A Survivor's Guide to the Apocalypse

Disclaimer: I own not Naruto, its characters or its Universe. I definitely don't make any money off of them either.

Extended Summary: Sakura is roughly 14 years of age, making Kisame 29. Now, I don't know about you, but pedophilia is not something that I associate with the word "love", so when I say that this is a love story, I mean it's a post-apocalyptic survival, love story. Aka, the non sexual variety. Sakura is still a kid in many ways so this is a bit of a coming of age tale too because anybody would grow up pretty fast under circumstances such as these.

Chapter 1

A morning was rare when noise did not permeate the Akatsuki's base of operations in resonating shouts or indistinct crashes, usually from the kitchen. Arguing was a time honored ritual in a household full of S-class missing-nin, and only one woman, especially on days when Stitches had to cook breakfast. To the more water dense and alcoholically tolerant member's knowledge, both Kakuzu and his partner in crime were sleeping off roaring hangovers.

This quiet luxury Kisame Hoshigaki had every intention of savoring as he emerged from his room, stiff and revitalized. His strange biology did have its advantages some days. It was too bad that his skin prickled with unease as he ambled down the hall in search of his curiously absent partner, because it was ruining the mood.

He did take his merry time getting to where he was going. If Itachi wasn't in a hurry then neither was he, but it was strange.

When he reached his destination the door was already open in invitation. This wasn't the first time the blue skinned, shark toothed man had breached the boundaries of his partner's personal quarters and found him still in bed at the tail end of morning. The black haired man's unblinking eyes stared with fierce intensity at the ceiling, hands clasped over his chest. He was still in his robes, stretched out over his neatly made bed.

He probably hadn't slept at all, judging by the look of things, but that was normal. Years of experience in dealing with the taciturn man did, however, have Kisame quickly steeling himself for an inevitable change in plans. Much to Leader's future chagrin most likely. But few questioned the Uchiha when he made an executive decision. It was just something that he did.

"What's got you this time…" Kisame quipped as he leaned heavily against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

Here the silence was anything but comforting. After a few terse seconds Itachi blinked and the glazed expression evaporated as he swung his legs around to stand. His face was a blank sheet as he faced the other man, but the intensity of his eyes was sobering.

"Something is coming." He said and swept past, disappearing out into the hall.

Kisame hop stepped from the doorway to catch up, arms unfurling at his sides, "Whisker-face? The Kayuubi container? My luck isn't that-"

"No." The word dropped like a lead weight, sucking the air from the narrow passage of stone.

The shark-man's shoulders visibly stiffened. "So what is it?"

Itachi came to a stop at the end of the hall where it opened into the commons, eyes falling briefly on its lone inhabitant. From the couch, Deidara glanced up distractedly and squinted at them through tired, bloodshot eyes. His magazine fell into his lap and he glared.

"What are you guys doin' here, un?" He snipped and sank further into the cushions, averting his attention back to Kunoichi Monthly. "Weren't you supposed to be gone like three hours ago?"

Kisame grinned wolfishly as he stepped into the room with a quick glance around - Hidan and Kakuzu had yet to make an appearance still. "Burning the midnight oil again?"

"Tch, like you're one to talk Shark Face." The bags under the blonde's eyes intensified with his sneer. "Man, get lost if you're gonna be so noisy."

Shark Face snorted and followed after his partner who had long since gone up the stairs to the first level. Whatever it was eating him, he was going to find out. It might just end up eating him too if he wasn't careful.

Upstairs Itachi was nowhere to be seen, but the front door was ajar and light spilled out onto the bamboo floor from outside. Ksiame turned into the open courtyard through the doorway, squinting against the sudden brightness. The air was ripe with the scent of sakura blossoms and lilacs in summer bloom - Kisame's sighed happily, present circumstances temporarily forgotten.

And there was Itachi standing like a stone at the center of the dusty path which lead through two large gates out of the compound and into thick woods beyond. He was looking up at the sky, one hand poised to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun that whitewashed his face. There was the smallest hint of a frown a the corner of his mouth.

"We are in trouble." The timber of his voice was wary.

Kisame's brow rippled in acute apprehension.

It might as well have been a declaration of the apocalypse, coming from the likes of Itachi. Words failed the blue skinned missing nin as he followed his partner's unrelenting stare at the empty sky. It looked like any other day to him, but something wasn't right.

"I take it we're changing plans?" He supposed. An unbidden shiver traveled down his spine and he glanced around, hands twitching at his sides. Without his sword he felt naked, vulnerable - it occurred to him that perhaps he'd become too attached to it.

A hush squatted in the courtyard and left a tangible tremor in the air that settled deep in his bones. Kisame had never felt anything like it. His skin prickled with a sudden urge to flee that stark, open space; to run, hide, swim deep and never look back.

The sensation was, in a word, disturbing .

Itachi turned his head at him with sharp appraisal. "We must leave now."

Kisame felt like his stomach had dropped out of his body, though perhaps not as painful as the literal sense - it was just very cold and empty down there. He shut his mouth with a snap before an ill advised 'Huh?' slipped out; Nothing Itachi said needed saying twice. Although if the man did have a sense of humor it was probably weird enough to find confounding his partner with ominous declarations of grandeur to be the height of amusement.

"Right." Kisame confirmed, stifling the nervous titter that threatened his voice. "Uh, where?"

"Underground."

He bit down on a groan. No need to advertise his disapproval - it just got him in trouble.

The Underground was a back-up base in the event that things took a turn for the worst, which, in Kisame's educated guess, they were about to. It was not simply a jaunt from their present location though, and it certainly didn't inspire optimism because why the hell did it have to be there that they went?

Kisame was not fond of underground. It was too dry, confining.

Before another thought could upset his already disgruntled mood, Itachi launched into the trees. Kisame followed with a longing look behind him, because goddamit his sword! But there was no time and the air seem to cling to his throat with a portent of doom, heavy and dry.

So he moved like hell itself was dogging his heels and never looked back.

Dust clouds settled over the empty spaces where two missing nin had stood only seconds ago, and a head of blonde hair peeked out of the doorway. He glanced around, eyes squinting painfully against the bright light in the sky, and grunted, "Wonder what the hell that was about, un…"

He disappeared back inside where it was blissfully dark. Hidan, Sasori and Kakuzu, the lazy asses, were probably still in bed after last night's binge. He could think of nothing more gladdening than to have them share in his misery.

Kisame was a second behind his partner as they scaled the trees, moving at speeds that defied nature and promised pain if he should miss a step. The great boughs groaned and whined underfoot , the branches straining under an invisible weight. His heaving chest from the effort of keeping up with Itachi for two grueling hours played percussion to the forest's miserable sonnet.

The entrance to the Underground, nothing but an indistinct wall of granite at the base of a rugged, tall standing mountain, materialized through the foliage a short while later, much to Kisame's relief. He shifted into high gear, drawing on all his reserves and stamina to spur him those last 100 yards.

Everything came to a shuddering halt in the span of two scorching hot milliseconds.

He felt it as a pulse that thrummed through his body and almost knocked him off his feet. The sound came after - a concussive boom that shook and shattered the air, so far away that it was scarcely more than a whisper. It grew exponentially into a rumbling tidal wave of noise that swallowed everything in its path.

The ground rippled and heaved, the trees wailing as their roots were bent and broken from the earth. Kisame felt each individual hair on his body stand on end and lunged for the entrance to the bunker with newfound desperation. He didn't know what the hell it was, but he was not waiting around to find out.

Itachi got there first, executing the hand seal to release the door. Then he was gone into the darkness, and Kisame dived blindly after him. The shockwave that pounded into the mountain at his heels threw him full force into his partner's back and they both went tumbling down the passage stairs in a tangle of robes and bruised limbs.

Fucking stone stairs.

The shark man felt the gush of hot hair against the back of his neck just as the door closed behind them with a musty groan. The mountain itself jerked, as if struck by Kami. Kisame, who had just finished untangling himself from Itachi, went down in a heap, the ground literally yanked out from under him. He heard a grunt from his partner - the only evidence that the man felt anything at all.

Go figure.

A horrible, teeth rattling vibration coursed through the mountain and it felt like his brain was being bounced off the inside of his skull like a ping pong ball. The stone roared in his ears as he tried to stand, tripping on an indistinct object and barking out a curse as he struck his elbow against the wall. He gritted his teeth at the warmth that trickled down his forearm and steadied himself with a hiss of air between his teeth.

Shit.

Itachi set off ahead wordlessly and he followed, hands braced against the walls in the darkness. The brisk pace launched him in a haphazard jog down the passage, which didn't allow for tiny obstructions such as rocks that couldn't be seen in the dark, and invariably sent him tripping into another wall with another string of vicious cursing.

Fuck Itachi and his bloody fucking sharingan - he was going to beat the shit out of a mattress if he ever got out of this alive - Hidan would be better.

The trembling did not cease. It had gone on so long that Kisame had given up on it ever stopping. If the mountain didn't cave in on their heads he would be stunned - he might just become a priest or some shit. And his gut…oh his gut was twisting something fierce. When he tried to recall the last time he'd felt something so paralyzing and debilitating , for the life of him he couldn't remember. He was about ready to throw in his cards right then.

But he couldn't even do that. Not that he would, given the opportunity. Too many ninjas left to slay, blood to be spilled - what would they do without him?

It felt like an hour had gone by when the shaking finally started to abate. The air began to settle and the roar was now a distant hum. Kisame had no idea where the hell they were, but Itachi had stopped them in what was, presumably, a room of some kind, where they'd both taken a seat on the floor to wait out the remainder of the storm.

Then all was still and quiet. The only sound that filled the musty confines of the underground base was the steady breathing of its two inhabitants, a faint rustling here or there, and the scrape of sandaled feet shifting across the floor as Kisame drew his legs up to rest his arms across his knees. It was like the world had gone dead.

A heavy sigh permeated the silence.

"What the hell do we do now?" Kisame's voice sounded unnaturally gravely to himself, which he attributed to the vast amounts of dust he'd inhaled over the past 15 minutes. His gills were going to hate him later, possibly make him violently ill.

He felt his partner's eyes shift to settle on him from a few feet away, the sharingan a tickle against his senses. Itachi said nothing at first and Kisame had all but resigned himself to an ongoing silence when a voice pricked his skin.

"We wait."

Kisame resisted the urge to snort - he'd probably just suck up a bunch of crap anyway. Fantastic, I thought I had to die to go to hell.

"Shit."

Itachi gazed out into the hazy afternoon that was almost as dark as most nights, the lines under his eyes more pronounced than usual. His porcelain clear features never faltered, as if the utter devastation that faced them made no difference The guy had to be made of stone.

Kisame felt his insides shrivel.

"I don't suppose we'll be worrying about jinchuriki for a while." He remarked as he leaned idly against the rock face and stared at nothing in particular, because there was nothing to stare at, but barren dirt, uprooted trees and thick plumes of dust that remained suspended above the ground. "A bit anticlimactic after all the work we put in."

"We should check for survivors." Came the reply.

The shark faced man shrugged. Just looking around didn't give one the impression there would be any, but he wasn't one to argue. Although the dust in the air was going to give him asthma at this rate.

Fuck, his sword.

Kisame scowled deeply. "I left my sword at the hideout."

"I was referring to our organic brethren."

One eyebrow lifted higher than the other in a shrewd glance at his dark haired partner because jokes were not his forte and catching them was a challenge. His lips folded into a wide smile, "Well it's sort of organic."

The Uchiha swiveled his head at Kisame with a carefully arched brow that mirrored his own. There was a sense of humor somewhere in that moody head of his.

They made for the other base through the ravaged remains of smoking forest and land, of trees splintered and smoldering on barren earth blown free of vegetation or life. Visibility was crap as a thick haze hung heavy over thing and coated the ground like ash. It didn't go down the throat easy and the shark faced one found himself frequently covering his mouth in his sleeve with baleful looks at his partner's back.

The zombie brothers might still be alive, but Deidara and Tobi…well, he wasn't holding his breath. It was too bad really - Tobi was kind of funny. Pein was fucked, and Konan too, because she would've stayed with Pein.

There were about forty holes in the master plan.

Unsurprising, the base was in smoking rubble when they arrived, the lower levels buried under the collapsed outer building. Obviously there'd been a fire, though not extensive as most of the wood was still fresh. Anyone that might have survived would have to be dug out.

Kisame set his robe aside with a sigh, because heavy lifting always fell in his department and he would have his work cut out for him. Being tall was exploited shamelessly by everyone beneath him, which was everyone in Akatsuki. Well if they were willing to concede that he was twice as manly as they were, so be it.

He was going to reap every bit of what they sewed, and with a cheerful smile on his face.

It caused a moment of pause when Itachi silently appeared at his right and rolled up his sleeves. He spared a glance for his enigmatic partner, arching an inquisitive brow that went unheeded, and shrugged with a casual resignation to expect the unexpected.

Itachi was nothing if not unpredictable.

At the bottom of a trench, wedged between unforgiving stone and dark soil, lay a tangle of brutalized flesh and bone. One outstanding feature stood out among the indiscernible heap of limbs, and that was a mop of pink hair fluttering haphazardly over a prominent forehead. A hitai-ate bearing the Leaf Village symbol held snugly to that same mop, though slightly scuffed and caked with moist dirt.

The individual in question was Sakura Haruno and a faint breeze had trickled down the walls of the steep cut to torment her in an already tormented sleep. It tickled her legs and crept under her skirt, stinging flesh burned raw from friction and gnawing relentlessly at her subconscious until the haze of her dream began to recede.

A subtle clenching of fingers preceded a sharp intake of air and her head shifted stiffly. Plumes of dust scattering as she exhaled. It was not right for the ground to be so damp when dust blanketed everything.

Sakura knew she was fully awake when her mind started to wander with a growing sense of irritation, edged sharply with panic. Her eyes opened a crack. There were shapes scattered across the ground in front of her - rocks probably - but it was too dark to tell.

Crap.

It felt like someone had taken a machete to her head and cracked it open like a melon. Or maybe a chest bursting alien had gotten lost on its way out. She couldn't remember anything from the past few hours…? Days?

Moist earth pressed against her stomach - cold, moist earth - soaking through her uniform and making this whole situation about as miserable as it could be, sans a torrential rainstorm.

Her irritation grew with the nagging of little aches and pains, and things worse that she didn't want to think about. Breathing was laborious and punctuated by stabs of pain that probably meant she'd broken a rib or two.

It didn't take a genius, or even a medic, to know that she definitely didn't want to look closely at her right leg if she wanted to keep her composure. Her left shoulder felt like it had been jammed, but she didn't have the strength or the chakra at her disposal to do a proper examination. Not that she'd mastered that technique enough to earn that distinction.

A fall as spectacular as the one she took should have killed a normal person. She knew she didn't have pink hair for nothing.

Sakura narrowed in on that thought intently, but nothing else was forthcoming. Yes, she'd fallen, but why? And why hadn't somebody dragged her carcass to safety yet? There had been others, hadn't there?

She sighed inwardly, because she didn't recall that either and this was just so irritating!

Indecision was being a right bastard for her right now, because she hurt and she didn't know what to do - if she could do anything, and no one had come for her, which was all kinds of not good. But, all evidence to the contrary, she was still a ninja of sorts and she hadn't graduated from the academy by being a simpering, love-sick idiot.

Well, not all the time anyway - only when Sasuke was around. So almost all the time.

Sakura gave a very un-amused grunt and dug her fingers into the ground beneath her, a grimace of concentration framing her mouth. Her head lifted slowly and she tested her right arm with the weight of her body before pushing onto knees. The first thing she saw when she turned her head towards her legs was the jagged end of a broken bone protruding from ripe, red skin and mangled flesh.

The pain was a micro-second behind the horrified comprehension.

"Oh shit." Her voice cracked and split like the beams of a burning house.

Tiny beads of sweat sprung along her hairline, multiplying like a virus into trickling rivulets that traveled erratically down the contours of her face. She was breathing hard and she had a white knuckled grip in her skirts as she blinked rapidly against the gut punch of dizzying nausea. When she closed her eyes they burst with lights that blinked in and out of the dark.

Her elbow buckled, but she was out before her body hit the ground.

It wasn't until her peaceful reverie was interrupted by a firm prodding to her side that Sakura realized she'd been unconscious, again. Her forehead made an ugly shadow over her tightly shut eyes and she swatted at the offending object in annoyance.

"Go away Naruto!" She mumbled peevishly and tried to role away from it and the bright light that was glaring at her eyelids.

Her body froze the instant she felt her leg catch and the explosion of pain brought tears to her closed eyes. She was quite awake now and biting down on her lip to keep from making a sound.

"Hey kid."

Sakura's mind came to a screeching halt, shoulders tense. She tried to place where she thought she'd heard that voice before, but she could barely remember her own name let alone place a disembodied voice. It seemed, in a distant part of her mind, to be…totally unfamiliar.

Maybe she was hallucinating?

"Hey kid!" Louder this time. The voice was male, baritone.

Sakura flinched, eyes springing open with a jolt of panic. Her fingers dug into the dirt and she pushed off instinctively.

"I wouldn't-"

Air hissed through her teeth at the subsequent paralyzing pain that shot from her shoulder down into her wrist, followed by a yelp. She collapsed, jarring her broken ribs in the process, and curled into herself with a moan. The air in her lungs felt like grains of glass. It came harsh and strangled, coating her throat in a thin layer of dryness that seemed to constrict more with each breath.

Why was she even here? She didn't want to be awake. She wanted to go back to sleep because anything was better than whatever this was.

Oh my god, you're going to die inhaling dust particles at the bottom of a trench!

Sakura made a face, because seriously - dying from asphyxiation was just embarrassing. Her track record already being what it was, she'd never recover from something so shamefully un-ninja-y. There'd be no living it down, literally. Not besides which, she already had her death meticulously planned out for the fateful day when she would give her life in attempt to save Sasuke from himself, but only as a last resort.

The sudden grinding of her teeth set the figure squatting above her back a wary step - it would've made her ridiculously giddy if she'd been privy to the action.

"Take it easy."

This time Sakura was able to lift her head and finally connect the disembodied voice to a face. She blinked, pale and drawn as a bright flash of light revealed blue skin, two small black pupils within round white eyes, and a set of teeth filed to sharp points. Her shoulders sagged with a dubious frown.

"You're not Sasuke." She croaked and even managed to throw a dose of accusation into her tone.

His name escaped her now, but she knew who he was - a man like him was unmistakable. Why he was here gloating over a dead rat she didn't know. She had the cold, sinking feeling - and it wasn't the frigid water that was ruining her clothes - that she would soon find out and it couldn't possibly benefit her.

"Kisame Hoshigaki, not really at your service." It was deceptively cheerful, which made it all the more creepy.

Sakura agonized between paralyzed fear and what he would do to her if she didn't move. The determining factor being that he'd probably do it anyway, regardless of whether she attempted to mount a heroic defense, because she was in no condition to fight him. She may never be in that condition, come to think of it.

She watched him, waiting for the stillness to break.

A maddening grin split his lips and he leaned forward to give her an analytical once over. The flashlight he carried cast his face in a more frightening light than ordinary. There were shadows in the hallows of his cheeks, and the dark folds around his eyes were more pronounced, but he made no move to touch her.

He seemed to find this all very amusing.

I'm in the fifth ring of hell.

"What…" She let out a feral snarl when the words got stuck in her throat, and she coughed again, wetting the insides of her mouth with saliva. Her second try was more successful, "…do you want."

Her eyes were wide, wary, and rimmed with exhaustion, but she wasn't going down without a fight. Even if she was laying prostrate at his feet. She could break his knee with a well-aimed, chakra enhanced punch.

Maybe. She hadn't quite mastered super strength - hadn't even started training for it in fact, but she could imagine it happening, and that made her feel better.

Kisame cocked his head slightly to one side as he observed with more patience than was afforded by the circumstances, the girl's sorry state of disrepair. She was glaring at him with defiance, but she was fatigued, her hand balled into a fist with an ill-advised plan of attack. It was almost cute, if he wasn't feeling the effects of being topside too long himself.

Battle lust spiked in his blood at the prospect of a violence, but practicality demanded he make this quick, for both their sakes, and killing her was not on his agenda. Itachi would not find his explanation that she fought herself to death very amusing.

"I can leave you here." He suggested calmly. "If you prefer."

Uncertainty gathered in her throat and she pushed herself up, leveling him with a suspicious stare, "Why?"

He shrugged. "Itachi says you might be useful. There's not much left alive out here - you're the first we've seen."

Something snapped in her chest and Sakura blinked rapidly, "What do you mean? I was alone."

But she knew what he meant - she knew.

The blue skinned man looked at her for a long moment, not saying anything. When he finally did, it was with more gravity than she expected to hear from the likes of him, "World's gone to shit kid - it's not just you."

Sakura looked away blithely. "Then leave me here. I don't care."

"Those weren't my orders." He returned easily and he smiled, "you're coming along, one way or another. It's your choice how."

This shouldn't be happening.

But Sakura hadn't been studying feverishly with Tsunade for the past two months to ignore the fact that she was in a bad way and he was her only hope of survival. If she was going to do this, she might as well do it comfortably - her body could ill afford the abuse. She was a survivor if nothing else.

"Fine."

A good shin obi would have slit their throat, right? Too bad she didn't have a kunai on hand. She very much doubted she'd have the wherewithal to do it anyway.

The man's razor edged teeth were impressive, but she ignored the display in favor of righting herself. She straightened up on to her good leg and carefully, carefully, shifted the injured one out of his line of sight.

His sharp eye caught onto the inconspicuous motion like a rabid dog pouncing on some misbegotten rabbit, "What's wrong with your leg?"

"Nothing." Sakura bit out defensively and edged back further.

"Don't be stupid." Kisame retorted and before she could so much as open her mouth he shoved her back to the ground, eliciting a sharp cry, and straddled her waist with part of his weight settled on her stomach.

Her eyes darkened with a mutinous snarl that didn't quite have enough air to sound menacing, not least of which because of broken ribs! "Get…off...ribs!" She wheezed, grimacing in pain.

"Oh, sorry." He lifted his weight, slightly, and she went to jerk her good leg, but his hands were too quick and he pinned it to the ground, effectively squashing her lower half into submission. Her upper body was in too much pain to allow for much wiggling.

When he twisted around to investigate what she'd been so adamant to hide, the line of his shoulders went stiff.

"Well shit," He turned to look at her, a twinkling of admiration in his odd eyes. "Why didn't you say something?"

Sakura let her head fall to the ground with a muted thud, "Oh I don't know - maybe because I thought you might just rip it off?"

Kisame leaned his head towards her with a cheeky grin that bore a disturbing similarity to one of Kakashi's favorite expressions, "Now that would just be counterproductive, wouldn't it?"

The pain was starting to numb her brain, but the frustration was as prevalent as ever. Her eyes burned with unshed tears from fear or exhaustion, she wasn't sure which. She needed help to set the bone, and it was going to hurt like unholy hell, but she was loathe to have this person come near her, let alone try to help. Not that nearness was a factor at this point, what with him sitting on her.

It was times like these that she wished she was a medic-nin or something. Wouldn't that be useful? She was never useful.

"Keep still."

The moment his hands touched her injured leg she bucked.

"What are you doing?" She shouted anxiously as his grip tightened almost to the point of bruising - it hurt. "You idiot! You can't just go setting a bone - you could damage something!"

"I'm aware." Kisame replied insipidly. "If you'd stop throwing a fit and try cooperating I might even get it right."

Sakura went very still. "Okay, " She said quickly. "Okay - just…just hold on a second."

Kisame complied, moving aside so that she could resituate herself appropriately. She breathed in sharply as her eyes skimmed over the injury with out strictly seeing it. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, which may have been quivering from the strain of not screaming.

Oh wow, this is going to hurt. Where was some anesthesia when you needed it? Her pulse was quickening as shock re-entered her system and she cast about anxiously for a familiar green back pack. It was too dark to tell anything but indistinct lumps of black.

"My bag." She said, reaching out to feel the ground. "I need my bag. It has some medical supplies in it."

The missing nin straightened immediately, the light of his flashlight making wide sweeps across the ground as he made a pass around the area. "I don't see it." He said. "We're just gonna have to do it the old fashioned way."

Sakura felt her heart rate spike as he lumbered back over to her. He gave her all of two seconds to compose herself before he was sitting on her again.

Her breath hitched when she felt his grip on her leg. "Wait, stop!"

"I'm not-"

"Let me-"

They stopped mid sentence to glare at one another.

Sakura grit her teeth. "Just let me see it."

He sat back grudgingly, shining light on it for her as she hunched forward to take a look. It looked decidedly ghastly. Her hands clenched and she tried not inhale too deeply, because that just made her ribs hurt - oh this was so a bad idea.

Kisame was crouched in front of her, watching her with an impatient frown.

"Maybe you should cut the boot away." She suggested vaguely.

"Obviously."

Sakura gritted her teeth, "Well sorry, not everyone is as smart as you."

Kisame wordlessly produced a kunai from his cloak and deftly sliced away the material that hugged her calves. He was quick and efficient about it, the pain contained in very small tugs. Then he was handing her a leather strap.

"Put that between your teeth." He commanded.

Sakura barely had time to register what that meant before she felt his right hand take a firm grip on her ankle again and a shock of pain went up her leg. Her eyes watered as she stuffed the leather thong into her mouth, biting down for all she was worth. She was not going to look.

It happened fast.

The bone snapped into place with grinding force and it was like someone had stuck an exploding tag in her leg, and she screamed for all she was worth. Kisame had to throw himself across her legs before she launched him flying, or caused more damage to herself, and pinned her to the ground with the full force of his weight. Her eyes were squeezed so tight that the salty liquid burning behind them couldn't get out and her teeth sank into the leather thong with a vengeance.

Seconds passed like hours. Sakura was reconsidering that kunai to the throat. It was not going to end - the pain would consume her and she would die there with an S-class criminal draped across her, which just wasn't fair and slitting her throat would be way more cool.

But even as the thought crossed her mind the agony was receding and she was starting to see again, in dark splotches instead of white.

Sakura sagged back on her elbows, breathing hard and shaking from head to toe. The leather strap fell from her mouth, bitten clean through, and her head fell back with a long suffering groan. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat, which felt really gross, and her ribs really hated her, but the worst of it was over.

When Kisame did not immediately remove himself she gave him a warning glance, which he ignored.

Naturally.

"How does it feel?" He asked seriously.

Sakura didn't want to risk moving it, but the set seemed good and she felt a small amount of relief at that. "It's good." She murmured. As in, it hurt like fucking hell, but not as bad as it had a minute ago.

Kisame let go then and stood up, shaking out his cloak. "Good. Let's go."

"It should really be splinted." She trailed off, eyeballing her leg with some reluctance. At least there wasn't a bone jutting out of it anymore.

"We can do that at the top."

Sighing, Sakura stood up on her good foot, swaying unsteadily. She braced her hand against the wall of the trench and had to close her eyes as the ground seem to sway in front of her. What she had to say next basically stomped all over her pride with maniacal glee.

Her gaze shifted between him and indistinct shapes in the dark with a petulant sniff. "You'll have to carry me."

Kisame knelt to the ground and said, with positively gleeful resignation, "Well hop on then, cupcake. We don't have all day."

Her nostrils flared menacingly, but he was too busy waiting for her to get on to properly appreciate her fury. She took a good long look at the steep face they would have to climb and frowned unhappily. There was no way she was going to make it in her present condition, even with the rope that he had used to get down.

Why was I left here alone? Her heart sank a little further.

Sakura eyed his back with an acute sense of revulsion. She wondered if it were possible for her to do as he asked without actually touching him. She certainly tried. The fabric of his Akatsuki cloak was bunched under her fingers as she hopped up and sort of draped herself on him, legs dangling awkwardly at his sides without strictly holding on.

When she felt his hands grip behind her knees and forcibly clamp them around his waist, she tensed up like a guitar string. Then he grabbed her hands and positioned them securely around his neck.

Sakura's face had become a bright red balloon of mortification.

Imagine it's Sasuke, imagine it's Sasuke, imagine it's-

"Hold on." His voice, as coarse as gravel, interrupted her mantra with brisk finality.

While every pore of her body rebelled at the idea, she kept her hands firmly locked and consoled herself with the knowledge that this had to be a really bad dream. That the Blue Hulking Moron hadn't dismembered her yet was an obvious indication. Saving her life solidified her theory as law - in no realm of reality could this possibly occur.

Pleased with her powers of perception, Sakura closed her eyes and waited patiently to wake up. Her mind was adrift in delirious exhaustion not long after.

Author's Notes: Alright, one chapter down. So...is it worth continuing, or shall I bury myself in shame and never show my face again? I've never written anything like this before, but I wanted to try something different so here we are. I'm ashamed to say that I've got about three other stories going (one of them is about finished) and I'm justifying the starting of a new one because I've been in super writing mode and updated everything - sort of, still working on one, eh heh.

The direction I chose to take this idea of mine was inspired by the Coen Brother's "True Grit", which came out in theaters back in December. This is an excellent movie, even if Westerns are not your thing. The music is also fantastic, but it's the story and the characters that really struck me, and I wanted to try something similar with some of my favorite characters in the Naruto-verse.

Hope you enjoyed the read!