Chapter Two: Insomnia

Sakura stood, leaning against the doorway into the office, staring into the darkness of the room. She didn't have the heart to turn on the light, for it would only confront her with the growing stack of work precariously stacked on her desk. She could practically hear the disdainful sigh of the wood creaking under the weight of all the scrolls and paper. Her head ached and she wished she could just turn around and go crawl back into her bed where there were no bickering trade guilds, spending deficits, village relations, or restoration project approvals. But just thinking about the amount of work she had to do kept her up at night, so here she was, staring into her office, too drained to tackle the sheer amount of paper.

The hallway light behind her cast her reflection into the windows across from her. Sakura watched her figure, shoulders slopped and back curved into a slump. She always had nice posture, when she was younger, but now she could hardly bother to save face. She frowned.

A sharp pressure at her lower spine forced the young Hokage to straighten and arch her back, more in an act of surprise then in pain.

"As Rokudaime, you could simply banish bureaucratic politics altogether and declare martial law. It would be far less paper work," Kakashi said as he removed his hand from her back. He had just gotten back early from a declaratory mission in Suna and he had been surprised to find his student still up.

"ACK," Sakura said, jumping back, one hand to her chest. "You scared the bejesus out of me!"

"Bejesus?"

Sakura gave Kakashi a flat look. "You startled me."

Kakashi gave her an exasperated look. "It brings me little confidence as both your former Sensei and Jōnin assistant that the leader of the Hidden Leaf could be startled so easily."

"Watch it," said Sakura, narrowing her eyes.

Kakashi shrugged and the two fell into silence. Sakura began to pout. She resumed her place at the doorway and sat down so she was sitting, merely propped up, by the door frame. Tilting her head she regarded Kakashi. Of course he would be there, hovering. Since the war, Kakashi seemed to constantly be near here. Shikamaru has suggested it could be because they were the only two remaining survivors of team 7. Whatever the reason, Sakura did not mind. Since her succession of her sensei as Hokage, Sakura had found very few people she could trust outside of the immediate Rookie Nine. The world of village politics was heavily lenient on patriarchy and displays of power and showmanship, and although Sakura was bright she lacked the cold heartedness that went into many of the political decisions played out before her. It was not uncommon for Sakura to simply refuse missions that was too life threatening or corrupt yet Shikamaru and Kakashi were often there to give her a verbal slap on the wrist for not taking her job seriously. Not that she wasn't, she just knew from experience the perils of sending Genin on missions that were above their rank.

Too often she had to visit families of the dead children. She had buried her share amount of graves in her 22 years.

Kakashi would know, he was there digging them with her.

Sakura watched him remove his traveling cloak and frowned at the trail of sand that fell from it as he folded it across his arm. But she was grateful, no matter how aggravating he was, for his presence.

"I doubt I could install the proper amount of fear in this village to rule as a dictator, the hair kind of kills the mood," she told him. The silver-haired Nin rolled his shoulders to crack his back then, with a sigh, took to leaning on the opposite side of the door frame across from her. "You've obviously never seen yourself at 5 in the morning," he said,

Sakura scowled. "Terrifying," Kakashi said, dropping his hand on the top of her hair and ruffling it. He kept it there for a few seconds longer then necessary before dropping back to his side. Sakura didn't seem to notice and if she did, did not remark on it.

"And how is the Kazekage?" Sakura asked, stretching her arm up to take the scroll attached to Kakashi's hip pocket. She unfolded it as Kakashi rumbled about the young man being as tightly wound as ever. Sakura's eyes drifted over the trade settlement that she was helping set up between the villages and the cost-effect factors of importing Sunagakure oil to Konoha. If she wasn't exhausted before, she was now and pondered if dictatorship wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Do you think Naruto or Sasuke were aware of the sheer amount of paper work that comes with this job? Or the political-economic factors?" Sakura asked him. Kakashi shrugged. This was not the first time Sakura broached the topic of her boys with Kakashi. She had found, since her rise in rank and the passing of years that she cared less and less for subtlety. Her boys, the pillars of her life, had left her once before, just never so permanently. She had learned to support herself. She would carry them with her and unlike others, namely Hinata and Ino, their two names weren't taboo in her mind.

Kakashi carried the same sense as she did; especially given he had lost everyone close to him before Sakura was even born. The death of comrades and friends, although common in the life of ninja's, was never something the shy away from. Kakashi believed in carrying out his peers and teammates legacies, not dance away from their shadows.

Even if it meant Sakura and Kakashi never slept at night.

"Naruto was basically illiterate and Sasuke had non-existent people skills. The Village would have been doomed."

Sakura snorted. "Very dignified," Kakashi said, but he reached down for her hand nonetheless and helped her up. "We're very lucky to have such a charming grammar Nazi on our hands."

"There's a compliment there, somewhere." Sakura muttered. Kakashi ignored her as he reached across the door to the light switch, turning it on. The room, after a buzz, became illuminated in a soft glow. The brightness startled her, the second time tonight (or this morning). The faint dust from the bookshelves seemed to be drifting about in the stillness of the night and only with the ninja's intrusion into the room did it seem to settle.

Sakura sighed as the light showcased exactly how much work she had on her hands. The towering stacks of paper nearly reached the ceiling, barely scratching at the wooden panels. The large desk of the Hokage was tittering underneath the piles and piles of paper, scrolls, and what looked to have been several half-empty food containers. The two desks, flanking the Hokage's, though much smaller, were equally filled to the brim with assignments, mission statements, and the likes. Sakura decided she would have to bully Shikamaru or her secretary, Kotetsu, into cleaning the room at some point.

Kakashi crossed the room and stopped in front of the desk, careful to gently take a stack of paper and place them on the floor. He plopped himself beside it and reached for an inkpot and brush, then patted the ground next to him. As patronizing as this damn man was, Sakura's heart swelled at the gesture and she soon found herself beside him with a separate pile and the two set to work. It seemed, no matter where she was, he was there, ready to face even the smallest of problems. The two had gone through enough to make any more talk cheap and useless. Action was what mattered, And Sakura, she was moving towards Kakashi, ready to take her place beside him. Now, again, always.

Bejesus and everything.

"Ah, Hokage-sama?"

"Hm?"

"Under your fascist state, would you also make the uniforms pink? I'm worried it will clash with my hair."

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