For ItaSaku Week '22 - Prompt: Hokage!Sakura/ANBU!Itachi
Summary: In a world in which only one member of Team Seven makes it to their fourteenth birthday, Sakura Haruno becomes the Sixth.
Non-Mass. AU.
A/N: It is OOC for sure, but I wanted to write a very different version of Itachi and Sakura than I typically do. Hope you enjoy it.
Similar to some of my other work, this is also based on word prompts.
Reputation
Contrary to popular belief, Sakura Haruno hadn't gone out of her way to become hokage.
She had merely done her duty; trained until blood dripped from her hands at crushed rocks; screamed until her voice was hoarse and blood came from there, too. Only then would she heal herself to start all over again. She cried until her body couldn't produce anymore tears. Her team had been so much stronger than her, but she'd been the one to make it. By sheer chance she'd gotten a chance to plunge a kunai in the missing-nin's throat. The poison that had killed her teammates had then eaten away at her chakra and body.
A passing sannin had been what saved her. Nothing more.
Just chance.
So, she hadn't dreamed of any title. Not when she laid awake and stared up at the stars for years desperately listening for the sound of snores or page turns. She hadn't imagined life continuing. Whenever she looked in the mirror, she still saw the little girl with a dark-eyed boy long dead on her right, a blonde who loved a life he could never live on her left and behind her a man she'd never get to ask another question like — how do you keep on living after you lose everything?
Instead, all she could do was tighten the band of her insignia, ignore the scar on her face, and turn away from the reflection of the dead. She focused on the minute, the hour, the day. Not on anything but the passage of time. Even when her muscles protested and the chakra exhaustion brought her to her knees, she forced herself back to her feet.
Shizune was always the one to drag her back to wherever they stayed.
Most days were unremarkable, insignificant, just another day until the day they returned to the village. The reflections in the mirror didn't fade. The voices in her head didn't either. Their last battle cries never once quieted with time. The reality though, was the stone. The concrete etching of the names she'd once considered her brethren. She'd never see them take another breath.
Sakura couldn't face the clan of her teammate, keeping to the other side of Konoha and looking away from the dark eyes that said too much, that looked too familiar. If she wasn't on the other side of Konoha, then she was at the training grounds.
Many nights, with Tsunade and Shizune too busy with duties of leadership, she'd be on the training field until she couldn't move any longer. She could barely turn herself over, but she always managed to. She'd watch the sunrise; feel almost another head upon her shoulder; see golden hair in the dew of morn. Then it would be gone.
If asked, she couldn't remember when she made chunin, or jounin or led the hospital. They weren't significant. Just another day. Just another year.
One day she became better than Shizune.
One day she became better than even Tsunade.
The only thing significant about those days were the words that echoed in her head from a young, bitter, pink-haired genin, 'A little too late.'
When Tsunade and the council had offered her the title. She'd accepted. Not because she felt any desire to rule the village. Not because there was recognition in what she had achieved. Instead, the only sound in her head belonged to a boy-child not yet fourteen screaming Dattaboy! It echoed there, proud of her, cheering her on. A weight in her chest alleviated.
Contrary to what the council and Tsunade believed, Sakura Haruno hadn't said the words, "Thank you," to them.
The day after was also significant. Because she'd been found in training field three by those meant to be guarding her. And her normal routine came to an end.
The empty masks looked down upon her. The cat one had been the first to speak.
"Your reputation precedes you," the ANBU had commented.
"What reputation is that?" she'd asked, not really giving a damn what this man had to say.
"You've power, strength, and skill. And yet still here you are, training until passing out. You know what they say about people who chase power."
She pulled herself to her feet, her body covered in dirt. Nowadays, it was hard to feel the pain like she used to. Her chakra pools larger, her endurance uncanny. At this point she stopped just to hear the rustling of grass, and pretend it to be paper and the wind in the trees could be a 'hnn.'
She laughed without smiling at the absurdity of the comment.
The cat masked one stiffened; the bird operative tapped their foot.
"I'm not chasing power." No. It wasn't power. To be honest, she has no word for it. It doesn't feel like she's chasing, more like running from. But what, she cannot name.
"It doesn't matter what you're chasing, you'll be sworn in today. This stops," The bird one spoke, motioning to the desolate and torn up training field. "I'll not have my men and women dying because our hokage wastes away her chakra and cannot defend herself."
Our hokage . Reality punched her gut. She couldn't send fucking thirteen-year-olds out and into the world to get their throats cut. No. She wouldn't do this. In all honesty, she'd rather strike her headband through and never return.
She packaged up the panic, the pain, the horror with a nod to the bird operative. She'd heard his voice in Tsunade's office. Who he was, she couldn't say. She'd never really bothered to assist at the hokage tower, spending most of her time knee deep in the hospital management.
What in hell had Tsunade been drinking to do this to her?
"Of course, ANBU-san," Sakura said. "This won't be a problem in the future." Namely because she wasn't going to stick around long enough to go to the ceremony and become hokage. She smiled as if to reassure them. Of course, they didn't know her, if they did, they'd probably not so easily bid farewell as she took leave to her apartment.
It took one minute to grab the bag under her bed, mask her chakra and teleport outside of the gates. From there she was like the wind, her feet pounding upon the planks of wood, propelling her forward.
Later, she learned, it had been the smile that had led to her capture. The bird had reported to Tsunade, and the woman had immediately flagged her as a flight risk.
"She's probably halfway out of Fire Country by now. Sakura Haruno doesn't smile. Go fetch her."
Interference
If someone didn't want to be hokage, tracking them down and forcing them to be one didn't seem like a valid way to lead a village to Itachi. As he flew through the trees, barely able to follow the trail of their 'soon-to-be', he questioned the commands of the current hokage and council.
He'd met Sakura Haruno as a child. There'd been nothing interesting about her then. He'd seen her at the hospital; he would confess it ran better under her leadership. That was it. She was a good medic. But her image was a reminder to him of what he'd lost long ago, and it made him turn away.
His mother had bawled that morning, making tea, just hearing the news of the new hokage. If Sakura, the weakest of team seven, could take the title; what would have Sasuke become had he lived? It had been a bittersweet pill. There'd been no celebration of the change in power in the Uchiha compound. Had things been different, an Uchiha would have led the village. Of that, they were certain.
Instead, all they got was a woman who wouldn't look any of them in the eye since her return to the village fifteen years ago, unless they had a mask on or were patients. And even then, her crisp and quick bedside manner had the majority of the Uchiha's biting at the bits.
Yet here he was, Uchiha heir, flying full speed towards her. The irony and raw rub of salt on his never healed wound not lost on him.
He caught up to her a mile before the border of Mist.
He hadn't actually thought of any words of persuasion and his annoyance had gotten the best of him. A fight had ensued.
And… He'd lost…
The first loss he'd had in, well, the thirty-five years since joining ANBU. He'd even used his sharingan towards the end, regardless of whether it would be treason to harm a fleeing almost-hokage of his village.
She'd still won. Ripped his fucking arm off and regrew it sort of win too.
Well, she was still regrowing the arm.
She had his still attached arm pinned by a leg, some chakra seal keeping his legs in place, and a look of concentration on her brow.
"You are to tell Tsunade and the council, I am going to Mist to gather intelligence. She's not to expect me back."
Ever. That was clear. Sakura Haruno had no plans to ever return to the village of her birth.
Slowly, feeling began returning to his regrown hand.
"You've received the highest honor in the village, why are you running away?" Surely not because he'd made it clear his ANBU operatives were not going to guard a chakra exhausted hokage. The woman's schedule was so well known that any enemy nin could learn about it from the bars in the area. It was worse than Tsunade's well known drinking problem.
It took several long minutes, but he saw the icy cold glare and concentration break into something filled with too many emotions.
She looked down at him then, meeting his gaze through his mask. "I won't send children to die in battle."
It was then that Itachi realized that the pain still fresh in the Uchiha compound was an unclosed wound shared by the person that would rule over them. It shouldn't make a difference. But it did. Sasuke hadn't been forgotten by his teammate, no, the problem now was too obvious. She couldn't forget him.
She'd make a difference; he could see it now. She wouldn't accept the old way, no. And she'd have the support of the Uchiha clan when the time came to make the change. "Then don't."
Sakura blinked at him. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You're in a position of authority to actually do something about it. So do something. Don't send children off to the battlefield."
Her knee slipped in her stupor, he pulled his uninjured arm free and broke ANBU code by removing his mask. His tomoes spun watching her, memorizing the tears cascading down her face into the crevices and scars, her hands still healing his other arm even with her drift in attention.
"Please, do not waste this opportunity. Give my brother and all the others that have died a voice."
Her skin paled to ashen, and she closed her eyes a long moment before opening them. She held his gaze then. After she finished healing him, she raised a hand to his face and wiped at his cheek.
Somehow, he'd ended up crying too it seemed.
"I'll give Sasuke a voice, Itachi," She told him.
The journey back to Konoha was slower going. They arrived together at dawn the next morning. They'd completely missed the ceremony, but it hadn't mattered. Sometime during their fight Sakura had become the sixth hokage. Probably when he'd treasonously tried to kill her.
Embarrassment
Itachi Uchiha, hadn't been just any ANBU operative, he led the entire ANBU organization. The reason she'd heard his voice with frequency was because he was constantly in the hokage office. He was an expert at tactics. He knew all the details of what was happening in the village and what was happening outside of it. He consumed the reports of everyone from genin to other ANBU while leaning against the wall next to her bookshelf. Scroll after scroll he'd scan with his sharingan before placing them back into the shelf for her assistant to later take to the archive room.
She'd finally gotten him to perform his current duties without the mask. She'd called him overly dressed to read mission reports, and the next day, he'd come in regular shinobi attire. His long hair tied neatly, everything about him put together. Even the way he reshelved mission reports was tidy.
Honestly the only thing she could pick at him for had been his attire. And now. Well, now she got to see he was put together under the mask more than with it. Here she thought the porcelain was hiding all flaws. She regretted it, just a bit. He was an Uchiha, and all of them were so similar, but after a month, it didn't even take a millisecond before her mind registered him as Itachi. Two seconds, Sasuke's Nii-san.
Her eyes dropped back to the report on her desk, and the stack beside it unread. She saw them all first; he, second. As surprised as she was initially that Tsunade hadn't placed Itachi as the hokage, it soon became apparent as to why. Itachi was far too valuable in his current position to move him elsewhere.
To be honest, Sakura didn't like valuable people. When valuable people died, for all did, they left gaping holes that couldn't be filled.
"I've a task for you, Itachi."
The man froze from his reading and looked up at her. His sharingan turned back to black solemn orbs. That was the only acknowledgement he gave.
"The system needs more redundancy."
"Redundancy?" Itachi asked.
"You and I are the only two who know what is going on. The chances are high that should the village be under attack we'd also be fighting the same opponent; we could very well die together. Assuming Konoha remains standing, without our knowledge or ability to brief someone on our current findings — including that of current border issues with Sand or the difficult ambassador negotiations with Wave, it could take weeks or months for such a recovery of information. If the archives continue to exist after the attack, and someone could spend the time re-reading them; how long would it take for someone to get all the context needed to safely run the village?"
"I suspect they'd be concerned with other things besides archived reports."
"In these reports could be patterns, an enemy lying in wait. That's the reason we read them."
"They also contain classified intel, and usually meaningless details. Time might be better spent training to deal with said enemies instead of out plotting them."
Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. "In the archives we could know they use water jutsu, that could change the tide of battle." Why was she always fighting with him?
"To pull out that information —"
"My task to you," my subordinate, Sakura bit her tongue on that one, "Is to build in redundancy, in some form. I'm asking you to remove the classified intel and the meaningless details. I want condensed weekly reports that can be read by all ANBU operatives, just a single page report will do, so they can be made aware of any developing situations." She snaps her fingers. "Like the Bingo book."
Itachi popped his neck. "Very well. Would you provide an example? In the last week what would you have included in the report?"
Sakura's gaze narrowed. Was he undermining her authority? "The border issue with Sound and the missing mercenary group on the south edge of Fire country."
"So… for clarity, you want a paper version of the verbal debrief I give my ANBU operatives every Thursday?"
Sakura blinked and then flushed. "You debrief your ANBU operatives?"
Itachi scoffed, "It's either that or I enjoy spending my time cooped up in this office with you."
Face still on fire, she turned back to the scroll in her hands. Well, she'd deserved that burn.
Appreciation
Things ran smoother in the village than even when the third had been in office. However, that is where Itachi's appreciation ended for the sixth hokage. He'd never paid much attention to 'how' the hospital had run so smoothly, only that less deaths occurred. And now he wished he'd asked the hospital staff their opinions upon Sakura Haruno.
He had now. They were relieved she was gone and no longer breathing down their necks.
The woman poked, prodded, twisted and turned just about everything, like wringing a dry cloth for water. She was certain she could extract another drop of liquid.
It was irritating and annoying.
Being as he, next to her assistant, had to spend the most time with the hokage. It made him want to pull his hair out, or hers. He'd been tempted on several occasions, on her harassment of his operatives to extract more information from them, to just grab a pink chunk and rip it clean from her skull.
He tapped his foot, watching at the hokage extracted even more details of the countryside and where a bush had been found from a chunin who shifted with unease and was dripping sweat.
"I hadn't meant anything by the miru-white berries, I just thought they fruited early is all. Was delicious," that was the fifth time the chunin had tried to dissuade Sakura from whatever the hell she really wanted.
To make their feet sore from standing, probably.
"And there were loads of them, all fruited? Approximate the number of bushes."
The chunin shifted back and forth. "There were giant patches just off the side of the road, you know when they grow wild, they don't really have bushes. Could have made three hundred pies at least.
The hokage bit her lip, "If you were to estimate the measure in square meters-"
"Hokage-sama," Itachi spoke, and the chunin practically breathed a sigh of relief at Itachi interrupting the questioning. "Perhaps we should go berry picking or grab some lunch?"
The look she shot him made the chunin flinch.
"You are excused," she waved off the chunin.
Sakura rose from her seat, robes flowing from the wind from the open window. She walked around the desk to stand before him and poked his chest with a finger as her green eyes glared. "You'll be the one to go berry picking."
"Oh?" If he did, he was definitely going to find a way to poison them. Treason or not. She was a medic, he'd call it a test if she lived.
"Take two ANBU operatives with you, your best and a chakra tracker. And bring a shovel."
"Do you want us to dig up the plants for you then? Count how many?"
She gave a half snarl. "I expect accuracy when I ask for it. And for my authority not to be questioned."
Itachi turned to leave, ready to burn all patches to the ground. Couldn't harvest any then, could he?
"Oh, and Itachi. Miru-white berries are sensitive to chakra. It takes a decent concentration, but you can fruit them. The amount of latent chakra in the earth must be in a high concentration to cause consistent fruiting early in the season." Sakura moved to the map of the country and pointed her finger at the roadway the chunin had been talking about. "Miru-white berries are also known in some regions, especially far outside of Fire Country, as battle berries. They grow very well and fruit over battle fields. They are good for recovering chakra too and can be a primary source of recovering chakra depletion."
Itachi's eyes narrowed.
Her finger moved fifteen miles south to the marker they'd placed for the empty mercenary encampment. She tapped her finger. "I think you'll find those mercenaries under the berry patch. I want to know who they were guarding on that road and who killed them."
Itachi blinked in surprise; he dipped his head. Perhaps there was something to her insane methods after all. "Of course, Hokage-sama."
"Oh, and Itachi."
"Yes?"
"I want four plants brought back for Konoha's medical facilities. The roots need to be dug around a circumference of eight feet with a root ball measuring 3 feet below the surface. Usage of a jutsu upon them or the earth they are in, with concentration, can stunt the growth if they are fruited. So, it will need to be done by hand."
She smiled then, an almost innocent looking smile. But it was twisted wrong in the corners, mostly from the scarring on her face. She didn't really smile. That was her sneer. "If there are body parts in the roots, don't remove them. It might get a bit smelly, so I'd suggest bringing perfume and a rag."
He made no more comment and left to gather tools and his fellow ANBU operatives.
Available
He'd made a mistake, somewhere in his life, perhaps in many places. The worst however, being that he'd let the hokage know that his tendency to stay late at work was a way to avoid Uchiha clan meetings. It had been an offhand comment. Things colleagues typically say when they complain about their family life or what not. Not that they were much more than colleagues. She was barely tolerable most days.
However, Sakura had somehow, strangely, converted this information into the fact that he was available. Available to her. As a sparring partner, on any whim she might have. After hours.
He enjoyed a good spar, to be sure. But this, as he assessed the damage to the area, this was not a spar.
There were five ANBU in the trees nearby, perching like birds, tense the entire fight wondering if they should step in.
In reflection, Itachi probably wouldn't have been able to make a choice in such a scenario either. Like them, he'd have waited it out, the choices and options almost too terrible to consider. Either a, they'd treasonously come to assist him and murder the hokage or b, they support the hokage and kill their leader.
He shouldn't have gone all out. But he had.
And still… He'd lost.
His legs were like lead, his body barely moving, and he was covered in slug slime to top it off.
The hokage had given a stretch, as if she hadn't struggled in the fight at all, and her eyes had gleamed.
The witch.
"You want me to do a water jutsu, clean it off?"
His eyes narrowed and he spat slime out of his mouth. "I can tend to myself, Hokage-sama. But your concern for my well being is appreciated."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Nonsense, I can take care of it."
She didn't ask and performed the jutsu behind her back so that he didn't see it coming. The water blasted him into a tree and almost drowned him, because his mouth had been opened to refute her.
The bitch. The fight was over.
As he coughed and sputtered, she hopped with a chakra induced leap to clear the difference.
"Ok there, Itachi?"
He spat the water at her, feeling like a drowned cat. Regardless of how chakra exhausted he was, his sharingan activated in his anger. He was going to unlock the Mangekyo ability with this amount of rage.
Every fractional movement of her face he committed to memory as she gloated. Her long pink hair flowing in the wind. One day he was going to burn it all off.
"Do you need me to heal you?" she raised a glowing hand.
It was difficult to know whether it was to heal or demolish with her, so he moved away.
"I'm perfectly fine Hokage-sama." Just injured pride. In front of his subordinates awaiting in the trees, probably snickering at him.
As if understanding if she pushed anymore, he'd quit his job and manage the police force instead, she leaned away.
"Take care in getting home, Itachi. Maybe one of our watchers can help get you back to the compound." She motioned to the tree line.
A dog ANBU dropped from a tree to them on the command and bowed to Sakura. Shisui. Great. Just Great.
Then she performed a teleportation jutsu and was gone with a breeze of wind.
Itachi took a deep breath, controlled the fury burning inside him and shut off his bloodline ability. His gaze turned to Shisui as he felt the other ANBU operatives disperse.
Shisui pulled off his mask and other ANBU attire. Popping it away into a scroll. "My shift is over so," he shrugged, "I guess I can walk my weak little cousin back to the compound."
He was dead tired, almost unable to move, but he could still kick Shisui's ass. A point he proved there and then, but it also landed both of them in the hospital.
"If I'd known you still had energy, Itachi," Sakura said as she pulled on gloves before inspecting the chakra laced wound on his shoulder. Just his luck, she'd actually gone to help out at the hospital after their fight. How much energy did this woman have, did she even sleep? "I'd have continued our spar for longer. How about a rematch on Friday?"
He was going to start showing up to clan meetings just as an excuse to avoid the hokage.
Satisfaction
It had been several bottles of sake from the Fire Lord. They needed to be used. Sakura just didn't normally drink. Instead, her addiction tended to be pummeling things into the earth and picking fights. Mostly the fights had been with the Head of ANBU. Which is why she ended up sharing the alcohol with him.
She'd meant it all innocently enough. After their spar, she'd offered to treat him to the finest sake she owned that was just sitting in her apartment untouched. She didn't drink alone, not wanting to end up like Tsunade. Tsunade and Shizune were back to traveling. And well - it had been a nice evening to host someone.
Sadly, her contacts were limited.
She'd little friends, more subordinates than she could count, and people were all bowy with reverence. It unnerved her. Except for Itachi.
Constantly he attempted to undermine her authority. In fact, Sakura was certain there was no one in the world Itachi hated more than her. But, he made for a good fight. He stretched her limitations. She felt more worn and tired than she had in a long time. It was wonderful. Almost like when she'd been training on the road in her youth. She liked to think she made him stretch his abilities too, and that being hokage didn't automatically give her the win. He made a good show of losing, always acting so bitter she couldn't help but battle him again.
It had been such a fine evening, dusk just falling over the land and covering it all in a golden light. The warmth of the day didn't dissipate too much, and it would be a splendid time to sit on her balcony and watch the citizens attend about their lives. It would also be nice to relax just a bit, and not stare at bottles of sake wondering when Tsunade would return to the village. Just a way to pass the time, talk and drink.
Thus.
Here they were. Watching dawn rise, their naked bodies under the thin sheet barely touching, not speaking.
Not that they had much to talk about. They ran out of work topics last night. Which is probably what led to the current predicament. Not that Sakura would complain too much about it.
The fact Itachi could use that mouth of his to beg and worship instead of tear her to pieces or use sarcasm had been the most satisfying aspect of the entire experience.
In fact, she turned to face him, such a repeat would make for a refreshing change to her morning routine of stretching. Well it would be stretching a different muscle than typical, anyway.
His black eyes stared into hers. Expressionless, no, not expressionless. Annoyed.
Well, she was pretty sure she could change that.
She slid a leg to the other side of his body and sat up, letting the sheet pool at her waist.
His sharingan activated.
He was many things, but definitely not annoyed anymore.