Author's Note:

This fanfiction was created after a lewd, inspiring doujinshi. This is my first fanfiction, and has not been beta-read. Be gentle, and if you have any recommendations/suggestions, feel free.

If you're here, I am sure you're aware that this is a Kakashi and Sakura fanfic. Yes, there is an age gap. No, I'm not messing with it. Yes, Sakura gets together with Sasuke in the end. No, I don't really care. If you're here to get your first spin for a lesser known couple, I hope I leave a good impression.

You also understand that it is rated M. Given that you're here for the lewds, I figure there won't be too judgmental readers out there - remember, no kink shame, or you don't get creative ideas.

Enjoy.

When Sakura first considered Kakashi, it had been a twist of imagination. A black magic curiosity.

She leaned on the window as inspective eyes peeked below. Autumn speckled the village with brilliant bronzes, reds, and golds. Huddled villagers walked the earthen paths as leaves danced at their feet. For a brief moment, Sakura wondered what each villager was doing with their day today. Where was Ino? Where was Lee? Where was Tenten? Where are all these strangers going, today?

She rolled her tongue around her cheek, tearing her eyes away from the window and to her desk. Memos, notations, documentation, taunted her with a judgmental presence for shirking her work. She was at the last stretch of toil before it was ready for clinical trials. The project had her worked to the bone for months, and for whatever reason, today she felt the full weight of the fatigue.

The Fifth had approved several medical theses during her study and training. It was her way of returning the favor for the mentorship. She had taken the task very seriously: her industriousness was her only security that there wouldn't be room for too many failures. Her eyes moved through the topography of information. She chewed her lip begrudgingly, then glided back to her desk. Procrastination wasn't part of her character, and she wasn't going to start now.

In everyday life, Sakura's weekdays and weekends had no meaning anymore. Time was measured through to-do lists and accomplishment. Where the chasm of Sasuke left her bereft, the commitment to keep her mind busy replaced it. In her stubbornness that even rivaled Naruto, she fulfilled her own monumental task without a skip of the beat. Medicine had now become her beloved, both for the sake of her career and sanity.

The minutes flew as she systematized her findings in a binder. She sipped her tea, neatly uncluttering esoteric essays and factual text in piles of "explore later", sifting into the binder, or "return to the library." Papers of chakra transfusions, blood transfusions, shared memory and experimental psychology tickled as distractions to Sakura's mind. Much of these excerpts were still in their theoretical stages which left her all too excited to explore more. Every few papers, she would snatch another post-it and write something, "explore later," "find a volunteer," or "fill in the gap of research."

As Sakura finished up the last of the rogue tomes of her maelstrom of medical knowledge, she could make out a few words of Tsunade. The silence would shatter with a frustrated shout. Sakura sipped her tea calmly and wondered what mission had gone awry this time.

There were a lot of perks working in the Hokage office.

Direct access to the Fifth Hokage the ruling benefit. The ease of access for clearing up a misunderstanding of text, patient advice, or availability for emergencies allowed Sakura to spend much time with one of the legendary sannin. There was the renowned library. Bookcases of coveted secrets towered like ancient trees, packed full of forbidden scrolls and old books. Having this grove of knowledge at her fingertips was humbling.

Yet, despite these advantages, the simpler things were what Sakura treasured most. She had a sense of community in a team where she could grow. Her mentor was both like a sister and a friend. Over time, between the thousands of pages she consumed, hundreds of medical practices she attempted, the exhausting late nighters, she was creating something magnificent. Where there had been nothing but an ambiguous shell built on other's opinions, an identity was being formed. A daydream of meeting Sasuke fluttered butterflies in her stomach. How would he look at her, finally having caught up to him?

Another footnote, another scribble. Sakura picked up her cup of rose tea only to find it empty. She finished her notation only to get up and see her teapot just as empty. Stiff limbs and waning sunlight gave Sakura an indication how much time had passed since she last stood up. She knew she needed to wrap up soon. She was trying to make it a habit of leaving before Tsunade. It disrespectful to be working longer and harder hours than the Hokage herself.

She headed down the empty hallway as an uneasy feeling stirred from the silence. As she entered the communal kitchen, her mind buzzed on autopilot. In these small moments where she wasn't suffocating her thoughts with knowledge or distraction, lurking daydreams of Sasuke re-surfaced.

They emerged like whimsical leaves stirring unseen then taking flight by the wind. Twirling through the sky, her thoughts drifted with them. Far away they descended down, their rough edges brushing up against coarse black hair. His expression was its usual subdued resentment. She could feel the coldness of a secluded cave, its condescension dripping into a chilled stream. Darkness that would feel heavier than normal, flickers of torchlight, a cold voice guiding an angrier, calmer one. Predatory eyes gleaming over campfire dinners, muscle moving with predatory rhythm. The air always held a coppery smell, a lingering odor of human blood in the air.

Her mind stopped as her heart quickened. Subconsciously she blocked out the emotional anxiety. She didn't want to go down that road; she didn't want to think Sasuke was following too closely in his footsteps. Her mental defenses caused the thoughts to recoil, and the wind turned to another direction. They floated southward to settle on the top of sunshine color.

Puffs of warm fog danced from chapped lips. Ringing laughter soon followed after, a melodic sheer in the crisp air. This wonder was far more pleasant. Sakura imagined playful shouts in aged baritone and crackling adolescence. How the trailing smell of noodle broth would scent the blaze of orange. The two fit well together in her picture; both matching in wild passions and unbridled personalities. They would contend with their extremes day and night, only breaks being a sprinkle of romantic advice, laid thick with confidence and flavored with sake. There would be silly faces and nightly frog choruses. She hoped he was having the time of his life.

The whistle of the teapot brought Sakura back home to Konoha. With the more significant part of Team 7 at large, Sakura's world seemed much smaller than it used to be.

The workday had reached its end. Having cleared her own desk for tomorrow's next stages, she gathered remaining texts and tenderly picked up another cup of tea. As a last duty, she intended to stop by Tsunade's as a simple house call. She steadied the teacup in her hand and made her way down the hall.

She knocked on the heavy door. To her curiosity, Shizune didn't answer. She knocked again, louder, and Tsunade's soused voice spoke up from beyond the wood, "What is it now?"

"Lady Hokage," Sakura spoke clearly, used to her usual brunt greeting during these days. "I'm here to drop some tea off, and see if you need any books returned to the archive."

"Oh, Sakura," she said with lazy familiarity, "come right on in."

She opened the door and found unsurprising evidence of Tsunade's crusade. Glass warriors sacrificed in the name of Konoha's future, many of them beholding Tsunade's favorite label. It had been a long-waged war to finish paperwork before dispatch. Sakura maneuvered her way around and placed a porcelain cup on the only bare spot in the study. The office was a mess: it went double for the paper disaster that was Tsunade's desk. Tsunade leaned back on her chair. Her blonde pigtails hung over the top rail, and her neck was cradled with plush padding. The wood creaking showed its stress as she bored holes into the ceiling.

"Are there any books you need me to return?"

Tsunade groaned and leaned further back in her chair. "Probably," she resisted an exasperated tone, closing her eyes. "I didn't even get a chance to check. If it's not this endless goddamn bureaucratic nonsense, it's persistent interruptions from the villagers."

There was a heavy lull, as always, whenever Tsunade mentioned disruptive visitations. Without the antics of Naruto, the visitations had less levity these days. Much of them reduced to nagging politics, formal finalizations or opening forum with elders. Tsunade was not one who had the rigidity of discipline on her side, and with all business and no fun, she found herself consistently on edge.

"That's all right," Sakura said formally. "I can come by tomorrow before briefings."

"Sakura," Tsunade propped herself back up in her chair, leaning into the tops of her folded hands. The swivel chair gave a sigh of relief. "I do need some assistance. Most of the clerical staff is out for the day. And I need," she paused, lowering down before shuffling and bringing out a fresh bottle of plum wine. "Someone to help me clear through this, so I can drag myself through the last round of this bullshit."

Sakura hesitated a response. She reminded herself of her checklist for tomorrow's trials, and putting in her open slotted time for field missions, and—

"You're probably ahead of schedule, again," Tsunade answered. "You're not Team 7 anymore, Sakura."

Sakura gave a soft smile. She enjoyed every moment of praise but was too shy to accept it boldfaced.

"Probably," she agreed with a chuckle.

"Then grab a seat, sit down. If I see any more clauses, articles of law, or contracts, I'm going to yank out my hair."

She slid a drawer open and flipped two sake cups up. She unscrewed the wine bottle with practiced finesse. The smell of sweet plums tingled in the air.

Tsunade was always an open-minded mentor. She operated within reasonable rules and expectations. In short, Tsunade only had two rules: do what she asked, with excellence. Second, do what was right by your own moral code. Everything else was flexible, including offering alcohol without the law's permission.

Tsunade passed a cup of plum wine.

"What a day," Tsunade drunkenly huffed, waving her hand at the unruly mound of white. "To think this is someone's dream. These kids see the face of the Hokage and think it's a bunch of commanding words and sitting in this pretentious building. Little do they know." She finished her cup and poured another.

"But every decision you make here," Sakura said carefully, but with respect, "is reflected immediately every day in the village." She took a few gulps of her own; this was much easier to stomach than some of the harder sake Tsunade offered her.

"I wish I had time to even see that," Tsunade snarked, lacing the words with a stressed out, biting laugh. "Ah, a privilege a 'crunch' Hokage can't afford."

Sakura nursed her drink. Tsunade glanced over at her disciple, noticing her quieter than usual. "Thinking about them again today?"

Sakura looked up at Tsunade and gave a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, meddling thoughts now, really." She drank a lot more upon the admittance. She offered the empty cup to Tsunade, who obliged her with a refill.

Tsunade waited patiently for Sakura to open up. She preferred to let her volunteer the information rather than maternally interrogate.

After a period of silence, Sakura spoke, her thoughts gathered. "Each and every time I think about him," she said, pulling away from her sensei's warm champagne eyes, "a part of me isn't quite in love. It's strange to think that things have turned out the way they have. I was in love with him for as long as I could remember. Now, he's not someone I can imagine respecting, let alone loving, at all. Even with his confusion, and even painful background, I feel a boundary was crossed that can't be undone. Yet, I don't want to let go. I don't know what to do with all this."

Tsunade remained silent, knowing there was still more to come. She swigged from the cup and filled it again.

"So there's a part of me still holding onto a future. The louder part knows the real truth," Sakura said plainly.

Sakura looked at Tsunade's smile but didn't return it. She looked helpless sitting there, finishing her second round of plum wine. "I came here to become better because I wanted to help my village, my teammates, be a better kunoichi. It's not that that isn't true - I do want to do those things. But those are just the cover stories. I came here to be someone worthy of a genius like him. I can use cover stories on others, but I can't use it on myself."

Tsunade let the sentence remain, and then urged, "And?"

"Love has been my biggest drive. I haven't lost my dedication, but he was such a large part of my dream. There's a void where love used to live and I don't know what to fill it with."

"Ah," Tsunade halted her drinking, pacing herself because she needed any scrape of awareness she had. This was a crossroad. She had seen enough in her own life to recognize it.

The Hokage pursed her lips and her own eyes floated at the lacquer of her desk. She felt responsible for imparting wisdom, especially having been in this position herself. "Well, Sakura, do you want to love someone like that again?"

"I don't know."

Tsunade lounged in the thick of the question. Her drunk mind realized asking a 16-year-old about true love was a bit too philosophical given the lack of context. Instead, she decided to retell her own experience, and lend Sakura some frame of reference to give some direction. When she spoke, she noticed that the silence had gone on too long, and Sakura seemed tense. "When Dan died," she started, "I did not love anyone else. Because I couldn't see myself loving anyone else."

Sakura soaked in the words, letting them slip in between the intrusive thoughts. The tenseness that had stiffened her limbs started to melt. The wine was working its charm, loosening things tightly held in her body and subconscious. She could feel herself a little lighter, and that was a grateful feeling. She had felt so rigid and heavy earlier.

"There were times when I got close," Tsunade admitted. "There were plenty of times that I found myself in a moment that I shared with Dan. I could hear myself saying, 'Do I dare?'"

Tsunade's usual attentive eyes did not focus. They moved from the desk to the orange rays that were now pooling into her office. She lingered on those rays, then turned to her side. Her profile was outlined in a deep tangerine glow. She seemed ethereal in that moment: somber, wise, and older. Even though she didn't look it, Sakura could feel Tsunade's age. Amber eyes stared into the sunset colored space, lost in her own emotional memory.

"In the end, I didn't. I thought that by loving another man, I was being disrespectful to his memory. Did I really love Dan, if I could so easily love another just as much? Would I be desecrating a dream of ours by building it with someone else? It felt like infidelity, even though Dan passed away long ago."

It was Sakura's turn to help urge the rest out of Tsunade. "Did that mean you didn't want a love like that after losing him?"

Tsunade's response was quick and uncharacteristically empty of snark flippancy. "No, it didn't. The truth was I did want to love someone, even if it wasn't Dan. I was confused with honoring a memory and allowing myself happiness. I'm sure Dan would have wanted it."

Tsunade shifted in her chair, coming out of the fog of her own memories. Her eyes peeled away from the setting sun and back into Sakura's enrapt eyes. "There were plenty of times I could have, Sakura. I did not. The years passed and I found myself in the next phase of my life. I had missed out on something I realized too late I wanted to be a part of. It was all due to an inability to answer a simple question at the right time."

Sakura could feel a deep emotion in Tsunade's voice. She tried to place it. It wasn't the alcohol; it wasn't work fatigue; it wasn't regret. It felt like sincerity, a graceful acceptance of all that had passed and what it had made of her.

"I could have had a family by now," she reflected, the natural buoyancy of sarcasm in her voice returning. "I could have been a real grandma Tsunade.

"These are things I can't change. I've dealt my cards. I can't say I made informed decisions, but that's due to the conflict of my time. It was hard to think about things like that with a war on the horizon. Although, Dan looked handsome in his militant vest," Tsunade chuckled at her own sly comment. She swigged another full cup of plum wine empty, then refilled.

"Who was thinking about raising families, falling in love, having peaceful futures? Most of us prayed we would survive the war. You have it different, and you can really address that question. Uncertainty is fine for a time. Eventually, you need to make a decision or time…will make it for you."

Tsunade finished her cup and offered Sakura the bottle again. Sakura finished hers, uncertain how many she had by now. The night was falling, and the sunset performed its finale with watercolor fury. The view was breathtaking from the back window of the Hokage office.

"I think I understand," Sakura replied. "If that's the case, where do you start trying to fall in love again?"

Tsunade snorted a laugh. The heaviness of the conversation faded to their usual jovial tone. "You don't go looking for it, you silly kunoichi. If you look for it, you won't find it."

Sakura puffed, now annoyed by the cryptic answer. "That's amazingly unhelpful." Tsunade's smile went to a full-blown grin.

"Any boys you find attractive would be good starters for fielding candidates," Tsunade joked. She hoisted her legs on the desk like a footrest. The weighted shift caused the swivel chair to whine, and Tsunade leaned back hands cradling the back of her head. Hokage Building After Hours was now "open."

"Do you find yourself lingering on looking at a guy a little longer than usual? Do you find yourself consciously or unconsciously touching any particular one at any given time?"

Sakura scrunched her nose. "Are you trying to get gossip out of me?" Tsunade started to full throaty laugh.

"No," she wiped her eyes, full of brazen, champagne mirth. "I promise I'm trying to help you."

Sakura took in her a long moment and thought. "No," she said with dismay.

In the spirit of delicious, vintage plum wine, jumbled cognitive synpases mingled with repressed thoughts. Dislodged memories tumbled out of her leaving a trail of moments, all mounting together as an underlying attraction. She was 12, and it was someone much older than her. Through the years she dismissed the feeling to be the older brother type; albeit, her own reactions seemed to indicate she enjoyed the attention. She would convince herself it was because of friendship, or the praise of a teacher.

She remembered each time he touched her. Each time he protected her. There was a gentleness in his motions that often betrayed his apathetic caricature. His sarcasm invited playful banter and often spiced humor in more bleak situations. In the deep of who he was, there was a tenderness that seemed distant and restrained. The glimpses of this part of his personality were hard to catch, especially with the quarrelsome duo that was Naruto and Sasuke.

It was this quality, the quiet tenderness, that Naruto lacked for her attraction. To her chagrin, it was also the imagined idealization of Sasuke. Sasuke's cold, controlled exterior held no warm, loving interior deep within. The warmth she would often mistake for affection, typically was the flickering of bottled rage. If Sasuke had an affectionate side, it was fragmented and far from generous. Affection from him felt more like pleasing himself than pleasing a partner.

She broke the inner monologue to finally answer. "No one I touch, at least."

Tsunade arched both eyebrows. The on and off grin turned into a full-time catlike curvature of lips. "Oh ho? Sakura?"

Sakura contemplated how to disclose this. Would it be incriminating to admit you had intrusive thoughts of your teacher, the only influential figure that showed you any respect? How in the times she desperately desired, loved, and tried for Sasuke, he was in the background to pick her back up from rejection? Or, in some cases, bat down Naruto's over-enthused, loud, and forceful flirtations. As puberty slammed mood bending hormones in her system, she found herself dubious of her judgment. Was this attraction or just appreciation for being treated fairly?

"There is someone, but I didn't consider him at first," she confessed. "I was…a little too involved with Sasuke. He was always there, though. Every time, when he could, he was."

Tsunade immediately ruled out Naruto on her tone alone.

"I was very young then," she conceded. "And he…much older."

There was a long pause between the two.

Tsunade rocked her chair, its wooden squeals a welcome humor to the situation. The wine bottle empty, amplifying the fading sunlight in its glass shape. She drummed interlaced fingers, dancing in rivulets of molten gold that was her hair in the twilight. A habit she picked up when thinking deeply.

Tsunade was contemplating the pros and cons how to advise this; encourage it, not knowing how much older? Or air caution?

She was already offering the scrappy teenager some prime alcohol. Sakura was beautiful and, gods be damned, the world traditionally catered to the bold and the cunning. So -

"Why not." Tsunade finally said. "Why not explore that one a little further?"

Sakura shifted, her brows furrowed. "Explore? What does that even mean?"

"Think of him the way you used to think of Sasuke."

"It isn't clear when I think of him that way. It just feels weird because I'm used to Sasuke, and anyone else feels... I don't know."

Tsunade slipped her feet off the desk. The chair gave a loud hoot as tension broke and it resumed its usual vertical position. Tsunade raised herself up, hands now freed and started to put away the papers she had finished long ago. It was time to head home. "There's always another way," Tsunade said with an impish smirk, a very sadistic twinkle in her eye. The fluttering of papers went on through their conversation.

Sakura assisted in the cleanup. She gathered both their cups and started to collect the mess of bottles on the floor, including the one they killed off together. She didn't seem fazed by Tsunade's audacity anymore; the wine had relaxed her senses completely. "Let's hear it," Sakura confidently replied.

"If the every day things don't give you clarity, there's one thing for sure that will. See if he brings you to climax," Tsunade said nonchalantly as if she was describing a mundane chore.

Sober Sakura would have given Tsunade a double take for this advice. Drunk Sakura, however, seemed to be zen with the lewd suggestion.

She was lost in her thoughts as Tsunade chattered away. She would occasionally check in the vocalized stream of consciousness to make mention of her attendance. Her mind would dip in, picking up a word here and there: "how to organize the right skill set and team," and "I need to learn how to minimize the need for paperwork," or "how many clauses can one contract fit into its own proviso", and make an offhand remark about administration. Before Sakura knew it, they blithely tied up the office. Then they were down the stairs. Then they were outside, ready to go their separate ways. The world had somehow taken on a fast-forwarding effect.

She snapped out of her trance as Tsunade was speaking the last complaints of her day. When she returned down to the planet, Sakura had fully processed their conversation.

She wasn't sure whether or not she'd cry out his name in her pillow in the sheets, but there was something there. She didn't need to wonder whether she cared for this man, because she always had. She just never admitted it with Sasuke blocking the view. She had a lot to think about – innocently and not so innocently – before deciding to go down this dangerous path. She was his former student, and there was undoubtedly some mandate somewhere about student-teacher relations.

As Tsunade waved to her, Sakura glanced up at her Hokage and bravely asked before departure: "Lady Tsunade," she slurred in her alcoholic euphoria. "If you don't mind, I am going to need some supervision with transformation chakra."

Tsunade had a mischievous expression on her face; she could put two and two together. She nodded and disappeared into the night towards the lit paths of Konoha west.

Sakura turned to Konoha east. Her thoughts, by habit, usually went to the Uchiha fugitive. Tonight, they decided a fun detour. Instead of hushed whispers, raven hair, and Sound territory, Sakura's mind rested like a carefree autumn leaf on the page of a book. Its owner reading voraciously, glued to its words as if it were his scripture and he the disciple. She wondered what laid in them. She was probably old enough to buy them to find out. Or, she could just forcefully borrow his. The latter seemed more of a fun pastime than the former if she were honest.

Indeed, field missions would be interesting in the next few months.