"Always acting like a fool who only knows one thing… Hokage, Hokage. I'm sorry Naruto… that impossible dream of yours… I don't want to see it crushed!"
There was a headache building in the center of her forehead but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she focused on reading the seemingly endless mission report lying on her overly large desk. She sighed, once again unable to concentrate on the mundane paperwork, as she looked around the room. She had never wanted to be Hokage and yet, she found herself surrounded by the opulent trappings of her office.
The elaborately carved desk had been in use since Hashirama Senju, the very first Hokage of Konohagakure, was in office. It had survived more than one ninja war, a jinchuuruki attack and several direct attacks on the village proper. Perhaps it was petty of her to begrudge the desk its survival through events that had claimed the lives of so many of her fellow ninja – each death of someone near and dear to her had ripped a new hole in her heart. No amount of medical ninjutsu had prevented her from outliving most of her classmates and no matter how busy the hospital staff was kept, she knew she would continually be losing more of her comrades each day.
Brushing the strands of her pale hair over her shoulder, she studied her own hands. They were small and delicate, completely at odds with the power that most of the world knew was contained within them. Her hands were meant to heal, meant to help, meant to protect. Yet, she was confined to this tower, playing the delicate political games of ruling a village of assassins while others shed blood so she would keep wearing the wide brimmed hat emblazoned with the kanji for Fire. She had learned medical jutsu in order to keep her precious people alive, but she had precious few left dear to her. The ninja war had taken a heavy toll even on a village as large as Konoha, not to mention the destruction left from Orochimaru's attack on the Sandaime.
The Hokage's face twisted as she contemplated her former teammate in Sound. Thirty years ago, she had been naïve in thinking that hope and hard work would be the means to change the world. Although she retained the same youthful look over the years, her spirit had become jaded. She pulled open desk drawer and easily lifted the false bottom up in order to access an array of hidden sake jars. Pausing to select one that was fit for her nostalgic mood, she roughly pushed her chair away from the desk and walked, saucer and bottle in hand, to the balcony overlooking the village she had been entrusted with.
Pouring a small amount, she hesitated for only a moment before tossing the contents of the saucer back. The warmth of the sake running down to her stomach was one of the only comforts she had remaining these days and even Shizune would overlook her drinking a glass or two each day. A breeze rifled through the twin ponytails she had fastened her hair in, cooling some of the flush that was already creeping up her face from the alcohol. Setting her drink on the railing, Hokage-sama straightened her hair once again, pausing to look at its dull, pale color with a wry expression on her face. As a young girl, she had been so proud of her hair. It had been lustrous, thick and long. In her childish fancy, she had imagined that her lover had always admired her hair. But her hair was thin and faded now, just as his memory was all that she had left – and even then, she kept that memory locked deep within her heart lest she be too emotional.
Letting go of her hair once again, she returned her attention to the alcohol perched precariously on the rail while her mind wandered back to decades past. She could almost imagine hearing the faint jingling of bells in the air as she recalled the first time her sensei had met their team after graduating from the Academy. Two bells and three fresh genin had been a recipe for disaster – one that many a jounin sensei had chosen to use over the years. Sandaime, Jiraiya, Kakashi… she wondered vaguely if the tradition would continue whenever Naruto was assigned a genin team before cutting off the thought abruptly, horrified at the potential disaster that assigning three easily-influenced children to the Number One Prankster would undoubtedly end up to be. As much as she hated having a fifty foot carving of her own face in stone (accurate even down to the detail of her diamond-shaped yin seal mid-forehead), she preferred not to have the addition of a beard and mustache painted on. The brat, for all his ranting and raving about becoming Hokage one day, had barely any respect for those currently in the office.
She took a long pull straight from the bottle as she once again was reminded of the reason she had accepted the position of Hokage – that blond was dangerously persuasive. He had somehow gotten her to agree to fill the vacancy in the office while he was free to gallivant about the country in search of the last Uchiha. Naruto had already proven himself to the village – although there were some who resented the Kyuubi container, there were more who acknowledged the legacy of the Yondaime Hokage. It wouldn't be too much longer before even Danzo would be unable to prevent her from naming Naruto as next in line to lead Konoha.
As it was, the old man had been a thorn in her side from the very beginning. Perhaps he had never truly let the resentment of being overlooked for the position of Hokage not once, but twice, fade away. He was sure to be close at hand whenever something untoward or a particularly delicate situation cropped up. She wondered vaguely if he somehow was tracking the movements of Utatane Koharu or Mitokado Homura, the self-proclaimed councilors of the Hokage. Or perhaps they were all in league together – the Sandaime's teammates had never been anything less than vocal about this disapproval of Naruto though they retained their privileged position only because her own teammates were unavailable to fill the role. One was out wandering about; the other was most likely in a hidden base belonging to Sound.
She moved to pour another saucer of sake for herself and was vexed to find the bottle already empty. Her tolerance to alcohol over the years had grown to the point where she didn't even feel a buzz now. Stomping back to her desk, intentionally making noise to broadcast her foul mood, she yanked another random bottle out of the drawer. She cracked the seal on it before mildly remarking, "You're late."
The Copy Ninja was standing in the middle of her office, his eye crinkled up as he greeted her with an informal, "Yo."
"You can just take your report straight to Shizune. I'm not in the mood to hear it right now," the Hokage's voice was devoid of emotion – the utter lack of feeling betraying how tenuous her control over her heart was right then.
"Maa… Aren't you even going to ask what kept me away so long?" Kakashi stated as the shadows on his mask shifted into what was probably an indulgent smile.
She outright snorted in response. "I don't want to know about what little old ladies you rescued from a tree or how many kittens you helped cross the street, Kakashi."
"So much bitterness, Hokage-sama. If you're not careful, you'll begin to age more quickly than you ought." Kakashi responded lightly.
"Not that you'll ever know," the Hokage shot back, turning and walking once more to the balcony. She fought to smooth her face into a neutral expression once more. There was no way for Kakashi to know exactly how many times she had used the Creation-Rebirth jutsu over the years nor how many years of her life she had lost as a result. The constant drain of maintaining her image to be in the twenties had ceased to be solely cosmetic – she couldn't afford to let the village know how soon her replacement would need to step into office without upsetting the delicate politics she had spent years maneuvering into place. Truth be told, the Hokage was dying faster than anyone suspected, though she wondered how much Kakashi had deduced with the aid of his stolen Sharingan.
She took another swig from the bottle in a decided un-Hokage-like manner, trying to derail her morbid thoughts and focus on the setting sun even as she felt Kakashi's presence join her on the balcony. Idly, she wondered if Shizune had sensed her mood and purposefully let him into her office. Though the brunette would often interrupt her reveries, Shizune was not above using Kakashi or even her own young apprentice to force her focus back to the present. The Hokage mused that since she knew her apprentice was still out on a mission, Kakashi had been Shizune's only option today.
They stood in companionable silence as the sun set slowly over the hidden village of leaves, joined in the mutual appreciation of the peace that was seldom found in their line of work. She idly traced out the symbols of a fireball jutsu she had not seen in many years due to her confinement to the administrative tower, pondering her next words.
"I sent a slug out yesterday."
The silence stretched out and street lights began to illuminate the darkening pathways below. The Hokage noticed that her bottle was once again empty, the stronger vintage finally beginning to have an effect as she felt the warm haze around the ends of her thoughts. Most likely it was the alcohol loosening her tongue, but it was too late to go back now.
"Naruto needs to return to the village. We've spent too long and come too far for it to all go to waste now," she continued, ignoring the way Kakashi's eye slid over to rest on her. "We have a majority of clan representatives on the council who will back my choice of successor and Danzo's reputation has never been as weak as it is now. Things have changed since I was inducted into office and its time that someone who has dreamed of being Hokage hold the mantle – goodness knows that I can only shoulder this weight for so long."
It was an admission she would never have made in the presence of someone she trusted less. She was Hokage, the symbol of strength for her people. Over the years, she had come to be listed as S-class in bingo books far and wide as part of the Legendary Three, the slug summoner with chakra-enhanced strength who used medical ninjutsu on the battlefield. Her teammates were listed too, with many uncertain details other than their snake and frog summons. Their mentors had believed them to be complements to one another, to be everything the previous generation had failed to live up to. But their alliance, like the ones before them, had shattered all too soon.
In the silence between them, the unsaid words hung heavily in the air. It had been a high stakes gamble to induct a placeholder Hokage – the price had been steep for them all. She had married herself to the village and adopted the shinobi within as her children. The demands of her office had prevented her from any biologic heirs even as her fallen classmates were survived by newly matriculating academy students. But she didn't regret the choices she had made and the cards were all on the table now; it was time to show their hand.
"I'm sending you to fetch him, Kakashi," she continued, in a milder tone tinged with heavy emotion. "Tell him the truth if you must, but bring him back as soon as you can."
The copy ninja nodded once in acknowledgment of the mission assignment and in a move that was out of character, hesitated for a heartbeat as he gazed at the weary young girl beside him. She turned her green eyes to his dark one and gave him a sad little smile.
"I hope you'll forgive me for leaving before you, Kakashi-" she spoke barely above a whisper and the wind of his departure almost muffled the end, "-sensei".
Sakura turned and returned to room slowly, her head filled with memories of her own shishou – wondering if Tsunade had gone about the preparation for the Rokudaime's induction with as heavy a heart. Twenty years had passed, but Sakura still ached at the loss of the Godaime. Both women had known the consequences of the regeneration technique they had used, and both would willingly pay the heavy price. The cool air floating through the balcony doors hinted at the autumn to come, and Sakura tried in vain to remember what spring had felt like as she told herself it had all been worth it.