"Hiroto Yokoyama." The boy's eyes fluttered open, revealing dark blue eyes that seemed to have a muddy brown near the pupil. A girl with pink hair was bending over him with a serious look on her face.

He quickly looked around him, groaned from the soreness, and saw he was inside an unfamiliar house. "Where am I?" He croaked, then shifted. He was on a couch.

The girl only shook her head, then demanded, "Sleep."

His eyes fluttered shut almost immediately, and he was soon dozing off. Sakura stood up from where she was perched on the couch. She inspected the boy for a minute before pulling the blanket hanging from the couch onto him and clicked the lamp off, shaking off a dark feeling.

Sakura walked into the kitchen, took the kettle off from the stove, and poured the hot water into the bowl with miso paste. She took her spoon and stirred, then deposited it in the sink, making a mental note to do the dishes before Kizashi and Mebuki came back, and to have the boy out by their return. Sakura took one of the three onigiri and ate in a few bites, then gulped down the soup before pouring some hot water into a bowl and then dipping a towel into it. She squeezed it, ridding the cloth of excess water, and then moved back to her unexpected guest. For the next fifteen minutes, Sakura patted his bloodied face with the warm towel until she decided that was all she could do without him waking. She stretched and cracked her back before scratching her head and heading to her own room. After some debate, she locked the door and changed from the clothes that had gotten some blood on it, then went to sleep. It did not take her long to start dreaming.

Dreaming of the early days of Team Seven when Kakashi was late and Naruto was goofy and carefree and Sasuke was secretly caring and could forget about being an avenger. Dreaming of when Sakura was with her family.

✿ ✿ ✿

Her eyes snapped open, and Sakura sat up, immediately rubbing away the sleep from her eyes. Like always, she checked her calendar. Today was circled with the words: 'Mebuki and Kizashi return'. With a start, Sakura remembered her unexpected guest and hurried to the door. The boy on the couch was still asleep.

Sakura went to the kitchen and turned the stove to the highest setting, placing the kettle onto it, then took out two bowls and squeezed miso paste into both of them. She drummed her fingers on the counter, staring out the window. She didn't usually dream, but when she did, they were always of Team Seven, or rather what it was. The couch squeaked, causing Sakura to turn suddenly. The kettle whistled and she poured hot water into both bowls, grabbed the last two onigiri, and placed them on a tray before making her way to the couch. She placed it down on the coffee table cautiously, staring at the blanket-covered lump on her couch. Sakura narrowed her eyes, then lifted the edge of the blanket, revealing the sleeping boy.

She relaxed, then moved closer to poke him awake. He wouldn't wake up, but only groaned. Sakura blinked, then prodded him harder. "Wake up," she commanded, causing his eyes to fly open and dart around the room in a frenzied panic. The boy's blue eyes landed on her face, and he began to move away from her. Sakura watched him impassively, wondering why her presence was causing him distress. They stared at each other before she left to the kitchen, retrieving a bag of ice and handing it to him. "You look terrible," she said dryly, then pointed to the tray behind her. "Eat." He continued to stare at her distrustfully, then relented the look, pointing his gaze elsewhere. "I cannot guess what you are thinking," Sakura told him. "I have errands to run, and I do not want to waste my time on you."

The boy's eyes widened, then slowly filled with tears. "It hurts to move," he croaked, more tears streaming down his face now. "If I could, I would. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He turned in shame, his body trembling from his silent sobs.

Sakura studied him, the boy that she had saved Naruto from on the tree swing back before they went to the Academy. She had said something to him...but what was it? He was in her therapy group, and showed all the classic signs for abuse and neglect. Victims of abuse typically feel remorse for everything to an extreme point, due to being forced to take blame for occurrences, even if it was out of their control. They have low self-esteem, and may act violently towards others, or break down, Sakura recited to herself. If he were a victim of abuse, whether emotional or physical, he would not want to be touched. She retracted the hand that was hesitantly reached out.

Sakura paused, then asked, "I need to move you upwards, so you can swallow properly. Do you need help in doing so?"

"What?" The boy's eyes zeroed in on the food behind her. He shut his eyes, trying to cut off the flow of tears. They opened, and more tears fell. He looked down, embarrassed and angry with himself. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to feel sorry," Sakura assured him awkwardly. "I am going to put one hand underneath your legs, and other on your shoulder," she told him cautiously.

The boy nodded slightly. "Okay."

After a minute, Sakura managed to have the boy sitting upright. She sat down beside him, then reached for the bowl, lifting the rim to his mouth. "You were in a fight when I saw you," Sakura stated, hoping he would fill in the blanks. She put down the bowl.

The boy nodded, gulping. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "I got into some trouble with my friends." He winced. "They were finally fed up with how I had been treating them, I guess."

Ah, friends. It was not exactly a subject Sakura was too confident about, seeing how one of her closest friends had betrayed their village and her trust. She thought about it, lifting the bowl again, watching the boy drink. "Perhaps friends do not beat each other up. Unless it is a form of bonding," she said thoughtfully, thinking of what was Naruto and Sasuke's odd relationship. She watched him swallow the rest of the soup and put the bowl down again, now lifting the onigiri to his face. He took a hesitant bite, chewing and thinking to himself.

Sakura sat patiently, debating with herself whether or not to speak. Finally, she relented. "Your left shoulder is dislocated," she commented, watching him come to. "You need medical attention as soon as possible. I did not escort you to the hospital last night because they were not life-threatening injuries." From the few glimpses of his arms and legs, they were blue and purple from bruises. "I will accompany you to the hospital after you are finished eating."

The boy paused, shocked. "I really don't need help getting there—!"

Sakura stared at him quizzically. "You are unable to move." She sniffed, nonchalantly taking the wrapper and dishes away to the kitchen.

"Hiroto."

Sakura turned. "What?"

"I'm Hiroto," the boy said shyly, staring at the blanket. He wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Hn. Let us go, Hiroto. There are only so many hours in a day. I imagine it may take longer," Sakura said dryly, putting an arm around his torso.