoping for all day?
"I don't know," I start, straightening up. When I turn around, she's staring back at me with her arms crossed, and she doesn't even let me finish what I was starting to say—she cuts right in.
"Sai won't be there, if that's what you're worried about," she says, reading my mind. One perfectly groomed eyebrow arches upward, waiting for an answer. If there were a queen of cynical expressions, I think she'd win the crown. She's honed it to a master's level—somehow managing to look both pretty and insufferable at the same time. "The Hokage sent him on a mission yesterday," she explains. Her expression flickers—annoyed for a moment, then disappointed. Of course, these too are classic Ino expressions. Neither one is complete without a dash of cynicism, but I still feel for her, and I start down the hallway. She falls into step beside me.
"Fine," I give in at last. My head feels like it's been shoved into a medieval vice. It keeps getting worse, and the worst part is I can't tell whether it's Ino's nonstop talking or sheer exhaustion causing it.
"Good!" She loosens up a bit. "Knowing you, it probably would've ended up being some instant junk from the corner store instead of an actual restaurant anyway," she grumbles on. She really does worry, and it feels nice, but she's also laying it on a little thick. "You're worse than Naruto," she adds. I'd argue, but I don't even have the energy left, because at the mention of Uzumaki, another thought worms its way into my head. I file this one under unwanted thoughts too, and try to chase it out of my mind as fast as I possibly can, but of course, that's more than enough time for Ino to catch the few seconds of mood shift on my face. "Sakura," she sighs, and I already know what's coming—another conversation I have absolutely no mood for, but since it's Ino, there's no dodging it. "I don't want to be harsh," she begins, and I could honestly laugh at the irony. Her? Not wanting to be harsh? "But he doesn't deserve you waiting around for him," she says finally. Since I don't respond, she takes it as a green light to keep trampling straight through my heart. "He barely comes back to the village, and even when he does, he's gone again so fast that maybe Kakashi even notices, but nobody else does." As if I weren't perfectly aware of that. If anything, I think I'm the one most aware of it. The unwanted thoughts flood my mind now so thoroughly that I'd genuinely like to slam my skull into the nearest wall.
With some effort I force a fake smile onto my face, even though I know full well it's been a long time since that's fooled Ino.
"Don't worry about it," I glance at her carefully. "I'm not waiting on anything anymore," I remark. "I don't want anything else, just to work at the clinic and help the kids," I turn my gaze back to the hallway. We're slowly nearing the reception desk, and step out onto the street. Fewer people are milling around than during the day, but still enough that the noise grates on my ears. My head is still pounding. I can't wait to finally reach Ino's apartment.
"I don't think this is healthy," she delivers her final verdict. I smile stiffly as a few kids dash past us.
"Just because almost everyone has a partner doesn't mean it's wrong for someone not to," I explain, since that's surely what she meant. Of course, the truth is far more complicated than that. "There's more to life than that," I try to convince—though I'm not sure anymore whether I'm convincing myself or her. Probably both of us.
"Not just that," she seizes on my words. "But that too! Naruto's always going on about love! Of all people, you shouldn't be the one dismissing how much that matters—you, his old teammate!" she says, incredulous.
"Don't talk nonsense," I take a deep breath. A heart-achingly good smell drifts out from one of the bakeries. My stomach growls. "I know exactly how much it matters. My family, my friends… they all love me. I know that, and I feel it, completely," I insist, but the usual mask of cynicism settles over Ino's face. I brace for the jab, and it doesn't take long to arrive.
"You should really start a family of your own," she mutters, a little quieter now. I burst out laughing.
"I don't see the two of you working very hard on that front," I fire back. How can she lecture me, when we're the same age, when she has a boyfriend and unlike me, and they haven't gotten anywhere either—if we're talking about starting a family, that is.
"Oh, we're on it. We're in the practice phase," she answers slyly. I go red.
"Ino!" I scold her. Nobody's asking how Sai performs in bed, yet somehow she always manages to let slip one unwanted detail or another about their private life, which drives me completely up the wall. One: because I don't care. Two: because I'm nowhere near close to ever having that kind of relationship with anyone. As the thought takes root in me again, my mood sinks from the joking phase straight into the grim, honest one. "You really don't need to worry," I lower my voice. Ino perks up immediately. "I've already made my peace with the fact that there's not much chance of anything between me and Sasuke-kun," I finally admit. Ino's eyebrows knit together, and her face radiates pity. People know perfectly well that's the last thing I need right now, and yet somehow they still can't rein in their expressions. I've got the perfect fake smile ready for occasions like this too. I don't make her wait for it—I bring it out. The blonde shakes her head fiercely. Her long blonde hair sways after her.
"I highly doubt he's capable of maintaining a close relationship with anyone," she mutters, still a little irritated. I press my lips together to smother a genuine smile, because even after all this time, even after Sai, there's still a faint bitter edge in Ino's voice, but that's understandable, and I don't blame her for it. "Sometimes I wonder—" she glances at me suddenly, conspiratorial and sly. "Do you think he's ever kissed anyone besides Naruto?"
Laughter bursts out of me and I can barely stop it, it feels so good. Tears even spring to my eyes.
"You're sick, Ino!" I tell her plainly. The thought genuinely never crossed my mind. Well—in that particular form, that's a lie. Of course something similar has crossed my mind, just not with Naruto. There've been a few times I've wondered whether anything ever happened between him and Karin, and what's been happening with him during his travels since then, on that front, among other things—naturally that topic included. After all, he's a grown man now. My stomach twists into a knot, but thank god the thought doesn't linger too long in my head, because we've arrived at Ino's.
Just as I expected, the silence hits me almost like a physical blow. It feels so good to collapse into one of the chairs at the kitchen table that I seriously doubt I'll be able to get back up after dinner. Ino quickly pours me a coffee to keep me occupied while she gets dinner ready. The coffee lasts almost to the last drop. Meanwhile Ino tries to chatter about nothing but neutral topics. A few times I try to bring up clinic business, but the blonde keeps deflecting, insisting I worry about work plenty enough as it is, so I should give it a rest, just this once. I comply with her request—or rather, her conditions. The coffee does its job, at least where my drowsiness is concerned. My head's not even pounding anymore. It's faded into a dull throb.
This isn't the first time I've eaten Ino's cooking, but I have to admit, she gets better at it every single time. I, of course, remain excluded from that particular skill set. I consider it pointless to cook just for myself, and on the rare occasion I do, what I make isn't bad, but it doesn't even belong in the same conversation as Ino's cooking.
"How long is Sai on his mission?" I ask. I'm sitting at the table in a spot where I can see straight into the entryway, and there's a photo of Sai sitting on one of the shelves. It looks new. It definitely wasn't there the last time I visited. Then again, that was about a month ago.
Ino purses her lips and sets her utensils down on the table beside her white plate. She's cleared her plate completely, and now leans back in her chair, taking a deep breath.
"Not sure exactly. Two, three weeks," she answers, disappointed, then gets up and sets the dirty dishes on the counter—just as the doorbell rings. I look up, curious, because it's already past eight-thirty.
"Expecting someone?" I ask, because it's unusual for anyone to show up unannounced this late. At least, no one shows up at my place like that. If anyone shows up at all.
"No," she shakes her head, and heads toward the door a little warily. I get up too. I set the dirty dishes where Ino put hers, then move a little closer to the entryway, lean against the wall, and listen to find out who the unexpected visitor is. I can't make out what they're saying, just a few scattered fragments, but I don't really want to show myself unless I have to. Then, suddenly, silence, and Ino appears under the archway separating the kitchen from the entryway. Her face is startled, pale. I start to worry. Not Sai—please. Kami-sama, please, don't let it be something with him!
I wait, tense, for Ino to finally get out whatever it is, until I'm ready to shake her just to break through that frozen, pale mask on her face—and then, finally, for a moment she stares down at the floor, then back up at me.
"It was a messenger. The Hokage's summoning—" she whimpers. I feel my mouth drop open in surprise.
"Why, what happened? Sai?" I ask, finally, directly. Ino shakes her head, startled.
"Not me. You," she explains, and it seems like a bit of her usual self is creeping back in, but I can tell she's hiding something. Confused, I head into the entryway for my bag.
"Didn't he say why?" Ino doesn't answer, and that's what really starts to worry me now. My stomach knots up again, because that's not like her at all. For a moment I stop in the doorway and look back at her. She crosses her arms, tries to act like her usual self, but only half manages it.
"He said to go to the central hospital, and hurry!" I panic. My mind goes to Naruto, who was supposedly due back from a mission today. Just the thought of it fills me with dread—that I might find him in one of the hospital rooms in terrible shape. I doubt anyone could actually take him down, but we're all human. Anything can happen.
"He didn't say anything else?" I try one last time, because it seems like Ino's holding something back, but the blonde just shakes her head slowly, so I turn and head out the door, back toward the center of the village.
I'm afraid. Who am I kidding? I'm terrified! It would take something seriously severe for Kakashi-sensei to decide to summon me to the central hospital at this hour. Something the on-duty staff and the doctors there aren't capable of handling. He knows it, and so do I—we both know exactly what I'm capable of. At least in medicine I've managed to outpace everyone, but Kakashi-sensei still seizes every chance he gets to take some of the weight off my shoulders.
When I arrive, the young woman sitting at the front desk springs up the instant I step through the entrance. She darts around her desk to meet me, and in the same motion presses a freshly laundered coat into my hands while I hand her my bag. I don't stop, but there's no need to. She falls into step beside me, pressing a few medical instruments into my hands as well. She must have had them ready the moment word came that I was on my way. I glance back at her gratefully, but I can't manage a smile, because my stomach is still clenched tight with fear.
"We've placed the patient in examination room four," she informs me, still heroically keeping pace with me. "He walked in on his own, but then collapsed. His condition is very severe. The on-duty staff suspect serious internal organ damage, but his condition didn't allow for a CT scan. Because of who the patient is, the Hokage-sama was notified as well, and he sent for Sensei because apparently you treated the patient before, during a life-saving procedure." Now I'm certain it's Naruto. I think of his arm, of the moment I healed it after the war, the same way I healed Sasuke-kun's. No doubt about it. Naruto. The fear swells into something worse than dread now, but this time it isn't the unknown driving it—and that's far worse than anything else.
Without even slowing down, I burst into the examination room. There are surprisingly many people present, but I make straight for the bed everyone's gathered around. I sweep a glance over the machines and the readings on them, then come to a stop right beside the bed—and simply go into shock at what I see.