Disclaimer: I do not own the series Naruto or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.
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Now You See It
Chapter 21: Mind
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"Hey, you okay?" Sakura tilted her head as she stretched out, winding down from her spar with Choujuurou. He was, by her disgruntled estimation, leading by three full wins. Her main concern for the moment, however, was the perturbed look on Hinata's face. Her friend had been personally supervising Sakura for the past few days because, while the rest of those revived had been fine, they needed to make sure the seal Sakura had used wouldn't have any strange after effects.
There had never been a chance to study a survivor, after all.
"It's probably nothing," Hinata hedged, glancing down at the letter in her hands. "Really, I suppose I'm just… worrying."
"It is a habit of yours," Sakura agreed, pushing sweaty bangs out of her eyes. They had adjusted to life without sunglasses once more, though she still felt a little naked with such a bare face. "What specifically is worrying you this time?"
"Sasuke-san," Hinata admitted, cringing at the way Sakura tensed, like a deer catching the flash of sunlight off a hunter's arrow.
"Oh." Sakura cleared her throat uncomfortably, and glanced at Choujuurou from beneath her lashes.
He smiled sympathetically at her and made a show of focusing on rewrapping his sword, to give them the illusion of privacy without abandoning Sakura in the face of a conversation she really, really did not want to have. She felt a burst of warmth in her chest at that; he was a sweetheart, really. If he wasn't so brutal in battle, she would never suspect he was really a shinobi.
Well. People probably thought that about Sakura more or less as well, so she really shouldn't be casting stones on that front.
"It's nothing… major," Hinata rushed to assure her. "Just a bad feeling, I suppose. Or maybe I just miss him. We've been separated for quite a long time now." She traced the creases of the paper in her hands. "His letters all say he's fine and making progress with his new ability, but… oh, I don't know. I feel like something is wrong."
"Maybe it's because you know something he doesn't want to know," Sakura grumbled, then flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry! Sorry. That was mean."
Hinata sighed and shook her head, but there was a small smile playing over her lips. "No, you might actually be right, Sakura-chan," she conceded softly. "Maybe… maybe it's just a bit of guilt, or apprehension." Because eventually Sakura would have to face Sasuke and give him a flat no. It was a miracle she hadn't crossed his path already.
"I'm sure he's fine," Sakura tried to reassure her friend, shoving that thought to the back of her mind yet again. "I mean, he went on all those training trips with your teacher, right? He's probably used to roughing it and messing around with his eyes."
"He is at that," Hinata murmured, and brought a hand up to stifle a soft laugh. "Thank you, Sakura-chan. I feel a little better about the matter, now."
"Happy to help." Sakura flashed a peace sign and grinned. "God knows I'd be pretty worried if one of my boys was out of arms reach for that long. They're pretty reckless when they don't have me to keep them in line."
Hinata pinned her with an unimpressed look. "I rather think that goes both ways, Sakura-chan."
Which. Well. Okay, yes, given recent events, Sakura couldn't exactly argue that point. So she just laughed and busied herself with retying her ponytail, enjoying the faint early-evening breeze on the back of her neck. Behind her, Choujuurou finished off his task and climbed to his feet, clearing his throat softly.
When she turned to look at him, he smiled. "We have first watch tonight. We should get dinner soon, or we might be late."
"Right you are." Sakura looped her arm through his and extended her other hand, wriggling her fingers pointedly. "Come on, Hinata-chan, before Kiba and Naruto end up gorging themselves in an eating contest or something."
Hinata observed them for a moment, no doubt analyzing the situation perfectly because apparently Sakura was just that obvious when infatuated, but obligingly stood up and took her hand. They made their way towards where dinner was being prepared, chatting in soft, idle tones.
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The Mizukage arrived one unnervingly peaceful week later, all but swanning into the rebuilt camp. Tsunade came as well, but Sakura was much, much more vexed by the former than the latter.
"Quit your pouting," Tsunade advised, sipping straight from a bottle. She had demanded to give Sakura a full battery of tests, scouring her body and system for any lingering trace of the seal. Alliance or not, there was no way she would be applying a replacement in the midst of a bunch of foreign shinobi, so Sakura was allowed to get dressed again.
"I am not pouting," Sakura huffed, shrugging into her flak jacket. "This is just—just my resting expression. That's all."
"I've seen you unconscious," her boss waved off the flimsy excuse, taking another pull from the bottle. "And there was no hint of sulky, puffy cheeks or a pout."
Sakura bit her bottom lip and tried to change her expression.
"Well, now you just look gloomy," Tsunade remarked, laughing a little.
"Shishou, please," Hinata scolded her mentor.
"Take Hinata-chan for example," Tsunade switched targets seamlessly, gesturing to her apprentice, who had frozen like a rabbit in front of a fox. "Her method of pining is much, much cuter. Just as obvious, mind you, but cuter." Hinata rubbed her forehead, turning red almost by reflex alone.
I'm so sorry, Sakura mouthed to her friend, grimacing in solidarity. Then the full impact of those words hit her. "I am not pining! F-For anyone, or anywhere!"
"Save it," Tsunade advised, before knocking back the remainder of the bottle. "Your boys already gave me and Kurenai an update on this."
Those loose-lipped bastards. If Tsunade knew, there was probably a bet involved. Those two would pay for this treachery, she swore to herself. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or any time soon. But they would pay.
"There," Tsunade nodded, breaking her from her mutinous musings. "That's a much better face. Kind of scary, but hey; it's a war. A scary expression is better than a sulky one."
"I was not—" Sakura began, drawing herself up, before she was interrupted.
"I am invoking my power as your military dictator," Tsunade announced, but the severity of her words was diminished somewhat by the fact that she was unsealing a second bottle. Hell, it probably wasn't even a 'second' bottle; likely a third or fourth, knowing the Hokage and her affinity for the slight of hand. "You were sulking. It's adorable, seeing you get all huffy and jealous over your little blue beau and his thirty-one year old military dictator."
"Shut. Up." Sakura gaped, utterly floored. "Thirty-one? No way!" Then again, Choujuurou definitely didn't look nineteen, so perhaps the wet climate of Water Country kept Mist-nin well moisturized and baby-faced as a whole. Ao looked pretty old, but maybe he was secretly as old as the Sannin. Or older.
"Way," Tsunade nodded gravely, lifting the bottle in a toast. "So don't worry so much. It's probably just admiration."
"Maybe," Sakura said, dubious. Twelve years was a big gap, but that wasn't always an issue as long as the people involved were of age. It would be like Kiba or Shino dating Kurenai, except that was a terrible, terrible example because her boys were idiots who would grow up to be chronic bachelors if she didn't help them out, and Kurenai belonged with Asuma. She and her teammates had gone with him and Team Ten to pick out an engagement ring about a month before they had been tapped for the conference.
So yeah, thinking about any brat going after her teacher just made her angry. Perhaps she would change her mind given enough time to think the matter over, but for now she would remain in a state of discontent.
"I think you've said enough for now, Shishou," Hinata cut in again bravely. Sakura felt a huge wave of affection crest over her, and took the out that had been handed to her.
"Yeah, we're all done, right?" Sakura hopped up from the cot they had used as an examination table, smoothing down her uniform pants and making sure her tanto was properly secured to her belt. "I should probably go—"
"Sit back down," Tsunade ordered. "I'm not done drinking and you're my camouflage."
"But everybody knows you're drinking!" Sakura protested, even as she sat back down. "You're—you're Tsunade-hime! That's what you do." Well, drinking and gambling, neither of which she should be doing in front of the troops.
"Don't you talk to your favorite Hokage of all time like that," Tsunade scolded her. "Why, I could write a very interesting letter to the Minister of the Left if you rub me wrong. Goodness knows he'd be happy for an update."
Sakura blanched.
"That's what I thought," Tsunade remarked smugly.
Hinata shot Sakura a look of pure commiseration and moved to sit beside her on the cot. "…you're sure you feel okay?" she asked again, for what had to be approaching the fiftieth time since Sakura returned to the land of the living.
"I've never felt better," Sakura assured her honestly, again. It was hard not to feel as though she was she was running at two hundred percent, considering she had a personal medic-nin investigating every odd ache or pain that popped up over the course of her days. It would probably end today, she understood, once Tsunade had made her final notes and sent Sakura off with a clean bill of health.
How long that health would last depended solely on when the enemy decided to stop laying low or they located their other base of operations.
Sakura decided to treasure her last few moments of getting spoiled, even if it meant being used as a front for Tsunade to get a buzz going.
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Chapter Word Count: 1,680
Total Word Count: 41,070
Targeted Word Count: 35,000
Obviously, there's some major re-planning in store for that crazy rogue Uchiha, thanks to Shino. And that takes time, so have a little more downtime, before the next spike of action.