Several weeks later...
He sighed again when he finally stepped over the threshold of the Uchihas' lands, the overbearing archway and gate still standing prominently despite the dilapidation that had happened with years of vacancy. Maybe he'd put in a mission request for some genin to clean the place up eventually?
He walked through the streets as quietly as possible. He wasn't one for believing in ghosts or haunted entities, but there was definitely an eerie feeling in the air here.
He made his way up to the old apartment complex was a popular place for young people of the clan to start back in the day, previously filled with kids who had moved up the shinobi ranks high enough to fully support themselves and new couples who were still in the market for a more permanent residence.
His childhood home was still empty too of course, but there were some memories he would rather leave untouched. The mere thought of passing over the threshold made him want to puke.
Jogging up three flights of stairs, he threw open the door at the end of the hallway to the right; he rarely locked it as of late. No one had the audacity to step foot here, and even if they did, they wouldn't find much, save for some ninjutsu scrolls he'd already memorized and fully mimicked with his sharingan.
Kicking off his shoes at the door, he fell on his old bed gracelessly and stared at the ceiling, letting his muscles fall slack as he sank into the mattress and feeling the weight that plagued him whenever it found an opportunity to press into him once more in his subdued state. He wanted to run away from this, from complex life and necessary niceties and misguided hated, but where could he go?
The alternatives were slim. Whether he liked it or not, Konoha had been his birthplace, and he had already given himself unconditionally to the state. Due to the new-found shinobi alliance, finding another country to grant him amnesty would be far from likely if he ran, regardless of whether he saved the world or not, as ludicrous as it sounded. He huffed and turned to his side, curling up on himself like a cat. He supposed he could have continued to live nameless and on the run for the rest of his life, but his pride wouldn't allow it. The uchiwa pressed on his back a sacred namesake that would never leave him, practically branded into his skin rather than his clothing. It would always give him away, a tell-tale sign of its bearer. Would he really be able to cover it up, or worse, remove it? Dispose of it like the rest of his past, wiping his hands clean of the others' blood? The Uchiha clan deserved better than that.
Didn't they?
He blinked once. Shoving himself off of his bed and away from that train of thought. He had long since given up on trying to rationalize his clan's and his brother's actions. It wasn't their fault; they were but pawns played in a larger, convoluted picture. The thought made his stomach heave and his forehead to break out in sweat.
enough.
Shoving his window open, he threw himself into the night, looking for a village displayed before him, a hodgepodge of scrapped buildings and telephone poles, the cobblestone and paved roads stretching out like veins through a body, slowing down with the sunset.
But even with them reaching to the horizon, he knew he wouldn't get very far; the walls of the village were always within in sight, caging him in.
Gritting his teeth, he shot forward to the center of the fray, his footfalls hitting against the roofs of buildings lightly as he propelled himself towards the north end of the city.
To hokage tower.
He moved quickly through the building, clinging to the empty hallways, more comfortable in the shadows than elsewhere. It was mostly empty, but as he got closer to the office, he noted several secretaries and guards shuffling about, eyeing him warily and talking amongst themselves behind cupped hands.
Sheep.
The guard stationed outside of the office gave a start as Sasuke emerged from the harsh shadows that had been cast from the sunset though the archaic ventilation windows of the ancient building. They had clearly not expecting direct visitors at this hour.
"Stop! What is your business, Uchiha?" His surname fell off of the guard's tongue like venom, and Sasuke had the mind not to snap the man's neck with his fingers.
He paused anyways, shoving his hands in his pockets, a habit he'd procured in his youth, "I need to talk to the sixth."
The man became more defiant,
"Like hell-"
But before the guard could finish, he was cut off by one of the massive doors to the main office groaning as it swung open slightly.
The head of a very tired looking Shikamaru Nara appeared seconds later in the newly formed crevice. He glared sideways at his guards at either side of the doors,
"Tch. So troublesome. Just send him in already." He looked up and met the Uchiha's glance and threw a cocky smirk his way.
"Have to say, I wasn't expecting your ugly mug to show up on my door." He rubbed his jaw in thought, "or if I did, it was in the custody of guards after trying to escape." The Uchiha might have responded, but the hokage waved a disinterested hand in his general direction, effectively interrupting the Uchiha.
"So are you gonna come in or what?"
Sasuke wanted to turn on his heel and walk right out in spite, but he stepped into the office with nothing more than a sideways glance at the guard that had stopped him.
Walking into the office once more was a fairly nostalgic experience. He'd been here before when he discussed the terms and conditions of his granted amnesty, but that had been a muddled blur. Now, with the harsh light of the setting sun beating directly into the expansive windows that covered the north side of the office, he was brought back to the times in which he reported here with team seven after a completed (or failed) mission.
Those were the days, weren't they?
"What can I do for you, Uchiha?"
It felt strange, answering to someone his age. He had no doubts about Shikamaru's competence to make adequate decisions on the village's welfare, despite an arrogance that rivaled his own. Still though, he wondered if the Nara heir was really cut out for the job. Sasuke himself sought the position of hokage after learning the truth behind the motivations of Konoha's leaders, but quickly let that notion go at the cessation of the war when Shikamaru stepped up to the plate. Nara, at least, had the empathy and the knowledge necessary to guide a village in a peacetime without becoming corrupt, something Sasuke himself lacked.
"I want a mission."
The hokage let out an elaborate, audible sigh. "You know, I can't really do that."
The Uchiha's jaw clenched and his hands balled up in to fists. The hokage noted his change in posture with a lift of his eyebrows, suddenly interested. Was the Uchiha really going to attack him?
"You are still under probation indefinitely. You haven't made any progress within the village, and despite your efforts in the war, more of the town's people are afraid of you than accepting. Do you really think I can get away with sending out a traitor like you back into the fray? For any reason?"
"An escort?"
"Are you really so confident to think that there are missions which only you could pull off?"
The Uchiha only stared pointedly at the sixth, and the man exhaled profoundly again. They both knew that Sasuke was an invaluable power source, second only in some ways to Naruto.
Shikamaru rubbed his head in thought as they came to the conclusion simultaneously, "Well, if you were to be sent out, I need to do it under a subordinate position with people who," he started ticking off fingers "are capable enough to handle you if you were to potentially get out of hand and," another finger "know your patterns well enough to stand a chance one on one in case the other is taken out."
Logically, that would be Naruto and Kakashi. Naruto for the sheer force and familiarity. Kakashi for the sharingan compatibility and as a buffer between himself and the idiot, but as soon as Sasuke voiced his thoughts, Shikamaru was already shaking his head.
"Standard operating procedure decrees that teams over two must have an accompanying med-nin. Now tell me, who fits the criteria needed for your escort?"
It was a rhetorical question, but his thoughts answered for his mouth.
Sakura.
"So reunite team seven." the Uchiha answered.
"Do you understand exactly what you're asking for? Have you thought about how they felt about it?"
"Naruto and Kakashi-"
The hokage cut him off sharply, "And Sakura? Have you thought about what it would do to her?"
That stopped Sasuke, but Shikamaru carried on,
"I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, Sasuke, but you really messed her up when you left. She was inconsolable for months. And on various accounts, she has periodically shown a lack of reasoning when it comes to you. Do you really know what you're asking for when you waltz in here demanding missions?"
He didn't. Not really. He knew Sakura's feelings had persisted long after his departure from Konoha, that much had been made apparent after she failed to kill him when she was given the chance. It was in her eyes that day as he held her up after she'd collapsed from chakra exhaustion during the war. The attachment might have not been same as it had been when they were young, but it was still apparent, if he bothered to acknowledge it.
How bad had he left her though? Was she really as hopeless as Shikamaru attested to? Their last moments together before he left was a clear testament to her feelings, but his need for vengeance at the time had outweighed her admiration by a landslide. He'd expected her to get over her schoolgirl crush in time. How long had she stayed behind, mourning their- her loss?
He knew it wasn't fair to ask of her. She'd put on a brave face during the medical scrutinization, but he'd noticed her hands shaking on several occasions and she had scarcely breathed during the visit.
Was there no one who could replace her in the field?
Her superior, maybe. The kunoichi who had followed the fifth, Sakura's upperclassmen. But she was now the head of medicinal affairs for the entire village. If Nara even let this mission slide, it wouldn't be enough to call the dark-haired kunoichi off work, not when Sakura was perfectly capable.
The more he thought about it, the more logic pushed him into a corner. He wanted to go forward with the plan and ask Sakura, but there was a piece of him that questioned the morality of it. Naruto and Kakashi, he could put up with; they would understand. But Sakura? She would understand, but how much would she give up to do so? Was it fair to place his needs over hers? Could he do that? Again?
His hands balled up in frustration once more, and it was all he could do not to lash out, to hit something.
"There is nothing you can do….?" It wasn't a question so much as a statement.
"I can forward it to the council and discuss the options with Sakura, if you permit it."
He stood there and weighed his options. He could walk out the door or he could see this through. Despite his lineage, Sasuke trusted Shikamaru. He was one of the few who stood behind him when he returned to the fire country.
But he was done.
"Do what you have to." he muttered before stalking out.
"I'll do what I can, Sasuke." Shikamaru amended.
Ichiraku's was unusually quiet tonight, the small ramen shop reeking of alcohol and salt and warmth, empty but for one person.
"Can I get another, Teuchi-san?" Sakura drawled quietly as she shook the empty sake bottle gently at the owner's direction.
The owner grabbed the bottle before promptly placing another down with a slight look of paternal worry in his eyes.
This was a common occurrence. After years of shadowing the fifth, Sakura had eventually given in to her mentor's seemingly constant invitations to join her for a bottle or four of saké, much to Shizune's dismay. Now, several months later, Sakura could guzzle down the rice wine with the best of them, nothing but a dusky rose painting her cheeks and a boisterous attitude reminiscent of her former teacher. It never became an issue for anyone but Shizune, who had reprised her role as caretaker, helping her junior stumble home after prolonged benders or intervening in particularly heated fights the pink haired kunoichi had become so good at picking lately, just like their mentor before her. Shizune always reacted as if these nights were the bane of her existence, but Sakura was under the impression that the older woman didn't really mind. It had definitely brought the two closer, especially after Tsunade's passing.
But even with her affinity for poking fun under the influence, Sakura's mind was too heavy to tease Ayame or Teuchi tonight, still emotionally drained and recovering from all the happenings revolving around a certain raven-haired shinobi lately. It had been a handful of weeks since she'd gone through with her mission, and she hadn't seen a hair of him since. She was almost grateful for that, but the experience had hit her hard. The drinks only did so much to tame the tornado of emotions raging their way through her.
A long sight grazed her ears from behind, and a very tired looking Shikamaru Nara flopped into the stool directly to her right, lifting off his enormous hokage hat and flicking it on the counter. Behind the wooden barrier, Ayame squeaked in surprise and Teuchi snapped into attention, bowing profoundly,
"It is our deepest pleasure to serve you, Hokage-sama!"
Shikamaru just rubbed the back of his head roughly though and chuckled lightly before waving off the praise lightly. Sakura glanced sideways, noting the exchange with feigned disinterest. It seemed that his position of power had softened the Nara heir up a bit, particularly around civilians. He still kept up his general lack of interest in anything he deemed too troublesome (most things), but Sakura failed to remember any hokage being as kind, at least not since the third. A small, bitter smirk found its way to her features as she silently wondered if a relationship between him and a certain blonde-haired liaison of Sunagakure had anything to do with his recently acquired compassion.
"I'm not so sure you're old enough to consuming such things," he flicked a finger lightly against her sake bottle, "even if you are the fifth's student," he finally spoke up.
She rolled her eyes and barked out a laugh. While the consumption of things like cigarettes and alcohol by minors was still frowned upon, it was not uncommon to see shinobi as young as thirteen partaking in them. Store owners wouldn't sell it to grade schoolers or genins, but with the mortality rate being as high as it was for shinobi, there weren't very many adults who would refuse anyone at a chun-nin level or above. It was a sad predicament, and one that was quickly falling out of favor in the recent peace time, but she figured if she was old enough to put her life on the line when she was only sixteen years old, she was old enough to drink. She retorted in kind,
"That's funny, coming from someone who picked up his teacher's smoking habit at one point, Hokage-sama."
The boy's eyebrows shot straight up at the noticeable sourness in her tone and the added sarcasm that had been slathered all over the honorific. Teuchi visibly blanched behind the counter. Like seemingly all the women he had grown up with, Sakura had a particularly feisty attitude that made itself apparent more often than not in their academy days, but Shikamaru had spent his entire childhood avoiding any situation that may have brought it out, preferring instead to stand on the sidelines as he watched Naruto take the brunt of her temper. It may have just been a side effect from the alcohol, though he supposed she had more than enough reason to be angry with him lately.
"Temporarily," he corrected her conversationally.
She rolled her eyes again. As if it mattered.
"To what do I owe the pleasure? Was the intel report on Sasuke-kun inadequate?"
He ignored the question. The report was more than adequate, and they both knew it. He nodded curtly once to Ayame as she slid a cup of tea over the counter to him.
"I'm sorry for that. I didn't exactly have a lot of options; I had limited choices in the matter."
Her eyebrow twitched.
"Yeah, well. So did I."
He sighed. It wasn't exactly like he didn't deserve this. He'd seen Sakura fresh off the pavement after Sasuke had left the first time, and he knew he'd asked a lot of her in the past few weeks. Which made the next few words out of his mouth that much harder,
"I need a favor."
She nodded. Shikamaru, while definitely one of the warmer hokages of their age, was not known to leave his tower without reason, still getting acclimated to his workload as village leader.
"Uchiha visited me earlier today."
Her hand gripped tighter on the edge of the table at the sound of his name, and it didn't escape Shikamaru's notice. He continued,
"Looks like hell. Sounds like he's slipping. Wants to leave the village-"
Sakura's head whipped to the side, pink locks flying out to the sides of her head with the movement before falling back into place against her cheekbones. Shikamaru met her gaze evenly, watching as his words seemingly stabbed into her chest. Bottle-green eyes widened and brimmed with tears almost immediately.
"-temporarily," he finished.
She remained frozen for another second as the words sunk in again, numbing the stab wound he'd left earlier.
Temporarily.
Temporarily.
Not forever.
She swallowed, frustratingly biting back the tears that had showed up seemingly out of nowhere, embarrassed to show weakness in front of the Hokage. Fixing her features, she composed herself and turned towards the counter again, staring straight ahead.
Her face remained stoic even as her voice betrayed her, cracking once, "For how long?"
Shikamaru shook his head.
"He just wants a mission. He's getting finicky having not left since his return, but he's still on probation. Within his amnesty agreement, he shouldn't be able to leave just yet, but..."
She almost wanted to smile at the adjective Shikamaru had used to describe Sasuke-kun. Finicky. Like he was stray cat that had only wanted attention when he permitted it. Her teeth clenched as she swallowed the bitter laugh that threatened to slip out at the accuracy of the comparison.
The hokage carried on unbeknownst to her nonverbal ramblings,
"I'm slim on options here... I can stronghold the council into letting him out for a mission, but only under the right conditions."
But Sakura had already put two and two together. If Shikamaru was to let Sasuke-kun out of his probation for any reason, he would need to do it under a subordinate position with people who were capable enough to handle him. It wasn't hard to connect the rest of the dots.
But even as the picture came together, she mentally wiped away the image. Completely foregoing her cup, she took a long pull from the sake bottle in hopes to distract herself from the truth. Shikamaru watched her take gulps from the rice wine, counting her swallows- one, two, three, four- until she pulled her lips away from the lip of the ceramic and gasped for breath.
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I'd talk to you."
So she held the cards here. Great. Her brain told her to run, to slam down enough money to cover her tab, tell Shikamaru to screw himself, and storm out.
But her twelve-year-old self pulled on her heartstrings and begged her to reconsider. It was Sasuke-kun.
"How long would it be?"
Shikamaru stared into his tea, "three days, tops."
Could she do that? Suck it up for three days for Sasuke's sake? Did she really owe him that?
But it wasn't about owing anyone anything. She was given two options, and she had to pick the one she could live with. It wasn't that she was particularly opposed to going; in fact, the larger part of her, her heart, jumped at the opportunity, quietly fluttering at the possibility of a nostalgic trip down memory lane, sleeping with her team under the stars again for the first time in years.
But cold hard logic held her back. They weren't the same as they were four years ago, Sasuke had left a hole in all of them when he'd left and the reminder of the ways her team had changed often felt like a swift punch to the gut. They would never be the same again. Could they? More importantly, would she be able to stand it if they couldn't?
"Where does Sai fit in all of this?"
Shikamaru shook his head to the side once.
"I've got him working back in root. I can't exactly put all of my strongest assets on one team."
Oh, but you can put all three of the new-age sannin and the one man who is competent enough to replace you on one team? Right.
She sighed.
"What do you want from me, Shikamaru?"
"I want you to do what you need to. Whatever you think is best, Sakura."
"Even if it's not best for him?"
The hokage shrugged. "As far as I see it, Sasuke-kun made his choice. He made his bed, he can lay at it for all I care. But if your interests coincide, I see no reason to irk him unnecessarily."
He pushed himself off of his stool, threw down enough money to cover both of their tabs,
"Just stew on it for a bit. Let me know when you decide."
He tipped his wide brim hat and waved to Ayame and Teuchi before walking off.
Ayame quickly picked up the tab, and bowed at the waist.
"Thank you, hokage-sama!"
Sakura watched him go, and tapped lightly against her bottle with her an index finger.
"...Can I get another?"
Shikamaru flopped on his bed, stretching and popping out the seemingly ever-present kinks in his neck. This job was getting more and more troublesome as the weeks went on. It was worth it though, he supposed, if he could continue the village and make a better life for the future generations. Still, as he gazed out his window, he wished he had the freedom of the clouds in the sky, wispy and close to the moon.
As it was a breeze gently caressed his face, the smell of sand and heat and desert shrubs gently prodding at his senses.
A small white-gray ermine moved from the shadows in the corner of his flat, scampering next to him and jumping lithely on the window sill.
"Anything new?"
Kamatari didn't say anything, only dropping something small and light at his side before huffing defiantly and disappearing with a pwohf!
He smirked at the stand-offish nature of the familiar, so similar to its summoner. He looked at his side and picked up the fragile object, pulling gently on its tail and making its wings flap. If he held the minuscule paper crane close to his face, the faintest trace of her favorite perfume clung onto its crisp edges.
He sighed longingly.
This job really was troublesome.