I did it. I still want to die but I did this so that’s something

And once again, no idea where I’m going with this but here’s another god knows how long it will be fic. Yes I’m still working on all my other’s they’re just not cooperating at the moment lol. 

TW - Suicide and suicidal thoughts

Next

Ladybug stood on what was left of the Eiffel Tower, eyes moving from building to building cataloging the damage. Total loss, likely no survivors. Structural collapse imminent. Roof caved in but structurally sound otherwise. Her brain took it in with no real understanding of the carnage. Her heartbeat sounded far too loud in her head. When she heard boots land behind her she didn’t move.

“The fight is over, why haven’t you cast your cure?” The gruff sound of Batman’s voice brought despair but she pushed it back as she turned to look at him and his team. Even though she couldn’t see their eyes she could tell none of them would meet her gaze except their leader.

“You knew.” Her tone was flat and the others flinched. She felt rage boiling under her skin but she was too drained to let it out. They knew Chat was working with Hawkmoth and hadn’t told her.

“We had our suspicions, but no concrete proof. We couldn’t risk you tipping him off if we were right.” If she had any energy left to spare she would have strangled the man with his own cape.

“You agreed to inform me of everything you found. You have no understanding of the magic in use here and that information could have prevented this.” She never should have agreed to let them into Paris. Never should have trusted that they would hold up their end of the bargain.

“Your cure will fix it. You took down Hawkmoth, that’s the important thing.” She really wished she didn’t have to start looking for survivors so she could shove that condescending attitude down his throat, but Paris still needed her.

“I already cast it, that’s why the city is no longer on fire. You meddled in things you do not understand and now Paris is paying the price.” The casualty count was going to be horrendous. Her eyes trailed along the buildings again, unconsciously coming to a stop on the bakery. Total loss, likely no survivors. Her parents never left the building during Akuma attacks. She couldn’t focus on that now. “I have to go help the rescue crews.”

“You’ve always been able to fix it before, why not now?” He sounded angry, as if she was withholding her full power out of spite. As if she would make Paris pay for his stupidity.

“The Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous are not meant to work counter to each other. This is what happens when it does. Had you told me of your suspicions I could have benched Chat and taken his Miraculous.” Her tone still just sounded dead but she couldn’t do anything about it.

“If that had happened Hawkmoth would have been alerted and who knows what he would have done.” She was starting to crack, she could feel it. She needed to get away from them.

“Whatever it was, I would have been able to fix it. This is exactly why I made you swear to give me all the information you found. Paris lies in ruins and you had the power to stop it.” It was an exaggeration. The city was devastated yes, but it looked like maybe only one in twenty buildings had suffered significant damage. It could be rebuilt, but the people of Paris would take far longer to recover.

“This is not our fault.” She wanted to scream, or cry, or rage at the injustice of it all, but she couldn’t. She was Ladybug and her city needed to see her calm. They needed her to take care of them now more than ever.

“No. It’s mine for believing that I could trust you. It is not a mistake I’ll be making again.” She jumped off the beam without waiting for a reply, heading to where she was most needed to save lives. Away from her home, even though that’s where she most wanted to be. Later she would process the fact that her parents were gone. Now, she just went from building to building gauging the likelihood of survivors. She felt dead inside and couldn’t honestly bring herself to care.

———————————————–

128,356

The number was burned into her mind. The final death count from the last confrontation with Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. It seemed far too high until she realized that Chat had been targeting Akuma shelters. He’d wanted a higher death toll, hoping it would get her to agree to make a wish. She’d never had an actual number before. When everyone was brought back, no one seemed to care how many had died. Now it was just a constant reminder of her failure. Her arrogance. She should have seen what was going on.

The rebuilding effort was slow. It would have been nice if the Justice League had followed through on their promise to help in the aftermath, but there was some sort of emergency and they couldn’t spare the resources anymore. Ladybug did what she could to help. She hosted fund raisers and went to functions to try and keep spirits up. She went to every public wake or funeral she could to apologize to the families. Far fewer people blamed her than she felt should.

She held press conferences with the Mayor weekly to update everyone on the state of the city, and announce new projects or programs. Until one day she just couldn’t do it anymore. She used the forum to announce her retirement. The city was healing and they had most of the money they needed. They would be fine without her and she couldn’t be here anymore. She couldn’t take the guilt and the pain that just walking around Paris brought. Two months after the last battle, Ladybug was simply gone.

————————————————–

“Miss Dupain-Cheng!” Marinette groaned as she recognized the voice yelling her name. She knew it was a bad idea to come here but the university had one of the best business programs and a decent fashion curriculum as well. Audrey had suggested it because she thought Marinette would benefit far more from a business degree than having teachers criticizing her designs when she was already running a profitable commission business. She kept walking, hoping that the person who yelled at her would give up. She should have known her luck wasn’t that good.

Nightwing dropped in front of her and she debated just walking around him but she had a feeling that wouldn’t stop him. Last she checked, Signal was the only one normally out during the day which meant he’d likely come out here just to talk to her. It also meant they were monitoring her movements, and likely anyone connected to the Miraculous. Granted that was just her and Chloe who were not in jail, at least that they knew about. Nightwing’s grin faltered as she glared at him but he quickly returned to his cheery persona.

“Hello I’m-”

“I know who you are. What do you want?” He frowned at her.

“I see Ladybug poisoned the well. That’s rather unprofessional.” She felt her eye twitch and had to stop herself from punching him.

“Of course you would blame her. Obviously no Parisian would put together the timeline and realize the Justice League left them to fend for themselves in their time of need. Now, you stalking me on the other hand, that’s unprofessional.” He sputtered something that seemed to be a denial but there weren’t any words that she could make out. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going. My ride is waiting.”

“Do you know how to contact Ladybug? Or where she is?” Marinette blinked at him. What the hell? They had absolutely no reason to be looking for her.

“I wouldn’t tell you if I did. As far as I know, no one has seen or heard from her since that last press conference. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she was one of the almost two thousand suicides that happened in the months after that last fight.” A lot of people had lost everything in that fight, her included, and she’d definitely thought about it. If there was anyone else to take over as Guardian, she probably would have. Audrey and Chloe had convinced Andre to take her in once they found out about her parents and they were honestly the only thing that kept her from completely falling apart.

“She wouldn’t have done that.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything but she still rolled her eyes at him.

“I apologize. I didn’t realize I was talking to an expert on Ladybug’s mental state. Since you know her so well, you should have no problems finding her on your own. Are we done?” he didn’t seem to be able to come up with a response so she walked around him.

“We’re not the bad guys here.”

“Yes, and Batman threatening our Mayor’s career and livelihood to force him to contact Ladybug was a really stand up thing to do. Especially since he never had a way to do it in the first place.” Nightwing froze for just a second, but it was enough.

“Your Mayor has a tendency to exaggerate.” He was trying to put on an air of indifference but his posture was ridged

“I was in the room at the time, but feel free to keep digging yourself a deeper hole.”

“There wasn’t anyone else in the room.” It was an automatic response and he seemed far more surprised at it than she did. Marinette grinned at him.

“There’s a reason for the phrase ‘quiet as a mouse’. Just because you, Batman, and Spoiler didn’t see me, doesn’t mean I wasn’t there, recording the conversation.” His mouth actually dropped open as she named the people who’d been there, and snapped shut when she mentioned the recording. She’d been all for using it to go after them in a public forum, but Andre had suggested keeping it until they needed it.

“I’m sure if it sounded like that it was just translation issues. Things get muddled all the time.” She raised an eyebrow at him wondering if he could hear how weak his argument sounded.

“That might be a good excuse if not for the fact that Batman is on record as being fluent in french. It was the main reason the Justice League sent you lot to Paris in the first place.” Watching Nightwing fumble for words should have been amusing but she just felt drained. “Look, just drop all this surveillance and stalking garbage and no one will ever know that recording exists. Leave me and Chloe alone because neither one of us will lead you where you want to go. If Ladybug is alive she obviously doesn’t want to be found and until she does nothing you do will make a difference.” She tried to walk away again but his soft voice stopped her.

“Do you really think she’s dead?” She wanted to say yes, just to get them off her back but she couldn’t.

“No. She wouldn’t just abandon all her responsibilities like that. No matter how much she wanted to.” And, oh, how she’d wanted to. All the Miraculous went back into the box after the last battle except hers. Even then she’d renounced Tikki anytime she didn’t need to transform. She couldn’t handle the guilt of her failure and the ultimate disappointment from the Kwami.

“She abandoned Paris.” Marinette’s rage began bubbling up but she forced it down. The Bats knew nothing about Paris.

“Believe what you want. Just leave us the fuck alone.”

———————————————

“It really does have the best business program.” Chloe’s words caused Marinette to groan and drop her head to the table with a satisfying thud. She knew that before they started talking about it, she was just hoping Chloe would have a different opinion. “I’ll go with you, it won’t be that bad.”

“How is you beating the shit out of any Bat you come across not that bad?” Chloe gave an amused snort but Mari was serious. She hadn’t told anyone she’d been Ladybug, or that she was still the Guardian, but Chloe was still overly protective of her. Not to mention what the Bats tried to pull with her father. When she’d mentioned that the Bats were obviously monitoring them she’d had to stop Chloe from going back to Gotham.

“You told them to stay away from us. If they don’t, they deserve what they get.” Marinette shot her a flat look. They both knew they weren’t just going to stop tracking them because Marinette said so. They were literally the Bats only lead to get to Ladybug.

“Chloe, you know damn well they’re going to be bothering us constantly. Not to mention do we really want to move to a city where people die in rogue attacks on a daily basis?” As a Guardian, Gotham called out to her to help restore the balance, but as the only Guardian she wasn’t certain it was a risk she should take. If something happened to her… If they were going to do this she was going to have to come up with a plan incase of death far quicker than she’d wanted.

“We’ll get a house outside of town and the university itself isn’t targeted very often for some reason. Probably because the size of the campus makes pulling together a decent amount of hostages difficult.” Marinette could only blink at her. Chloe must have started looking into this weeks ago, before Marinette even went to the school.

“You really just want to confront them don’t you?” She just continued tapping on her phone but Marinette saw a small smile form. “Honestly Chloe, do you really think it’s a good idea to piss them off on their territory? What I did was bad enough.” She should have been prepared for it but it hadn’t occurred to her that she would run across any of them in a three hour trip. She’d let her emotions get the better of her.

“What you said was not nearly enough. Especially if they still think Ladybug did anything wrong. The mighty Batman needs to be taken down a peg or two until he can finally admit he’s not infallible.” Well she wasn’t wrong, but Marinette still didn’t think them going on the offensive was a good idea. Maybe they would be content to continue monitoring them from a distance.

——————————————–

That hope barely made it through her first class. As she was trying to leave the building she was blocked by a man and when she looked up he was shooting her the same smile he had as Nightwing. Why could nothing in her life go right?

“Hi! I’m Richard-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t think for a minute that you being in civies gives you a pass to follow me.” He just gaped at and she rolled her eyes. “Move.” He didn’t so she tried to go around him but he wouldn’t let her.

“Miss, I think there’s been a mistake I’m-”

“You’re Nightwing and you need to move and leave me alone unless you want Batman to be embarrassed on every news station I can find contact information for.” She managed to push past him while he panicked but before she could get clear he reached out to grab her arm.

“Hang on, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just volunteering for the university to help new students get settled. Not everyone in Gotham is a vigilante.” Was he really trying to convince her that she was crazy? Coming here was such a terrible idea.

“That fake smile of yours is a dead give away.” He actually pouted at her.

“My smile is not fake. I-” A fist came out of nowhere and the man was on the ground with Chloe glaring murder at him.

“Keep your hands off my sister you creep.” She didn’t yell but the words were loud enough to gain the attention of students milling about. Murmurs started and the man looked even more panicked.

“Now hang on, this is just a big misunderstanding.” He was scanning the area but Marinette wasn’t sure if he was looking for an escape or a way to salvage the situation.

“Oh, so I didn’t just see you block my sister from exiting a building and then, when that didn’t work, you put your hands on her without her consent. What exactly am I misunderstanding?” The murmurs grew louder and his expression turned harder.

“Look I was just trying to help-”

“We don’t need your help. Let’s go.” Chloe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her away before she could say anything, not that she was sure she wanted to. She did take pleasure in the fact that there was already a bruise forming on the man’s jaw where Chloe had hit him.

“Good form on the punch, though I’m going to assume you didn’t give it your all since his jaw isn’t broken.” Chloe had been taking a number of martial arts and kickboxing lessons since the first time she became Queen Bee. She sometimes forgot exactly how dangerous Chloe could be.

“I figured you would object to me sending someone to the hospital on our first day. I also didn’t hear any of the conversation so I didn’t want to be accused of overreacting.” Given that Marinette had purposely kept her voice low she wasn’t surprised. She turned to look back at the crowd and found some whispering, a few were snickering at the man on the ground but one was outright laughing and Nightwing flipped him off. So probably another bat then. Her gaze went to the rooftops next and she caught sight of Spoiler. When the vigilante looked her way she offered a wave. The girl started and immediately backed out of sight but not before Chloe saw her as well. “Seriously? They couldn’t just leave us be for one day?”

“Well, you’ll at least be happy to know that you punched Nightwing in the face.” Marinette winced as soon as the words came out. Was she planning on telling Chloe? Absolutely, but she really should have waited until they got home. She had to physically stop the girl from turning back. “Now it would definitely seem like an overreaction. Don’t worry, I highly doubt this is the last we’ll see of them. You’ll have more than enough of an opportunity to beat the shit out of someone I’m sure.”

“I’d fucking better.” The words came out in a growl more than anything else. She was going to be in a foul mood the rest of the day.

“Maybe we should just skip the rest of our classes for the day and go home. You’re not in the right frame of mind to learn anything and I just want to not be stared at for a while.” She’d felt eyes on her since they got to the campus and it was making her skin crawl. Even when she knew where it was coming from it didn’t help the paranoia. Chloe turned from murderous to concerned in an instant.

“We’ll look into switching as many of our classes to online as possible. That will cut down on the time we have to be somewhere they can watch us.” It seemed like running away but at this point Mari was fine with that. She wasn’t here to socialize or make connections. She had more than she needed already. She was here to get her degree and get out. The sooner the better at this point. “Maybe we should just drop out and try somewhere else.” She had no idea what Chloe saw on her face but it couldn’t have been pleasant.

“No, it’s fine. We’ll go as much online as we can and everything will be fine. And we can always head back to New York for a couple weeks if we need to. I’m not going to let a furry and his menagerie keep me from getting the best education I can.”  Chloe let out a bark of laughter.

“There’s the snark I know and love. Come on, let’s get home and call Mom. She’ll know what we need to do.”

———————————-

Marinette couldn’t quite get a handle on what she was seeing. She’d been in their garden, sketching and minding her own business, when voices dragged her back to reality. Upon looking up she found Gotham’s Sirens gathered in front of her, studying her. Because that wasn’t creepy. And they just continued to stare at her, so now it was awkward. She was about to say something when a thought hit her. Marinette turned to glare at Catwoman. She looked taken aback but the other two were sniggering to themselves.

“You’re dating Batman.” The woman looked confused but nodded. Before she could actually say anything Marinette broke into a string of curses that had all of them looking at her like she was possessed. “You can tell that egotistical, stalking piece of trash to go to hell. I’m so tired of this bullshit! I should be able to have privacy in my own fucking home and he sends you here. Sending his team to surveil us as civilians didn’t work and he thinks this will? Chloe! We’re going to dismember a flying rodent!”

“About damn time!” Chloe rushed out of the house only to jerk to a stop when she spotted the Sirens. “What the actual fuck?”

“Okay, wait, I think there’s been some type of misunderstanding. I have no idea who you are and Batman definitely didn’t send me here.” Chloe cocked her head studying the woman.

“She’s not lying.” After growing up around politicians and business owners who were always looking to benefit themselves, Chloe had developed an impressive ability to tell when people were being truthful. “But why exactly are you here then?”

“That would be because of me.” Marinette just frowned at Poison Ivy as she stepped forward. “The plants in the area have suddenly started thriving far beyond what they normally do in or around Gotham, other than the plants I tend to myself. I wanted to find the source and they led me to you.”

“Me?” She couldn’t help the disbelief in her tone.

“Yeah that makes sense.” Her head whipped around to Chloe only to find that she was completely serious.

“How does that make sense?” Chloe just rolled her eyes.

“You’re a nurturer Mari. You take care of everyone and everything around you. It was literally your entire personality before…” She grimaced and looked away. “Before shit happened. It makes sense that they’d be drawn to that energy.” Poison Ivy gave a thoughtful hum.

“I can sort of feel what she’s talking about. The plants are very fond of you and more than a little upset that you’re in pain.” Mari felt her eye twitch and focused on a point beyond all of them.

“Not exactly thrilled about that myself.” Her mumbled response brought concerned looks from all the women and Mari started feeling like the air was too thin.

———————————————

Chloe could only sigh as Mari ran into the house. She wasn’t ready to open up or be comforted yet and nothing anyone said or did was going to change that fact. Everyone else just chalked up her attitude to survivor’s guilt but Chloe was certain there was more to it. As much as she wanted to know what it was, she wouldn’t push. It wouldn’t do any good anyway. Catwoman let out an awkward cough.

“So what’s your beef with the World’s Greatest Detective?” Chloe sneered at the words, she couldn’t help it.

“Greatest Detective my ass. If he could do his job he wouldn’t be stalking us.” None of the women seemed to know if they should be amused or concerned. “He’s trying to find Ladybug and hit a dead end that he thinks we’re the answer to. It’s pathetic really.”

“Ladybug? You mean that Parisian hero that blames him for what happened?” Chloe felt her spine stiffen and she wanted nothing more than to either follow Mari or go find a Bat to rip apart. How dare he make this about him.

“If that’s what he said he’s a liar or delusional. The only person Ladybug blames for what happened is herself. She doesn’t even blame that stupid fucking cat for what he did. She should have figured it out sooner, she should have prevented it, she should have been a better hero.” The hero was with her father constantly to help with everything and Chloe had heard every self condemnation that she threw at herself. No matter what anyone else said, she ‘knew’ the blame lay with her and there was no getting through to her. “If he’s looking for an apology he can go straight to hell. There’s no way I’d even attempt to find a way to contact her just so he can pile on to the shitstorm she already suffered. Assuming she can even be found.”

“You think she gave up being a hero?” Chloe winced at Catwoman’s question. She really hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

“Given that she hasn’t been seen in over a year I’d say that’s obvious.” The women shared a look she couldn’t decipher before Harley Quinn stepped closer to her.

“What did you mean then?” The question was soft, almost as if she was worried if she was too loud it would stop Chloe from answering, or make her run away.

“In public, Ladybug forced herself to be perfect. She never faltered, never broke down. After that last press conference, she had a meeting with my father and I ran into her as she was leaving.” That entire encounter was burned into her brain. The guilt she carried for not saying more was useless and she knew it but it didn’t stop it from gnawing at her. “The look in her eyes… it was the same look my friend Sabrina had the day before she killed herself… the same look Mari has everytime she thinks about Paris.” That was why she stuck to Mari like glue whenever possible. She didn’t blame Sabrina. That final battle had been bad enough but she’d watched Chat Noir literally rip her father apart on live TV. Finding out it was actually Adrien had broken what little control she had left. Chloe hadn’t understood what that dead look in her eyes truly meant until after the fact.

Harley pulling her into a hug interrupted her thoughts. She hesitated before returning it. Her mother had gotten better but she still wasn’t physically affectionate and she tried very hard not to lean on Mari emotionally given everything that had happened. This was really nice. When she looked at the other two, Ivy was staring worriedly and the house and Catwoman was glaring in the direction of Gotham proper. The seemed to both shake off their thoughts at the same time and began whispering while Harley continued to hug her and rub her back in a soothing manner. She felt like that should worry her but she couldn’t muster the energy for it.

Next

I’m here to have a little rant. I’ve seen some disrespectful behaviour on other social networks and I know I’m okay to release my thoughts to you because this is a safe space. Here goes…

If Hayley is “dodging” questions about these deeply raw and personal songs about a period of her life where she has been incredibly vulnerable, even suicidal, you don’t get to keep pestering her. You don’t get to make out like her avoiding questions is a “fuck you” to you personally. You don’t get to keep asking invasive questions. Nobody is entitled to know the stories behind these songs, nobody is entitled to hear about which song is about who or what. Take a hint. Leave her alone.

Crash and Burn - Healing Hands, chapter 13

A03,FF

This amazing art is from @tammi25 who created it for me as part of a giveaway. Look how soft and precious they are together! Also

——————————————————–

Sakura opened her eyes to darkness, dizzy with confusion and the lack of sleep. A memory drifted through her fingers, too tenuous to capture, as she blinked at the clock on her night stand. It was a couple hours past midnight, far too late for the hammering sound that filled her apartment. Groaning, Sakura dragged a pillow over her head. She would need to talk to the landlord about the proper hours for people to make repairs, but she’d do it tomorrow. For now, she was thankful to be back in the blissful warmth of her bed instead of on Yamato’s couch. All she wanted was a few more hours of sleep.

The noise came again, louder than before. Grumbling under her breath, Sakura threw off her blankets and glanced down at her pager. The black face stared up at her, a reminder that a hospital emergency wasn’t pulling her out of bed, but something much more mundane. Sakura huffed out a breath of frustration. Her first night of decent sleep in a week, and it was interrupted by someone else’s selfishness. Still complaining internally, Sakura rolled out of bed and moved toward the living room.

It took the woman several sleep deprived seconds to connect the banging noise to her door. Frowning, Sakura rubbed her eyes to remove the sleep grit and blurriness. It was possible that one of her friends might need help, but she doubted it. Most of them would have gone to the hospital first. Preparing a lecture for whomever stood on the other side of the door, Sakura yanked it open.

Angry words died in Sakura’s throat. The cheap glow of the streetlights wreathed Yamato like a halo, paling his already waxy complexion to ghostly. The bright spots of color in the man’s cheeks rivaled the red of his bloodshot eyes, only partially shadowed by the grey hoodie that hid his hair. Yamato’s hands shook as he tugged at the hem without seeming to realize what he was doing. Damp patches marred the front of his shirt, and the heavy scent of alcohol that filled the space between them left little doubt about what caused them.

Yamato managed a weak chuckle that bordered on manic as he clutched his hands in front of him. “Didn’t know where else to go,” he confessed to his shoes.

For a moment, the petty side of Sakura wanted to growl that Yamato should have checked himself into the hospital. Or, failing that, he could have gone to Kakashi. But, she supposed that she understood why he didn’t want to. Swallowing the annoyance, Sakura pushed the door wider. Yamato staggered past her, bumping against the wall as she shut the panel behind them. The man uttered a string of incoherent words as she followed him into the room.

“How much have you drunk,” Sakura asked, reaching out to steady Yamato’s arm. The man flinched away and nearly toppled a side table in his hurry to reach the couch. She caught him as he half fell onto the cushions, following him down.

“Did you take any of the medication?” Sakura tried to press her fingers against the man’s pulse point, but he batted her away. “ Come on, I need to know if you took it. Both of them together could kill you.”

The strangled laugh in the man’s chest made Sakura’s blood run cold. Yamato’s eyes drifted shut. She shook his shoulders hard enough to make him squint up through his alcohol haze, then she cursed when he appeared to lapse into unconsciousness. Sakura slapped his cheek. “Dammit Yamato, wake up. What did you do?”

Yamato’s dark eyes fought to focus on Sakura’s face as he mumbled something under his breath. She frowned and caught his wrist. Sakura was content to feel the steady thump of his pulse against her fingertips. More indecipherable words spilled out of Yamato’s mouth. “I can’t understand you if you don’t enunciate,” Sakura grumbled, struggling to figure out what he meant while also making sure he wasn’t dying.

Drawing a deep breath, Yamato opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as his face took on a greenish cast. He struggled toward his feet, clutching at Sakura’s arm. He pulled her half onto the couch with him, then swallowed as his voice grew heavy. “My name is Tenzo.”

“Okay,” Sakura agreed. Content that the danger had passed after a moment, she stood, helped the man into a standing position, and slipped an arm around his back to take some of his weight. Even as they rose, Yamato stumbled and almost dragged her back to the ground. Sakura’s mind raced through a thousand scenarios of what Yamato meant, but they had bigger problems. “Talk to me; what did you take? A soldier pill, the medicine I left, or something stronger?”

Yamato mumbled again as Sakura led him deeper into her apartment. She considered staying at the couch because it was closer, but it wouldn’t be as comfortable or as convenient. Since the bedroom was nearer to the bathroom, Sakura guided him that way. Yamato fumbled with the pocket on his sweatshirt, words alarmingly slurred when he tried to speak. She strained to understand with little success.

Dropping Yamato unceremoniously into the still warm bed, Sakura settled next to him. His head drooped to the side, and his mouth grew slack as his body sank deeper into whatever he’d done to it. Sakura gave his shoulders another shake. “What did you do,” she repeated, her voice modulating to the calm tone that came from working in a tense, medical setting every day. Taking Yamato’s left wrist in her lap, Sakura checked his pulse a second time. “Come on, tell me what you took.”

“Didn’t,” Yamato answered, finally managing a single, coherent word. Brown eyes swam in and out of focus in the poor lighting of Sakura’s bedroom. He reached for the pocket on the front of his sweatshirt, blowing out a breath. “Almost took ‘em all, though.”

A distinctive rattle filled the air as Yamato pushed a bottle in Sakura’s direction. Stomach tight with a fear that she didn’t want to face, Sakura opened the top and dumped the tablets into her palm. A quick count of the medication set her racing heart at ease; all of them were still there. As she poured them back into the bottle, the meaning behind Yamato’s words sank in, making bile rise in her throat.

Sakura had never considered that it might be dangerous to leave pills with Yamato, or that he might use them to hurt himself. If he’d taken more than the prescribed amount, it would have slowed his respiration, potentially enough to starve his brain of oxygen, if he didn’t stop breathing altogether. Second guessing her relief, Sakura glanced at Yamato’s lips and noted the rosy, pink color. He wasn’t cyanotic, at least, and his rapid heart rate should have tipped her off.

“How much did you drink,” Sakura asked, trying to keep Yamato focused long enough to get the answers that she needed. If he lapsed into unconsciousness, she wouldn’t have much choice but to take him to the hospital and run tests. She wanted to avoid that if she could, if only out of respect. “Was there anything else?”

Yamato managed a weak shake of his head, and the movement reignited the sickly pallor of his face. Sakura counted the too quick beats of his heart rate while she waited for an answer. He inhaled before blinking up at her. “Half a bottle,” he slurred out the words, then paused for several heartbeats. “More or less.”

Sakura frowned as she laid the hand that she’d been monitoring on top of Yamato’s chest with the other one. His pulse was high, but not dangerously so. Whatever alcohol he’d drank, there would be no more. She could control this. She’d cleaned him up once; she could do it again. “What were you thinking,” she chided, not expecting an answer. Sakura considered whether it would be better to get the man out of his heavy sweatshirt so that he could rest better, or if it was too much trouble to bother with.

“I wanted it to stop,” Yamato whispered. His voice sounded younger than Sakura had ever imagined him to be, almost frightened. Squeezing his eyes shut, Yamato rolled to the side so his back faced her. When he drew a deep breath, Sakura wondered if he was going to be sick or if he was trying to hide the emotion that his voice betrayed. Then, he continued, “I just wanted it all to stop.”

The anger that Sakura had been clinging to moments before evaporated, replaced by an understanding that settled like lead in her stomach. The words were dangerous if they meant what they sounded like. But, she had to be sure. “You wanted what to stop?”

The steady cadence of Yamato’s breathing was the only sound Sakura received. After a minute, a soft snore slid between the man’s lips as his body lost the fight with consciousness. Despite the color high in his cheeks, he looked more peaceful than she’d seen in days. Sakura needed an explanation, but Yamato needed the rest more. Tomorrow morning was soon enough to probe for the answers that neither of them wanted to talk about.

Dragging the trash bin closer to the bed in case Yamato was sick, Sakura turned on the nightstand lamp so that the man wouldn’t be disoriented whenever he woke up. With a sigh, she made her way to the couch in the living room. One day, she’d sleep in a real bed again.

——————————————————–

The peace lasted for approximately two hours, then Sakura woke to the sound of Yamato being sick in the bedroom. She looked around in confusion and tried to remember what the noise could be, then sighed and threw the blankets back. By the time she reached her room, Yamato had rolled onto his back with a low groan that sounded uncomfortably like a sob. Sakura dumped the contents of the trashcan down the toilet and rinsed it out before returning to the bedroom.

Yamato’s face was paler still, and he’d thrown an arm over his eyes to block out the light from the lamp that she’d left on the nightstand. Sakura sat next to him on the edge of the bed. “You okay?” The silence lingered for several long heartbeats, then she tried a second time. “Yamato?”

“It’s Tenzo,” the man answered. His voice slurred under the effects of the alcohol still in his system, but it was clearer than it had been. He pushed into a sitting position and moved to the side, making room for Sakura. “Yamato was a code name I used when leading team Kakashi.”

Though Sakura had heard the words earlier, she’d assumed that Yamato had been talking nonsense. Now, she looked at him in confusion. The man leaned against the headboard of the bed, not meeting her gaze. At least five years had passed since they met on the mission that led to Sasuke’s base, and Yamato had led Team Kakashi for months before the war started. Had he been pretending to be someone else all that time, and if so, who knew his true identity? Kakashi, surely, but did anyone else?

Sakura’s frown deepened as she tried to reconcile the thought. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

Less than ten hours ago, Sakura had been sure that Yamato wanted nothing to do with her. He’d made that much clear earlier in the evening. Offering a phantom laugh, he shrugged. “Dunno, seemed like something you should know.”

“Well,” Sakura began, watching the slump in Yama—Tenzo’s shoulders. “It’s nice to meet you, Tenzo.”

A half smile crossed the man’s lips, and he mumbled something that Sakura couldn’t understand. He’d had enough alcohol to still be heavily under the influence, even now. Yam—Tenzo said that he’d drunk almost half a bottle, which meant that his body was just now catching up with what he’d ingested. Unfortunately, like most of the things that he had been going through lately, Tenzo would only feel worse before he felt better.

Tenzo opened his eyes, blinked at the brightness of the room, then closed them again. Sakura considered nudging him to lie down, but remained still and watched him instead. The hard lines of Tenzo’s face softened as his body sank back into sleep. Anger and tension melted away, making the man look more approachable somehow, or maybe it was a trick of the soft bedroom light.

Sakura lifted one of Tenzo’s hands in hers and laid it palm up in her lap. He stirred and mumbled something, but she didn’t catch the meaning of the words. Gently pressing on Tenzo’s pulse point, Sakura released her own tensed breath. His heart rate was slowing down the way it should have. Nausea and general hangover notwithstanding, he would be fine in the morning.

Tenzo’s breathing leveled out and deepened within five minutes. Sakura remained where she was when he slumped to the side. His head lolled onto her shoulder as his body relaxed further. Sakura considered nestling Tenzo back into bed and returning to the living room, but his contentment decided her. Leaning back, she closed her eyes; this was definitely more comfortable than the couch.

——————————————————–

Tenzo woke to an almost familiar warmth coursing through his body rather than pain, and it took him a couple of heartbeats to remember why that was remarkable. He swallowed around the cottony flavor of his tongue, trying to find some moisture to wash away the taste of stale alcohol. The scent of whiskey was unmistakable in the air. Opening his eyes, Tenzo found Sakura beside him. One hand rested on his wrist, and a green glow enveloped her. The woman offered a tight smile. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I have any right to,” Tenzo answered, trying to fit together the fractured pieces of his memory. There had been some questionable choices, a lot of alcohol, and a few memories that made no sense at all. A blush rose into his cheeks when he realized they were in Sakura’s bed. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“You weren’t too bad, considering your condition.” Sakura’s voice took on a decidedly playful manner that made the heat in Tenzo’s face intensify. Then, she chuckled. “I mean, you’re definitely not the worst overnight visitors I’ve ever had, Tenzo.”

Tenzo’s mind leaped to several conclusions that he didn’t like, especially with the way that Sakura’s voice curled around his name. He belatedly realized that she’d called him Tenzo, not Yamato, and more pieces fell into place. Tenzo remembered coming to Sakura’s apartment and being sick, but another hazy image replaced it: the woman curled beside him on the bed. The uncertainty must have shown on his face because she burst out laughing.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sakura teased, shaking her head. “Your precious innocence is still intact. You passed out not long after you got here.”

Tenzo laughed, hoping to downplay the relief that swam through his chest at learning that he and Sakura hadn’t done anything except sleep beside each other. There had been too many mornings where the blur of alcohol and bad decisions left him questioning what may or may not have happened the night before. Tenzo pushed those thoughts out of his mind and let Sakura’s teasing remark slide, mostly because the memories were returning full force. Exhaling, he realized that there was something more pressing than his apology. “Thank you, for everything,” he repeated.

Sakura’s brow furrowed as the healing glow on her hands faded. “Of course. I couldn’t cure all the symptoms, but that should help with the headache and nausea. Your chakra is calmer than it was, at least.”

Tenzo realized that he didn’t feel nearly as bad as he should have considering the amount of whiskey that he’d had the previous night. He dipped his head in acknowledgement, but that hadn’t been what he’d meant. “Not just that,” he clarified, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks for not turning me in the second I showed up on your doorstep, for letting me stay the night, and everything else. You’ve done far more than I deserve.”

Pushing into a sitting position, Tenzo wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol. He glanced down at the stained sweatshirt he wore, and tugged it over his head. There was a plain t-shirt underneath, one hopefully less infused by the scent of his failure. Tugging it down his stomach, Tenzo balled the sweatshirt in his hands. Sakura moved back to give him space, but her calculating eyes watched his every move. The woman chewed on her lip in the universal sign of nervousness. “Do you remember much of last night?”

Tenzo froze, trying to sort through the chaos of his thoughts to determine which one Sakura wanted him to remember. He shrugged and scrubbed a hand through his hair as the woman continued. “As much as I want an explanation on the name change, you said some things that I can’t ignore, as both your doctor, and as your friend.”

Sakura retook her seat on the edge of the bed. For one panicked moment, Tenzo thought she would reach for his hand, but she didn’t. “You said that you wanted everything to stop. What did you mean?”

It would have been easy to play the words off as a trick of the alcohol, but Tenzo faced the hurt for a moment. It didn’t take much for the memory to resurface, for him to feel the darkness and the ache in his chest that said the world was better off without him. It only took a single breath to recall Tenzo’s fear of what was happening to him coupled with the shame that his body still craved the thing destroying him. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could hear the gentle creak of the World Tree above him.

Sakura’s fingers brushed Tenzo’s forearm, and he jumped. The room swam back into focus along with the woman’s intense, green gaze. “I can’t help if I don’t understand. And, I can’t understand if you won’t tell me.”

“Sometimes, it just feels like things would be easier if I wasn’t around.” Tenzo mumbled the words that he’d always been afraid to say aloud. He looked away from Sakura so that he wouldn’t see the pity, shock, or whatever other emotion she felt at the confession. “I wouldn’t screw up anything that way.”

“You’re one of the most capable shinobi I know,” Sakura argued, pulling her hand back from Tenzo’s with a frown. “You aren’t screwing up anything by needing help.”

Tenzo couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that rumbled in his chest. “Oh, I’m not? I can’t lead missions, and I have at least one shinobi who’s been flagged as a danger to themselves under my leadership. My Anbu are in the hands of a less experienced leader, I left Kakashi’s personal protection to someone else, the village security will be watched by still another person, and it’s only a matter of time before something falls apart. And, it’s my fault for being too weak to handle it all.”

Each admission was drawn like poison leaching from a wound. Getting his failings out in the open didn’t make Tenzo feel any better; if anything, it left him emptier. Sakura sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s too much for one person to do?”

“Anbu leadership has done it for years,” Tenzo answered, his fixation on his failures making the response whip sharp. “I just can’t keep up.”

Sakura tsked under her breath. “From what I understand, Danzo is hardly a leader to emulate. I don’t know who led it before that, but I promise that they didn’t do it by themselves. As much as I’d like to run the hospital my way, I can’t do it alone either. Times change; it doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

“Of course,” Tenzo growled to end the argument. The lie didn’t make him feel any better, and Sakura wasn’t going to convince him otherwise. It was pointless to keep going over the same thing. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Huffing out a breath, Sakura changed tactics. “I can see what you’re doing, but you have to realize that even if something is hard for you, it doesn’t mean that you’re screwing it up. I mean, would you admit that Kakashi is a failure as well?”

Tenzo’s brow creased in confusion as he mulled over the words. “Of course not, senpai is one of the strongest men I know.”

“Okay, but by your reasoning, he’s a failure.” Sakura’s voice was neutral rather than judging. “Or, do you think he runs the village on his own?”

Tenzo shook his head with a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t getting his point across at all. “Of course he doesn’t.”

“Then, stop acting like you have to do more,” Sakura soothed, her tone remaining gentle and steady instead of accusatory. “You’re only human. You aren’t screwing everything up, but it’s normal to think that from time to time. How often do you feel that way?”

Shrugging, Tenzo raked his hands through his hair. “Can we please not? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Sakura ignored Tenzo’s plea. “If you’d taken all of it, the medicine likely would have slowed your breathing until it stopped. There’s no coming back from that.”

Tenzo refused to meet Sakura’s gaze, wondering how she knew that he’d considered downing all the medicine with half a bottle of whiskey. Before he got an answer, she continued. “But, you knew that didn’t you? That’s why you’re taking more risks on missions lately.”

Tenzo started to argue that he wasn’t taking more risks, that he’d only ever done his job, but the lie tasted sour in his mouth. Over the past six months, the amount of injuries that he’d sustained had doubled if not tripled. There were dozens of reasons beyond disregard for his safety, but he knew what it looked like. Missions were more complicated and intricate now, requiring a different skill set than they had in the past.

Unbidden, the memory of fear in Saiyo’s eyes floated through Tenzo’s memory. He’d pushed them too hard on the last mission, then ordered her to leave him behind. If not for the woman’s general disregard for rules, he would have been dead weeks ago. Some small part of Tenzo wondered if she’d done him a favor, but he quashed the thought before Sakura could read it.

“The risks I take are necessary,” Tenzo answered with another shrug. “I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Maybe not,” Sakura’s voice dropped to a softer tone. Tenzo caught the movement in his peripheral vision when the woman raised her head, but he didn’t meet her eye. Sickness settled in the pit of his stomach as she continued, “but, are you trying to stop it?”

Even though Tenzo had prepared himself, the question hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He’d tried not to think of his most recent mission, or the order that he’d given for Saiyo to leave him behind. Tenzo had been injured and bleeding out, exhausted as only soldier pills could leave him, and—and, had he cared? He remembered slumping against a tree, fingers slick with blood as he fumbled at the wound in his stomach. Saiyo had completed the task and bolstered his strength with a second soldier pill, carrying him away from the enemy. But, had he cared?

Tenzo recalled the struggle to put one foot in front of another, even under the influence of the stimulants. He remembered the sharp agony of every step as his body surrendered to the pain. Darkness reared in front of him with a gaping maw like death, and Tenzo hadn’t been afraid. He hadn’t felt sorrow or remorse, only a sense of peace that the struggle would finally be over. Then, he’d woken up in the hospital, and the rest was history. Are you trying to stop it?

Nausea swirled through Tenzo’s stomach, pulling him back to the real world. Sakura reached through the space between them with a glowing green hand. If healing chakra coursed through his body, Tenzo only noticed it by the fading taste of bile in his throat. Shame swallowed everything else as he dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Neither do I,” Sakura admitted, fingers falling to rest on Tenzo’s thigh in what he assumed was meant to be a comforting gesture. When he raised his eyes to lock on hers, the woman flashed a far too confident smile. “But, we can figure it out as soon as we get you through the second round of detox.”

Humming something sounded almost like agreement, Tenzo looked away. Sakura seemed to sense that he needed space, so she pulled back and crossed the room. Without speaking, she lifted a bag from the closet and started adding items until the sides bulged. Tenzo’s brow raised at the spectacle. “What are you doing?”

“Packing,” Sakura answered, as if it was obvious. “You reset your body’s detox timer by drinking again, so the tremors, headache, nausea, and fever will be back with a vengeance. And, I think you’d be more comfortable at your apartment.”

“So, you’re moving in?” A trace of amusement worked its way into Tenzo’s voice as he placed his feet on the floor and started to stand. The room spun, colors blurring in a sickening display that dropped him back to the mattress with a groan.

Sakura glanced over her shoulder in the middle of moving something decidedly feminine to her bag. “Just to see you through the worst of it, and to make sure you don’t try drinking again.” She paused and turned to face Tenzo, holding the bag against her chest. “Or, we can do something inpatient at the hospital. Your records are sealed to pretty much everyone, so it wouldn’t seem that unusual if you’d rather go that route.”

“They aren’t sealed to Kakashi,” Tenzo pointed out, standing up much slower the second time. The room wavered, but remained steady enough for him to take one step, then another. Moving felt like a victory, albeit a small one.

Nodding, Sakura resumed her packing as if that settled the issue. “You know, at some point you’re going to have to tell him about all of this.”

“Maybe,” Tenzo agreed. He stretched one hand out to touch the wall and walked toward the bathroom on wobbly legs. “But, it doesn’t have to be today.”

——————————————————–

True to Sakura’s predictions, the first twenty four hours of Tenzo’s detox were hell. His body had only just gotten through the first bout when he drank again, so he had to relive every moment of it. They made it back to his apartment, arriving separately to keep from drawing any suspicion, before the worst of the symptoms left him trembling on the floor. Sakura’s healing could only push the pain away so much, especially when his chakra destabilized.

As much as Tenzo wanted to be proud and fight the addiction on his own, he took the pills when Sakura pressed them on him a second time. She explained that the medicine would more or less mimic the effect of alcohol in Tenzo’s brain to make the withdrawal more bearable. They’d start with a high dose, then decrease over time, until they could wean him off entirely. Sakura spoke in medical terminology that made Tenzo’s head spin, but the pill washed the pain away, and that was good enough for him.

In addition to more manageable symptoms, the medication made Tenzo drowsy. He spent a large chunk of the first day in a fog of half awareness. Whenever he woke, Sakura was beside the bed or in the room to make sure that he didn’t need anything. She brought him water when he was thirsty and helped him to the bathroom when he was sick. The attention left him thankful, but embarrassed. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kakashi had been this way the last time Tenzo had been stupid enough to fall into this hole, then he decided he’d rather not know.

While the medication helped, it didn’t make the detox easy. Periodically, anxiety and nightmares pushed through the haze of Tenzo’s unconsciousness. Memories and faces swirled through the darkness too quickly for him to capture, but heart stopping emotions followed them. Tenzo woke screaming more times than he could count as some specter of his past came back to haunt him. Or rarely, sobbing at the memory of someone dying in his arms. He struggled to distinguish between reality and imagination.

Sakura never asked what Tenzo saw in his nightmares; she reassured him that he was safe and nothing could hurt him now. The woman seemed to have a sixth sense whenever they were happening. More often than not, Sakura’s face was the first thing that Tenzo saw when he resurfaced from the darkness. She would lock eyes with him, holding the intensity of his gaze long enough to see if he needed anything. Once his breathing returned to normal, she would settle back down to whatever she’d been doing before it happened.

By the second day, lying in bed had started to drive Tenzo crazy. Walking around the apartment helped remove the ache from his legs and back. A body used to constant work and training didn’t do well with physical confinement. His muscles ached for the release of tension, but he struggled to manage a weak shuffle. Sakura pinched her lips together whenever Tenzo insisted on pacing circuits around his apartment, but she never stopped him.

For the most part, Sakura spent her time scribbling in a notebook or reading. Tenzo assumed the writing was in his medical file, but the book surprised him. He hadn’t taken her for a reader. When Tenzo’s legs grew rubbery from exertion, he dropped on the opposite side of the couch from Sakura. He tipped his head to the side to catch a peek at the title of the book, then he did a double take. “Heart’s Destiny,” he scoffed. “You’re as bad as senpai.”

Confusion flitted across Sakura’s face, then her lips pulled into a frown. “This is nothing like Kakashi’s books,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “First of all, it doesn’t have contrived plots that only exist to give the cheap porn some filler. This one has characterization and depth; it’s more than just 'hey that girl is hot’. Secondly, it has quality writing. Thirdly—”

Tenzo laughed, managing a genuine smile through pounding pressure in his temples. “You’ve clearly given this a lot of thought.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think.” Sakura snapped the book shut. The soft dusting of pink across her cheeks almost matched the shade of her hair. “And, I had a look at your bookshelves while you were sleeping. The dusty, old tome on the early architecture of Konoha didn’t exactly sound riveting, so I had to find my own entertainment.”

“It’s a fascinating study on Hashirama’s influences when he developed Konohagakure, and the impact that Madara and the Uchiha had on it. Of course, it also has sections on each of the clans who were present at the founding, and,” Tenzo paused, frowning at Sakura’s mocking yawn. He snorted out a laugh, then winced at the spike of pain it sent through his skull. When the throbbing eased, Tenzo managed a tentative scoff. “Like your cheap romance novel is so much better?”

Sakura placed the book on the cushion between herself and Tenzo, then shifted to face him. “It is. Okay, so, Haruhi, the main character, is promised to marry a rich lord’s son, heir to the family estates and fortunes. Now, most girls would be happy about that, but she can’t stop thinking about the samurai who rescued her years earlier.”

“Haruhi goes on to marry Dikimi, of course. But, a few months later, a rival lord threatens her life, so he’s forced to hire guards to protect her while he’s away on business. Ariyo, the formerly unnamed samurai, is one of them.” Sakura used her hands to gesture as if trying to draw Tenzo into the story. “By the time he and Haruhi meet again, she’s falling in love with her husband. She’s torn between the two, but only one can be her soulmate, so she—”

“Please tell me you don’t believe that nonsense,” Tenzo interrupted, recognizing the sour taste of bile in the back of his throat. “Someone as logical as you can’t possibly believe that each person is fated to fall in love with one specific person, and everyone else is just the next best thing. Right?”

Sakura’s eyes cut to the side with a guilty, embarrassed expression. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? That every person has someone out there who can make them whole?”

Tenzo choked out a laugh and thought of all the shinobi that he’d seen die for their village in the prime of their lives. Did that mean that they didn’t have a soul mate, or that their other half would never find happiness? He balked at the idea that fate would be that cruel. Sakura stared at him with guarded eyes, wanting to believe in a fairy tale that Tenzo knew to be false. He sighed and tried to explain himself better. “I believe that there are people you are compatible with, and people you aren’t. A soulmate seems like a stretch to me.”

“Ah, you’re such a romantic,” Sakura teased, though Tenzo could tell she didn’t agree with his conclusion. She wasn’t ready to argue about it, though, so she changed topics. “I’m guessing there’s no special girl out there for you, then?”

Tenzo almost laughed at the idea of having someone like that in his life. Lasting relationships were rare between shinobi, but they were almost nonexistent between Anbu. There were plenty of flings of course, but there wasn’t anything substantial behind them. Most of those were the adrenaline high that came after a mission, and the relief at being alive to see another day. Soul mates and love didn’t enter into that equation. He’d learned that the hard way.

Sakura read Tenzo’s silence as something else entirely and grinned. “Or, is it a special boy?”

Tenzo rolled his eyes at the amused expression on the woman’s face. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he answered. “It’s neither.”

Grinning, Sakura nodded as if she’d managed to score a point in a game that Tenzo didn’t realize they were playing. “So, you haven’t met your soulmate yet. It doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Thank you for everything. The memory of Chiharu set heavy on Tenzo’s chest, suffocating him. Just the slightest surrender of his self control and he’d be able to feel the heat of her blood seeping into his armor or hear the death rattle in her throat. He pushed the memory away with an iron fist, smiling instead. “I guess not.”

A violent shiver raced through Tenzo’s body, and he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself. Sakura raised one eyebrow in his direction, and Tenzo was surprised to recognize the curiosity in her expression. She reached toward him, then stopped herself. “Are you feeling bad again? It isn’t time for another dose for a couple of hours, still.”

“Just chilled,” Tenzo lied, nestling deeper into the warm fleece of the blanket. His physical reaction was undoubtedly due to the topic at hand, but the withdrawal was a convenient excuse. Tucking his legs under him, Tenzo rested one elbow on the back of the couch and tipped his head at Sakura. “What about you? Do you have a special someone?”

Sakura caught her lower lip between her teeth, an unconscious tell that Tenzo had picked up on during her chunin days. She was unsure of herself, or maybe unsure how to respond to the question. Tenzo didn’t press; he understood the need for privacy. Tenzo wasn’t ready to talk to Sakura about Chiharu. He never talked about the woman to anyone, not even Kakashi.

Laughing without a trace of humor, Sakura shrugged. “I mean, from the time we were kids, I always imagined that Sasuke was my soulmate. I thought that we were meant to be together against all odds and barriers.”

I didn’t ask for this crusade of yours. That might be what Sasuke got off on, Tenzo’s earlier words replayed through his mind with brilliant clarity. He’d almost forgotten the way he’d talked to Sakura before drinking himself into a stupor. Tenzo knew that his careless words had hurt the woman, and he had the uncomfortable realization that he was about to find out how much. Unable to stop himself, Tenzo prompted, “but?”

Sadness touched Sakura’s smile, turning it melancholy. “You were right, you know? I always thought that I could fix whatever was broken in Sasuke. I thought that I would be good enough for him because we were soulmates, and everything would work out in the end.”

Tenzo rubbed the back of his neck, guilt squeezing his lungs like iron bands. His words had been calculated to hurt, and they had hit their mark. The expression on Sakura’s face made it clear that Sasuke was still a painful subject. “I was being an angry ass when I said that. Just because it isn’t good right now doesn’t mean it never will be. Some things take time.”

“It’s been five years,” Sakura laughed, shaking her head with an obvious sniffle. Even so, the tears didn’t reach her eyes. She put on a brave smile. “Who knows, maybe you’re right. Maybe it has nothing to do with fate; it’s about finding someone you are compatible with at just the right time.”

“Or, I’m wrong about everything, and you haven’t met your soulmate yet,” Tenzo countered, trying to soothe some of the hurt that his words had caused. He hadn’t meant to push Sakura away from the idea that soulmates existed, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

Sakura offered a fragile smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

——————————————————–

Tenzo’s days blended into a collection of fitful sleep and hurried trips to the bathroom. As the week drew to a close, he began to feel like a fraction of his former self. The shuffling around the apartment turned into proper steps, and Tenzo no longer needed to brace himself against the wall at regular intervals. Though his body felt weak and his mind fretted about what the future held, he did feel, and that was something.

After waking up from a midafternoon nap on the fifth day, Tenzo walked out of his bedroom and frowned when he didn’t find Sakura in her normal position on the couch. The vacant space at the table only added to his confusion. He turned back toward the bedroom to see if he’d missed her somehow when a flash of pink caught his eye. Sakura stood in the corner of the room, balancing on one leg. The other was tucked against her thigh, and her arms were stretched over her head.

Tenzo’s brow furrowed at the stance; it wasn’t one of the kata they learned as shinobi. “What are you doing?”

“Stretching,” Sakura answered, voice calm as she brought her raised leg to the front, then lowered it to the ground. Bending her knees slightly, Sakura took an exaggerated inhale, then swooped forward with the exhale. Catching the back of her ankles, she pulled her upper body flush against her thighs and legs. On the next breath, she released the hold and returned to an upright position.

Tenzo crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “No, that’s not stretching. That’s something else entirely.”

The expressionless mask on Sakura’s face crumbled with laughter. “True, but it amounts to the same thing. Yoga trains balance and flexibility, while also relieving soreness. I started practicing it in Kumo.”

A flash of color appeared on Sakura’s pale cheeks at the mention of the distant land. Tenzo wondered who or what brought that wistful expression to her face, but was almost afraid to ask. He’d put his foot in his mouth enough with the soul mates debacle the other night. If yoga made her think of someone from her past, Sakura didn’t share it. Instead, she nodded toward the space beside her. “You should join me. It’s calming.”

“I don’t know,” Tenzo answered, considering the strange angles that Sakura had twisted herself into. “I’m more of a 'let’s go for a run’ type of guy.”

“Except, you’re too miserable to do that,” Sakura pointed out, lifting her foot toward her backside to stretch the muscles in the front of her thigh. “Come on, I know you have to be sore from not getting around enough. This will warm up your body without overdoing it.”

Tenzo felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth from the way Sakura presented her reasoning. “Are those doctor’s orders,” he asked.

“Yup,” Sakura nodded, lowering her foot back to the ground while eyeing Tenzo with mock ferocity. “Don’t make me leave a noncompliance note in your permanent file.”

When Tenzo padded toward the other side of the room, Sakura flashed a grin. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing shoes; how hard could it really be? Sakura pointed across from her, and Tenzo took position there. Nodding, she brought her heels close to each other and pressed her palms together in the center of her chest. “Yoga is all about controlling the movement and your breath, syncing the two. But, if you start to feel lightheaded, stop. You passing out is the last thing we need.”

“Fair enough,” Tenzo chuckled. He copied Sakura’s position from a few feet away watching her with a sense of apprehension he couldn’t explain. The woman drew another deep breath and swept her arms overhead with a soft arch in her back. Her palms met above her head and came down the center of her body when she exhaled. Tenzo frowned for a moment, then did his best to mimic the movement.

“Good,” Sakura encouraged. She made the movement look like a natural flow of her breath while Tenzo struggled to remember to keep a steady rhythm. “On the next exhale, we’re going to take our hands all the way to the floor.”

Tenzo followed, flattening his back the way that Sakura did on her next inhale and deepening the stretch on the exhale. For the next fifteen minutes, she led him through a course of bends and stretches that he’d never imagined. When Sakura finally sat down, a soft ache burned through Tenzo’s muscles. The gentle pain surprised him; the exercises had looked deceptively easy.

Crossing her legs, Sakura got more comfortable on the floor. “That was really good, but it’s probably enough for now. How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Tenzo answered, joining the woman cross legged in the patch of sunlight coming through one curtain. He wondered when she’d opened the heavy shades to allow light back into the room. Then, a second realization stole over him: he hadn’t felt on the edge of a panic attack since they started. “Calmer,” he added with a bit of wonder in his voice.

Sakura smirked and tipped her head. “I told you. Now, sit up straight and we’ll do a breathing exercise. This is another great way to calm down when the world feels overwhelming.”

As Tenzo complied with the order, he wondered if Sakura ever felt overwhelmed or out of control. When she’d been younger, she’d been more worried and insecure about everything it seemed. Now, she had no problem taking the lead on his recovery or teaching him new skills like a wayward pupil. Sakura was confident and in control of the situation from beginning to end. He supposed that becoming an authority figure at the hospital had pushed her even further from the girl he knew years before. It wasn’t a bad change.

Tenzo straightened his back and rested his forearms on his knees. “Like this?”

“Yes. Now, I want you to focus on the way your body connects to the floor. Feel the support beneath you.” Tenzo frowned when Sakura interrupted her instructions with a tsking sound. “And, close your eyes.”

Tenzo wondered if Sakura appreciated the level of trust that it required to lower his guard so completely around her. It wasn’t much different than the past week, he supposed. But, this was a conscious effort to make himself vulnerable, rather than his body being too weak to fight it. Exhaling, Tenzo obeyed.

Sakura’s voice drifted out of the darkness. “Okay, inhale, two, three, four. Now, hold, two, three, four. Exhale, two, three, four. And, hold, two, three, four. Just like that. Inhale.”

The controlled pattern felt awkward, and a bit frightening when the need for air started to burn Tenzo’s lungs, but Sakura coached him through each breath cycle. The four beat count of each movement started to feel natural, and Sakura’s voice took on an ethereal tone that Tenzo found calming and reassuring. He felt safe in a way that he hadn’t in a long time, like he could both lose and find himself in the breath somehow.

“Okay,” Sakura murmured, words softer than a whisper. “Release control of your breath. You can go back to normal breathing. Wiggle your fingers and toes to help bring focus back to your body.”

For several heartbeats, Tenzo remained in the calm, still place that had opened inside of him. He marveled at the way that everything he’d been trying to avoid over the past few years simply disappeared with the intense focus on his breath. Sensations returned slowly: the gentle sound of Sakura’s breathing, the quiet ticking of the refrigerator, the warmth of sunlight on his eyelids, then the solid wood of the floor beneath him.

Tenzo opened his eyes to find Sakura gazing at him with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Are you good?”

“I, uh,” Tenzo tried to think of a way to complete the sentence, but he wasn’t sure how to put words to everything he was thinking. He offered a shrug, instead. “That was different.”

“Different good, or different bad?” Sakura rose in one smooth motion then reached down to offer a hand to Tenzo. “I find it really helpful to practice a few minutes of box breathing when I’m overwhelmed and stressed with work. That’s its technical name, by the way.”

Tenzo took Sakura’s hand and stood. The room spun with a sharp flash of agony in the back of his head. He blinked through the initial shock, focusing on anything but the return of the physical pain. Sakura touched his shoulder, then guided him toward the couch. “You probably overdid it,” she chided, as if she hadn’t been the one to encourage exercise in the first place. “You rest here, and I’ll make something to eat. You should be able to keep it—”

Four rapid taps slapped against the apartment door, interrupting the rest of Sakura’s words. Fear washed through Tenzo’s body and made his arms and legs feel numb. He knew that signature knock, and he did not want to see the person on the other side, not right now. Sakura frowned and turned toward the sound, but Tenzo caught her wrist. “It’s Saiyo,” he mouthed, careful to keep his voice silent. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

Saiyo had been a trying recruit when she first joined Anbu. She pushed Tenzo, mocked him, and questioned his authority. Something had shifted on their first mission together. Saiyo began to look at Tenzo with adoration akin to hero worship, and it had made him uncomfortable at first. Her respect had felt like more than him being her team captain and the head of Anbu; Saiyo had become playful and curious. The woman’s intensity was off putting and endearing at the same time, normally.

Their last mission together had been a disaster that left Saiyo in a free fall, though Tenzo tried to reach out when he was released from the hospital. The night that Sakura found the pair drunk in Tenzo’s apartment had been his way of trying to smooth things over with her. You took a risk that almost killed you, the woman’s words came back, sharp and bitter. Tenzo had disappointed Saiyo enough, lately. He couldn’t stand for her to see the weakness in him right now.

“There’s nothing for her to see; you look fine. Besides, can’t we just ignore it,” Sakura asked in a stage whisper by Tenzo’s ear. “I mean—”

“You aren’t at the barracks, and you aren’t out of the village on a mission, so I know you’re in there,” Saiyo shouted, voice loud enough to be heard deeper in the apartment. “If you don’t answer this door, I’m coming in anyway. So, unless you want me to break the lock… .”

Panic washed away the calm that yoga and box breathing had created, clutching at Tenzo’s chest with bruising fingers. He looked up at Sakura with pleading eyes, and she shook her head. “There is no way this ends well,” she murmured under her breath, running a hand through her disheveled locks. “My presence is just going to make this worse.”

Huffing out a breath, Sakura marched across the apartment and undid the locks on the door one by one. She paused after the last, adjusting the t-shirt that she wore before pulling open the heavy panel.

“About ti—” Saiyo’s voice transformed to a dangerous growl mid-word. Her golden eyes raked up and down Sakura’s body like claws. “What are you doing here? Where’s Yamato?”

Tenzo was impressed that Saiyo kept her wits about her enough to use his code name with someone outside Anbu. The woman had no way of knowing that it was no longer necessary. Sakura shifted to the side, blocking Saiyo’s view of the apartment with her body. The angle from the door to the couch would have made it impossible for Saiyo to see him anyway, but Tenzo appreciated the effort.

“He’s sleeping,” Sakura answered, tone cool and unaffected. She sounded bored by Anbu bristling on the doorstep.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Saiyo pointed out in a similar tone. Tenzo pictured the woman crossing her arms over her chest and drawing herself taller, reaching for every inch of height she had. “Why is he asleep? What did you do to him?”

Sakura chuckled warmly, an implication obvious in the sound. “Nothing that concerns you,” she answered in the syrupy sweet pitch that Tenzo hadn’t heard since she was a girl. “Besides, it’s time for you to stop acting like you have some kind of claim on him just because you’re on the same team. He’s allowed to have other friends.”

Tenzo dropped his head into his hands, waiting for the door to rip free of its hinges. It never came. Saiyo seemed incapable of responding, which worried Tenzo more than an explosion would have. The woman had a quip for everything, but no words came after Sakura’s statement. He wished he could see Saiyo’s face, if only to know if he needed to jump in front of Sakura to take a blow.

Dipping her head in a tight nod, Sakura leaned against the door frame. “Good girl, don’t cause a scene. When Yamato wakes up, I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

Saiyo hissed between her teeth, a threatening sound if Tenzo had ever heard one. “Don’t you think that fucking your patients violates your code of conduct, Haruno-sensei?”

To Tenzo’s horror, Sakura laughed. “Who are you going to report me to? Myself?”

Sakura gathered control over herself again, stifling the laughter with a shake of her head. “Throwing around baseless accusations seeded in your insecurities isn’t a good look.”

“The only thing keeping that pretty little head of yours attached to your whore body is my respect for the commander.” Tenzo knew that Saiyo would have squared herself off with Sakura, fists clenched in preparation for a fight. His only shock came from the fact that she hadn’t started one yet. “Mark my words, you can’t keep me away forever.”

Sakura shook her head, the same unimpressed laughter coloring her words when she answered. “Go home, Saiyo; I’ve got nothing to prove to you. I’ll let him know you stopped by.” Before Saiyo managed a response, Sakura shut the door between them. Exhaling hard, the pinkette leaned her shoulders against the panel and closed her eyes. Sakura’s cheeks were bright red, as she waited to see if Saiyo made good on her threat to tear down the door. To Tenzo’s continued surprise, she didn’t.

Pushing away, Sakura leveled Tenzo with a glare. “Are you sure she knows you aren’t dating?”

Uncomfortable feelings swam through Tenzo’s stomach, and he shrugged. “I mean, we’re friends, but there’s nothing romantic there.”

Sakura shoved away from the wall and walked toward the kitchen. She patted Tenzo’s shoulder on the way. “Sometimes, I swear you’re as naive as she is.”

“Trapped”

A Shintora vent fic

// tw self harm , suicidal thoughts

Trapped - autumn_sky96 - 東京卍リベンジャーズ | Tokyo Revengers (Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

CW: Suicide and suicidal thoughts, if any of that triggers you even a little please don’t read this and take care of yourself <3 

This movie resonated with me HARD, especially because of an experience I had on the internet a few years ago while I was struggling with suicidal thoughts. I didn’t know what to do with my feelings but I wanted to talk to someone so I hopped on a chatroulette-kinda site. I talked to a couple of people who didn’t know what to do but wished me the best, and then I met Yuki (Please lmk, would it be proper or not to use honorifics? I am not Japanese, but Yuki was and I want to honor her, I’d hate it if I was disrespecting her by being too informal). 

Yuki was about my age, and also struggling with suicidal thoughts. I don’t know where she was in Japan, she’d mentioned living abroad and while her English wasn’t flawless, she was definitely fluent. We talked about our lives and the things that made us happy as well as the pain we were going through, how we felt so trapped and just wanted an escape. We both had a yearning to return to happiness we were frustrated with. But unlike me, Yuki had no one in her life to support her, and dismissed her own feelings as dramatic even as she told me that she was planning on ending things. She just wanted a friend to talk to before she went through with her plans…where I was undecided when it came to what to do about my feelings, Yuki decided she wanted to end her own life, and she just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t dismiss that feeling. It’s what I needed, too.

Yuki was sweet, smart, empathetic, non-judgmental, down to earth and so strong to have carried herself so far without support. The world would be worse off without her in it, and I told her that. She thanked me and assured me that she’d already made up her mind. I promised her I would never forget her. We emailed so we could have an actual real-life connection (the site just deleted chat logs when they were over) and Yuki told me she’d almost cried during the hours we talked- I know I had cried quite a bit (easy crier), and I cried even more when she said she was lucky to have known me. She told me she loved me, and I told her I loved her, too. And I realized I didn’t just love Yuki- I loved myself, and I deserved a chance just like she did. I never heard from her again, though, so I don’t know what happened to her. I hope she changed her mind and is safe and surrounded by support somewhere. I know it’s not likely, but that’s what she deserved.

When I hear this movie’s music, I think of Yuki (especially A Million Miles Away). I hope that wherever she is she knows she made a real difference in my life. 

When Suzu says she loves Kei in her song (and he later returns the sentiment when they meet in person) I don’t think it’s romantic. It’s the way I love Yuki, and the way she said she loved me- as a person who was there for me and understood me when no one else in my life did. Someone who reached out to me the way Suzu reached out to Kei. It’s not romance, but it’s still incredibly special. Just because beauty and the beast of this story don’t love each other romantically, that shouldn’t be to the film’s detriment. I actually think it makes it more special.

TW/CW Suicidal ideation

My psychiatrist: What things are you looking forward to that help combat your suicidal thoughts?

Me:

Psych: … Anything else?

Me: Not really. I know some people think it’s silly to care so much about them, but I figure if it keeps me around for one more day, that’s what matters.

Psych: That’s right. And I look forward to new shows, too. I’m glad you have that.

Me:

Having chronic suicidal thoughts is hard. Really hard. And really scary. It’s one thing to get close to hurting yourself once, but some of us have to do it again and again. What if one time our will fails?

Despite it all, there IS a silver lining. I now know I can get through anything. I mean anything. I have survived my brain yelling at me to kill myself time and time again. I made it this far. There’s not a damn thing that can stop me.

I will endure pain, grief, panic, uncertainty as we all do. It’ll suck, as it always does. But I KNOW I’ll come out the other side. Because to me, nothing can be scarier than chronic intrusive suicidal thoughts. Life can’t throw anything at me that my brain hasn’t already tried to destroy me with.

I mean maybe I’m just like really well medicated for mood disorders rn but I am footloose and fancy free and ready to absolutely fuckin savor this life I fought so hard for.