A/N: Apologies for the lack of updates. I've been busy in real life and, as followers of FKftD might know, I'm a compulsive re-writer. Because I don't plan out the plots at the beginning of a story and I don't work ahead-alas, not something I have the time to do-sometimes it becomes necessary to smooth out inconsistencies and strengthen the integrity of my worlds once I've got a better "feel" for them. Also, with more distance comes a more painful realization of any grammatical errors or any sections that fail to impress me as I reread my own work. So, other stories you might be waiting on that are in the process of being looked over before a new release: Cry Out, Curlew, The Bone Eater, and Where the West Wind Blows. Please look at it as an attempt to deliver to you the best story possible.

Hokage By Necessity

-Chapter Four-

For No One's Pleasure

Through the skewed world revealed by raising her glass, Sakura contemplated things that were clearly her fault. Naruto being the way he was-in hindsight, that might have been at least partly her fault. He was fiscally inept, true, but Sakura had never left matters in his hands so long that someone suffered from it. Naruto would have learned from that kind of mistake. He was capable of learning and had lacked only the motivation.

Sakura had never tried to teach him, because that knowledge was hers. It was what gave her a place, a purpose within the fractured structure of Team Seven. She had a place elsewhere, where she was not simply acknowledged, but treated with respect, deference, and envy within the medical establishment, but the heart was a fickle beast. No matter how successful she was, how much praise she garnered, how many accolades and research grants were showered upon her, Sakura was left unsatisfied, for the people she really wanted to praise her never did. And living a double life as assistant to the Hokage and head of the Office of Strategic Surprise, both positions of heavy responsibility and weightier paperwork, had left her without time for a personal life and saw her in a state of perpetual exhaustion.

If she hadn't been Tsunade's disciple, it would have been impossible. She was the youngest head of the OSS to ever receive the appointment. Almost all of her subordinates were in their early thirties or late twenties and there had been some initial resentment of her position, especially once Shikamaru became less involved in aiding the Hokage and Sakura had to devote more of her time to keeping the village running smoothly. Sleep, friendships, anything resembling hobbies, all of them had been sacrificed, except for the few tenacious friends who were alright with friendship in abstentia, like Shikamaru, though their relationship was more a professional accord, and others like Shizune who made it their business to intrude on her life on occasion.

And there was Team Seven. And of all the ironic things in her life, the most ironic was that she was closest to Sai, who wasn't even regarded by the others as a proper member, but remained stubbornly and oft times awkwardly determined to overlook the actions they took to make him feel like an outsider. Their closeness was more literal than emotional-Sai lived next door to her, in another tiny apartment that was the twin of her own. While hers was empty, his looked like a storage facility for an art school.

Sai was odd, strange, rude, but she had a key to his door and an open invitation. Which was more than she had earned from Sasuke. She imagined that their fractured, dysfunctional relationship was her fault as well-she had once tried to kill him, even if she had faltered at the last moment, and even after his return, she'd never been able to trust him as wholeheartedly as she wished. He was a stranger, who'd created his own team and left them behind, then picked up his allegiance again as casually as changing his shirt. When she'd been a girl, Sakura had thought that kind of selfishness, that disregard for others, was cool. Even now, for someone whose life was dedicated to the needs of others, she admired that, even as she thought it was despicable. He was the eagerly awaited prodigal son and her silent resentment, building ever so slowly from the initial rush of relief and welcome, had mingled with lingering feelings that she'd never truly grown out of. How could she? Sasuke, whether it was gaining his attention or attempting to bring him home, had defined her childhood.

Look at me, Sasuke, she'd wanted to say. You can't call me annoying any longer, can you? She'd wanted to be able to say with truth, I don't need you any longer. I no longer want you. And if he had come to desire her, when she could say with truth she no longer desired him, so much for the better. But that was a fantasy. It had never happened and now, perhaps, it never would.

Frustration and rage and sorrow had been felt with such competing urgency she was left without knowing how to express them, so she had retreated to the Hokage's office and locked the doors and dismissed the ANBU. With the current power vacuum, she hadn't known if they would obey, but she could no longer sense them as she half-sprawled atop the great desk, paperwork relegated to neat stacks on the floor before she'd lost all momentum.

Her fault that they'd been unable to cure the Hokage and Sasuke. Her fault that they still did not know what had caused the deaths of twenty-seven people. Her defeat, on the very field where she was supposed to have the advantage. They had called her a genius, a prodigy, a second coming of her mentor, but when it had really counted, she had failed.

To Sakura, blind in her self-hatred, it did not matter that dozens of other people, each as qualified as she was, had also failed to isolate, cultivate, and treat their unknown pathogen. The failure was hers alone-each of them had done their best, but she expected something more than that from herself.

Her immediate and inflexible implementation of quarantine protocol had been unpopular, but it was what had stopped the spread of the virus into the population at large, allowing it to burn itself out in spectacular fashion within the hospital, taking twice as many of the medical staff as it had anyone else. She was glad, with a fierceness that burned through her, that she hadn't allowed it to escape and spread. And she was proud, prouder than she knew how to express, that not a single medic or nurse, even as their fellows lay dying, had flinched away from treating the patients they'd been assigned to.

That was what she told herself, because simply stopping it wasn't enough. Not for her. Not for anyone on the staff or the lab teams, who'd labored ceaselessly, looking for the agent. The labs had even cooperated, something remarkable in itself, but to no avail. No one knew what it was. Simply the symptoms. Simply that it had taken their brightly shining Hokage away. Not forever. His body wouldn't decay and she'd shut down his organs without damaging them, preserving him until a treatment could be discovered and tested. He could be woken, could be cured, could be reinstated.

But it would not happen today. And it would not happen tomorrow.

Sakura had thought she hated her clockwork life, that it was as empty and cold and sterile as her labs. And it had been all those things. But it had been comforting in its very predictability, appealing in its sameness. In a sudden fit of pique, she threw the half-full glass, watching with satisfaction as it shattered against the door, amber liquid seeping down the grain of the wood..

"Sakura," a slightly muffled voice scolded from outside.

It was Izumo. And, as always, Kotetsu was with him. They'd arrived sometime after she'd sealed the doors and had been as unobtrusive as possible until now. Sakura had been ignoring them, but now she allowed her back to meet the desk with a thump, legs hanging awkwardly off the side, light from the windows stinging her eyes.

When she could pretend she had privacy, Sakura had shoved away the thought of what must happen next. But now reality intruded among her self-pity and alcohol bottles. "Has Kakashi returned yet?" she asked.

"No," Kotetsu replied. "They think it'll be another day or two. The messenger was having trouble contacting him. The elders want to know when you can meet with them."

"Shizune reported to them already," Sakura grumbled sourly.

There was a marked hesitation in Izumo's voice when he spoke. "I don't think they'll ask you about Naruto's condition."

Sakura splayed her hands above her head, watching in half-drunk fascination the way the light parted around her fingers, turning the outer edges almost translucent. "Oh?"

"Now isn't the time to play dumb, Sakura," Kotetsu said. "You know that you're a candidate to replace Naruto. According to the elders, you're the candidate."

"Kakashi should be their choice," Sakura snapped. "He has seniority, reputation, and experience. Or if not him, then Nara Shikamaru. If his age is a problem, appoint Hyuuga Hiashi. There should be an entire list of candidates before they ever consider me."

Izumo's voice was low and reasonable, like he thought he was speaking to an enraged animal, which did nothing to soothe Sakura.

"Sakura, they don't want the Shichidaime to be another Rokudaime. Konoha is no longer at war-it doesn't need another frontlines shinobi at its helm. Naruto used you as his intermediary so often that they say so far as they were concerned, you were the voice of the Hokage's office. They don't see a problem with making it official. And, while Kakashi-sempai is an immensely talented ninja, some of his personal habits make it objectionable that he should assume the office. The elders would prefer their meetings start on time, for example, rather than five hours later. You've seen what his paperwork looks like-" he rather suddenly fell silent and Sakura's brows dipped in consternation.

Then another voice, familiar and not at all welcome in her current state, made itself heard. "In short, we do not believe he would curb his personal eccentricities for the office. People do not change when they are given power. The characteristics they already possessed are simply emphasized, just as was the case with the Rokudaime." There was a short pause and Sakura warily rose. "Closing the door will not put an end to your problems," the voice informed her.

Hyuuga Daichi was the maternal grandfather of Hyuuga Hinata and head of the Elder Council after the passing of the Sandaime's advisors during the last years of Tsunade-shishou's term as Kage. Sakura was told that he was fond of her, but she had seen no evidence of it. Her hands trembled and she fisted them, blunt nails digging into her palms. The dulling haze of alcohol had been torn away the moment she recognized the autocratic tone.

"Mourning is something done in private," she answered tightly.

"Not in the Hokage's office."

The muscles in Sakura's jaw clenched. "With respect, I hardly had time for my obligations to the Office of Strategic Surprise while being the Hokage's assistant. At this point, I feel it is most important to prioritize my research, so I can return Naruto to his office as soon as possible."

She felt her seal waver and crack and Daichi strolled into the office, hands loosely behind his back. Without making eye contact, he walked past her to gaze out the window. Sakura realized she had subconsciously dropped into a battle stance and straightened.

"You feel, is it? Yes, I suppose that is true. You were close with the Kage. But that is not what you think. You are more intelligent than that, Sakura. Konohagakure no Sato is at her most vulnerable without a Hokage and your transition would be both quick and seamless."

"It would feel inappropriate," Sakura said, eyes focused on the great desk, chair empty behind it. "Besides, what would Naruto think?"

"Again. Your feelings have no place here. I am only interested in what your mind has to say, rather than your heart. And Naruto swore, when he took this office, that he would die for this village if it ever became necessary. He was to do whatever it took to protect this village. And, at this moment, what is in the best interest of Konoha is that the village he put before himself continues to be first in your priorities."

Sakura took a deep breath. She intended to give him a reasonable answer. It would have been cogent, intelligent, reasonable. But then there came the sound of shattering glass and Sakura realized she'd crossed the room to Daichi's side, smashing her palm against the wall with such strength that every pane of glass in the office had shattered. "He's my friend!" she shouted. "He-!" Her voice caught in her throat. "He hasn't even been in stasis for a whole day and you're considering who should replace him!" Her voice rose in pitch until it was a wild shriek.

Daichi turned to face her slowly. His pale eyes were eerie, judgmental. The eyes of the all-seeing Hyuuga, inhuman and, at this moment, distant from her suffering. "Kamizuki, Hagane, close the doors and reseal them. This time, not even sound escapes."

Izumo and Kotetsu obeyed with alacrity. Sakura's ears popped as the seal snapped into place, shimmering light coating a glass no longer there. "What are you doing?" she asked in a low voice.

"Protecting the reputation of my Hokage, when it's apparent she's about to break. Do you know what makes you a better diplomat than Naruto?"

"Yes," Sakura snarled. "Because Naruto's always honest, for better or for worse. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I think you're habitually dishonest with yourself," Daichi said bluntly. "You came here, rather than returning to your apartment. Your expression tells me you'd like nothing more than to break down and cry, but you've forgotten how."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

Sakura ground her teeth together. "I just don't have time to cry," she told him hoarsely. "And I'm sick to death of it. Crying means I've failed and my life is nothing but a string of failures!" This time it was her fist that sunk into the wall.

They regarded each other for a moment, Sakura with her eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights, her hair still pulled back tightly, now sticking up at odd angles from laying on the desk. Daichi was a Hyuuga-by definition, he was more put together than Sakura was at her best moments, his long hair gone iron grey, mature but still handsome. "You have been in the eyes of the Council for years now and I think any of us would agree that all your 'failures' are well in the past and best left there. What matters is the present-this village does not have time to pick the pieces up if you do not grieve now and break down completely in the future."

Sakura threw her hands up in frustration. "If I can't cry alone, can't cry in front of people who love me, what makes you think I'd cry in front of you?" Sakura demanded. "Leave me alone, Hyuuga! If you want me to grieve, then leave! You're rushing things. There were weeks between the death of the Third and the appointment of the Fourth. And that was when Orochimaru was still considered a threat!"

"We had more ninja then," Daichi replied calmly. "And there was no other choice, until Tsunade-sama could be located. It was a different situation. Have you considered that this was no accident?"

Sakura froze. "You're implying that this was something intentional? From Iwa? I know our relations with them were more strained after Onoki's successor became Tsuchikage, because Kitsuchi thought that Sasuke should have been at the very least imprisoned, but the reports-even if something underhanded like this does scream their modus operandi-don't indicate that they'd use a bio-weapon. After all, Sasuke was conducting a mission in their territory; if they'd assassinated him, we wouldn't have a legal leg to stand on. And it was only Sasuke they had a problem with. Otherwise, the peace is benefitting trade, which means that the merchants are generating more missions, which translates into more money in the coffers. It's counter-intuitive to endanger that unless they have a larger objective."

Suddenly needing to move, Sakura paced in the limited space, whirling around to glare at Daichi. "Even if Iwa did do something like this, their bio-weapon programs are ten years behind mine," she told him flatly. "Konohagakure is in possession of the largest library of parasites, viruses, and bacteria on the continent and yet we can't get this thing to replicate on a single cell line so we can isolate it and compare it to them. With something as contagious and virulent as whatever this is, only idiots would try to manipulate it in anything less than a Level 4 lab and Iwa is lucky to be able to afford a single Level 3. It's probably something endemic in some little pocket of Iwa and Sasuke was just unlucky enough to be infected."

"But the possibility remains," Daichi told her. "And you are only taking the hidden village into consideration. And even then, you are applying Tsunade-sama's strict protocols to a place that is...backward in many ways."

Sakura stared at the older man unhappily. "I don't want to be Hokage," she told him. "I want to cure Naruto and Sasuke. I'll take care of an inquiry into the possibility this was an intentional attack, but find someone else. Besides, no matter what you tell me, there's something that won't change-I'm not suited to be Hokage. I don't have the charisma or the talent."

Daichi frowned at her. "Nara Shikamaru, in his function as jounin commander, told the council he was certain he could give you a majority and allow you to take the office."'

"If you spoke to Shikamaru, why didn't you offer the position to him? He's already jounin commander, so the majority vote is a given, and they're accustomed to taking his orders. You don't want another Rokudaime? Fine. Shikamaru's the most brilliant tactical mind of our generation and while he's not exactly a consummate politician, he's the head of an influential clan. He knows how to manage people and resources. Objectively, he's a better choice than Naruto. And an infinitely better choice than me," she stated flatly.

"That is only partially true," Daichi refuted. "Nara Shikamaru is indeed a uniquely talented individual. But he lacks drive and ambition and his natural instinct for tactics is reactive-he does not seek to thwart enemies before they become enemies, only to deny them once they've declared themselves his opponent. Have you ever seen him go out of his way to address a situation?"

Sakura scowled, because she was familiar with Shikamaru's character flaws, though being content with one's place in life wasn't exactly a flaw, per se.

"He prefers to support, not lead. And he was receptive to the idea of you being that leader."

"Dammit, Shikamaru," Sakura hissed between her teeth. "You should at least call a proper meeting of the jounin first," she said, switching tactics. If blank denial would not work, she could at least delay him with procedure.

"That's a courtesy, not a necessity," Daichi told her without even a moment's hesitation. "We only need them to approve our candidate, not suggest one themselves."

"If you do this," Sakura threatened, "there will those who suggest I'm being negligent in searching for the cause of all this."

"Then they are fools and you may feel free to ignore them. Becoming Hokage might limit your personal time in the laboratory, yes, but it leaves you with more freedom to pursue any line of inquiry. As Hokage, you could even request a meeting with the Tsuchikage to discuss this in person. As it is now, we are relying on Iwa's goodwill for a response. It is possible we could ask the Daimyo to exert political pressure on his counterpart, but that is a last resort. If we involve an outsider, we risk turning a simple question into an insult."

"'Did this deadly virus originate from your country?' is not a simple question," Sakura retorted, kneading her temples.

Daichi somehow managed to convey the impression of a shrug with nothing but his eyebrows.

"Can I have time to consider this?" she asked.

"Yes," Daichi said, his lips turning upward faintly. "But you must reach your decision before leaving this room."

A/N: Not clear on whether it should be Shichidaime or Nanadaime. Both are acceptable readings of seven in Japanese and I didn't know which would be appropriate in this case, so I went with Shichidaime, which better suited my purposes. Also, after FKftD, it feels bizarre to write a fic of this scope without Neji. Of course, if this was canon, I could resurrect him as needed or useful to the plot. I finally read the newest chapters. We'll leave it at that.