Fandom (naruto!) kintsugi

[scram]

a private roleplay between scram & Graverobber141
if you are neither of these individuals, please do not post in this thread!



K I N T S U G I

a naruto roleplay. ​

 

[Graverobber141]

The rising, morning sun, obscured by dark, thick clouds that hung above Konoha like an omen, struggled to shed a few orange and red rays through a hospital window; the rain pelleted against the glass panels in a steady rhythm, obscuring the broad black lines of the empowered seals lining its sill. So soon in the still warm ashes of the last great war, the hospital was always bustling: injured packed in on top of each other, medics scurrying from one patient to the next, the constant noise born from the seemingly endless work of tending to the aftermath.

Yet this room, guarded by a squadron of masked ANBU, was silent, save for the rain, and the labored breathing of its single inhabitant.

It was always that night that haunted his unconscious mind, red and black and screaming and bile rising up in his throat and panic, panic that consumed him -- weakweakweakandfuckingpathetic.

And then there was lightning, fluttering underneath his eyelids, roaring in his head, and the swirling, bleeding tomoes shaping into the mark of his lineage's curse; stars against a blood red sky. Fitting, because there was always so much blood; everywhere he stepped, it flooded in like an ocean.

These eyes birthed death.

Pain pulled him unceremoniously from his dreams, and it felt like he was being drug freezing and shivering out of frozen water.

The pain radiated from his left arm: a constant, burning ache starting at his elbow and feeding downward as flames to kiss his fingertips. And when he closed his eyes, blocked out the room, he could hear a sizzling chirp that left a hollow ringing in his ears. It was always there in one form or another, either as the sensation of an itch crawling underneath his skin, or searing, white hot pain, like holding his palm in the heart of a fire, only tenfold, the kind of heat born from a lightning strike.

His brow slicked with sweat and jaw clenched tight enough that his masseter muscle popped stark white against his pale face, he tugged against the chain that kept him restrained to the bed, wanting to grasp ahold of the afflicted limb causing him so much agony and tear it from his torso, but it was useless: the seals on his wrist and ankles prevented him from summoning up the chakra needed to free himself, and his left arm was nothing but a phantom, absent yet ethereal. It was easy to forget that fact with the wounds of the war still fresh, and his mind feverish and irrational, emerging from a nightmare that lingered in his thoughts.

Leaning his head back against his pillow, Sasuke focused on the downpour and tried to steady his breathing. He could swallow the physical pain with the trained resolve of an Uchiha, but it was the silence, which birthed remembrance and regret, that ate away at his sanity; no mattered how many times his own thoughts haunted him, it never become comfortable.

The world had become static long before his hospitalization, the droning, sickening tone only drowned out by his his drive, his purpose -- the one he no longer possessed. Where that fire had been, the burning coals he had grasped even as they scorched his palms to only have something, the ashes were now barren and cold. He felt a deliberate absence of emotion, a numbness that was as hollow as the limb he still felt extending from his left stump.

The footsteps were sharp against the silence, traveling down the hallway to his thinly-veiled prison; though resources were stretched thin, this floor of the hospital was shut down to accommodate him and the abundant security measures he warranted, which meant traffic was restricted. He had become familiar with the walking patterns of his guard -- Boar and Bear at the door, with Cat and Dog outside the window, on the roof -- and these steps weren't as heavy and strident.

*****​

"Hokage-sama!" The ANBU in the bear mask sounded surprised, and after being slapped in the shoulder by his partner, straightened his back and stood at attention. "We weren't informed of your visit today."

The indention of his lips against his mask faintly tilting upward, Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I'm technically not visiting...Just thought this would be the perfect place to catch up on some reading."

"Ah, avoiding Tsunade-sama?" Bear asked in an amused tone, earning him another, harder, closed-fist hit from Boar, who was now shooting him a look that could kill.

"Mm, you could say that." Kakashi drawled, retrieving his worn copy of Icha Icha and dunking his face behind its orange cover to conceal the weariness seeping into his charcoal eyes. While it was true the Godaime was rather harsh with her help during this transitional phase of the village's leadership, his reason for being here was more sentimental and...protective.

Not that he would admit that particular fact. Even after all these years and how much they had changed, it was hard not to view the three once assigned under his wing as those genin he was responsible for.

His gaze trailed to the end of the hallway as he caught sight of the real reason he was here out of his peripheral vision, and he offered her a smile that showed behind his mask, yet didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah, good morning, Sakura."

 

[scram]

The fluorescent white lights of the hospital somehow made the colour of her hair paler, limp and lacking of life. Her skin seemed a shade paler than normal too, though that might have been emphasised by the growing dark bags underneath her cerulean eyes; they were often blank and unblinking at times. Tiredness had been etched in Sakura’s limbs for more than a week. That’s how long she had spent in the hospital, her home now long forgotten as nothing more than an uninhabited apartment. Sakura became a permanent resident in the hospital, she spent any of her free time curled underneath her office floors, carelessly placed paperwork and her hospital lab coat or her blood-covered smock were her new blankets.

This morning was like any other morning she had this week. Caffeine, her new friend, had let her see through more than dozens of patients needing medical ninjutsu treatment and if that wasn’t available in her arsenal, she wouldn’t hesitate to bring out her own scalpels, rely on her steady hands and memory. When the sun started to peek out over the horizons only to be covered by the dark clouds, her hands weren’t as steady anymore, her fingers had jitters and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Combined with the fact she was low on chakra, Sakura had become more of a liability than a helping hand within the hospital.

With the urging of her colleagues, Sakura was forced to retreat back to her office to recuperate. Logically, Sakura knew getting some good rest would be not only be a healthy option but also productive. But, as she laid her head against the hard wooden table, she had felt restless and fidgety and, quite possibly, the caffeine was getting to her. She wanted to help, she needed to be useful somehow instead of just laying down and doing nothing (besides, she could still feel it; her fingers wrapped around a ghost of her scalpel or see the familiar green on the palm of her hand only to blink and see it gone as if it was never there in the first place).

So, here is Sakura now: tired, moving through the motions from the caffeinated jitters and hands clutched on paperwork about her recently assigned patient along with bottles of painkillers as prescribed. Her footsteps had carelessly echoed throughout the hallways- Sakura knew the hospital like the back of her hand, she relied more so on muscle memory than actually working out where she was going.

“Ah,” she replied to Kakashi's greeting, her voice sounding monotonous and robotic. Her legs had slowed themselves to a stop, almost as if tiredness had been ingrained into the marrow of her bones. “Kakashi-sensei.”

Sakura had barely glanced at her former sensei, her attention had been placed solely on the newest patient she had been assigned to. Supposedly, she was here to administer some painkillers for… wait a moment.

It took awhile for her brain to catch up. The information of Kakashi-sensei of all people to just show up here? Out of nowhere? For no reason?

“K-kakashi-sensei!” She violently whipped her head up to face him, her eyes widening in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Hokage Tower doing work?” Sakura asked again without pause, though this time her tone of voice was more accusatory instead of surprised. It was an odd look on Sakura, to have the familiar exasperated expression she’d used on whatever antics Team 7 used to get into. Only this time, her exasperation was emphasised by the dark circles of her eyes and the unkempt style of her hair, sticking out in places that normally wouldn’t. “You know, Shishou is going to have a field day when she finds you slacking off. Especially in here. This is, after all, her territory.”

 

[Graverobber141]

She's not well.

Without Obito's borrowed sharingan, Kakashi had lost part of his sharpened perception -- the world was no longer a finely-tuned image painted within his mind's eye -- but somethings didn't need a penetrating gaze to see, and it was easier to pick up on things he knew well, from people he knew well. Her skin had lost its color, her hair and clothes were disheveled, and the thick bags under her eyes were evidence enough of her overworked, exhausted state. He wondered when the last time Sakura had slept was, and if such a low quality rest could even be considered as such.

"Clever, isn't it?" He drooled out in response to her questioning, offering her a smile; though the expression mostly showed in the crinkle of his eyes, it didn't quite seep into his irises, taking form as little more than a shadow. "I needed a break from the ever-growing pile on my desk, and figured this would be the last place Tsunade would look to find me."

He couldn't admit that he was checking up on her and him.

Even with her before him, seeming more like a fading ghost than his former student -- and how it stung when she wore that reminiscent, annoyed expression she had once reserved for days when Team 7 had gotten themselves involved in something especially stupid, those bittersweet memories born of a simpler time -- he couldn't bring himself to suggest she take a long sabbatical from the hospital, because it would taste too much like hypocrisy. He was familiar with the bone-deep exhaustion of the shinobi, with pushing himself past his limits to escape a past, and alongside those reasons, he understood the hospital's current need to keep every able medic, especially one as talented as her, on staff.

"Sakura..." His voice trailed off as he searched for the words. For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened, showing his own weariness, and then it was gone. "If you ever need anything, know you can come to me."

It was all he could offer.

A throat clear cut through the air, briefly drawing Kakashi's attention, though it was obvious the masked ANBU was not seeking his, but his former student's. "Haruno-san," Boar was the one speaking this time, more reserved than her counterpart standing at the opposite side of the door. "If you're here to see the Uchiha, I'll need to search you for weapons before I'm allowed to grant you entry."

Right. They were taking every precaution available when it came to Sasuke, even restricting foot-traffic in this area of the hospital. Tsunade was, as expected, not very happy about the decision, and as always quite vocal about her displeasure, but Kakashi was also trying to satisfy the village's elders. And he wasn't built for politics.

Waving his hand, the Hokage brushed off Boar's request with a light, but firm assertion, "That's not needed." Sliding one hand in his pocket, the other lowered his book, a finger slipping between pages to keep his place, yet he lingered against the wall, as if silently asking if Sakura wanted him to stay.

 

[scram]

At Kakashi’s statement, there was some sort of hesitance that flickered through her face. A slow furrow of her brows and the slight downturn on the edge of her pale lips. But just like the thought of rest that came from many tireless nights, it disappeared just as quickly. Maybe it was out of habit- one that was born out of desperation and in a war-torn place- or, perhaps, her mind was too starved for sleep to perfectly comprehend the nature behind her former sensei’s comment.

Nonetheless, Sakura still had a mind for a reaction.

She waved off his comment carelessly. Mildly offended by his offer, she slightly puffed her cheeks in response. “Right. Kakashi-sensei, I’m letting you know now that if Shishou comes by asking for you…” Sakura let a small pause settle in between them, before placing her hands on her hips in mock anger but the small twitch of a smile on her lips had said otherwise. “... I can’t help you- everyone knows no one’s a match for her wrath, not even me.”

“And it’s alright, Kakashi-sensei.” Sakura amended, her voice becoming monotone, eyes a bit glazed as she settled back to a more work-oriented mindset. She stepped forward to face the ANBU with the Boar mask and outstretched both of her arms outwards, creating a T pose. “Procedure is procedure. It wouldn’t do me or anyone else in the hospital if I managed to get some sort of special treatment from you, sensei. Especially with…”

With that, Sakura let her sentence trail off as she racked her brain. Having ANBU guards surrounding their hospital room was someone incredibly important. Or dangerous. And right now, within her memory, the only person she could come up with was…

Ah. Sakura had thought, her eyes widening slightly in shock at her revelation. Ah, fuck. How could I forget?

Hesitantly, Boar did as his job demanded him to, feeling the burning gaze of Sakura’s dull cerulean eyes. It was almost as though she wasn’t truly looking at him, even if her gaze was directed at him. Instead, he had a feeling it laid elsewhere. Like the room beyond him, for example.

“Especially with… the Uchiha.” She finished, a small bitter tone held her voice. She had only recently been assigned as his doctor. Mainly due to others’ distaste for him, especially when he was officially marked as a traitor, one that was responsible for so much pain. Sakura had hoped, that perhaps, her intimate connection with him would spare her the chance of tending to him. Instead, that’s what landed her here in front of his door- she was the only one who didn’t entirely mind being near him.

Once Boar had finished checking her for weapons, he nodded his head in affirmation and stepped away to allow her to reach the door.

“Want to come with?” She asked Kakashi, as she glanced back at him with her head tilting slightly towards the entrance. “I know you don’t have a lot of free time to see any of us. Hell, I don’t think I’ve had a chance to see Naruto since he’s been discharged.”

Cheekily, she added with a wink. “I won’t tell Shishou about this visit. Just this once.”

 

[Graverobber141]

"An understatement," Kakashi mused, remembering the first week of the transition, during which he could have sworn he was wearing on Tsunade's de-aging jutsu enough for her rage to bring out wrinkles in her forehead.

He couldn't help but chuckle, and his eyes crinkled fondly at the mention of the blond, knuckle-headed ninja. He hadn't had time to see Naruto either, but that hadn't prevented the self-proclaimed seventh Hokage from forcing his way into his future office to make his views on the security measures taken to restrain Sasuke known.

"You will. He'll personally see to that, trust me," Kakashi reassured Sakura, placing his hand on her should for the briefest of moments, before, with a nod and wink in thanks, following her into the room.

The Uchiha, as a number of the ANBU, medical staff, village elders, and now Sakura had taken to calling him -- Sasuke -- was watching for their entrance, obsidian glimmering underneath raven locks, his expression hard and unmoving, as if his face had been carved from marble, though his forehead and neck glistened with sweat, betraying what he was trying to conceal.

Weakness, Kakashi guessed, as he leaned lazily against a wall, and forced a smile in his eyes for the benefit of his former students, though the palpable tension in the small room suggested this was hardly a happy reunion.

*****​

They entered and it felt like an invasion. The room became too small, the air stiff and thick, and in response, Sasuke's muscles tensed like serpents reading to strike. It was both an innate and instilled reaction, a survival instinct, and with pain flooding his body and mind, it was hard not to be commanded by it. The muscle memory response of activating his sharingan flared throughout his chakra network, but only a burning sensation followed, and his eyes remained black; the flicker of red that appeared within them, like a drop of paint swirling in a pool, faded before it could be birthed, and left a reprimanding headache thrumming between his ears.

He wished they would kill him already, because this prison felt like a mockery; the denial of a natural conclusion.

His head turning toward the window, taking in the overcast, grey storm clouds -- maybe it was psychedelic, because the window was closed, but he thought he could smell rain -- it would be easy to assume that, like the rest of those who had stepped into his presence in the aftermath of the war, they would only be gifted with deafening silence.

"Sakura," the voice sounded odd, low, and abnormally quiet, as if he wasn't used to speaking, and therefore judging the volume of the words that rumbled in his throat like thunder. A stretch of silence followed, an eternity folded into a second, and then he was also greeting the Hokage.

His gaze did not shift from the clouds. A flash of lightning cast the dark grey in a vibrant, blinding blue, before fading into oblivion. Rain followed, pattering heavily against the roof and glass, and then a shaking boom a distance away.

"Sasuke," Kakashi began, his name dying on his tongue as what was going to be said was exchanged for something else, "Sakura has been assigned to treat your remaining wounds."

And you're here to babysit, Sasuke thought, assigning the tension to one born of mistrust. He didn't blame anyone, no, because it was an intelligent thing to hold against an enemy.

They shouldn't have sent her. His eyes finally shifting to take in his former teammate, watching her with a heavy, piercing stare, he wondered if this had been a calculated decision: if, because of their shared past, they were hoping to draw forth some emotion from him, soften him up for a interrogation that would await him in the days to come; or, more simply, if it was because she was the only one strong enough to handle him, incase if he became violent.

Those thoughts were interrupted by another sharp, digging pain in his right arm, and once more his jaw was clenching hard enough to make him taste copper, his teeth grinding into one another harshly, and his fingers curled into a tight fist against the bed, skin splayed across knuckle bone.

"I'm alive," Sasuke growled through gritted teeth once the spell had reduced to a throbbing discomfort, the words spat like venom."You should be directing her talents elsewhere."

"It wasn't my decision," Kakashi drawled after a moment, carefully choosing his words. "But you should make the most of it."