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'And we'll collect the moments one by one,
I guess that's how the future's done . . .'

~ Mushaboom by Feist

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Sakura squinted as the morning light flooded in from her parted curtain. Belatedly, drowsily, she moved an arm over her eyes to protect them. A moment later, after a bout of sleep-muddled hesitation, she rolled over with muffled groan, bringing her duvet with her in a tangle. It was her day-off, and she wanted to sleep-in for once. Even if she didn't fully appreciate the free-time that was forced upon her, her body agreed whole-heartedly with the sentiment.

But her mind wasn't having it. As more confused and fuzzy thoughts became clear, so did her wakefulness. Restlessness rose up in her and her bed became uncomfortable, her duvet hot and cumbersome. She groaned again and struggled up into a seated position, rubbing a sleep-encrusted eye with the back of her hand. As she swung her tired gaze up to her window, she heard it slide open softly and saw her curtains flutter in the light and in a sudden wave of cool air. She couldn't help but smile as she felt air caress her face, her skin, her cheeks with the utmost of gentleness.

When the pale yellow curtains fell against the wall and glass once more, she saw a crouched figure on the small roof below her window. Kakashi was, for once, without his book in sight and had an arm bent around his back. She knew by the crinkles around his eye that he was smiling beneath his mask.

'Yo,' he said, lifting his hand up in greeting. Sakura used to dislike the way he was so casual and calm in all situations, but now . . . it was just how things were. It had become a comfort, an utterly normal fact of life that she didn't want to change.

'Mornin',' Sakura grumbled, pushing her pink hair out of her face with a hand, messing up her already bed-ridden hair more than before. Her hands fell to her lap and she blinked blearily up at her sensei. 'What's up?'

'Congratulations, Sakura,' he answered, bringing what he had been carrying into sight. It was . . . a Chuunin jacket. She stared at it, slightly disbelievingly, bemusedly and in awe. Even though she had known that she would be getting one, it was still a shock – a reality that had not yet sunk in.

It had been a week since she had returned from Suna – since she had taken part in the Chuunin Exams. It still seemed unreal to her. But she found that it was ironic, almost bitter, that she was first in Team Seven to rise to the rank after all that had happened in the last. A tiny part of her felt that she shouldn't be the only one to have this jacket – that one blond with a sunny smile should be proudly standing at her side, while he bickered over her head with smug, smirking boy. Absently, she wondered if her two teammates would be proud of her, if they would take her seriously now, if they would come home . . .

Kakashi proffered the jacket out to her and she took it, a small sad smile tugging at her lips. She glanced up at him, hoping that he understood the gratitude and the gratefulness in her eyes. The crinkles by his eye grew and he reached out and ruffled her hair.

'You did well,' he said, then he stood and turned. He looked at her over a shoulder, hesitating for the barest of moments, before raising his hand again. 'I'll see you at Training Area Sixteen tomorrow at five am, right?'

She nodded, her smile widening into a grin, 'Then I'll be there around nine-ish.'

Kakashi chuckled, then lifted his hand in a hand-seal. He disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Sakura stared out of the window, silently watching the world as the sun cast light over it and made shadows within. She sighed, running her fingers over the fabric – savouring the small, mingling sense of pride that rose forth. She had done it. She was a Chuunin.

She had finally beat Naruto and Sasuke.

That thought evoked nothing in her, dousing her pride suddenly, abruptly. Once, a long time ago, she would've been boasting to Naruto about how smart and clever she was, then would've asked Sasuke if he would finally go out with her now that she had proved herself worthy. Sakura let her green eyes follow the lines of the jacket, noting the difference between her pale skin and the dark green material. She knew that she was different, that much was obvious, and older. Now that she had the benefit of retrospect, she only felt amused and disappointed with herself.

If only . . .

No, she had changed. She had no time for regrets.

Sakura slipped the jacket over her baggy t-shirt and zipped it up half-way. It fit her and felt almost disturbingly comfortable – like she had slipped on a second skin. The jacket was a symbol – of growth, of responsibility, of achievement and of what she had paid for it. She could never be as happy or care-free as she had been when she had become a genin. She had seen far too much for that to be possible. She had felt too much . . . at one time, she had thought that was a failing in a ninja, but now she knew that no-one, especially shinobi, could escape that fate. It was what made them human – what made them hate the death and loss, and love the life and people they cherished. What made them fight and kill.

It was what made her wait for them to return. And want to beat the shit out of them when they did.

Sakura sighed, placing her hand on her chest. She felt her heart beat inside, so strong, yet fragile. She remembered how it had skipped a beat when she had learned that she had passed the Exam, even though she had narrowly lost to Shino in the final. How it had calmed at Kakashi's small touch – a hand on her shoulder – when the adrenaline had coursed through her system after the First Task. And she remembered the sadness that made her heart beat painfully when she had parted ways with Ino and Chouji, their time as a team for the duration of the exams finished, leaving a bitter tang in her mouth.

She told herself that it wasn't longing - the sad, pathetic excuse of wistfulness and remembrance of things now missing. She pretended that her heart had not ached as she had watched the easy banter between Ino and Chouji. She tried to convince herself that she was not wasting her energy on such silly things as wishing and sadness.

But, Sakura thought, a small smile creeping unwittingly onto her face as she touched her head and gathered the ghost memory of his touch into her heart. At least . . . he's here.