Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
The damage done to the village was even worse than Anko had feared, as the ANBU agents behind her dispersed and melted into the sea of tents and makeshift wooden shelters (obviously courtesy of Yamato), as the son rose over the horizon and a pale, butter yellow light coated everything in its weak glow.
Anko herself walked on more slowly, her feet reluctant and her heart and mind heavy as she traversed the huge impact crater and descended into what was left of Konohagakure, as the survivors of the Akatsuki's attack began to wake up, their sore bodies rising from the earthen ground.
For the past few weeks of chasing shadows and grasping at every lead she could, Anko had dreamed, every night in which she could find slumber, of returning to Konoha. She had dreamt of home like a man in the desert dreamt of the ocean, a sweet, recurring dream that lingered on in the borders of her consciousness and sustained her through the long, lonely hours. It had been the only thing Anko had to look forward to.
But then, news of the attack came. Anko's already uneasy sleep was punctuated with horrific nightmares and fear of what she would find when she came back. A preliminary casualty report Anko had received while out in the field had made it to where Anko almost didn't want to come back.
Now, she was home again, and found a place she no longer knew. Anko would only be back in Konoha for a few days, and already she wanted to leave.
Silently, Anko walked up a high street formed by smooth white tents and flimsy wooden structures, voices filtering through rice paper walls. They were garbled and muffled, and Anko was glad she couldn't make out the words; listening to the conversations of others made her feel like a voyeur, and she despised the sensation of violating the privacy of those she called comrades.
Hazel eyes searched desperately for something, anything that was familiar. A rock in the flowing sand. A familiar face in a crowd of strangers.
But there was nothing, nothing that Anko could hold on to, nothing that could prove to her that it was really Konoha that she had come home to, and not just a refugee's hideout. She felt like she was floating through a sea of shadows, and there was no light anywhere.
It didn't feel like home anymore. It felt like Anko was treading on graves with every light-footed step, and Konoha was more a burial ground than a village.
She sighed, walking around aimlessly, wondering if she could apply to head back out into the field early. At least there, Anko wouldn't be plagued and haunted by the ghost of a gutted village and the ghosts of its fallen. She wasn't sure that there was anything left in Konoha for her.
The front door to a large wooden structure opened behind Anko, the only sign of life beyond soft voices emanating from the tents in the early morning.
Anko tilted her head and frowned, as a small, slender hand slipped around the edge of one of the double doors, pressing it open. A slight-framed figure slipped out from behind the doors.
Anko gaped.
"Shizune?"
Dark brown eyes met hazel ones, as Anko stared in naked shock at the woman before her.
Shizune looked drained and tired, her already pale face white and strained, the front of her yukata done a little more loosely than usual. She stood, ill at ease with her scrawny back straight and rigid, with her long bangs hanging down over coal black, finely marked eyebrows.
"Welcome back, Anko," she intoned quietly, her voice oddly dull, trying to smile but not quite persevering enough.
Anko didn't, at the moment, notice that. She was a bit busy spluttering at the sight of her young friend. "What…How…Your name was on the damn casualty list!"
She nodded, face still pulling up a blank. "Yes."
"Bloody hell…Whoever whips those things up ought to be fired, 'cause you sure don't look dead to me."
Shizune's face colored, and she looked away. "It's complicated," she murmured. "You see—"
Shizune was abruptly cut off by Anko pulling her into a death grip of a hug, who muttered, "I don't think I've ever been so relieved to find out that someone I thought was dead is actually alive."
Anko heard a soft voice right by her ear, murmuring, "You missed the memo, then."