Hello, everyone. I actually have this story posted on another site because of its not-for-children content but after reading several stories on this site , I've come to the decision that A Full Circle isn't that over the top. Even so, please heed the fact that this is labeled 'M' for a reason.
Title: A Full Circle
Summary: Years after his desertion, Haruno Sakura realizes that she and Uchiha Sasuke never did have an ending. But on a stormy, rainy night, as she hangs on the verge of death, she realizes that they never had a beginning either.
Warning: Extreme Sexual Content, Language
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever own, Naruto and its amazingly complex characters
Read, enjoy and review!
Chapter 1: Then Came You
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The word echoed through her head repeatedly as Haruno Sakura huddled underneath the tree, wrapping her arms tightly around herself to stave off the cold from the rain. It was a futile effort. The water drenched through her clothes, seeping into her skin. Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably and she wondered how long it would be before she gave into the cold.
She gingerly touched the recently healed wound at her side, which throbbed painfully. Kami, she had been so stupid! Poison was her specialty—how had she not been aware of the dangerous substance running through her veins? She had healed the damage inflicted by an enemy nin, but she had been so arrogantly foolish enough to not give herself a thorough check-up, believing it had been nothing more than a flesh wound. Hadn't she scolded so many of her staff members and patients for doing the same? How many deaths had been caused by such a mistake?
She feebly tried to conjure chakra, but it was useless. Whatever the poison coating kunai had been, it reacted slowly, no doubt designed to catch one's opponent off-guard. It killed a person's chakra one cell at a time, so silently that it didn't bring any attention to itself—until it was too late. If she hadn't been the victim, Sakura would have applauded the enemy nin for their ingenuity.
So this is how I end, she thought miserably, allowing the tears to leek from the corners of her eyes, mixing with the rainwater slicking her cheeks. Huh. She had always thought she'd go out with a bang, not quietly and alone in the middle of a bloody damp forest.
She had known, from the very first day she'd been declared a kunoichi, that she would always be toying with death. Despite this, she wasn't ready to die. There were so many things she had yet to do, so many dreams unfulfilled. She wanted just one more day to laugh with her friends, to embrace her parents, to live.
She dimly wondered if anyone would find her. Would there even be anything left to find? She was stranded in the middle of off-beaten track, unable to move. Would her body have rot by the time the search party found her? Or would the wild animals have already tore into her body by then?
Faces of those she loved swirled in front of her, and if she had more energy, she would have screamed from the unfairness of it all. She had never been a religious person, but right now she found herself praying to every god she ever heard of. She asked for one more chance and if she didn't get that, she begged forgiveness for every sin she had done, for every person she had killed, for every child she had taken from a mother. She prayed for her friends' happiness, for the strength they would need to move on.
For the strength she would need to face this.
Briefly, the image of a beautiful young boy, lost to her so many years ago, crossed her mind. She wasn't surprised. Physically, he had left her a long time ago, but he'd always occupied a corner of her soul. The corner that was filled with a young girl's innocent hopes and dreams of love and family. She had not owned him, but he certainly owned a part of her. He was her biggest regret—and her greatest fantasy.
She could feel the chakra depleting from her body. She was already beyond the point of pain and numbness had taken over. She could feel the poison swimming within her system, destroying everything in its path.
If only . . .
Darkness was overwhelming her. There was a roaring in her ears and she wasn't sure if it were from the storm. Her lids grew heavier and heavier, defeating her weak attempts to stay awake.
The arms that had been wrapping her torso tightly finally loosened.
The tall, dark figure was a blur as he slipped between the trees, unimpeded by the heavy rain pouring down on him. A small frown crossed his handsome features as his red eyes scanned the forestation one more time, searching for the owner of the weakening chakra.
He should have been unaffected. His house positioned where it was, he felt numerous of presence running through the area daily, but none had been so close—or stayed too long. Aside from his house, the area was not ideal for encampment and he had set enough traps in the vicinity of his residence to warn both him and any unsuspecting visitors to stay away.
But the presence of the chakra he'd felt earlier tonight had bothered him. It undoubtedly belonged to a shinobi. While it was weak—and getting weaker by the second—his life had taught him enough to never underestimate an opponent. He had long ago decided on a quiet life, alone and undisturbed. But ghosts from the past had a way of upsetting the balance he'd made for himself. Instincts were something that could never be thrown away—and his instincts had always taught him to strike before he was struck.
The unknown chakra dropped again considerably. Whoever the person was, they were too close for comfort. And there was something about this particular chakra that felt familiar enough to jar the warning bells inside his head.
He knew he was drawing nearer by the way his senses tingled. His feet barely touched the ground as he increased his speed, blinking the water away from his eyes. There!
He finally saw the figure sitting beneath the large tree, pressed so deeply against the trunk it was barely discernible. From the small stature, he guessed it was a female. And she was unconscious.
Her comatose state didn't make him drop his guard. Kunai drawn in one hand, he approached her cautiously, careful to mask his own chakra. His gaze studied her carefully. The rain soaked her huddled form, but his eyes allowed him to see her clearly.
Wary red-tinted orbs widened slightly as they fell on her hair. Despite the fact that the water darkened them, there was no mistaking the shade of the long locks.
It had been nearly eight years since he last saw that color of hair, but he didn't doubt his eyes. There was only one person in the world he knew who had pink hair.
Unexpectedly, his heart started to pound. For the first time in a long while, Uchiha Sasuke stood in front of Haruno Sakura without any intent to hurt or kill.
And uncharacteristically, he didn't know what the hell to do.
For a fleeting second, Sasuke considered leaving her there. A quick observation with his Sharingan told him that her chakra reserves were all but empty, and the dark spots swirling inside her were eating away her system. With his limited medical knowledge, there wouldn't be much he could do for her.
She was dying.
The realization bothered Sasuke more than he cared to admit. Bonds had long been broken, shattered by his own hands, but he had never forgotten her—or any of the other members of his former genin team. There hadn't been a day gone by when either of them hadn't crossed his mind, no matter how briefly or insignificantly. And no matter how much he desperately wanted to remain unattached, he knew he couldn't leave Sakura here.
With a sigh, he bent to pick her up. Her skin was cold to the touch, her lifeless weight heavy in his arms. There was only a faint hint of a pulse and it was thready at best. He didn't lie to himself; there wouldn't be much he could do for her, but would be damned if he allowed her body to be ravaged by wild animals. What little he knew of her, he knew she didn't deserve such a fate.
Jaw clenched determinedly, he started towards his house, her smaller body tucked tightly in his arms.
In the light of his bedroom, Sasuke could see the changes in Sakura. No longer was she the thin, gangly little girl who had followed him around constantly and without shame. Even through his detached gaze, he could see she had grown uncommonly pretty. Not beautiful in an obvious way, but undoubtedly striking, with her creamy skin and pale pink hair. He wondered if her eyes were still the bright jade orbs he remembered or if they had dimmed and become world-weary. In their profession, nothing stayed innocent for long.
He undressed her methodically, ignoring his baser urges to study the changes time had brought to her now more feminine figure. Once she was fully naked, he started to dry her off before wrapping her body with thick blankets. Her lips were almost blue against her clammy skin and she was going into hypothermia. He knew enough about that he shouldn't plunge her into hot water straight away and risk shock.
He worked slowly, but effectively, lighting candles and stoking the fire in the hearth to warm the room and quicken the process. It became so hot, sweat dripped down his face, but he disregarded his comfort in lieu of hers. He cupped her small feet in his hands, rubbed the soles to get the blood pumping.
The cold wasn't the issue. Even as her body grew warmer, she remained pale and unconscious. He continued to activate his Sharingan, studying the progress in her system. He had seen enough in his life to know that the black spots flowing through her veins were poison and they were consistently moving upwards, drawing near to her heart. There was a fresh wound at her side, where the spots were most obvious.
Her breathing suddenly became rattled and his eyes flew to her face. Pain was twisting her features. Good, he thought with satisfaction. If she could feel pain, it meant that she still had a fighting chance.
Making a decision, he picked up his kunai. With a flick of his wrist, he reopened the cut at her side. Blood trickled out and with his fingers he pressed the sides so that more blood poured out. She started to struggle, instinctively trying to push away the pain. He subdued her easily, his grip holding fast. He squeezed until blood turned to puss. The yellow substance was thick and putrid, but he blinked his disgust away, increasing the pressure until it began to thin.
He once again glanced at her face. Her lips were less blue and there were twin spots of red on her cheekbones. He shot a bit of chakra into her body and her shoulders jerked.
The fluid coming out of her wound was now watery and he knew that the poison was coming out. But they weren't done yet. He didn't know if she would survive this, but if she didn't . . .
If she didn't, then he could take comfort in the fact that at least this time, he hadn't left her alone.
By the next day, Sakura was feverish. Sasuke ran damp cloths over her and kept the windows open, allowing the fresh air to breeze in. There was an angry flesh around her wound and he applied ointment he used for his own wounds while continuing to infuse small shots of his own chakra. In her feverish stupor, she thrashed about wildly and Sasuke quickly learned that she had a mean right hook and could swear like a sailor.
Nighttime was the worst. Her struggles became so bad, he had to physically restrain her. Words of rage filled the room as she shouted about everything that made her angry, from her profession to her personal life. She ranted about the missions she had done, of the people she had been forced to kill, of the hypocrisy of having to heal her patients when she had just bloodied her hands that same morning. There were moments that amused him, when she muttered about ramen and stupid boys that talked too loudly.
"I don't want to talk about him," she spat, her head shaking back and forth. He paused as he washed his hands, turning to look at her curiously.
"He's stupid," she declared furiously. "He's untalkative and anti-social. His hair's funny. And he left us."
Sasuke's fists clenched. He wasn't stupid. It didn't take a genius to figure out who she was talking about. He remained silent as she continued to disparage his character, insulting him about everything from his lack of emotion to his ignorant fashion sense.
" . . . And he looks like a girl. Who wants to date someone who's prettier than her?"
"I'm not pretty," he muttered, highly insulted.
"He didn't trust us. He didn't trust me. I hate that he left us. He should have believed in us more."
Between bouts of rage, Sakura cried a lot. He wondered how long it had been since she'd cried, because her tears were seemingly endless. Annoyingly, everything seemed to be able to prompt her tears, even a pair of earrings that Ino borrowed and never gave back.
While he took care of her, he attended to his own chores. He went fishing at the stream behind his house and washed his clothes, as well as the soiled sheets from the bed Sakura used. He couldn't stay away for long, however, because it seemed that she was as clumsy as a newborn. She'd knock over everything, including the washbowl on the bed stand and the bed stand itself. In his pique, Sasuke considered smothering her with her pillow to put both of them out of their misery.
By the middle of the week, Sasuke knew she would make it. Her skin was cooler and the angry swell around her wound had gone down. He wrapped a poultice around the ragged flesh and hoped for the best.
On the morning of the fifth day, Sasuke came out of the bathroom, freshly bathed and as usual, went to check on her. He activated his Sharingan and saw that there was only a hint of poison left. He was re-cleaning her wound when her hand moved and warily, he drew back, unwilling to be punched again. As his gaze drifted upwards, he grew still.
Her eyes were opened and the pale green orbs widened in surprise as they met his.
To be continued.