Chapter 4
After sweeping up and discarding the remnants of Sai's haircut from her bathroom floor, Sakura flopped onto her couch with another mug of tea and a blanket snitched from her bed. On her coffee table, she spread out forty empty scrolls—twenty for her to write genjutsu seals on and the remaining twenty for the accompanying jutsus needed to release the genjutsus upon application. It was easy and tediously repetitious work, but it kept her mind busy.
When finished, she stretched her arms towards the ceiling and glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:45 AM. Gathering up the finished scrolls, she brought them to her bedroom, and placed them in a cloth bag to give to Shikamaru in the morning. Sakura gave an uneasy glance towards her bed.
She wasn't that tired.
She returned to her couch with one of the scrolls from her desk to study. This particular scroll was on loan from a friend in Kirigakure: it described a more advanced Suiton no Jutsu that Sakura was itching to experiment with, but hadn't found the time nor the victim to try it on. However, within ten minutes, both tea and scroll lay forgotten on her coffee table. Curled into a fetal position, Sakura had been pulled into a light, restless sleep…
I need to see him… Let me see him…
"Let me see him," she said, her eyes clouded with tears she was unaware of. She was straining against the tight grip of Kiba and the resolute back of Shikamaru—both were blocking her from seeing the retrieved corpse of Naruto.
"Let me see him," she kept muttering to no one in particular. If she hadn't used up all of her chakra, reserved and stolen, during her battle with Sasuke, it would have taken much more than Kiba to restrain her. As the body was carried away on a stretcher, a few shinobi turned away in revulsion at the horrible state of their beloved Hokage's body. Two or three even retched.
As the stretcher drew near, Sakura struggled harder, but this time, Kiba had enlisted the help of Neji and Rock Lee; both had already seen the body and were determined to not let her suffer the same fate. By now, she was tearing from frustration.
"Please! Why won't you let me see him?" Sakura was now dry sobbing and delirious. She was ignoring the deep katana-inflicted wounds on her back and the third-degree burns marring the porcelain skin of her arms, right shoulder and legs. Her body, on the other hand, refused to. Suddenly light-headed, her muscles contributed to her physical collapse by refusing to respond. But she refused to let go… of? Her hand was clenched around… Something… What was this? Her vision fading, she peered at her palm, struggling to identify the object she had refused to release ever since she'd taken it from Sasuke's grasp. Shadowed by the darkness of her remaining glove, a glint of blue blinked up at her from her bloody hand… His necklace… Her head hurt… She felt her knees give way… Kiba, exhausted but triumphant, quickly scooped up Sakura into a piggyback—she was too tired to struggle. She vaguely heard him mutter to Neji and Lee, 'We'll take turns along the way, yeah? I'd carry her the entire way, but I'm so tired…' She heard Akamaru bark halfheartedly in agreement…
Her last throes of consciousness… She clutched his necklace to her chest…
Your dream… Ever since I met you, I've wanted to protect your dream…
Naruto…
OOO
Farther away, the smooth walls of the Hokage Tower were interrupted by flickering shadows, all tributaries from the silhouette that sat on the sill of the tower's largest window. Shikamaru's fingers moved absentmindedly, orchestrating his shadow's movements, all the while staring broodingly at the wood frame across from him. The rain had stopped some minutes ago. A full ashtray and a small bottle of sake accompanied him… They completed this unsightly picture, Shikamaru knew. He gave an ironic grin as he found solace in rice wine from the memories he'd do anything to forget…
He'd had given the order to fall back to Konoha. As third-in-command, Sakura's current condition meant that he had to lead the team's retreat. Looking around, he was surrounded by wreckage, or what used to be a forest and the edge of a gorge. This battle with Otogakure had concluded as a stalemate… For now… He glared at the retreating Oto-nins, who were struggling with a stretcher that bore their Kage. He would have to write this all down tomorrow…
How would all of this look on paper?
'The self-proclaimed Onkyoukage of Otogakure, Uchiha Sasuke, had killed Konohagakure's Hokage Uzumaki Naruto…'
Shikamaru's jaw clenched…
'The Onkyokage had then engaged in combat with, and had been ultimately blinded by Konoha's Haruno Sakura…'
…Look at us now…
'The mission had been initiated on invitation from the Otokage. Hearing about the suffering of the Oto civilians, the Rokudaime had arrived intending to negotiate a treaty with the Otokage, a Konoha defector who the Rokudaime still proclaimed to be his best friend. Such benevolence only ended in bloodshed and an official declaration of war against Konoha…'
So that's how it'll look on paper…
'Troublesome,' he thought, the dispassionate phrase betrayed by shaking hands as he continually failed to light his cigarette.
…Was this what drowning felt like?
A smaller hand reached out and held the flame steady for him.
"Thanks," Shikamaru told Ino, blowing smoke into the air in what he knew was a useless attempt at disguising his vulnerability. She didn't respond. She knew him better than that. Instead, she was looking solemnly at the unconscious figure perched on Kiba's back. "She did good," Ino said quietly, unable to hide the tremor in her voice.
Shikamaru regarded the blond femme fatale critically: her perfect features were caked in sweat, dirt and blood; her hair, her pride and joy, was faring a similar fate. Putting a tired and injured arm around her shoulders, he said softly, "Let's go home." Both of their gaits were hampered by injuries, but by supporting each other, he was sure they could make it the entire way back…
Cannonading into his chest, a missile of feathers, fatigue, and fury interrupted his recollections. Peering up at the ceiling from his position on the floor, Shikamaru regained his breath, only to see a glaring pair of golden eyes aggressively forcing its way into his line of vision. The messenger hawk was a lot heavier than it looked, or Sakura was right about his lungs going out earlier than he'd like.
OOO
The lights were so bright…
"Where am I?" she asked the haze. She answered herself. Everything came rushing back, an utter onslaught of memories: the mission, running, his death, wanting to fight to claim hers… She couldn't live without him… She sat up from the hospital bed with a start and immediately regretted it—she'd never felt so nauseous in her life.
A large hand steadied her back. Sakura turned to see Shikamaru by her bedside. Sai and Kakashi were in chairs by the windowsill.
No words were necessary. The rain pattering against the windows was enough.
Sakura closed her eyes and crumpled into the sheets, burying her head in her hands. She gritted her teeth to silence a rising scream…
… But she instead leapt from the couch at lightning-speed. Immediately on the offensive, she forced the intruder into the nearest corner of her living room, spinning on one foot to avoid a defensive swipe from his katana, then easily segueing into a tornado kick. The intruder ducked and brought up his arms to block her next downward kick, his arm guards splintering into pieces from the force of the blow. He pushed against her leg to disrupt her balance, but Sakura flipped, sweeping her other leg up towards his chin. The man was knocked into the wall. Sakura wasted no time; one hand restrained him by the throat and the other, armed with a chakra scalpel, wavered forebodingly close to his mask... Mask? As she shook off the last vestiges of sleep, Sakura realized she had an innocent ANBU captain by the neck, one who was patiently waiting for her to let go. Peering closely at the mask, she then realized just who it was she had attacked—especially by the ring of small bugs that had encircled her wrist. She quickly backed away with an apology and bent to scoop up what remained of the arm guards, bugs lifting off of her one by one and returning to hide in the folds of Aburame Shino's tent-like ANBU cloak. As he coughed his way back to regaining full use of his lungs, she placed her hands on her hips and scolded tiredly, "Shino-san! Use the front door next time!" She looked down at her hands. "And sorry about these," she said sheepishly, holding them out apologetically.
Straightening his dark purple spider mask, Shino's deep voice rumbled, "It's an urgent request for your presence at the Hokage Tower. I'm sorry, Sakura-san. Hokage-sama had emphasized that there's no time, particularly none for front doors and greetings." With that said, he motioned for Sakura to just trash his now useless armor, and was out the window, a small frequency of buzzing lingering where he disappeared.
Sakura scowled and shut her window tightly, locking it with a decided 'click.' She sighed and rubbed her face tiredly. She might as well stick a welcome mat under her windowsill. Realizing she didn't need to change, as she had napped in her jounin shirt and pants, Sakura quickly swallowed the now cool tea from her abandoned mug. She first went to her room to grab the bag containing the genjutsu seals (might as well), then grabbed her vest and gloves from the kitchen table and was soon out the door. Showing evident skill in multitasking, Sakura pulled on her boots, threw on her vest, slipped on her gloves, adjusted the strap of the bag, and formed a tiger seal to lock her door, all while running at a medium pace. Soon bounding across the rooftops of Konoha, she was hidden quickly by a settled fog.
OOO
Shikamaru didn't look up from his desk when Sakura entered the room. Instead, he continued to pore over more maps, scribbling notes down on a scroll.
"You know," Sakura began, "When you send ANBU to my place, and they're not Sai, Tenzo, or Kakashi, please let them know that they should use the front door." She set down the bag of seals on his desk.
Shikamaru regarded the bag coolly and turned back to his maps. "Suna's declaring war on Oto," he said lightly, as though the statement was merely describing the weather, the color of the walls, or what he had for dinner.
Sakura stopped short. Struck dumb by shock, words failed her horribly. Instead, she was reduced to stuttering, "But, why? He has absolutely no reason to…" Her voice faded.
"And no, I didn't agree to Gaara's proposal," Shikamaru informed her, before Sakura cut him off with a curt, "I know that." She needed to sit. With no chairs available, she made do with the Hokage's desk and leaned on it heavily with both hands, head bent in near nausea. When Shikamaru finally did look up, he just saw a curtain of pink. Sighing, he parted Sakura's hair with a hand and tapped her forehead with a scroll.
"This almost killed me just a few minutes ago," he said. "We need to find another way to communicate with Suna because those birds are getting damn near murderous from traveling that far…" he mused, while Sakura scanned the scroll feverishly. She closed the scroll for a moment, took a few breaths, and then reopened and read the scroll again. Her eyes narrowed at one particular line that seemed so out of place and even more sudden than the declaration of war…
"What's he thinking?" Sakura asked in disbelief. "Why's he asking for…and last time we met, I knew Gaara didn't want to lend troops. He was just offering out of respect for-." She grimaced in frustration and scanned the scroll, as if she had missed all the answers to her questions. "He didn't explain his decision on here either," she muttered. "What's he trying to do?"
"Well, since he's asked specifically for you, I thought that you might have a better idea," Shikamaru said tiredly. "And what's with asking for something of Naruto's? His DNA?" Shikamaru expression turned suddenly apprehensive, "We don't have to dig up graves, do we?"
Sakura was still staring at the scroll, although her eyes were obviously not reading its contents anymore. "No," she said distractedly. She closed the scroll in frustration and tossed it onto Shikamaru's desk. Shikamaru frantically tried to pat down the eruption of papers that resulted from her carelessly forceful throw. Unaware of his dilemma, Sakura began pacing down the length of the room, hands behind her back, boots clicking in a rhythm that mimicked the frantic beating of her heart… A part of her she thought had quieted a long time ago. This was just too coincidental… Her dreams… The sudden resurfaced sensitivity to any mention of him… Gaara's proposal… She'd been a ninja too long to believe in coincidence. Still, she hoped it just was.
'But why now? Why is everything about Naruto resurfacing now?' she thought in frustration. She looked up, past Shikamaru, to the expanse of Konoha's rooftops, treetops, and mountain ranges. She forced her mind to turn back to matters of greater importance: the safety and happiness of the village she was entrusted to protect. Thinking quickly, she finally turned to Shikamaru.
"I need to go to Suna immediately before Gaara does anything rash. Pull Ino from interrogation and have her cover for me at the hospital. Don't send Anko on that mission with Genma—he'll be fine with Kei and Hatsuhara—have her cover for Ino. And don't tell anyone else about this mess with Gaara until I have some answers from him," Sakura said.
"How long do you plan to be gone for?" asked Shikamaru.
Sakura stopped pacing and slowly turned to look at the Hokage. "How long do you plan to be gone for, eh, Sakura-chan?" Bright blue eyes stared back at her, long unruly golden hair moving gently with a breeze that flowed into the room from the window. He smiled at her.
"Sakura-chan?"
"Sakura…"
"Sakura…"
"Sakura!" Shikamaru was almost standing in his chair, waving before her face. Sakura snapped to focus on pensive gray eyes, shaded by straight and thin eyebrows. Not blue.
"Sorry," she muttered, taking a step back. Shikamaru sighed and moved from behind his desk to stand in front of her. He gently took her face in his hands and bent down to peer at her closely. She scowled at him, averting her gaze past his earring-riddled ear. He grinned and tapped her nose, saying softly, "You'll be fine." Sakura's eyes snapped back to his in muted surprise, gaze softening nonetheless. She slowly pulled away from his warm hands and made to leave, but paused at the door. Turning back to Shikamaru, she said, "Tell Kakashi to meet me at the gates in half an hour. And make sure to tell him whom he's meeting. I don't have the patience to wait for him anymore." She lifted her hand in farewell, "I won't be gone long, so I won't send a hawk." She gestured to the rips from overeager talons in Shikamaru's mesh shirt and loose grey yukata, saying with a small, wry smile, "Since they don't seem to like you very much." A laugh so quick, soft, and startling that Shikamaru wasn't sure he'd heard it… and she was gone in a whirl of sakura petals.
Shikamaru reached for the pack of cigarettes hidden in his desk, away from the deadly accuracy of the various missiles thrown from Sakura's relentless hands. As he lit his cancer stick of choice, he realized, 'She laughed.'
He didn't know whether to be happy or concerned.
OOO
She had packed all of her gear and supplies within ten minutes, put on her ANBU/jounin shoulder, arm, and calf guards in two minutes, and was at the gates within fifteen. With time left to wait for her former sensei, she sat on the ground beside one of the gates, leaning back against the great, green, wooden partition.
The fog had dispersed into mist, coating every leaf and pebble with a grey sheen. She breathed in, trying to calm her beating heart. It would be raining again, soon.
Sakura closed her eyes slowly.
A cerulean gaze, twinkling in his tanned face, full of promises, potential, and loyalty. A smile—
They snapped open abruptly.
Her gloved hands came up to grasp the sides of her head. She applied slight pressure, as if it would squeeze out her memories. Her hands gave up and just balled into fists.
Breathe…
"Yo."
Sakura started and sighed with a touch of exasperation. "Hello," she tried not to say tiredly.
Her hands slowly returned to her sides as she stood. She turned to Kakashi. "Ready?" she asked. He shrugged in affirmation. Sakura looked at him critically. She walked towards him to adjust the buckle of his left shoulder armor. He wasn't so great at handling this new gear. His gray eye flitted over her face. Her expression was passive, controlled, calm. But tense and worn thin, all the same. Kakashi observed these contradictions, and sighed inwardly. She used to be such a cute little girl…annoying, sure, but cute. She was far from that girl now. She wasn't even a woman. She was just… A ninja. Of all the genin he'd come across, such a fate he couldn't have pinned on a more unlikely person…
Sakura was already running away at a ridiculous pace when Kakashi attention returned to the present. He rolled his left shoulder. The armor now fit perfectly without digging into his shoulder blade. He leapt and set his pace. As he caught up to her, he questioned, "One thing has been bothering me. Shikamaru said something about Naruto's DNA? But that you didn't need to dig him up?"
Not stopping, Sakura reached into the first right hand pocket of her jounin flak vest and pulled out a small envelope. She held it away from her and then let it fly from her fingers backwards into Kakashi's waiting grasp. Neither stopped running. Kakashi opened the envelope to find a torn piece of black cloth stained with…
"Blood?" Kakashi asked. "Why'd you keep something like this?" For a second, he seriously questioned the mental health of the petite figure in front of him…
"It was a mission of his. He came back hurt. I offered to wash and mend his clothing. I guess I forgot about it. It was buried deep in a bag in the back of my closet," Sakura said quietly, her voice carried by the wind back to Kakashi. She reached for a thin limb and swung from it into a somersault, landing on the thicker branch below. Her heeled boot pushed from it, using it for momentum, but a little harder than necessary. Kakashi swerved to avoid the medley of splinters and wood blocks that came hurtling his way.
It began to rain lightly. It wouldn't last long, Sakura thought, feeling cold droplets grace her face like a veil that she couldn't rip off. After a few moments, she forgot to feel them. She wasn't concentrating on how she was running anymore. She just ran. Despite her best efforts, her unfocused eyes showed that she was again a victim of the past.
The sun was gently threading its way through the shades of the window next to her bed. Her eyes blinked open and shut slowly. Strangely enough, she was warm. Embraced. But his mission was supposed to end next week… She turned in his arms to face him, aligning their bodies—they fit perfectly. She traced his tired face with her hand, brushing a few stray hairs from his forehead. He didn't wake. She gently eased himself from his arms, tucked him into her comforter and sheets more tightly, and crawled over his body to swing her feet onto the cold wood floor. As she made her way from the bed to her bathroom, she noticed his ANBU gear in a pile next to her dresser. She walked towards the armor and… Both his shirt and pants were ripped and stained with blood from the inside out… His blood… She turned to look at his prone figure; he was laying on his side, his back to her… The rash, senseless, baka. Always careless… She walked back to him, just in case there were still any severe, residual injuries for her to heal. She doubted it; although not completely efficient, the Kyuubi was usually quick to heal his wounds. She sat next to him, but the dip she created still didn't disturb him. Sakura sighed. He must be so tired… She leant down to wrap her arms around him, the side of her face lying on his muscled arm, her torso and thighs pressing against his back. Healing chakra poured from her to him in every place their skin met; she first made sure to keep him in a neurological state of REM. He had no wounds left for her to heal, but she rejuvenated his general cell production instead; she didn't want his past transitions into and from the Kyuubi state to completely knock off his lifespan. It was a shame she hadn't created this jutsu while Tsunade was still alive… She might have lived longer… There. He was fine now. She withdrew her healing chakra, but remained holding him. She felt sleep brushing her consciousness again. "I'll fix them for you," she whispered. Naruto opened his eyes.
"Sakura?" Kakashi asked. Sakura turned to look at him—he had moved next to her and was observing her with a cool gray eye. "It's a little rude to keep ignoring your old sensei. Especially after he's called your names twenty times. And thrown sticks at you." He held out the envelope.
Sakura took it from him, returned it to her vest pocket, and reached into her hair to pull out three twigs. She didn't know whether to scowl or laugh. "Sorry, I just," Sakura began. She didn't finish. She looked at Kakashi—of course, he had felt them, too. They had reached the shore of River Country. Sakura changed course abruptly, weaving her way through the tree limbs, Kakashi following closely behind. She skidded to a stop at the last cover of shrubbery before tendrils of sand and the sound of waves made their way to her feet and ears. Kakashi flipped into a crouch next to her. Both lowered their chakra signatures. They stared out onto the shore.
"Well, those are some of the largest Kumo-nin I've ever seen," Kakashi said lightly.
"I knew they'd use River Country," Sakura said grimly. She closed her eyes and felt for a nearby border seal. Sensing three, she said, "They'll turn back soon. Once they spot the seals, I doubt they'll stay here. They'll keep trying to trace our borders."
"Yeah," Kakashi said, "But while we're here, we might as well. Just in case they aren't intimidated by the seals."
Sakura sighed, "I should have sent out the genin teams earlier."
"And I should have saved a cat that walked out onto a street before it got run over," Kakashi said disinterestedly. Sakura gave him a disparaging glance out of the corner of her eye, biting back a whisper that would detail his incompetence with riddles, wisdom, and animal rights. As he was still sizing up the Kumo battalion, Sakura just turned her attention back to the fleet of Kumo-nins steadily making their way across the shore. She felt a rising stir of adrenaline. These men were here to attack and kill people, for reasons that couldn't justify the reaping of innocent lives. No other hidden village had adopted the no-kill policy that Sakura had engineered for Konoha: unless it was an inevitable result of self-defense, death was not encouraged to be the conclusion of any combat. But looking at these Kumo-nin, not one smaller than six feet or less than a hundred ninety pounds and armed to the teeth, she highly doubted any of them could fully understand what a no-kill policy was... Or even spell it.
Sakura stared out at the nin: her face was a mask of impassivity, even though her chest now housed a familiar, wavering cramp... A muscle jumped in her cheek from biting down so hard. There were people in Kumo who loved these men. Cared about them. Wanted to see them again. And did they all truly believe the hype of their puppet Kage? After a moment, Sakura realized she wasn't even sure of what she was looking at. She readjusted her gloves to center herself, cheek muscle still doing the hula and chest now achingly numb. Ignoring all that, she felt Kakashi waiting for her—his hand poised over his hitae-ate, gaze not moving from their soon-to-be-opponents.
"We'll warn them first," she said decisively.
OOO
From a distance, he was but a figure swathed in flowing robes, standing ground against the expanse of the desert and the sky before him. A few steps closer: he was tall and lean, graced with a straight-backed posture made menacing by the sheer force of his aura and chakra. His reputation preceded him.
"Kazekage-sama!"
Sabaku no Gaara turned to the source of the call, his fine scarlet hair shifting with the day's slight breeze. His matte teal gaze met the startled eyes of the messenger nin; the other man shifted his gaze immediately. Gaara had become used to others not being able to meet his cool stare. At first, they had turned their eyes away in revulsion, then fear. For a time after his resurrection, his people had been able to look at him with ease. However, as the years passed and his reputation and power grew, he noticed how much more frequently they now seemed to avert their eyes. Kankuro had assured him that it was in respect. As much as his relationship with his brother had improved over the years, Gaara was still unconvinced by much of his older sibling's logic.
"Kazekage-sama," the breathless messenger said. "This just arrived from Konoha." He handed to Gaara a small scroll sealed with a stamp bearing Nara-san's official Hokage seal.
Gaara took the scroll from the nin, his movements slow, steady, unhurried, and shuttered by supreme self-control. The former Jinchuuriki thanked the messenger with a nod and turned away, dismissing him. The nin bowed and was gone in a puff of smoke. Gaara tore the seal with long, elegant fingers. He opened and read the scroll, tucking it away into his robes when finished. His teal eyes focused on the horizon. The sun had just begun to set.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly… Something terrible was approaching. He had felt its overbearing presence in the wind. It had been an unwelcome haunt for the past week.
And then, he received that letter. It had resurrected old fears and hurts, and he was certainly not grateful for the presence of those particular emotions in his life again. Particularly, he had been worried about the ghostly-familiar stirrings of rage and hatred that had seeped from a dark corner within his subconscious…
His hand tightened around the skein of gold that had accompanied the letter. For some reason, he was loath to let it out of his reach.
Sakura.
Please…
Hurry.
OOO
"Suiton: Bakusui Shōha!" shouted Sakura against the tendrils of electricity reaching for her. The water she summoned erupted around her and rushed for her opponent, crackling with currents once in contact with the electricity erupting from the Kumo-nin's hands. She knew the jutsu wouldn't last long—it was only meant for distraction anyway. Using a kage bunshin to deal with that particularly aggressive nin, she skidded away to the cover of the trees. Once shaded by leaves and a hefty trunk, she took a few deep breaths. She was a little out of shape, since she hadn't trained or been in heavy combat for the past week; the influx of patients at the hospital made sure of that. And twenty-five nin fully trained jounin against two, however famous, wasn't quite the reintroduction to fitness she was hoping for. But, there was no time like the present. There were only fourteen left anyway.
Leaping out from under the shrubbery, she engaged two nin in taijutsu. She knew her affinity for earth was useless against lighting, so she hoped to busy their hands in close combat to prevent them from releasing their numerous techniques. She blocked a kick with her forearm and grabbed the nin's leg. Through a rip in his pants leg, the blue-haired nin felt a cold fingertip touch his calf. The last thing the Kumo jounin saw before passing out was the stare of sympathetic green eyes. Sakura had drained every single last drop of chakra from the man's system. It would take at least a week for him to regain the amount of chakra that he lost. And therein was the ultimate jutsu she had developed to compensate for her own lack of chakra: the leeching of other shinobi on contact, particularly skin-to-skin, which heavily influenced her decision to switch from regular leather gloves to fingerless ones. The development of this jutsu was her pet project for a full year when she was seventeen. While she had no visible wells for this stolen chakra on her skin, like the three diamonds on her forehead, with the help of Neji she had built a second set of chakra coils within her body. This chakra network traced her natural pathways, remaining empty until she decided to fill it with leeched chakra. Therefore, in battle, even if she leeched only one shinobi, her own chakra system would become a reserve. Her endurance had become limitless. The only potential drawbacks were the physical repercussions of channeling so much offensive chakra. To compensate for this, when designing her secondary chakra network, Sakura emphasized the veining of chakra into all of her muscles, so that there would be an automatic healing session if lactic acid should overflow, without requiring any of her mental concentration.
The other nin she had been battling paused in horror as his teammate slumped on the ground without any apparent physical attack from the pink-haired Konoha kunoichi. Believing it to be a genjutsu, he formed his hands into a tiger seal and blocked his chakra, "Kai!"
Nothing. He opened his eyes in bewilderment. The pink-haired kunoichi was now in combat with three other nin, senbon dancing between her fingers before being released with deadly speed, all the while weaving through offensive physical attacks almost too fluidly to watch comfortably. One shinobi was foolish enough to come within arms reach of the kunoichi. He was debilitated by a chakra scalpel to his chest. With blinding speed, she dodged the roundhouse kick of another nin, appeared behind him in a blur of pink and with two quick taps to his temples, he also slumped to the ground in unconsciousness. The remaining nin charged at her with two fistfuls of lightning. The kunoichi glared at the crackling energy and formed rapid hand seals: Ram, Horse, Rooster. "Mizu no Tatsumaki!" A swirling, high-pressured vortex of water surrounded the nin, redirecting his lightning attack to surround and overwhelm him. Electrified, the nin's body smoked as it lay on the damp ground.
"Raiton: Shichū Shibari" The kunoichi turned sharply to find herself surrounded by four giant pillars, each preparing to spit copious amounts of lightning at her. She quickly brought her leg up, and slammed it into the ground with a kick that split the earth with enough force to send huge chunks of rock hurtling towards the sky, the four giant pillars in pieces with it. One such chunk housed the nin who'd called the pillars. He was now staggering from imbalance and forced to throw himself onto the surface of the rock. The kunoichi leapt after the unintentionally ascending nin, leaping from falling rock to rock, climbing her way towards her prey. The nin now had gained some bearing, and jumped down from his now gradually descending perch—at the wrong moment. Just as he began his freefall, he lifted his legs to avoid a sweeping kick to his shins, forcing his body to fall in a horizontal position—just as the kunoichi intended. An ominously solid, chakra-enhanced boot came swinging into his chest, sending his body into the ground to lie in a miniature crater. Now falling, the kunoichi used the surrounding debris as impromptu missiles for her opponents. The earth began to shake from her rapid assault.
The nin merely watched in disbelief as his comrades fell one by one. He was still frozen when the kunoichi landed in a crouch on the ground, dust and dirt now mingling in the air. As she rose, her pink ponytail whipping in the wind, he snapped to attention. Running to his teammate, the one who'd fallen victim to some inconspicuous attack from the kunoichi, he sent the woman a fearful glance, grateful that she was engaged in combat with another one of the shinobi in his battalion. He crouched next to his comrade and checked for his pulse and breath—still alive. But what had happened? The nin turned to look at the kunoichi, who had just incapacitated her opponent with a quick punch to the face, one that sent him like a missile into the trunk of a tree… Sixty yards away.
The kunoichi focus was now on him. Her back was still to him, but he felt her chakra-laced intent. He stood up hastily, glancing at his prone teammate before glaring at the green flak-jacketed back of the kunoichi. She lifted a gloved hand to adjust her shoulder armor. She was taking her time.
"What'd you do to him?" he cried, swiftly beginning a chain of hand seals. The kunoichi flitted out of sight and the last thing Kumo shinobi heard before blacking out was, "This."
As the other shinobi slumped unconscious in front of her, Sakura's stomach coiled in warning: her kage bunshin had been defeated. Sakura disappeared into a whirl of cherry blossom petals, a barrage of kunai and shuriken embedded into the ground where she had stood. She reappeared a distance away.
Suddenly, the air was filled with the chirping of birds. Sakura's eyes widened and her gut clenched... Chidori…
"Raikiri!"
Kakashi's deep voice cut her from her from her reminiscences. Sakura shook her head in shock. Even in the middle of battle… Three kunai came hurtling for her heart and lungs. She spun, caught all three in between her fingers and with a flick of her wrist, sent them careening back to their source. The Kumo nin slumped in pain—she'd targeted his shoulders and left hand.
She formed the appropriate hand seals while running, stopping in the middle of the clearing with a, "Magen: Fukusuu Jubaku Satysu!" The remaining seven nin froze in their tracks, including the ones in combat with Kakashi. As they stared into space, believing that they were imprisoned to the trunk of a tree by the iron grip of its menacing limbs, Sakura casually walked from nin to nin, sapping each of their remaining chakra stores. Within minutes, Sakura and Kakashi were the only two figures remaining on a battlefield ripped apart by lightning and immensely soggy from numerous Suiton ninjutsus. Since lightning jutsus were only prone to wind attacks, Sakura and Kakashi had to resort to redirecting the electric currents with water rather than overpowering them.
Sakura began piling Kumo nin onto her shoulder. Kakashi caught on. He grabbed six jounin by the scruffs of their necks, three with one hand, the remaining with his other hand. In this fashion, they lay all twenty-five ninjas side by side just inside the border of Konoha. Sakura drained the remaining ninjas she and Kakashi had defeated earlier. Kakashi noticed a slight blue glow from the visible skin around Sakura's hands and neck. Sakura analyzed the direction of his gaze and explained curtly, "It's twenty-five chakra reserves, Kakashi."
"You don't usually drain more than four shinobi," Kakashi responded coolly. "Worried something's up?"
Sakura refused to look at him and instead rearranged one nin into a more comfortable position. Standing up and dusting off her hands, she disregarded Kakashi's question and said, "Our shinobi should be here shortly to take them in for interrogation. Ibiki and Inoichi-san are going to have a field day."
"I feel it, too, Sakura," Kakashi began. Sakura cut him off, "I don't want to think that this will amount to anything…" Her face suddenly tightened as if she had just remembered something unpleasant. With the slow pace of a recollection and the emotionless tone of relaying rather than saying, she added, "The dead should stay buried."
It was an unusually quiet following moment. She fixed an empty gaze on him, as if checking his face for confirmation. "Right, Kakashi?" she asked softly. He could only stare blankly back before she began walking away. The blue glow she had been emitting was now thoroughly diminished, fully incorporated into her second chakra coil system.
Kakashi didn't challenge the dismissal. Nor the subtle contestation she so unknowingly, easily wielded. Pulling down his hitae-ate to cover his Sharingan, he changed the subject, calling out skeptically, "Magen: Fukusuu Jubaku Satysu?" as he began following after her. Sakura brushed off the dirt gracing her pants as she said nonchalantly, "Genjutsu: Multiple Tree Binding Death. I thought I'd alter the original a little."
Kakashi hid his disbelief as well as he could. He was relatively successful; Sakura's back was turned. "Kurenai had said it was only possible for one opponent at a time," he offered, not mentioning his own agreement.
Readjusting her holsters and bag, Sakura said lightly, "Well then, Kurenai-sempai was wrong." She leapt for the trees, still intent on making record time to Suna, despite being set back by this small skirmish. For a few moments Kakashi stared at Sakura's diminishing figure, at the student he'd always felt guilty about leaving behind… Maybe, it'd been the best thing for her.
Whatever helps him sleep at night.
He leapt after her.
OOO
They entered Suna's gates with little trouble, as Suna's residents were familiar with Konoha's Haruno Sakura. After the death of Konoha's Rokudaime, she'd spent a few months at Suna's hospital, rehabilitating their health care system, and simultaneously earning their high regard. The serious kunoichi impressed easily with her humbleness and respect for Suna customs, even when she expressed her disagreement with any particular one, such as Suna's strict adherence to capital punishment.
The jounins guarding the entrance nodded in respect towards the two shinobi, intimidated by the unobtrusively powerful chakra presence both Konoha shinobi were famous for. They both hurried for the Kazekage Tower, the adobe and stone buildings passing by them in beige blurs. As magnificent as Suna was, neither of them wanted this particular visit to last for long.
As they drew closer to the Tower, numerous passing jounin stared in surprise but nonetheless greeted them warmly. What were two of Konoha's most infamous ninjas doing here? The pair was as courteous as they could be to questions and greetings while half-running. Once in the Tower, Sakura took the stairs four at a time, pushing past people with breathless apologies, reiterated by Kakashi, who was following closely behind.
Without knocking, as Gaara must have already felt their chakra signatures, Sakura and Kakashi entered the Kazekage office. Gaara was looking out the window, his back to them. He'd gotten taller, Sakura thought arbitrarily. Catching her breath, she stepped forward, "Gaara."
Gaara took his time to turn to her. Their eyes met and held.
"Sakura."
She waited. Interacting with Gaara took patience.
He walked slowly to his desk, settling into his chair as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sakura moved closer into the room. Kakashi remained by the door, gratefully slumping into a nearby chair. Sakura was right, he mused. He was getting old.
"Gaara, what's going on?" Sakura demanded quietly.
Gaara didn't say anything. Instead, he reached into his robes and extracted a folded letter, worn as if it had been read many times. Looking at it for a moment, he then held it out to her. Sakura grabbed for it impatiently. She unfolded the paper and scanned its contents. The blood gradually drained from her face. Her eyes hardened. She looked years older. Noticing the drastic, and not far from ghastly, change in Sakura's mien, Kakashi half-stood in concern, "What is it?"
Sakura didn't answer. She could barely breathe. She turned to Gaara slowly. "What token?" she whispered tightly. A tremor she failed to conceal saturated the question, as it was torn from the deepest, most hidden parts of her consciousness. Kakashi walked to her, placed a hand gently on her shoulder and pried the letter from her fingers with his other hand. He read it. His single visible eye narrowed.
No… It's not possible…
Sakura moved from Kakashi's tightening grasp. She walked around the desk, drawing nearer to Gaara's impassive, reclined figure. He was tense. Although his face showed nothing, his left hand was balled into a fist. Sakura knelt before him, her movements slow and steady, but her heart in her throat from fear, worry, and furtive prayers that she was simply dreaming a bad dream. Gaara eyes stayed fixated on some point past her shoulder. Sakura reached out slowly to place her left hand tentatively on his right. He still didn't seem to acknowledge her, although he tensed at her touch. Her straining eyes stayed fixated imploringly on his impassive face. After a few moments, however, she felt his hand turn under hers so that their palms met. His fingers clenched to grip hers tightly. Desperately. Almost painfully.
"Gaara," she pleaded quietly. "What token?"
Gaara still chose to not respond. But his left clenched fist slowly opened and was held out close to Sakura's face. She froze. Kakashi looked up from his examination of the letter and stiffened as well. Sakura's right hand slowly reached out, shaking slightly, to the object glimmering in Gaara's palm. Her thumb and forefinger gently picked up the object. Her hand turned upward so that it now rested in her palm. Green eyes met teal in unspoken conference. Sakura closed her hand tightly. She stood suddenly and walked out the door, shutting it behind her with a quiet 'click'. Kakashi could hardly believe what he just saw. Peeking out from Sakura's fist had been the end of a folded, tied skein of long hair. It was gold.
The exact color of Naruto's.
OOO
Icha Icha Paradise dangled from his gloved hand. Perched on Gaara's windowsill, Kakashi was too confused and distracted to immerse himself in his favorite pastime. The sun was setting. He winced as a sharp pain hit his knee; it had been sliced at by a lucky Kumo-nin. He had been able to stem some of the bleeding and hide the injury from Sakura so far. He looked at the clock on the wall. Sakura had been at the lab for thirty minutes already. He glanced at the Kazekage. Gaara was sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out before him, inked brush ready in one hand. He was still, however; his face a porcelain mask. Well, it was usually, but it seemed more toneless than usual.
Kakashi turned back to the view outside. He then looked at the letter on his lap. From Otogakure's Onkyoukage, it demanded the alliance of Suna. If Suna should refuse, it forebode the torture and death of a "precious person," mistakenly believed to already be dead. A token was included to assure validity and to hint at the identity of this precious person. Kakashi studied the handwriting. Sasuke's calligraphy had become crabbier, more compressed, but nonetheless comprised of broad, sure strokes. He sighed. Team 7 was an amalgam of paradoxes: Sakura—controlled but edgy. Sasuke—stressed but steady. Naruto—dead but alive. Sai—alive but dead. Tenzo—individual but cloned. Himself—old but not respected. Sakura entered the room and closed the door behind her. Speak of the devil, Kakashi thought dryly.
Her steps into the center of the room slowed before she just gave up and stayed by the door. Aware of the anticipation that was haunting them, she resisted the weight inside her throat. Hesitating, she couldn't look at either of them as she said in a slightly robotic tone, "The DNA matches." Forcing herself to take deep breaths, to empty her mind, Sakura implored with herself to detach as much as possible from all this. She still could barely believe anything she'd just discovered. If her highly logical mind was still reeling, she didn't trust the state of anything else she could say was hers—especially the blood that was beating so frantically in her ears. She couldn't even gauge how much slack to give herself. After all, the results had just confirmed her deepest doubts, deepest wish, and deepest fear. Things like this didn't happen. They shouldn't. Sakura was breathing too heavily now. She closed her eyes to quell the faint dizziness between her eyes.
"How is that possible?" Kakashi asked, after recovering from his own spelled silence. Gaara just stared at her. "I'd like to know myself," Sakura said tiredly. She held out the skein before her as if it were going to come alive and bite her. "An exact match," she whispered. She'd explain what she did know.
"The length of the hair," Sakura began, stretching the skein out between her hands, "Indicates that it hadn't been cut for approximately three years, when at least calculated with the average hair growth rate." She paused and continued, an almost imperceptible shake to her voice, "Upon closer examination, the keratin composition of the hair also implies that the subject… Naruto… Had suffered from malnutrition and extreme stress…" Her voice broke. She tried to force out the remainder of the diagnosis, but nothing came out. She sighed in defeat. Gaara had been listening, his facial expression frozen, non-reactive. Now he stood, walked to Sakura and led her to sit in his chair. She thanked him quietly, placed the hair on his desk and proceeded to place her head in her hands, squeezing not lightly.
Get yourself together…
"This has to be some kind of a trick," Kakashi said, a hint of uncharacteristic chill lacing his words. "You didn't try to see if this is some kind of concentrated genjutsu or henge?" Sakura didn't have enough strength to glare at the unintentional, but still sharp, jibe at her competency. She was used to it, anyway. So she chose not to answer. The question might as well have been rhetorical; she knew Kakashi was just as upset and confused as she was.
Sakura decided now was also the time to address the other reason she and Kakashi had traveled to Suna. Looking up at Gaara, she said firmly, "Retract your declaration of war."
"No," Gaara said stonily. "What you discovered only deepens my resolve to crush Oto."
"Then wait," Sakura said desperately. "Oto hasn't attacked Suna yet." Her face and tone hardened, "And you have no valid reason to declare war on them. Are you willing to use the lives of Suna shinobi for your personal issues?" Gaara glared at her. Sakura wasn't finished. "If you invade Oto, you're simply getting yourself and your people into a huge mess. One, Iwa is allied with Oto and conveniently, there is a huge accessible front between Iwa and Suna." Sighing heavily she continued, "Two, if your troops fight, ours will have to as well. The fact that Konoha's ninja code does not really resemble Suna's anymore makes that a problem." Her expression grew more pensive, "And three, don't underestimate Oto's power. Sasuke may be an idiot in practically everything he does, but not when it comes to killing people."
"Shikamaru thinks the war could be won easily if we fought in an offensive state," Kakashi noted skeptically. Sakura shook her head. "He's underestimating him," she said tiredly. "Shikamaru's never thought highly of Sasuke and he's also never fought him." Sakura rubbed her forehead and said, "Even if we did win, the losses would probably have future generations coining this war as the Fifth Great Shinobi War." Her voice became more aggressive, "And that I will not let happen. Not while I'm alive." Kakashi and Gaara were wise enough to not challenge this statement while within such close proximity to the kunoichi.
Sakura sighed. She closed her eyes and bent her head. She pressed her lips together and shook her head…
Both men looked away uncomfortably; it was unsettling to witness anyone, let alone a shinobi, let alone a friend, let alone her, teeter so visibly on the edge of a breakdown.
Head still bent, Sakura said quietly, "Please don't make this any more chaotic than it has to be." Gaara's forehead creased in reluctance.
"At least wait for Konoha to figure out what had happened. If Naruto is alive…" Sakura forced herself to continue, "If he's alive, so many things change. We have to be prepared for those problems instead of blindly throwing ourselves into this one."
Gaara remained standing, stoic. Sakura lifted her head to study his stern profile. Her eyes narrowed, not at Gaara, but turned inward at the memory of someone else… "Don't let him have his way." Gaara glanced at her pensive face out of the corner of his eye. Kakashi understood.
He broke the silence for her. "I agree with Sakura. Sasuke is just testing you, Gaara. He knows of your friendship with Naruto. He's playing with you. A declaration of war against Oto is what he wants. It solidifies the legitimacy of Oto as a sovereign nation. Since you'd be expected to side with us, in the international arena you're undermining Konoha's ability to fight a war competently. This is a secret letter," he said, gesturing to the paper in his hand. "No other country knows that Oto has aggravated Suna. It'll look like Konoha had no choice but to involve Suna because it was losing." He closed Icha Icha with a snap and returned it to his hip pack. He walked to Gaara's desk and exchanged the letter for the skein of blonde hair. "And quite frankly," he said, "I don't believe this."
"DNA and isotopic compositions don't lie, Kakashi. They can't," Sakura muttered in a monotone, face now hidden under a supporting hand. Her head felt so heavy.
"I was there," Kakashi threw back a little too quickly for his own taste. He grimaced, checking himself, before saying more calmly, "I saw his body."
Sakura tensed. Gaara noticed. Turning to Kakashi, he said, "So was I. But I believe Sakura."
"Don't get me wrong," said Kakashi. "I believe Sakura. I just don't believe in this." He let the hairs fall back onto the desk. His single eye stared at the glimmer of gold winking back at him. "I don't believe Sasuke." His voice had quieted considerably. If Kakashi had been any other man, guilt and disgust would be choking those four simple words. Sakura, however, knew Kakashi well enough to be familiar with the man's tendency to blame himself in excess, and somehow manage to hide it from the rest of the world.
One small sigh and one thought later, she suddenly lifted her head, eyes unfocused yet blazing with a steadily growing energy that distracted the ascetic quality of the fragment she uttered next: "But I wasn't."
"Wasn't what?" asked Kakashi tiredly. He moved to sit on Gaara's desk.
Sakura looked up at him and Gaara, her eyes wide and eyebrows creased in worry. "I wasn't at the funeral. I wasn't at the funeral preparations for his body. And more importantly, I didn't perform the autopsy." Both men stared at her, but followed her thinking.
"Are you suggesting the body wasn't his?" Gaara asked.
"I know it sounds farfetched," Sakura said quietly, "But Kabuto has been under Sasuke for a number of years. He's famous for his manipulation of corpses." She remembered, "When Naruto and I were fifteen, we went to an Oto base to track Sai down. Kabuto tried to throw us off with a corpse that looked exactly like Sai, but wasn't a genjutsu or henge. Tenzo-taichou was only able to tell it was fake by the markings behind the corpse's ears. I wouldn't be surprised if that little giveaway was perfected by now." A frown gradually marred her face as fatally belated realizations dawned on her.
"Who performed the autopsy?" Sakura asked Kakashi hurriedly, lack of breath diminishing the volume of her voice, but not the volume of urgency she didn't bother trying to hide.
Kakashi shook his head. "There was none. Shikamaru told me he was simply pronounced dead on the battlefield and taken back to Konoha. The funeral was immediately after." As the planes of her face rearranged to form an expression that bespoke volumes, Kakashi sighed and said gently with a tinge of exasperation, "Don't look at me like that, Sakura. You were in a coma. We didn't know how long you'd be out, so we held the procession as soon as we could to keep the body from decomposing too much."
"There are plenty of ways of preserving a corpse," Sakura began heatedly, but was interrupted by Kakashi, who said firmly, "Sakura. We argued this topic out three years ago. We are not arguing about this again."
Sakura glared but held her retort, resolving to save her energy. The tenseness she felt was being translated into her clenched fists and narrowed eyes. She was terribly sick and tired of arguing anyway. "Then who were the ones who pronounced him dead?"
"Ino and Kiba," Kakashi said.
"Kiba?"
Kakashi tapped his nose, "Sense of smell, remember? Apparently there's a difference in smell between the living and the dead."
Sakura thought for a moment. "Then wouldn't he have been able to tell if the body was really Naruto's? Every person has their own individual scent."
"Well, he didn't mention anything, so I'm assuming he didn't believe the body was anyone else's but Naruto's," said Kakashi. He refrained from sighing again, so he chose to harden his voice instead, "Sakura, don't fall for this. There is no reason why Sasuke would have planned all of this and waited this long to spring it upon us. Think of all he would've had to do to get to this point. More importantly, I highly doubt he would have willingly kept Naruto alive for this long."
Much to Kakashi's dismay but wry expectation, she didn't look convinced. She confirmed that with a frown. And then suddenly, somewhere transgressing her complex trains of thought, two pieces of the puzzle came together. She stood up abruptly. Kakashi and Gaara waited and watched as her eyes roved distractedly across the space in front of her, as if she were reading a text only she could see.
"My dreams," she whispered to herself. "Flashbacks… They're all…" Her throat was dry. She swallowed heavily. Looking Kakashi square in the eye, she said, "You told me before that you thought something was not right, too. Well, that something is this. I don't want to believe this anymore than you do. But reality is reality. We have to accept it. First, we have to figure it out. And I know how. But we'll have to hurry." She turned to Gaara. "Will you hold off until I'm finished with this investigation?" Gaara stared at her for a moment before nodding slightly. That was all Sakura needed. She let out a small breath in relief. "I'll send you word of what happens," she assured Gaara. He nodded again and moved to reclaim his seat. "Make sure you do," Gaara said quietly. "I'll give you a week. Then I'm moving my troops."
"I just need two days," Sakura reassured him in her rush to the door. She motioned to Kakashi, "We have to hurry home." As Kakashi followed her out the door, one could hear him muttering, "…no respect…"
Just before she closed the door, Sakura faced Gaara, "Try not to do anything rash. I can't be there to save you all the time." Gaara's left eye gave a small twitch at the reminder. Must she always bring that up? It's not like saving him from a pack of his rabid fan girls during each of her extended stays in Suna chalks up to that much of an accomplishment. Reading his face, her eyes smiled when her face couldn't, and she left. Even in her haste, the door didn't make a sound as it was shut softly behind her.
Gaara leaned back in his chair, exhausted. As he stared up at the ceiling, he could vaguely recall the person Sakura was three years ago… Before… He shut his eyes, only a small crease on the bridge of his nose giving away the stubborn turbulence housed inside his ribcage.
Was she any closer now to returning to how she was then? He was more familiar with the aftermath and didn't have any answers. His eyes reopened slowly. Was he himself any closer to recovery? He couldn't tell. Soul-searching wasn't a part of his daily routine. Understanding people was even less so.
But there was one thing about Sakura he felt confident in relating to. Gaara turned his head to look at the skein of hair on his desk, forgotten looking…lonely.
They'd both lost a precious person.
OOO
Squinting against the sanded wind, he attempted to make sense of Sakura's frantic rush for home. "What do you plan on doing?" Kakashi asked.
"Two things," said Sakura curtly against wind resistance. In this bright sun, he immediately noticed her skin already glowing blue.
Kakashi sighed and waited for more information. Upon receiving none, he considered his options: ask and provoke Sakura on a touchy subject, or stay quiet.
"Care to explain?" He chose the former.
"Not now," Sakura said stiffly. Kakashi was silenced, forcing Sakura to weigh her options. A wordless response was usually problematic when it came from Kakashi. She glanced at him. "It's nothing personal, Kakashi. I'll tell you, but not here. We're running in a desert. Less talking equals less sand in mouth." Her statement was aided by a devilish blast of air that sent sand into places neither Sakura or Kakashi would have liked sand to be in.
"Once we reach the forest, we have to rest," Kakashi said firmly.
Sakura, about to protest, turned her head to him angrily, but was rendered speechless by the pallor of Kakashi's visible skin. She skidded to a stop, throwing out her arm to stop her former sensei. Manhandling him with much aplomb, she took his arms firmly in her hands and glared at him.
"Where is it?" she asked gruffly.
"Nowhere?" he replied innocently, managing to give her a little smile despite the small bead of pained sweat sliding incriminatingly down his temple.
"How old are you Kakashi, that you'd be hiding injuries from me?" she scolded.
"Geezers don't age."
"Figures," Sakura retorted, but following with a sudden grin that all but declared that she had some kind of one up on him. Kakashi looked at the gloved hands on his biceps. They were glowing green. She'd gotten talented enough for him to not feel her chakra at all. By the time he'd registered that she was already pulling away. Kakashi didn't need to look to know the cut on his knee was fully healed. All the same, he rolled his knee experimentally; he'd gotten used to less talented med-nins on recent missions.
"I'm sorry."
Kakashi looked up in surprise. "About what?"
Sakura refused to look at anything else but Kakashi's feet. Wind pushed against her, strands of dark pink hair shuttering her face, but he managed to hear her say, "I didn't see to the health of my teammate. I'm sorry." Before Kakashi could respond, she had turned away, desert wind whipping her hair behind her. She crouched slightly and in the next millisecond, was bounding across the ever-changing sand dunes.
"It's alright," he said softly, staring after her diminishing figure.
Would he always be looking at her back now?
"It's alright," he said again.