Dressing the Wounds

There were a lot of things about Lee that just didn’t make sense, Sakura thought, looking around his apartment and trying not to make it seem like she was staring. As strange as the young man acted, she would have expected his place to be decorated as oddly as himself, but what she found was something plain, normal, and completely unremarkable. The walls were painted pale cream, the floor was bare, brushed hardwood, and none of the furniture reflected Lee’s love of green spandex. Or orange legwarmers, for that matter. Sitting gingerly on the edge of his couch, Sakura couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was getting blood all over his nice, normal apartment. Of course, most of it wasn’t hers – or they would have gone straight to the hospital – but . . . it seemed wrong, somehow, to have blood mar this place of calm normality. It could have been the home of any non-combatant in Konoha, not one of their most well-trained and deadly jounin. She must have lost more blood than she thought, to be feeling this maudlin. “Sakura-san!” Lee said, bursting into the room with a first aid kit in his hands. “Sakura-san, I’ve got the first aid kit! Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? I mean, I’m good at dressing the wounds gained in the honourable fight for Konoha’s pride, but Sakura-san requires a far more gentle—” “Lee,” Sakura interrupted, “it’s fine. These wounds are very minor, and I’d heal them myself, if—” “If you hadn’t wasted your chakra healing me!” Lee yelled. “If I hadn’t exhausted my reserves in the course of my duty,” Sakura finished, glowering at him. Her expression softened when he slumped, looking like a kicked puppy. “And also because I didn’t want to see you die,” she said. “You’re more important than a few cuts and grazes.” When Lee blushed bright red and began rummaging in the first aid kit, apparently at a loss for words, Sakura couldn’t help the sudden surge of affectionate irritation. She wasn’t a foolish child any more; she didn’t believe that the handsome and talented prince would ever return her affections – nor that he would be anything other than the worst boyfriend ever if he did. It had taken her a while to realise that, but when she did she suddenly knew what sort of person she was really looking for – and had begun dropping subtle hints to Lee. Who was far, far too dense to ever pick up on them. “Hold out your arm, please, Sakura-san,” Lee said, his voice calm but his face still bright red. Sakura dutifully stuck her arm out and tried not to wince when he cleaned the blood off it with alcohol-soaked medicinal wipes. After a quick inspection and a more thorough clean – ouch – Lee nodded to himself and bandaged the arm, then moved on to her other injuries. Sakura waited until he was done and packing the first aid kit away, then leaned forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Lee. . . .” Lee gave her a quick, startled grin, before completely misinterpreting her purpose. “Do not worry, Sakura-san! Your prodigious talents healed me fully before we had even finished our battle! It is our Springtime—” Sakura rolled her eyes and smiled at him. “Thank you, Lee,” she said, before he could get any further. Lee smiled back, a hint of blush returning to his cheeks. “If you wish to find Sasuke-kun, you shall need to be fully healed.” Sakura sighed, and attempted to address the issue for the thousandth time. “Lee, about that—” Lee jumped to his feet and struck one of his ‘Nice Guy’ poses, thumb out and teeth glinting. “I, Rock Lee, promise that I shall do everything in my power to help Sakura-san find her beloved, or I shall run five hundred laps around Konoha with fifty – no, one HUNDRED – kilograms of rocks on my back!” “Don’t do that, you idiot, you’ll give yourself back problems,” Sakura snapped. “Fear not, Sakura-san, for Rock Lee never breaks a promise!” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sakura muttered, looking down to hide the small smile that appeared whenever Lee did one of his pronouncements. They were really kind of cute, after a while – even if Lee himself didn’t seem to realise that the reason she was still searching for Sasuke had nothing to do with love, and everything to do with guilt. One particularly evil part of her mind produced the mental image of ten miniature Lees with pink hair striking a pose, however, and she shuddered. If that ever happens, I’m buying out Konoha’s stock of hair dye, she swore to herself. Glancing up at Lee, who was still ranting on about Youth and the Beauty of Love, she smiled and changed the ‘if’ to a ‘when’.

Back to Pharmakon