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Sakura begins recovery by unfurling her hands and giving him a tense report. Kakashi waits patiently for her to stumble through Konoha Standard, motions well-memorised but never practiced, and gently reaches out to lift her chin, making her look at him.
His eye is swirling with emotions, but pity isn't one of them and she is glad for it. He opens his mouth as if to say something and no words move past his lips. Sakura smiles sadly. She has never been able to read him well, but her teacher is only human after all.
He stuffs his fists into his pockets and turns his head away. “I’m sorry,“ he manages to draw out, the words carefully neutral. He jerks his head toward the stack of files on the nightstand. “All you need to know is in there. You're cleared from active duty for the rest of the month. Use that time to think about where you want to transfer to. I,“ he pauses, swallowing. “I can set you up with Intelligence or anything you like, really.“
Sakura doesn't want that if she's honest with herself. After what happened even thinking about what she wants feels selfish. She nods stiffly, reaches for a file and pries it open, more habit than curiosity.
She doesn't dare look at it.
Kakashi settles for a half shrug in response and claims the plastic seat next to her bed, staring out of the window. Outside, the Hokage monument towers over the devastation caused by the invading troops.
Sakura pulls her knees closer to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Her teacher keeps his eyes locked on the monument in the distance. An awkward silence settles over them.
She takes a breath that climbs shakily into her lungs and forces herself to look down. Down at the mission report in her lap. It glares back at her and she grabs it with all her strength, hoping it will tear. It doesn't. Plain black print reads what she's trying very hard not avoid thinking about a neutral, matter-of-fact way.
Here is what happened:
Team Seven failed the Chūnin Exam. (The Chūnin exam failed them.) Uzumaki Naruto – deceased. Uchiha Sasuke – MIA.
Sakura blames herself. For trusting Kabuto, for not being stronger, for being here when really it should have been Naruto who survived.
But they were just a bunch of Genin, little kids playing at being Shinobi –
In the wake of the invasion, death surrounding and threatening to suffocate her home, Sakura feels terribly alone in her grief.
She struggles to her feet and catches sight of her ghostly image in the mirror. Her lips are thin lines set in a pale face. The vibrant colour of her hair is mocking her washed-out appearance.
Sakura averts her eyes, berating herself for being vain.
Kakashi clears his throat and she turns to look at him. He points at her state of undress, the thin white fabric of the hospital gown loosely hugging her as if she’s a child wearing her father's shirt.
She doesn't have anything else to wear. Nothing she'd want to wear. She tilts her head forward, hands forming shaky signs.
Kakashi hides a weary grimace and corrects her third hand motion. She repeats it at him, slower this time, copying the curve of his palms as closely as possible, and he grunts softly in affirmation. He clasps his hands together and creates a shadow clone. Without further instructions it opens the window and climbs on the windowsill, winking at her before twisting around and plunging three stories down.
“He won't be long,“ Kakashi tells her stiffly, pulling out his beloved Icha Icha Paradise.
He quickly buries his nose in the book and Sakura suppresses a reflexive groan. Kakashi may be a pervert, but she doesn’t think she can blame him for his quirks anymore. Unsure at what to do, she shuffels into her slippers and paces the room, careful not to glance at the mirror again. The nurse said she should be up walking for her legs to get used to carrying her body's weight again.
Crossing the room is easy. Once, twice, three times hardly feeling a strain. By the eighth time she sways and reaches for the empty space next to her for support.
But there is no one for her to fall back on, so she grits her teeth and fights against her aching muscles.
“Sakura,“ Kakashi says and her head snaps around in time to see his clone vanish. Kakashi rises to his feet and approaches her, carrying dark fabric in his hand. He helps her back to the bed and perches her on top of her blanket.
He hands her the neatly stacked clothes and tells her that he'll be outside. Sakura nods and waits for the door to shut behind him before she pulls the gown over her head and reaches for the first item Kakashi gave her.
It’s a face mask, not unlike his own, but smaller. She stares at it blankly and puts it aside. Below, there is standard-issued black chunin gear, lacking only the characteristic flak jacket. Sakura presses her lips together and changes into the clothes. Wearing them feels odd since the fabric is unlike what she is used to and the shirt has an unfamiliar cut.
She approaches the door slowly, supporting herself with the wall, and pulls the handle down. Kakashi is crouching in the hallway, unbothered by the civilian nurses who send him disapproving glares, flipping through his book. She claps once and waits for him to look up before she spells out her discomfort.
Your old c-l-o-t-h-e-s. Why?
He calmly rises rises, swiftly tucking Icha Icha in his weapon's pouch. His voice sounds as tired as she feels. “I am your teacher,“ he replies quietly, adjusting the way her mask rests on her face. “And you're my favourite student.“
His hands are shaking.