I know what y'all are thinking..."Finish a story before you publish a new one!"...but this hasn't left me alone for months so forgive me, please. Do note that this is a story about murder and mystery. There will be no overly detailed descriptions of gore or bodies or any such thing but if you want me to mark these passages please let me know! And, of course, I hope you enjoy the story. Review and let me know what you think!


Phyrric (adjective): (of a victory) won at too great a cost to have been worthwhile for the victor

Chapter 1

It was hot. Insects buzzed through the suffocating air as Sakura resisted the urge to wipe at the back of her neck, where sweat had gathered despite the fact she had pulled her long hair into a high ponytail. Her white sunglasses kept sliding down her nose, her entire face slick, and she contained a sigh, checking her phone once more. The white numbers read 2:13 PM, a full thirty minutes after her train had arrived. The battery was in the red zone and she tsked as she put it in "low power mode". Late, of course. Ino was almost chronically late.

The train station was deserted at the time of day where most people were taking shelter in their air-conditioned homes from the July heat. It was a small town, so the train station wasn't as busy as one in Tokyo would be.

She brought her cigarette to her lips again, letting the smoke leave her mouth slowly as she exhaled. Sakura eyed the lingering cloud, half-heartedly missing her small apartment in Tokyo. At least her small apartment there had been air-conditioned and stocked with cold water. She sipped at her lukewarm water at the thought, thinking wistfully of the ice cream she could buy once in town.

Just as the thought passed her mind, a blonde head came dashing into the station, electric eyes shining at the sight of Sakura on a bench, bags gathered around her bare legs. Sakura felt something in her breathe at the sight of Ino in jeans and a t-shirt, mouth wide open. The picture of home.

"Forehead!" she cried, waving frantically as though Sakura wouldn't be able to see her through the non-existent crowd. Nonetheless, she couldn't suppress a smile.

"You're late," she nagged, standing and slinging one of her smaller bags over her shoulder. She tossed her spent cigarette on the ground, grounding it beneath her heel.

Ino huffed, eyeing the cigarette butt but saying nothing as she lifted Sakura's suitcases up onto her shoulders with a roll of her eyes.

"Nice to see you, too. It's only been like 3 years," the blonde whined. Sakura smiled again, a little warmer this time, pulling the blonde into a short but tight hug.

"I missed you," she whispered. Ino's scent was familiar – vanilla and a mixture of flowers and soil. Sakura could smell her cigarette as well, the scents colliding and mixing in a way that she wasn't used to, but was still right. Her blonde hair was soft against Sakura's cheek.

Ino's hand rubbed her back and she could feel her friend's body relaxing against hers.

"You smell like cigarettes," Ino hummed, not distastefully. Sakura threw back her head and laughed, the sound carrying out the station, clear and strong.


With a promise to be back to help, Ino left Sakura staring at her grandmother's old apartment. A little dust had collected in the short two weeks since her death. She stood and stared at it for a little while, unwilling to move and disturb the nearly oppressive peace. The apartment was small but tasteful, with a nice couch and armchair, a small kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. It even had a near-unused study her grandmother only kept clean for Sakura's rare trips home.

Her grandmother's TV was brand new, a gift from Sakura for Christmas. She remembered the phone call that had followed it, her grandmother practically yelling to be heard over the festivities in the background.

"My favorite news anchor's face has never been uglier!" the woman laughed raucously. "I can see every flaw on his face!"

Sakura could see her grandmother's face as if it was right in front of her, the infamous Haruno eyes glittering, the face wrinkled with laugh lines.

In the background, Sakura could hear a glass shattering followed by scattered boos and cheers alike. She smiled softly. She was nearly positive she could pick out Naruto's voice. She drew her robe tighter around her slim frame, sucking in a breath of the cold morning air before taking a drag of her cigarette. Beside her, the coffee still steamed. She closed her eyes against the headache throbbing between her temples. She should've known it was too much champagne…

"Anyway, dear, how are you? Did you like your gift? It was my mother's and I thought it was time you had it," her grandmother said, a little quieter as she stepped outside, and the party sounds faded in the background.

Sakura exhaled. The beautiful pearl ring her grandmother had sent her glittered on her left hand and she considered it, splaying her fingers out in front of her, careful not to drop her cigarette.

"It's beautiful, Obaa-chan," she replied truthfully. "I love it."

"You sound tired, dear."

Sakura caught the mirthless laugh before it escaped her. She brought the cigarette to her mouth for another quick puff.

"My editor is ruthless, you know, especially with this big deadline. I haven't slept in months." The lie sounded half-baked, even to her.

Tsubaki laughed, the same careless cackle that hadn't changed with the years. Sakura smiled again at the sound.

"You're right, dear, I'll let you sleep. Call me again in a few days, alright? I love you!"

"Love you too, Obaa-chan," Sakura answered warmly, hanging up. She eyed the sunrise, just barely peeking over the buildings. Her balcony overlooked a few cafes and bookstores, not much during the day. But the sunrises were gorgeous. She released more smoke from her mouth, watching it dissipate into the cold air.

"No sleep for me," she murmured to nobody, taking a long gulp of her coffee before stubbing her cigarette out in her ashtray and heading back inside. Her laptop screen had gone dark and she moved the mouse to wake it up, setting her coffee cup down on her desk as her eyes began to scan the words on her screen.

She was almost done.

Sakura blinked her way back to the present. Her feet remained unmoved and she heaved a deep sigh, grabbing one of her suitcases and walking quickly down the hall. She passed her grandmother's closed door without a second glance, heading for her own room purposefully. Her heels clicked with dull thuds against the wood floor, nearly echoing in the deathly silent apartment. Her door squeaked open, as it always had, and she felt a ghost of a smile pass her lips at the sight of her untouched room. Her bed, neatly made, pillows fluffed. A wilting flower in a vase on her desk. Just waiting for her, as her grandmother had always promised.

She set her suitcase down on her bed after kicking her shoes off of her feet, returning to the living room to grab her other bags and toss them in her room. She dug through her things until she found a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, tossing her sundress onto her bed after she had changed. After some more digging, she retreated with her headphones clutched triumphantly in her hands, tangled but none the worse for wear. She popped them in, picked a playlist, and got to work.

After three hours of near-frenzied cleaning, a knock at her door announced the arrival of her boxes and the little furniture she had decided to bring with her. Her grandmother's apartment was already fully furnished so she had sold her couch and other various things.

She ushered in the workers, directing her large desk and bookcase to the study and her own bed frame and mattress to her room. The men marched out with the non-sentimental items Sakura had no problem scrapping: her grandmother's bedframe and nightstand were of no use to her. She had bagged her clothes, planning to drop them off at a thrift store or charity. She also had the men take her own old bed, as it was smaller and worn out. They left her boxes in the living room and after offering some water bottles to them and a hefty tip, they were gone, leaving the apartment just as quiet as when she first arrived.

The floor and kitchen were all clean, the old rotting food thrown out and all of the windows open to air out the musty apartment as much as possible in the heat. Sakura was sweating but at least she couldn't smell death anymore.

She began to unpack, organizing her bookcase and carefully placing her laptop on the desk in her new office. It still smelled like her grandmother's perfume and Sakura let her finger drag across the framed picture of her family on the wall, ignoring the ache in her chest at her mother's smiling face.

It was one of the only things she didn't have the heart to throw out.

The bell rang and she jumped nearly a foot in the air, surprised by how much time had passed already. With a glance at the time, she frowned. Ino shouldn't be done at the flower shop until eight. She made her way out of the room, closing the door softly behind her and weaving between the boxes strewn across the floor.

"Already done at the flower shop, Ino?" she called as she opened the door, blinking at the unexpected, though equally welcome sight.

"Hinata!" she said, lips stretching into a smile. The girl smiled back, long hair swaying as she held up her hands, takeout bags dangling from her long fingers.

"Ino-chan has another hour but she said you'd be hungry by now. I figured some of Minato-san's ramen wouldn't hurt."

"You always did know exactly what food was perfect," Sakura sighed wistfully, pulling her inside and shutting the door. "I've missed you."

"We've missed you too, Sakura-chan. It's good to see you home," Hinata murmured as she set the food down on the small table in the living room. Her eyes were as gentle as ever, yet piercing as they looked over Sakura's decidedly thinner frame and pale skin.

Sakura pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks, leaning back to take in the sight of her old friend as she clasped her hands. She ran an absent thumb over the diamond glittering on Hinata's left ring finger. Hinata's hair was a little longer but what had changed was her face, so much fuller and so vibrant. So full of life. They had grown, it seemed, in opposite directions.

"Oh, I can't wait for the wedding," Sakura grinned, brushing the thoughts away like smoke, releasing her old friend and turning to the food on the table. She began to unpack, already enchanted by the heavenly aroma of ramen.

She couldn't buy noodles like these anywhere but here.

"Please don't mind the mess, I'm still unpacking. Relax, let's eat and you can catch me up on everything wedding-related. I'm so behind on all the news, do you have a dress yet? I'm sorry I don't have wine or sake for the occasion." The questions flew from her mouth as she waved her hand at the couch. She hurried to the kitchen to pour some water before settling down next to Hinata on the couch.

Hinata giggled. Sakura sat beside her, crossing her legs underneath her and snapping open her chopsticks.

"No dresses yet at all, I wanted to wait for you to get in town," Hinata informed her. Sakura nodded vigorously, mouth too busy inhaling ramen to answer. Hinata continued talking, not touching her food until she was done like the proper lady she had been raised as.

"We're still figuring out an exact date but I would like a winter wedding, so we're thinking January. Naruto, of course, wants only ramen for the food and my father is not happy with that, so food planning is a little slow…"

Sakura listened carefully, interjecting with questions as she filled herself up with the food she had missed for years.

Afterward, Hinata ate as Sakura described life in Tokyo, the people she had met and the glittering gowns she had worn to beautiful parties filled with beautiful people. The wine and the food and the art. She didn't mention the dirty coffee cups that had cluttered her sink, the empty fridge, the full ash tray or the way the sun had mocked her when she couldn't sleep. She didn't talk about the way her bed had never been so big and cold. Hinata didn't need to hear about the loneliness or the big wide nothing Sakura had stared at for years.

Hinata's eyes glittered as Sakura spoke, hands moving in the air. After she had stopped talking, Hinata reached for her hand, smiling so sweetly Sakura's heart ached.

"Despite all that," Hinata said. "I'm glad you're home."

And it was that, more than anything, that made her chest ache. Those simple words. Sakura felt a strange urge to cry. She threaded her fingers with Hinata's and smiled back.

"Me too," she whispered.

Hinata helped her clear the dishes before she began to help with the cleaning and unpacking. Sakura had to admit that the chore was a lot more pleasant with Hinata humming beside her, sharing whatever silly stories came to mind in the time Sakura had missed. Sakura laughed and gasped and shook her head, amused beyond belief by her friends' antics.

A pounding on the door startled them both and Sakura pretended not to smile as Naruto's still-familiar voice boomed out, "Sakura-chaaannn!"

Sakura was throwing open the door before she even knew she had moved, and despite the years, despite the distance and the few, short phone calls and shorter emails, the silence, she threw herself into Naruto's arms, knowing he'd hold her for as long as she wanted. Because many things change, but many more don't. He still smelled like ramen and sweat and Naruto. His body was still warmer than hers and his arms still held her just as tightly as ever. A warm hand fell on her head and she didn't have to open her eyes to know Sasuke was probably failing to suppress a smile.

"Welcome home," Sasuke sighed, sounding exasperated and relieved all at once. Sakura opened watery eyes, sniffling as she smiled perhaps the biggest she had in years, reaching a hand out over Naruto's shoulder for Sasuke, who took it without complaint. His hair was longer and his shoulders broader, but he was still the same boy she had grown up with, shared band-aids with for scraped knees. The left corner of his mouth still quirked up in a half-smile and his hand was still so, so warm.

Ino huffed from behind them, arms crossed against her chest.

"Where were my tears?" she whined and Sakura laughed as Sasuke rolled his eyes.

Naruto remained strangely silent as he held Sakura but she didn't need his words to understand. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, embarrassed by another sniffle.

"I'm home," she whispered, feeling it for the first time, the welcome reality of it. She felt Naruto nod vigorously and she laughed a little, squeezing him tighter.

"I'm home," she repeated.


Sakura's thick heels clunked against the floor as she walked, not quite as satisfying as her stilettos but close enough. She shot off an email to her editor, checking her texts before locking her phone and stopping in front of a door. Sucking in a deep breath, she placed a bright smile on her face and slid it open, poking her head in and wiggling her fingers.

"Bonjour!" she sang. Heads swiveled and there was a beat of silence before smiles broke out and people stood, rushing to her.

"Sakura-chan!"

"You're back!"

"My, you look so beautiful!"

She laughed, accepting hugs gratefully as she made her way through the room, stopping before a head of gray hair with her hands on her hips.

"Sensei, I can't believe you still read that shit at school," she scoffed.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, eyes finally flickering over to her. His face softened at the sight of her and he set down his tell-tale orange book.

"You, of all people, should appreciate literature. It seems you've lost your taste and developed a potty-mouth in your years abroad. Jiraiya, support me in this," he scolded mildly. Jiraiya held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, flashing Sakura a wink. She rolled her eyes, taking a seat on his desk and digging through her purse.

"Speaking of literature," she muttered, pulling out an identical orange book. Kakashi's eyes widened and she giggled as his mouth nearly fell open when she opened the cover to point at the signature in black ink.

"A little birdy got me a certain author's number, who was a big help while I was writing my stories, so he was more than happy to do a little favor for me when I mentioned my favorite high school teacher," she hummed, pushing the book toward Kakashi. He grasped it with trembling fingers, eyes nearly watering. She shot a wink back to Jiraiya when Kakashi wasn't looking. The man's massive body vibrated with amusement.

"Sakura…I always knew you were my favorite," Kakashi whispered. Sakura laughed out loud, pushing herself off his desk and glancing around.

"Orochimaru-sensei is…" she trailed off. Asuma answered her, red pen pausing over his tests for a moment.

"The library, I believe," he called and Sakura smiled a quick thanks, bending to ooh at a picture of his daughter he had framed on his desk.

"She got her mother's looks I see," Sakura cooed. She ignored Asuma's indignant hey! and flounced out of the teacher's lounge, making her way to the library easily enough, despite the years that had passed since she had last been to school.

She glanced out the windows at the students milling around, eating and talking in their clean uniforms. Summer vacation would be starting soon and she could see groups of girls sneaking glances at their cell phones, obviously planning beach trips and giggling together. She smiled fondly, remembering how much Ino had nagged for a beach trip and a day at the spa during their vacations. How Naruto had eagerly counted the seconds till the days he could sleep in. How Shikamaru had complained about the chores his mother would make him do.

Seeing it all, with different children, made her feel old, nearly ancient. She blinked the sudden bleariness away, entering the library and smiling kindly at the old librarian.

She peeked between shelves until she found her old teacher flipping casually through an atlas, brow furrowed.

"Still on the pursuit for knowledge, Sensei?" she asked quietly.

Without glancing upward, Orochimaru replied, "Always, Sakura, as everyone should." His voice was the same, quiet and gentle, yet still somehow carrying.

Sakura smiled, peeking over his shoulder at the page he was looking at.

"You're on the anatomy section right now?" she guessed, gazing at the image of the human muscular system. Orochimaru nodded.

"I like to brush up every once in a while, the muscles always eluded me."

Sakura nodded. He closed the book, finally looking at her, taking in the sight of her with a soft smile.

"You've gotten thinner," he said softly, somehow still managing to make it sound like a scold.

"Isn't that usually a good thing, Sensei?" Sakura inquired innocently, brushing her index finger over the spines of textbooks.

"And better at evading the question," Orochimaru observed dryly.

"I didn't hear a question in there," Sakura retorted.

There was a brief silence before her old teacher sighed, shoulders lowering.

"How are you doing?" he asked tentatively, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Sakura didn't turn to look at him, hoping her hair hid the grimace on her lips. She'd never been a good actress or liar.

"Well enough," she answered honestly. "I'll have the bookstore re-opened by the end of this week. I'm pretty much done with the unpacking."

"Have you been to the grave?"

A pause. Sakura's eyes fell shut. Her finger stilled over a book on birds.

"No," she admitted, softly. "Not yet."

"She'll forgive you," Orochimaru hummed, placing the atlas back on the shelf. "She always understood you a little better than you did yourself."

Sakura shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear and turning to face him, letting the moment fall behind her like a shadow.

"I know," she said and Orochimaru smiled at her gently.

"Now," he continued, leading her out of the library and down the hall. "Tell me about Tokyo."


Sakura's life fell into a routine over the period of a week. Her eyes always snapped open at six in the morning, when the light outside was still dull. She dressed quickly in the dark, pausing only to rinse her face off, brush her teeth, and tie her hair up before she was out the door, headphones in and music on. She liked to do a jog all the way up to the school and back, sometimes passing other early risers and sometimes having an entire run with no human interaction. When she got back, she showered, ate a piece of toast and sucked down coffee.

After she had finished tidying up the bookstore below her apartment and getting the paperwork in order, she opened the bookstore at precisely 7:30 every morning, running the AC as much as possible and fanning herself with an old newspaper as she sat at the counter and typed half-heartedly on her laptop.

Another cup of coffee would sit beside her and she would sip at it, frowning at her computer screen. Her editor was positively clamoring for new material, but Sakura had hit a wall. The words just seemed stuck at the back of her throat all the time, not quite able to come out.

Sometimes, she looked around at the little store and tried not to remember hot days spent eating ice cream and laughing with her grandmother while Ino attempted to find every book on flowers and business known to man.

"I'm going to expand the business!" she declared nearly every day, eyes wide and so bright. Like Naruto's, almost.

"Of course, dear," Tsubaki would say, smiling like she genuinely believed it. "We can't wait to see it."

And Ino would beam like the sun.

On Thursday night, instead of her normal "watch a movie and go to bed" routine, Sakura entered Uzumaki Ramen with a pack of beer in one hand and her phone in the other, attempting not to snap at her editor for the increasingly pushy emails. How someone managed to sound so impatient with such a monotone way of writing emails, she would always be amazed by it. She really was driving her nuts and Sakura was considering sending her a sample of her latest article to shut her up. After winning the Pulitzer Prize for her last investigation, her editor had been begging to know her next project.

Problem was, Sakura herself wasn't sure. Petty robberies and car thieves wouldn't do it for her. But she was terrified of the lifeless eyes that haunted her nightmares.

"Sakura-chan!" Minato bellowed from behind the counter, a smile identical to his son's nearly blinding her, even from across the room. "It's about time you came to say hello!"

"It's only been three days, Minato-san," Sakura laughed, passing into the back and waving at the familiar cooks. Kushina came rushing in, enveloping Sakura in a hug before Sakura even had a chance to stutter out a greeting.

"You're skinny," Kushina sniffed disapprovingly. Her nose twitched and Sakura prayed she wouldn't point out the obvious smell of cigarettes on her. It was a habit she had no doubt the Uzumaki matriarch would disapprove of. Heartily.

"No time to eat with all that writing, no doubt," Minato chuckled, ruffling her hair and turning to his stove. The moment passed and Kushina's face softened as she moved to help her husband. "You always were prone to working too hard, you know that, kid?"

Sakura shrugged, taking a seat on the counter beside him and watching him cook as she popped open a beer. Her feet dangled in the air, bare legs warm against the cool counter. The cold drink settled in her stomach pleasantly and she answered all of Kushina's questions about Tokyo.

When Naruto and Sasuke came stumbling in, shoulders sagging from a long day at the station, Sakura followed them up the stairs to the apartment above the restaurant, amazed again by how little had changed. There were a few more pictures on the walls: Sasuke and Naruto graduating from the police academy, the three of them playing poker on one of her rare trips home. She gazed at that picture for a long time, marveling at the way her face glowed, whether from the beer or the smiles on the boys' faces, she didn't know.

Sasuke nearly startled her when he opened a beer next to her, glancing at the picture as well.

"Is that the night we were trying to teach Naruto how to play blackjack?" she asked out loud.

Sasuke cocked his head to the side, lips pursed.

"Yeah, I think so. Your hair is a lot longer now," he replied after a beat.

Sakura hummed, reaching an absent hand to comb through her hair.

"I only trust Ino with the dramatic haircuts," she reminded him.

Sasuke shrugged noncommittally, leading the way to the living room where Naruto had already sprawled out on the couch, arm flung over his eyes.

"Go take a shower, idiot," Sasuke growled, shoving at him with his foot.

Naruto heaved a huge, dramatic sigh but got up nonetheless, ruffling Sakura's hair as he moved past her. Sasuke took his place on the couch, assuming the exact same position. Sakura managed to contain her snicker.

"Don't start drinking without me!" Naruto called. A few moments later she heard the water turning on. Shoving Sasuke's feet off, she grabbed the remote and settled down on the couch, reaching for another beer.

"What movie tonight?" she asked, not particularly expecting a response.

"Koizora," Sasuke answered, peeking at her from under his arm. He smirked at the surprise on her face, closing his eyes again.

"You think we forgot which shitty romance movie cheers you up?" he scoffed. Sakura pinched his thigh, to which he barely twitched, and huffed.

"I don't need cheering up," she muttered mutinously, taking a swig of her beer.

Sasuke actually snorted, the sound surprising Sakura so much she almost dropped her can.

"Your grandmother died while you were countries away," Sasuke pointed out. "You live alone in her old apartment and look after her old bookstore after years of living in the big city and being a bigshot journalist. Of course you need cheering up."

Sakura said nothing, drinking her beer in silence until Naruto jogged back in, smelling much better than he had.

"Your turn, moron," Naruto jerked his thumb toward the bathroom. Sasuke heaved himself up, groaning.

"This job is going to make me old," he whined.

"You've been old since you exited the womb, Sasuke-kun," Sakura snarked. She hadn't quite forgiven his observations earlier. Sasuke only sighed.

Naruto scooped up a beer, reclaiming his spot on the couch and nudging Sakura with a grin.

"He's still as grumpy as ever, huh?"

Sakura laughed, shoving him away.

"And you're still just as loud," she retorted. Naruto pouted.

"Mean," he whined.

Sakura shrugged, throwing her legs over his lap.

"Accurate," she countered.

Sakura woke up the next morning with a blanket thrown over her and Naruto's snoring nearly making the couch vibrate. Even in the dark she could make out Sasuke sprawled on his stomach right next to the couch, breathing quiet, and Naruto had somehow managed to slump over the low coffee table for the entire night. Sakura winced at the thought of his sore neck. She checked her phone, the time reading 4:16 in the morning. She sighed. Why couldn't she wake up at a normal time, even after drinking?

She stood up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as she grabbed a water bottle. The cold liquid helped the throbbing in her head a little bit.

She settled back down on the couch, using her phone light to make sure she didn't wake either of the boys up. She took the time to scroll through some social media, smiling at the posts from the friends she had made. Sai had posted a snippet of his newest design, captioned, "Missing you Ugly…"

She tried not to laugh out loud as she favorited it. Sakura opened up her messaging app, typing out a quick text to him and pressing send. She locked her phone, staring up at the ceiling in the dark and wondering if sleep would find her again.

The nearly simultaneous buzzing of the boys' phones nearly gave her a stroke. Naruto's snore stopped mid-inhale and he jerked up with an audible snap of his neck. Sakura grimaced sympathetically.

Sasuke woke much more gracefully, grunting as his hand searched blindly for his phone.

"Cops," Sakura muttered irritably as Sasuke answered.

There was momentary silence before suddenly Sasuke was bolting upright. Sakura frowned as Naruto's own lively chatter quieted down and he sucked in a deep breath. They exchanged glances before they were moving in sync, Naruto throwing his phone back to the couch as he hurried down the hall to let his mother know where they'd gone.

"A case?" she asked, her journalist bones tingling.

"Yeah," Sasuke answered, strangely hesitant. "My father has, ah, asked you to assist."

Sakura's fingers tightened around the blanket and she sighed.

"It's bad?" she asked quietly. Sasuke avoided the question, ducking into the kitchen to grab some water.

"I wish he'd left you out of this," Sasuke muttered.

"He needs all the help he can get," Sakura murmured, shoving her feet into her sneakers. Her body was suddenly alert with a familiar adrenaline. A small town wasn't equipped for what had to be a murder, if her help was being requested. Naruto remained quiet but his shoulders were tense and she knew he was bracing himself for the morning ahead.

"I'm going to run home and change. I'll need boots," she said quietly. Naruto stood.

"I'm coming with you," he said in that authoritative way that brokered no argument. Sakura just nodded.

She changed in record time, slipping into jeans and her boots quickly and wasting no time with changing out of Naruto's old college sweatshirt. It was a little cold anyway, since the sun wasn't up yet, and she rushed out of the house with her backpack containing her camera, notebook, and pens. Sasuke was waiting outside with his car. The drive was silent, Sakura itching for a cigarette and a cup of coffee. Or maybe a shot of vodka would be better.

When they arrived at the field, Sakura took a moment to take in the sight of cops milling around with flashlights, people in blue jackets snapping pictures, the eerie silence of the morning broken only by early birdsong and the sounds of camera lenses.

Sakura walked between the boys, wishing desperately she could have snuck a cigarette before they left.

"Sakura," Fugaku said, sounding inexpressibly tired. "I'm so sorry."

Sakura couldn't smile, instead stepping forward to give the older man a brief hug. He had more lines on his face than the last time she'd seen him, his shoulders just a little more bent. Fugaku Uchiha had always been a big man, in body and in spirit. But right now, he seemed shrunken and too small for such a big, hard world.

"It's alright, Chief," she murmured. "I understand."

She drew back and watched as he issued some orders to Naruto and his son, who he spared a moment to place his rough hand on his shoulder. Sasuke clapped his hand once, briefly, before moving off to fulfill his duty as a cop.

And a son, Sakura thought.

The sun was barely beginning to rise so she pulled out a flashlight, finally turning to the two other men beside Fugaku.

"Sakura, you might recognize my eldest, Itachi. A detective now," Fugaku introduced them. The pride in his voice was undeniable as Itachi dipped his head silently in acknowledgement. Sakura flicked her eyes over him. She hadn't seen Sasuke's older brother since he'd left for university their first year of high school. Irritatingly enough, he was still as beautiful as ever, despite the obvious exhaustion in his face.

"His partner, Kisame-san," Fugaku continued, gesturing to the tall, broad man, who grinned at her, the expression out of place in the dim morning.

"I've been dyin' to meet you," Kisame admitted, holding his hand out. Sakura took it, giving him a brief shake. "I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances."

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to introduce myself," she joked lamely. Kisame chuckled slightly and there was a pause.

Finally, Sakura broke it.

"Where's the body?"

Itachi answered this time, voice low and smooth.

"This way."

They moved, the ground hard beneath their feet. Sakura could see Naruto and Sasuke in the distance, combing the grass for more evidence, their faces pinched with concentration. They looked so grown up. So much older.

A few yards away, there was a small section of the ground guarded by yellow tape. People in blue jackets moved around slowly, snapping pictures carefully. Sakura didn't pause before ducking under the tape, zipping open her backpack for her own camera. She'd spent the entire car ride preparing for this. Fugaku and the detectives hung back, letting her do what she had been called to do. They watched silently.

Sakura had learned how to look without seeing. The blood didn't bother her, nor did the torn clothes and pale skin. She took pictures carefully, moving around the body with well-placed, even steps.

She could hear Tsunade's voice in her head, one of her many teaching moments.

"You have to be respectful but remember. You're doing a job. This isn't personal. The second it becomes personal, you lose your ability to see clearly."

Sakura turned tearful eyes to her, throat still burning from the vomit she had emptied into the dirty toilet in front of her. The bathroom floor was hard against her knees and she was just grateful she had managed to keep it in until they got back to the station.

"It's awful," she gasped out. Her knees trembled. "She's so young, a child. It's awful."

Tsunade's face softened and she crouched down next to her, placing a gentle hand on her head.

"It doesn't get any easier. But this is what you wanted, isn't it? This is your big break, right?"

Sakura swallowed, hard. The image of the girl's eyes, open and unseeing, wouldn't leave her.

"I don't know," she sniffed, wiping a hand over her sweaty face. What she wanted? What she wanted was to go home. But she couldn't be weak, not after begging her to teach her, to guide her. "This isn't what I wanted."

"Just remember, kid," Tsunade said as she straightened, leaving her on the floor. "You're not a monster for this."

"I'm using a child's death to become a famous journalist," Sakura spat. She was angry now, with herself and Tsunade and whoever had killed an eight year old girl.

Tsunade sighed.

"You're using your gift to solve a child's death," she amended, nearly gently. And then she left and Sakura stared at her vomit in the toilet, wondering how much of that was true. If she was really gifted, or a good person for this.

She flushed the toilet, rinsing her face off in the sink and staring at herself for a few moments.

She didn't recognize her reflection.

After maybe ten minutes of pictures and tense silence, Sakura straightened, tossing her camera back in her bag before pulling out the notebook and pen.

"Do we have any information on her?" she asked. The authority came easy to her and Fugaku didn't twitch as he answered.

"Hayashi Rika, she's seventeen. I recognize her from the grocery store, her family owns it," Fugaku said.

Sakura jot it down, turning back to the body to take down a few notes as well. She was posed, her arms carefully placed at her sides, the only disarray on her body her ripped, torn clothes and the blood.

"Who found the body?"

"A couple of kids," Kisame answered her this time, hands in his pockets. "They were out here drinking, smoking a couple of cigarettes when they stumbled on her. They're pretty freaked out."

Sakura eyed the girl's clothes: she was in pajamas, soft shorts and a t-shirt. There was no makeup on her face and her hair, though no doubt tangled from whatever she had been put through, hadn't been straightened.

"Has she been reported missing?"

"Yes, her parents said she went out a couple nights ago to grab some study snacks from the convenience store and never came back. We've been scouring the town for her ever since. She's a good kid and her parents were nearly hysterical, so a disappearance like that raised some alarm bells," Kisame said. His voice suddenly sounded heavier.

"She left no trace, huh?" Sakura said, voice suddenly quieter, softer. Her hand stilled over the notebook.

"Like she vanished into thin air," Fugaku confirmed. His voice matched hers and Sakura avoided looking at him, knowing he was thinking what she was.

"You…you've ordered a rape kit, I assume?"

"A full work-up," Itachi said, finally speaking. The air was becoming thicker. The sun was finally beginning to rise, heating up the day, and Sakura rubbed a hand over her tired face.

Sakura hesitated, finally looking over at the tired men as they watched her.

"Her family?" she asked, voice nearly a whisper.

Fugaku heaved a sigh that ended in a cough. Sakura wished desperately again for a cigarette.

"Not yet," Fugaku admitted. "We were waiting to transport the body to the mortuary first."

Sakura nodded, sparing one more look at the girl's body. The posing and careful washing of the girl's face meant he hadn't just thrown her out like trash. But the blood smeared over her exposed thighs and hands, her torn fingernails…

Sakura had to choke down the bile rising in her throat.

"Well, I got all of my pictures and notes. You can take the body now," Sakura coughed out instead. Her hands were trembling, a headache forming between her temples. She desperately needed a cup of coffee.

Fugaku nodded to a couple of people idling off toward the side and they moved forward instantly. Sakura averted her eyes as they carefully wrapped the body, picking her way back over to the three detectives. With the light rising more, she could get a clearer look at their faces. Itachi looked positively haunted and some grim part of her wanted to smile. The idea of her being more composed than the Uchiha darling would be amusing under other circumstances.

"Itachi will give you a ride back to the station," Fugaku sighed, deeply. "I'd like you to meet the taskforce and introduce yourself. And if it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to talk to the parents after I tell them, see if you can get anything about her daily life. Parents respond better to women."

Sakura nodded blankly. She turned to Itachi, reaching back to pull her hair out of its messy ponytail.

"Any way we can stop by my apartment so I can change into something that won't give me heat stroke?"

Itachi nearly quirked a smile while Kisame actually grinned. She could feel the tension shiver.

"Not a problem," Itachi answered.

The sun was above the horizon. Sakura stared at it hatefully as the buildings passed by in the back seat of Itachi's car.

Old ghosts always come back to haunt.