Thank you all so much for your patience! These chapters are beasts to write and edit, so I really appreciate everyone sticking around for the updates. CeCe, thank you SO MUCH for your help! As always, I adore all your reviews and love reading all your theories.
The crisp scent present only during the approach and duration of winter surrounded them, carrying the promise of another rainstorm with every gust of wind that ruffled their silks. There was a heavy silence in the air made even more persistent by the lack of chirping birds and general chatter one would come to expect from a royal court.
But the palace was not what it used to be.
"Then, you are not coming with us?" Sakura clenched the hand at her side into a fist. The other was clasped between Hinata's as they stood amongst the damp foliage of the gardens. It had been her idea to somewhat forcibly remove Sakura from her rooms after so long spent indoors to take a walk around the lake. But rather than lift her spirits, it had only succeeded in bringing Sakura's grief into what little light the day provided them with.
Her pallor was that of a sickly child's and her cheeks were sunken, though they no longer held the ruddy tinge of tears. She had not slept in many nights and when she did, her nightmares returned to visit her. The space beneath her eyes, the darkened, nearly purpled skin there, was evidence of that.
"I am afraid not," Hinata swallowed thickly, "Naruto-kun is not fit to travel such a distance in his state. I-If we could stay at the palace, w-we would, but. . ."
Sakura nodded, her already vacant gaze being cast to the empty grounds around them. The absence of Gaara's troops was apparent, given the scant amount of guards posted at the royal family's individual quarters.
"But we can not risk anyone staying here, unprotected," she finished. Hinata squeezed her hand, but Sakura would not move her eyes from the vast forest just beyond.
"It is only until Naruto-kun is well again," Hinata said surely, "And-And my family wants us home for the - for the - ,"
"For the wedding," Sakura said wearily, but the subject was enough to call her attention back. For that, she managed a smile - a pained, sad, angry, hurt, envious smile.
"Yes," Hinata nodded, trying to hide her glee from her friend. But why should she? Why should she feel such guilt about her own happiness? Why did she? "And then we will meet you in Konoha."
Hearing such a promise could provide no comfort to Sakura, at least not in that moment, for it was only another nail in an already sealed coffin. Her other ladies were gone presently, having been called back by their families as well, but, unlike Hinata, Sakura did not think that she would be seeing them again. At least, not until the war was over.
"I can not thank you enough, Hinata-chan, for all that you have done for me," Sakura said earnestly, but there was still a chilling calm to her features, a monotony born from grief.
"You do not need to thank me," Hinata shook her head.
"I feel that I must," Sakura swallowed harshly, "And concurrently offer my congratulations alongside my apologies that I will not be in attendance."
"It can not be helped," Hinata shook her head insistently, "You have far greater r-responsibilities to attend to."
"Of course, but perhaps you will be able to return in time to celebrate my own w - union," Sakura suggested, but it was an empty pledge. There was no certainty beyond that moment as she stared vacantly between the forest and her friend.
"Perhaps we will," Hinata smiled, "Until then, I will write to you. I shall send word as soon as we are settled."
"It will be a great relief to me," Sakura bowed her head and paused. When she lifted her eyes, she could see the profound worry etched across Hinata's face, "I wish you both a safe journey and Naruto-san a swift recovery."
"N-Naruto-kun," Hinata said slowly, "Did he tell you. . ."
"What?" Sakura prompted her.
"Nothing," Hinata shook her head. Sakura was despondent enough without Hinata divulging such a secret to her. Whether or not Sakura was aware of Sasuke being an Uchiha, it could bring the Haruno heir no benefit now, so Hinata kept her lips tightly sealed.
She was there again, dancing in the acrid smoke, a vision of promises made and faith broken.
"Rin?"
It felt as though a stone were lodged in his throat.
"Rin! No, no, no. . ."
Obito tightened his hands into fists and felt the sharp pain of the wound in his shoulder from the strain. He was healing, but slowly. Too slow for his liking.
He breathed in deeply and the image of her swelled to life, branching outward to reach for him.
"Rin?"
"Obito!"
She flung herself into his arms and they tumbled onto the grass below. Obito let out a groan as he took the brunt of the fall. There would be green stains on his yukata later, but it was worth it, he thought as he hugged her close.
"You are late," she chastised him, the tip of her nose nearly brushing against his, "As usual."
"I had a meeting with the council," he told her proudly. She sat up suddenly, kneeling on the grass in front of him with wide eyes and a burgeoning smile.
"What did they say?"
"Nothing of much merit, but I think," Obito shook his head, "Well, I do not know."
"I do," Rin said confidently, "I know they will put you on the council and then it is only a matter of time before you are named the next head of the clan."
"I hope so," his hand twitched beside him, but he twisted his fingers in the blades of grass to keep them steady, "If I do, I," he took a deep breath, "I would like you to be there."
She grinned brightly and clasped a hand on his shoulder, just inches from his rapidly beating heart.
"Of course I will," her eyes were shining with pride as she looked at him, "And then we will celebrate."
"What is it we are celebrating?"
The pair looked up suddenly and saw Kakashi approaching them steadily. He was devoid of the Emperor's armor, but swinging at his side was a scabbard emblazoned with the Haruno emblem. Rin sprang to her feet and ran to hug him.
"All that training has made you a master of secrecy. I did not even hear your footsteps!" She proclaimed as they parted. Rather than rise up, Obito waited for Kakashi to seat himself on the ground. They shoved each other playfully in greeting and Rin continued on, "We were just talking of Obito's inevitable assumption of the clan."
"Any day now I would suppose," Kakashi smirked and leaned back to look up at the sky. It was a clear summer's morning with not a single cloud to ward off the sun, but a rolling breeze to interrupt the constant heat.
"We shall see," Obito shrugged and looked away before he had to watch Rin flop down beside Kakashi.
"It will happen," she said boldly and closed her eyes as she basked in the sun. Kakashi made a sound in agreement and turned his gaze on her.
"Sir?"
The vision disappeared and she slipped through his outstretched fingers.
"Leave me," Obito seethed, barely sparing a glance towards the man that stood in the doorway. Sasori hesitated, teetering on unsteady feet as he tried to peer at his mentor through the thick smoke filling the sanctum, "Have you lost your hearing or do you seek to defy me yet again?"
"It was not my defiance!" as soon as the words left his lips, Sasori sucked in a sharp breath. He had not meant to speak such a protestation, but he could scarcely contain the fury, the disappointment, the regret within him.
"But he was your responsibility!" Obito pulled himself to his feet, resistant against the pain it brought him.
"I did not know - ,"
"How could you be so blind?!" Obito advanced on him, cutting through the smoke like an arrow fired straight towards its target. When they were face to face, hardly a breath between them, he spoke again, "First Kabuto and now," Obito shook his head violently, "You are lucky Orochimaru still obtained the Emperor's favor."
"We defeated his army!"
"And lost half of our own in the process!" Obito bellowed, spit flying from his lips as he slurred his words. He was still under the effects of the smoke, his mind torn between the past he struggled to hold onto and the present he could not escape, "Every single detail was planned to perfection. There was no opportunity for even one error. We were meant to destabilize the trade in the villages, destroy the emperor's army, and thus secure a union between the Hokage and Haruno's daughter."
"We have still secured it!"
"And if not for that then you would be dead!" Obito started to shrink back, setting his shoulders, glazed eyes darting to a corner of the room. Sasori had no knowledge of what his mentor was seeing, but if not for the door behind him remaining ajar, he might have succumbed to the power of the substance as well, "We would all be dead."
"I had no knowledge of this coup," Sasori objected, "This I swear to you. I would never betray you. Or Orochimaru-sama."
Obito stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he brought them back to his pupil. The smoke still billowed around them, fueled by the flames in the marble basin at the center of the room, but if he did not resume his meditation soon, he would lose her again.
"We need every soldier in our ranks now," he murmured, "Keep your head down. They may be listening."
Sasori was silent for a long moment, but then he turned his head, facing towards the hall to take in a deep breath of fresh air.
"He was not their leader," Sasori said, somewhat defeated, but offering all that he had to feel useful, "He could not have coordinated such an attack on our clan."
"Of course not," Obito spat, "But right now Orochimaru-sama does not know that. It benefits us both that it remains that way. If he learns the truth, that that traitor is still alive, we will have a much bigger problem on our hands."
Sasori nodded hesitantly.
"Yes, sir."
Obito shivered, a sliver of fear invading his darkened eyes and sobering him for the briefest moment.
"If Orochimaru-sama learns the truth. . . then we are all dead."
"I wish you a safe journey," Kakashi held his hand out to Naruto who grabbed his mentor's wrist and pulled him close.
"And you as well," they were careful as they patted each other gingerly on the back; it had only been a little over a month since their return. Though Naruto could manage some perfunctory movements with his injured arm, there was still much rehabilitation ahead of him and it was a subject of great debate as to whether it might ever be the same again. But he was nothing if not stubborn.
Kakashi, meanwhile, could manage to speak for a short time without enduring much discomfort, no longer having to keep the bandage around his head. They counted themselves among the lucky ones, surely, and could scarcely find a thing about their situations to complain about.
At least, not to each other.
But, privately, they bore a similar grief, a complimentary shame, and a multitude of regrets that seemed only to grow in number with each passing day.
They must have known, or at least sensed it to some degree, as they released each other to stand mere feet apart just outside the infirmary. Naruto, for all his naivety in certain things, could be startlingly perceptive about others. So, when they parted, he said quietly,
"That man at the camp - the one who attacked you - ,"
"What about him?" Kakashi asked gruffly. Naruto gaped for a moment, floundering for what it was he had intended to ask.
"It is just that. . ."
"Yes?"
There was little Naruto could say without posing a more accusatory statement upon his mentor. That was not his intention, not in the slightest, but the same inquiry had pressed upon his mind since the night of the attack.
"He seemed to be - to be targeting you. To want to kill you."
"I doubt there was an Akatsuki on that field that did not want to kill us," Kakashi responded wryly.
"But," Naruto swallowed harshly and forced his eyes to Kakashi's. There was a puzzling calm to the man's expression, something that suggested he had already dismissed Naruto's claims before they had even been spoken, "But - But you did not move. You were going to - to let him kill you. You were still - You were - ,"
"I am not a young man anymore," Kakashi said with a quirk of his lips, "Not like you - I am afraid that I am not the soldier I used to be."
Naruto nodded slowly, but there was little he could do to hide his disbelief.
"I am only concerned for your wellbeing," Naruto said unsteadily, "Perhaps the Akatsuki are aware of your status with the Emperor and recognized you on the battlefield."
"Perhaps that is it," Kakashi agreed, latching onto that singular suspicion so that he might lay any others to rest.
"Then I bid you be careful on your journey. And," Naruto swallowed thickly, averting his eyes briefly, "And keep them safe, will you?"
Kakashi tilted his head, but chose not to comment on the specificity of Naruto's request. Or the redundancy of it.
"On my life," he bowed his head, "And I expect you to return to me in one piece. When you are ready."
"Of course," Naruto nodded.
"And with a wife as well," Kakashi added with a smirk, coercing a loud laugh from the younger man.
"Of that you can be sure," Naruto said with a smile.
"I was beginning to wonder when I would see you again," Rin plopped down beside Obito as he leaned against the wide trunk of a tree one summer afternoon, "Where have you been?"
He shifted his neck to peer at her, but as she settled in, her arm brushed his side and her hip became situated squarely against his. His cheeks flushed and he looked away.
"How is your mother?" He asked, blatantly ignoring her question. There were things that he was ashamed to tell her, things that perhaps she would think differently of him for. But there were also things for which he had been sworn to secrecy. He had not yet told her of his meetings with Orochimaru. Or that the elders had chosen Itachi over him. Or about the impending coup that would usurp the Uzumakis, placing her village under Orochimaru's leadership.
"Her condition has worsened," Rin did not hide the sorrow in her voice, not from him, and it caused the guilt within him to roil, "Even Tsunade-san has been unable to cure her."
Obito had to stay himself from speaking then; Orochimaru had told him many things about that woman and none of them were good. Rin lifted her teary eyes, but still he would not meet her gaze, so she watched the passing of a bird overhead instead.
"Look," she nudged him, pointing her finger to the sky. Obito turned his head up and caught a glimpse of the large crane just before it disappeared. Yet, even when it was completely out of sight, they continued to look above them.
"To be so free," he said softly with a sense of marvel, though he quickly realized he had not quite intended to speak the words aloud. But Rin reached for his hand then, closing her fingers around his, and Obito's heart rammed against the cage of his chest.
"Perhaps one day," her thumb circled the heel of his palm as she said quietly, "I miss you," Obito parted his lips to respond, but was silenced when she continued, "Kakashi, too. I think he is lonely without you."
"He does not need me," Obito shook his head, "Not anymore."
"But I do."
He could feel the heat of her eyes from the reddening of his cheeks and forced himself to look anywhere but at her. Rin seemed to wait with bated breath for Obito to respond. So, when he did not, rather than let the silence stretch between them, her grip on his hand loosened.
"Kakashi will have to return to the Emperor soon, but," a small smile played at the edges of her lips, "He thinks he may be able to leave his service in a couple of years," she laughed softly, "His position is more title than any true purpose these days, despite his training - at least, that is what he says. If - Well, when he returns to Konoha, for good, he has promised to help with my family's farm."
Those words seeded within Obito's heart, sowing a fear that he had for so long kept at bay in the back of his mind. Her family had been one of many to suffer at the hands of the Emperor's trade expansions and Obito had every intention of helping her just as Kakashi did, but the executions in which they did it would most certainly not be the same.
Orochimaru had taught him that any loyalist to the Haruno empire was an enemy, but he could not believe that was true, not for everyone. He did believe, however, that Kakashi could be reasoned with, that his eyes could be opened to the truth of the world they lived in, and that he could be persuaded to join the battle to make it right. He believed that he could change the world, while still keeping the people within it safe.
Obito laced their fingers together.
"I will help you, as well."
"I think the council has far bigger plans for you than attending to my little farm," she giggled, "But perhaps when you are running the clan, you will be able to quell the unrest between our villages."
The fact of their reality burned on his tongue. He wanted to tell her. He needed to. But he could not betray his master. And until Orochimaru had seized control of Konoha, their situation was too precarious to take such a risk.
"Perhaps," Obito agreed quietly.
Sakura stared at her reflection in the vanity, memorizing every stray strand of hair, every track of a tear that had fallen down her cheeks, every fleck of red that marred the whites of her eyes. Her fingers glanced the handle of her brush, trembling so harshly that she had to pull her hand back into her lap. She clenched it into a fist and inhaled deeply.
"I love you."
Sakura winced and pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger.
"I love you."
Pain flared in her hand, but the voice in the back of her mind was growing louder.
His fingers laced with hers as he pressed them back into the pillow.
Sakura gave her head a small shake and exhaled harshly through pursed lips.
His mouth trailed along her jaw, up to her ear where he paused.
She grabbed the handle of her hairbrush and watched it shake in her tremulous hold.
"This is better," his voice was constrained by pleasure, muddled as he buried his face in the juncture of her neck, "Is it not?"
Her knees tightened at Sasuke's sides, digging into his ribs almost painfully to grant her some stability.
"Better - ah!" Her head was thrown back as he drove himself deep within her and she arched off the bed to meet him. She still could not see his gaze, even as he shifted his weight to his knees and began slow, shallow thrusts within her, attempting to stave off the inevitable, as they always had, for just a little while longer. She was breathless as she asked, "Mm, better than what?"
His thumbs stroked the heels of her hands, his lips parted against the pulse on her neck, and his deep voice rumbled against her skin as he said,
"Better than the dreams."
Sakura shot up from her seat and threw the brush against her bedroom wall where it shattered in two. The tremors spread throughout her body until she found she could barely stand on her own two feet. Her breath came in short gasps and her chest squeezed so tightly she thought she might collapse.
But her agony persisted.
It did not give up. Nor give in. It did not bend to her will as she so did to it.
Because it was stronger, she thought.
It was stronger than her, possessing a resilience far greater than she could ever hope to. She was not a warrior. She was not a soldier. She was not even a ruler. Not yet.
But what did any of that matter now?
With heavy footsteps, she carried herself across the disarrayed room. Surrounding her bed were large, leather bound trunks partially filled and completely ajar. Packing for the journey ahead had proved to be more difficult than even willing herself to sleep.
A soft knock drew her attention to the doors whereupon her mother strode in without invitation.
"Oh darling," she chastised Sakura as she took in the state of her affairs, "Why have you not just had your handmaidens pack your things? I am sure they could accomplish it with much more haste."
"I do not need their help. I will manage on my own," she said stiffly.
"Mm," Mebuki pursed her lips, "Yes, I can see that."
"I know why you are here, Mother," Sakura muttered, casting her eyes to the window. Mebuki did not respond, choosing instead to walk over to the broken hairbrush on the floor silently, "I do not wish to revisit the conversation."
"Yes, so you have said," Mebuki regarded the ornamented handle forlornly, "But surely you can not expect me to leave it as such."
"I have asked this of you."
"And I have refused your request."
"You are my mother!" Sakura whipped around.
"Precisely," Mebuki hissed. Their gazes met, the same fierce stubbornness shared in their eyes, but Mebuki was the first to soften. Her voice quieted as she begged, "Please, let me be your mother."
"You can not fix this," Sakura shook her head and lifted a trembling hand to her cheek, pressing the back of it against her flushed skin, "There is nothing more to be done, let me just forget the whole thing. Let me find some peace in this wretched life - ,"
"There is no peace here! Your entire life we have lived on the outskirts of this war. To allow you any further delusions about this world would be to disservice you," Mebuki said fiercely, "You are not a child anymore, Sakura! You must release these foolish desires now - before you marry and before you assume the throne."
"Well then it should please you to know that those desires died with him!" All the fury that Sakura spat out with her words vanished the moment she realized what she had said. She turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to bear facing her own mother in that moment, "If your fear is that I might ruin our only chance at prosperity then you can rest assured you will hear no more of this from me."
"Sakura, this is no longer about prosperity," Mebuki's voice was bitter as she watched her daughter, "This is about survival. And we are on our own. We can not afford to make any mistakes now."
Of course not. And what a mistake Sakura had made. What a grievous error, a horrendous misstep, an irreconcilable failure, to fall in love with a man she could never have had.
"As I said," still Sakura did not open her eyes, but her fists that had been clenched slowly began to flex, "You will hear no more of this from me."
"This is precisely the time that I should hear of it. Say it now so that you may hold your tongue on the matter forevermore," Mebuki bartered with her.
"You think me incapable of control, Mother?" Sakura fixed her with a cold glare, "That I am unable to keep even my own secrets? There are things about me that you of all people do not know. Things that would shock you to your core. I promise you, you would not be able to look upon me with those same eyes if you learned of them."
"There is no reason to be so crass," Mebuki stiffened, "I only want what is best for you."
"How could you possibly know what that is?" Sakura seethed, "How could any of you know?"
"Because, whether you had a choice in it or not, I am your mother. That will not change, no matter how much you might wish it to," she said listlessly. Sakura could feel the harsh burn of her own shame rising up to her cheeks from Mebuki's words.
"No, Mother, I did not - ,"
Mebuki silenced her with a swift hand.
"Spare me. We are both out of sorts from the state of things, but nothing will be solved by our pointless bickering. Please, darling," her voice softened, but there was an unsteady hitch in her words, "I beg of you, whether it is through my confidence or another's, lift this weight from your chest and be done with it. Do not cling to it as - as I would. You have the best of your father and the worst of me in you," Mebuki began to shake as a cascade of tears broke free, "Please, Sakura, do not punish yourself for feeling this way. Do not condemn yourself to a life of your own misery. Tell me now what ails you. Tell me so that I may shoulder this burden for you," Mebuki might well have been on her knees with how fervently she pled with her daughter then, "Tell me who this man is. I will carry his memory so that you do not have to. Let me keep this pain for you."
Sakura drew back from her mother until her legs hit the edge of her bed. She stumbled and dropped down, clinging to her sheets to steady herself.
"Kami could not take this pain from me," she mumbled monotonously, "No one could. Not even him. When I say you will hear no more of this from me, I mean it. I do not intend to speak on it any further. I know my duties and I am aware of my standing. I am prepared to do what I must for this family and this empire. For my people. Right now, all that I ask is that you allow me this time, just this moment. . . Please."
Mebuki could scarcely contain herself as she watched this unflinching statue before her. There was no vivacity left in Sakura. The usual brilliance that surrounded her, that followed her into every room, that enchanted every person around her, was absent. If it had been any normal heartbreak, Mebuki might have found herself more useful to her daughter then. But, instead, she had never felt more inept and unequipped for such a situation. To think - to know that there was something afflicting Sakura that she, as a mother, could not fix was an incompetence so disparaging that she could not stand it; she felt as though she had failed both of her children.
Mebuki opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
There was nothing more to be said.
In the light of the sun, as if the heavens themselves were shining their favor upon the couple, he saw Kakashi and Rin in a fierce embrace. She was radiant as she smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with mirth. Obito could not see Kakashi's expression, not from his position behind the thicket, but he was almost certain he could assume correctly. He had long feared that he was not the only one to harbor such feelings for her. He had long feared that Kakashi, a pillar of honor and strength, might also feel some affection towards her.
"I will see you when I return," Kakashi said steadfastly; a promise to her. She teetered on the tips of her toes as she pushed herself up to his height, then pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kakashi's shoulders stiffened and Rin bit her bottom lip as though she were trying to hold back a laugh at his reaction, but she could not contain it for long. She burst into a fit of giggles as he lowered his head to her shoulder, attempting to hide his face in the crook of her neck. Her fingers came up to tangle in his silver hair and she cradled him against her, even as she continued to delight in his discomfort.
Then, she stilled, tilting her ear towards his mouth as though he were whispering something, sharing another secret with her, and she broke into a smile. Fervently, Rin nodded and clutched him closer, so Kakashi wound his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She squealed in delight as he spun her about and Obito ducked out of sight quickly.
He slid to the grass with a quiet thump and dropped his head between his knees. He should not have waited. He should not have kept those secrets from her. He should not have let her fall into another's arms.
Damn Orochimaru for his secrecy. His master might not know Rin, but Obito understood that if there was anyone he could trust in the world, it was her.
And yet, the little voice in the back of his mind told him that even that would not have been enough. He still had yet to truly prove his loyalty to Orochimaru. It was one thing to betray his own clan, feeding information to an opposition they did not know was coming. And it was quite another to implement what they had been planning.
But, no matter what, Obito would protect them both - Rin and Kakashi. He had to. Even if he had never known a greater pain than to see them together, happy and in love. Above all else, they were still friends, still family, and he would do everything in his power to preserve that.
No matter the cost.
When Obito returned to Orochimaru that night, he did not remark on what he had witnessed, nor did he allow himself to dwell on it. It was better that he did not give himself the opportunity to be distracted. He had a purpose to fulfill first.
"As long as the Uchihas remain in support of the Uzumakis, they pose a threat to our future," Orochimaru said as they sat across from each other in the small hut Obito called home.
"They have all but destroyed their standing with the Emperor, surely they could not be so dangerous now," Obito protested.
"It is not so simple. Political differences are paltry. Fugaku may disagree with the Harunos, but he does not possess the courage to disobey them. This is why I need you. To ensure their mutual demise," Orochimaru's sinister smile was made even more prominent by the flicker of candlelight and, for a moment, Obito felt his resolve wavering.
"What is it that you require of me?"
He had already gone against his clan, providing Orochimaru with information that would surely have resulted in his death for such treason. He had already succeeded in the systematic disassembling of Konoha's faith in the Uzumakis. What more could he do?
"They need a push. A betrayal so harsh that it severs the threads of their trust forevermore," Orochimaru fixed Obito in his unsettling gaze, "If you succeed in this, I promise you an army at your disposal. I promise you power beyond your imagination. I promise you a world of your own design. One where you may do as you please, live as you wish - and that woman of yours, she will want for nothing."
At that, Obito's heart skipped, anticipation and hope mingling in his chest. He could build her a better life than even Kakashi could offer her.
No. It did not matter who she chose as long as she was happy. But perhaps if he could - perhaps he would have a chance -
"Whatever it is, I will do it," he swallowed thickly, "I want to help the people of Konoha."
"You are a good man, Obito," Orochimaru grinned, "Very much unlike those who came before you. Together, we will do great things."
Sakura fastened the clasp at the base of her neck and let the jewelry fall against her clavicle. It was heavier than she remembered, weighted now by the memories and consequences it carried. But the emeralds gleamed as brilliantly as ever, the gold still shining wherever the light touched it. Her fingers skimmed across the necklace, petting it delicately, as though it might break from the slightest pressure.
Yet, no matter how fragile it appeared, it felt as though it were a shield to her, a piece of armor, a barricade to protect her from whatever else might dare to infiltrate her path.
Sakura stepped back from the mirror and faced her room. Trunks of clothing, all filled to the brim and stacked atop each other, sat awaiting their retrieval. With a last melancholy look at them, she stepped out of her doors and walked straight through her sitting room, passing by her emptied bookcase. A guard awaited her and followed her out into the gardens.
The world around them was empty; void of the songbirds of spring, the chatter so prevalent during the summer, and the whispers of gossip in the fall. The palace was still and silent, suspended in time, but surrounded by nothing in this already desolate winter. Gutted of its inhabitants and soon to be abandoned for the foreseeable future, the palace seemed a forgotten relic already. A mark of another era.
Daunting as it was, there was comfort in knowing that as long as she teetered atop this precipice, as long as she was still looking down at the abyss that was her future - and not up from it - there was nothing for her to fear. Whatever the years ahead held for her, it was not a problem now. She could worry about it tomorrow. She could worry herself all the way through their journey to Konoha. But in that moment, she needed it. This freedom. This last moment of certainty. This fleeting illusion of control - over herself, her life, her purpose.
She could not say a proper goodbye, not in the presence of her guard, so she stood at the edge of her garden under the watchful eye of the man behind her. She skirted the lake, casting a glance to her fish that still swam within its depths. At this time of year, they would have begun to move them within the palace walls, but to care for such creatures was a luxury that could no longer be afforded to her. She turned her head away before she could think on what might happen to them once they abandoned the palace.
Her gaze fell instead on the stone bench and then the willow tree beside it. She could not help but be reminded of that cold winter night when she and Sasuke had shared their first kiss, when he had pressed her so fervently against the rough bark of the tree - she could still recall how it had felt as it dug into her back - when he had admitted his desire for her for the first time.
It seemed an eternity to her - a fleeting moment of bliss, followed by lifetimes of grief.
Sakura averted her eyes, she could not bear to look any longer. Across the grounds, she spotted Lee standing near the front gates. Even from such a distance, she could see that he faced her, but he did not wave, he did not acknowledge her, and he did not move from his position. He knew she did not care to see him, to speak with him, but he would have liked to engage in some form of a farewell to her as he would not be traveling to Konoha. Like most of the courtiers, he would return to his family and perhaps not see Sakura again for some time. He wished it was not so, but there was little he could do in such a dire situation. They stared at each other for a long moment, a wordless understanding passed between them. And then he watched Sakura walk on, making her way back to her rooms, until she was out of his sight.
"Rin, you should not be here," Kakashi rounded on her quickly, ushering her back into the shadows and out of the moonlight.
"Why?" Her lip trembled with fury, "What is the matter with you? We had a promise!"
"I know, I know," he cupped her cheeks softly, attempting to soothe her, but she brushed him off without batting an eye, "I can not say what is happening, but I - it is not safe here anymore."
"You promised me that you would not leave again. The Emperor discharged you from service!" Rin was decisively livid. Kakashi had been unusually secretive as of late and the frequency with which she saw Obito had decreased significantly; two signs that could mean nothing good.
"I know, but we could all be in grave danger," his eyes were wide, pleading as he spoke urgently, "I can not say for certain what it is yet - what will come, but it could - ,"
"What?" Rin wanted to shake him, or punch him - whichever might garner a result from him first. Something had stolen his attention, though, and his fervent gaze turned cold as he looked past her. She spun around to see Obito standing just feet from them, dressed up in a plain black cloak. Through the fabric, she could make out the distinct shape of a blade at his side. She ran to him swiftly and held her hands out as though he might hand her the answers she sought, "Obito, do you know of this? Do you know what is happening?"
"A fight is coming," he said urgently, "You must leave with me. Both of you."
"No," Kakashi said fiercely, "Tell me you are not part of this."
"Part of what?" Rin's eyes darted between the two of them.
"I am a part of the new world," Obito said, approaching Kakashi steadily, "And you can be, too, but you must trust me."
"I once did," Kakashi shook his head solemnly, "Give me a reason to again."
"Is it not enough, the years of friendship we have shared?" Obito narrowed his eyes.
"Tell me this: Why is the Emperor's son dead? Why were the Uzumakis removed from Konoha?" Kakashi barked.
"I know no more than you of Seiichi's death," Obito admitted, his own confusion shown clearly on his features, "But I can tell you that Minato was weak. His loyalty to the Emperor was his downfall. The Hokage will lead us now into a better, brighter future."
"This is the talk of madmen," Kakashi stiffened, arrested by Obito's words, "Surely you could not be so blind. There is more here that you do not understand."
"No, it is your false ideals that blind you," Obito sneered, "You are but a sheep amongst the Emperor's dying flock. Come with me and I can promise you so much more."
"I will not join you," Kakashi's fingers twitched for the hilt of his sword, but he stalled himself, "I have sworn an oath to the Harunos and I intend to keep it."
"You are making a mistake," Obito spoke through gritted teeth, then turned his gaze on Rin, his hand shooting out for her, "Come with me. There is a place for you in the new world."
He wanted to stipulate that it would be at his side, but the words became stuck in his throat. It did not matter if she loved him, if she chose him, or if she even believed him. All that mattered was that he loved her. And he needed to protect her. Even if it was from their own friend.
"Kakashi," Rin's eyes passed between the two of them, unable to settle on either, but she knew who she was imploring, "If Obito is right, we must join with him. These people are not fighters, they are farmers. Tradesman. Children. The Hokage may be able to protect us."
Obito held his tongue. He wished so desperately to tell her the truth of all they had planned, but even he was not fully aware of Orochimaru's ambitions, so he would have to wait. In time.
"The Hokage is a lie," Kakashi spat, glaring at Obito, "His name is Orochimaru - ,"
"Stop!" Obito bellowed.
"His purpose was to destroy Konoha's leadership and their army," his voice raised above Obito's dissents, "Konoha is defenseless without the Uchiha's military force."
"That is the fault of Fugaku's impudent spawn," Obito shot out an accusing finger, pointing through the trees towards his former village, "Perhaps the elders should have put their faith in another, more worthy successor."
"What is Orochimaru planning?" Kakashi shook his head in disbelief, no longer able to recognize the man who stood before him. The friend he had grown up beside. The friend who had stuck with him through thick and thin, "What has he done to you?"
"He has done nothing more than give me a purpose in this world," Obito straightened himself against Kakashi's fury, "His plan is solely to bring peace to the people who have only ever known suffering. The Emperor allowed the Uzumakis to poison this land for too long. Now that the Hokage is in power, he will bring upon us all a new legacy, and with it, a new world."
"No," Kakashi unsheathed his sword before he could stop himself, "He killed the Emperor's son! He killed his sole male heir to destroy the Haruno empire! Didn't he?!"
Rin cupped her hands over her mouth.
"It is not true," she said slowly, voice muffled by her shaking fingers. Obito's hand closed around the hilt of his sword, but he did not remove it from its scabbard.
"No. It is not true," he said placidly, "That blame rests solely on Itachi's shoulders."
"And yet Orochimaru has benefited from it just the same," Kakashi stepped closer to Rin, casting a brief glance her way, "Get out of here. Now."
"No, I will not leave you," she shook her head adamantly, "Either of you."
"If you want blood," Obito closed a good measure of the distance between them, but Kakashi placed himself in front of Rin and that caused Obito to stop short. The corners of his mouth turned down slowly, "If you want blood, I will give it to you. But I came here only to offer peace."
"You are naive if you think this will not end in blood."
Behind Kakashi, Rin twisted her fingers in the back of his cloak; an attempt to keep him steady.
"The Hokage has assumed power. The Uchiha are out of the way. Fugaku and his brood, the elders, they will all live out their final years in disgrace. The time for peace is now, my friend."
"You think he will just leave them alive? The Uchiha are his greatest enemy to conquest!"
"They were the Hokage's greatest enemy, but Itachi sealed his family's fate the day he decided to betray the Emperor," Obito shared a look with Rin as she peered over Kakashi's shoulder, "So, again, I will offer you peace," his eyes narrowed as they settled on Kakashi once more, "Or I will offer you blood."
"You have offered me nothing! You have only forced me into the only choice I can make," Kakashi's voice fell as he turned solemn, "If I do not stop you, Orochimaru will destroy this land."
"No!" Rin's hands closed around the arm holding his sword, "You do not have to do this!"
Obito's heart constricted in his chest; one way or the other, Rin would suffer. She would either lose the man she loved, or lose her oldest friend.
"Rin, stand aside," Obito said firmly, "If he wants a fight, I will grant it to him."
"I have never wanted to fight you!" Kakashi freed himself from Rin's hold and stormed towards Obito, "I only want you to see reason!"
"All I see is pain! Suffering! People starving under that despot - that false idol we call Emperor," Obito did not back away as Kakashi came to stand just feet from him, "All I see is a broken world and a chance to fix it."
"Orochimaru is not the man you think he is," Kakashi warned.
"Perhaps it is you who I have been mistaken about," Obito narrowed his eyes as he pulled his sword free.
"NO!" Rin shouted.
Kakashi raised his own blade and Rin rushed forward. As he struck it down, Rin threw herself in front of Obito and Kakashi's sword cut across her chest, the steel slicing a deep line from her shoulder to her waist. She screamed, her face contorting until she was almost unrecognizable to him, and fell back against Obito. He released the blade that had still been poised to deflect Kakashi's blow and caught her in his arms.
"Rin?" His voice was subdued in shock, eyes locking with hers as they began to glaze over, "Rin!" Her chest was heaving, red blooming across her kimono, spreading like a wildfire, "No, no, no. . ."
Kakashi's hands were shaking as he clutched his sword, the shining metal stained by her blood, but his gaze was fixed on her. In Rin's last moments, as her body went rigid and then, finally, still, she did not look at him.
Her eyes, still wide, but hollowed by death, were looking only at Obito.
The course of their journey had brought them through many settlements on the way to Konoha. Their safest travels were undoubtedly along the main roads, the trade routes, that ensured they would not encounter any thieves. Or worse. Sakura had made such long journeys before, but only ever between her family's palaces. For the time that she could, she attempted to pretend that this was one such occasion.
Each day, when the sun began to set, they would stop at a new village to rest for the evening. The hospitality of their hosts was unceasing, though the food and amenities were modest. Still, she was accustomed to resting in lodgings less befitting of a woman of her upbringing from her previous travels. So, Sakura might have cared more if not for the inevitability of what awaited her come the end of their journey.
She was tired of her mourning, of her sorrow and anger and - well, she was tired, but that did not mean that she was prepared for what lay ahead. At some point, she would have to face it, but until then, she could continue to remind herself, Not yet. Until then, she could continue to pretend that this journey would take her anywhere but to her final destination.
Although, she was not certain of what was worse; the anticipation of their arrival or having to share a carriage with her mother day in and day out. They had scarcely spoken a word between them and she could not even distract herself from the thickening tension with her father's company as he and his advisors occupied a separate carriage. Every now and then, Sakura would catch her mother's eye, but she would always look away promptly, finding something else to occupy her attention.
Their journey might be long, but every second in her mother's presence felt like eons.
A brutal sob rang out in the clearing as Obito doubled over, clinging to Rin's limp body.
"No," he murmured, tilting her head up, pointing her vacant eyes to the sky. The blood on his hands left streaks that marred her stilled face and the last expression upon it.
"I - I did not - Why would she," Kakashi stammered, eyes welling with tears as he tried and failed to make sense of the scene before him. It was not supposed to be this way. The Emperor had discharged him from service, honorably with decorations. There was no war to be fought. He was supposed to retire in the country, to take his general's pension and build a life for himself - for them.
"Rin," Obito cradled her gingerly, his thumb stroking her cheek, the sweep of her nose, the relaxed curve of her brow, as he wept hysterically. Kakashi could only watch in horror, in sorrow, in complete disbelief at the scene in front of him. This was not meant to happen. How could he have let it come to this? It was his fault. It was all his fault, "Rin. No, no. . ."
And Orochimaru's. It was Orochimaru who had corrupted Obito. It was Orochimaru who had forced his hand. It was Orochimaru that was responsible for the desolation around them.
"O-Obito."
"Do not speak," a fatal timbre shook the words as they left his lips and he turned his gaze Kakashi, who stood mere steps from him, "Maybe I am a madman," Obito laid Rin atop the grass gently and came to his feet. He stared Kakashi down, fury and unrestrained sorrow churning in his dark eyes. There was no hesitation in him now, only raw pain and an unflinching determination, "But you are a monster."
"Obito," Kakashi lowered his sword and let it fall to the forest floor, "I would never - I love - ,"
"Do not dare to speak those words," Obito hissed and advanced on Kakashi, "You did not deserve her. You never could have!"
"I-I know," Kakashi broke down and staggered backwards. His gaze flickered between Obito and Rin's lifeless form, "I did not mean - Rin - Rin, I am so - so - ,"
"I was wrong," Obito croaked, tears falling down his cheeks and off his lips, "You could never be one of us. You do not have the strength. Your loyalty is to a broken empire!"
"My loyalty is to these people," Kakashi cried, tearing his eyes away from Rin, "To my home! And it was to you! To her!"
"Is this what your loyalty does?!"
"It was your betrayal! And Orochimaru's influence!"
"Do not lie to me when I have seen the truth with my own eyes!" Obito shoved Kakashi forcefully and he stumbled back. His voice was shredded as he bellowed, "She would not have been here if not for you!" Obito pushed Kakashi to the ground and loomed above him. He pointed his finger towards Rin, "Look at what your love has done to her!"
Kakashi was silenced, the only sounds from his mouth being the unbearable hiccuping breaths as he wept for Rin. It might have been Orochimaru's influence that had led them here, his deceit that had corrupted Obito. . .
But it was Kakashi's hand that had struck her down.
Obito grabbed the hilt of Kakashi's sword, the blade still freshly wetted, and sliced it through the air. Kakashi barely had time to raise his arm in defense.
The gates opened slowly, as if hinged by Sakura's own anticipatory fear, but with every inch that they moved, they stole another gasp from her lips. She had never seen such a sight before - she had never seen such vibrancy. Tradesman, smiths, and farmers lined the road with their shops and wares. Large structures stood tall behind them, housing many of the village's residents, and colorful cloths hung from their windows, billowing in the breeze.
As they moved along the road, passing beneath the arch of the gates, the townspeople bolted from their homes, pointing and shouting at the approach of the carriage. They waved fans at the caravan and threw flowers ahead of the horses. Splendidly bloomed and spectacularly hued, Sakura watched as the blossoms were then crushed by the clopping hooves and spinning wheels that ran over them.
But she soon became adverse to the villagers' avid stares and slunk back into the seat of the carriage, trying to keep herself out of sight.
"You should wave to them," Mebuki remarked stoically, "They will be your people from this day on."
"My people by marriage only," Sakura said bitterly, averting her eyes to her lap.
"They were once under our rule, darling. Before the Hokage assumed power," Mebuki said delicately.
"Which is why I do not understand this union. He betrayed father when he staged a coup against the Uzumakis," Sakura pinched the fabric of her skirt tightly, a slight tremor evident in her fingers.
"Minato could not keep peace in Konoha, that is no fault of your father's," Mebuki heaved a sigh, "I do not wish to recount this history with you yet again. You know this story. You know how it ends. We are living history as we speak, Sakura. It is no different than anything else we have had to endure in our lives."
Sakura bit her tongue; she did not wish to say something worse.
She thought she knew the stories, her kingdom's history. But that was before. Now, she feared she did not know anything anymore.
They sat in silence the rest of the way along the road, before the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a large tower erected at the center of the village. A guard rushed to open the door and offered Sakura his hand to descend the steps. She took it hesitantly, swallowed a breath, and emerged from the carriage. A crowd of villagers was fast approaching, the cacophony of their excitement growing as they came closer, so she was beckoned towards the tower by a flurry of handmaidens and servants. Sakura looked around for her mother, but Mebuki was being escorted elsewhere by Kakashi.
"Mother!" she called out, but then felt an urgent hand at her elbow ushering her through a set of large doors.
"Come, Haruno-sama, we have been instructed to bring you to your rooms immediately."
"But, my mother," Sakura began, her gaze whipping to the attendant at her side. She was a thin, short elderly woman who could barely reach Sakura's shoulder, but somehow had the brute strength to pull her sharply into a lavish entryway.
"Your mother will be along, but they must meet with the Hokage first."
Sakura fell quiet as she surveyed the area around her. Tapestries hung upon the walls and guards were stationed at corridors that stretched so far outward that the ends became too dim for her to see. In the middle of it all was a grand staircase that wound to an upper floor. The old woman steered Sakura towards it and spoke in a fevered, hasty tone,
"You will have the left wing of this floor, Haruno-sama," as they ascended the steps, she directed Sakura to a set of doors off to the right that opened into a sprawling bedroom with a balcony at the back. A trio of handmaidens stood in waiting and greeted her with a bow. Sakura froze at the threshold, a whirlwind of emotions raging through her so quickly that she could scarcely pick out a single one.
"Haruno-sama?" The old woman prompted her, "This will be your bedroom," she gestured to the trunks of clothing and books stacked beside a large alcove in one of the walls that Sakura assumed would house her many robes, "As you can see your belongings have been brought up. Would you like them unpacked now?"
"No, no," Sakura said quietly, smoothing the fabric around her waist just to have something to occupy her hands with, "Please forgive me, I think I am weary from the journey. Perhaps I could have some privacy?"
"Certainly. Is there anything you require?"
"No, I - A bath, maybe," Sakura nodded as her eyes swept over the large space around her, "Yes, I think that would be best."
"As you wish," the old woman gestured to the handmaidens who then exited to fetch a tub and heat the water, leaving Sakura to stand alone in the doorway of her new residence.
Obito dismounted his horse, boots crunching on the dirt and pebbles beneath him. In the thickened forest, shrouded by towering trees, not even the light of a single star penetrated the night around him, but he was accustomed to the darkness. And he knew this place well.
He released his hold on the reins and trekked a few paces forward. With his arm outstretched, he met the bark of a familiar wide trunk and lowered himself to his knees, palm sliding down the length of the tree slowly until he felt the deep notches carved into its base.
It was a simple marker, one that only he, and perhaps one other, would recognize. It did not bear her name - or her family's, but they had all died before her anyways. It did not bear the date of her death, for that was not something he could ever forget. Rather, he had taken a small chisel to inscribe upon it a promise, a lamentation, an intention, and his deepest regret.
Obito's fingers met the tips of the flowers that had withered in his absence; he had none to replace them with this time.
"I am sorry it has taken me so long to return to you," a tear fell from his eye as he whispered, "This may be the last time I am able to for a while," he pulled his hand back, "At least until this wretched war is over," Obito bowed forward as a chilling wind ran through him, "When I envisioned this, I - I did not think it would be," he broke off with a sigh and a shake of his head, "It is not what I had imagined."
The years of war, a cause he had dedicated nearly half his life to, had taken their toll. And, without her there to guide him, he found it much easier to lose his way. To lose sight of his ambitions. To succumb to his fears. To be consumed. . .
His fingers petted the notches in the tree affectionately once more. Every now and then, he found himself in these small moments of clarity, when that substance was not still clinging like a vice to his fragile mind and when Orochimaru was not whispering in his ear, that the full weight of his own guilt began to crush him.
"I love you," the quiver in his voice told nothing other than the unraveling of his own sanity. It spoke nothing of his unwavering devotion to her, only the result of a lifetime without her. A lifetime, because he had lived at least a hundred since they parted. A lifetime for every moment she occupied his thoughts. A lifetime to lose her over and over and over. . .
"Will there be anything else, Haruno-sama?"
Sakura turned her gaze away and sank lower into the tub, as if it were deep enough that she might be able to disappear completely. With a soft shake, the coil of hair pinned atop her head jostled by the movement, she said quietly,
"No, that will be all. Thank you."
The old woman exited soundlessly, leaving Sakura to her disquieted thoughts. She had been dreading this moment ever since Mebuki had told her the news, counting down each passing hour until her freedom was taken from her. Now, she even found herself longing for the day to day activities of her father's court, however monotonous and conciliatory they had been. She longed for the days when her greatest worry was whether she might have the misfortune of encountering Hibiki or Lee during her tours about the gardens. Or whether she might be subjected to another turn of prose from a hapless suitor.
But, it did not matter now, she reminded herself as she reached a hand up to the trinket around her neck. Her worth amounted to no more than one of the exotic jewels set into that very gold chain that lay upon her skin, her purpose no greater than the shimmer each emerald gave off in the light. She supposed she might have seemed just the same to the Hokage - an exotic jewel to be taken, a rare beauty from another land to be won.
Sakura closed her eyes, shutting out the sudden feeling of imprisonment. But no matter how hard she tried, she knew she could not banish it for long. This was to be her life.
For now, and forevermore.
Rising from the water, she grabbed the kimono her handmaidens had laid out for her and tied it loosely at her waist. She padded over to the doors of the balcony and propped it slightly ajar. The air that wafted in was heavy with the scent of rain, but she found that she could scarcely feel the chill on her damp skin. Gingerly, she peered through the opening she had made to survey the village below. She was not nearly as high above the ground as the mountaintops that greeted her just beyond, but she still found the view from her room to be breathtaking.
The moon was almost full, casting a soft glow over the little huts and raised structures that made up Konoha. Even in the late hour, she could hear the many noises that enlivened the bustling village; the jovial din that she had only ever attributed to the celebrations at the palace. It was a beautiful sound and one that she thought, at least for a moment, she could get used to. As she turned her gaze to the left, she saw a sprawling forest filled with towering trees, not unlike the ones that had bordered the palace. There were so many similarities, she thought, and yet. . .
Sakura turned away from the window and clutched the edges of her robe in her hands.
She did not want to fall in love with this place, this foreign land. She desired to hate it, and its people, with every fiber of her being; it was the only way she could continue to hold any control over herself, to cling to any sense as she spiraled into insanity.
Suddenly, there was a knock at her doors. She turned about quickly, considering for a moment feigning sleep so that she would not have to face anyone, before hastily grabbing her coat from earlier to cover herself.
"You may enter," she called out, expecting to see her mother or father inquiring about how she was settling in. Instead, the doors swung open to reveal a tall, pale man standing before her. A mane of silken black hair fell down his back and his sharp cheekbones and angular eyes made him look more like a sculpture of marble than a being of flesh and blood. He wore robes of pure white, complemented by rich layers of purple peeking out from his skirt and collar. Accompanied by his stony visage and a carefully controlled turn of his lips, he seemed intimidating.
"I heard tell of your beauty," his voice echoed through the room, causing a quake within her; she was not at all prepared to see him standing there. He took a step forward as he continued, "But I did not think I would ever have the pleasure of looking upon you with my own eyes."
Stricken, Sakura did not even think to bow to him. The uncertainty she felt within flared both from his startling physicality and his flagrant flattery. She clutched the handle of the door to her balcony tightly and tried to recover herself.
"And I of your generosity towards my family, Hokage-sama," she said placidly. She had never met the man before. Had never seen a painting of his likeness. Had never heard tell of his features. But she knew it was him. She could feel it deep in the pit of her stomach. With her courtier's smile, she said, "Let me be the first to extend you our gratitude."
"We have no need for such formalities," he waved his hand and stepped further inside the room, "Not now. Would you not agree?"
"Of course," Sakura nodded and the action brought a sly smile to his face, "So what shall I call you then? My," she swallowed thickly, "My h-husband to be."
"You may call me Hokage-sama," he said flippantly, "What is a name between husband and wife?"
"Indeed," she agreed, though she felt the abrasiveness of his response prickling her skin.
"How do you find your rooms?"
"I-I have not had the chance to explore the rest of this wing, but this is a marvelous bedroom," she forced a compliment past her lips, not wanting to insult him upon their first meeting, "I think I shall feel right at home here."
"That is my hope."
"Thank you," Sakura tilted her head as she regarded him; he seemed to be scrutinizing her just the same, "Forgive me, but should we not be meeting under more formal circumstances? At least this first time?"
"Would you prefer it?" When she did not answer, he lifted his brows in mock surprise, "Are you afraid of me?"
"No," Sakura swallowed against the lump in her throat and gripped the handle tighter as he advanced towards her.
"Good," he said with a grin that split his icy features, "So long as we understand each other, you will have nothing to fear."
"U-Understand?" Sakura asked, attempting to straighten her posture so that she might feign a modicum of confidence in his presence.
"Yes. This is a desirable match without question, but one borne out of necessity and nothing more. I would not want you to mistake this for familiarity or favor," he said casually, as though they were discussing a subject of great tedium.
"I - I am not certain I know what you mean," Sakura took a step back gingerly and felt the wall pressing against her.
"Do not presume flattery from such circumstance. You are a beauty to be sure, but that is of no import to me," the Hokage slithered about her room, paving a slow, but deliberate path in her direction, "I have no need for a wife."
"Surely you could find some use for one," Sakura attempted to jest, but he seemed either to not understand her humor or to not care for it.
"Oh, yes," the Hokage paused to watch her carefully, "I have use for you, but this is merely an arrangement. You are here to serve your duty, to me foremost, but beyond that I should think we will have little interaction. I suppose you would prefer that, would you not?"
"I - I," she stammered, reeling from his blunt and callous speech.
"If you give me what I want, I see no reason to give you any bother," he came to a stop just a couple feet from her. Sakura gritted her teeth, nearly ready to rip the handle right off the door.
"Sir, I am certain you have made some mistake about me. I - ,"
"There is no mistake, girl," the menace of his gaze pinned her like another tapestry to his wall, "You are here by the grace of my mercy upon your family. You are here to serve me. You are here because I have deemed it so."
"I am here because my father - ,"
The Hokage silenced her with a sudden wave of his hand.
"Do as you are told, obey me, and your family will remain safe here."
Sakura's breath was syphoned from her chest as he leaned in close enough for each word to hit her reddened cheeks,
"Now, do you understand me?"
The Hokage allowed her a long moment; a moment to collect her thoughts, a moment of consideration, a moment to defy him. Slowly, she bowed her head, keeping her eyes to the ground.
"Yes, Hokage-sama, I understand."
She did not lift her gaze to see his response; she could imagine the grin plastered on his face. Without a word, he turned on his heel and left her room briskly. As soon as the doors shut, Sakura released the handle that had become slick with her sweat. Adrenaline rushed through her, pounding like a drum in her ears and buzzing through her stomach like a trapped bird. Fury, an unfiltered anger the likes of which were incomparable to anything she had felt before, surged within her chest. With measured steps, she crossed the room to the tub still filled with water. She hunched over it, a sickening feeling overtaking her. She did not know whether she would wretch, cry, or scream.
Perhaps she would do all three.
The little bit of expectations she had held of this encounter were shattered not even a moment after she had finally met him. This was the man she was to marry. This was the man she would be expected to bear children with. This was the man whose side she would rule at.
And he wanted nothing to do with her beyond that; not her friendship, not her partnership, not any relationship.
So, she was not doomed to a life without Sasuke. She was not doomed to a life of mourning his death. Sakura was doomed to a life not only robbed of love, but void of any hopes of it.
She released the lip of the tub with a steady hand, a resolve born from the finality of her fate taking over.
She did not know what strength was left within her then, but she called upon whatever she could to get her through the rest of her miserable life. As her eyes swept the room again, they fell on her many pieces of luggage that housed the only belongings she had brought with her to Konoha. These were the last remnants of the woman she had once been. A woman she was beginning to forget. A woman who might once have been happy, pleasant, hopeful. . . and hopeless in the best sense of the word.
But now there was no more delaying the inevitable. There was no more 'not yet.' There was no more tomorrow.
It was here now, her future, and she could see it stretching in front of her, filling the room she stood in until it suffocated her.
Sakura stepped towards the nearest trunk and knelt down to pop the clasps open. She pushed the lid up and began to pull her coats out one by one. Each held its own memory of who she had been when she had worn it: a courtier, an heir, a daughter, a friend, a scholar, a lover, a fighter.
She did not know who she would be in Konoha. She did not know who the Hokage wanted her to be. But she knew that she had already lost herself long ago.
As her hands dove between the silks, the tips of her fingers hit a hard leather surface. She felt around and enclosed her hand around the material, pulling it up from the depths of her garments.
The hilt of her brother's sword, peeking from the leather scabbard, glinted as she held it in front of her.
Sakura's breathing stuttered, a choked, almost surprised laugh escaping her. She had forgotten that she had packed the sword, burying it at the bottom of one of her trunks to hide it from any prying eyes. She had forgotten the weight of it as she held it in her anxious grip. She had forgotten that she had left a piece of herself inside of it.
But as she unsheathed the blade, the reflection of her gaze echoed within the gleaming metal, the sight of it was enough to bring a small, tentative smile to her lips.