Chapter One
Sin
The inn was dingy and badly-lit. The cheap yellow wallpaper was peeling where it met the ceiling, and here and there were smears of what looked like old blood. There were uniform, angular scars in the plaster of the wall, as though projectiles or knives had been buried there before, and the place reeked of sweat, dirt, and guilt.
Sakura kept her distaste hidden behind an impassive mask as she shut the thick wooden door behind her. Her line of work frequently brought her through these kinds of establishments, but the young woman still felt a lingering aversion to the place, nonetheless.
She strode up to the front desk and rapped on the wood of the counter top twice. Within a few moments, a small, rat-like man had appeared from a dingy backroom, wiping his hands hurriedly on a ragged dish towel as he approached.
His gaze fell appraisingly upon Sakura, and her emerald eyes narrowed slightly as she observed it roaming across her form. After a long moment, he looked up and smiled lecherously.
"Welcome to my humble inn. How may I be of assistance?" His voice was oily and slippery, and Sakura had to fight back a disgusted shiver at the sound.
"I'm looking for someone." She said flatly.
The man's countenance changed suddenly, his eyes narrowing and his expression becoming guarded.
"Oh?" His tone was carefully neutral, no doubt kept that way by years of practice.
Sakura smirked. She had assumed correctly, that this particular inn was a popular hangout for criminals and missing nin; it was precisely what she had been looking for.
"Yeah. You wouldn't mind helping me out, would you?" She inquired innocently, leaning an elbow against the counter.
There was a pause, which to an outsider would have appeared a moment of indecision on the innkeeper's part. But Sakura had used the interlude to covertly slide a neatly folded bill under the corner of one of the man's accounting books.
The innkeeper's gaze darted around the empty foyer, before he covertly thumbed the bill, and slid it into the pocket of his apron.
"Who're you looking for?" He asked, his tone so low that a civilian would have had to strain to hear. His gaze was trained downwards towards his desk, and he was shuffling his papers around as though organizing them.
"Tsubasa." Sakura replied, casually examining her cuticles.
The innkeeper nodded curtly. He got at least a dozen people a week looking for the man in question.
Fumbling, he grabbed a pen, and scribbled an address onto a grubby scrap of paper. Slapping it down on the counter, he shoved it in Sakura's direction, keeping his eyes studiously trained downwards. The young woman observed the bead of sweat working its way down his temple, as she took the scrap between two fingers, and tucked it into a pouch hanging from her belt.
"I appreciate your assistance, sir." She said.
The man grunted noncommittally, obviously eager for her to be gone. Sakura echoed this sentiment, and within a few moments was out of the begrimed establishment, and onto the equally dirty streets.
Tetsumura was a large town in the northwestern corner of Grass Country. It had a reputation as a gambling and drinking den, and a hub for illegal trade and smuggling. It also happened to be Sakura's place of birth. Not that she felt much of a connection to the foul place.
It wasn't uncommon for orphans and refugee children from the smaller countries to end up in shinobi villages; things had been unsettled for decades before the war had broken out, and Sakura was just another casualty of that turmoil. But despite being from Grass, she had been living in Iwa for fourteen years, and barely remembered a life before the hidden village.
In any case, the only reason Sakura found herself in Tetsumura now was because of the town's reputation for harboring illegal trade; she was on a A-ranked mission to apprehend a merchant who was smuggling iron over the border into Fire. The man was supplying Konoha with sorely needed raw materials for weapons smithing, and it was vital that he be taken out.
Sakura reached into the pouch at her belt, and drew out the address the innkeeper had given her. It was in the Fireside District, one of the roughest in town—not that Sakura had anything to worry about; her forehead-protector would keep wise men away, and her devastating strikes would take care of the fools.
She set off down the street, her pace measured and her eyes sweeping her surroundings vigilantly. Night was just beginning to fall, and the more nefarious characters, who had kept to the shadows in daytime, were peeking out of their burrows.
The streets were narrow, and of nothing more than packed dirt. The smell of urine and cheap whiskey was predominant, and even as twilight descended, no lanterns were lit. This was the kind of town that thrived on darkness.
In mere minutes, Sakura found herself venturing into the heart of the city; the Fireside District rose up around her, crumbling walls and abandoned warehouses looming. Scantily-clad women leaned against door frames, the tips of their cigarettes glowing against the thickening darkness, as off-duty 'workmen' yelled crude propositions from the street. Sakura passed three men engaged in a fight, and as she watched, one was knifed in the gut, his pained gurgle abruptly cut off as the third man slit his throat.
By this point, the young kunoichi would have taken to the roofs, had they been sturdy enough: but most were of nothing more than thin aluminum, and she didn't trust them to hold up to her weight. Once or twice she encountered trouble from a drunken vagrant or someone who thought to rob her. In the first case, a flash of the kunai was enough to drive the idiot off. With the second man, a punch to the throat and a hearty shove into a brick wall—which may or may not have cracked upon impact—was sufficient to convince him to leave her alone.
Sakura located the address easily enough. It was an abandoned warehouse near the edge of town, and as she approached, she could make out a very faint glow from inside, as if a candle were lit. The door to the warehouse was locked, but with a bit of chakra to enhance her strength, it took merely a single push to send it flying open, revealing the room beyond.
The warehouse was brightly lit inside, candles and stained-glass lamps hanging from the rafters above. Obviously the windows had been muffled, otherwise the glow would have been unmistakable from the outside. The floor was polished wood, and draped with woven rugs and animal skins. The smell of liquor and smoke filled the air, and a soft buzz of sophisticated conversation accompanied the scent. Across the room, dozens of tables were set up, at which well-dressed gentlemen and ladies were gambling away stacks of ryo large enough to make Sakura's throat go dry.
Sakura was approached by a well-groomed man in a traditional kimono, who was obviously a servant of some kind.
"Welcome, Madam. What may I do for you this evening?"
The man's tone was perfectly polite, but his gaze swept over Sakura—in a very different manner than the innkeeper's had—and his expression grew stony as it lingered on her forehead-protector.
"I'm here to see Tsubasa." Sakura said, keeping her tone soft and moving closer so as to avoid drawing the attention of the wealthy patrons nearby.
The man nodded curtly, seeming to have expected this.
"If you will follow me, Madam."
He led her to the back of the warehouse, where an elegant bar was set up, and then into a back area which had been partitioned off from the gambling den. A mahogany desk sat in the corner, and several bookshelves—containing mostly accounting ledgers—lined the walls. It was brightly-lit, with several lamps and candles scattered across the room.
A good-looking man in his early forties was sitting behind the desk, intently reading a scroll spread out across the surface. He looked up as the servant knocked on the partition to make their presence known.
As he stood, Sakura probed his chakra, and was unsurprised to find that, although barely above genin level, the man's reserves implied that he was a shinobi—most likely a missing nin past his prime. He was quite handsome, with aristocratic features, neatly-trimmed hair and a groomed goatee, and was dressed in well-fitted, elegant clothing, rings gleaming from three of his fingers.
Sakura inclined her head politely, and he smiled warmly at her in response.
"Thank you, Shiro. You may go." He told his servant. The man bowed low, before leaving Sakura alone in the makeshift office.
"May I offer you some tea...?"
He trailed off meaningfully, obviously fishing for a name. Sakura regarded him with flat eyes, her expression encouraging no further pleasantries. He chuckled slightly.
"I see. You're evidently here on business. Well then, what can I do for you?"
Tsubasa sat back down behind his desk, folding his arms across his stomach comfortably, and gesturing at the chair across the table. Sakura ignored the invitation, and remained standing.
"I require information." She said.
"That's generally the reason I find shinobi on my doorstep." The man said dryly, regarding her with sharp dark eyes.
"It's about the merchant, Magumi Akito."
"I know of him."
Sakura reached into her pouch and drew out a scroll, ignoring the way Tsuabasa's hands strayed under his desk at her movement, as though to be ready to draw a weapon. She crossed the room, and set it down on his desk.
"This is a statement from the Tsuchikage, informing you that your assistance with this matter is considered to be of the utmost importance to Iwa. You will be compensated, I assure you."
Tsubasa cracked the scroll, and there were a few minutes of silence as he read it. Sakura stood still with her arms clasped loosely behind her back, years of discipline serving to make her patient. After a short time, the man looked back up at Sakura, his expression suddenly calculating.
"Magumi is a very influential trader in Tetsumura, as I'm sure you're aware. If I were implicated in his...accident, things could get very complicated for me."
Sakura met Tsubasa's eyes steadily, her emerald gaze never wavering. After a moment of silence, she gave him a sweet smile, in stark juxtaposition to her next words.
"Well, Tsubasa-san, I could always gut you and rifle through your filing cabinets, but I try to avoid that sort of behavior whenever possible. I'm sure you would agree that your cooperation would be mutually beneficial."
The man stared at her for a few seconds, before throwing back his head and laughing heartily. His broad shoulders quaked with mirth and his brilliant white teeth flashed, as his guffaws slowly died down to quiet chuckles. A small, polite smile was still fixed across Sakura's face, as he met her gaze once more.
"You Iwa kunoichi." He snorted. "Never met a damned one of you who wasn't terrifying enough to get a grown man to piss himself."
Sakura's smiled widened slightly at this, and the man sighed.
"Alright then, I suppose you make a convincing argument. I have Magumi's schedule and trade route on file. If I recall, he's leaving for Fire Country tomorrow morning."
Tsubasa rose, and moved to one of the cabinets behind his desk. He located the file he was looking for quickly enough, and handed it to Sakura without any lingering hesitation.
"I expect that I will be contacted within the next week?"
The question was worded politely enough, but there was a warning undercurrent to it.
"Iwa shinobi keep their word."
The man chuckled darkly.
"I've yet to see evidence of that in my lifetime."
Sakura's beryl eyes sharpened, and for a moment there was total silence as they regarded one another warily.
"I do, at any rate." She said at last.
The man stared at her for a moment longer, before nodding slightly.
"Well then, I wish you a safe journey." He said, rising and bowing to her politely.
Sakura spared him a curt nod, and when he moved to escort her out of his office, she shook her head.
"I can see myself out." She said shortly.
Tsubasa fell back, his dark eyes focused on her so intently that it was only years of training which kept Sakura from squirming. His gaze never wavered as she exited his office, and the back of her neck continued to prickle, even as she slipped out of the warehouse and onto the darkened streets.
Magumi Akito rose with the sun. His caravan departed Tetsumura at half past five, the horses' hooves muffled with cloth, and the boys obediently sitting in the back of the wagon in complete silence. He was always cautious with these things; after all, if it were ever discovered that he was smuggling raw materials over the border into Konoha, no doubt Iwa would send an assassin within the fortnight.
Magumi had three sons, and his wife had died giving birth to his youngest. He had been quite poor, before he had set up a trade agreement with the Hokage, and now he was well-to-do, and had a large house on the outskirts of Konoha, just waiting for his return. This trip was to be his final traverse between Grass and Fire, and he was grateful to finally be moving his children from the war-ravaged Kusa, to a safe and stable home in the hidden village.
Very little of this, of course, was included in the mission briefing, which Sakura was skimming one last time from her position wedged in the fork of a tree branch overlooking the road. It was only the necessary information; nothing more, nothing less.
Level 4 Security Clearance
Name: Magumi Akito
Age: 39
Occupation: Merchant
Physical Description: Photograph Enclosed
Last Known Location: Tetsumura, Kusa
Deadline for Completion: 5/14
Mission Level: A
Sakura only knew the bit about Magumi smuggling over the border because she had bullied one of the Chunin down at the intelligence office into handing over a more detailed file.
She was somewhat unique, in that she generally tried to garner information about her targets before eliminating them. Most shinobi her rank had gotten to the point where they were jaded enough to realize that sometimes it was best not to know; but Sakura was young, and although she would never freely admit it, Magumi was to be only her second hit ever. The first had been an opium dealer who had been responsible for the rapes and murders of over twenty women. Sakura had had very few reservations about ending that particular life.
Banishing these thoughts, she rolled up the scroll, resealing it and tucking it into her pack. Now was not the time to be distracted; Magumi and his wagon full of smuggled goods would be appearing over the crest of the hill any minute now.
Her estimation was very accurate: it was barely five minutes before Sakura sensed chakra signals approaching from the direction of Tetsumura. As the signals drew closer, Sakura frowned: Magumi was not alone. Of course, she had been prepared for this, in the event that the man had hired guards. However, the signals were not the controlled, steady ones that would belong to shinobi, nor were they even the smaller, wilder chakras of mercenaries. In fact, as the signals drew closer, and the wagon came into view over the hill, Sakura could have sworn that the signals were weak and small enough to belong to young children.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced all other thoughts away. She couldn't be letting her mind wander.
As the wagon drew closer, Sakura reached into her holster and withdrew a kunai.
"Surudoi me no jutsu," She whispered, flashing through a couple of hand signs, and then blinking slightly as her vision blurred and then sharpened, zooming in on the wagon like a telescope lens.
Sitting at the head of the wagon, guiding the tired-looking horse pulling it, was Magumi Akito. There was no mistaking it; Sakura had gotten dozens of descriptions from the man's contacts and acquaintances, and she had studied several photographs of him.
She took a deep breath in, and then let it out after several seconds, feeling the air fill and then rush out of her lungs. Patience. She needed to wait for precisely the right moment to strike.
It came soon enough. As the horse passed under the tree branch, she drew back her arm in one fluid, soundless movement, and released the kunai. It streaked out of her grip, and flashed through the air in a blur of silver, to bury itself in Magumi's throat in a spray of scarlet.
The man slumped over the reins, and the horse reared in panic at the smell of blood. The wagon came unhitched, and rolled into a ditch on the side of the road.
Sakura's blood ran cold as she heard the cries of panic from within the wagon. The cries of children. Her muscles froze with indecision, as she watched the three boys scramble from the ruined wagon, one of them limping slightly. The oldest couldn't have been more than ten—not even old enough to be a genin, really.
The oldest was the first to spot their father, lying slumped against the driver's seat of the wagon. He pointed at him wordlessly, and the two other boys turned to look. The youngest wasn't a day over five, by Sakura's reckoning. Suddenly she felt very ill.
Her remorse—only worsened as the three children crowded around their father, the two youngest crying out and sobbing, and the oldest remaining silent and impassive—was quickly replaced by anger, as she remembered the mission briefing tucked into her belt at this very moment. Of course it hadn't said anything about the man being a father of three, nor of Sakura having to dispatch the poor bastard in front of his own kids.
Most Iwa ninja wouldn't have cared, she supposed. After all, to shirk one's duty was the highest form of betrayal, and it would have been a disloyalty to the village to refuse the mission, no matter who the target was.
She inwardly sighed, rubbing a gloved hand across her forehead in consternation. What was she going to do about the brats? Her conscience wouldn't simply allow her to leave them on the side of the road to be swept up by bandits or to die of exposure. Nor could she take them back to Tetsumura; three kids like them wouldn't stand a chance out on the streets.
She felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.
The approaching chakra signals were what made up her mind. If the children were to be found by anyone, their fate would be out of her hands; and she couldn't stick around the scene of the crime.
With a single leap, she landed silently on the road below, her mask now firmly fixed in place.
"Hey. Kids."
The three all whirled around to face her. The oldest looked wary, and the other two were simply sniffling and moaning loudly, their grief-stricken utterances almost making Sakura wince.
"Follow me." She ordered, her tone brooking no argument.
The youngest of the kids hesitantly took a step towards her, only to have his elder brother grab him by the sleeve.
"Teuchi, don't."
The oldest kid was looking her up and down, and his searching gaze landed on her forehead-protector. His eyes widening, he looped his arms around his two brothers, gathering them close to his sides.
"She's an Iwa shinobi." He whispered, obviously thinking that only his brothers could hear him.
Sakura inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. So the kid hadn't put two-and-two together, and determined that it had been her kunai which had ended his father's life.
"There are bandits coming from the direction of Tetsumura." She said, keeping her voice free of inflection.
More likely they were just harmless merchants or a group of travelers, but she needed the leverage.
"I'm here to protect you." She felt bile rise in her throat at the lie. She was here to do anything but; she had just ruined their lives. "Please follow me off the road, where I can explain things more clearly."
Sakura wasn't stupid. She knew there was very little she could do for these children; their father's allegiance had been with the wrong village, and as such she was committing something very close to treason by helping them.
The boy looked indecisive, his gaze shifting back and forth between her and the road ahead.
"Okay." He said at last, his eyes still fixed on her like a hawk's.
Sakura nodded.
"Then please follow me and do your best to be quiet."
As they headed into the forest, Sakura winced at the cacophony created by three young boys tromping through underbrush. The fact that the younger of the two were still moaning and sniffling and loudly asking their brother where their father was didn't help either.
Luckily, they weren't trying to avoid any shinobi, so Sakura didn't have to be unduly worried about the racket. But still; it would have been almost physically painful for any trained ninja to listen to their blunders.
When they had been walking for twenty minutes, and the younger boys had begun to complain about scratches on their legs and soreness of their feet, Sakura halted in a large, circular clearing. Throughout the whole walk, her thoughts had been moving at a million miles an hour, and she still had yet to produce a viable solution for the situation.
She turned around the face the boys, crossing her arms over her chest, and ignoring the way her heart wrenched at the little ones' tear-streaked faces.
This was her fault.
"Alright, kids. Where's your mother?"
"She's dead." The oldest said flatly, as his brothers clung to either side of his pants. His expression was defiant as he looked up at Sakura.
The girl nodded, unsurprised. She had been expecting that. But before she could speak again, the kid had cut her off.
"Who killed our dad? Was it a shinobi?"
"Yes." Sakura said softly. She couldn't admit to them that she had been the one to dispatch their father; if she did, she would lose their fragile trust, and with it any chance of offering them help. So she improvised, all the while feeling her heart sink lower with every untrue word leaving her lips. "I'm an Iwa hunter nin. That means I hunt down rogue shinobi who are a danger to my village."
This wasn't a complete lie; in actuality, Kiri and Kumo were the only hidden villages which had hunter-nin corps; all the others used ANBU for that sort of dirty work. But it wasn't like these kids had intimate knowledge of the inner workings of a hidden village.
"I was after a missing shinobi from my village, and I tracked him to Tetsumura. I had just caught up with him about a mile from here, but he managed to slip away. When I arrived on the scene, he had already killed your father."
"Why would he do that?" The boy demanded, his voice rising with a note of hysteria. "What did Dad ever do to him?"
Sakura held up a hand, ignoring the lead-like feeling in her stomach.
"Calm down, alright? I don't know; maybe your father saw him, and the rogue was afraid he would report him to Iwa. Or maybe he was just in the way; sometimes missing nin will kill someone just because they're in the way."
And sometimes ordinary shinobi will kill someone just because they picked the wrong side, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She pushed it away.
"What was his name? Where can I find him?" The boy demanded, a fire kindling in his eyes as he looked up at Sakura.
"Kid, you can't go chasing after an S-class missing ninja. He would kill you just as easily as he did your dad. Besides, what would your brothers do without you?" The woman asked lowly.
The boy glanced at his brothers guiltily. They were both still clinging to his clothing, the youngest dribbling snot out of one nostril, and the middle child hiding his face in the boy's side.
"What we need to focus on is getting you to safety. Do you have anywhere you can go? Any relatives? An aunt, uncle, grandparent? Anyone who could take you in?"
The boy shook his head in response to every one of the offered options, and Sakura felt frustration mount within her, along with a touch of what felt suspiciously like hysteria. What was she going to do, adopt the three sons of the man she had just murdered in cold blood?
"Daddy has a house in Konoha." The youngest piped up, his voice almost indecipherable through a combination of mumbling and congestion.
Sakura nearly groaned. Of course, what had she been expecting? The only place for the boys to go would be Konoha, and no doubt the woman would be immediately seized the moment they crossed the border.
She wasn't particularly famous—or infamous, depending upon whose side you were on—as jounin went, nor was she in the Konoha Bingo Book. But her pink hair was distinctive, and her Iwa forehead-protector would be a dead giveaway in any case.
The war was technically over. It had been technically over for three years, but that meant very little in the shinobi world. Although all the open combat was over, the world of shadows and espionage was as ravaged by violence as ever. Konoha and Iwa, despite having worked out a peace treaty, were still constantly at each others' throats, and always vying for an advantage—as Sakura's mission at the moment was evidence of.
Running a hand over her porcelain mask, Sakura sighed expansively. She had made her choice the moment she had dropped from her safe perch in the tree branches and spoken to the three boys. Although the kunoichi liked to think of herself as hardened by the war, she knew she was still painfully soft and empathetic. She thought, in her own twisted way, that perhaps getting the boys to safety would atone for some of the sin of killing their father. And the idea of atonement was all-too appealing to the young woman, who felt her throat clench as she looked down at the three children, huddled together and utterly alone in the world.
"Okay. Konoha it is, then." She said at last.
A/N Obviously this is an AU. I may mess up the timeline slightly (in terms of character ages), but I suppose since this is an AU, I'm allowed some creative license. After all, so much is screwed up about the characters already, I'm not sure if I should even make a pretense of trying to salvage canon...
