Marked by dense mountains with diverse wildlife and wide variety of flower types, the Land of Flowers, also called Hana no Kuni, is known for its natural beauty, but unbeknownst to travelers, venturing into the wrong place can prove to be disastrous. Even to veteran shinobi.

The village—Sakuragakure no Sato—was situated in a valley surrounded by volcanic mountains and with dense forests containing a large biodiversity, there were several waterfalls that descend into the lands. Sakuragakure; also known as The Village Hidden Amongst Cherry Blossoms, was a minor shinobi village that existed far northwest of the main continent which served as home to the Sakurai clan. Up until the Fourth Shinobi World War that claimed the lives of all but two of its members, the Sakurai clan served as a prominent clan in Sakuragakure and was responsible for giving the village its name.

Our tale begins here, in Sakuragakure, with Masaki and her father, Arashi.


She stared at the one person who claimed to love her the most, red hot tears burning a trail down her cheeks.

"Father…" The word was a broken plea that fell on deaf ears long since closed to the people around him. Masaki bit the inside of her mouth until the metallic taste of blood touched her tongue. Arashi was all she had. Ever since the war close to two years ago, Masaki and Arashi were the last pieces of a broken family, and of a clan shattered beyond repair.

A few tears dripped from her chin, splattering against the sticky varnish of the bar counter. Her gaze searched Arashi's blank face, a teenager's foolish optimism seeking just a hint of hope. The man's eyes diverted to the sake bottle in his hand, head lowered. Masaki recognized that for what it was—and that was a way to block her out.

The young kunoichi clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob rising in her throat. She took a step back, a second one, followed by another. An intoxicated patron slurred curses and insults at her when she ran into him on the way out. Masaki ducked beneath his arm, with all the grace of her chunin rank, and pushed her way out of the bar through the back door. She slammed it shut behind her, back hitting the door. Only then did she let the frustration and grief take control. With a sob, she slid down the door into a hunched over crouch.

Arashi Sakurai drowned his sorrows in booze to numb the memories haunting him day in and out. He wore his losses like a second skin, close to the surface and too raw to ever truly heal from. Masaki knew that pain, she lived it with him in the memories of her deceased mother and clansmen.

The splash was so slight, she almost missed it in her emotionally compromised state. Masaki inhaled slow and steady to calm her nerves. Her muscles tensed as she strained to listen. There it was again. Another splash of water and a… groan? She was on her feet in an instant, training pushing her through the urge to stay curled up in her own self-pity. Not when there was a job to do.

She reached out with her chakra, seeking the individual in need of assistance. Her chakra slid against another signature in a gentle probe. The foreign chakra flickered weakly against her own, dipping in and out. The chakra flared three times, a short followed by two long. Masaki cursed, high-heeled sandals clicking against the broad cobblestones as she squeezed down the narrow alley between the bar Arashi currently occupied and a brothel.

That was a universal code and the shinobi was fading fast.

She found him in a shallow riverbed and slumped against a cliff face, immobile, with a small stream of water flowing around him. One arm guard was completely missing, the other cracked so it hung loosely off his wrist. The grey flak jacket was soaked crimson across his chest and onto the white cloak spread open on the ground beneath him. "Help is here now, shinobi-san," Masaki dropped to her knees at his side. She pulled a pair of gloves from her medical pouch and tugged them on.

Gentle hands had already begun to turn him over when the wheezing reply came. "Ah. Finally." The porcelain mask muffled his voice, deepening the timbre.

A cracked crow mask stared up at her as she settled him on his back. A Konoha ANBU. "Designation and rank?" Glowing red hands grazed across his limbs, checking for fractures or artery punctures. She pressed the tips of his fingers and exposed toes, watching the skin shift from white to pink. Good, there's no internal bleeding in the appendages.

His muffled breathing came in gasps, ragged and wet from behind the mask. "K...Karasu." He coughed around the word. Bits of red trickled down his chin and into view at the mask's edge.

Masaki bit the inside of her cheek again. That sounded like a punctured lung. "Rank." She ordered as the chakra around her hands slid effortlessly from light red—a color common for Sakurai clansmen fusing chakra—to a garnet color and sharpened into Chakra Scalpels. She sliced through his flak jacket and shinobi blacks like butter and pulled the pieces open. An abyssal slash crossed deeply over his chest from collarbone to hip.

Karasu hissed and clenched his hands so tightly, she was sure they'd turn white beneath his gloves. "A-Ansatsu Senjutsu... T-Toku...shu Butai." It was good to keep him talking, that kept him conscious and alive. But each word was more of a struggle for him. "A-ANBU…"

"This is going to hurt, but please, try not to scream." Karasu's chest heaved beneath her hands as Masaki's chakra morphed back to light red and pushed into the open wound. The ANBU's back arched, muscles taut in silent agony, but he didn't make more than a weak groan.

The medic focused on the task at hand, meticulously knitting the severed tendons and muscle back together from the deepest point outward. The cut was clean and straight through, most likely from a katana or other sword type. The nerves stitched beneath the invading chakra, though reattaching veins took more concentration. Karasu wheezed on a moan, blood almost choking him when he coughed again.

That damn mask is obstructing his airway! Masaki reached to remove the mask.

Karasu grabbed her wrist in a shaky, yet hard hold. "No."

"You can't breathe properly with it on."

"Not out in the open, please..." His grip loosened, then went limp as the ANBU passed out.

Masaki huffed but finished healing the wound to the point he could be moved without bleeding out. She hefted the unconscious ANBU into her lap, slipped her arms around his ribs and formed a tiger seal. Masaki felt the unfamiliar pull on her chakra as she teleported both of them to her home in the old Sakurai clan compound located in the village's Tsuki district.

The kunoichi gently but quickly laid Karasu out on his back and stripped him of his tattered shirt, flak jacket, cloak and mask. Setting them aside, she returned to the half-healed wound. Masaki stitched the remaining muscle and skin back together. The ANBU's toned muscles quivered beneath her healing touch. She infused the epidermis with a bit of her chakra, smoothing out the rather angry scar it left behind.

With the threat of him bleeding out neutralized, she ran a quick diagnostic jutsu over his lungs and heart. Miraculously, his heart avoided any damage, but the right lung was half collapsed and full of blood. She left his side long enough to retrieve the medical bag that Arashi rarely allowed her to touch. One of the main reasons for that being it belonged to her mother. If Karasu's breathing was any indication, he was running out of time.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. She'll deal with her father's anger later.

Masaki pressed her fingers firmly into his bare skin, searching until she located the clavicular notch and costal cartilage of the seventh true rib. Using these two points as a guide, she inched across his torso until she found the fleshy space between the third and fourth true ribs. Using a finely sharpened Chakra Scalpel, she parted tissue and muscle into the collapsing lung. She fed her chakra in a steady trickle through the small cavity to slowly reinflate Karasu's lung. Her chakra skimmed the lung's interior, healing any remaining damage from the sword strike.

Masaki traced the fourth rib around the ANBU's side and used her Chakra Scalpel to make a second, small incision into the lung. It was from the second access point the chunin medic drew the pooled blood from his lung. Crimson splattered across the floor and on her clothes. Karasu's breathing eased a bit. She healed the second incision shut once the blood was all removed.

With one hand, she snapped the medical bag open and withdrew a chest tube. Coating it with chakra, she eased the tube through the small cavity and into the ANBU's lung. Next came the sterilized, parchment-thin balloon. Perspiration broke out across Masaki's temple as she fed the balloon through the chest tube and used her chakra to slowly inflate it and shift it into position so he could breathe. Slowly, she eased her chakra from the lung, letting the balloon support the lung on its own.

The medic waited with bated breath as Karasu inhaled and exhaled shallowly. The balloon held, Masaki let out a sigh. With a dwindling reserve of chakra, she taped the tube to his chest, healed the skin around it and securely covered the opening with a shinobi-grade field dressing. "There, Karasu-san, good as new." The balloon would support his lung while it healed. Another medic would have to remove it back in his home village of Konoha.

She removed the bloody gloves, folding one inside the other with practiced ease. With the most prominent injuries taken care of, the young medic turned her attention to Karasu's head. Her cheeks flushed softly as she got her first good look at the ANBU she'd been working on. He was young, very young actually. Perhaps a little older than her if she judged correctly. And handsome. Oh! So, handsome. Even with the left side of his face badly bruised and swelled around the cranium.

Masaki reached deep and dragged the last vestiges of her dwindling chakra into her hands for a diagnostic jutsu. Her hands swept skillfully across his skull and down the base of his neck. She lingered over the swelling, letting out a relieved sigh when it turned out to be a mild concussion and nothing more serious. She didn't have the chakra reserves to repair a fractured skull or brain swelling.

"Lucky bastard." She muttered under her breath.

"Definitely lucky to wake up to a beauty like you."

Masaki jumped at the quip, hands quickly withdrawing from his long ebony locks. "You're awake!"

"Awake huh?" Karasu chuckled and winced, most likely having jarred his wounds. He'd be sore for weeks with that balloon supporting his lung. "I swore I died and went to hell. I suppose hell's not so bad if you can keep an angel with you."

Masaki's cheeks tingled, but she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're very much alive, Karasu-san." She pushed down on his ribs, gaining a pained grunt for her effort. "I've had a long day. Don't make me regret saving your ass."

Karasu brought a shaky hand to his chest and grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, beauty."

The medic felt her ears start to burn, her entire face reddening quickly. That smile made his cheeks dimple and- and- he was so damn good looking it was a sin! "Don't call me that!"

"But you're the beauty that saved me from the reaper." He waved his hand lazily in the air, black eyes soft when he looked at her. "My saviour, beauty suits you so well- ack!"

Masaki shoved a roll of gauze into his mouth. "Looks like there's no need to worry about your concussion." She pressed lightly around the dressing on his chest, drawing a muffled groan from her patient. "Your lung seems to be working well with the balloon's support." She ignored the comical way his eyes bulged in surprise. "Yes, your lung was punctured by that katana. It was collapsing when I found you. I used a medical balloon to reinflate it. You'll have to get it removed in Konoha in a week or two."

Karasu spit the gauze out and pushed up onto an elbow, his fingers curling over the bandage that covered the chest tube. "Damn! I would've drowned in my own blood…" He glanced over to her in sheer wonder, eyes dark with an emotion she couldn't quite place. "You really did save my life."

She snapped the medical bag shut with a smile. "That's my duty as an iryo-nin."

"True, but-"

"I would do it again, Karasu-san." She smoothed some medical tape across the edges of the field dressing out of extra caution. This was an ANBU. Who knew what danger he'd fling himself headfirst into when he left her care. "Not that I make a habit of shunshining strange masked men into my home."

Her attempt at a joke went unnoticed. Karasu continued to stare at her with that unreadable expression in his dark eyes. "What's your name?" He finally asked.

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. Her stomach fluttered and did a weird lurch beneath the intensity of his gaze. She squirmed a bit, abashed and anxious. "Ma-Masaki Sakurai." There was really no reason for her to feel so flustered.

"Masaki…." He reached for her hand and drew it to his mouth. Karasu's lips brushed lightly across her knuckles. "The name suits you."

The medic-nin jumped and yanked her hand back. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just showing appreciation to the beauty that saved my life."

Masaki returned the medical bag back to her father's bedroom, in the exact same place and position it was found in. "As I said, I just did what any iryo-nin would do."

"Well, you're one hell of a medic." Karasu let out a low whistle and rubbed a hand over the newly healed sword slash. He ran the other hand through his chin-length bangs. His shoulders dropped a bit, tension Masaki hadn't noticed before slowly easing from his muscles. He was just as nervous as her.

Huh.

"So, Masaki Sakurai, medical-nin extraordinaire, since I'm going nowhere fast why not tell me a bit more about yourself?"

Once Karasu donned casual clothing from a summoning scroll and sealed the remains of his ANBU uniform back into it, she did just that. With a steamy pot of oolong tea and plate of dango between them, the unlikely pair settled at the small kotatsu.

"I come from my village's Sakurai clan. My mother perished along with the majority of our clan during the last war, when the white Zetsu infiltrated all the divisions that they were in. It's been my father and I ever since the war ended, but I and several others in my village learnt medical ninjutsu from a visiting Konoha kunoichi that sought to improve relations between fellow villages of the union. Just recently, I've been promoted."

"Ah, so a Chūnin then." Karasu poured them both a cup of tea when it was done steeping and snagged a dango stick from the plate. "That's one hell of a master you've got." He tipped the teacup up to take a swig-

"Sakura-shisou is incredible."

-and promptly spat it out in shock. "Sakura was the one that taught you medical ninjutsu?"

It wasn't lost on Masaki how casually the ANBU spoke about Sakura. "You've heard of her." She sipped her own tea casually.

"Of course I heard of her." The ANBU set his teacup down on the kotatsu. "She's affianced to my younger brother."

Masaki didn't stop the grin. "So, Karasu-san, what about you? Can you tell me anything about yourself?" This felt like a strange grey area now that he was out of the ANBU uniform. She didn't know exactly where they fell in terms of confidentiality.

"At this point, it'll be safer for me to finish my mission as a member of the normal forces. The group of agitators I was after are searching for an ANBU." He propped his chin on an upturned palm, head tilting to one side in thought. "I suppose the next time we cross paths, you'll know who I am, having seen my face and all."

"Well then, let's try this again, shall we?" Masaki stretched her hand across the small kotatsu towards him. "Masaki Sakurai, chunin medic of Sakuragakure, just turned eighteen today. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Well, happy birthday to you, beautiful." He grinned, accepting her hand for a light shake. "Itachi Uchiha, twenty-four, jōnin of Konohagakure at your service." He laced their fingers together and settled their joined hands onto the kotatsu top.

Masaki felt her cheeks heat up again but relented to the physical contact. It wasn't bad. On the contrary, it felt rather nice. She could feel the callouses along his palm and fingers from handling weapons. Most medic-nin lacked such a telltale shinobi signature. "So, Itachi Uchiha, I must know. What did you mean by agitators? Agitators for what?"

"The Kage and representatives got reports that there were a group of rogue ninja unsatisfied with the new way of things. Furthermore, they sought to bring back the old ways of every village and country out for itself. That is what I was sent out here to investigate and prevent."

"I see." She blew the steam away and took a sip. "Kakashi-sama is the new Hokage, right? You must work closely with him."

"Kakashi would admonish you if he heard you call him that." Itachi got another dango stick and eased back onto the zabuton, wincing from the pain brought on by the effort. "I've known him from my early days starting out in the ANBU, when he was my senpai and squad captain."

Masaki mimicked his low whistle from earlier. "That is impressive."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were teasing me, Masaki."

She smiled wide enough to show her teeth. "Of course not, ANBU-san."

The conversation continued with the light-hearted banter. Talking to Itachi felt like meeting with an old friend. His kind nature and perchance for teasing had her laughing and rolling her eyes throughout the conversation. The topics shifted from their precious people, to jokes, their favorite food and to the weapons they preferred to use.

"I'm surprised Sakura didn't try to pass on that monstrous strength of hers." Itachi pulled his shirt up so Masaki could check his wounds and do a bit more healing. "Should she and my brother have children, she should at least teach it to them if no one else."

The skin knit together nicely, though it was still fragile and tender to the touch. The chest tube and balloon responded well when she sent a trickle of chakra through to double-check her work. "I prefer to use fire, more specifically, my heat based kekkei genkai. If fire doesn't work, then I go for the Sakurai clan hiden which is a series of ninjutsu and genjutsu that incorporates flowers."

Itachi stared at her with wide eyes, the dango stick slipping from his slacked jaw. It clattered to the floor, completely forgotten. "Well damn. I think I'm in love."

"Don't say things like that! Love's not something to joke about."

"You can't blame a man for being honest." He pulled a black scroll from his pouch and held it out towards her. "I bet you could do some serious damage combining these with your jutsu. Because of the four laws that govern medical-nin, you're not allowed to engage in close range combat. This'll help with that restriction."

Masaki took the scroll reluctantly, unraveling it on the floor and focused her chakra through her palm into the summoning formula. Once the smoke had dissipated, she gawked at what was revealed. "Did you get these specially made?"

Laying on the floor in front of her were twin chakrams. The chakrams took on the appearance of two platinum colored rings with a single large blade fastened on the front, made at a curve, and a smaller one in the center nearer to the handle. The handle was wrapped in black bandages and from what Masaki could tell, the blades looked to be made from a higher grade of chakra conductive metal.

"They were made by an old woman that lives in Sora-Ku." Itachi explained and tugged his shirt back into place once she gave him the all clear. "Just think of them as a birthday present."

"Thank you, Itachi, that's really sweet of you." She smiled, eyes softening as she resealed the chakrams into the scroll and stored said scroll in her weapon pouch. A small—nagging—voice reminded her that's all she got for her birthday, but Masaki pushed it down to linger alongside her disappointment and pain. Just because they were currently at odds with each other didn't mean Arashi stopped loving her. Masaki worried for her father. Nothing she did seemed to ease the man's pain.

"You know I wasn't joking about the love thing." Itachi squeezed her hand lightly. "You're one hell of a woman, Masaki. I'd love to go out with you if you're willing to give me a shot."

Masaki's brain stuttered to a stop as it tried to wrap itself around the sudden declaration. Her stomach did a weird flip, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "...You cannot be serious." She tried to pull her hand away, but he held firm. "W-We only just met."

"I am serious, because I really like you." He shifted closer on his knees and brushed his thumb across her knuckles. "We're shinobi. We spend every day with death chasing our backs. I could walk out of this place and be killed. Life's too short to waste it on regrets, the what-ifs and the maybes. You're smart, funny and one hell of a medic. I want you to be my girl."

Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach doing that weird flip-flopping thing again. Masaki searched his face, trying to pick up some hint of disingenuity. Those black eyes remained fixed as he waited for her answer. This was really happening. He was asking her for a relationship. Not just a date, but a solid commitment. "I've only even been to Konoha once, but that was when the village was hosting the exams. I don't know if I'll ever get to revisit. My father needs me, and as long as he keeps going the way he's going, I'm not leaving him."

Itachi scowled, his head lowering for a minute. "Then I'll just have to visit you. I've got a summoning contract with crows, we can send letters back and forth. We'll figure it out as we go."

Something tight inside her eased at that and seemed to lift a heavy weight from her shoulders. Itachi wanted her. He genuinely cared. That nagging loneliness wasn't quite so prominent at the moment. "Are you sure? It won't be easy…"

Itachi grabbed both her hands and clasped them firmly between his own. "Masaki Sakurai, chunin medic of Sakuragakure, will you give this relationship thing a chance with me?"

Masaki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden declaration. A giggle bubbled up inside her, then another until she was laughing so hard tears brimmed in her eyes. "Yes." She nodded when he stared at her in stunned silence. "Yes, I'll give it a try."

"Oh yeah!" Itachi let out a whoop and pulled her in for a hug.

"You must be careful!" Her hands went to his shoulders to keep pressure from his chest. "You don't want to reopen your wounds."

"My new girlfriend's so considerate." He teased playfully and pressed their foreheads together. Itachi slipped his fingers through her long hair, letting the dark locks twist around his fingers. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to kiss you now."

Without waiting for a response, he tilted his head and fit their mouths together gently. Her eyes widened, then slid shut. Masaki's hands tightened on his shoulders, her fingers digging into his biceps through the thick shirt. Her heart pounded in her ears, lips tingling from the soft pressure. Her breath hitched when he pressed gentle butterfly kisses to her mouth, followed by both cheeks and her forehead.

"W-wow." She stammered when he finally drew back. This was her very first boyfriend and she'd just shared her first kiss with him. How so wonderfully exciting!


Hello, readers. War Fans and Cherry Blossoms is a prequel to Down Came a Blackbird, a fanfic that takes place around Boruto's timeline and will be centered on the main OFC, the daughter of Itachi and Masaki.

What are your predictions? With the Uchiha clan around, how different do you think the Boruto's era will be? How different do you think things will play out?