The Phoenix Rises From the Ashes
She is very still on the table.
It's almost beautiful, red on white on red and red and red as her life drips from her body, and the white fades to grey.
Sasuke sits beside her, one cool hand clutched between his own, against his lips, and mouths denial into unfeeling fingers. Her face is turned towards him, her pale pink hair faded against the scarlet carnations that bloom between her legs.
The green has faded from her eyes.
Sasuke stares and Sasuke breaths and Sasuke refuses to believe that this is happening, that she's only acting and suddenly he's shaking her by the shoulders and screaming, wake up wake up it isn't funny don't leave me here alone wake up, until he is ripped from her side by the doctors who failed to save her, and people are telling him that they're sorry, but there's nothing they can do and he says, she isn't dead she isn't, as if this will somehow make it true.
They throw him out into the hallway and he sags back against the wall, his sweat cold and clammy against his brow. He slides, jarringly, down the wall to pool on the floor, staring at the never ending possibilities the white walls present.
They're white like asylums.
He thinks he might be going crazy. He hopes he is. He begs that it's the madness in his eyes and he's seeing things he'sâ
When they take her out on a gunnery, she been swaddled in white sheets, and he can't see her anymore. He can't follow.
The gunnery rattles as it passes him. Limply, a bleached white hand flings towards him, brushing his cheek, before a nurse hastily tucks her away.
He watches them leave, silence swollen in his throat, and buries his head in his hands.
In a minute, or an hour, but really several, Naruto comes and grabs his shoulder and drags him upright, steers him blindly down the hall and to a window, facing cradles of squalling infants.
Sasuke stares, blankly.
When Naruto talks, his voice is thick. "She looks like you."
Slowly, Sasuke looks up, following Naruto's gaze to a silent, sleeping baby, pale skin stark against her wispy black hair.
He raises his fingers to the glass.
"I don'tâ" he says brokenly, "I don't know what to do."
Naruto snorts, but is still crying. Sasuke hasn't cried. Sasuke doesn't remember how. His heart is heavy with the tears he cannot shed. "It's your daughter." Naruto says, "It's hers."
Sasuke breathes in once, raggedly, and the baby's eyes open.
They're almost stunningly green, and regard him with a soft affection so familiar; he can feel himself shatter all over again, even as something new comes.
"Sakura," he whispers in farewell, and can see her smile.
And he thanks her for everything. And he thanks her for hope.