The Collapse
The hollow sound of her laughter was more jarring than the explosion of their clashing chakra. It wasn't a laugh of madness or even of bitterness; it was the sound of a woman realizing she had spent years investing in a currency that no longer existed.
"This has been such a waste," she whispered, her voice carrying over the crackle of Sasuke's fading Susanoo and the rush of the river. "Of my time... of my heart... of everything."
She looked at her hands—one stained with her own blood, the other glowing with the remnants of the power she had honed just to keep up with them. "I am done."
The declaration wasn't a surrender to him; it was a resignation from the role she had played her entire life. She took one step back, then another, her eyes never leaving Sasuke's. The wall was finally complete. It was cold, thick, and silent. Behind it, the girl who had loved the Uchiha was buried deep under the rubble of the bridge.
The adrenaline that had been suturing her together suddenly evaporated. The jagged wound on her shoulder, cauterized but deep, began to bleed through her tunic in earnest. The world tilted. The grey sky and the purple glow of the Susanoo swirled into a muddy charcoal.
As her knees buckled, her vision tunneled. She didn't reach out for Naruto, who was shouting her name in a panic. She didn't look at Sasuke one last time for a sign of regret. She simply let go.
Before she could hit the cracked stone, Kakashi was there. He caught her with a practiced, somber gentleness, his arm supporting her back as her head fell against his flak jacket.
"Sakura!" Naruto cried out, reaching for her, his face a mask of terror.
"She's alive, Naruto," Kakashi said, his voice heavy with a grief that went beyond physical injury. He looked down at his student. Even in unconsciousness, her face wasn't peaceful; her brow was furrowed, and her jaw remained set in that new, hardened line. She looked older. "But she's reached her limit. In more ways than one."
Kakashi looked up at Sasuke across the gap. The Uchiha stood still, his Sharingan fading back to black. For a fleeting second, the coldness in Sasuke's eyes flickered—not out of love, but perhaps out of a strange, unsettling recognition. He had wanted to break her, but looking at her limp form in Kakashi's arms, he realized he hadn't broken a victim; he had forged an enemy.
"Take her and go," Sasuke said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "The next time we meet, that wall she's built won't be enough to save her."
Kakashi tightened his grip on Sakura, pulling her closer. "It wasn't built to save her from you, Sasuke," Kakashi replied, his tone chillingly sharp. "It was built to save her from herself. And you've lost the only person who would have ever died to bring you home."
To be continued