crumpled on the bathroom floor, sakura weeps and blames herself. her pregnancy was a shock and as she made her way to the safehouse they were going to meet at, sakura panicked over their future. could she really have another child when sarada was growing so resentful and sasuke's mission just never seemed to end? now blood streaks down her thighs as tears stream down her face. "i'm sorry," she cries. "i'm so, so sorry." this is how sasuke finds her.
He enters, just as the telltale rhombus flickers on her forehead, just as the inky tells of her power entwine with the burgundy vined about her legs. His eyes each insist on opposing interpretations of the tableau before him, but the acrid brush of death upon his nose stills all thought. It takes all his strength to pull her hands away from her belly, a gesture proven impotent but a heartbeat later.
He feels her agony, before he even hears her scream. He feels the impossible, misshapen mass burgeon beneath his hands, feels the muscles of her torso stretch and tear at the sudden bulk, before his vision clears to see the amalgam of his cells and hers, his chakra pulsing ever stronger in her as she feeds it life, hers.
“Stop,” he begs her.
She doesn’t.
