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For someone who has been rushing back and forth throughout the hospital all day, torn between her duties to her mentor and tending to them, Sakura’s feet are freezing.
Sayako cannot quite contain her hiss every time Sakura’s toes brush against her calf as they shift to get comfortable.
“Sorry!” Sakura tries to put room between them—ridiculous, as this bed is only meant for one patient’s body and there is still barely any space between them and she can’t be comfortable that close to the edge.
Sayako does not have a left arm to prop herself up anymore, but that does not stop her from reaching over and grabbing Sakura’s shirt and tugging—not hard, she doesn’t have that kind of energy yet—firmly enough that the other girl gets the hint that cold feet are not a dealbreaker and scoots back in.
They’ve shared beds before: during genin missions when they stayed at inns or in the same tent when camping in the woods. Sakura’s warmth is familiar and welcome.
Even if her feet are frigid.
Sakura finds the spaces she can fill beside Sayako, mindful still of her arm and other injuries not fully healed. However, they are not intertwined—their relationship, though annoying and elusive to pin down—is definitively not there.
“Sorry again,” Sakura murmurs. Her breath puffs over the side of Sayako’s neck and she represses the shudder as best she can, lest Sakura misinterprets and tries to move away again.
Her voice is low; the better to not awaken Naruto, unconscious in the next bed over.
“I told you to get in here. I’m not going to kick you out.” Sayako also speaks softly. However, she is not entirely sure Naruto is unconscious or exercising an unusual tact. His comments regarding her and Sakura’s dynamic have been consistently positive, if occasionally misworded. Mostly, he seems concerned that Sayako will let things stagnate as they are.
Happily, at least, that particular fear of his is completely unfounded.
But any thoughts of Naruto promptly dissipate as Sakura smiles sleepily up at her and Sayako basks in the warmth of something meant for her and her alone.
“Thank you, Saya-chan.” She says, eyelids fluttering closed. “The cot really would not have been uncomfortable.”
“You should go home have gone home earlier then, where you actually have a bed,” says Sayako, trying not to sound scolding because, well, she is pleased that Sakura stayed.
“Didn’ want to leave you guys alone,” says Sakura around a yawn.
They are not intertwined, but Sakura hums and shifts closer so that they are pressed together, shoulder to hip to thigh. They are warm and Sayako has never been more comfortable, as she waits for Sakura’s breath to even out before finally succumbing to sleep herself.