11. shelter from the rain

It had been nearly one hour since they'd been separated; the morning's foggy skies had since thickened into a downpour.

Sasuke returned to the depths of the cave, cold hands closed around the wood to avoid shaking. It was bad enough that he was soaked to the bone, but his chakra reserves had been depleted in the skirmish and ensuing escape, leaving him as exhausted as he was freezing.

Sakura rose her eyes from her bleeding knees when he came close, lips bruised purple. To her credit, she did attempt to smile at him. If she was feeling well enough to pretend, she was feeling well enough to stay conscious.

At least, that was what he hoped.

She was supposed to have fallen back with Kakashi, but their teacher had been too busy fending off the brunt of the bandits. Naruto had followed after Kakashi instead, fighting their numbers with his own. Sasuke had no option but to cover for Sakura.

He hadn't done a very good job. When he buried his second chidori into a man's chest, his legs gave out, and the darkness of the rain replaced the sharingan's clarity. Sakura had already been bleeding by then, he could smell it on her, and Sasuke thought that this was it—Sasuke thought that—

Well, it didn't matter what he thought. Sakura's hand had looped around his forearm, then, and with a burst of strength he hadn't thought her capable of, she dragged him into the river with her. His first instinct was to resist—he could not go far, nor keep himself afloat for long. But Sakura … Sometimes, he forgot she was the best strategist on their team (or maybe he made himself forget).

When had she learned water-breathing jutsu? When had she realized that the river's rapids would either take them away from the fighting, or act as a cover for their scent and heartbeat? It had been risky, but he owed her.

"That was … good thinking," he said, voice hoarse. It was tiring him to even talk.

Sakura smiled, eyes averting to the ground.

"T-Thanks, Sasuke-kun," she managed, teeth chattering. Her hair was plastered to her neck, fat drops of water sliding into her clothes.

He sat down next to her and set off to start a fire. The tree branches he'd been able to collect were as wet as the two of them, but they were better than nothing. He hadn't wanted to set out too far, too exhausted to forage or to fight off another attack.

"Can you do a fire release?" he asked, piling the wood between them.

Sakura, for all her previous cleverness, only now seemed to realize Sasuke wouldn't be able to start a fire. The thought irritated and embarrassed him, and he turned away from her, focusing on the wooden pile.

"I … I think so." Her words were slow, and muttered through grit teeth, but she approached him all the same. "L-Like the one Iruka-sensei taught us, right?"

Sasuke couldn't remember which one Iruka-sensei had taught them, and he didn't rightly care. But he nodded all the same.

Sakura nodded back, and went through the motions. Her fingers were too cold, though, too stiff, and the flame sputtered halfway throughout her mouth. She choked, then, and doubled over.

Sasuke's mind was a chorus of alarm bells. He grabbed at her shoulders, propping her up, and realized her face wasn't the only place she was bleeding out of.

"Idiot!" he heard himself say, livid.

Sakura didn't blush; a bad sign. She averted her gaze to the floor, releasing the seal in order to press her hands against her ribs. The fabric of her dress was as dark there as anywhere else, which was why he hadn't been able to pinpoint her injury.

"S-Sorry," Sakura said, eyes bright.

The last thing he needed right now was for her to cry. But to have her passing out on him was not an option either. It was one thing to wait outside while she bandaged herself; it was another to have to do it himself.

"Take off your dress," Sasuke said, and tried not to think of what those words meant outside of here and now.

Sakura raised wide eyes to his. Her face was still pale, but he had seen her skin ink many times before, and he could tell she would've blushed otherwise. She was more sensitive about this kind of thing—he had never seen her shed a single piece of clothing, even when they got caught in the rain and had to wring their clothes dry. … Why was he even keeping track of that, anyway?

"W-Wh—" she mumbled, eyes frantic. Her eyebrows were turning upwards, a sure sign she was halfway into crying.

"You need to bind it," Sasuke cut in, voice hard, before she could make this more awkward than it should be. "Or do you plan to bleed out?"

The cogs in her head were turning. He could see them in the way her eyes flicked to her hand, pressing against her side, and then back to Sasuke's eyes. She knew he was right; she was the smartest one on the team. But she was the most sentimental one, too, and maybe this situation was hard on her.

He looked at the wall, then, unwilling to maintain eye contact, and clicked his tongue. The back of his neck was warm.

"I'll stand guard outside," Sasuke said, getting up on unsteady feet and walking to the mouth of the cave. His knees were shaking, so he sat down and leant against the wall, listening to the rain.

The first time she got herself considerably injured, and Kakashi was nowhere in sight. Sasuke cursed their bad luck, closing his eyes and evening out his breath. Brooding, a habit he tended to fall back on, wasn't going to help him now.

Sasuke grit his teeth and thought, instead.

If the worst came to worst, he could try to cauterize her wound with fire, but he didn't know whether his body—or hers—could take it. Chakra exhaustion was dangerous too, but bleeding out was a faster way to die. If Kakashi could get here in time, if Sasuke bet his life on his teacher's timing … well, they would both probably die in here.

Somehow, Sasuke found it in himself to smirk at that. Ridiculous, considering. Perhaps he was losing it.

Behind him, clothes rustled, and fell to the floor with a splattering sound. Sasuke's eyes opened, a reflex, and met the dark skies outside. His neck was warm again, because he knew what that sound meant.

Suddenly, the sound of the storm seemed very far away. The wind died down, the rain's roar trickled into a whisper, and all there was was the metal sound of a bag's latch being opened; the elastic sound of bandages unrolling; Sakura's hissing breath—

His whole body tensed. Years of discipline kept him from turning towards her, but his cold hands still closed at his sides.

It hurt, to clean a wound that was yours. He knew this from experience. Shaking fingers fumbled the gauze, made it harder than it should be. Traitorous nerves delayed the process, shifting the focus from healing to how much it hurt.

So when her breath began to stutter, Sasuke was already expecting the call.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura whispered, through her teeth. Even her voice felt wet, now. "I-I'm sorry, I—I need you to help me."

With one last, calming breath, he got up. He made sure his expression didn't betray how the heat slithered from his neck to his face, and looked at her. He was careful about it, taking in her in fast and then focusing only on the ridges of her ribs.

It wasn't the worst cut he had ever seen. But, then again, that wasn't fair to say. He was sure she had never gotten so badly cut, before. Why would she, when they kept her safe? When they were supposed to keep her safe?

Inside him, that heat was flaring, angry and bright.

He found the gauze without looking at it. Her skin already smelled of the bitter poultry they used as on-field disinfectant, which was a relief. It was one thing to—well, it was a gooey paste, and—and his hands would have to— no. Sasuke focused, face twisting in anger.

Sakura shifted under that look, and he made the mistake to look up at her.

Under the fishnet mesh, her bra strap was a light color. He couldn't tell which, exactly, but it had polka-dots, and Sakura's eyes were closed tight, teeth biting at her lower lip, and he … And he focused on her stomach again, cheeks burning. He didn't move for a second, trying to get his bearings, and then, with careful hands, pressed the gauze into the cut. Sakura tensed, from her legs to her shoulders, but she didn't cry out.

"Y-You're doing good," Sasuke heard himself say, from very far away.

Sakura didn't reply, just caught his shoulder with one tiny hand and squeezed until the water in the fabric was dripping down her wrist. Sasuke reached for the bandages despite the handicap, despite how badly his hands were shaking, and then focused only on the patch of pinkening gauze.

Sakura's skin was rippling with goosebumps; he could see them up close when he leaned in to roll the bandage around her back. The sight made him want— He startled, then, and leaned as far back as he could, refusing to think of anything other than the end of the bandage.

Logic told him that it had only been minutes, but he felt as if he'd run a marathon as he sat back away from her, eyes on the wall. Her hand fell from his shoulder and left a cooler spot.

"T-Thank you, S-Sasuke-kun," he heard her say between still-chattering teeth, pitiable and embarrassed.

He sympathized. It had been a long time since he'd felt so miserable. Thus Sasuke somehow managed a grunt and turned away, leaving her to finish the work herself. His clothes were a wet blanket of ice, but he felt like he'd spent the day under the sun.

There was a rustling sound, then, and Sakura approached the pile of twigs without looking at Sasuke. She was dressed again, the dress plastered against damp skin, but she looked better off for it.

The flame she spouted was weak, and smoky enough that she coughed again. This time, however, she had been expecting it, and pressed both her hands against her side as soon as she'd finished the seal.

Sasuke leant into the warmth of the rising fire, and heard her sigh in relief.

It felt good. It would've felt even better if he could take his shirt off to dry, but something inside him stopped him from doing so. The thought of standing bare-chested next to Sakura, knowing exactly what was under that red cheongsam—

He swallowed, and focused on the crackling of the damp wood. When he looked at her, fast and subtle, he found her hugging her knees and looking at the opposite side of the cave. Her hair was a wet curtain, keeping him from watching her face, so he stared at the fire again.

"Go to sleep," he said, voice haggard. "I'll keep watch."

Sakura startled, shoulders tensing, but finally looked at him. There were faint spots of color under her eyes, the first good sign in a while.

"I-It's okay," she replied, looking away from him again. Her hands moved from the insides of her elbows to her shoulders, to where her mesh shirt had ended. Why did he remember that? "I can be the lookout for now. Y-You should rest, Sasuke-kun!"

The false cheer in her voice was better than the embarrassment. He weighed the options he had available, but decided he was better off doing what she said.

"Don't mess it up," he replied, and turned his back to the fire, feeling the heat spread across the damp fabric of his shirt.

"I won't." Her voice was soft, soft enough that he had to strain to hear.

Outside, the rain continued to fall. Sasuke thought of how his knuckles had slid against her spine, closed his hands, and pretended to sleep.

Later, when Kakashi's hounds finally tracked them down, it was easy to pretend nothing had happened. Both his chakra and her wounds were recovering, and Naruto's embellished story of how they'd defeated the bandits was a much-needed distraction.

Sasuke lingered back with Kakashi, eyes on his teammates, while Naruto asked Sakura about their side of the story. She smiled, tense lines and pinked ears, while Kakashi leaned into Sasuke, and said:

"You did a good job patching her up."

Sasuke fell in the trap with a spectacular choking sound.

"Wh—how did you—" He went quiet, but it was too late. He had already given himself away.

Kakashi rose to full height, grinning through his mask. Sasuke wished he had just one more chidori in him.

"Underneath the underneath, Sasuke," Kakashi said, shrugging. If possible, his smile widened. "But, in this case, you would know better than I would."

Sasuke's blood went cold, and then boiling. He thought of polka-dots, of thin meshes, of the way her stomach tightened when his arm guards brushed against her skin. The details were so clear; he was unsure if he'd activated the sharingan.

"That's—that's not—" he let out, through grit teeth that had nothing to do with the cold.

"What? What?" Naruto asked, from the front. His eyes were squinting, suspicious. "What's going on over there, bastard?"

Sakura looked too. Their eyes met, and Sasuke's face went hot as they both hurriedly looked somewhere else.

"It's nothing, Naruto," Kakashi said, heaving a tired sigh. "Just making sure my dear students are alright."

Sakura was suspicious now, too, but she knew better than to ask. She just kept on walking forward, pulling Naruto by the arm.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Kakashi said, all traces of amusement gone from his voice.

Sasuke looked at him again, evaluating.

"Don't be," he said, keeping the smirk off his voice, and picked up the pace before Kakashi could reply.