Penthesilea

Chapter Six

Chapter Beta: Sakura's Unicorn

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戦国時代

In the early hours of the morning, Sasuke lies on his back, spent. He lingers on the cusp of sleep while Sakura, a snug weight against him, absently traces what feels like a bruise forming on his hip. Her hair is splayed across his chest, her ear pressed against his heart.

As the tent slowly becomes lighter, he experiences a growing sense of dismay. The waking world awaits, and with it, the truth of their situation. Soon, there will be no shadows to hide in, or canvas to block out the world.

Sakura must sense this, too, because abruptly, the comforting warmth of her body is gone.

Sasuke watches her move around his quarters, gathering her clothes. As she dresses, he says nothing to dissuade her, instead, studying the little details of her that emerge with the brightening dawn—the defined muscles he's traced with his hands, the translucent freckles that cover her, the curve of her small breasts, and the bite marks along her strong shoulders. There's a scar, too, centimetres below her kidney that he noticed when they were pressed together; he wants to ask about it, but now is not the time.

Bared skin disappears beneath the voluminous folds of her robes. Once she's finished dressing, she smiles softly at him—and a little sadly, too, Sasuke thinks—before leaning down to kiss him. It's utterly chaste compared to anything else they've shared, but his heartrate still speeds up and he's still disappointed when she pulls away. He's careful not to allow his expression to betray that, however. Instead, he occupies himself with reaching forward to pull her turban a little further down on her forehead, obscuring the telltale seal there.

They both pause, their eyes meeting, and Sasuke's attempts at nonchalance disappear as he abruptly forgets how to breathe. Sakura gazes at him in something like hope, or maybe expectation and something else—something terrifying and unfathomable. It makes him feel like he's been dropped from a great height with nowhere near to catch himself. He knows that something's happening right now—some realisation, some crossroads or turning point that they've arrived at. Sensing he's meant to do something right now, he slowly brings his middle and index finger together and taps her covered forehead.

Sakura blinks at him, puzzled, but then blushes as darkly as she did when she lay completely naked and open to him the night before. Perhaps, she sees in his eyes the sentiment he can't put into words.

They linger like that, unmoving, for several long minutes, before a shadow from outside falls over them.

There's a familiar silhouette standing by the entrance of the tent, and then the sound of a throat being cleared as subtly as possible.

"The guard has changed," Kakashi's quiet, level voice murmurs. "It's time to go."

Sakura graces Sasuke with one last look, as if she's the one memorising his features this time, and she slips through the flap. Within moments, her shadow disappears along with Kakashi's.

Sasuke stares at the spot where she just stood, and then falls back on his pallet, suddenly quite weary. Pressing a palm into his eye, he swears into the semi-darkness of his quarters.

What the hell is he doing?

戦国時代

It's not the last time it happens.

Sakura returns the next week to treat Itachi, and the next, and so on.

Each time, she comes to them with a new idea for treatment, one that doesn't require drawing blood or essentially handing the Senju a way to defeat the Uchiha. Each time his brother's condition improves slightly. He isn't cured—not yet, Sakura insists with determination—but he can leave his bed and take short walks.