Summary: She was never able to say no to him. SakuraxSasuke. Sequel to Rain.

Follows the main story line up to around chapter 455.

Hello. :3 SakuraPetal here. I've been trying to find the time to write this for months. It's a sequel to Rain. Please R&R, I really do appreciate it.

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Sakura dabbed her eyes with a warm cloth, trying to reduce the unsightly redness that had accumulated after the crying. What Sai had said struck home. Was she really causing Naruto that much pain? It didn't seem sensible, though. It couldn't be only the promise that kept him going; there must have been others that contributed. However, this didn't wipe her slate clean, or excuse her actions. Naruto could never know. But it was impossible for her to mask her latest fumble. Or, it would be in a few months.

The pink haired girl lowered the towel from her eyes. Red did not suit them. It made the green look muddy and unsightly. Her skin was too pale, her cheeks gaunt. The pleasantless and innocence in her face had left. Her hair was matted, uncombed. These things, with the exception of the puffiness of her eyes, were not results of the crying. They were what she had become, what this war had molded her into. The red eyes narrowed, and Sakura's reflection stared back at her from the mirror. She was standing with her hands on the two sides of the sink, supporting herself. Then, the nausea came.

Making a choking, sputtering noise, the medic leaned over the porcelain toilet, emptying her stomach of breakfast. Her hand groped for the flusher as she finished, and hoisted herself up to the sink again. She stared, wiping the side of her mouth with her arm.

Her hands tightened so hard that it hurt, and out of nowhere she shrieked. And then the mirror was shattered and her hand was bleeding, two fingers misplaced. Sakura hadn't even bothered to fully close her hand. "GODDAMMIT!" she screamed, breaking down into sobs again, and sliding down to the icy cold floor.

---Flashback

The slight girl stood in the same spot as before, or rather, kneeled in the midst of the trees. Her wet hair clung to her face, her knees were caked with mud. Hands were gripping the grass and all she could do was stare. It was pouring, thundering, as it had been only a few days ago when she had been here last.

How much things could change in only a few days.

Last time, Sakura had been mourning. She thought so many dead, done for. Gone. Naruto was in the midst of his battle of reckoning, she had been unsure whether he would succeed. And then, Kakashi-sensei was back. Hinata was revived. The citizens, her parents, they had sprung back to life with their city. Now she was relieved. Empty, tired, and worn--but relieved. There were no tears this time. Only being.

And then Sakura heard the familiar crunching of leaves, the steps. Nonchalantly, she scratched the side of her head, bit back a yawn. Surprised she was, of course, but too exhausted to express it. Of course he would be in the area again. Perhaps this would be the last time that she would see him alive.

"Hello, Sasuke-kun," she said, not bothering to turn around. Sakura laced a handful of grass that she had uprooted in her fingers. They were dirty, too. After a moment's silence, she looked over her shoulder, spotting the dark figure that was standing only a few feet away. Sakura turned her torso completely. Her eyes found the kunai strapped to his side, the one that was chipped at the edge. The one that her clumsy hands had held at their last meeting. The one that had landed on the forest floor.

After another moment's silence, Sakura stood. Her arms were crossed over her chest from the cold. Perhaps a bit of self conciousness was rooted behind the gesture. Finally, she heard a voice through the pounding rain. One that she hardly recognized anymore.

"Hello, Sakura," he began, pausing momentarily, "I see you are enjoying the rain again."

She nodded simply, now twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "Yes." There was silence again, before she looked him in the face. "This time, Sasuke-kun, are you going to kill me?" she asked, casually so. As she did last time.

Sasuke shook his head. "No," he paused to finger the kunai at his side, "And I think we have established that you will not, cannot, try to harm me, Sakura."

The girl smiled a hard smile, shaking her head as he had. "No. I can't. But why are you here again? They are looking for you, you know. It's not safe."

"I am here because I have a favor to ask of you." Sakura's heart sunk. What was he going to ask? Was that why he had been so determined for an answer last time; because he wanted to assure himself that she was unable to say no to him?

"Itachi is dead. But yet, my revenge is not complete. I have committed a grave error." Sakura looked at him blankly. He continued. "But... my second desire."

At these words, the pink haired girl's breath hitched in her throat. "Yes, I remember," she said, her throat unnaturally dry. The raindrops numbed her skin, pelting it. The steady thrumming remained just so, pounding the soft ground at her feet. It still felt like ice.

"I trust you. I believe that you can, and will, help me fufill this goal."

Sakura wanted to scream. Her voice was more hoarse now. She didn't look at him. She looked through him. She desperately wanted her tone to be angry. She wanted to yell. But it only came out as a pathetic whisper. Her heart thrummed. It was already a lost cause. "Do you know what you are asking me?" she managed to spit out. "Why?" she demanded, her eyes glazing over. Sasuke sighed. He seemed as if he might rub his temples. "There is no other woman that I trust with my child. It is that simple. You will not harm me. You will not betray me. And, unless possessed by a sudden lapse of your character, you shall not perish."

"I am fifteen, Sasuke. Fifteen and a kunoichi in the midst of war!" Finally, she had found her voice. It was, however, still cracked. Sasuke looked at her blankly. "You are a medic and perfectly capable of staying out of the fighting. You have said many things, one of them being that you will do anything for me. And I know you will."

Sakura would have glared at him if she could. How dare he. But he was right. He was right and she knew it.

"I ask only this of you, and nothing more. I would prefer no other to carry this out. However, you and I know that revealing the child's true father would not be an intelligent propsition, as it would doom all of us. It may bear your name until it turns eighteen."

Sakura looked down, ashamed. Because she knew that it would not even require persistence. She could not refuse him. It would not harm anyone, it would not result in death or misery. "Why me?" she insisted, though to her disgust she was secretly flattered.

Sasuke took a step closer then, and, quite unexpectedly, touched her cheek. "I will not lie to you, Sakura. I do not love you. However, I hold a certain affinity for you. Perhaps an underlying fondness that was left unsevered, if that is possible. You are physically well, young. You will be able to raise a child. And, in a way that Karen could not, keep it and yourself out of harm's way." His hand dropped, the brief warmth vanished from Sakura's face. "I understand," she murmured.

"Sakura. What is your answer?"

"You know," she whispered, clutching her arms. Sasuke stepped closer, looking down at her.

"Say it," he demanded, albeit gently.

For the first time in three years, her eyes fully met his. "Yes."

Later, when Sakura looked back, it would surprise her, his gentleness with her. Almost as if she mattered. Perhaps there was guilt there, oriented from what he was robbing her of at fifteen. He had dipped his head down then, and Sakura felt warmth on her mouth. The rain mingled with their lips. There was no affection there, from Sasuke. But Sakura tried hard, she really did, to pretend that there was. And perhaps, for a brief moment, she believed it. After all, Sakura had become very, very skilled at lying to herself. So when her hands gripped his hair, she didn't think about what she was doing, or the intended purpose.

Everything after that was a mess. A lovely mess, though she would never admit it. There was leaves in her hair and rain on her skin and mud in her fingers when they gripped the ground. A jumble of gasps when he kissed her neck. The brief blurs of pain. His hot breath on her neck afterwards, when he whispered, "I will contact you in a month, Sakura."

Just like that, he was gone with the rain, leaving a fleeting, misty indifference in its wake.

---

Sakura crawled to her bed after she broke the mirror, bringing her knees up to her chest as she did when she was a child. She didn't bother to heal her hand.