Hokage By Necessity

-Chapter Six-

Bitterly Bought Is Our Treasure (Part II)

Kakashi read the missive in sober silence, his aura growing progressively more foreboding as his eye trailed over the three words it contained. The hawk that had carried it fluttered its wings uneasily, but was too well-trained to retreat into the relative safety of the trees above.

As if reading the words again might change their meaning, Kakashi reread it, but it was too short and too clear to misunderstand. Sakura confirmed Hokage.

His hand closed over the slip of paper, crumpling it. His eye focused blankly on the middle distance, contemplating what this would mean. Kakashi hadn't thought that she would accept. Not really. Despite his own distaste for the position, he had been willing to assume it while she did what she should have done in a crisis such as this-used her skills for the benefit of her teammates.

That was what he had taught them, what he'd thought that Naruto and Sakura, at least, had learned best from him. This-this was something worse than being trash. Trash was someone who put the mission before their team; there wasn't a word foul enough to describe someone who put political ambition before their comrades.

Kakashi searched his memory for any indication, any hint at all as to why Sakura would choose to become Hokage rather than doing her utmost to save her friends. The girl in his memory turned toward him with a wide smile, born of mingled fondness and irritation, but it was something of a shock to realize that image, formed from many encounters, was many years old. Searching more recent memories for a girl that would coldly turn her back on Naruto and Sasuke when they needed her most, he found what he was searching for.

At the time, the signs, small as they were, had gone overlooked. He rarely saw Sakura, after all, most often meeting her when she hunted Naruto for some tedium or the other. So he'd written it off as exhaustion, stress, any number of factors. But now-now he could only recall the deadness in her eyes, nothing rising to meet Naruto's warm enthusiasm, the artifice in her smiles, the premature lines beginning to bracket her eyes with signs of habitual displeasure. The earlier Sakura in his memory was as substantial as dandelion fluff and as tenacious as the weed, but the Sakura of the present-she didn't bring to mind anything. Just a sense of resounding hollowness.

Their conversations had always been brief of late, but now he realized that they had been nothing more than variations on a common theme, as if Sakura had some sort of checklist in her mind to assure his health and wellbeing before moving on to something more pressing, simply going through the motions of being a good teammate.

And now, a deception on a scale that would have made Shimura Danzo proud, allowing the public to believe that Naruto and Sasuke were dead, rather than in some medical stasis that his informant had been ill-equipped to describe, which was just as well, because Kakashi knowledge of medical jutsu was somewhat limited, not having been invited into many hospital rooms to shamelessly observe the goings-on with the Sharingan.

But, despite the facts as they stood and the obvious interpretation of them, he still couldn't imagine Sakura simply shutting down her well-honed medic's instinct, even for the mantle of Hokage. Being a shinobi, she might not always be compelled to heal, but she was compelled to know. Leaving reservoirs of an unknown virus in stasis, without further investigation?

That wouldn't happen, but if she was Hokage, by simple virtue of her absence from the lab that was one less mind contributing to the knowledge-base on the new virus. And it wasn't just any mind-Shizune might have been Tsunade-sama's first disciple, but she'd studied under a woman traumatized by the mere sight of blood and running as far and as fast as she could from war. It had been Sakura who had reaped the full benefit of Tsunade's hard-won battlefield knowledge. All the awful and terrible uses that the medical arts as a shinobi practiced them could be put to.

Why? he asked himself. Why let the public believe they're dead? To minimize the security risk? Or to minimize the outcry if no cure can be found?

With a quiet sigh that was almost a sound of distress, his head came to rest against the rough-barked tree at his back. Gazing up at the patches of sunlight shuffled and rearranged by the breeze catching at the leaves, he made a decision. Sakura might have stepped off the path, but despite the years that had passed since she'd been in his care as a gennin, a teacher never stopped being a teacher to his students. It was time he reminded Sakura of that.

-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-]-[-

Even though she'd lived more of her life in this office than her own apartment for years, it still seemed unfamiliar and utterly strange, like something transformed by a fever dream, as she stepped over the threshold of the office that was now hers.

Hers, by the support of the Hyuuga, the Senju, the Shimura, the Kurama, the Shikamaru-led Nara and their supporters, the Akamichi and the Yamanaka.

Her ascendance had been opposed by the Inuzuka, part of the Aburame, though Shino had supported her, and the greater part of the Sarutobi clan.

This was not to discount the opinions of the smaller clans, or clanless jounin, who had certainly weighed in, but the numbers and distinctive fashions of the larger clans had left more of an impression in her mind, the others among her supporters and detractors more difficult to pick from her memory. Especially as she had spent most of the election firmly focused on remaining upright and ensuring a proper supply of oxygen to her brain. But there were those who stood out in her memory-all of the jounin-sensei who had been responsible for her generation, without exception, had supported Kakashi.

She had expected that to sting, but surprising enough, she'd been warmed by the display of solidarity, even when her own supporters had left her cold. Maybe it was because she understood why they would support Hatake Kakashi, who was one of those remarkable existences that managed to be both legend and a real person who was halfway decent, idiosyncrasies aside. She resented her own supporters and their expectations, which had torn her away from the simple, predictable routine of her life. She'd hated it, yes, but once one had lived so long in chains, one grew accustomed to them. They were familiar, which made them good even when they weren't, and made her resent their shattering.

"Yours at last, eh, meijin?" Kotetsu said flatly as she paused just inside the door.

"Yes," Sakura agreed tonelessly. She wasn't alone, though it would have been better had she been. Kotetsu and Izumo, Sai and Shikamaru. At least she was being haunted by any of the Elders, who had adjourned to a meeting after the jounin had made their decision. She had a few hours yet before she was presented to the public at large as their Hokage, but even from the office she could hear the noise from the street as Konohagakure took advantage of the opportunity to celebrate after the period of panic. They lived in a hidden village-they would seize any opportunity for joy when it presented itself.

She was torn, hating them for how quickly they seemed to forget the Hokage they'd loved so ardently, loving them for their resiliency and fortitude, knowing that they hadn't forgotten Naruto, no more than she would.

Don't enter this room with mixed feelings, she told herself sternly. Until Naruto is well again, this village is yours. All the paperwork and petty squabbles, all the backroom politics and self-advancement, all the earnest hearts laboring for a common dream-ugly and beautiful alike, she would be the head of the dysfunctional family that composed the Konoha that she told herself everyday she loved. A 'mother' of sorts.

She only wished she could command some sort of motherly feeling to arise from the empty pit where her heart had once lived, but it remained raw and empty. Still, she well knew what it was to be a good Hokage. Even if she couldn't feel it now, she could be that person until Naruto-her thoughts trailed off at that. Until Naruto. That was the clause that punctuated all her thoughts. Until Naruto. Like waiting for the sun to rise or the new year, everything would come to an end then. No point in growing attached to this new position, because doing so would be the same as admitting defeat.

She made a mental reminder to find time after the ceremony to visit the OSS and see how things there progressed. Sakura'd noted several of her subordinates among the jounin. They were an...odd bunch. Too much time underground in sterile rooms, too little interaction with people who cared about things like social norms. Some of it was an occupational hazard-her leading parasitologist, like many in his field, had the bizarre habit of trading preserved specimens with other parasitologists like they were trading cards, never minding that the creatures they cooed over and admired had nested in something's intestines, but to each their own. But most of it could only be attributed to personal foible.

"Hag," Sai said, breaking her reverie, "it's rude to stand in doorways."

"It's my doorway, Sai," Sakura retorted tartly, even though she promptly stepped inside so that the others could enter.

She turned to find Sai considering that fact thoughtfully, likely comparing the statement with the passage from whatever etiquette book he'd initially picked up what, most days, passed for his manners.

Her gaze then turned to Shikamaru and she asked him the question that had been weighing most heavily on her mind, ignoring Kotetsu and Izumo's presence for the moment, because she was almost certain they already knew. And if they didn't, as her aides and as aides to the two Kage that had proceeded her, they had the clearance necessary to share in their little quandary. "What's this about Naruto and Sasuke being dead?" she asked sharply.

Shikamaru shrugged. "Limits the security risks if no one knows they survived."

Sakura's brow crept upward incredulously. "Plenty of people know. I didn't give any such order."

"No, but your only communication outside the hospital was through ANBU, wasn't it? You might have had your own agenda in the information being passed to the general public, but it was the Elders who were in the best position to...reassess...that position. It was their decision to not make any announcements concerning Naruto's health until it stabilized in order to prevent any undue panic. And, seeing as it didn't, they announced his death before your quarantine ended."

"But," Sakura sputtered, "it's not like the information was limited to a select group. Me, Shizune, all of you, all the shinobi who participated in the sealing..."

"Danzo isn't the only one capable of using seals for silence," Sai answered her, having wandered over to her windowsill and installed himself in it, eyeing the perspective that the tower offered of the village below.

"They used seals?"

"Not on us," Shikamaru clarified. "On Shizune's medics. We're apparently trusted enough to go without."

Sakura made a disgruntled noise, but couldn't rally any real argument against it. If that was the path they'd chosen, at least they'd done so effectively, though Sakura doubted that the information was as secure as the Elders doubtlessly hoped. If she'd known that they intended to publicly kill Naruto, something she very much doubted she could have been made to agree to, she'd have handled the situation very differently. As it was, she could only accept the course of action they'd taken and see to it that Naruto was revived to make the situation entirely awkward as soon as possible.

Still, she kneaded her temples, feeling a burgeoning headache. Sakura was tempted to slip out for a drink, but drinks had a tendency to multiply on her and it wouldn't do to be drunk and dripping blood from some hapless celebrant when she met her people for the first time as their Hokage.

But Tsunade's old hiding places were still stocked and she cast a wistful eye toward a pretty vase lending color to a shelf otherwise home to a complete set of Konohagakure's legal code. If she offered it to the room at large as a celebratory toast, it wouldn't really be drinking.

Izumo must have followed her line of sight, for he said, "Shizune was here this morning to tidy up. I hope you weren't saving that bottle for anything special."

Sakura added to her already copious mental list a reminder to either thank Shizune or strangle her next time they chanced upon each other.

Drinking deferred, she stalked behind her desk and took a seat, moodily cradling her face in her hands. "What a disaster," she muttered.

"It'll get easier," Izumo offered consolingly.

"Or it won't," Sai pointed out prosaically from behind her. "Can I paint your walls?"

Sakura blinked at the non-sequitur, turning to stare at the dark-haired nin. "Of the Hokage's office?"

"No. Your lair."

"Lair?"

"I don't believe that your apartment qualifies for any description of 'home' that I am familiar with, but you retreat there to sulk when thwarted, so 'lair.' I am getting tired of staring at industrial beige when I'm at your house."

"When are you ever there long enough for it to matter?"

"I read a study that conclusively linked the color of the walls in one's house with one's mood. Given how you're always foul-tempered anyway, I thought I would do you the favor of getting rid of one source of your visual distress. Unless you'd like me to take down you mirrors as well?"

Sakura snorted. "The mirrors can stay, but knock yourself out painting the walls. I'll let you know when I notice a difference." She sighed as she turned back to stare at the desk, then made a strangled noise that came out something like, "Geh!" and scrubbed her hands through her hair, destroying the tidy arrangement she'd had it in. "I need," she ground out, "to make a list. Establish a priority system."

"Delegate," Shikamaru said pointedly.

"That too," Sakura agreed.

"It's seems like more a pain in the ass than anything," Shikamaru said, referring, she assumed, to the office of Hokage. "But it's not like you're going in blind. And you've already got your supporters all laid out on the board where you need them to be. The only group that really opposed confirming you as a Hokage were the jounin-sensei-and their political clout is limited when speaking in practical terms. They might influence former students and their families against you and there's a lot of respect associated with their profession, but when it comes down to it, they're unlikely to neglect the education of their students just because they don't like you sitting in this chair. And if they do, they're not worthy of the title of 'sensei.'"

Sakura's grinned faintly, unsurprised by Shikamaru's strong feelings on the subject. She didn't doubt that when Ai-chan was old enough, Shikamaru would step down from his position as jounin-commander to assume the role of jounin-sensei for the daughter of the man who'd encouraged him to become the man he was today.

"So, putting aside my anxiety over being the most popular Kage in all the Hidden Villages," Sakura said wryly, "we don't have anything to worry about. Just an atypical pneumonia that no one has ever seen before, which needs a decent treatment regime and traced to its source, all done without creating an international incident, the usual hullaballoo involved with a change in Hokage-celebrations, assassination attempts, marriage proposals-gennin team assignments, the chunnin exams being hosted in Suna this year with an express invitation for Naruto to attend, doing something about the teams that lost members, and all the little day-to-day operations of the village. Am I forgetting anything?"

"Laundry," Sai pointed out unhelpfully. "You need to do your laundry."

"Thank you, Sai." Aside from laundry, she still needed to acquire a gennin to do her grocery shopping. And maybe sterilize her refrigerator while they were at it, because that mold was finding it a welcoming environment and was flourishing better than any houseplant she'd ever taken in.

That was how she wiled away the time before the ceremony, composing a shopping list rather than a speech. She'd expected the others to leave and pursue their own business, but they stayed. Izumo busied himself with paperwork, while Kotetsu and Shikamaru promptly claimed an empty patch of floor and a round of menko ensued. Sai shamelessly added to the paper already accrued on the floor of the office, sketches half-finished and discarded as quickly as something new caught his eye.

He couldn't resist the occasional comment. "Are you stocking your kitchen or a war shelter, ugly? Because I don't see anything on that list that's going to spoil within the next year."

"I can't cook," Sakura replied blandly, "and I stopped pretending that I could year ago. Which is probably why my apartment doesn't feature soot-blackened walls instead of just industrial beige."

"Any idiot can cook. Except dickless, of course, but he's a special case."

"The only thing you actually learned well from books is cooking, so it's not really something to brag about, Sai."

And time, as it always does, trudged onward, until she found herself staring out at another crowd, this one far larger than the one she'd faced in the morning. They crowded the square, spilling into streets and alleys, shinobi perched on roofstops and perched on powerlines like so many overgrown crows. The burden of their expectation weighed on her, until she was very tempted to crouch behind the rail of the balcony and tuck her head in her arms. She managed to proceed faultlessly through the oath and the ceremony that followed, but when she would have been cornered by Elders and well-wishers, she slinked away to the depths of the Office of Strategic Surprise.

Seals acknowledged her presence as she passed, set up in a series that lined a long hall completely faced with ceramic tile. They were only basic security seals at this stage, only the depths of the OSS featuring the kind of set-up necessary to work with hot viruses and unknowns like their atypical pneumonia. Closer to the surface, she first encountered an open commons and the individual offices of the members of the OSS. Someone had pushed a metal table into the center of the room, directly beneath one of the light fixtures, whose light was supposed to mimic natural sunlight. That someone was laying on said table, beneath one of the thin white sheets usually spread over corpses, hands clasped in front of front of him in mimicry of the dead.

"Chikara," she said in a tone of reproach.

"Sleeping, Saka-chi," was the only response.

"Chikara, at least tell me you're wearing something underneath that blanket."

"If I was wearing something else, I wouldn't be wearing the blanket. Now, sleeping," he scolded her without opening his eyes.

Pale eyes, set in pale, grey-tinged skin, and snowy-white hair whose length was entirely dependent on how long it had been since he'd bothered to cut it last. That was Chikara, who, fortunately for those who were subjected to his nudist habits, also happened to be long-limbed, lean, and with a field shinobi's musculature. And he was the field scientist of the lot of them, the one who spent his days in squalid swamps and sweltering forests collecting samples from uncooperative subjects. In light of the fact that his time in the field was spent swathed from crown to sole in protective gear, Sakura supposed it might be explainable why he disdained clothing in the office, but it didn't make it any less irritating.

Heisuke, alerted by the brief conversation, made an appearance at the door to his office. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, book still in hand. He was almost Chikara's visual foil, black hair tidy and neatly cut, wearing civilian business attire. "Congratulations, Hokage-sama," he said dryly as he closed the volume, which was the viral equivalent of a field-guide.

"I hope that book means you've managed to cultivate the virus."

"Not yet," Heisuke said. "And Karin's lab, unless they're aiming for some sort of academic coup, hasn't managed it either."

Say whatever unpleasant things you liked about Karin's personality and personal habits, she happened to be a top-notch researcher, bringing with her to Konohagakure all the fruits of Orochimaru's experiments without the village having to stood to the unsavory methods Orochimaru had used to collect his data. She was intelligent, talented, and her obsessive tendency, when turned on a scientific problem rather than a person, served her well. She also happened to run the research lab associated with Konoha's hospital system, which was a prestigious position for someone so young and convicted of treason.

Karin thought of herself in competition with Sakura, which was amusing at times and motive for attempted murder at others, but for the moment all that was put aside as they sought an end to this thing.

"The damn thing's picky," Raizo complained, glaring at her over a steaming mug of coffee as if the fault lay with her. The members of the OSS were all talented medics and comparatively young, Raizo eldest of them all in his late thirties. He was of the very strong opinion that Sakura had stolen a position that he rightfully should have inherited. As he effectively managed the office, Sakura supposed he had a point, but over the years his vitriol had become more habit than actual hate. "Doesn't like dog or rat or people. Grows just fine in people's lungs on the outside, but put it on a human cell line in the lab and it doesn't do a thing."

"Are Katsumasa and Shuji in?" Sakura asked,

"Katsumasa's went home to sleep, like anyone with a lick of sense," Raizo spoke at Chikara, who ignored his stern, commanding voice with impressive ease. "Shuji's taking a turn staring at the cell lines, waiting for a cytopathic effect to develop. He said something about preparing a new battery of samples to test, but I'd swear we've went through our entire library of anything that resembles this."

"We'll have to trust Karin to be thorough, then. She'll have a broader array of milder respiratory ailment to test the antibodies against. It could be an ugly mutation of the common cold or something more common. With luck, something will react, and we'll be able to narrow our search."

Reizo snorted. "Viruses. Why can't we just have some good old-fashioned toxins? A nice little homemade cocktail of destruction. Instead we get to deal with Mother Nature at her bitchiest."

Sakura laughed darkly. "Mother Nature being at fault is the best case scenario."

That sobered her coworkers, who knew as well as she did that the infectiousness and lethality of this particular virus had the potential to devastate a village. Not simply because of the obvious death toll, but because of the sector that had experienced the highest losses. The medics. They would be the first to die and without a trained medical staff to see to the needs of the rest of the ill, subsequent losses would only increase until the virus burned itself out. And that wasn't a future that any of them wanted to watch over.

A/N: I'm not really meaning for Kakashi to come off as a bad guy, per se, just someone who happens to misinterpret the limited information he has. Situations like this can produce some really bizarre emotional responses and even if they are ninja, not everyone can react hyper-logically to it. With Kakashi's history of loss and his extreme reaction to it (adopting the mannerisms of his dead teammate is not the act of a particularly healthy or stable mind) and with the gleeful sadist's heart common to all authors, I thought, 'Why not make Sakura's life just that much more difficult?'

And, you guessed it, more OCs. This is the last of them, though.