A shinobi worth their headband need never sleep alone if they didn't want to. That wasn't just a motto or saying that described shinobi, if one had knowledge of the shadow clone jutsu (and by now Naruto had done it so many times in front of her that she could perform it in her sleep if she really wanted to) they never had to sleep without a warm body next to them. If that shinobi also had the ability to henge (and any Konoha-nin would learn that in the academy), that body could look like anyone.

When it came to relieving frustrations and loneliness, Sakura felt that step was a bit too much of a violation of whatever person she might have her shadow clone transform into. It never really bothered her, though. When stress or the loneliness of a shattered, missing team got to be too much, she didn't really mind that it was her own eyes looking at her and her own voice reassuring her. Her own hands and mouth were perfectly fine to do all the jobs she needed of them, and by morning she was always just fine, the unbreakable Sakura Haruno she'd made herself become after Sasuke and then Naruto left the village.

When the night was cold, and the faces of her missing teammates haunted her even with the photograph turned down, her own arms were a warm enough promise that everything would be alright.

The first time she ever crossed the line into transforming her shadow clone into someone else, her arm was still wrapped and oozing poisoned chakra. Sasuke's eyes had all the warmth they were missing when she'd seen him looming in the sunlight above the gaping hole in the earth. She'd like to say that it was the first time she'd thought to use him…but it was only the first time she'd finally given into the desperation.

He was harsh and cruel, biting where she would have kissed and leaving marks where she usually would have caressed. He pressed her and drove her where she usually held back and let herself drift. He was all strength and built up aggression and guilt. She crashed over the edge with such a sudden intensity that when she opened her eyes again he was gone.

The second time she transformed her shadow clone, she was covered in blood and dirt and her hands shook so strongly still she might still have been holding that poisoned kunai. He loomed over her with all of his dark presence and judgment…but at the sight of the warmth in his eyes–in hers, the lack of hate and insanity–she broke down into wretched sobs. The closer he held her, the softer than he whispered reassurance and comfort into her ear, the harder it was she sobbed. When her throat burned and her tears ran out, she fell asleep in his arms and woke up alone.

She felt too wretched and sick at the thought of it to ever try it again.

She hadn't any idea what he was stampeding through the village for with his thousands of shadow clones, but she knew the one passing by her window was one of them, not the original. She grabbed his arm as he landed on her balcony and yanked him inside.

War loomed closer and with more certainty than there'd ever been in her life before. They, everyone, would fight a war to save Naruto from the last of the Akatsuki, and no matter the cost to the world in the process she knew they'd succeed. What lingered in her mind was the promise he made before that.

Every time she thought of the war and saving him, all she returned to was his promise. To die with Sasuke, to finally be free of their fates and swallow both of their hatred at once. Neither of them stopped to ask her what that would mean for her.

It was a trouble to tie his arms behind the chair while straddling his lap as she was, but she couldn't afford to let him go. He managed a frightened 'Sakura-cha-' before she kissed him to cut him short, ever aware of those on the lower level.

She didn't say a word, and his every attempt to start a conversation or protest (particularly when she tore open his jacket and raked her nails down cloned flesh) was silenced by another abrupt kiss until he eventually learned to stop. He'd said enough words for a lifetime, and every word she'd said to either of them had been ignored. Her feelings never mattered to them, she never had that bond they shared, she would never be a part of the bond of hate and loneliness between the two of them.

She was only Sakura, she was always the third the others forgot. They fought together, they worked together, they would die together, and she would keep on living. For them, she would lose everything she loved, and neither of them ever once stopped to think about it. In their eternal rivalry and endless battle she was the girl left standing alone on a rooftop, forgotten.

She knew her way around shadow clones, how not to break them at an awkward moment, and how naturally they responded to anything but injury. She wasn't surprised then how quickly nervous fidgeting became anxious shifting, and aborted protests became muffled whimpers under the touch of even her hand.

They'd go to war to save Naruto, and how many people would die just to see him live a little longer? How many of her friends and family and loved ones would lay down their lives so that the Hero of Konoha could save all of them the way he always did?

How many people would she lose before she had to watch the two people she loved the most kill each other?

When it all ended, just how alone would she be?

She wanted to give an answer for why, she wanted to say that she could woo him into choosing to live instead of die, but she knew Naruto far too well to believe she could. Hoping to change his mind was pointless, because he'd never listened to her to start with.

It wasn't fair.

For once the expressions on the face beneath her, the half-formed gasps and erratic jerks weren't hers. It wasn't her eyes looking up at her with confusion and awe. Her attention needn't be split between her own movement and the seeking of her own comfort with the need to maintain the other half.

When she closed her eyes she thought she could see him, but that wasn't true. She couldn't separate one from the other in her mind, and it didn't really matter if she did. It was always them and never her, and soon it would be only her.

Even if he'd given up on words, he remained as energetic and noisy as ever, though never so loud she needed to silence him. She, on the other hand, couldn't summon a sound. She didn't have the strength to through her focus on the both of them, on how quickly they slipped through her fingers.

It wasn't like Sasuke, it was as deceptively gentle as it had been sudden and intense before. If not for the way she seized up around him it was possible he might never know she had. When she did of course, he was already at his ragged edge, and exploded with a cry.

The rope dropped to the carpeted floor, loud as a crash in the sudden silence, and she stared blankly down at the back of the empty chair in front of her.

She could never keep either of them.