Chapter 2
The Wet Laboratory was housed adjacently to Konoha's hospital, and was fitted with direct ventilation and a specialised closed circuit water filtration system, in a secured building designed specifically to meet the requirements of a biomedical facility.
Shizune's personal lab was a small affair with two work benches and a large water tank.
In one corner sat a white board on wheels, it had a tray full of marker pens that didn't work and every available part of its surface had been covered with long lists of compounds and complicated formulas.
The back wall was divided by numerous shelves which were studded with thousands of small apothecary bottles, all lined up in neat rows and colour coded to indicate the predominant usage for each substance.
The top three shelves were full of the various poisons she had both collected and constructed: hallucinogens, narcotics, corrosives, bioaccumulates, phosphodiesterases, neurotoxins, hemotoxins, cytotoxins and proteolysins.
The next three shelves were dedicated to the antidotes for each treatable poison.
The bottom shelves were less stringently ordered and were instead full to bursting with little pull out cubby-holes which housed a whole range of herbs and ingredients.
Shizune handed a small envelope to the man who seemed to dominate her work space despite his unassuming stature.
"Two tablets morning and night, after food."
"I know how to take them Shizune-san." Danzou said shortly, stifling a cough against the back of his hand.
"Have you noticed any improvement?"
"My mobility has shown some improvement, but I am still short of breath on occasion."
Shizune could see that it hurt his pride to admit to his ailing health, and even though he knew she couldn't tell anyone about his condition, he still refused to discuss it openly or in any more depth. It made doing her job much harder. She understood that Danzou was a strong man who didn't like relying on help from others, but he was not young and fit anymore. She supposed his reluctant admittance of being a 'little short of breath' was akin to a declaration of suffocation.
"Have you been taking that tea I prescribed?" she queried tentatively, "I'll make you a new batch immediately. It should ease the stress on your lungs."
Danzou grunted a stiff, 'Very Well' while Shizune jotted down some notes on his file.
"...if you just allowed me to examine you, I could--"
"That is unnecessary."
He was silent for a long time. She only knew he was still there from the quiet rattle of his breathing and the shadow he cast over her work.
When he didn't immediately leave she looked up from her papers questioningly. With one finger he pushed a folded piece of paper across the counter to her.
"What's this?" she asked unfolding it carefully.
Danzou did not reply, and instead stared fixedly out of the letterbox window in the doorway.
Glancing at the messily scrawled symbols on the slip of paper, Shizune could tell it had been done with a shaking hand. It took her a few moments to decipher the uneven penmanship and longer to make out what the arranged letters and numbers represented. A hollow dread began to spread through her. Cold and uncomfortable.
"...You want me to make this for you." She didn't phrase it as a question.
Her fear only intensified when he clicked his crutch impatiently against the tiled floor.
"Sir, I can't make this." She whispered meekly.
"Yes you can and you will."
"What is it for, may I ask?"
His crutch tapped at the floor again, "Shizune-san, I am giving you an order."
She bowed lowly in apology "Y-yes sir. Sorry sir. It will take time to produce."
He began to walk toward the door, the crutch's bone base skittered lightly over the tiles.
"Sir?"
He regarded her coolly over his shoulder.
"Well...If I do this, will you let me see her?"
He seemed to consider it for a long moment, and then finally grunted,
"Yes. I will allow you to see her."
And just like that Shizune felt the warmth return to her body.
After the door had closed she turned her attention back to the paper.
The compound was a particularly volatile one; a poison that corroded the internal organs until they sloshed around like wet puree inside the body. The slow liquidation of innards was accompanied by a complete collapse of motor function that rendered the victim unable to move but able to feel each stage of the agonising process. Death was slow and excruciatingly painful. With a few adjustments...an extra ingredient here, an omission there, it could be transformed into nothing more than an extremely powerful sleeping agent.
And that was exactly what Shizune planned to do. She had no intention of facilitating his plans...she had too much blood on her hands already.
There was a sharp rap on the door. A Root guard entered and regarded her emotionlessly through the angled eye slits of his mask,
"Shizune-san you have a visitor. He is not on the approved guest list. He introduced himself as your...snuggle bunny." The guard almost sounded perplexed.
Shizune tried to clamp down a sunny giggle and failed. It felt good to laugh. There wasn't much to laugh about these days.
She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound, "Show him in."
Genma swept around the doorframe like a tornado, bounding towards the guard and slapping him heartily on the back,
"My Gods man! There's no need for all this formality and red tape, I know my way around...hang on...you have a little something..." he began tugging on a loose thread on the guard's collar while simultaneously wiping a muddy hand down the black armour, "Wow, isn't that like...a violation of your dress code or something? Tsk tsk."
The Root guard managed a look of actual distress; shoving the invading hands off of him to inspect his sullied uniform. He tried to wipe off the dirt with his sleeve but that only spread the grim further.
"You should go get that cleaned. It's not good to let the standard slip..." Genma blithely continued.
"Yes. Yes that is correct. Standards." The Root guard beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.
"Sweety-Pumpkin!" Genma cried throwing his arms in the air dramatically and twirling towards Shizune, he produced a bouquet of sorry looking weeds from thin air and shoved them towards her, then hopped up to perch on her work bench. "You're looking gloriously radiant as usual."
He looked fatigued and dirty – Shizune could smell him from where she was standing. He unlooped a satchel from around his neck and set it down none too gently on the table top. It squirmed...squirmed, and he poked it viciously. There was an indignant sounding squeak and then the bag stilled.
"I am not even going to ask," Shizune muttered, "and Snuggle Bunny? Really?"
She took the bouquet and sniffed in the acrid aroma. Tangles of twisted stems topped with ugly white flowers were mixed in with trumpet-like blossoms with wide paddle shaped leaves. Shizune felt her smile broaden.
"Those are the ones you like right?" He swung his legs under the table while his eyes flicked rapidly around the room, jumping from corner to corner.
A shadow passed behind the letterbox window.
Shizune gestured toward the ceiling, subtly disguising the motion by combing a hand through her hair. She smiled vainly at the black masked face that peered in.
Genma could see it now – a tiny blink of red light encased in the white plastic of the sprinkler system.
Shizune spoke up with sugary sweetness, "Even though you couldn't remember what they looked like, you still got the right ones. It's so nice that you listen to what I say."
Ahhh...so they could hear her but not see her. That made things easier, even with the constant presence at the door.
He reached out, pulling her towards him by the waist until she settled between his knees.
"So, does Snuggle Bunny get a cuddle?" he asked, cheekily wrinkling his nose.
Shizune locked her arms around his neck and held him close to her.
"Progress?" he whispered quietly against her ear.
"Not yet, another month...maybe six weeks. These should help though." She whispered back, rustling the bouquet against his thigh.
He untangled their limbs and landed a wet kiss against her mouth before slipping neatly off the bench and pulling the satchel along with him, "Well Pumpkin, I'd better be grabbing a shower and then hand my report in, you know – protocol and all that."
His light pinch of her buttocks had all the blood in her body racing to her face.
"Bye bye sugar plum." Shizune snarled through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to throw her stool at him as he left.
She plucked one of the small white buds from her bouquet and squeezed it hard. A bead of noxious white sap rolled onto her fingers and immediately spread a light burning sensation to the surrounding tissue.
Genma Shiranui was many things - an opportunistic, perverted, sneaking, no good, womanizing...angel.
Datura and Dogbane. The rare desert plants were exactly what the doctor ordered.
Sakura sat on the wide sill and stared out of her window, allowing the cool glass to press up against her shoulder. A book sat open, face down on her lap; she had long since given up trying to read it. The protagonist's problems seemed infantile in comparison to her own and the romance between the main character and his princess left a bitter, resentful taste in her mouth. Her fingers smoothed the ties of Kakashi's headband, stroking down the fabric again and again in a compulsive action.
From her side of the estate, Konoha could be easily seen in all its glory, sprawling out under the fading sun like a lazy cat. The streetlights were beginning to blink on one by one, marking the end of another day with nothing better to do than think of Kakashi.
Where was he now? Was he well? Did he miss her?
The questions circled around her mind like hungry sharks. Every Root squad returning through the gates added more chum to the water...
Had they caught him? Were they still hunting him? Was he injured?
She knocked her head against the glass to try and change the track. It was honestly getting boring. Yamato had told her to focus on other things...that her mood was unhealthy. But it was so damn hard! There was nothing else to think about. She was still under lock and key within the estate grounds and she was still no closer to coming up with a solution for any of this.
Even her bed-chamber, which was large and fully furnished, with glass double doors that lead out onto a small balcony and a fully stocked library in one corner, felt claustrophobic. A ninja didn't need to be surrounded by material belongings, she would have been happier camping on the forest floor.
She entertained the idea of running away again...but she didn't know where he was. She was pretty sure that Yamato did, but he wasn't elaborating for obvious reasons. If she left she would be followed and would bring the whole of Root down on Kakashi – and she suspected – the resistance.
She wasn't even sure if she could escape. Security across the whole of Konoha seemed to be getting tighter. There were more patrols working across the rooftops. There was less civilian traffic in the streets. Tsunade and Danzou were rarely seen without a whole battalion of guards shadowing their movements.
Most of Kakashi's peers had left months ago. Gai, Anko, Iwashi... and many more. Their profiles lined the mission room walls. 'Traitor' stamped in red across every face. Those who were active shinobi during the reign of the Third and Fourth Hokage' seemed to find Konoha's new stance on foreign relations to be unpalatable. So they left. If they were caught they were executed.
Some had stayed. Kurenai had a son to think about and she wasn't the only one with a family to protect. The life of a missing nin was definitely not for everyone. Then there were those who were simply loyal to their country, whoever was in charge and whatever they were asked to do. She had thought Kakashi one of them. He had been in ANBU after all, and ANBU served the Hokage unquestioningly. But apparently being faced with an indefinite prison sentence for marrying your girlfriend was too much even for him.
He had friends in the resistance...it made sense to seek them out.
Of course Yamato hadn't confirmed that either.
She thought that maybe...maybe if she could get Tsunade alone again, just once, she could talk some sense into her. But Tsunade was still distant and uncooperative, and he was always there.
Danzou.
Sakura's hands squeezed at the book in her lap, bending its spine until it groaned in protest.
"Sakura?"
Yamato's head appeared in the doorway and slowly she rolled her head against the wall to look at him.
"You have a guest."
She kicked at the wall in aggravation. She did not particularly feel like company. She shouldn't take it out on Yamato-sempai; he had taken up the position of guarding her twenty four hours a day, which meant she could relax a little more than she would have under the claustrophobic guard of Root.
Root still lingered, monitoring her movements and activities throughout the estate, but at least she could read alone in her room without one of those black masks hovering over the end of her bed.
She dog-eared the page, knowing that she would probably never pick it up again. Kakashi would've chastised her for treating a book in such a manner. He treated his own collection with almost reverential care. 'Man's greatest achievement – the printed word,' He'd always said.
"Who is it?" she mumbled without interest.
"An acquaintance of a mutual friend."
Well that sparked her interest...
"Show them in."
The first thing Genma noticed about Haruno Sakura was the dark bruise like marks smudged under her vividly green eyes. The girl was evidently having trouble sleeping. Coupled with the uncombed mass of powder pink hair which was made crazier by the wonky headband sitting on her forehead and the large red baggy t-shirt which hung off her small frame like a potato sack – Haruno Sakura looked a total mess.
Not that Genma couldn't see what the fuss was about. She had examined him during his annual medical once...and he could still clearly picture how tempting she had looked with her hair pinned up in an elaborate twist and that ridiculously modest medic uniform hugging her curves.
He, like many men in Konoha, loved that uniform; a shirtdress which was conservatively long, brushing just below the knees and was buttoned throat to hem. There was only one reason to put that many buttons on a uniform.
He pushed the delicious mental image aside.
Sakura was obviously pretty despite her current state of disarray and had the type of wide-set elfin features which would mature into a much coveted and rare beauty given a year or two. Hatake Kakashi certainly knew how to pick them.
"Sakura, you're looking as radiant as ever."
She seemed bothered by his close scrutiny and self-consciously began smoothing down her wild hair.
"I'm sorry...but who are you?" She bluntly asked, uncaring if she came across as rude. Why was he addressing her like they knew each other? She recognised him but couldn't quite put a name to the...devilishly handsome face.
"You wound me!" he declared, slapping a hand to his chest in mock heart-break, "Surely you remember the most romantic medical you ever gave?"
Sakura's nose wrinkled in distaste. Checking prostates was never 'romantic'. Who the hell was this-
"Shiranui Genma," He offered her his hand and declared, "Special Jounin and messenger boy at your service."
Grudgingly she took his hand, and he wasted no time swooping down onto one knee and kissing the knuckles of her delicate fingers. Sakura laughed nervously, she had never been very good at dealing with flamboyancy. Her eyes darted down to the satchel slung casually over his shoulder that seemed to be...wriggling?!
"Shiranui-san..."
He released her and stood, "No no," he clucked with his tongue, "Call me Genma – please."
An impatient frown began to settle between her brows, "Okay...Genma-san-"
"No...Just Genma." He corrected with a waggling finger and an avuncular wink.
Sakura flared her nostrils and exhaled hotly, "Fine. Genma – what do you want?"
"Ah...Well, I bring a message, from your beloved."
Sakura's sluggish pulse stuttered once, twice, and then exploded into a rhythmic pounding that caused a sparkling swath of green to briefly fold over her vision,
"You have a message from Kakashi!?" she cried excitedly.
"Woah woah woah! Of course not!" He bellowed in a hideously transparent display of 'shock' and 'outrage', and then dipped in and whispered sharply in her ear, "If it's alright with you I'd rather the whole of Konoha didn't know I was jaunting around with Fire Countries most wanted."
Sakura clamped a hand over her mouth firmly, "sorry..." she mumbled into her palm.
"Well...what does it say?" she asked after Genma had gone back to just staring at her again.
He responded with a light "Can I ask you something?" and studied the calluses on his hands.
Sakura tempered her growing impatience, "Erm...sure?"
"What is a pretty young thing like you doing wasting your life for an old bastard like him?" he cocked his head to the side in a quizzical fashion.
Well, Sakura didn't see how it was any of this guy's business, and even though Genma was handsome in a boyish calendar kind of way, he still looked about the same age as Kakashi...
"Well, I err..."
"I mean, you understand that he's probably not coming back right? Missing nin are very rarely pardoned and it's even rarer to have that status revoked..."
"I made him a promi--"
"He certainly hasn't let your separation affect him; He's been drinking our brew and enjoying the company of our loose kunoichi..."
"...he...he what?" Sakura stammered uncertainly.
Genma raised a slim brown eyebrow, bingo.
"Why should you be stuck here, rotting away in this room? Hell I'm sure there are plenty of guys," here he casually gestured to himself, "who'd be willing to help you forget all your troubles..."
Sakura had stopped listening. She staggered towards her bed and sat down on the edge of its springy mattress, staring into the middle distance.
"-but Kakashi doesn't drink. He hates alcohol..." she trailed off, bewildered.
A numbness had spread very quickly into her expression, her eyes were glassy and her mouth had settled in a slack pout.
Guilt was an emotion Genma only rarely felt or acknowledged. For a shinobi, guilt was a useless emotion that only served to impair your ability to carry out tasks. Did he feel guilt when he gutted an enemy? No. Even if it was a woman or a child? No. Even if they were innocent bystanders that got caught in the crossfire? No. Innocence was such a relative term and guilt had no place in a shinobi's emotional arsenal. He could feel it now though, the twisting constriction in his chest as he looked over her shell shocked features.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Too much time in the desert.
"He isn't really having that much fun. The alcohol tastes like weapons grease and the women all look like camels...or are camels. He's barely talked about anyone but you."
He groaned internally as her face lit up again. She searched his expression for any signs of deceit, her vibrant irises making miniscule jumps from left to right.
Unable to stand her desperation any longer he decided to put her out of her misery with a small shrug and airy remark of, "Honestly. He's a mess without you."
A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth, "Really? You were just messing with me?"
Her fingers worked at the ties of her lopsided headband lovingly.
"Totally." Genma sourly affirmed. He obviously wasn't going to get into her knickers by using his usual charm offensive. The girl had eyes for only one man and that man was clearly not him – as absurd as that sounded. No, he had a feeling that Sakura's panties were locked and bolted and there was only one set of keys. It was a fucking tragedy.
"Look," he continued, "I even have a message for you..."
Sakura watched Genma scrabbling around in his satchel – which seemed to be trying to run away from him. He yelped in a most undignified manner and withdrew a now bleeding thumb, "Stupid bloody animal!" he snarled, grabbing the satchel by its base and upending it quickly onto the bed. A small bundle of brown and beige rolled out onto the duvet and began quaking with spasmodic sneezes.
"Who ya callin'-" a snuffling sneeze, "-stupid?" the ball grumbled wretchedly.
"...Pakkun?" Sakura queried, poking at it with an index finger.
Uncurling, Pakkun turned his squished face to snap at the intruding appendage, he paused before his teeth connected however, and sniffed at her hand.
"Floral Green?" His sniffing intensified, "Sakura! It's you!" he yapped excitedly and leapt up into her arms. Sakura giggled under an onslaught of long pink tongued kisses.
"You have to get me away from this monster!" Pakkun frantically barked, "He stuffed me in his bag with a posy of Dogbane. Dogbane Sakura! I'm a dog, I'm allergic, look at my face - it's all swollen!"
True enough, Pakkun's origami face did look less heavily folded than usual. Sakura threw Genma an accusatory glare.
"What? It's not like you can tell, ugly little creature."
"Who are you calling ugly?" Pakkun snarled.
Sakura patted the pug's head affectionately and placed him in her lap, "He's not ugly, are you Pakkun? You're beautiful."
The dog straightened his little blue jacket and licked at a paw with obvious pride.
"Beautiful?" snorted Genma, "My left testicle has less wrinkles."
The dog's hackles lifted vertically but Pakkun chose not to dignify Genma's comment with a response. He swivelled in Sakura's lap to relay his message.
"The Boss says;" and here Pakkun began in impersonation of Kakashi which was frighteningly realistic, "I hope you're not missing me too much, I just wanted you to know that I'm fine. The food here is crap, the company could be better and it's cold at night without you...well it isn't actually that cold, but it's certainly not as fun. I miss you and I love you."
Sakura gave a long juddering sigh and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.
The dogs chocolaty eyes widened fearfully, he ducked to nudge at her hand with the flat of his head and let out a high worried whine.
"You silly dog, I'm crying 'cause I'm happy," Sakura said through her watery smile. "When he next summons you will you tell him I love him too?"
The pug saluted awkwardly, leapt up to lick her face, "Of course!" and then vanished in a poof of white smoke.
The not knowing had been awful. In fact she had felt Kakashi's absence as acutely as if it were a death. She had grieved for his loss everyday...but everyday it had got slightly easier to accept. Now it felt like tearing the scab off a cut and then spitefully pouring salt in the wound. The pain came flooding back, the uncertainty, her insecurities...
She allowed the emotions to grate against her and revelled in the rawness of it all.
It felt good, extraordinarily painful, but good to feel again. She'd been like a ghost the last two weeks, drifting through her days without focus or ambition. Now she had the knowledge that Kakashi was safe. He still loved her. She was going to see him again, she knew it.
"...So," Genma ventured at last, "I suppose dinner and a quickie is out of the question?"
He was already out of the door by the time the vase shattered against it.
Tenzou, or 'Yamato' as he seemed to be called these days, was a diligent guard and protector. His wood clone stood guarding Sakura's bed chamber, balancing easily on the thin balcony railing while his real body paced the corridor outside her bedroom door.
Genma chewed restlessly on the metal projectile wedged between his teeth.
Surely the guy would need to take a piss at some point?
His muscles were starting to protest. Crouching for so long in such an awkward position only served to highlight the fact that he wasn't as young as he used to be. Not that he was old. No way. He just wasn't as...nimble as he had been at sixteen or even twenty five.
It wasn't only Yamato he needed to keep an eye on. The Root guards were also a problem, every entrance and exit was stationed with two rat masked ninja, in fact the whole grand complex seemed to be under lock and key. At least their patrol routes were fairly predictable.
All this security only compounded his belief that there was something seriously wrong in Konoha.
In years gone by, the Estate had been uninhabited, Tsunade-sama preferring to remain more closely connected with the Village, the Hokage tower had its own self contained apartment and was more than big enough for her own practical tastes. The estate had previously been used as a symbol of Konoha's wealth and power. During the reign of the First and Second Hokages, the opulent reception rooms and grand staircases were the designated accommodation for the visiting lords and leaders of the other shinobi nations. It was still traditional to house the other Kages' here during the chunin exams and during political meetings.
Although a direct descendant of the Senju clan, the Godaime Hokage had never been impressed with unnecessary grandeur. The woman was a gambler and an alcoholic. She enjoyed the company of card sharks and sitting on a well-worn bench in a smoky bar.
This estate, no prison, kept her away from the village and away from its people. She spent less and less time in the Hokage tower, venturing there only twice daily to receive reports and delegate work. It had left room for Danzou to transplant himself into Konoha's heart. He was a parasite, attached to her in every aspect.
Tsunade's relocation to the estate had been terribly out of character. It had been the first of many changes made, before the Kyuubi-kid vanished, even before Root's existence became 'public' knowledge.
Genma shifted his position to ward off the pins and needles that were sparking up his shin bones.
Public knowledge. He scoffed. The organisation was still as clandestine as ever, only now they patrolled the streets, took their pick of the missions and implemented pedantic conduct codes to all those not trained as they were. No wonder over twenty percent of Konoha's regular shinobi force had abandoned the mother country.
Finally there was some movement. A crackle of static. Genma craned his neck to get a better look at Yamato's clone through the trees – luckily the weather was warm and still, so he could easily make out what was being said.
The clone touched two fingers to the elasticated radio piece around his throat and then his original, slightly digital voice bled into the night.
"I have a meeting now; you will need to take up this position."
"Affirmative, moving now." The clone gave the area a cursory glance and then slipped over the balcony railing, dropping down into the front gardens and disappearing from sight.
Genma swung himself neatly over the exterior wall and landed softly amongst a border of yellow flowered shrubs.
He darted quickly across the grounds, avoiding the orange pools of light which spotted the grass. Using the bare minimum of chakra required, he scaled the wall and vaulted over onto Sakura's slim balcony.
The glass door was tightly secured with an iron catch-latch fastening. Taking the senbon from between his teeth, Genma began to work the lock. With a near silent click, the latch sprung open and he eased the doors open and slid into the room.
The sweet smell of Sakura's breath and the flowery scent of her skin seemed to permeate every corner of the room. A slither of yellow light could be seen under the crack of the bedroom door. Every forty seconds a shadow would tumble passed it. He kept on high alert, knowing that Yamato's wood clone was not to be underestimated. He crept stealthily toward the bed, to where Sakura lay tangled atop the sheets, wearing only a thin strappy top and a pair of shuriken-print boxers. They clearly weren't hers.
Genma felt a stab of jealousy. She was glorious. Her skin, bathed in silvery moonlight, shone with a subtle lustre like warm pewter. And there was so much of it on show. The boxers stuck to her thighs in the humid summer heat, allowing him to appreciate her long tanned legs. The pale blue top had hitched upward to expose an expanse of toned stomach and just a tantalizing glimpse of a breasts gentle curve. Her long pink hair feathered over the pillow, washed and combed to a high sheen now. Her breathing was deep and even and on her bedside table he could see a small bottle of sedatives, he could touch her now and she probably wouldn't wake.
He wanted to touch her very badly.
His teeth worked franticly at the metal in his mouth. He wasn't used to contenting himself with just looking; it was torture to a man like him. His fingers jumped in his pockets, begging him to feel the warmth of her skin and run his hands over her until every tiny pale hair on her body was standing to attention.
But he couldn't. He wasn't there for that.
He'd already picked up his next mission, a scroll delivery to Tea Country's Daimyo. It was far away enough for him to squeeze in a couple of days in Suna without drawing suspicion. He was sure that given longer here, he could weasel his way into her affections, but he didn't have that kind of time.
Who was he kidding? In reality Genma had developed a conscience. Sakura was just in too much pain right now for him to feel good about messing with her emotions. It was written all over her face; even in sleep she was worrying over him.
A bet was a bet though, and Genma was not about to hand over a near priceless collection of antique swords just because, for the first time in his life, a woman didn't seem all that impressed. Kakashi Hatake needed taking down a peg or two anyway.
He should've supported the Fallen Leaves months ago. He was legendary...they could've done with someone of his calibre on their side in the first months of rebellion. More people might have listened. Lives could have been saved...But no, he had stayed to serve under a Hokage who was barely more than a puppet. He had stood by while his friends and co-workers had been arrested and interrogated and sometimes executed.
And now he wanted in? When Konoha was on the brink of a misguided war and the situation was spiralling out of control? Well fuck him. In his opinion Genma was owed a little fun at Kakashi's expense.
Methodically he began to take note of every detail in the chamber:
The netted azure curtains which were billowing gently in the balcony doorway.
The bamboo framed photograph of her old genin team.
A romance novel with a cracked spine.
Then there were the most important details of all, he bent closer:
Chipped peach polish on her toenails.
The scent of coconut and palm oil clinging to her hair.
The clashing odour of limes and lilies attached to her skin.
A thin ribbon of scar tissue which started just right of her naval and travelled down below the elastic of her boxers.
It wasn't enough though. He eyes darted to the headband looped around her wrist. Sakura's own would have been red to symbolise her status as a medic. This one, nicked and dented through use, was a slightly faded navy blue. It was Kakashi's, he was sure.
With the utmost care he began untying the first knot. Proof, this could be proof.
Sakura's deep rhythmic breathing caught in her throat, her eyelashes fluttered briefly against her cheeks...Genma stilled, feeling the tension run right through his body. Then with a sleepy murmur she rolled over and continued to snore lightly. The new position made his task easier. He managed to loosen the knot a little more, squirming his thumb between the loops of fabric and easing them apart. Finally it fell free, and he slipped the headband neatly into his pocket.
Taking a dangerous and self indulgent risk he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. She didn't stir, but in the blue abstraction of the fading moonlight he could swear he saw her smile sleepily. He fled the room the way he'd come and re-latched the window, careful to ensure everything was just the way it had been.
The first luminous strands of sunlight were just starting to weave a golden belt across the horizon. By the time Genma reached the camp it would be night fall again.
They'd kept him waiting for four hours. He was worried about Sakura, even though he knew his wood clone was still active – he could feel that other part of himself – detached and foggy – pacing the corridor outside Sakura's room somewhere underneath his consciousness. He didn't like leaving her alone. It was stupid, she was more than capable of looking after herself...but he had promised Kakashi.
"Yamato, come in."
Yamato entered the office to see the Hokage at her desk, fingers steepled underneath her chin. Danzou's stony figure was a looming silhouette against the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window. He cast a dark stretched shadow which crept over Tsunade's shoulders.
Yamato stood to attention a respectful two metres from the desk and waited for his Hokage to speak.
"You look tired." Tsunade prompted after a long while.
That was an understatement; he looked like a haunted tree.
"I have not been sleeping well, Hokage-sama." Yamato said carefully.
"We know that you have taken it upon yourself to look out for Sakura, but your loyalty should not come at the expense of your health."
Yamato's gaze flickered suspiciously up to Danzou, but the man had his back to him,
"Hokage-sama, I believe Sakura requires my presence. Since Hatake Kakashi's defection," That word tasted horribly acidic on his tongue, "she has been struggling..."
"Has she really been that effected? ...is she...is she alright?" Tsunade's concern which had been so absent over the last week was suddenly tight on her too young features.
"She needs time and the support of her loved ones."
Although it was only for a second, a flash conflicted guilt flared brightly in Tsunade's recently dull gaze.
"Very well, you may remain at Sakura's side until your skills are needed elsewhere. You are to get some rest though. Here."
Tsunade pulled open her drawer and presented Yamato with a tiny vial of milky liquid,
"This will help you sleep."
Yamato slipped the vial in his weapons pouch, "Thank you Hokage-sama."
He bowed respectfully and left.
Tsunade ran a manicured fingernail over her bottom lip then stood to join her husband by the window. It was back again – the nagging doubts that had been nibbling at her consciousness – why did it feel as though she was constantly forgetting things, that she was missing something very vital? There were fragments of many things. Memories, events, concerns, arguments, love, fear...but it all stuck together, sticky and slow like molasses.
"What did I just give him?" She queried.
Danzou turned his bandaged face to appraise her with a hard, one-eyed glare.
"Do you really want to know?" He said with icy simplicity.
Tsunade's fingers flew back to her mouth in shock, "But he is helping Sakura; he is doing what's best for..." the room suddenly felt too small. She shook her head from side to side, there was something there...something, "Kakashi, Sakura...this is wrong. I don't want this...What am I doing to her? What am I doing?"
A memory dislodged itself, spinning clearly to the forefront of her mind; it was dragging others with it. Long tumbling ribbons.
Sakura's voice, shocked, "You're...you're marrying Danzou, Seriously? Have you gone insane?"
Another clicked into place...
Danzou, tall and proud, "Fire country does not need these useless handicaps."
Her own voice snarling, "I don't see a beneficial alliance as a handicap. This is not up for debate."
Images sparked into existence and then burned, curled, and turned to powder. More were swimming, drowning...
"-I will not sit back and watch this happen!"
Jiraiya...
Jiriaya!
Naruto... "Baa-chan...are you feeling alright? You've been acting really weird..."
An outraged gasp left her body.
"W-what have you done!?"
His fingers knotted into her shoulders, bony and cruel. The bandages over his face unravelled, spiralling loose.
Aged, papery skin.
Bloodshot sclera.
A bladed orb of red light...
The worries melted away. The memories collapsed - were pulled sideways and then cemented back into place. Crimson fire tore through her mind, a rolling inferno that engulfed each and every loose thread. The last ten minutes fell to dust...unsubstantial ashes smudging the backs of her eyes.
Gently, almost lovingly, Danzou wiped away the thin trail of blood from her nose.
"Are you feeling well my love? You tripped."
The words were a sharp contrast to the sandpaper roughness of his voice, but it was nice to know he cared...
He helped her into a seated position. How had she got on the floor? She must have worried him; his mouth was tugged into a downward curve that accentuated the deep scar on his chin.
"Is Yamato coming?" she asked when her vision had cleared a little more.
"He was here only a moment ago, don't you remember?" Danzou rumbled.
"Really? Silly me, I'm so forgetful these days," Tsunade scrubbed at her face with both hands, trying to relieve the pressure pounding through her skull, "I have a headache...I think I need to lay down again."
"I will have my guards escort you to your bedchamber."
The black masked shinobi' appeared instantly, dropping through the ceiling and landing without a sound.
As they shepherded Tsunade toward the door, Danzou turned back to the window and the sprawling village below.
"Progress report?"
A shadow pulled away from the wall, the dark inkiness sucking and shifting into a single solid figure.
"Yamato-san has impeded my attempts to get close to her. He claims she is not receiving visitors, although this is contradictory to his actions, he allowed another to meet with her earlier."
Danzou sniffed in aggravation, "He will not pose a problem for much longer."
In a typically colourless voice Sai said "I am also having trouble understanding the behaviour rituals of a courtship. I do not feel that I have the requisite experience for this task."
For the first time Danzou considered that perhaps Sai's thorough reprogramming had been detrimental to his ambitions. If he had allowed Sai to retain the emotions he had acquired while working with team Kakashi, then perhaps this would have been simpler, but even in their infancy those bonds had proved too much of a distraction. They had impaired his subject's judgement and made his loyalty questionable. No, the mental neutering had been necessary; it just made this task a good deal more challenging.
"Sai, failure is not an option."
"Yes sir."
"This is a simple intelligence mission. You need to gain her trust; you need to uncover what she knows of the Kyuubi's whereabouts. Is that clear?"
"Sir, I do not believe she knows anything of Uzumaki's location."
"Nonsense!" Danzou hissed, slamming a clenched fist against the windowsill, "She knows something, that boy was soft with emotion, he wouldn't leave one of his 'precious people' without some indication of his intentions."
Sai recognised 'contempt' and 'anger' in his master's voice but couldn't formulate the correct response. He had been able to once, but the memories of his time in Team Kakashi were sketchy at best, nonexistent at worst. He continued to stand to attention with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Failure is not an option." Danzou repeated with finality.
AN: So...what do you think so far? Another 3 - 4 chapters to go. I hope to update this again at the weekend. Please let me know your thoughts and do check out the other works!