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She wants to go after them, but Kakashi won't let her.
It's between the two of them now, he says.
No, she thinks, There's still me and there's you. We are a team.
But they are not, not in the same easy way that Shikamaru, Ino and Chouji are, and they never have been.
There was a time, years ago, when they had some sort of fragile camaraderie going on, when - in life-or-death situations - they could depend on each other, but never really dared to.
Since then, Naruto has become her friend, her brother, her confidant, and Kakashi has grown into a teacher in his own right, even if back then he hadn't yet been ready to take on his own Genin team.
None of them were ever truly ready to be a team, and yet. And yet.
Naruto is what keeps them together, she knows now. All of Team 7 and even all of Konoha. All of the other villages, too, if the looks of grudging respect in the eyes of the other Kage are anything to go on.
So yes, together they are Team 7. But Naruto is the core of that team, the heart of that body, keeping the blood pumping.
Kakashi is the head, eyes and ears and mind, waiting and watching and keeping his tongue.
I am the hands, she realizes. Always mending, always holding on.
And Sasuke must be the legs and feet. Forever running, away or into battle, what does it matter?
A man can live without his legs. A shinobi can, too, but he will lose his purpose.
Without Sasuke, Naruto would lose his purpose.
Without Naruto... Sasuke's blood would run cold.
She wants to go after them, but Kakashi won't let her.
She only gives a curt nod.
She's exhausted still, and so is Kakashi.
They try to catch their bearings as they wait out the night. They rest while Sasuke and Naruto are tearing each other apart somewhere not here.
It feels wrong, like she should be doing something, anything, even though nothing comes to mind.
She never quite saw the darkness in Sasuke, doesn't even quite see it now. And each time she is surprised when he commits some new atrocity. As if she had thought the time before that had surely been the most horrible thing he could ever do.
Through how many chests does he have to shove his fist until she will finally shed her naivety?
Sasuke had never heeded her pleas, her promises, has always pushed her aside, as if her fists and feelings posed no threat to him. She's come to realize that now, and the knowledge has settled heavily in the pit of her stomach.
But it's not only for Sasuke's sake that she wants to be there.
Naruto needs her back-up. Whether she's there to encourage him or heal his wounds, or simply remind him of the fact that once upon a time he gave her his word.
Sometimes, in her more desolate moments, she thinks that this is all her fault. That yes, she couldn't have stopped Sasuke from leaving, but she needn't have made Naruto go after him. Needn't have guilted him into thinking that this was his only worth, a hound sent to retrieve a precious item.
But for Naruto, Sasuke was always enough of a reason. Sakura was simply an excuse.
It is just before sunrise when Kakashi finally deems it time for them to follow after the boys.
And she wants to yell and scream because, if they weren't dead last night, they probably are now. Because, if Naruto were alive, he would have surely returned to them.
But she doesn't want to waste another minute, doesn't want to spare another thought for what exactly they might find.
They are not dead, she tells herself instead. She would know if they were.
Kakashi doesn't hesitate as he leads the way, no Sharingan, no nin-dogs, nothing.
She hates him a little bit for this, for his knowledge of their whereabouts and for his reluctance to not go there immediately. But she also sees the tension in his shoulders, the dread in his eyes.
She cannot blame him. And how could she if she cannot even really blame Sasuke?
The Valley of the End is aptly named. But what kind of end she does not yet know. The end of a fight? Of a life? Of a friendship?
Dark and foreboding, the giant statues of Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama stand facing each other, forever carved into the rough stone. And yet, they no longer seem larger than life, not now that she has seen them in their flaws and their failures.
Would Konoha have to carve a second monument into the rock, mirroring the stances of the First Hokage and the forefather of the Uchiha? Would Naruto's wish of having his face immortalized in stone be twisted into this horrible mockery?
She can only hope that she's not too late.
They're not dead, but almost.
They have lost a lot blood, too much really, yet the wounds are mostly cauterized by the chakra blast that must've ripped their arms off in the first place.
There's also the chakra depletion to worry about. Their signatures keep flickering in and out of existence and Kyuubi doesn't seem to be there at all.
Tsunade-taishou taught her to only ever focus on one patient. Otherwise you might accidentally drain yourself of your own chakra. But how could she save Naruto only to tell him that Sasuke had died beside him? How could she turn to Sasuke, knowing that his actions were what made Naruto bleed out right next to her?
So she places her hands on their chests and kick-starts their chakra with as much of her own as she can spare. She has to be careful, though, afraid that going too fast might send their systems into shock. So she takes her time and concentrates until she can feel their breathing stabilize, their hearts beating more steadily.
Only then does she allow herself to take a closer look at the wounds.
Their blood has congealed in a dark river between them, joining them, as if they were trying to hold on to each other even though there are no hands left.
She can sew a severed limb back on, usually even fully functional, but that's not possible here. Their arms must've been completely shredded during the attack, leaving no tissue to fix the damage.
So she works on closing the wounds instead, Kakashi an ever-present figure at her back.
When she had first ascertained that Sasuke and Naruto were still alive, he had dispatched a couple of ninken to send for help. They would have to transport the boys as quickly and carefully as possible.
That has to be enough for now. There's nothing more she can do.
Don't blame yourself, Kakashi tells her, though it is obvious in his tone that he is blaming himself instead, You've done more than enough.
Yet it never really feels that way.
Konoha Hospital is still standing, and for that she is grateful. It's more crowded and frantic than usual, but the familiar hallways give her a sense of ease and home.
If she's honest, she'd prefer to do nothing but sit at her boys' bedside until they wake, but she's a medic-nin first and has other responsibilities.
There are so many injured, so many still searching for friends and family that she cannot truly enjoy the luxury of knowing where her own dear ones are.
But she has a break now, desperately needs one, or otherwise she would crash herself, so she makes her way to the room that has been set aside to offer more privacy.
There's an ANBU guard in front of the door and another one outside the window, but he lets her pass without question.
They had wanted to put Sasuke under special supervision, claiming that he was still an enemy of Konoha, but Sakura had fought tooth and nail that he and Naruto should not be separated.
But she knows, of course, that they have no way of knowing what Sasuke's objective is at this point. The fight had obviously ended at an impasse, so it is possible that he still harbors ill intent.
She isn't sure how she would react to that. Having Sasuke on the run with just the faintest hope for a change of heart was better than having him in Konoha as an unrepentant prisoner.
When she steps into the room now, her gaze first falls to Naruto. He seems to be sleeping relatively peacefully, still pale and haggard, but undoubtedly alive, his chest rising steadily under the thin blanket.
When she turns to the right, though, she finds Sasuke looking back at her. A split second later, his eyes have shifted away, focusing on Naruto now instead.
“You're awake,” she says and is surprised to find that he doesn't reprimand her in any way for pointing out the obvious.
It's an opportunity, she realizes suddenly. She hasn't been alone with Sasuke in ages and, right now, he cannot run away, can only listen to what she has to say. The ANBU can doubtlessly hear her, but she doesn't care, she needs to get this out, all those feelings she had bottled up, all the accusations and threats and questions.
But when opens her mouth, nothing comes out.
“How are you?” she manages to ask instead.
His gaze cuts to her in that familiar manner, that look reserved for stupid questions, before shrugging, a movement that must jar his stump, yet he doesn't even flinch.
“Been better,” he replies, his tone dry, but then his gaze flickers back to Naruto for just a moment. “Been worse.”
“Do you want something to drink?” she offers and, after a moment’s hesitation, he nods.
She could feed him ice chips or give him a sippy cup, but she knows that would be too undignified for him, even in this situation. So she doesn't reprimand him when he struggles to sit up in bed. His right hand is bound to the bed so he cannot get away, and it hinders his movements in general, but he manages to take the paper cup from her and drink it with reluctant sips.
“How's Naruto?” Sasuke asks, not looking at her but into his own vague reflection in the water, as she steps back to give him space.
“Like you,” she shrugs. “But you know him - he uses every excuse to conk out.”
It's surprisingly easy to talk like that, to act as if the past four years had never happened. Just the outcome of yet another B-ranked mission, Sakura in between the boys who are always at each other's throat, except for when they are secretly worried about each other.
She doesn't allow herself to think about the future. For the longest time, their ultimate goal was to bring back Sasuke. Now he is here and there are so many new obstacles.
Will the village accept him back or see him as an ongoing threat? Will he even really want to stay and live a normal life? Will he and Naruto be able to stay shinobi?
Sakura doesn't fool herself. She's seen many gruesome injuries, but a lost limb is as much as a death sentence as a severed head. What good are you if you can't properly wield weapons or form seals? Ninja with amputated arms and legs become paper pushers. If there is one thing both Naruto and Sasuke would suck at, it's bureaucracy.
Has any of this occurred to Sasuke yet? Is he mourning his lost limb or his lost plan for revenge? Is he regretting the fact that all of this could have been avoided if only he had given in just a little bit sooner?
“Ne, Sakura,” Sasuke says then, and she realizes that she has been lost in thoughts.
“Can you do me a favor?” Sasuke asks, and his voice is not demanding, not emotionless, just... asking a simple question, with a little bit of hope wedged somewhere between the words.
When she was thirteen, she would have done anything for him, would have done anything to even have him ask her such a question, but now she feels vaguely apprehensive.
“Depends,” she replies lightly. “What kind of favor is it?”
“Could you-” And he stops to lick his lower lip then, a nervous gesture, and isn't that strange? “Could you push me closer to Naruto's bed?”
Of all the things she might have expected, that's definitely not it, but she just squares her shoulders.
“I'm afraid that's not possible,” she says and watches as Uchiha Sasuke positively slumps in defeat.
“Your bed is bound to the wall,” she tells him. “But Naruto's is not.”
And she walks over and pulls the bedside tables and chairs aside, before carefully maneuvering Naruto's bed plus the various machines and IVs he's hooked up to closer to Sasuke's side.
It takes a while as she has to do it inch by inch, but when she looks up she notices that she's gone a bit overboard because there's barely any space left between the beds, certainly not enough for the medical personnel to fit, in case of an emergency.
But Sasuke is still watching her progress expectantly, so she thinks ‘what the hell’ and pushes the rest of the way, closing the little bit of distance, until the narrow beds are perfectly lined up.
She deliberately takes some moments to busy herself with neatly arranging the rest of the furniture and equipment, and when she straightens and allows herself to turn around, she is not much surprised by the scene that greets her.
Sasuke has stretched out his arm as far as his binds allow, and his hand has grasped Naruto's fingers. And she cannot see whether he's awake, but Naruto's head has lolled to the side, as if drawn in by Sasuke's gravitational pull.
A smile is on her lips then, small but relieved. This answers one of her questions at least.
She walks over to the door then, planning to leave them alone and spend her break somewhere else, but Sasuke's voice stops her.
“Sakura,” he says, and she glances back over her shoulder. He's not even looking at her, staring at his and Naruto's joint hands instead, but she doesn't mind so much.
“There are chairs here, aren't there,” he points out, and it takes her an embarrassingly long moment to figure out that it's meant as an invitation.
“I guess so,” she says softly. When she pulls one of the chairs over and sits down at the end of Naruto's bed, she looks up just in time to catch Sasuke giving her a hint of a smile.
They've been in the hospital for a week, a week, and they are already climbing the walls.
Well, Naruto is climbing the walls, but Sasuke is underlining the loud complaints with pointed glares and put-upon sighs. They are like toddlers, like school children, like genin, and somehow it's the best thing in the world.
They have physical therapy and psych evaluations and all those necessities ahead of them, but instead Kiba or some other idiot has smuggled kunai and shuriken into their room, and now they are eagerly practicing their aim.
Shinobi learn to be ambidextrous early on, but losing half your arm still throws you off balance. There's phantom pain and phantom feeling and generally just the shock of sometimes forgetting the fact that a part of you is missing.
Sasuke and Naruto have never seemed more complete.
The only thing still keeping Naruto in bed is the fact that Sasuke can't leave his without permission or supervision. So instead they terrorize the nurses together and antagonize the ANBU. Sakura hadn't known that people with masks on their faces could still look so exasperated.
One of her colleagues has run to her to complain again, so Sakura makes her way to their room, not yet knowing what to expect. Maybe Naruto drew a penis on Sasuke's face again while he was sleeping. Or Sasuke ate all of Naruto's jell-o, just to spite him.
It's no longer war between those two, but it's never quite peace either.
When she steps into the room, though, she stops dead in her tracks.
By the looks of it, Sasuke and Naruto are sitting in their beds, legs crossed and playing cards. That alone wouldn't be too much cause for worry.
The worrisome thing is that there is a shadow clone sitting next to Naruto, intently staring at his own cards.
“Uzumaki Naruto!” she shouts, and immediately both original and clone freeze up.
“What were you thinking!?” Sakura hisses, marching up to them and punching both in the head. The clone puffs out of existence while the other howls miserably.
“What part of 'you nearly died of chakra exhaustion' did you not understand?!” she demands. “I know you're a special case, but that's no reason to tempt fate!”
“Ne, ne, Sakura-chan,” Naruto tries to soothe both her and the bump on his head. “It was just an experiment.”
“What, how many bunshin does it take until you die after all?!”
“No.” Naruto shakes his head quickly. “We just wanted to see whether our jutsu still worked. And at least we didn't try katon no jutsu like Sasuke proposed.”
Sakura shoots an angry glare at Sasuke who does his best to look unaffected, but doesn't quite manage.
“But, Sakura-chan, Kakashi-sensei would be proud of our teamwork!” Naruto hurries to say, only to flinch back when Sakura's anger is directed at him again.
“Yes, great team effort trying to off you, you idiot!”
“That's not it.” Naruto nudges Sasuke with his elbow. “Let's show her, teme.”
“Hn,” Sasuke huffs but, a second later, Sakura can only stare in fascination as both lift their hands and flash through the according seals together.
Two clones pop up beside them then, one of Sasuke and one of Naruto. Sasuke releases his after only a few seconds, still too weak to maintain it for any stretch of time, but Naruto's grins proudly.
“When I got Sasuke, I can still make clones; and when I can still make clones, I can still make a Rasengan,” Naruto announces happily. “And when I can still make a Rasengan, I can still become Hokage; and when I can still become Hokage, I can still... Well, I guess I can do whatever I like, then.”
“Usuratonkachi,” Sasuke says and buries his face in his hand.
Sakura, however, doesn't know what to say.
It's not a way in which they can truly function as shinobi, but it's something. And if there ever was a person who could make the best of a situation, then it was Uzumaki Naruto.
“You're idiots,” she says, destroying the remaining clone with a violent flick of her finger. “Both of you.”
But, as long as they are idiots together, that's alright with her.
If Naruto is the heart, beating steady and true, and Sasuke is the feet, still and unwavering for the first time in years, then Sakura is the hands, gentle and nurturing. They are going to need her hands now, even if they cannot see it themselves yet.
Together, they can be more than just functional. Together, they can be whole.