Title: Tomorrow
Rating: T
Pairing: None (mentions SasuSaku)
Summary: Tomorrow, she will swear her oaths in front of the entire village, will have thousands witness her promise herself to the job. But tonight, she makes her vows to them.
Beta Reader: Not beta-read, check back at a later date for edits.
AN: I relly thought I posted this ages ago...apparently not! Anyhow, I don't know what the future of Boruto is going to bring, so for now I guess this fits only into my headcanon. I've tried to keep everything as vague as possible so that it can be considered canon for as long as possible, but we'll see.
Although all recognizeable characters, situations and premises are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media, the individual plots of these fics and all original characters are © KuriQuinn (2002-2016). Although I make no money from their existence, I will hound you to the ends of the Internet if you steal from me because it's still my intellectual property. If you want to borrow, ask my permission first.
The night before the inauguration ceremony, Sarada does not sleep.
She stares at her bedroom ceiling, maddeningly awake, her thoughts skipping so quickly from one to the other that she can't hold onto them. It's as fruitless as trying to clutch a handful of sand in her fist while the grains slip between her fingers, and just as frustrating.
Eventually, she gives up and slips out of bed, pausing only briefly to lean over and press a brief kiss to the bare shoulder of her lover; there's a low murmur of response, but Sarada remains alone in her wakefulness.
She reaches for clothing that was tossed haphazardly to one side hours before—she's not even completely sure it's hers, but doesn't care to use her Sharingan to find out. Instead, she pulls on the garments and pads from the room in the light of the too-full moon.
Sarada sighs, feeling as aimless as she did when she was eight years old, and yet as world-weary as if she were eighty. The night feels too quiet to her, but somehow she also wants solitude.
If Mom were here, she'd know what to say, she thinks, because her mother always knows what to say. But Uchiha Sakura is at the hospital tonight, called in on an emergency medical procedure. It would be a simple trip across the village for Sarada to seek her out, to try to explain the growing nervousness she's beginning to feel. And somehow, even if Mom was elbows deep in someone's chest cavity, she would probably still smile at Sarada and offer her the same words and comfort as when she was little.
Not that I'd do that, because it would be totally unprofessional, Sarada decides. As for Dad…
She exhales sharply and shakes her head.
Even if he were here, he wouldn't understand what she's going through. He was never Hokage.
And much as he tried, comforting people we never his area of expertise, she adds, smiling ruefully and lightly touches her forehead.
She nods to herself, decisive. She hasn't been a child for years now, and if she's going to do her job properly, at some point she's going to have to stop relying on her family as a safety net to comfort her.
She gazes out the living room window, studying the city that is lit by both moonlight and the buzzing downtown core. In the distance, a familiar building is almost dwarfed by the progress of the past decades, in front of the mountain emblazoned with familiar faces, and yet this structure is more important than all the rest.
Sarada nods to herself again, and heads for the door. If there's any place she should be tonight, she feels like it's that one.
サラダ
The Hokage's office is completely empty, devoid of most evidence of its previous occupant. Technically, no one is supposed to be in here until tomorrow morning, when she is officially led in by her predecessor and symbolically handed over the seat of power, but she slips inside nonetheless.
It's better than tossing and turning, and if anyone has a right to be here tonight, it's Sarada.
Though I'd better talk to the ANBU tomorrow about how easy it was to walk in here, she notes to herself.
Just because she's as good as she is at infiltration doesn't mean the city's black ops should be so lax in security.
She makes a slow, quiet procession through the officer, breathing the familiar air of the room and examining cracks in the wall. She's not sure whether they were put there by age or by Lady Tsunade. Or even her mother during spirited arguments with Uncle Kakashi or Uncle Naruto.
Or even me when Boruto was being a pain in the ass.
She smiles at the memories, able to recall with perfect clarity every moment she and her genin—and later chūnin and jōnin—teammates spent standing before the Hokage. Reaching out, she trails hands across the surface of the (unnaturally) clear desk, and traces her finger along the edge of the lone picture frame that remains on the desk.
It has been here since the tenure of Lord Sixth, and she has no intention of removing it, though her family has its own well-loved copy. She doesn't need to look at it to know the faces within, four of the most important people in her life grinning (or scowling) up at her.
See? No need to bother any of them tonight. They're always going to be watching over me anyhow, she tells herself as she slowly moves around the desk. She considers the chair there—a run-of the mill, squeaky and old thing that really is due for replacement—and then carefully slips into it.
Gingerly, she allows herself to relax into it, but is unable to suppress a shiver at the feel and the knowledge that after tomorrow, this will be hers.
Tomorrow.
She gives a shuddering sigh and leans forward, elbows on the desk, fingers threaded together. Resting her chin on the interlocking digits, Sarada closes her eyes and allows her thoughts to meander.
She thinks about the place of the Hokage, of what she has witnessed by her own eyes and through Boruto's words, and Mom and Dad's and Uncle Kakashi and Uncle Naruto's and Grandmother Tsunade's stories.
She thinks about the Will of Fire, and what it means. What being Hokage will mean not only to her and her family, but to Konoha. Of the life she will lead here, of the places and people and things she is giving up doing this job. As hard as it is to know there are certain things she will never experience, she knows that this job is worth that sacrifice.
But will I be enough?
Missions have brought her throughout the country, throughout the entire continent; she has seen so many walks of life, the mundane and the amazing, the ordinary and the unseemly. But is that enough experience? Will she be able to stand in the face of the unexpected, and not fall?
Something like panic lances through her.
What is she suppose to do if there's a war, or an attack from beyond the planet, or a natural disaster that dwarfs the efforts of her and her people?
She can imagine the voices of the people crying for help and what if she's inadequate to help them? What if one day she has to make a choice between which people to save and which to sacrifice?
What if she is expected to choose between a loved one and a stranger?
Can I make that right decision?
And even if she does, is she destined to break her heart doing it?
When Sarada opens her eyes, she feels as if the previous Kage are all looking down on her, waiting for her to answer that. In a way, they are, their portraits looming at her from across the room; Lord Second seems particularly judgemental.
Pushing back the chair with a tiny squeak, Sarada gets up and crosses the room. Standing in front of the painted portraits, she examines the faces of her predecessors. She only ever met three of these individuals, but they have all had a lasting affect on Konoha…and, somehow, on her personally.
She swallows, then squares her shoulders like Mom always does, narrows her eyes like Dad, and faces the judgement of the past. Tomorrow, she will swear her oaths in front of the entire village, will have thousands witness her promise herself to them.
But tonight, she makes her vows to them.
"Honorable Kage," she begins, starting respectful, and then frowns, because she sounds meek and fearful and not at all like herself. She continues, a little louder. "Tomorrow I'm going to become one of you. And I know I don't have as impressive a legacy as any of you did when you became Hokage. I'm still young, and I haven't seen half of what any of you did in your lives." She pauses, eyeing Uncle Kakashi and Uncle Naruto in particular. "But I think that qualifies me for this position in a way none of you ever were. Because I lived in a time of peace and safety. And I can't think of anything that is worth more protection than that. I can't imagine a life different from this one, and I don't want the people under my care to have to either."
She wets her lips, a little nervous now, and stands before Lord Hashirama's portrait.
"I promise I will protect those weaker than I, even though it might be contrary to the will of the daimyo or even my own heart, because I am the guardian of my people first, and a politician second," she tells his image. She knows of his strengths and weaknesses from history books and Grandmother Tsunade's bedtimes stories, and she knows that despite the peace he engineered, his rule was not perfect. "I will not be blinded by my esteem for friends and family, and I will nominate advisors and successors based on ability and the strength of their hearts. And I will not let the fears of others the future of Konoha."
She pauses, and then turns to the picture of Lord Tobirama.
"I will enforce the rules at all times and though I will take into account the spirit of a person's intentions, I will punish those who do not uphold the law," she tells him. "If I falter in this duty and break the law myself, I will submit to the judgement of the people who placed me in this office." Then her eyes narrow, and in a less formal voice, colder tone, she says, "And I will prove you wrong about the Uchiha, and ensure the distrust that you left to spread through this village never happens again."
She moves on to Lord Hiruzen.
"I will keep the Will of Fire burning in my heart, and use it to guide my actions and decisions, to protect all the children of our future," she promises. "And though I will take into account the recommendations of the leading members of this community, to live in a way that honours the village and our guiding spirit, I will not pander to the fear and restrictions of tradition when it comes to person or even a family's wellbeing."
Her thoughts fly to what Dad and Uncle Naruto told her of their childhoods, of the isolation they felt, all of which could have been different if this man had chosen to act.
To Lord Minato, she offers a simpler, yet powerful oath.
"I will act with humanity and kindness, in the interest of people and not in the interest of power," she tells him. "And if the time should come that I must, I will put my own life on the line to protect others, the way you did."
Grandmother Tsunade—Lady Tsunade—looks just as imposing as in life, a crease in her eyebrows that as always, challenges Sarada to do better.
"I will never ignore a cry for help," Sarada tells her firmly, "though I might suffer for it. The rich and the poor will be the same in my eyes, and if man or woman looks to me for salvation, I will not—can not—deny them. I will do everything in my power to help them."
Facing Lord Kakashi, she says, "I will be bound to operate within the law and not outside of it, and will not turn a blind eye to the wrongdoings of another. Even if it comes from within the office of the Hokage, the elders of the community…or a friend or family member."
She knows that his first months as Hokage were fraught with that exact challenge, and though he strained every loophole possible, he still adhered to the rules of the village and led with integrity.
"At the same time," she adds, hesitant, "I won't forget the lessons you taught me, and my parents and Uncle Naruto before me. I will never break the trust of those precious to me."
Standing before Lord Naruto, she can't help but smile. Because she learned the most about what it means to be Hokage from this man.
"My honour and word are both as strong as a mountain and as fragile as glass," she tells him. "For what I say is my bond, and stronger than any metal. But trust is easily broken and lost, and if I lose the trust of the people, I lose the privilege of leading them." Then she smirks at him and raises her fist out before her. "I will not run away, and I will never go back on my word. That is my nindō."
She faces him a second longer, and then turns to the eight frame; it's empty, a blank canvas waiting to have the next face emblazoned within its borders. Sarada smiles at this, imagining the image that will one day rest there, and lowers her fist.
She pauses, mouth dry, out of breath and heart racing, as if she's just finished a non-stop courier mission from here to Suna. Her entire frame shakes, stomach fluttering with nerves.
The silence in the offices is one of expectation and, somehow, consideration.
Is it her imagination, or does the wind that enters through the window whisper like voices of the past? The room feels too close, as if filled with people, and yet logically she knows she's the only one there.
And then suddenly there's a break, as if the whole room has stopped holding it's breath, and the tension slowly drains out of her body. She can't explain it, it's not conscious, but for some reason it feels almost like…
It feels like approval
There's a creak somewhere behind her, and she whirls around, Sharingan blazing to life at the possible threat, or perhaps just in reaction to being caught talking to a bunch of dead people. When she sees who it is, she pauses.
Boruto leans in the doorway, scarred and smirking in his usually roguish fashion. Behind him, Mitsuki's eyes gleam in the moonlight, brows raised in his familiar appraising yet teasing manner.
"I figured it would be you in here," Boruto says. "Can't wait to get started, huh? Already showing up early for the job?"
"Someone has to," Sarada quips, a feeling of warmth and happiness suffusing her at the sight of these two. They have laughed and fought and bled together, and for all of her promises to the previous Kage, she doesn't think she can do her best without these two pillars of support beside her. "Remind me to bitch at you tomorrow about how easy it was to sneak in here. Some protector from the shadows you are."
"Oi! You were supposed to be in bed, asleep! If I'm going to be keeping an eye on you, the least you could do is make it a little easier for me, believe it!"
"That would go against the nature of things," Mitsuki says mildly. He cocks his head to one side, studying her for a moment, and then asks, "Did you find what you were seeking here tonight?"
Sarada pauses, glances back at the portraits, and then smiles.
"I did," she says, feeling much calmer than earlier. But then she frowns. "But I still don't think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight."
"Ugh, there go my plans," Boruto complains.
They all head from the office together.
"Shall we get a hamburger, for old time's sake?" Sarada suggests. "I don't think I'll have as much time for that in the future."
"Don't be stupid, you'll always have time for hamburgers."
"Are they even open at this hour?" Mitsuki wonders. "I'd prefer just a cappuccino."
"Right, because you're much more sophisticated than the rest of us," Boruto complains, stretching his arms behind his head as he goes. "Forgot."
"Well, I am."
"You guys still drive me crazy," Sarada sighs, closing the door of the office behind her.
Their banter fades away from the moonlit office, leaving it once more quiet and undisturbed.
Somewhere in the unseen ether, the presences that witnessed the night's events and the oaths of an earnest young woman, muse that the future will be well-guarded indeed.
つづく
So, I don't know what the fate of Sasuke or Naruto will be, whether either of them will die or both, so I tried to keep things vague. And I don't really ship anyone with Sarada, so I tried to keep that open to interpretation too.
クリ