She should have been better, faster, stronger. What is the point of trying to save someone when she can barely save herself? What's the point when she has to deal with all of those looks, those sneers and those eye rolls.
The end is where she begins; that's what Inner tells her all the time. The beast in her mind tells her things that should never be said, things that she knows she's not supposed to know and things that are clearly not for her ears. Inner only says that it wasn't her ears that did the hearing, but their mouths that did the yapping. Had Sakura known what they knew, she would still go after the boy; with a better plan.
She has to scream, she has to breath. She can't breathe. She can't scream.
He has her in a tight hold Chidori screeching behind her. Through her.
Her knees go numb, then they wobble. Sasuke lets her drop, an undignified yelp flowing out of her lips as she begins to taste the blood rushing up against her throat. The foul taste is enough for her to gag, but there isn't enough in her to throw up. There never is.
Sasuke's hands are bloody, red bold against his pale skin and his blue attire. There were so many options, and she chose the one that had her killed, the one that made her a fool of herself again. Why is she like this, always fucking up in front of Sasuke? Always making herself look less and less like a dignified woman, like a kunoichi and more like a mistake to her village, like a mistake to her teachers and her senpais.
She doesn't know when, but she knows that Sasuke leaves. Her mouth dries, and she cries and she finds nothing wrong with it. She's lasted this long with a chunk of her chest missing, and all she can do is cry. That is the only thing that she has and there's nothing wrong with it; not anymore. When he said all of those things to her
("Go home Sakura, this does not pertain to you."
"You're weak, you were always weak. Just get up and leave.")
she had to honor what her teachers taught her a fight! Sakura couldn't let him do that to their effort to make her better, to make her stronger and a force to obey.
But she lies in the filthy ground, wet from the soft rain against her cooling skin, dirt clogged between her nails as she tried to make herself move get up getupgetupyoucan'tstaydowngetupyoufoolgetup. If her heart still beats she knows her face would be rose red and hands shaky as the burning adrenaline rushes through her veins.
All she wanted was someone to love and someone to love her. How can something so... small, basic, be so hard for her to achieve?
How can she live(if she even makes it, because the chances that someone will see her is slim, regardless of how stupidly pink her hair is) knowing that she was denied the most basic affections a human can ever get?
It doesn't get better. It never will. She spent so much effort, put in so much time just for him. Can't he see it? Can't he see that she cares and that she'll do anything for him?