Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

For When the Fire Burns Bright

"Words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself."

- Mark Twain

When Sasuke asks Sakura to marry him, he half expects her to say yes and half expects her to say no. A small part of him thinks that if she says no, his respect for her might double. It would show she did change over the six years he was gone. He's aware she isn't the same person anymore, but to what extent he couldn't be sure of until now.

She pauses in the action of discarding her latex gloves, the soft question he spoke hovering in the air between them. He just came in for a monthly checkup, and although he had been fancying the idea in his mind for the last couple of weeks - after all, any thought of marriage or restoring the clan his brain instantly relates to Sakura - he surprises even himself for speaking so abruptly.

The medic twists her head around to look at him, but to his confusion she wears only an expression of curiosity. Her voice, when she speaks, doesn't shake or waver. It's smooth, controlled. Nothing like what she used to be, and he wonders why he's only taking notice of such a change now.

"What brings this about?" she asks.

He answers, "The Uchiha clan will not die with me."

It's all he offers. This simple, unreserved explanation, and a proposal.

Sakura tilts her head to the side, and smiles a small smile. "Sure, Sasuke-kun," she says, turning back to her work. "I'll marry you."

He expected to be disappointed in her if she said yes. Because that would mean she's still the same, right? Her saying yes would mean she hasn't changed at all, right?

Sasuke watches her read off his medical statistics without saying a word. She stands there in front of him with a calm, unaffected aura, meeting his eyes every once in a while to make sure he's paying attention.

He finds that he isn't disappointed in the least.

Uchiha Sakura, he thinks to himself the day before their wedding. The thought of his name with hers never even occurred to him. Not until now.

Uchiha Sakura.

The name forms silently on his lips as he lays motionless in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

When he falls asleep, he dreams of a little pink-haired girl with bright green eyes who tells him she loves him with all of her heart, and of a nineteen-year-old kunoichi whom he almost never sees anymore, because that little girl has long since been replaced by a woman whose priorities expand far beyond him.

"You know, the groom isn't supposed to see the bride beforehand on the wedding day," Sakura comments, standing in front of a mirror as she smoothes down the sides of her kimono with her palms.

Sasuke blinks, realizing he has just been discovered. He clears his throat and steps out from behind the door, bowing slightly in apology.

She turns to face him, smiling softly. "It's okay. I don't really mind. Only a half hour left anyhow, right?"

He fixes his gaze upon her, on her pink hair braided into an elegant up-do, on her composed pale jade eyes and the simple white kimono fitted perfectly to her small form.

She's looking at him expectantly now, waiting for a response, and he finally finds it in him to open his mouth.

"You don't have to do this, Sakura," he says, voice low. "I won't force you."

"I know you won't," she replies immediately, confident, and takes a few steps closer until she is standing before him. "You're not a bad person, Sasuke-kun. Don't worry about me. I'm doing this out of my own free will." She offers him a smile, then reaches down and takes his hands in hers. "I promise," she continues steadily, her gaze never leaving his, "that as your wife, I will do my best to please you. So don't worry." Again she smiles. Squeezing his hands lightly, she releases him, and backs away. "I won't bother you like I did when we were twelve," she jokes. "Unless you wish otherwise, it'll be like I'm not even there."

He stands there in silence, eyes cast upon a random spot on the opposite wall. He wants to say something to her, tell her that he doesn't mind having her around and that he will try his hardest as her husband as well, but the words refuse to find purchase upon his lips.

"For your own safety," Sakura's voice brings him back to reality, "I would suggest you leave before Ino comes back. I might not be one to fuss, but if she knew you were here with me all hell would break loose. Trust me."

Her smile enters his gaze once more, and he nods at her before doing as she says and exiting the room, unspoken words dying away with each step he takes.

It's their first kiss, he realizes, as her lips touch his ever so lightly. The crowd cheers, someone catcalls - probably Naruto - and when Sakura pulls away - he was motionless, caught in his own revelation the whole time - her lips curve up, but her eyes are searching his, flickering back and forth with the most minute of movements.

Her smile dims a little, her eyes finished with their search - what was she looking for? he wonders; what did she find? - and she turns to face the crowd.

Sasuke is left unmoving beside her with nothing but a small frown gracing his features.

He told her once as they entered his room that she didn't have to do this, either, but she reminded him that this was all her own decision, and that he shouldn't worry.

Because it doesn't look like he's going to move, she undresses herself first and waits a few moments as he follows suit, and then she walks to him and grasps his hand, pulling him to the bed. She notices that he doesn't look at her, like he's embarrassed or trying to spare her dignity.

Sakura resists the urge to laugh as they fall onto the bed. Again, his gaze remains focused on anything that isn't her, and with a soft sigh she takes his face in her palms and forces him to look at her.

His obsidian eyes fix upon her green gaze, slightly startled.

Because she knows that he is Uchiha Sasuke, and she knows that even this amount of contact must be uncomfortable for him, she doesn't kiss him, as she would like to. Instead she smiles, and tells him quietly, "It's okay to look, Sasuke-kun. I'm your wife."

He leans down to her instead, and, taking the initiative, hesitantly presses their lips together.

Sasuke doesn't know how else to begin, but everything seems to flow from that point on, and it's only when she's flushed underneath him, green eyes sparking with heat, and he's propped upon his elbows above her, wanting so bad to just thrust into her again and again, that he reminds himself to be gentle.

So he enters her slowly, cautiously, watching her face intently for any sign of pain or discomfort, ready to stop if she so wishes.

But there aren't any, and he can't help but be puzzled.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

"I'm fine," she breathes, and his own breath falters when she bucks her hips into his, wanting more. "Keep going."

"It doesn't hurt?" He has to stop himself from giving her what she wants. For some reason, there is something about this question that unsettles him.

Sakura stills beneath him, huffing out an exhale. "This isn't my first time, Sasuke-kun," she replies in a quiet tone. "I'm all right, don't worry."

Before he can respond, before his mind can take hold of this information and turn it into something explosive, she pulls him down for another kiss, and then he is moving inside her, and the pleasure nearly makes him forget.

Nearly, but not quite.

Later that night, long after they have finished and Sakura is sleeping on the opposite side of the bed, Sasuke remains awake, his gaze never moving from the form of his wife.

Thousands of questions run through his mind without end, and he is powerless to stop them.

He wonders who the man is, how she knows him, what he looks like. If they dated, or if she ever loved him.

He knows it's none of his business - or maybe it is, because aren't they married now? - but he can't help but wonder.

Sasuke falls asleep that night and dreams of a little pink-haired girl smiling at a boy that isn't him.

A month passes just like that.

She's gone before him every morning. Their first night together hasn't been repeated, and Sasuke knows that she only needs his saying so, but he only tells her goodnight when he climbs into bed and that is it. And she sleeps on the opposite side of the bed and repeats the words to him, and then he wakes up each morning and she isn't there, off to the hospital where she works everyday.

He trains and goes on missions and he barely sees her. It's like nothing has changed at all.

It's like their marriage is merely a title, and they simply live under it.

She works the night shift when needed. It's becoming more of a frequent thing nowadays.

Sasuke remembers the first time being seven weeks after they were married. She came home on her break while he was out training and left him a note saying she'd be back later than usual, telling him not to worry, as always.

Like any other day, he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and went to bed, lying there with his eyes locked on her side of the mattress. It was ten o'clock then.

An hour passed. He couldn't sleep.

When it came to be three o'clock and she still wasn't back, and he still couldn't sleep, he decided something must've happened to her, and his mind entertained several bloody, gruesome scenarios that had him off his feet in an instant.

He collided with her halfway out the front door, knocking her off balance, but she regained her footing easily and stood back, eyeing him warily.

"Everything okay, Sasuke-kun?" she asked, frowning. "Where's the fire?"

"You're back," was all he was able to get out.

She stared at him. "I'm back."

He noticed the tired look in her eyes, the shadows that hovered under them, and he stepped back silently to let her through.

Sakura gave him one last questioning look before she passed by him and entered the house.

And Sasuke breathed out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding.

He comes home from a two-day long mission to find her in the kitchen, scrubbing at the surface of the table with her hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of cotton shorts. She has earbuds in her ears, humming along to whatever music is playing as she cleans. Her hips sway a little, moving with the music.

Sasuke is reminded that it's her day off today. The first she's had in a long time, she told him.

He opens his mouth, about to tell her that she should relax while she has the chance, that he can finish the cleaning, but then he sees that she's smiling as she works, and he doesn't see her smile much anymore, so he leaves her be.

Looking at her sleeping one night, three months since they married, Sasuke wonders if she still loves him, after all these years. She agreed to be bonded to him in such a way, knowing fully that he didn't have such feelings for her, so there must be something.

Sasuke notices that her brows are drawn together in her sleep, as if she is unhappy, and he begins to doubt.

But what does it matter to him, anyway? He is the one who doesn't care.

He chants this to himself as he falls asleep, but dreams filled with pink and green betray him.

Sasuke returns from a mission two weeks later at the same time she is returning from the hospital. He sees her step out of the doors, and is debating going to her - walking one's wife home from work should be normal, he thinks - when another medic steps out to walk beside her.

It's a male, and Sasuke freezes in his spot.

The man is plain-looking, with brown hair and brown eyes, but Sakura is laughing at something he has said, so apparently the man is not so bland.

She doesn't laugh much around him anymore, and Sasuke stares hard, nearly creating holes through the man beside his wife, trying to decipher what it is exactly that enthuses her so.

He overhears parts of their conversation, and only when the man pauses and says something about "Uchiha-san" does Sakura's smile falter.

She lowers her voice, but Sasuke hears the words "distant" and "trying" leave her mouth.

The man smiles gently and places a hand on her shoulder, consoling her, and Sasuke stares hard at this as well, surprised the man cannot feel such a heated gaze upon him.

Sakura grins in reassurance and the man takes his hand away. Sasuke feels himself loosen slightly.

The two bid each other goodnight, and Sakura begins to head off on her own, back to their shared house. Sasuke counts three minutes exactly before deciding to follow after her.

That night, while in bed, Sasuke awake on his side and Sakura sleeping on hers, he leans over and touches her cheek with his fingertips just barely, a mere brush.

He doesn't know in what context the words "distant" and "trying" were used, but that touch was not distant, and he most certainly will try to crack the wall that seems to separate them.

The first time she went out grocery shopping for them was three days after their marriage ceremony. She grabbed her keys and her bag and visited Sasuke for a last check before leaving.

"Anything you want in particular?" she asked.

He looked up at her from his place on the couch, sharpening his weapons. Looking thoughtful for a moment, he opened his mouth and began, "Toma -"

"Tomatoes," she provided, and waved the grocery list in her hand. "Got 'em already. How could I forget your favorite food?"

Sasuke blinked. "That's all, then."

"All right, I'll be back in a little while!" she called, and disappeared out the front door.

She never asked what he needed again, and now he always comes home with a fridge full of ripe red tomatoes just for him.

Sakura arrives home just a little past her usual time one night, some five months since they've been married. Sasuke's eye cracks open, watching as she enters their bedroom and settles herself down at the single desk, silently placing an arm's worth of paperwork on it. With a hefty sigh, she begins to shuffle through the papers, starting the night's work.

The skin below her eyes is dark, as he can tell from the small lamp placed on the desk. He figures she gets around five hours of sleep each night if she's lucky, about three regularly. There's always work for her to do, always something keeping her going.

For the next couple of hours, he watches her with hooded eyes, studying her as she works, and when she's finally done and makes her way over to the bed after showering, he snaps his eyes closed, pretending to sleep.

Sasuke feels her presence stop before him. There's a soft rustle, and then his hair is pushed out of his eyes, and her lips press ever so gently against his forehead.

She pulls away, walking around to her side of the bed, and he allows his eyes to flash open. They're wide, staring sightlessly at the wall. He is acutely aware of every movement she makes beside him, the light breaths that escape her increasingly apparent, filling his ears.

He remains like that for longer than he can remember. It seems like her lips are still on his skin, and where she touched him nearly burns with intensity.

That night, his dreams delve into the realm of temptations, of green eyes sparking with passion, of his fingers pushing into pink hair, of their bodies moving in sync and unfamiliar, overwhelming pleasure pulsing through his body.

He wakes up with a gasp, bolting upward in the bed, his breaths slightly labored. Sweat beads on his brow, and his fingers grasp the unruly sheets tightly.

Sakura's not there. She probably left for the hospital hours ago, and he takes advantage of her absence to calm himself.

Sasuke takes a few deep breaths, slowly releasing his grip on the sheets. The air around him seems blistering hot, and he throws off the blankets and steps out of bed, pushing a shaky hand through his untidy hair.

A shower, he thinks. He needs a shower. One with ice cold water to soothe his simmering skin and his whirling mind.

She arrives home at a decent hour that night. It's around ten o'clock, and she yawns as she steps into the house, looking forward to a rare good night's rest.

Sakura enters the kitchen and freezes in her step. Sasuke's sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his forehead resting against his clasped fingers. He glances upward as she enters the room, obsidian eyes alert and focused on her.

"What are you doing up?" she questions, tilting her head slightly, puzzled.

He opens his mouth. "Waiting for you."

She blinks, and stares. "Waiting...for me?"

He nods.

Her eyes widen, and instantly she is by his side, her hands running over his arms and down his sides, frantic. "Are you okay, Sasuke-kun?" she worries. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

His gaze glints with the smallest hint of amusement. He gently takes her chakra-glowing hands away and holds them in his own, halting her movements. Her pale jade eyes flicker with surprise.

"I'm all right," he says quietly.

"But," she lets out, confused, "you never wait...are you sure you're fine? Because if there's something wrong I -"

"Sakura."

She silences, her eyes still locked with his.

Her husband merely leans down and presses their lips together, his hand moving to grip the back of her head, keeping her steady.

She remains still for several moments, her wide gaze taking in his closed eyelids with apparent shock.

Sasuke pulls away after a good ten seconds. His wordlessness questions her, his eyes seeking something from her as he stares at her quietly.

Sakura swallows, and responds with another kiss, this time exercising her lips heatedly against his. Her hands find purchase upon his chest, and she settles herself in his lap, taking notice of and giving into his desires.

And when they've made their way into their shared bedroom and their heavy breathing fills the room, Sasuke's name falling in short gasps from her mouth, his hips rocking in a steady yet somehow irregular motion, he wraps his arms around her and can't help but think that she has given him more than what he ever dreamed of receiving.

And her name is moaned out when he reaches his peak inside her.

They're lying in bed, almost an hour after their act. Sasuke's eyes are fixed on the ceiling, every ounce of his body acutely aware of his wife beside him. She's awake as well, a good foot away, in the same position.

Sasuke is the first to break the silence, his voice, when he speaks, low and unwavering.

"Who is he?"

She turns on her side to look at him, pulling the sheets up to cover her bare breasts. He doesn't meet her puzzled gaze, still focused on the ceiling, mouth a blank, unrevealing line.

"What do you mean?" she asks, green eyes studying the smooth planes of his face from what she can see in the darkness.

Sasuke's lips curve into a frown, brows furrowing, as if he is frustrated but can't figure out exactly why. "The man you gave your virginity to."

Sakura's mouth parts into an astounded "O." She resists the urge to pinch herself, knowing that no matter how shocking, this is not a dream, and Sasuke has really just asked her such a question. "I - I..." she stutters, grasping for coherency.

Finally, Sasuke turns on his side to face her, fixing his hard, calculating gaze upon her.

She gains her composure somewhat, blinking, and then takes a breath to steady herself, eyes shifting away from him. "He was my target for a seduction mission about two years ago. I killed him afterward."

Sakura raises her gaze to meet a pair of obsidian eyes swirling with obvious repulsion and vehemence.

Although, inwardly, he is pleased it was someone she didn't care for, someone who she would never even consider keeping close to her.

"Tsunade sent you on such a mission?" he responds flatly.

Sakura merely nods. "What happened on the mission...was a last resort. I wasn't as experienced as I am now. At the time, it was the only way to complete the mission, so I went for it. I'm fine now, don't worry."

Sasuke closes his eyes and inhales, exhaling slowly after. "You always say that."

"Hm?"

His eyes flash open, serious and focused solely on her. "Tell me not to worry."

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out, trying to find words to voice.

"Do you expect me not to?" he continues, and his voice is inexpressive, stoic.

"I guess not, Sasuke-kun," she finally says softly. "I guess not. I guess...I just say that so much to try to trick myself into believing you do."

And she turns in the opposite direction until all he can see is her bare back, unrevealing and curved, as if to shield herself from whatever response he may give.

The words "I'm sorry I have given you any reason to think otherwise" flash through his mind.

But because he is Uchiha Sasuke, he simply twists around and remains unspeaking, his obsidian eyes staring blankly at the wall before him.

When he dreams, it's of him running after a pink-haired woman who evades him no matter how hard he tries.

"Sasuke-kun."

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

Something pokes him in the side.

"Sasuke-kun."

He groans quietly, his eyes finally blinking open to find that his vision is filled with pink.

Sakura's standing above him, dressed in her white medical cloak, green eyes soft. "I made you breakfast," she says, gesturing to the platter in her hands. She sets it down beside him, then backs away. "I wanted to say I was sorry," she continues slowly, "for what I said yesterday. I know you do care for me in your own way, Sasuke-kun." She pauses, runs a shaky hand through her short pink hair, and sighs. "It was wrong of me to accuse you of something like that. I'm sorry, truly I am."

Sasuke doesn't say anything. It's like he's gone numb. Never did he expect her to apologize for such a thing.

Sakura smiles at him. "I'll be off to work, then. And," she adds suddenly, "before I forget, I have a mission tomorrow. I'm leaving right after work, so I won't see you until I return. I'll be back soon enough."

She smiles once more, then steps out of the room, and disappears.

Sasuke stares at where she left for the next couple of minutes. It's only when he remembers that she made him breakfast does he move and start to eat.

Everything she made tastes just like how his mother used to cook.

The next morning, he realizes that Sakura said she left on a mission. She hasn't had a mission the five months or so they've been married.

He freezes in the action of brushing his teeth when this thought enters his mind. Something's off, he can instantly sense. Sakura isn't sent on missions - she's too valuable to the hospital - unless there's a specific one that only she can accomplish.

And if it requires her skills specifically, it must be dangerous.

The next thing he knows he is standing at the door to the Hokage office, knocking as he impatiently waits for Tsunade to answer.

She appears a good three minutes later, a scowl set on her face when he enters her line of sight.

"What the hell do you want, Uchiha?" she snaps, but allows him into her office anyway.

He stands before her with his back straightened, shoulders set, and eyes a cool onyx.

"What was Sakura's mission?" he begins, tone demanding, not allowing room for argument. "You never send her on any."

Tsunade raises a brow, resting her chin upon her folded hands as she sits at her desk. "That information is classified, Uchiha. You should know that by now."

His eyes narrow into an unwavering glare.

Tsunade snorts. "That won't work on me, sorry to say. Now get your ass out of here before I gladly do it myself."

"Hokage-sama."

This captures her attention. The Uchiha never regards her with honor like that.

"What?"

"Please." There's no sign of pleading on his face, but she can sense the unsettled way he holds himself. "Sakura is my wife. If she were to be placed in danger, I would like to know."

Tsunade rubs the palm of her hands against her eyes, then sighs and leans forward in her seat. "My apprentice will be fine, Uchiha. She's gone on solo S-ranked missions long before you came back and completed them without a hitch. This shouldn't be any different."

His fists clench at the sound of "solo" and "S-ranked."

But knowing Tsunade's quick temper and unrestrained strength, he keeps his mouth shut, bows, and backs out of the room.

Four days have passed. She still hasn't returned.

He lies awake at two o'clock in the morning, the clutches of insomnia holding him as they have since she left. Black shadows color the skin under his eyes, and his nerves are strung taut with no hope for relief.

He stares blankly at the vacant spot on her side of the bed. His mind is almost - almost - able to fill in the emptiness, almost able to make it seem like her sleeping face is right there, her short pink hair lying around her in a pastel halo, eyes closed in peaceful slumber.

Then he blinks, and reality crashes into him with full force.

Jaw clenched, he pushes himself roughly out of bed and leaves the room, needing to get out, keep himself occupied, try to dim down the horrid thoughts that taint his mind.

She said she'd be back soon.

Liar, he seethes. A goddamn lie.

Even Tsunade, who he saw a few times in the short - it seemed like a lifetime - period Sakura's been gone, looked daunted. The Hokage said if the kunoichi didn't return in the next two days, she would send out a search team, to which he immediately volunteered - demanded - to be a part of, and to which she reluctantly agreed.

Sasuke makes his way out of the house, finding that the confinement is suffocating him, and heads toward the village entrance. His gaze locks upon the form of a bench as he walks on, and he slows to a halt beside it.

This is the same bench he left Sakura on when he defected seven years ago.

Gradually, he settles himself upon it, the cold of the stone piercing him through to his core.

Memories of that night take over his thoughts. Her pale jade eyes glassy with tears, lips trembling as she told him she loved him, and then the sight of her pink hair fluttering in the wind as he stood behind her and rendered her unconscious.

"Thank you."

It wasn't right. For her to be the one out there on her own, facing unknown things, leaving him to do nothing but sit and wait and steadily lose his mind.

No, this isn't how it was supposed to be.

"I have an injured shinobi over here! Someone get help!"

He is jerked roughly from his thoughts. His body goes ice cold in the span of mere seconds.

There's the sound of ninja sandals slapping against pavement. Raised voices fill his ears.

"That's the Hokage's apprentice! Hurry, she's lost too much blood -"

"Get her to the hospital, quick -"

"She's not gonna make it! Look at her, she's barely breathing -"

"Sakura-san! Sakura-san, stay with us! We'll get you help soon -"

"Fuck, someone get a medic over here -"

"She needs blood -"

"Guys, she's not gonna -"

"Shut up, she'll be fine -"

"Sakura-san -"

Their voices slowly drown out until all he can hear is the blood pounding through his head. The sound of his racing heartbeat overwhelms him.

And then he moves faster than he ever has before. One second, he is nearly hyperventilating on the wintry stone bench, and the next he is pushing a large group of jounin out of the way.

Crimson. It's all crimson. Covering her, dripping off of her.

"Sakura," he chokes. The ninja holding her limp, blood-drenched body gives him a panicked look.

"Uchiha-san, please, get someone to help her," he rushes. "I-I don't know if she - shit, when I found her she was just lying there unconscious and I -"

"Give her to me." It's like he's gone into shock. He's an apparition, watching from above as his body stands there with nothing in his mind but the thought of Sakura and the blood staining her.

The ninja holding her looks indecisive. Sasuke's eerily calm eyes, however, finally have him giving the kunoichi to her husband.

Sasuke hears the words "Please, Uchiha-san, get her to help -" before he is sprinting - making sure Sakura doesn't jostle; there's no telling what wounds see bears underneath all that goddamn blood - as fast as he can over the rooftops of Konoha.

He bursts into the white halls of the hospital, and instantly his voice raises above the low murmur he hears.

"Someone help!" he shouts hoarsely. "My wife is injured!"

Several medics come running over, immediately calling to each other in steady tones.

One of them - the brown-haired man Sakura walked with that night he saw them - gasps, eyes wide. "S-Sakura-san. What - Uchiha-san, what happened -"

"We need to stabilize her ASAP," another yells.

"Get a stretcher over here, would you? And we need blood -"

"Type O. That's what she is."

"Someone get Tsunade-sama! She's fading quick -"

And Sakura is pulled away from him, out of his arms. For a moment, her body is blocked from his view, and a sharp stab of panic impales him.

She's being placed on a stretcher now. A swarm of medics surround her, their hands glowing with chakra as they desperately try to salvage whatever life is left in her.

"She's poisoned. Badly. It'll reach her heart in the next few minutes if we don't -"

"What is it? We need an antidote -"

"I've never seen this before! Shit, Kazuki, get Tsunade-sama as fast as you can -"

Sasuke has never been so terrified. He is dimly aware that his hands are trembling, the horror clutching his heart in an unbreakable vise.

She's being wheeled into a room now. He can do nothing but follow as they hook her up to tubes, pumping unknown fluids into her system, their glowing hands running frantically over her body.

One of the medics takes notice of him standing just behind them, black eyes wide - it's like he's reliving the night of his parents' death, so unbelievably scared he is - as he stares at his wife, hands shaking, breath coming in short, quick bursts. The medic steps away and comes to stand before him.

"I'm sorry, Uchiha-san, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave -"

The medic's hands grasp his shoulders, beginning to turn him away.

Sasuke finally registers the words that have been spoken to him, what the medic is trying to do, and his unsteady gaze flashes to the man before him.

"Don't touch me," he says softly over the commotion in the room.

The medic frowns, pushing harder. "Even if you are her husband," he replies sternly, "we can't have anyone else present -"

"I said don't touch me!"

And his hands find purchase around the medic's neck, and the unfortunate man is knocked unconscious as his head slams into the ground.

This draws attention to him. More medics surround him, hands pushing, pulling, trying to get him out of the room.

Trying to take him away from his dying wife. Away from Sakura.

He feels the Sharingan activate beyond his will. Chakra flows in heavy amounts through him, and his mind registers the fact that these people are trying to separate him from one of the most important people in his life, and in this case they now have become his enemies.

He bares his teeth at them, and something akin to a snarl erupts in his chest. He raises his clenched fist, fully prepared to kill -

"Uchiha!"

Sasuke finds a pair of amber eyes glaring at him. It's the Hokage.

"Get out. Now."

His gaze narrows. He opens his mouth.

"Goddammit, your wife is dying, Uchiha!" she growls. "Let us do our job without you killing my medics and get the fuck out."

Behind her, he sees Sakura's eyes fly open. Her mouth parts in a silent scream, and her body arches off the surgery table.

The machines she is hooked up to spike wildly, beeping out of control.

Everything within him goes cold. Sakura's eyes focus sightlessly on the ceiling, glinting with pain and fear.

"Hurts," she gasps, and her hands move upward, trying to pull at the open wound on her chest.

Tsunade's attention has fully left him now. She's beside the bloodied kunoichi in an instant. "Stabilize her wounds," she snaps, and already her palms are glowing as she works. "Someone get Shizune and have her find an antidote for the poison. If we don't move quickly she won't have much longer." Chakra pumping furiously, she turns her gaze to Sakura's panicked eyes. "Sakura," she says softly. "Look at me, Sakura."

The pink-haired kunoichi is trembling uncontrollably, but she moves her gaze regardless, only semi aware of the chaos around her.

"We're going to try to save you, Sakura," the Hokage continues, eyes gentle. "Stay with us. Please."

Sakura begins to shake her head, tears mixing with the blood trickling down her cheeks. "I-I-I c-can't -"

Her body jerks, and her focus is completely lost as her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she falls unconscious once more.

"Shitshitshitshit," he hears Tsunade mutter fiercely. "Sakura, come on -"

Sasuke sinks to the ground slowly, his back sliding down the wall behind him, the sounds gradually fading from his ears. He vaguely thinks he might be going into shock.

She's going to die. His mind amplifies this thought, playing it in a repeating loop. He can visualize the words like a vibrant sign that is impossible to ignore.

His eyes shift to focus on her face. He's never seen such a pained looked. And it hits him twice as hard because she's never one to give into physical suffering. Maybe mental, yes, but never physical.

She must be going though hell right now. He knows from first hand experience how much pain one can feel. But this -

This is something else.

He faintly realizes that he's being dragged away, out of the room, away from her.

Before the medic leaves him, Sasuke's hands shoots up to grab the man's wrist.

He can't even recognize his own voice, so cracked and ragged it is. "Will she be okay?" He has to ask.

The medic's eyes turn sorrowful, and Sasuke can see what he is really thinking. "I don't know, Uchiha-san. We're going to try, but -" He breaks off, voice faltering, and when he continues his tone is unnervingly quiet. "I just don't know."

And Sasuke is left alone out in the hall, hands held over his ears so he doesn't have to hear their words shouting that she probably will never live to see the light of day again.

"Sasuke-kun?"

In response, he merely looks at her.

She's staring at him, studying him as if searching for an answer in his blank depths. "Whenever you want to - to start a family," she says, steadfastly solemn, "I'm here. I'm prepared. I know it's why we married, so whenever you want." She nods to herself. "I won't deny you something you've been missing for so long." And she smiles. "You can trust me to be the best mother to your children I'm capable of being."

He's struck silent. When did she gain such bravery? Such confidence? Such courage?

For a moment, the image of his own mother appears in his head. And he realizes how alike the two really are.

Sakura would make a fantastic mother, he realizes.

Stunned, he nods, and replies, "I know I can. I will..." He inhales, breathing easily. "I'll keep that in mind."

And she smiles once again.

He was a fool. Such a fool to take her words for granted, to blindly assume that no harm would come her way and that they had all the time in the world to do whatever they wanted.

His fingernails dig into his scalp, drawing blood. He hardly registers the pain.

If she fell pregnant before, she would be at home right now, and he'd be beside her, silently worrying if she needed water or food or if she was uncomfortable. He can imagine her mood swings, and how he'd patiently wait out her tantrums, and how beautiful she'd look with her stomach rounded, their child growing steadily within her. He'd ask with trembling fingers if he could touch, and she'd laugh and tell him "Of course!" Then he'd rest his head against her, close his eyes, and think to himself that things couldn't be more right.

It hurts, he finds, to let his mind wander so. He swallows thickly, and his eyes never leave the form of the plain white door in front of him, behind which his wife lays. The voices and the shouting have died down. He doesn't know what has happened in the long period of time he's been sitting on the floor. His body shivers unconsciously, the cold having seeped straight to his core, and he clenches his jaw.

Then Tsunade steps out, and he is on his feet in a flash.

"What -"

The Hokage shakes her head to silence him.

Instantly, the world starts to crumble around him, falling in chipped pieces as he does nothing but stands there and stares.

Tsunade smiles grimly.

"She's alive," she says.

And suddenly everything moves back in place. His world is reformed with just those two simple - they seem so, but he knows his whole life revolves around them - words spoken to him.

When he is allowed to see her nearly a day later - "She needs to rest for now," Tsunade told him; "I'll let you know when she is cleared for visitors. Only you, though. Anything more, like Naruto, would most likely overwhelm her" - he has to take several deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

He raises his hand to knock, then scolds himself, thinking she might be asleep. So he steps inside silently and closes the door just as noiselessly behind him.

Then he finally fixes his gaze on her.

She's asleep, as he figured. Her light blue hospital gown covers whatever horrors might lie beneath, and he can only see a few faint bruises on her arms and face. Several tubes are feeding thick liquid to her stomach, and an IV drip is hooked to her wrist. She's pale, eerily so, and her expression speaks of a faint, fluttering pain, but other than that, she appears peaceful as she slumbers.

He releases a shaky breath, so relieved he is, as he steps forward and takes the single seat next to her bed.

He leans forward to rest his elbows on the edge of her bed, his chin atop his folded hands. And he waits, the only thought entering his mind the fact that she is alive and won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Sakura wakes with a small cough, after which she instantly winces, finding that the action sends a piercing burn throughout her body.

"Ouch," she croaks.

"Are you okay?" a voice instantly lets out to her left. She feels a presence loom over her, the ghosts of fingers running along her cheek frantically.

She stills, and slowly cracks her eyes open, flinching slightly at the harsh light that filters through her pupils.

A pair of black eyes immediately replace her vision of the light, concern flickering in their opaque depths.

"Sasuke-kun?" she murmurs. "Is that you?"

Then his arms have wrapped around her, pulling her limp form gently toward him, and he buries his face in her unkempt pink hair.

"Don't," he begins, voice rough, "ever do that again."

He pulls away, staring heavily into her wide eyes. "You scared me, Sakura," he finishes softly.

And he leans forward to press their mouths together, kissing her chapped lips with placidness that escapes even his comprehension.

Because she is here with him, alive.

And it is more than he could have ever asked for.

"What are you doing, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke glances down at the wash bin in his arms, accompanied by a sponge, a towel, and a bottle of body soap.

"Tsunade said you could be given a bath today," he replies, not meeting her gaze.

"Huh." Sakura peers at him. "So where's the nurse?"

The Uchiha sets the objects in his hands on her bed, then takes the bin to the sink and begins to fill it up with water. He doesn't answer.

"Are you my nurse, then, Sasuke-kun?"

He nods jerkily, eyes determinedly focused on his task.

"Well," Sakura lets out. She watches as he takes a seat beside her, and finally his gaze connects with hers.

"Is this all right with you?" he asks solemnly.

She can only smile softly at him.

When he undresses her, he does it with the utmost caution, checking her face every few seconds to make sure she isn't in pain, and he forces himself not to flinch at the various scars that now litter her torso. The wound on her chest is a raw red, freshly healed, and he remembers Sakura telling him once that medics can only do so much healing before the body's own regenerative system forcefully takes over. True to her statement, there are still a good number of gashes along her torso that had to be sewn shut, and many cuts look to be in the stages of scabbing over.

Painstakingly, he moves the sponge over her body, mindful of the tubes hooked into her stomach and the IV drip in her arm, and when he's done he dresses her with no less care, each movement meticulously hesitant.

Just as he's about to draw away, she grasps his hand and pulls him down toward her, her lips finding purchase upon his forehead. He stills, and they remain like that for a good number of seconds until she releases him and looks at him with warm, tender green eyes.

"Thank you," she says.

He simply returns the gesture.

She was ambushed by around fifty rogue jounin while on her mission, apparently. That is all Tsunade allows him to hear, but it sets his blood boiling anyway.

"I'll murder them."

This leaves his mouth matter-of-factly, as if he were merely commenting on the weather outside. Sakura, who lies in her bed beside him, lifts a brow.

"Unfortunately," she answers easily, "Tsunade-shishou has already sent out an ANBU team to hunt them down. Sorry."

Sasuke seethes quietly, glaring holes into the wall opposite him, and Sakura just chuckles at her husband's antics.

"I hate this place."

Sasuke's head jerks up as he precisely cuts an apple into even pieces. His puzzled gaze takes in the form of his wife where she sits upon her bed, staring furiously out the window, arms crossed in defiance.

"Seven full days in this hellhole is just too much," she mutters. "And to think" - with this, she throws her hands into the air, exasperated - "that after this I'm going to have to go back to work here! Goddammit!" Sakura turns her wild eyes to the closed door, and shouts, as if the woman mentioned can actually hear her, "Let me out of this shithole, Tsunade!"

He doesn't believe he's ever heard such foul language slip from his wife's mouth before. He raises a brow, picks up a fresh apple slice, and holds it out to her, hoping to calm her.

Sakura blinks as she gazes at what he offers her. A grin makes its way upon her lips.

"Do you remember when I tried to feed you apples in the hospital? It was a long time ago, when we were genin." She chews the slice thoughtfully, awaiting his answer.

Sasuke frowns down at the fruit he holds. "I knocked them out of your hand. It was rude of me."

Sakura shrugs. "If anything, I should've known you needed to be alone. I apologize for that."

He grumbles incoherently under his breath, and she just smiles at him.

"I was thinking this morning," she suddenly says, "that it's been a long time since I told you I loved you."

He stills, his hands freezing in the motion of cutting off another slice, and turns to stare at her.

She returns his bewildered eyes with a smile. "I hope you know I do, though. I've loved you since we were genin."

It pains him a little to see that she honestly doesn't expect anything from him in return, that she is so willing to give everything to him that she has to offer and be perfectly content without any response from him.

"Thank you, Sakura," he finds himself saying.

It's her turn to be puzzled.

"Truly, for everything," he continues steadily. "Thank you."

Her confused expression fades away as another smiles twists her lips, and she laughs a full, unburdened laugh. "You said that the last time I confessed, too. But I guess" - her eyes soften - "it's nice to be able to say 'you're welcome' this time around."

This time around, he isn't running away. Not now, and never again.

She's released two days later, deemed fully healed and allowed to resume her usual duties.

Sasuke walks her to the hospital everyday, still not completely convinced she's fine to be alone. He walks her home, too, waiting no matter how long it takes for her to exit the hospital's doors.

The third day, when he is about to step out of the house to escort her to the hospital, she whips toward him suddenly, expression composed and eyes fixed unswervingly on him.

"You know you don't have to do this everyday, right?" she says, and a tiny smile curves her lips upward. "I'm perfectly fine now, so you don't have to force yourself to do something like this for my sake. I can handle myself, don't -"

"I do worry, Sakura," Sasuke interrupts suddenly, voice serious, a hint of frustration in his tone.

She gapes openly.

"I worry constantly, everyday." He turns his eyes skyward. They close for a moment before opening again. "I worry if you're getting enough sleep or if you're eating properly. I worry that I'm going to come home one day and you'll have left me. I worry that some other man will charm you and court you and you will decide you desire him instead. I worry" - he pauses to take a deep breath - "that something like this will happen again and I will not be so lucky to have you still here next to me, and I want to make sure you are never thrown into danger for as long as I can help it. So, yes, Sakura, I do worry. I worry more than you can believe. Nothing you say or do will ever change that."

He shifts his gaze to her visibly shaken form, and frowns. "Now will you allow me to walk my wife to work or not?"

Sakura takes in the sight of him while she has the chance. His pitch dark hair falls messily across his forehead, sticking up randomly in the back like it always has. His broad shoulders have stiffened, palms lying flat beside him. The black long-sleeved shirt he is wearing underneath his jounin vest fits him perfectly - she remembers vaguely that she bought that for him a while ago - as do his plain black shinobi pants. His thinned lips are twisted into a subtle frown, and onyx eyes stare down at her heavily.

She thinks to herself that this man in front of her is beautiful. From his naturally cold exterior to his rare displays of affection and emotion. Everything about him. Inside and out, Uchiha Sasuke is someone who she adores, looks up to, cares about. She feels her love for him in every cell of her body.

"Will you marry me?"

Did she hear wrong? She must've. She pauses in her work and turns to face him, expecting amusement in his eyes, signaling that in some sick, twisted way, Sasuke is joking with her.

Her heart stills at the seriousness his entire being excludes, then rapidly picks up its pace, pounding.

And so she asks, "What brings this about?"

He tells her that it's because he won't allow the Uchiha clan to die with him. It's the truth, she knows. He doesn't love her, probably never will, and this is just so he can revive his clan to its full glory. It always was one of his goals, after all.

But because she is Sakura and she still loves him, regardless of everything that they have been through, she says yes.

And as the days go by and they are married and he treats her with respect, with tolerance, with a miniscule spark of warmth that she can't quite place, she thinks that if they stayed like this for the rest of forever, she would be more content that she ever has been before.

Sakura wonders how it is possible for one man to ever make another person so happy. Surely she must be bursting will all that she feels.

A little dazed and high off his words - because in Sasuke-talk this is nearly equivalent to a confession, and maybe, just maybe, with time rolling on and the days spread out before her, he will eventually find it in him to voice what she has always dreamed of hearing - she takes his offered hand, smiles a smile so vibrant it can rival even Naruto's, and says, "Of course, Sasuke-kun."

"Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable."

- Bruce Lee

A/N: Not quite too sure what I think of this. It was written entirely on my iPhone, meant to be a short and sweet type of thing, so you can't imagine my expression when I emailed it to myself and saw that it was nearly twenty-six pages in Microsoft Word. I need to learn to stop myself.

Well, seeing as how I can't seem to come up with a concrete opinion of this, leave me a review, won't you? Your thoughts mean the world to me, truly.

Please and thank you,

Silver Echo