RIP, minimalism.

Tsunade got Sakura's letter the following morning, read it, and bowed her head. She'd told Gaara she trusted them; she'd guessed this was coming . . . But actually seeing it all laid out still stung.

Sakura knew returning to Leaf would only lead to her having to fight anyone and everyone who thought she should put her self aside to rebuild a bloodline—not only the council members, but anyone else who would agree with them. She knew attempting to dodge what others had decreed her duty would cause repercussions to follow her for years if not until the end of her life, and that standing against those who'd interpret her refusal as insubordination would mean constantly looking over her shoulder in her own village. Sakura foresaw herself questioning if every order and mission was a punishment or a way to push her out of active duty—or a convenient way to get rid of her. She had no reason to trust in the mercy or understanding of people who had not once asked if she was actually willing to go along with their plans.

It wasn't that the younger kunoichi didn't think herself able to fight that fight, and she wrote as much. It wasn't that she didn't know she could beg for shelter from Tsunade, from Naruto, should things get openly bad. It was that she shouldn't have to—and Tsunade and Naruto shouldn't have to, either. Which was why she'd found a new place for herself: a safer place, one that considered her medical skills and knowledge and intelligence to be far more valuable than her ability to carry children to term. A place where even the idea of pushing her into marriage under the veil of duty was anathema. Sand had opened itself to her, proven itself another home, proposed a future vastly more secure and expansive than the one Sasuke had detailed—and when their offer came, she'd found herself willing to accept.

Sakura talked about the deliberation it'd taken, the weight that'd come off her shoulders upon deciding to reject both of Leaf's options. She talked about how this wasn't a goodbye, but only a shift; that with all of them—Tsunade, Gaara, Naruto, and herself—dedicated to upholding the alliance, the only real changes would be her location and who she took orders from. And finally she talked about how Tsunade had trusted her to make her own choices, how that trust worked both ways, and how she needed her mentor to bear with all of them for just a little more.

Tsunade found a spot near the gate Naruto'd use when he arrived and sat down to wait, to mourn a little for what she and Leaf had lost, to consider how much of a mistake it'd been to allow sex and politics to become so entwined. With her eyes closed and the sun on her face, she didn't realize Naruto was there until the bench creaked as he sat beside her.

"How is she?" she asked, testing.

"Good. She's been staying busy—sleeping weird, I guess, but other than this she seems happy. Gaara's . . ." He trailed off, then chose an innocuous statement. "He's being good to her."

Tsunade nodded, relieved her trust hadn't been misplaced—and by the confirmation that Naruto was actually himself instead of someone else's high-level illusion. "I've been walking our elders up to the idea of how many mistakes they've made. The rest is you." She glanced at the scroll gripped in his hand. "All of you."

Naruto nodded. She sensed an uneasy combination of tension and dissociation in him and knew he'd come back to Leaf holding on to his feelings, planning to unleash them all at once. "I need to know what I've missed before I go in," he said.

"Sakura turned down Sasuke, but he won't accept that she means it or respond to her. Things haven't been going well on that end. Gaara . . . continues to be Gaara." Naruto smiled a little at that, and she continued: "And Sakura left Leaf for Sand. I just got her letter this morning. I'm the only one who's seen it."

"It's official now?"

So he'd known it was coming. "Yeah."

"Is that all she told you?"

Shit—the trio had at least one more card to play. "Yes."

"Okay." He leaned his elbows on his knees, breathing steadily, face to the sunlight, dusty and worn and still ready to fight, and she wondered if she'd be needed as a medic more than a Hokage in the near future. "They both said you tried to help her."

She nodded and explained how she'd tried to give her student time to make a choice, how every one of Leaf's elders had tried to get her to help harry Sakura along . . . and how the ongoing pressure seemed to only have made it easier for Sakura to opt completely out of the entire ordeal.

"I know. I believe you." When he turned back to her, all she could see was anger. "All of this stupid shit just chased Sakura-chan out of her home."

She'd definitely be needed as a medic.

The two of them didn't have to search long for Leaf's elders; they'd known Naruto was coming and had congregated to wait. Tsunade scanned the square, considering the odds. There were ten of the council on hand, Naruto'd been running for close to a week . . . If things went sideways, she might be able to stop him from hurting too many of them too badly.

Naruto tossed the scroll; Elder Mikuni caught it. "This is from Gaara, regarding Sakura. I'm here to speak for both of them."

Amidst concerned murmurs, one spoke up: "It's unprecedented for you to speak for another country's—" Then she met Tsunade's eyes and stopped. She'd been in the group Tsunade'd talked to the previous day; it looked like she'd finally caught on to just how closely this trio could work.

Naruto clasped his hands behind his back and said nothing, and because Tsunade was watching she saw the little tremors run down his spine. Two more elders crowded Mikuni, shoulder to shoulder, to read. Eventually one looked up, his mouth twisting like he'd smelled something bad. "What is this? Some kind of joke?"

Naruto uncoiled and roared his response: "What the hell is wrong with all of you?"

Things got a bit loud from there.

Tsunade collected Gaara's letter from a distracted elder and read it while she waited for a break in the chaos. Naruto's anger was bright, hot-burning; Gaara's was cold, scathing. He'd been disgusted by Leaf's authority figures seeing fit to treat its promising kunoichi like livestock; he found it repugnant that they'd tried to push this marriage without once asking Sakura's thoughts on the matter. He was insulted that Leaf's elders had pretended he hadn't known what was going on when they attempted to buy Sakura back from his care. He saw the Uchiha traitor as complicit in this entire faulty structure, and considered it equal parts greed and cowardice that people in Leaf had chosen to enable him by attempting to put pressure on Sakura through the Hokage. Maybe in Leaf it wasn't out of the ordinary to require its ninjas to breed on command; in Sand they called it abomination. Maybe in Leaf it was easy to think of a union with an unwilling or coerced participant as a matter of business; in Sand they called it rape.

He closed with an overt, dire promise: In dealing with this matter Gaara'd trusted Naruto's anger more than his own, and he'd trusted Naruto to speak in his stead—and as such, would consider any move made against the Leaf-nin to be the same as a move made against him.

A rebuke this forceful, stacked with threats, would only come if Gaara was willing to put Sand's alliance on the line. Sakura'd said their trust needed to work both ways, though . . . So maybe with this, Gaara was trusting both Tsunade and Naruto to let him walk up to that line and let Leaf know just how serious he was without resuming hostilities or outright starting a war.

Tsunade snapped to attention at the crack of a fist on skin. Gaara's chosen diplomatic envoy had already decked someone, and now hauled them off the ground by the collar to shout directly into their face. "You don't get to talk about her that way!"

"Naruto, please," entreated another. "Things have been done like this for years. How do you think we got bloodlined families to begin with?"

"How the hell does that make it okay? She's my friend!"

Another piped up: "So just because you're willing to throw the entire Uchiha line away—"

Naruto didn't take the bait, refusing to go on the defensive. "How's telling Sasuke to date like a normal person throwing anything away? Why's it gotta be this way?"

"She had a choice!"

Tsunade added her voice to the fray. "You wanted to give her one option. That's not a choice."

The commotion had started to draw whispering, muttering onlookers.

"Hokage-sama," Mikuni tried, "we're supposed to be working together, unified . . . Look at the damage they're doing! Now we all have to worry about restructuring relations with Sand as well as how we'll handle matters with Uchiha Sasuke, because you couldn't make your own student think of Leaf's future—"

"You sonofa—" she heard Naruto start, and neatly stepped out of his way. Mikuni didn't, caught the full force of the blond's right, and dropped bonelessly. Tsunade knelt and checked the unconscious man's pulse, checked for serious injury, turned him on his side, and rose to face the remaining opposition.

"At this point," she said, "I believe Sakura's past thinking of things in terms of Leaf's future."

Another spoke up. "If that Haruno girl's dragged all of you into this—"

"Then you'll what?" Naruto snarled. Upon getting no response, he raised his voice further and addressed them all. "You'll what?"

"They'll nothing," Tsunade reminded him, and held up Sakura's letter. "We have no right to make any requirements of another country's shinobi."

Further murmurs; a few startled expressions. "She's turned traitor, then?"

"Not a traitor. Sakura's still on good terms with us—most of us, at least. She's just no longer beholden to Leaf." Grinding the information in proved even more satisfying than expected. "As Hokage as well as her mentor, I have the right to make this distinction."

"You're just going to let Sand have your student, without repercussions? All of that knowledge, years of training—and you'll just let her go?"

"In this case? Absolutely."

And together, suddenly, it all made sense: Sakura would declare her abdication from Leaf now, for greatest impact, to hammer in how her home had failed her. Gaara would make an ugly and official public ordeal over Sakura's treatment if the end result lessened the chance Leaf would demand her back under some facet of the alliance, and would designate Naruto as his mouthpiece as a show of underpinned goodwill towards Leaf—as well as to protect the blond from any potential repercussions. Naruto would move in lockstep with them both, work his miracles on any dissenters, and have this event to lean back on whenever he finally stepped up to power, to drastically solidify his own partnership with Sand and demonstrate his ability to work with at least one other leader. And if Tsunade, speaking as the Hokage, refused to take action against any of them . . .

She'd be picking apart the layers of their plot for some time to come, and was glad to be on their side.

Meanwhile the elders had turned to her, Naruto forgotten. "If she's already abandoned Leaf, then what was the point of all this?"

"Because Sasuke's still here, and otherwise it'd only be a matter of time before one or all of you tried to push him onto someone else. Because I can't trust all of you to not be petty enough to try to take some kind of revenge on Sakura for how things have played out, and you all need to understand the degree of hell there'd be to pay should you attempt to make a move against any of these three. And if keeping my student safe means I have to let her stay in Sand, or let Naruto beat some empathy into you, or even try to do it myself . . ." She smiled. "I'll do so without hesitation."

A blonde girl, one of Sakura's friends, approached Naruto with an outstretched hand and a question—and with more delicacy than she'd known him capable of, Naruto told a story of a marriage in Sand that'd turned dark, of just how much damage had been done when people had let a sense of duty and an never-abating need for stronger ninjas override basic humanity. This had hurt his friend, he said, and the fallout had caused any number of other people to be hurt or killed—and he'd be damned if he let anything like it happen again.

Amidst it all, Leaf's elders assessed the situation, offered Tsunade a few quiet apologies, and retreated in singles and pairs. Naruto continued to offer assurances to Ino—yes, Sakura was safe; no, she wouldn't be pushed into marriage now; yes, he knew for a fact they could all still visit each other, and he planned to do so regularly.

In time they were alone, and Naruto turned to her with a tired grin. "I thought I'd get to hit more of them."

"You still might." It wasn't over, she told him, and wouldn't be over for a while; they'd almost certainty come at her again for letting Sakura go, and would almost certainly give Naruto some degree of trouble for running that closely with another country's military leader . . . But for now, a battle'd been won.

He asked if she'd ever considered forcibly disbanding the entire group and starting over from scratch; Tsunade laughed despite herself and told him she'd consider the suggestion.

"All three of us stayed up most of the night trying to work everything out. This was the best way." He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to bring himself back down. "It's better that it just was me here and not Gaara, too. He's taken all of this badly—really badly. He was trying to cover it but I haven't seen him this worked up in years. Between what Sand did to his mother, and now . . ."

Tsunade nodded. "And now, though?"

Naruto looked at her, blue eyes free of artifice but still considering.

"We're supposed to trust each other," she reminded him. "What am I missing?"

"He and Sakura've been seeing each other." He glanced away, then back, cautiously watching for her reaction. "I guess they're pretty serious."

Tsunade's teeth clicked together. "She got involved with the Kazekage," she said slowly, "and then she turned Sasuke and Leaf down?"

At what point had Gaara looked at his charge, seen a lovely girl with a soft spot for a hard case, and recognized the potential benefits of making her a permanent addition to Sand? And why did they all wait until after she'd publicly given her blessing to Sakura's abdication to let her know?

Naruto straightened and shook his head adamantly. "No! It wasn't like that. She chose him—and Sand too, basically at the same time. I was there. Hell, he tried to give her a way out of it—told her he didn't want her to regret leaving."

"How sure are you?"

"Honestly?" The younger ninja relaxed a little and grinned. "I think she put him on his ass. He was pretty much in love with her and had no idea how to deal with it."

"Gaara," she said, disbelievingly.

"I know, I know. It's still weird for me and I spent my night there watching them be all happy and gross with each other—and then my morning catching them making out in the hallway." He made a face and mock-shuddered, then tried again, entreatingly: "Trust me, okay? They're not hiding it from Sand, it's not like it's a secret—so if she didn't tell you yet then she's got a reason . . ." He trailed off, then grimaced. "And the reason's probably Sasuke. You know how he doesn't like to lose."

That might be an understatement.

Naruto sighed and looked down the street, already mentally focusing on the next fight. "I guess I've gotta go find Sasuke and talk to him now. If he hasn't heard yet then he will soon. I tried to keep his name out of it, but still . . ."

She asked if he wanted her along, and he shook his head. "Nah. It'll be better if it's just me. He's still my friend—I think I can get him to listen."

Tsunade wished him luck and watched him walk off for a moment before heading back to her office. She had a couple letters to write to Sand—one to let Gaara know how things had gone on their end, and another to start a talk with Sakura about what would and wouldn't be appropriate information to share. But when she opened her door she found someone already waiting, seated behind her desk as if he belonged there.

"Move or I'll move you," she snapped as she marched towards him, refusing to stand in front of her own desk like a supplicant, feeling every day of her true age in her knees, her spine.

Uchiha Sasuke glared at her over his clasped hands. "You lied to me."

Here it was, then. And soon it would be over.

"I didn't lie. I omitted some details. Move."

She reached for the back of the chair, intending to sling it away from the desk, and he disappeared from it. His response came from right behind her. "You said she was on a mission. You said she'd been delayed because there were people who needed her as a medic. You didn't say Gaara has her."

Had Orochimaru ever been this fast?

"It wasn't your business." She turned and slowly, deliberately leaned against the edge of her desk—refusing to let her dismay show, giving herself space to move, and hoping that maybe her positioning would serve to remind him of where he stood and who he faced.

"It becomes my business when he steals her out from under me."

So he'd overheard her conversation with Naruto, too. "Sakura wasn't 'stolen.' She left."

"After spending how long with him? She's soft-hearted. He could've told her anything."

"You had no claim to her."

"I was going to marry her."

Just how dangerous was he, even with the seals? Could she have taken him in her prime?

Was this the future for all of them? Dealing with generation after generation of increasingly strong, increasingly unstable ninjas? Trying to blunt their outbursts and cater to their whims in hopes that they didn't crack and take out a swath of innocents before they could be brought back under control?

Fuck that. She hadn't made it this far, leading and defending Leaf for this many years, to cower and play sweet because some overbearing bloodlined shinobi threw a temper tantrum over being told "no."

"I believe you wanted to," she said, and watched his eyes narrow. "Tell me, though: at what point did you check to make sure she'd consented to be with you?" He glared silently; she glared back. "You were so certain she'd go along with whatever you wanted without questioning, without complaint, that you didn't even try to send her a single message. It would've taken minutes, and you couldn't be bothered."

Finding one angle of attack cut off, Sasuke attempted another. "That murdering bastard in Sand is calling me a rapist. How can he even say that? Does Naruto think that of me now? Do you?"

She picked her words carefully, searching for soft points in his bitterness. "I think none of you would've made it easy for her to say no. At worst Sakura would've died birthing a child she didn't want, miserably, trying to give you all what you demanded—and at best she would've died slowly, year after year, wanting more from you than you're capable of giving."

The hard line of his mouth softened, and he looked away. "She could've said no."

"She did say no. Two days ago."

Sasuke's frown twisted as hurt morphed into rage. "Before or after Gaara started fucking her?"

"You'd have to ask her," Tsunade replied mildly, "and to do that you'd have to talk to her."

"You think I'm some kind of monster."

And like that, they were back to accusations. The order of steps might change, but the dance itself remained terribly familiar.

"I think you have a habit of not looking at the people around you like they're actual people," she told him. "I think you came back and reached for what you were used to because you thought she'd be a sure thing—except Sakura's not a thing to be picked up and discarded at whim, and she wanted something different for herself."

Bitterness coagulated to venom. "So she flings herself at some barely-human freak who managed to beat me once—"

"The Kazekage—who's been unshakable in his determination to keep her safe from every threat from Leaf. Every threat," she emphasized—because maybe if she reminded Sasuke that people had reason to think of him as an enemy, she could head him off from doing something terrible under the banner of self-justification.

"The Kazekage," he repeated, mockingly, "who took this opportunity to acquire a medic who's years ahead of anything Sand has to offer."

That point would be sore for a while—but in this case, she could look at it in a positive light. "If that stunt from earlier is any indication, our alliance with Sand won't budge as long as Naruto and Gaara both live—doubly so with Sakura to help act as intermediary. Also, Kankurou and Temari are here enough that it's probably only a matter of time before one of them sticks. With that considered? We can afford to give a little."

"So you think well of him, too. Like a title and a village of barely-adequate ninjas means he doesn't have more than his share of blood on his hands." He sneered. "You've only ever heard stories about what he was like before, but I was there—I fought him. He was completely out of his mind. Naruto and Sakura were there too; he almost killed all of us. And all of a sudden every single one of you wants to act like he's better than me?"

"All of a sudden? Gaara's been fighting off his own past for years now. I've watched most of it happen: He has proven himself, over and over—in deeds, not words. Maybe that's what Sakura saw. Though it really doesn't matter what she saw—just that she told you no, and stepped away from Leaf entirely rather than have to worry about being hurt or killed for making her choice."

"All to get away from me," he opined, quietly, and had the temerity to look wounded by the thought.

Could he still be defused? Tsunade watched a little of the tension leave his shoulders, his hands, and let herself hope. "To get away from a structure set up around you, that didn't care what she wanted. To get away from a place that'd let that structure exist."

She might've imagined a nod of agreement. "Would it really have been so bad?" he said, almost to himself.

Being bound to a man who registered rejection and not getting his way as mortal slights? Absolutely.

"I don't know," she said instead. "But I know this: Sakura and Gaara both see you as a threat to her. Naruto just called you his friend but still thinks you're someone who'd hurt Sakura out of blind, self-centered stupidity. Our council saw you as someone to be placated—like some kind of spoiled, violent child—but still wanted your bloodline badly enough that they were willing to overlook or do almost anything to get it. But," she insisted, "none of them define you. Don't worry about showing them what you're capable of. Show yourself. What you do from here—that's on you."

Silence, as he stood with his eyes closed, his jaw working.

Maybe she'd reached him.

"I'm willing to overlook this here, today, if you show me you're willing to try. You've gotten another chance with Leaf." She let go of her desk and took a step in his direction. "You can still build a life for yourself here, with us. You can find someone else to be with—someone whose feelings for you are more than your memory of a little girl's blind idealization. Find that person, make the choice to be happy with them, and let this place be home again."

"Maybe," he said, slowly, with an air of finality. "Maybe . . . in time."

When he looked up at her his eyes were blood-red, and she had just a second to think, Of course he did—

Then there was blackness; then nothing.