Martyrs
Summary: Konoha is at war, and there's nowhere else to go but up.
Chapter Two: Nineteen
Things have not gone well for Konoha in the three years since the Battle of The Red Dawn. Intel suggests that the massacre was orchestrated by the new Fire Daimyo, seeking to tip the balance of power for fear of open revolution, in the unstable aftermath of the Akatsuki-Madara debacle. Mostly, the ninja (save for the Daimyo's personal troops) are scattered and few in number. The least optimistic among them say that the village no longer exists, but Sakura believes otherwise. She knows that there is hope while they still live.
The noisy restaurant they've agreed to meet their informant in lies in the dusty heart of Wind Country. It is safer to be in the public eye rather than hiding in the shadows; Sakura finds the irony unsettling. Sai sits across from her at the table, doing his best to school his expression into something resembling human. They are both disguised in civilian clothing and, in Sakura's case, a henge to alter her most telling features. Sai offers up an insincere smile, to which Sakura rolls her eyes.
"You don't have to try so hard, idiot."
"Oh. Good."
They order some tea and udon from a pretty waitress rushing past. Two minutes later, a man slides into the seat beside Sakura, and asks if the harvest has been kind this year.
"Only so far as the weather permits," she replies, as rehearsed.
The man nods and slips her a scroll under the table. "May your fields prosper and your orchards be abundant."
"We offer our thanks," smiles Sakura, and drops a small purse into his hand. When the man leaves, their dinner arrives. Twilight settles like a soft blanket in the streets; the restaurant staff begin lighting paper lanterns strung from beams on the low ceiling. Sakura's fingers tighten around her chopsticks as the bustle and clutter of the restaurant swells and chimes.
"I want to go home," she whispers.
Sai gives her a piece of beef in sympathy. He can't bring himself to say that 'home' no longer exists.
Gai can be deathly quiet when the need arises. Kakashi appreciates this. They are making their way back to the rebel base on the tail-end of a 'diplomatic' mission (as Tsunade jokingly called it) that has lasted the better part of two years. They have been sowing seeds that may some day grow into strong alliances, and re-kindling old ones, gathering intelligence all the while. Fire Country has become a volatile place, and Konoha-nin know that in such circumstances it is prudent to keep your friends close and enemies closer.
The forest is damp from consistent rain; the undersides of their sandals are caked with humus. The slow decay of organic matter gives off a pungent, earthy smell that reminds Kakashi a lot of his Genin days. The moon, slung low in the sky, offers little light to guide their path, yet the pair move stealthily and without impediment through the foliage. In fact, Kakashi feels much more comfortable traveling under cover of darkness – it is much safer than the alternative, and is the reason they chose to restrict their movements until after nightfall.
Gai suddenly halts in his tracks and holds up a cautioning hand. His strong profile is a dim silhouette as he successively motions to his ears and the forest ahead. Kakashi pulls back his headband and activates the sharingan. The whole world seems to hold its breath. A small team of ninja – not their own – are making their way through the underbrush. Kakashi sees the glint of a drawn blade and drops to a squat; Gai soon follows. The air is stuffy and humid; there are mosquitoes everywhere; not to mentiontheir backpacks feel bizarrely heavier this close to the ground. Several minutes pass before the two deem it safe enough to raise their heads. Kakashi gently passes his pack to Gai and takes to the trees to scout the path ahead. Twenty minutes later they are on the move again; they cannot afford to waste time – not when they are so close to base.
They pass through the gates some hours later with the rising sun at their backs. The base is a fortress built deep into the western mountain (courtesy of Yamato, for the most part), conveniently shrouded by dense forest. They report to Tsunade immediately, who, in spite of not having seen them in so long, treats them with cool professionalism (though the relief in her stance and the fire in her eyes says otherwise). After this they are left to their own devices. Kakashi slumps onto a bench in the empty mess hall and attempts to have a drink of water from his flask, only to find it empty. Before he can even think to curse Gai holds out his own, which Kakashi accepts gratefully. Gai is still unnaturally subdued and has not yet been able to shake off the forest quiet; however Kakashi expects it won't be long before he's back to normal. An unspoken expression of solidarity passes between them as their eyes lock and Gai does not smile – not this time. Kakashi knows that Gai understands him in a way that few people do; in spite of this he struggles to admit that Gai just might be his best friend. For the first time in a long time, Kakashi lifts his head and smiles.
Sakura knows a lot about waiting. She has waited for her teammates; for recognition; for justice; for love. This does not mean, however, that it is something she enjoys. She has just wasted twenty minutes of her lunch break waiting to give some jackass Shinobi a medical check-up, as per protocol, and she is not happy. 'Happy' is probably the farthest thing from her mind. This is especially the case because she is hungry – her bad mood alleviated only with timely sustenance – something Naruto calls 'taming the beast'.
"The nerve of this guy!" she complains to her assistant, aggressively shelving vials of medicine. "Just who does he think he is?! Honestly, the only other person who's this insufferably unpunctual is Kakashi Sen-"
"Nice to know I'm never far from your thoughts, Sakura-chan!"
Sakura turns her head so abruptly it's a wonder she doesn't break her neck. "Sensei!" she exclaims, "you're back!"
"Yo."
Kakashi stands in the doorway and gives himself a moment to appreciate how far his student has come since they first met. C-cup, he guesses on instinct, then feels like a pervert. Meanwhile Sakura's smile is so wide it threatens to stretch beyond the confines of her face.
"Have you grown taller or something?"
"Sensei!" she shouts, though she can't stop smiling, "you're late."
"What can I say? I got-"
"-Lost on the road of life. Yadda yadda. You can sit over there."
While Kakashi shrugs out of his Jounin vest, Sakura hands him a surgical mask and dismisses her assistant. She turns away to gather her equipment and give him a little privacy as he removes his bindings, pants, shirt, and, by extension, his mask, which is then promptly replaced by the surgical one.
"Right. Ready?"
"Mmm."
Kakashi knows that most Medic-nin would not let him keep a mask on and is thankful that Sakura has not pressured him to do otherwise. It is one of the perks that come with having the right contacts, and for this Kakashi is grateful - especially with regards to someone like her, whom he has known for so long and so well. Nevertheless their proximity is more than a little disconcerting, and he feels very peculiar indeed when her fingers lightly brush against his skin.
"Goosebumps? You ticklish?"
"Have mercy, Sakura-chan."
She cackles ominously in response. Kakashi's skin still prickles uncomfortably and continues to do so all throughout his physical. For reasons not completely known, Kakashi's mind dwells on attempting to reconcile the image of the little girl he taught chakra control to with the woman standing before him. He feels impossibly old all of a sudden and a little wistful, in the same way all teachers do when their students grow up and move on with their lives.
"You've all grown so much," he mutters unintentionally.
"That happens," she murmurs.
Kakashi drops a hand on her head in a quiet show of affection, making Sakura smile. It is rare that they are alone together, and even rarer that he permits her a little acknowledgment. For a moment the room is peaceful and content.
"Okay Sensei, let me check your Sharingan, and then we'll be done."
Kakashi has a hard time looking into Sakura's eyes – though he's not quite sure why. They are fascinating and quite unlike anyone else's – the same clear green as cut glass – not to mention her most arresting feature (though her temper comes in at a close second). All he knows is that it feels a lot like she's staring into his soul and it's not something he particularly likes. He squirms uncomfortably.
"Oh stop it, you big baby. How did it hold up on your mission? Any bleeding or injuries?"
"None," he lies (because the truth is: barely; yes; at least three times in the past two years).
"Liar. But everything looks alright for now. I want you to come right here if it starts acting up again. Okay?"
"Aye aye, Doctor!"
Sakura rolls her eyes and tries very hard not to laugh.
In the midst of a skirmish on the borders of rebel territory, Sakura finds herself looking for the rest of Team Seven. Naruto runs by her right, setting off a series of exploding tags. Sai swoops overhead on an ink hawk, knocking enemy nin out of the trees. Meanwhile Sakura attempts to conceal herself while her chakra stores replenish so that she can continue to offer medical support to the Konoha rebel nin. The enemy forces are mostly made up of Root and Mist ninja, and their numbers are overwhelming. The rebels have sustained massive losses in the months leading up to the present attack and she's not sure how much longer they could possibly hold out. It is in this moment of despair that she finally spots Kakashi.
It is an odd thing to watch Kakashi fight. Even though he is a reputed genius and formidable shinobi, his style is odd and clumsy, like a leaf tumbling in the wind. He is mesmerising to watch nonetheless; there is a gracefulness to his movements that makes Sakura feel like she's watching a dance. He slips and dives so effortlessly that sometimes she is not altogether sure if he's lost control - but Hatake Kakashi is always in control. He drives a tanto through an enemy nin's ribs and doesn't even break his pace. There is something so chillingly beautiful about the movement that it makes Sakura's breath catch in her throat.
Two seconds later she is spotted by a Root agent. The dance ends; the spell is broken as Kakashi vanishes into the trees. The whole world is smoke and ashes; craters sunk deep into the earth; screams of the suffering; death, and Sakura does the only sensible thing she can think of.
She runs.
Sakura comes to him most nights, after the others have gone to sleep. Naruto makes it a point to leave his sleeping bag unzipped and to wear his socks (because her feet are impossibly cold). He thinks she looks beautiful in these moments - like a fairy or a nymph – her hair is lilac in the darkness and her eyes are like glass marbles (and if he's honest with himself, they're also a bit freaky).
"Scooch over," she whispers.
He grumbles – not because he has any objections to Sakura sharing his bed, but rather because of the principle of the thing – and lets her slide in. The two huddle close together, cocooned in warmth. He will never admit this, but she isn't the only one comforted by their arrangement. These days her company is one of the only things that keeps him sane – after all, Team Seven is the closest thing to 'family' he has ever known.
"I wonder what Sasuke's doing," she murmurs suddenly.
Naruto exhales deeply into her hair and touches his forehead to hers.
"That teme. Busy being a jackass, probably."
Silence. Then:
"Your breath stinks."
They spend the next minute giggling and trying exhale on each others faces, and for a brief moment, everything feels normal.