Chapter Text
Sakura gazed at the sky above and placed a hand over her bleeding chest, a wound so open she felt the coldness of the wind caressing her insides. She was covered in dust and debris, lying down on the battlefield, surrounded by corpses and the sudden realization that maybe she was breathing her last thoughts. There wasn’t an ounce of chakra left in her, and honestly, she lacked the strength to move an inch, much less to gather chakra anywhere. The seal on her forehead had gone dry from the sheer intensity of the battle and her insane attempts at healing everyone.
She had been given an entire squadron to command against a fraction of Madara’s forces. Many lives depended on her, and she’d intended on keeping them safe. Her strategy had been efficient at first: going against her instincts and staying behind with Katsuyu, not engaging in battle and instead healing every single soldier who came back with a limb hanging from their body.
It had worked for a while, but just as she thought they were about to clear the rear for the Allies, Black Zetsu came out of nowhere and summoned his monsters: human corpses, like an army from the dead, without no sense of pain or self-preservation. It would’ve been fine if the numbers didn’t compensate for their lack of wits, but they were simply too many. And so, as the allied forces fought a losing battle, Sakura saw bodies drop-dead under her feet, losing their breath even before touching the ground.
“Retreat!” She commanded, and they followed her orders unquestionably, a strategic withdrawal already on their minds as they exited the valley.
“Sakura-san!” Hotaro, a twelve-year-old fresh from the academy, stayed behind, seeing as his commander had no intention of retreating with the rest of them.
“Go! I’ll hold them off! You need to inform the alliance of the incoming threat at the rear!” She half shouted, as the enemy’s army closed in on them.
“But… Sakura-san… No! I can’t leave you here!”
That was what he said, but in her mind, she knew he meant he couldn’t bear to lose any more people. He’d already lost his parents and older sister.
She placed a hand on his unruly brown locks, looking at him from above her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.” Her eyes softened. He had reminded her of Naruto, with the same sunny demeanor and determined attitude, his same loyalty. He had followed her around like a stray puppy around the camp, and despite her attempts at distancing herself from him, she couldn’t help but feel protective of the child. He was a soldier and had to be treated as such, but the innocence in his eyes hadn’t vanished yet, and on her very core she’d felt the need to protect it since the beginning. To her, he was a boy, like her wounded teammates, who were still children at heart.
Naruto, the ostracized needy blonde that loved her like a brother would his sister. Her hero and light in the darkness.
Sai, the socially clueless dork that could not be comprehended by anyone but Naruto, Kakashi and her because they had come to appreciate him and his uncanny cuteness.
Kakashi, the troubled young man who read porn in public and was aloofly annoying. The man who —for being such a skilled shinobi and an avid porn reader— had no idea of how to handle his emotions and those of others. The man who cherished them deeply.
And Sasuke, the stray sheep, the traumatized child who had grown up on his own hatred. The boy she had kept close to her heart despite his betrayal.
All of them were needy in their own right. Just like Hotaro. So Sakura gave him the same consideration she had given her boys. She gave him what she thought he needed: warmth, emotional safety.
“Those guys won’t do a scratch on me.” The lines of her Strength of A Hundred seal soared her body, and the rush of energy made her believe momentary in her words, despite knowing they were a flat out lie. She smiled at the boy, reassuring him. “Go. We’ll get flowers for your family when we get back and all this is over…”
She had been a fool for promising something like that. Would Hotaro trust anyone ever again, or will he turn out like Sasuke, distancing himself from everyone who dared to care about him? Maybe like Kakashi, whose sadness followed him around like a shadow? She would have liked to stay around, if only to preserve that unusual optimism that was so Naruto-like.
Would Naruto forgive her when he found out about her death? She had made him promise to retrieve Sasuke, but now she wouldn’t be there to receive him with open arms, to let him know he was still cherished, despite everything… She wouldn’t be there to be a part of Team Seven.
Would Tsunade cry? She dreaded the thought. Her shishou had lost so much… She was her mentor, her mother figure, her source of confidence. Her second mother…
And Ino… Ino would probably be jealous of her for dying so young and leaving such a pretty corpse.
Regardless, Sakura prayed silently for her blond friend to die ancient and wrinkled.
It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t planned on this. She hadn’t said her goodbyes properly. She didn’t want to lie there, bleeding out over the anxiety of not knowing if her precious people would stop the war in time, if her sacrifice had counted for something…
But she guessed she’d have to go without knowing.
“I’m sorry, everyone… I swear I tried my best this time…”