The only Japanese will be names and cuss words (unless I can't find them). And they still will have the asterisks (*) and translations in at the bottom. If they're not here, they're in a previous chapter. Unimportant names—like store names that are irrelevant to the story and there for visual's sake—will be in English.

Standard disclaimer applied.

People wanted to do the right thing. It was human nature, in even the earliest humans. What they think was the right thing, however, was based off events in their past, things that they've seen other people do before. And thus what some people perceive as right and correct was different from what others view as the same things. Peoples' gut feelings are often to do the right thing, and when they don't they feel guilty. But sometimes there are other factors that influence their decisions, whether they were right or wrong.

For example, say there was one girl, little and innocent and sweet as could be. And say there was a whole country of people, young to old, white to black to everything in between. Thousands of lives, innocent too. And say this country was under attack. Say the attackers wanted only one thing to stop their attack and ally with the country under seize. The country had seen what their attackers could do, had seen how great an ally their attacker could become. But the one thing that the attacker wants…was the girl, little and innocent and sweet as could be. To hand her over could mean certain doom for her. Giving her up would be hard, especially if the little girl was, say, the country's princess.

The right thing to do would be to give the little girl to their attacker. One life in exchange for the lives of thousands—seems far more than fair, no? But there is something stopping their queen and her subjects from doing so. Their pride, their worry for their princess, stopping them from doing the right thing. The life of a country or the life of your daughter? Tough question. And if you were the country's queen? Unanswerable.

But eventually, she came to a decision, because an impasse was not good enough for their rival. And, though it pained her heart, the queen gave her daughter for the lives of her citizens. She and her daughter were praised for it, praised for their strength in character and strength of heart. Immortalized. Made goddesses.

Such a decision was made by Tsunade. At first, she was unsure. No—she was completely against it, against giving up her protégé and her friend. She wanted to flat out say no, and a few choice words along with it. However, she was Hokage and therefore not allowed so say something to a proposition as good and as just as the one Sasuke had offered. First and foremost in her mind should be the good of Konoha, not the good of one individual person. Not even if that one individual person was part of the fallen Senshi clan.

For once in her life, Tsunade actually look the treaty into serious consideration. Normally, she'd have brushed it aside as easily and as quickly as she would brush aside the idea of staying sober for a week. It was an insane treaty, insane. But it was Sasuke she was talking about, not some simple insignificant country that could be brushed off as effortlessly as swatting a fly off her shoulder. It was Sasuke and because it was Sasuke, Tsunade knew that it was a promise he would keep. Underneath Kakashi's simple, undetailed "He wants Sakura" was the fear that if Sasuke didn't get what he wanted, he would go on with his "down with Konoha" plans. It wasn't written, but it was shown in the angry quiver of Kakashi's penned letter.

For once, Tsunade actually considered the options.

Option A: Keep Sakura and risk a war with the Sound that had all the other Senshi. Though it was unlikely the clan would fight one of their own, it was a possibility that Konoha would have to face. One hundred fifty Senshi with the power to control and manipulate your sense of sight and smell, to create whatever illusion they felt like was plenty more powerful than one young Senshi who didn't know what the jigoku she was doing.

Option B: Give Sakura to Sasuke; leave her to her own devices now that Konoha had given her all the necessary implements to survive the intense conditions under Sasuke "care." Create relationships with the Sound and all those under its care. Most of the Senshi had gone to the Sound as it was, to escape all the requirements of having a bloodline trait—like being a ninja. And still half of those Senshi had been trained by their parents and their parents' parents. The Senshi were a close clan, no matter how many generations passed. By doing so, Konoha could become a great nation, better than it is already, below almost no one. All simply because their Hokage gave away their one secret weapon in exchange for a hundred plus forthright arms.

Tsunade might be a drunk, but heaven knew she wasn't stupid.

So it was with a heavy heart that she sent away the auburn hawk to its sender with a signed agreement.

There wasn't much to do in the Sound Palace. Tensions were flying high, constricting the airflow to a scared minimum of three breaths for every thirty seconds. No one dared to move quickly, as if any sudden movements could spell out their own deaths. Henchmen huddled close to each other, finding strength in numbers, though half of them disliked each other; maids and menservants twiddled their fingers and glanced up and down, unsure of whether they should keep with their monthly cleaning or wait for further orders. None of the important people were in the room—no Sasuke-domo, no Sakura-sama, no Karin-sama, no Suigetsu-sama or Jūgo-sama either to be scared of offending. No one and nothing to make anyone terrified for their lives—other than the obvious tension that flowed endlessly throughout the underground palace.

Everyone was simply terrified that if they made the wrong move, someone else would go reporting it to Sasuke-domo in order to get recognition. And with the foul mood that half the important people were in, there was no telling what the Master might do. The wrong move at the wrong moment could be the downfall of them all.

Hebia pressed her thick red lips together and leaned against the threshold of the lounge. She frowned at the clusters of servants. There was an utter fear tensing all their muscles, even the little concubines and their children. "Sasuke is in no bad mood," she said suddenly, feeling the need to relieve them some fear. "He just wrote a treaty between himself, the Sound, and Konoha. He's waiting for a response, so there's no need to hide behind the curtains. He isn't in a foul mood. He's…actually…very happy."

The Snake Sanin's younger twin almost looked shocked at her own words, though they were nothing but the truth. She had never said that Sasuke was happy, let alone meant it. It was a shock that it was her own daughter bringing him his joy, too—it was a shock that she could see her daughter, more so. She never thought she'd be able to again, no matter what she'd told herself when she went off with Orochimaru. She'd never be able to forgive herself for her moment of weakness. She had been a ninja when she married, a ninja. And she'd been terrified beyond belief of her silversmith husband. Terrified of a lowly, unworthy silversmith who was at least six years her younger. Hebia chewed on the inside of her cheek, ashamed of her own actions. She'd done horrible things as a young girl, part including marrying so far out of her age-group.

Thank Kami she'd found Sho-kun.

When no one moved, Hebia clapped her hands. "Come on now, there's still work to be done, and we've all got to do it." The tones of a mother was coating her words, making people separate from their cliques and do as told. Hebia smiled at the sight, grabbing her own rubber gloves and Windex.

As she cleaned, Hebia remembered the first time she'd come to the palace.

She'd waited for Orochimaru to pick her up, tapping her foot furiously when he was late for their meeting at their rendezvous point. He'd come out of the shadows, as he often tended to do, with his right-hand man by his side. "S-s-s-s-s-s-sis-s-s-ster," Orochimaru had said. "Where is-s-s-s my Pinky?"

"I didn't have time to take her from her father," she remembered saying, cringing slightly. "I thought we might pick her up together."

Oreo had shaken his head, looking out from his golden eyes sadly. "S-s-s-s-she'll be better off in Konoha," he'd said. "S-s-s-s-she is- s-s-s-s-sn't too different."

Hebia remembered being outraged. There was no way in jigoku she was leaving her baby girl with her father. "No! Sakura's coming with us, even if I have to go back and find her myself!"

Orochimaru shook his head again. "Hebia, be reas-s-s-s-sonable. I won't be back here if you leave. It is-s-s-s dangerous-s-s-s for me to be here." Orochimaru might have been insane, Hebia thought, but he hadn't been stupid. Cocky, yes, but he knew his limits when it came down to it. Even being just on the outskirts of Konoha was dangerous and idiotic and Hebia was sad to have asked this of him. To do this a second time would be even more dangerous.

Hebia had swallowed. "I can't leave her alone, Oreo," she'd said, using Sakura's old nickname for him. "He's a monster." There hadn't been any need to say who she'd been referring to.

She could have sworn that she'd seen his resolve softening, and had grinned for it. But then Orochimaru shook his head again and frowned harder. Worry had seeped through his pale white face and suddenly he hadn't seemed like the horror every Konoha villager was petrified of; he'd seemed like Orochimaru, her older brother, her protector, her twin. The same Orochimaru that had told her a thousand times to not eat that kuso bug but she ended up swallowing it anyway and getting sick because of it. "He cannot be s-s-s-so horrible as-s-s-s to s-s-s-strike his-s-s-s own child," the protector-Orochimaru had said, looking as if he doubted his words himself.

Hebia had looked up at him with green copies of his eyes, pleading with him. "He is, Orochimaru-nī-kun."

"Then why didn't you take her with you?" he'd asked. His right-hand man, Kabuto, looked as if he wanted to speak, but was silenced with a glare from Orochimaru.

Hebia remembered twitching then, her hand jerking like she wanted to hit him. Violence had always been the Senshi women's downfall in the old legends. Her brother was a sanin and she was not, so it was obviously a fight she was destined to lose. But violence was a tactic she was willing to use, should she need it. She's growled, "She's at the Academy, learning to protect herself, is why."

Orochimaru tucked a piece of his long black hair behind his ear and into its tie. "S-S-S-Sakura may be my niece, but s-s-s-she is-s-s-s not my baby s-s-s-s-sis -s-s-s-ster," he'd said. Hebia had seen tears welling in his eyes, making their golden depths glitter and quiver. She'd seen how difficult that disicion was for him. He'd flicked his head then, making Kabuto rush forward, trying to land a punch somewhere to knock her out.

Orochimaru had been a smart man, when sane. He'd been a sensible man, to a degree, and he'd known his limits, no matter how brash he'd appeared. He had known that he himself would not have been able to bring himself to hit her, even to knock her out. So he'd sent his best to do it for him. And Hebia had held her own for a bit—most of everything Orochimaru had learned was passed down to her by the Great Snake himself—but eventually been hit too hard and had downed.

When she'd woken up, she was in a dirt-colored hallway, being carried on her brother's shoulder. She'd demanded to be let down, and when she wasn't, she hit him—hard. She remembered Kabuto had been ready to hit her again, but Orochimaru glared at him and shut the silver-haired boy down. She'd cussed at him and hit and squirmed and kicked until finally, she'd been let go. And when she was, she cussed and screamed and hit and kicked him some more, yelling all the way that she'd get Sakura here, until she was confronted by the suggestion that she had no imaimashi idea if she was east, west, south, or north. She'd been talked out of it, convinced that Konoha was a better place for her daughter.

Hebia's eyes watered at the memories as she got back to the window she'd been working on. She missed her nī-kun.

Shikamaru rolled up the scrolls he'd found in Sakura's desk and put them back on their proper shelves inside the desk's drawers. He glanced around the room, seeing that there were only two people other than him left in the room—no, babies didn't count. He saw Kiba and his—and Sakura's—little brother playing around like two idiots. Seeing as the boy was part of Kiba's family, he wasn't very surprised. But the kid was also a part of Sakura's family, and right now, he wasn't showing it. Kakashi was moping on a corner of Sakura's bed, glaring at nothing, still kneading away at his thigh and cheek.

Shikamaru was the first to admit that he's never really like Sasuke, but the way Kakashi was acting was totally out of line. Sure, the pink-haired troublesome girl was like his daughter, but Sasuke was like his son. And Shikamaru was the first to say he wasn't good a reading people, but he saw that look on the Uchiha's face when he'd told them that he wanted Sakura. There was no revengeful scheme on his mind, no hidden motive. Plain and simple on the Uchiha's face were the telltale signs of a man gone under. Men gone under weren't free to their own wills anymore; they were subject to their heart's will and the will of the woman who possessed it.

There was no just reason for Kakashi's anger other than the feeling of wrongness that settled inside when one thought of leaving Sakura to enemy, no matter if they offered peace.

But there was no need to say that to the captain of his team; he'd find out eventually for himself. So Shikamaru stood from the surprisingly comfortable chair and walked to the door. "I'm going to find a suitable shōgi board," he announced. "Who wants to join me?"

Kiba's face twisted. "Ew, shōgi." He looked at his brother and said, "You won't ever go near that game, promise?"

"But Kiba-nī-kun, I like shōgi!" Burūsu complained.

Shikamaru gave his lazy smile and walked out the door. He might have just found his new favorite kid.

Sakura tapped her foot on the onyx-colored rug impatiently, her arms crossed. It had been a complete ten minutes since she'd asked her question, and not one of the boys would answer. "Tsunade won't let who stay?" she asked for the third time in those ten minutes. Naruto's eyes darted around the dark room, not daring to meet hers, and Sasuke's glared at Naruto. No one answered. "Naruto, tell me, or so help me, I'll knock you into the dirt out that window! The threat goes double for you, Sasuke!"

Naruto visibly swallowed. He was outraged with Sasuke, but he didn't want to put the teme in hot water, not so soon after they'd been reunited. But as soon as Sakura started cracking her knuckles, Naruto's big mouth opened. "Sasuke wants you in return for a treaty with Konoha!" he blurted out, and his hands immediately snapped up to protect his face.

But Sakura didn't strike anyone. Her foot stopped tapping and she turned her glare on Sasuke. "Are you kidding me, Sasuke?" she asked. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she glared at him with shimmering jewel-green eyes. Despite the obvious anger, her eyes were still their stunning green, their green of childhood. "What, you can't just ask me to stay, you can't just give a treaty?"

Sasuke looked up to her with his ebony orbs, giving her his dulled Are you stupid? look. "You can never give without getting, Sakura," he said, as if it should be evident. "You'd be taken advantage of."

"Sasuke, that's your homeland," Sakura countered. Her arms were still crossed and her eyes were still glowering.

The Uchiha glared back, standing from his chair. "It is the land that killed my family," he deadpanned. There was stone over his face again, controlling his expression. But nothing was hidden from Sakura; she could read his eyes as if they were words written on paper. She could see the pain there. "I refuse to forgive, or forget, that. I am not going back, nor are they getting anything from me without giving something up themselves."

Naruto winced when Sakura waved her arms around. "That's what I am to you now?" she shouted, her face coloring red with anger. "A something?"

Sasuke winced too. "You know chikushō well that's not it," he growled softly.

Sakura glared at him. Her mouth was set in a straight line and her pink brows were knotted together in the center. Her eyes flared with jade fire. "I don't know that," she snarled back. "You didn't even ask me first! But that doesn't matter anyway; it isn't like Tsunade would let me, even if I wanted to." She paced the room, circling around Sasuke, regaining that lioness quality. Sasuke could practically see a lion's tail swishing behind her. "And right now, with you treating me like the property you promised never to treat me like, I'm not so sure I want to."

Sasuke glared. "Stop lying, Sakura. It doesn't suit you," he grumbled back, watching as her rosy hair—that could use a nice cut, now that he looked at it—swayed behind her like the lioness tail she hadn't been born with. "You know just as well as I do that you would stay here, with me, if you had the choice."

"What the seikō makes you think that?" she shouted. She was standing next to Naruto now. Fury made her look taller than the blonde, though she most obviously wasn't. The way she held herself when she was angry…it brought her confidence and the illusion of height. The blonde she stood next to had smartly kept his mouth shut, watching as his two former teammates fought.

Sasuke's scowl deepened and his cheeks reddened slightly, like the blush he gave when Sakura had first kissed his cheek in DenkiMachi, but he still took a step closer to Sakura and pulled her to him by her wrist, until she was squashed against his chest. "Because," he whispered to the shell of her ear, "you aren't pulling away." He'd planned to kiss her, but with Naruto watching so intently, he couldn't bring himself to. Public affection would never be his forte, he feared. "I should have talked it over with you," he said. "I'm sorry."

Sakura pulled away slightly and smiled at him. To Naruto, it looked as if Sasuke had only pulled Sakura in for a hug; he hadn't heard the soft apology that had gone on between the two. All he saw was that Sakura looked forgiving now—and then that she stood on her toes to peck his lips, to which Sasuke didn't move away in the least. "That's all you had to say," Sakura murmured on his lips.

Naruto's scared silence turned into horrified sputtering. "How— Wha— Why— When— Huh?"

Sasuke's miniscule blush darkened by half a shade. "It's a long story," Sakura giggled. "I tell it to you when you're older," she said, as if she were Naruto's mother—as if Naruto were younger than her. And she laughed; it was a happy laugh that Naruto hadn't heard in such a long time, and it made him smile for her. "But I think I might be staying in the Sound a bit longer, if Tsunade-senpai will allow it." The rosette took hold of Sasuke's hand, making him press his lips together and his cheeks redden a bit more—almost to a degree where you could actually see the blush. "Come on. Let's find Taka and the guys."

And they left, Sakura with hands in both her own, not just Naruto's and not just Sasuke's, but both, just like it used to be.

Robāto's eyes narrowed as the blonde Hokage walked down through the tiny corridor that was between the cells. Why would the Slug Princess come visit him, of all people—unless it was to gloat over his impending doom? While gloating seemed the woman's style, he couldn't quite figure out why she would do it at this early a time. From the shadows in his room, Robāto could tell it was hardly seven in the morning.

But despite the time, the large-breasted woman strode towards his cell and his keeper with silent paces. Life seemed to have beaten her down since the last time he'd seen her. Her strides were no longer sure; they were hesitant and scared. However, her back was still straight and her nose was still high, so the power of her status flowed through her, no matter how her walk looked like.

The Hokage nodded to the policeman that kept watch over night and turned immediately to the redheaded prisoner. "She isn't coming back," the blonde said to him. Her hazel eyes were clouded with pain.

For a second, Robāto thought the Hokage was talking about his wife. Though she'd been missing for over four years and their marriage could be considered both null and void, the redhead still thought of Hebia as his wife. But then the Haruno remembered that his wife had been missing for over four years and had gotten this news over those four years ago. The woman—the girl—he hadn't seen for the past few weeks was his daughter. Still Robāto stared at his superior, uncomprehending.

The Hokage stared back; Robāto could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes, but they were blinked away too fast for him to be sure. When he didn't say anything, the Slug Princess said again, "She isn't coming back. Sakura." Robāto didn't know if the Hokage was trying to remind herself or give information to him. "We aren't going to see her again, not in Konoha."

Robāto stared, his jaw agape. His azure eyes searched the Hokage's, looking for some sign of a lie, a trick. He may have been a horrible man—and still might be, for all he knew—but what he did in his past just cause to lose both his wife and his daughter? When he found no lie, he managed to form the word, "Why?"

He saw tears again. This time they were real and visible, though they'd been blinked away too. The Hokage pulled a vial of whiskey from the depths of her shirt and swallowed it down in one gulp. It didn't seem to help the utter agony in her hazel eyes. "Because I made a treaty with Uchiha Sasuke that required the trading of Haruno Sakura for the alliance of the Sound," she said dismally.

Cerulean eyes widened; the Haruno threw himself against the iron bars of his cell. "You did what?" he growled. He knew he shouldn't threaten—or even look like he was threatening—the Hokage, male or female, but he couldn't help himself. He'd heard of this "Uchiha Sasuke" and everything he'd heard was far from good. They called him a ruthless killer, the villagers, ready to take on any opponent no matter the cost; they say he killed his own brother. They said he had a friendship with the devil, and that he was ready to call upon the protection of that friendship should need be. Ninja regarded him differently, but a danger nonetheless. And now the poor daughter he'd abused and treated horridly. "You left my little girl with that…that…that monstrosity?"

The Hokage glared at him. "Little girl?" she scoffed. Her eyes degraded him for her. "You laid hand on her for most her life! I found bruises, everywhere! Everywhere! If it was covered by clothes, it was bruised and browned. That note you left her for her twelfth birthday—Kakashi found it. He was irate to see it; he showed it to me. You told your own daughter that you were sorry she was born! Don't you dare call my Sakura your little girl!" She took another swing of her alcohol. Her eyes glared relentlessly at the man inside the cell. "You have no idea what being a parent is like. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, giving up my little girl, my friend, and my protégé. Don't give me gomi about how the seikō I could do such a thing! At least I'm leaving her with someone she knows, someone she used to be friends with. At least I know where the jigoku she is and will be."

The blonde Hokage took a deep breath and another swing of her alcohol. "My little girl is leaving," she said, calmly now. She made a point to emphasize the word "my." "She won't be saying goodbye to anyone excepting the team already with her in her new home," the Hokage told the celled redhead. "I'm telling you this because Sakura is still underage, though she's a ninja and is technically emancipated, and you are the only parent we have contact of. I am required by the Elders to ask you if you wish to come with me to sign the treaty, so you can see her one last time." There was a fourth swing of her vial. She looked down on him over her nose, like a noble looking down on a servant.

Robāto pulled away from the bars. He fell to the concrete ground, looking up at the blonde, ready to kiss her shoes if need be. "I want to see her," he responded. He wanted to apologize, hold her for the first and last time. "When do we leave?"

The Hokage glared at him as if she hadn't expected him to say yes. Her hazel eyes had gone a bit foggy with the haze of alcohol. "The moment we get a letter back," she said. "You will be taken like a prisoner and treated no better than a prisoner. You will still be a prisoner. You will walk and be fed the same amount as you are here. If Sasuke have a prison or a dungeon, you will stay there. Upon Sakura's orders, you will be dealt with accordingly."

Robāto nodded. He watched as the Hokage walked away; he swore he saw her shoulders shudder. But he couldn't be sure, because his own shoulders were shuddering, his face covered in tears, his head in his hands.

This one's longer than the norm, and it's also up quicker. Enjoy.

R&R