Anime/Manga » Naruto » Persephone's Harvest
Notes: I forgot if I had a plot for this?
Chapter: 4/6
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An evil twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

o.o.o

"Shishou! I'm coming in!"

"Don't," was the welcoming reply. Sakura unlocked the door, left the key on the doormat, and waltzed on in. Denatsu was at the bench, attempting to make herself something to eat. It was salad. It was the only thing she knew how to prepare that didn't require sharp utensils. "Why knock if you won't listen?"

"Manners." Sakura sat on the kitchen counter. "I passed by the way."

"Okay."

"I'm a chūnin now!"

"O-kay,"

"I delivered a few blood clots to, um, nearly all of the contestants." The strength wasn't a Thing for Sakura, but short controlled bursts of chakra from her fingertips upon contact? She had that down.

That teased a smile out of her. "No heart attacks?"

"None. Lots of deep vein thrombosis though. Have you been doing this for the past two weeks?"

Denatsu side-eyed her. "It's none of your business. Get off my bench; food goes there." Sakura slid off the counter. "As soon as I finish my salad, we're going to train."

"You're kidding right? Right?" She was not kidding. "...I'll go and change. Can I use your shower?"

"No," said Denatsu, except Sakura was already halfway to the bathroom. Denatsu let her; she'd pay the chūnin back for the disrespect by making her run laps on her hands. That'd show her.

o.o.o

"I expected you to lose your patience with this by now."

"If I can suffer through shogi with Shikamaru – "

"Shogi that you lose at?"

" – then I can deal with this."

Yamanaka Ino, otherwise known as Sakura's favourite person to be on a mission with (or be around in general), was doubtful. Today's mission – or technically, tonight's mission – was basic infiltration and intel retrieval. Ino and Sakura had similar enough ways of fighting that synchronising wasn't hard, so they were paired for most assignments, though it was a big hit on variety; thankfully, that's what Kiba was there for.

"You have to admit," Ino broke off as a guard patrolled through their area. The kunoichi kept their silence until he was well out of earshot. "It's taking him suspiciously long."

"It's okay."

"Is it?"

Usually, no. But Denatsu had spent far too long emphasising the benefits of subtlety and patience for none of it to go to her head. "I can wait a little longer,"

If it wouldn't have literally killed her, Ino might have giggled. "I bet you'll snap in – "

Alarms blared through the mansion. Sakura couldn't deny herself a smug look directed at the blonde, who rolled her eyes. Ino surrendered her opportunity to reply, sealing her lips as a squadron of mercenaries and ronin flooded the halls, seeking the intruder. As soon as Ino signed 'clear,' the kunoichi were off. Ino dealt with the left wing, Sakura the right.

'I hope Kiba is okay,' Sakura had been the one to volunteer him for distraction duty. He was flashy, loud, and Akamaru was with him. He was infinitely more qualified for the job than Ino or Sakura. 'Neji will help him if necessary.'

Neji was handling the other half of the distraction. The mansion owner, Hisoka, was a jōnin level ronin. If the kunoichi wanted any chance of actually retrieving the important documents from Hisoka's office, they kind of needed him to not be in it. Also, they had no idea where the office was so they needed time to search.

"Our intel sucks."

Sakura pressed the radio in her ear. "Pig. No chatter."

"I'm just saying…" Sakura slid into a room. There was a four-posted bed in the middle, samurai armour displayed proudly on the wall. Sakura made an interested noise. "Did you find it?"

"No, just the master bedroom. Is it bad that I want to steal some of his stuff?"

"It's kind of our job, Billboard Brow."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "His old samurai uniform. It's sitting right there. Polished to perfection. I'm tempted."

"Whatever you do, don't steal the sword. Don't want to see if that superstition is true. Just find the office."

Sakura pressed her lips together. "I'm taking the sword."

"Oh my god."

Sakura took the sword. She didn't plan on using it – she wasn't an idiot – but she saw no harm in robbing a ronin of his weapon. It was the safest option.

"Aha, bingo! Meet me over here, will you? I'll be needing your storage scrolls."

Ino told Sakura where she was, giving startlingly accurate directions. They stored the paper trail and recorded what they couldn't afford to remove from the premises. From their radios was a crackle and an explosion, followed by Kiba's rough laughter. It sounded a bit nervous. "Ya girls finished or what? Because these guys just called reinforcements and me and Akamaru are going to have to abort soon."

"Abort now. We have what we need. Neji?"

"We'll meet at the rendezvous point." Their jōnin leader said, short and sweet. Akamaru barked. Sakura assumed it was a good bark. The kunoichi cleared the mansion, awaiting the rest of their team at the rendezvous point.

Ino returned from setting up the traps (extremely poisonous, to both of their satisfaction) and scoffed at the sight of Sakura covering their tracks. "I don't know how Denatsu lets you get away with that. Isn't she all about subtlety?"

"What?"

"A bright red halter neck shirt does not a ninja make."

"Oh, yeah. I wanted a qipao dress," Sakura admitted. "But shishou said it was too restrictive of my movements, but the only way I'd take the shirt is if it were red. We compromised."

Ino shook her head, smirking. She was wearing the darkest purple she could; otherwise her outfit was not much different from usual. "Unbelievable, Forehead. Un-believable."

"You're literally wearing perfume to a stealth mission. You cannot judge me."

"I'm not! That's just my body wash!"

"Why would you use scented body wash before a mission?"

"You're wearing bright red – "

There was a loud rustling noise from the bush, followed by the much more controlled footsteps of their team leader. Akamaru licked Ino and Sakura hello, while Kiba just chose to say, with very human words, "Yo. Can one of you girls heal me? Think I pulled a muscle."

"I can," Sakura was the faster healer. Ino dealt with Neji, whose fight was arguably harder than Kiba's, and definitely went on for longer. "Here, Neji. All we could find."

"Thank you. Is Kiba fit for travel?"

Sakura removed her hands and nodded, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Just a pulled hamstring."

Kiba snorted. "Thanks. Were you two talking about clothes this entire time? I heard some of the conversation."

The best friends shared a look. "What? We like clothes."

Neji sighed but didn't scold them. They had, after all, fulfilled their duties. "You didn't encounter any problems?" He asked as they began jumping through trees like a troupe of colourful monkeys.

"Sakura stole a samurai sword?"

Akamaru barked disappointedly. Kiba shook his head. "Don't you know it's bad luck to take a samurai's sword?"

Sakura was unrepentant. "It was just sitting there. I couldn't leave it!" But her team didn't quite understand where she was coming from, even though she wasn't intending on using it. They had strange moral codes for a bunch of lying, thieving, murderous tools. Honestly.

After they reported to Tsunade and Sakura stopped by her teacher's still-very-bare home, Denatsu ran her fingers across the blade and smiled; sober-Denatsu's smile was more of a widening of her eyes and the straightening of her lips, which were set in a near-constant scowl. A smile was a smile.

"When I was twenty-four, I stole the armour from a fallen samurai and wore it for eighteen months without issue."

Sakura blinked. Her first thought was, 'So she was older than twenty-five when she went to jail!' And then she registered the oddly warm look on her teacher's face, and flushed with pleasure. "Guess I take after you more than we realised!"

"It seems so," Said Denatsu, and there wasn't a hint of vinegar in her tone.

Sakura felt like preening. Her teacher might hate everyone in the village, but she didn't hate Sakura. It was crazy how proud of that she was.

o.o.o

"I half expect you to come home wearing black lipstick."

"Mom."

Mebuki made a wobbly motion with her spatula, presumably to mean 'what else am I supposed to think?' "Side bangs, Sakura. Since when have you liked side bangs?"

"I think it looks nice," Kizashi offered. "It suits you."

Sakura grinned. "Thank you, Dad."

"I'll support anything you do, Sakura. Except black lipstick. Or eyeliner. Please don't start wearing eyeliner." Kizashi said it while laughing so Sakura assumed he meant it in good humour.

Mebuki tutted. "It's bad enough you aren't even wearing a qipao – "

"It's not that big a deal," Sakura's dad assured her. Sakura shrugged. She knew that.

"But black is where I draw the line!"

"I'm a shinobi, Mom. I'll have to wear black at some point."

Mebuki was not satisfied. Kizashi cheekily suggested, "All you have to do is wear the darkest shade of midnight blue and your mother will be happy,"

"No dark colours. Gosh, Sakura. I'd like to recognise you when you come home."

"Don't be so dramatic, dear. They're just side bangs."

Sakura placed her chopsticks down and smiled crookedly. "Would you be happier if I wore a headband or something?"

"No!"

But Kizashi was nodding. "Probably,"

Sakura snickered and her father winked. Mebuki (and the sunny side up eggs she was cooking) sizzled. "What would make me happy," she huffed, "is if I actually met your teacher!"

"Impossible," Sakura said quickly. "Shishou is a misanthrope. You'd hate her."

"And I should let a misanthrope mentor my daughter?"

"Oh, dear. Sakura's becoming a wonderful kunoichi. Isn't that enough?"

"Certainly not! Bring her over for dinner, Sakura," Mebuki angrily served breakfast. Burnt eggs. Delicious. "It's about time I got to know the woman my daughter is spending so much time with."

"But – "

"Thursday, Sakura. Seven o'clock on the dot."

Sakura moaned and ducked her head. Her father patted her hand sympathetically.

Sakura was so dead.

o.o.o

"How is it, having my princess of a sister as your teacher?"

Denatsu wasn't happy; typical, since her seals were just renewed. Sakura bit into her umezuke and thought of the most inoffensive way to reply. On the topic of Tsunade, Denatsu was famously volatile.

She settled on, "It's better than having Shizune teach me. All I remember from those lessons is that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell."

Denatsu looked like she'd bitten into a sour peach. "That child is exactly like her damned uncle."

Huh. "You knew Shizune's uncle?"

"He was to be my brother-in-law, so yes. Honestly, Sakura: and you call yourself a ninja. You've known the girl for years and you didn't know why Tsuna let her tag along?"

"I didn't want to step on any toes?"

Unimpressed, Denatsu flicked a stone. It connected with Sakura's bare forehead. She really should start wearing her hitai-ate there or something. "You're still so soft."

"You're the one who tells me that if I can't trust my teammates, I shouldn't be on the field! I maintain good relationships with my peers, which includes not asking about their past,"

Denatsu wouldn't roll her eyes; she considered herself far too sophisticated for such a plebeian action. But she totally wanted to, Sakura could tell. "Haruno, you are pathetic."

At this point, it was practically a term of endearment. Sakura quickly finished her snack and licked her fingers clear of syrups, wiping them on her shorts after. She climbed to her feet, limbering up. "Are you ready to continue, shishou?" She sure was.

Denatsu lifted her arm. It flopped back to the ground tiredly. "A little longer," She said, as evenly as her obvious frustration would let her.

Whatever progress she made burning through the seals throughout the day, slowly letting her chakra back into her body and feeling that power again, meant nothing when the seals were renewed. Suddenly, the chakra was repressed, and Denatsu was useless for half an hour as her body acclimated. One step forward, four steps back.

"Can I ask about the treason thing yet?"

Denatsu closed her eyes. "Run laps, Haruno."

Sakura screwed her lips to the side. "It was only a question!"

"Twenty of them. Your stamina would make arthritic grandmothers weep."

Denatsu was fifty-two and had trouble with her knees; technically, she could be considered an arthritic grandmother. Sakura, who was proud to note that she wasn't an idiot, kept this thought to herself. "My mom wants you over for dinner, by the way. Thursday. Seven o'clock on the dot. Please try not to make her hate you?"

Denatsu didn't open her eyes. "I don't care what your mother thinks of me. I'll show up if I'm not busy. Laps, Haruno."

"You can't call me that when you visit, shishou. Everyone is a Haruno."

"Thirty."

"I'll ask my mom if she can make something plum-y for you; I know you like plums!"

"I will make it thirty-five if you don't shut up."

Sakura shut up. Denatsu made it forty anyway, just to make herself feel better.

o.o.o

When Denatsu showed up at seven wearing a black jumpsuit and dark purple lipstick, Sakura's self control almost snapped, and for a moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to knock out her teacher's front teeth. She was aghast. And horrified. And so angry it was paralysing.

"If your mother doesn't like me at my worst, she won't like me at all." Said the older woman. She did not seem affected by the embarrassed tears in Sakura's eyes. "By the way: stop ordering me around, Haruno."

Speechless, Sakura stared.

"Sakura, is that her?"

"Wait, Mom – "

Mebuki appeared in the doorway. She was taller than Denatsu by a good few centimetres, and thicker too. But Denatsu's jumpsuit was sleeveless, showcasing her lean arms and the nasty scar that went down her right shoulder. It was pretty obvious which one was more dangerous. Mebuki hardly faltered. "Denatsu-san?"

"Haruno Mebuki."

Mebuki battled with the urge to be polite and the urge to drill the woman at her door. Clearly, she was not sure how to handle Denatsu, who was not maternal or accommodating in the slightest. Eventually, she said, "... Black?" It was the least articulate Sakura had witnessed her mother.

"Yes."

Sakura covered her face. Shishou knew how her mother felt about appearances, how she felt about Sakura's appearance. The forsaking of the Haruno qipao was bad enough; that Sakura would abandon the colour red, Kizashi's colour? It was a matter of clan pride. Mebuki was wary enough of the influence Denatsu so clearly had over her daughter. To show up in an unwelcoming outfit with an unwelcoming attitude? It kind of hurt.

Mebuki cleared her throat. "You're not going to make my daughter wear that, are you?"

Denatsu replied placidly, "I tried. Haruno is too attached to red."

That made the mother preen. "Well, of course she is. That's Haruno red we're talking about!"

Denatsu didn't offer an apology. "I don't much care about clan politics."

'Damn it. Shishou, why?' She didn't have to be so callous! Why was she being so difficult?!

"You're a descendent of the Shodaime," said Mebuki, frowning, "you can afford to. For others – for the Haruno – we are not so privileged."

Denatsu blinked. Startled. She tilted her head, the same light in her eyes as the first time she met Sakura, like she was regarding you from a different angle; it was a look that said, alright, so you can be interesting.

Denatsu extended her hand, eyes narrowed, and Sakura watched, feeling like her world was rapidly rearranging itself, as her mother shook it concisely. Mebuki's grip was firm. The light in Denatsu's eyes grew brighter. "We shouldn't talk about things like this at the front door. Come in, the salmon kobayaki is almost ready. We can have a cup of tea while it cooks."

"Of course."

Denatsu entered the house a welcomed guest. Sakura lingered in the open doorway, catching flies in her mouth. "Dear, close the door, would you? You're letting in a draft!"

Oh, was that what was happening?

"S-Sorry Mom!"

Sakura was so very, very lost.