The Last Rose (Naruto Fanfic)

Training

As it turned out, Tazuna's house wasn't very far away, so hauling the unconscious Kakashi there hadn't been as big of a job as it could have been. Of course, Sora hadn't been the one to help carry him, because as soon as the adrenaline from the battle had worn off, her arm had started hurting like a bitch. There was no way she could forget about it now. Sasuke had the gall to look the least bit guilty, though he never did apologize, and Sora wasn't quite sure she forgave him.

As soon as they arrived at Tazuna's house, his daughter, a young woman named Tsunami, dragged both Sora and Kakashi to a room to tend to their wounds. While Kakashi slept on a mat on the floor, she had pulled out the Kunai on Sora's arm (which, embarrassingly enough, had caused Sora to scream into clenched teeth) and inspected the wound, shaking her head.

"The wound is infected." She announced and Sora's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, and she turned to glare at Sasuke, who was sitting to the side. Immediately, she felt woozy, swaying on her feet.

"Sit." Tsunami ordered, pulling her down gently, and feeling her forehead. "You're coming down with a fever, the wounded area is swelling, and the skin around it is warm." She pursed her lips. "Yeah— definitely infected."

"Is Sora gonna be okay?" Naruto asked, leaning forward. "She saved me out there, dattebayo!"

"She'll be fine." Tsunami reassured. "Though I am surprised the wound got infected this quickly. And you're so skinny too—" She lifted Sora's face with a hand under her chin, examining her face with disdain. "There are dark circles under your eyes about a mile long! You're not that much older than my son, you know, you should really take better care of yourself."

"I'm fine." Sora hissed, batting away Tsunami's hand. "It's just a stupid fever, it'll go away by tomorrow."

And she was right. After Tsunami had cleaned and bandaged her wound, Sora had been left in the same room as Kakashi, while the rest crashed out in the living room. She was so exhausted that she had managed to sleep for a good three hours without a single nightmare. She had still awoken before the sun had risen and sat in the corner of the dark room, fidgeting with the chakra bracelet prototype that Wing had given them.

Even though it had been her plan to mold it into a hook to save Naruto, it was Sakura that had actually managed to do it. Wing had been right— her chakra control did suck. But it wasn't just her control. It seemed like she barely had any chakra at all. The most she could comfortably do was send chakra to her feet for a brief moment so she could jump into the trees. But if she wanted to make a clone or transform, it took every ounce of her concentration and effort, and even then it didn't last long, and she usually passed out every time she tried. Iruka had been right to hesitate before passing her. Maybe he shouldn't have passed her at all.

Sighing, the eleven year old got to her feet, wincing slightly at the ache in her arm. Her fever had died down, thankfully, but her left arm still hurt every time she moved it. She could only count herself lucky that she just happened to be ambidextrous, or else this would have been a whole lot more bothersome.

She had changed out of her usual outfit and into a more casual one—a simple golden t-shirt that she had stolen from Wing, and black leggings. The shirt practically swallowed her but she didn't mind. She glanced at Kakashi, who was still sleeping soundly, and quietly left the room, sliding the door shut behind her.

The rest of the team were strewn across the living room, Sakura on a couch by herself, neatly tucked into a blanket as she slept on her side. Naruto was on the floor, looking like he had fallen off the couch, limbs flying every which way, but a smile was on his face. That boy still had that stupid grin on his face even when he was sleeping. Sasuke was on the couch above him, his arms crossed over his chest, sleeping on his back. Which made sense. Only a complete psychopath like Sasuke would be able to sleep on his back.