Lost in thought, Sakura hardly notice the two women and pig leave the room as thought of her situation. Apprehension was coursing through her; it was understandable that she was nervous. Sasuke had never particularly liked her—well, he didn't seem to particularly like anyone—and she was not sure how well he'd warm up to the state of affairs, if at all. She knew his stubborn pride and independent nature would conflict terribly with the treatment, and he would most likely refuse all help. Of course that would be impossible to work with—she needed to make him understand that he was not longer independent, no matter how much it would hurt him. The question was how to make him understand?
She cracked open the textbook, looking at the table of contents for indications of what chapter would be most useful to review. She turned to a page somewhere near the middle of the book—her mind became split in two, both parts still aware of what the other was doing. Outer Sakura was reading the book rested in her lap and feeding the information to Inner Sakura, committing it to memory. Inner Sakura, meanwhile, was coming up with a plan in order to get Sasuke to cooperate, and giving the details to outer Sakura. It was in this unique way that she could multi-task and be able to remember things better than other people could, which is why she probably graduated at the top of her class when they became genin.
With a plan being formed in her mind and information being branded into it, Sakura prepared herself for Sasuke's rehabilitation.
Sasuke stood in the shower stall, letting the cool water rush over him, his one hand braced against the wall. The wetness ran through his hair, causing the dried blood to become soaked and wash out. More water was running over his face, and he kept his eyes squinted shut tightly—they were already stinging from being injured, and he did not want any droplets to increase that pain.
The two medical ninja, who had come to his room shortly after the Fifth Hokage and Sakura had departed, helped him get undressed and into the shower, and were now waiting outside the bathroom for him to let them know when he was finished washing up. It had been a strange experience walking around blind as they helped him out of his bed—the whole world seemed to have lost its ups and downs and he became dizzy and lightheaded. He had his hand resting against the wall of the shower in order to give him a reference point in which to relate his senses. It would only probably be that way for a little while and he would get used to using his feet as a reference point to the world. He would be okay.
That last thought drew his mind to Sakura. Haruno Sakura… It hadn't been until her passionate statement that his suspicions were confirmed of someone else being in the room. That hadn't really surprised him—what had surprised him was that he finally recognized the voice from earlier that morning; it had been Sakura's. She had acted completely different from the Sakura he knew, and he was also surprised that she hadn't been sitting by his bedside already when he woke. She hadn't once put a 'kun' suffix after his name when she had spoken it. Perhaps she no longer cared for him in that way—it would definitely make rehabilitation more bearable if she didn't. The last thing he needed was Sakura fangirling during the whole thing.
He bent down and felt around on the floor for the shampoo he had been given before beginning to wash out the rest of the matted blood from his hair. He decided then that he would get well as quickly as he could, so that he did not have to put up with old acquaintances—he would give the Hokage any information he could and then leave Konoha once the procedure was over. He needed no business with Konoha or Orochimaru; they both would not be able to assist him in his revenge because he was the only one who cared about avenging the Uchiha clan.
Reaching out he turned off the tap and the water came to a halt, a quiet dripping splashing onto the ground. Fumbling for the handle of the door to the stall he cursed his current state, but knew that he had had no other acceptable alternative. He stepped out of the shower and placed his hand on a stack of towels that had been put out for him; grabbing one, he wrapped it around his waist.
"Uchiha," one of the medical ninja's knocked on the door from outside, "Are you finished?"
"Aa," Sasuke replied, rubbing his hair dry with another towel from the pile.
He heard faintly, on the other side of the door, one medic say to the other: "Go tell Haruna Sakura that Uchiha Sasuke will be ready shortly for treatment."
He lowered the towel from his head and held the thick fabric in his hands; no matter what, he would get well, whether Sakura was the one who treated him or not.
Sakura placed her hand on the handle of the door to Sasuke's room, a small nervousness plaguing her. Having read up on the human eye and reviewing the what she already knew had helped a great deal, but she was still anxious—she did not want to make a mistake.
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