Playing the Game

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Sakura said as she slipped back into her patient’s room. “Something came up, as I’m sure you guessed.”

The woman, whose deep blue hair looked almost black from a distance, turned in her hospital bed to face Sakura, wincing when she knocked her still-healing leg. “Was she another patient? That girl?”

“A friend.”

The patient – Arai Shiori, Sakura reminded herself – smiled. “Boyfriend problems, then?”

“No. She needed a rape workup. Bad mission,” said Sakura brusquely. She knew Ino wouldn’t appreciate her business being told, but Sakura was so sick of people trivialising her friend that she could absolutely scream. How typical, to assume that Ino was upset because some stupid guy dumped her.

Shiori’s face fell. “Sorry. I know how that can be.”

Forcing herself to smile brightly to relieve some of the awkwardness, Sakura continued, “Anyway, where were we?” She grabbed the woman’s chart and flipped through it. “Your leg is still sore, I see. I can assure you that a little tenderness is normal. It was healed by Oyone-san, so you have nothing to worry about there. He’s very good, but you’ll still need to be careful while the bone and ligaments finish knitting. You ran on it, I understand?” Sakura couldn’t stop a small amount of disapproval from leaking into her voice though she knew it was probably unwarranted. According to the chart, it had taken Oyone hours to reconstruct her leg – hours that could have been spent more usefully elsewhere.

“No choice.” The woman’s black eyes hardened but her expression remained purposefully neutral.

“Well, because of that, you’ll have to allow a certain amount of time for recuperation. Migaki-san will be around later to discuss physical therapy with you.”

“I know the drill. This is the third time I’ve broken a leg, believe it or not,” Shiori quipped wryly, voice slightly strained.

“Yes, well, ANBU has a tendency to keep its agents in beds like these too often,” Sakura said with feigned concern. “Do you have any questions about the genjutsu you were under? If so, you should ask right now while I’m available. My sixteen hour shift was over two hours ago and I stayed specifically to treat you.”

Looking a little guilty, Shiori said, “I apologise for holding you up. I can talk about the genjutsu later, with someone else. You should go home and get some rest.”

Suddenly, Sakura felt bad for losing her patience with this woman just because she had unintentionally slighted Ino. Shiori’s extraordinarily bad day had culminated in an almost completely incapacitated platoon; Sakura’s mere exhaustion really couldn’t compare. A medic should definitely be a little more understanding. “Actually, I have expertise in this area, which is why I was assigned to you. In any case, I just spent nearly three hours filtering chakra through your brain, so I’m definitely the best person to discuss any concerns with. I don’t mind. Really,” she insisted, realising that she was letting fatigue make her tetchy. She normally enjoyed cases like these. Curing the effects of genjutsu was one of Sakura’s specialties that few others shared. She’d concentrated on it specifically with Tsunade-shishou; it was only prudent, after all, when her teammates were likely to end up on the unfortunate end of the Sharingan in one way or another.

Shiori blushed slightly. “Sorry, again. I guess you’re so young I forget that you’re the Godaime’s apprentice. You are Haruno Sakura-san, right?”

“Yes,” Sakura confirmed cautiously. “Why do you ask?”

“I believe we have a couple of mutual acquaintances,” Shiori replied with a sheepish grin. “Taichou wouldn’t tell us who you were, but Mogusa-san said later he recognised you from the hospital.”

Sakura stared blankly. “You know Mogusa-san? Well, I guess it’s obvious you’re on the same ANBU squad as him, now that I think about it.”

“I think you’re more familiar with my captain, though.”

“Oh! Kakashi-sensei, right?” Finally comprehending, Sakura offered the ANBU a sincere smile. “Sure. Nice to meet you.”

“My teammates and I were wondering, actually.... How do you know Kakashi-taichou?”

“Well, he’s my teammate as well, obviously.”

“Yes, but you seemed more like ... friends, maybe? You know his student Uzumaki Naruto-san, right? Is that why you call him sensei?”

“Kakashi was my genin sensei, so I guess you could say I’ve known for awhile. That’s all.” Sakura tried to keep the flash of annoyance she felt from marring her expression. Nobody ever realised she had been on the original Team Seven. She couldn’t help but believe it confirmed her insecurity that she would always be “the other one”, forever riding on the coattails of more talented companions, not worthy to be noticed in her own right. Even now, when people recognised her it was due solely to her connection to Tsunade or occasionally to Naruto or even Kakashi, like right now – never because she herself was memorable.

“Oh, well that makes sense!” Shiori laughed. “Of course. I just assumed Tsunade-sama was your only master but I should have figured it out. Sorry. It’s just that we’re so curious about him. Kakashi-taichou, I mean. We’ve been working together almost six months now and I don’t understand him at all....” Her voice was laced with exasperation.

Sakura chuckled, all irritation slipping away. New commiserates were always welcome. “Isn’t he the most annoying man you’ve ever met?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go as far as all that,” Shiori said, smiling. “But he’s so stoic and ... I don’t know, mysterious.” She sighed.

Sakura held back another giggle. It was hard to imagine, but she thought Shiori might have a crush on Kakashi-sensei! How cute. She couldn’t wait to tell Naruto and Ino – but she couldn’t, she realised sadly, because doing so would technically be illegal.

“He’s hard-nosed. Demanding. I mean, he’s so famous. His reputation was ....” Shiori trailed off, averting her eyes. “And he lived up to it. We thought he was such a cold fish until we saw him with your team. With you.”

Ah. Sakura thought she might understand now. “My team and I.... It’s complicated. Some things happened that pushed us together – you probably heard about them, but if not, I won’t elaborate – and if you’re lucky, you’ll find an easier way for yourselves. Mostly, though, I think it’s because he still treats us like children. He says we’re a team of equals, but that’s total bullshit.” Ignoring the way Shiori’s eyebrows rose in surprise – at the language, maybe – Sakura continued. “On paper it’s a team of equals, but in reality, we still take our cues from him.” She shrugged. “That’s just the way it is. He can still mostly kick our asses anyway, so it’s only fair.” Looking at Shiori, who seemed fascinated, Sakura added, “He treats you like adults, probably. I’d take it as a sign of respect. Besides, it’s likely he’s less of a pain that way.”

Shiori smiled. “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

Now that she was thinking about it.... “Wait a minute. Did you guys see his face the other day on the bridge?”

Confused, Shiori answered, “Of course. Why?”

She said it like it wasn’t even special! “That ass,” Sakura groused. “All these years I thought he wouldn’t show anyone. I even tried to be polite. But he’s just been toying with us!”

“You’ve never seen his face?” Disbelief was apparent in the older woman’s slacked jaw.

“Not once! When we were younger, we even stalked him to try and –“ Sakura paused mid-tirade with a blush. “Looking back, that’s sort of creepy, actually....”

“Probably just as creepy as trying to quiz someone you don’t even know about him,” Shiori sniggered in playful self-deprecation.

“Well, see? You know things about him that I don’t. I’m a little jealous, to be honest. I may have known the jerk for years, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand him either,” Sakura confessed.

“If you find out anything good, make sure to let me know.”

“The same to you.”

The women grinned conspiratorially, united in the moment. Breaking the mood with a yawn that reminded her how long it had been since she’d last slept, Sakura decided to get back down to business. “About the genjutsu, then. We went over the symptoms earlier, but –“

“Last time I got caught in a genjutsu like that I was quacking – literally quacking, like a duck – for a week afterwards. As far as I can remember, this one had me acting like a five-year old on steroids. It can’t go on; it’s not as obvious as the quacking and people will think I’m just....” Shiori rubbed her temples with long, thin fingers, suddenly looking as weary as Sakura felt.

Sakura frowned. “When was this? I’ll have a look at your records and see who treated you then. That’s not acceptable.”

“Don’t bother. It was years ago. I’m not even sure when. I was a chuunin, I think – or maybe a genin? The medic probably isn’t even on staff anymore.”

“Still. If you remember, let me know. Leave a note at the hospital, if you have to. I practically live here so I’ll definitely get it. I’ll make sure whoever it was won’t make that mistake again. As far as this genjutsu goes.... It was complex, to be certain, but I spent a long time correcting your chakra flows and there’s no reason any problems should persist. If you’re concerned, tell the people you’re closest to what signs they should be looking out for if the effects linger. I’ll schedule a follow-up next week, though. Some people are especially susceptive to these sorts of things so it’s better to be on the safe side.”

“You’re pretty thorough, Sakura-sensei.”

“I do my best. Was there anything else?”

“No, I guess not. It’s just....” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure I made a fool of myself, that’s all. It was my fault we were caught, and then to be a child in such a high stakes situation.... Ryoji-san and Mogusa-san were badly wounded and even Taichou got a little banged up.”

“If Kaka-sensei was injured, why hasn’t he checked in? Well, never mind, I guess. If he wasn’t dying then he wouldn’t willingly enter a –“

“He was here, earlier. Didn’t you see him?” Shiori’s expression darkened slightly. “Not to visit us, of course. Not to get treated, either. He brought your friend to you, I think.”

“Oh? That’s odd. I’m not even entirely sure he knows her name. But, really, don’t worry about that. Sometimes he visits when you’re sleeping but doesn’t tell you and sometimes he doesn’t come at all. That’s just how he operates.”

“But he saved my life,” she whispered. “It was entirely within his rights to let them kill me. I was the only one discovered; the mission could have gone on mostly as planned, but he – and now we’ll fail it, I guess, and it will go on his record as team leader. Because of me. No wonder he doesn’t care –“

“He’s not as cold blooded as you might think,” Sakura interrupted. “He just isn’t very good at showing it. When you really need him, he’ll be there.”

Shiori offered a weak smile. “I guess he sort of proved that, this time around.”

“I’m sure you want to know more about your teammates’ conditions, right?” Shiori nodded. “I am the primary medic overseeing Miyahara Ryoji-san’s recovery – or, as I should officially call him, Agent Tiger. Technically, I’m not allowed to give you specifics, but I performed his surgery myself and at this point, I think I can safely say that he will survive with no lasting damage barring further complications. He will, however, have to have another simple procedure in the morning. Nakajima Mogusa-san, I believe, is undergoing a series of operations performed and supervised by Shizune-san herself, but she has had to stop frequently to allow him to gain enough strength to continue. Regarding your condition after you were hit with the genjutsu, I’ll write a full report detailing the effects and why you should not be held accountable for any possibly embarrassing actions while under the influence. I’m sure your team understands, but I’ll see to it that that they’re all made aware just in case. Especially Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura added with a wink.

“That’s very generous of you. Really, it is,” insisted Shiori, looking a bit startled by the offer.

Sakura was disappointed, just as she always was when something she thought of as a logical duty was perceived as a grand gesture. There was a shameful trend in shinobi facilities to treat patients as if they should have known better, the unspoken sentiment that only the weak were injured subtly permeating patient care. Too often, ninja were left alone to deal with the majority of the consequences of missions-gone-awry. Sakura taught medics to be considerate of their patients, when she had the chance; courtesy really shouldn’t be a luxury in any hospital. “Not at all. It’s just my jo –“ The final consonant was lost in a humongous yawn. “My job.”

Shiori snatched her own chart out of the medic’s hands and put it on a side table. “Go! Sleep. Thanks for your excellent care and also for talking to me, but I’m fine. Please get some rest.”

“Okay, Mother,” Sakura teased. “Don’t forget that you’re also in a state of mild chakra exhaustion, so you need to rest as well.”

Shiori made a show of settling into her pillow. With one last grin in Sakura’s direction, she made a shooing motion and then let her eyelids flutter closed.

Sakura slipped out, sliding the door closed behind her. Despite her exhaustion, that had been kind of fun, though it had gotten off to a slightly rocky start. She liked Shiori. She hoped that Kakashi would, too, eventually. They’d be cute together.

---

Sakura pounded on the door so hard it rattled. She knew she’d seen a light on in his apartment window, so if that stupid man did not come to the door in the next minute she was going to have to break it –

The door flew out from beneath her fist.

“What?” Kakashi asked blearily. She was too busy staring to answer him. His visible eye was bloodshot and the parts of his ANBU uniform he still wore were ripped, singed, and covered in bloody, dirty goo. Even his posture was more slouched than usual; he wavered on his feet a little, as if he couldn’t support his own weight. He looked awful – and was that vomit in his hair? “Ten minutes of knocking led me to believe it was urgent, but since it’s clearly not, I’ll just go back to bed –“

“Don’t you dare,” snapped Sakura, brows furrowing. “You are going to sit down and let me heal you.”

“Sakura....” She could hear the warning in his tone but stubbornly disregarded it, jutting out her chin. She also ignored the glazed look to his visible eye that told her he was at least partially intoxicated.

“I do not have patience for idiots who like to lie about in their own filth. Take a seat, Sensei. Now.” She did her best to make sure her manner brooked no argument and attempted to harden her features to match.

“You don’t have the authority to order me around,” he said ominously, though his voice was pitched lightly and he was smiling in that deceptive manner of his.

“You don’t have to be conscious for me to heal you, Kakashi-sensei,” she returned, cracking her knuckles suggestively. “And you don’t really appear to be in a condition to stop me.”

His gaze turned stony at the implication. She sighed jadedly. “Look, I was tipped off that you were injured a little more seriously than you let on. For starters, I can see what looks like a third degree burn on your side even from here. Shizune may not have the disposition to force you into an infirmary bed, but I do, and Naruto would never forgive me if I let you hurt yourself for no reason. You can either sit down and shut up or I can schedule compulsory hospital visits after each and every future mission, starting first thing tomorrow morning. The authority in this situation belongs to me whether you like it or not. You have a choice, here, and I’m trying to make it easy for you.”

The words came out confidently, but after she said them, it sunk in what exactly she had just done. She’d just pulled rank on Kakashi. The blood drained from her face as she waited for his reaction. What had she been thinking, yelling at him like that? Idiot!

He said nothing, expression curiously blank. She watched anxiously as he turned and moved toward his bed, wincing at the unusual ungainliness in his gait. She followed him inside and shut the door behind her, unsure of what to expect. She found him sitting placidly. It was unnerving; she discovered herself waiting for him to pounce or something crazy like that, but shook her head to rid it of silly thoughts.

“Is your head injured? Your face?” she said eventually.

“No.”

Damn it, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking, curiosity renewed by her conversation with his ANBU teammate. Lighting her hands with healing chakra, she moved in closer, wrinkling her nose as she caught a whiff of his stench, a rancid mix of rotting guts, unwashed body, and alcohol. He caught her wrist as it approached his collarbone. She couldn't help but notice the dried blood flaking off his arm all the way to the elbow. She'd seen it before and she knew what it meant.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the green chakra suspiciously. “There’s no wound there.”

“Unless you love this shirt so much that you want it to be a permanent fixture – literally – then I’m going to cut it off. It’s melted into your skin where you’re burned.”

“You’re going to cut it off. With your hand,” he said sceptically.

“Haven’t you ever seen a chakra scalpel? You’re wasting my chakra when I don’t have a lot to spare. I did at least five surgeries today.” She sighed. “I know I’ve never healed you before because of conflict of interest policies but I’m actually pretty good at what I do, for once, as hard as that is to believe....” Though she tried to hide it in a flippant retort, she was a little hurt by his lack of confidence.

“Right. Go on then.” He sounded a little strained as if it were very trying for him to endure being cured as opposed to simply remaining in excruciating pain. Rolling her eyes, she proceeded to slice away the thin layer of fabric. He winced when her chakra-laden hand met his skin and then seemed surprised when only the fabric was cut. Maybe he hadn’t seen a chakra scalpel before, she mused. After all, he had to be half-dead and unconscious to allow himself to be placed in a hospital bed. By the time he woke up, he was usually all patched up. And to be honest, not many medics utilised chakra scalpels due to the control and practise necessary to wield them successfully.

She made quick work of the shirt but was forced to cut around the burnt areas. They would have to be removed separately, unfortunately for Kakashi. It wasn’t a very pleasant process. Out of courtesy, she left the mask on his face, simply separating it from the rest of the material it was connected to.

With the obstructions out of the way, she could see his wounds were pretty superficial besides a couple of more serious burns. She healed the easy stuff first to ease the sting of what was to come. “Lay on your right side,” she instructed, laying out the tools she would need, “and stay very still. Because this isn’t an official healing, I can’t give you anything to dull the pain. I’m warning you now: this will hurt.”

She began using chakra-sterilised forceps to pick out the bits and pieces of fabric stuck to raw patches of blistering skin. As she pulled the first scrap away, he hissed and his abdominals clenched up spastically. After that, though, there was no complaint as she endeavoured to clean his wounds.

She laboured in silence for awhile but eventually worked up the courage to say, “I’m sorry I was so harsh earlier. I haven’t slept in twenty or so hours and – well, that’s no excuse. In reality ... I think you kind of scared me. When you opened the door looking so.... I panicked for a minute. I had no right to speak to you like that.”

His only reply was a pained grunt.

“A lot of that blood wasn’t yours, I see,” she continued quietly. “I may have been overreacting a bit, but these burns would have gotten infected without treatment, even disregarding the fact that they would have scarred badly. Please be more careful in the future. It’s foolish to remain injured for no reason. If it’s just the hospital you have an aversion to, I’m always available off the books. I don’t mind, if it means you get looked at. You’re not the only one I extend the offer to, either, so please don’t feel guilty about taking me up on it.” He didn’t acknowledge that she’d spoken but she knew he’d heard her, at least. Eventually, she said, “Okay, all done with that. What else is there? Help me out a little.”

“Leg.”

“Sit up and let me see, then. Where, exactly?” Belatedly, she realised the question was redundant as she noticed the rusted-looking stain soaking through his right leg bindings. She frowned as she kneeled to inspect it more closely. Peeling away the tightly wrapped gauze, she gasped in slight surprise. The wound was worse than it had originally seemed. He must have re-wrapped the leg in the field, which had helped a little to stem the flow of blood and to hold the gaping edges of his calf together. The laceration was deep and jagged.

“What exactly where you planning to do about this, Kakashi-sensei? Let your leg rot off?” she snapped, scowling in frustration.

He chuckled sheepishly. “I didn’t think it was all that bad....”

“It’s an excellent thing you’re not a medic, then. You’d be crap at it,” she said bluntly. “This needs stitches before I can begin the healing process. I won’t apologise for the pain, you stupid man. Remember it next time.”

He watched her apprehensively as she prepared her suturing materials. It seemed he was rethinking his decision to forego proper treatment. Good. He let out a tiny moan as the needle first passed through his skin but remained silent after that. At least he wasn’t one of the whiners, she mentally scoffed. Then she’d really be forced to knock him out.

When she was done sewing him up, she started a chakra treatment to speed up the curative process. He was breathing shallowly now, panting like one of his summons on a hot day. She looked up, startled to find that he was even beginning to sweat a bit. “Deep tissue healing hurts, doesn’t it? Normally, it’s paired with pain killers. Next time you shred a muscle, go to the hospital and it’ll be a lot easier.” Shaking her head, she added for good measure, “If a ligament had been severed you wouldn’t have made it back on this leg.” She frowned as she realised what a close call it had been. “Okay, wiggle all your fingers and toes.”

He stared at her blankly.

“Do it!” she barked. Sighing, he obeyed and didn’t protest as she checked his pulse in the top of each foot and on the flat of both wrists. “Done for now,” she finally said. Though by no means had she performed a full check-up, she could feel her chakra sputtering inside her. She was reasonably sure nothing life-threatening had escaped her attention. It was time to quit. “I’ll have to remove the sutures next week sometime. If you do it yourself you’ll be sorry, do you hear me?” She glared into his eye, hoping her words made an impression. “Is there anything else injured?”

“No.”

“If I find out later that you’re lying, you will regret it. Are you positive I got everything?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then. Into the shower,” she ordered, rising from the floor and stretching out the kinks in her back.

“Excuse me?” His eye narrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, shut up. You’re disgusting and I won’t leave until I know you’re clean. It’s only sanitary.”

“I appreciate the effort but I don’t need a nursemaid, Sakura. I’m a big boy.”

“If I hadn’t just had to coerce you into necessary medical treatment like a child, maybe I’d agree,” she snorted.

“Fine,” he bit out, and she was surprised by the amount of irritation that crept into his voice, however slight. It meant that he was actually pretty angry with her. She wasn’t overly fond of that idea, but there had been no way to avoid it, she supposed.

Kakashi rose, gathered some fresh clothes from his dresser, and padded into his bathroom. He slid the door shut a little more forcefully than was necessary.

Sakura hmphed in annoyance, noting with satisfaction that his step was smooth once again. Beginning to clear up the mess she’d made, she groaned as she spotted how soiled his bedding was. In addition to the stains caused by her healing, it looked like he’d laid in it before she showed up. The shuriken-emblazoned coverlet was definitely worse for the wear. He couldn’t sleep with that. She gathered it up and cursed aloud as she saw that the sheets underneath were all bloodied up as well. Removing them, she set them aside with the duvet.

“Now to find replacements.” She wandered around the small apartment looking for fresh sheets but was too nervous to really pry into anything. This apartment was bigger than his last, he’d once commented offhand, but she couldn’t imagine what the old one must have been like. She’d never seen the place he’d had before the Pain invasion, but it must have been miniscule. This one was basically one open room with a tiny kitchenette attached plus the bathroom Kakashi was currently occupying. It was all he needed, she guessed, though it was kind of funny that Naruto’s flat was much bigger.

Finally deciding that peeking under the bed was innocuous enough, she was relieved to find a spare set of bed linens, though no replacement comforter. She made his bed up as best she could. She figured it was August so he shouldn’t need a blanket anyway. When she was done, she perched uncomfortably on the edge of the thin mattress, having a couple of more things to say to him before she left.

Eyes catching on the two framed pictures on his windowsill, she smiled softly. One scene was familiar: her genin team photo. It had been just about the only thing she cared about salvageable from the rubble of her house; later, she’d had copies made for Naruto and Kakashi, who had never found theirs.

Kakashi must have located his own genin picture, though one corner was torn and it was slightly scratched up. She recognised a younger Kakashi immediately and the Yondaime as well. She started when she realised how much the Fourth Hokage really did look like Naruto. If not for the slightly taller build, longer hair, and the lack of facial scars, it could be Naruto, really. She guessed her teammate would grow up to look just like his father. What a lucky guy. Her eyes slid next to the other boy in the photo whose goggles reminded her of those old things Naruto used to wear in Academy. The black-haired boy was glaring at Kakashi in a way so reminiscent of Naruto in her own generation’s photograph that she giggled. The girl, with tattooed marks on her cheeks not unlike Kiba, looked serene by comparison. Sakura wondered what the team had really had been like. She didn’t think they were still around, but maybe these people were Kakashi’s reasons to visit the memorial.

She jumped up when Kakashi spoke from behind her. “What the....?”

He was staring at the jumble of bedclothes at his feet. She scowled. “They were dirty, and not all of it was my fault, either. I’ll have them laundered, if you like –"

“That won’t be necessary.” His voice was still a little harsher than she was used to. He crossed his arms, looking at her pointedly.

Frowning, she reached into her pack and pulled out the report she’d written for Shiori and laid it on his bed. “Agent Cat requested that all of her teammates be briefed on the genjutsu and its unfortunate effects on her personality.”

“Temporary, I hope? She was insufferable.”

“Don’t be so insensitive. She’s really nervous about your reaction, you know. And of course it was temporary. Please read my description by tomorrow at the latest, as it explains the course of her recovery.”

He nodded, face impassive.

“The rest of your squad is still alive, by the way, not that you asked. They’re a little hurt that you haven’t visited them. They think you don’t care.”

Looking at her sharply, he frowned under his mask.

“Mogusa-san in particular is in pretty critical condition. He has three more procedures scheduled for tomorrow. Just keep it in mind.” Smoothing her slightly skewed skirt – a futile action, borne of habit, since the garment was smeared haphazardly with gore – she continued, “Thanks for cooperating with me. I appreciate it.” Without waiting for a response, knowing none would be forthcoming, she turned to leave. Just before she shut the apartment door behind her, she added, “Take care of yourself, Sensei. Please.”

---

The morning came far too soon. Sakura rose before the sun, as was her custom, and went drowsily about her morning ablutions.

She could feel yesterday’s uncommonly heavy exertions weighing on her as she dragged through her usual hospital rounds. Her brain didn’t seem to be functioning properly, forcing her to ask patients and fellow medics and nurses alike to repeat themselves, occasionally more than once. Finally, though, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached the particular sickbay to which her thoughts kept wandering, where the most at-risk patients were housed. She checked on the soundly sleeping Shiori first, though technically Oyone was the one charged with her care. Sakura stood at the woman’s bedside for a moment, irrationally jealous of her rest, before shaking herself and moving on to her actual patient.

Miyahara Ryoji, too, was sleeping. She checked his vitals without waking him and reviewed the night-shift’s notes in his chart. Nothing terribly problematic had presented while she’d been absent, thankfully. The fever recorded near midnight – the time Sakura had finally fallen into bed, she thought with disgust – was slightly worrisome, but his temperature had evened out fairly quickly and was now in a comfortable range. Overall, she was pleased by his progress. She would return to wake him and have a conversation after her rounds were complete, but most likely his – hopefully – last operation would take place this morning as planned.

After finishing up the last of her mundane new-shift tasks, she headed back towards Ryoji’s room. On the way, she stopped in to see Mogusa. Assisting Shizune with one of his multiple procedures yesterday had left Sakura a bit shaken. He was a colleague – a talented one – but on the table, he’d seemed so frail. None of his medical jutsu could help him now and it was a sobering thought. He’d made it through the night, though, so chances were, he would be fine.

Sakura smiled at him as he snoozed lightly, trying to ignore how laboured his breathing was, still. Shizune had successfully repaired the damage to his lungs but they would take awhile to heal completely. Tentatively, Sakura reached out to smooth a strand of his long, chestnut tresses. His hair had always been beautiful; when he recovered, she would tell him so. She’d ask him what conditioner he used as well.

“Sa ... kura ... sensei,” he wheezed, startling her hand away.

“Oh!” she squeaked. “I’m so sorry I woke you, Mogusa-san.”

He grimaced. She supposed it was meant to have been a smile. “I’m still ... alive?”

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?” She grinned cheekily. “We’re doing our best to keep you that way, too.”

Mogusa opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a hacking fit. Sakura poured him some water from a pitcher on the bedside table and helped him down a little of it.

“No blood from the cough,” she noted. “That’s an improvement from yesterday. Do you remember?” He nodded, not trusting himself to attempt speech again. “Your lips are still a little bit blue, but you have much more colour than before.” Quirking his mouth weakly, he settled himself gingerly back into his pillow. “Shizune-san’s your primary, by the way. If anyone asks, this is a social call. I’m not on your chart.”

“That’s right. You’re not,” snapped a voice from behind. “I am, right now.”

Sakura jumped about a foot in the air. It had been a long time since she’d been snuck up on like that and it spoke volumes about how tired she was. In the field, she’d be dead right now. Whirling around, she saw that the voice belonged to Hamada Hiroyuki. He was Mogusa’s night-shift monitor, apparently.

“Good morning, Hiroyuki-san,” she greeted, smiling brightly despite the man’s flinty expression. “Mogusa-san looks ever so much better today, doesn’t he? Isn’t that wonderful?” Actually, she’d hoped to see a little more improvement but it was best to remain positive about such things. He wasn’t worse, anyway, though it was hard to get much worse than on death’s door.

Hiroyuki ignored Sakura completely, brushing past her to reach the bedside. “How is your pain this morning?” he asked tersely.

“A six?” whispered Mogusa. “Five, maybe?”

Sakura frowned. “That’s a little low, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me, Sakura-kun,” Hiroyuki interjected, emphasising the suffix just enough to show that he meant it as insulting status reminder, “but you’ve your own patients to tend to and have no jurisdiction over mine. The previous Hokage may have let children run amok in the hospital, but times have changed. Please leave.”

Sakura stiffened. She had never liked Hiroyuki but had always tried to treat him fairly anyway – giving him more leeway than both Shizune and Tsunade had been willing to, actually. She had, however, spoken against him after his recent promotion to ANBU-level medic clearance and it seemed word had trickled down. Though they both held the title of ANBU medic now, when Danzou had cited lack of experience to demote her during his regime change – which had spread to every area of Konoha, including the hospital – he had also promoted Hiroyuki, effectively placing the man above her. Hiroyuki was milking his higher standing for all it was worth, now.

“I’ll check on you later, Mogusa-san,” Sakura said as turned her and walked away, back ram-rod straight.

Sakura sighed. It was going to be another long day and already she was flagging. As she left the room, she spotted Hiroyuki hanging a familiar-looking IV bag. The action struck her as odd, somehow, but the fleeting uncertainty fled her mind as she turned her attention towards Ryoji’s eminent surgery. Just the one more and he would be out of the woods. She couldn’t afford to screw this up.

---

A/N: And things begin to roll. Once again, the only original characters (so far) are Arai Shiori, Miyahara Ryoji, and Hamada Hiroyuki. It's also quite obvious that I've chosen to base basic medical care off of modern medicine. There are many significant differences between the shinobi hospital system and a "regular" hospital system that are worked out in my head. Maybe they'll come out explicitly in the story but maybe they won't. Most importantly, they're consistent in my mind so they should come across as consistent to the reader. If they do not, please feel free to point it out. I also take great pains to make all of my ailments medically accurate, but I am by no means a doctor, so if anyone spots a mistake I'd appreciate if he or she dropped me a line about it. Thanks.