Kakashi watched the wheels of the caravan ahead of his, as it struggled through a dip in the forest path. Roads in the Country of Fire were designed to use the natural terrain to deter attacks from enemies, which meant they were somewhat notorious for their lack of upkeep. There was a reason the capital was "hidden" in the leaves, after all.
It made Kakashi anxious to travel so slowly, in such a large and vulnerable convoy. He'd done a thousand escort missions in the past, but guards were free to walk or ride alongside the carts and wagons, or even flit through the trees, invisible. Here, perched on the seat beside the driver, he was far too exposed for comfort.
Still, it was better than being inside. This particular convoy's configuration had him and the other VIPs in the middle, riding in caravans decked out like miniature apartments on wheels. Kakashi had one entirely to himself. It was the height of luxury compared to the smaller carts and wagons hauling camping supplies and other necessities. The other VIPs (including the feudal lord's younger son and a few minor nobles and favoured attendants that formed his entourage) tended to stay within the canvas walls of their wagons in between stops, only emerging to stretch their legs and complain.
Tanuki was staying close by, head twisting toward every snapping twig or rustling leaf. The forest pressed in on them from all sides, meaning she had to monitor 360 degrees of potential threats to his noble personage. She was possibly being a little too paranoid, considering he was, well, him. If something did manage to break through their agents in the treeline, Kakashi could more than handle himself.
He would never admit it within earshot of her, but he almost wished for it. Years of fights, including two actual wars, had conditioned him toward conflict. He never enjoyed the killing, but without it his adrenaline had nowhere to go. There was only so much stimulation in the verbal conflicts of the political sphere, and he fairly itched with the need to do more.
As if sensing his controversial thoughts, Tanuki turned her masked face toward him. She had remained inscrutable, offering monosyllabic responses when she could get away with it, and melting into the shadows so often that Kakashi had begun to wonder if it was more than just eager rookie vigilance. Maybe she just didn't like him all that much.
"How are you travelling?" she called up softly, taking him by surprise. This was the first question she'd asked that didn't directly relate to his safety.
"By horse," he said automatically, gesturing to the pair of smart grey geldings that pulled his home away from home.
Tanuki cocked her head to the side, which he chose to interpret as uproarious laughter at his joke. "Are you feeling bored?"
Yes, a thousand times yes. "Oh, not me. I haven't been on the open road in more than a year, so I'm perfectly content."
"We can stop for a bit if you want to stretch your legs."
Tempting, but frequent stops would just make the journey take longer. "It's not too much further to our next campsite. We should just power through."
She turned back to the road, so that even her mask was hidden by the hood she always wore. "You can walk with me for a bit, as long as you don't stray too far."
That was interesting; but also suspicious. "Why?"
She cocked her head again. "Because if you're out of position you'll be putting yourself in danger?"
"No," he shook his head, "I mean, why let me walk? I'm a VIP; I shouldn't be expected to go to the bathroom without at least a palanquin."
"You're not that kind of VIP."
"How do you know?" he teased, because she probably had heard horror stories about the Hokage's incorrigibility from her superiors.
Tanuki fell silent for a while, half-jogging alongside the wagon with the ease of someone who had trained many hard years. "Shinobi aren't built for sitting around," she said finally. "Especially not when their comrades are walking."
He chuckled, sliding off the driver's seat and onto the rocky path beside her. "You sure you can protect me if I'm on the ground?"
"With my life," she said automatically, surprising him once again. "But get back on the wagon at the first sign of trouble so that I don't have to, okay?"
"Yes ma'am."
"I mean it," she warned. "VIPs don't fight unless directly engaged by the enemy."
"I promise," he said, holding up his middle three fingers in a salute of honour. "Did you know, this is probably the longest conversation we've ever had."
"I'm here to protect you, not amuse you."
"Consider me unamused," he said, amused.
The day wore on, summer giving them plenty of sunlit hours to travel. But when they reached their designated campsite (a largish clearing that had been checked by the scouts for any traps or enemies), the security detail refused to even consider just pressing on further until the light gave out. Kakashi couldn't necessarily blame them (he'd have made the same call if it were he in charge) but groaned inwardly at the prospect of dealing with his civilian peers for the evening.
Only once the wagons were placed, the horses unhitched, and the tents raised did the nobles finally appear, but that still gave them plenty of time to annoy Kakashi. A few snotty kids got underfoot, scaring horses and their nannies alike as they worked off their pent-up energy. The adults were less active but more directly irritating. They ordered shinobi around like they were just an extension of their personal staff, and not professional killers hired to protect them on a dangerous road. He was disgusted at how out of touch they all were, to view the backbone of their village's economy and safety as mere attendants.
The worst of all of them was a man named Hiro. As the feudal lord's third-born son he had great power, but very little in the way of responsibility or scrutiny. Sure, he was the one attending this year's chunin exam in his father's stead; but everyone knew the nobles were just there to gamble on the outcome and offer cushy private security jobs to any shinobi with the right qualities.
Kakashi knew that many of those private security gigs had little to do with security. Sometimes, the "qualities" nobles were looking for were not strength or skill, but beauty. For a genin with few prospects beyond a violent death, becoming a rich noble's pet was not always an unappealing prospect. He himself had been propositioned more than once, as a handsome boy with good manners and a few flashy jutsu up his sleeves. It was part of the reason he'd started reading dirty books and letting his hair grow however it wanted; to lessen his attractiveness to "collectors."
Hiro reminded Kakashi of those other nobles from his youth. All of his personal attendants seemed to be beautiful, female, and silent. They were also, as far as Kakashi could tell, civilians, but for whatever reason Hiro had decided that his next addition would be a kunoichi.
"Kakashi-dono!" The man himself had caught sight of Kakashi and was making a beeline for him. "Just the man I've been looking for. I've been spending our gods-awful trek in deep contemplation, and I have about a thousand new questions for you."
Kakashi fought the urge to roll his eyes back into his head. From day one, the man had been seeking him out with questions ranging from the ignorant ("how do kunoichi manage to kill anyone without fainting at all the blood?") to the actively repugnant ("is it true that kunoichi have a special examination to test their seduction skills?"). He seemed to have gotten it into his head that Kakashi not only knew the answers to all of his questions, but was the sort of person who was more than happy to discuss such things at length. He admitted that his primary choice in literature for the past decade might have had an impact on that perception; but in fairness he'd diligently avoided reading his books in public ever since donning the cap (even though it would have made the current journey pass a lot faster). It would be unfair to brand him a pervert these days, especially of the same kind as Hiro.
"Hello Hiro-dono," he said, forcing himself to look the man in the eye. "I hear the mess tent has already begun serving dinner. You should hurry over before it gets cold."
Hiro waved his hand in a dismissive motion. "I already told Chiaki to fetch me something. Where's Tanuki?"
This was another major reason that Kakashi hated the man. Yes, he had made it clear that he would be "shopping" for a kunoichi during the final exam in Suna. He'd also described the qualities he was seeking in granular detail to Kakashi (against Kakashi's will, obviously). But despite Tanuki being literally covered from head to toe, to the point that you couldn't even tell the colour of her hair, Hiro flirted outrageously with her. He seemed to consider it a challenge to be allowed a glimpse of her true appearance and identity, which had only intensified after Kakashi had let slip that he didn't know either.
"Tanuki is debriefing with the perimeter guard," he said tersely, eyes casting about for literally any other distraction. "You might have to go looking if you want to find her."
"Oh, pish," another dismissive wave. "You and I both know she'll be back at your elbow before too long. Devoted, that one." He winked. "I can see why you don't want me stealing her away from you."
He ground his teeth. Tanuki may have been uptight and unfriendly, but she was a gods-damned professional, one whose job carried unusual risk and responsibility. She didn't deserve to be harassed by some twenty-something bachelor who acted like the perfect gentleman in her presence, but would only ever see her as an exotic addition to his harem. "You can't steal what I don't own." The man seemed to view the position of Hokage as a collector of a different sort, and couldn't comprehend that Kakashi found that idea abhorrent.
"A little lesson about women, Kakashi-dono," the younger man leaned in, "is that they like to be chased. You have to show them you can put your money where your mouth is, so to speak. He scratched the non-existent stubble on his perfectly manicured chin. Kakashi wondered if his female attendants shaved his face for him, and what they thought about when they held the razor to his neck.
"Thank you for the lesson, but I'm afraid it's wasted on a broke, lazy scarecrow like me." He smiled sweetly. "When women tell me no, I choose to believe them."
"And that's why Tanuki will be working for me by the end of this trip." Hiro grinned. "Bet on it."
To Kakashi's eternal relief, the man left shortly after that. He watched the back of his head as it disappeared around the corner, presumably back to his caravan full of servants. It was only once he'd left that Kakashi realised his body was tensed for a fight.
"I fucking hate that man," he muttered to himself, forcing his fists to unclench.
"Careful how loud you say that sort of thing." Tanuki appeared from the shadows, startling Kakashi (which was not, strictly speaking, something anybody should be able to do to a seasoned shinobi).
"How long have you been there?" he asked, and Tanuki shrugged.
"About five seconds? I saw you were talking to another VIP and decided to give you both some privacy."
He snorted. "You mean you were avoiding Hiro, because he's the world's biggest creep."
"I didn't say that. And neither should you, if you value your position."
He sighed, because she was right. He knew all too well that while he may be the one with his face on the side of the mountain, the nobles of the Country of Fire held a lot of the true power. They had already made his life difficult; one misstep, and they could make it hell.
"Say, Tanuki," Kakashi began, "how would you feel about switching out with Bear or Turtle for the next few days?" Bear and Turtle were two of the other ANBU assigned to the trip. Where Tanuki was assigned personal protection detail, they were part of the general security cell, protecting the entire convoy from a distance. They were also both men.
Tanuki cocked her head to the side. "You want to get rid of me?"
"No! Well, yes, but it's nothing personal."
"You doubt my abilities because I'm a rookie?"
"That's not it, I just think a man might have less-"
"You don't trust me to protect you because I'm a woman?"
"Of course not!" Talking with Hiro had made him feel creepy by association, and now none of his words seemed to be coming out right. "Women can do anything men can do! My predecessor was a woman, and she was one of the strongest people I've ever met. And the second-best medic in the world, to boot!"
Tanuki stared at him mutely for a few seconds, the mask making it impossible to read her emotions. He'd teased her out of boredom once or twice, but he had never wanted to actually insult her (much less her entire gender).
And then she laughed. It was an entirely unexpected sound, one she hadn't made in his presence before. It made her seem a little younger, a little less stern.
"Sorry," she told him, her voice still full of mirth. "I couldn't resist messing with you, just a little."
"Yet another subordinate who takes pleasure in antagonising me," he grumbled, though it was his weakest performance to date. "Where do I keep finding them?"
"I'm sure Bear or Turtle would treat you with complete deference, Hokage-sama," Tanuki said, "but something tells me you prefer it when people are comfortable in your presence."
"You could say that," he agreed. "I guess I've got too many Naruto-types in my life keeping me humble."
"Uzumaki Naruto? I'd consider it a great compliment to be likened to him."
Kakashi sobered a little. "He's the one who should be doing this."
"Doing what?"
"The whole cap-and-gown, running the village, overseeing diplomatic events thing, I suppose." And then he could go back to being an idle jounin, with the freedom that came with it. Hell, he might even consider retiring, if the Era of Peace decided to stick this time.
Tanuki turned away, as if reflexively checking for eavesdroppers. He supposed it was a pretty scandalous thing for the Hokage to just blurt out in mixed company. "So why are you the one doing it?"
"Well," he leaned against the side of his caravan, surprised at how quickly he'd opened up to Tanuki once it was confirmed she did, in fact, have a personality hidden under that mask of hers. "Naruto is still a bit too green, for one thing. And someone I care about was worried he'd end up hating it as much as I do."
The sun was finally setting, and he gazed up at the tiny patch of sky visible from the clearing. The stars would have been beautiful out on the road, had it not been terminally overcast.
"Hokage-sama?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there a chance the person you care about might also care about you?"
"I think she probably did, once upon a time. Why do you ask?"
"Because maybe she thought you would also hate being Hokage. Maybe she didn't want this for Naruto or you."
"Oh, undoubtedly. In fact, she told me as much more than once."
"Then why," Tanuki sounded exasperated, "did you agree to do it?"
"Because for all that the position of Hokage requires far more politicking than I really have the patience for, it's also the person who can make the most changes. That person I care about wasn't just worried about Naruto's and my future, but everyone's." He smiled to himself. "I wanted to protect the village she loves."
"She's lucky to have a friend like you."
Kakashi made a noncommittal noise. He doubted Sakura would have agreed, but there was no point in offloading all of his problems onto his poor bodyguard. "Anyway, I suppose the mess hall awaits. You should tag out with the night guards and get some rest. I want to do a lot of walking tomorrow, so you'll have to work twice as hard at keeping me safe."
She dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Until then, Hokage-sama."
On the fourth day, it rained.
Tanuki tried to convince him it was alright to stay in the caravan where it was dry, but he couldn't bear the double standard. She herself was soaked through, her hood dripping with water and her boots caked in ankle-high mud.
"How about we both ride today?" he offered, gesturing to the ample room between himself and the driver, but she shook her head.
"That wouldn't work."
He gave up without much protest, not really expecting a hardened ANBU agent to accept a comfy wagon ride while on the clock. Instead, he threw on a rain poncho and splashed down beside her.
"Looks like we're both walking, then."
The caravan driver looked at him like he was mad, but he just cheerfully waved him along. He was no stranger to inclement weather. Slogging along in the mud like this, he could almost pretend he was a normal shinobi out on a normal mission, escorting some fancy noble to their favourite onsen or whatever.
The illusion was shattered in the late afternoon, when someone killed the driver.
He slumped forward with two kunai in his neck, falling off his seat and under the wheels before Kakashi could even react. The horses panicked, and shouts rose up along the entire convoy as other wagons were similarly disabled.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he almost tore it off from sheer adrenaline-fueled instinct. But it was only Tanuki, her masked face close to his. She drew a short steel rod from her belt holster and flicked it so that it extended to the length of a baton.
"Get inside."
She shoved him toward the caravan which was being dragged in fits and starts by the horses, churning up the already uneven road and coming dangerously close to slamming into the one ahead of them. "Go!" she shouted again, when he turned back to her. "Stay in posi-"
Her words were cut off by another volley of kunai from the treeline that slammed into her back with enough force to knock her facedown in the mud. Kakashi stared. He was no stranger to death, of course, but it had been a while since anyone had come close to dying in front of him. The last time would have been Sakura, choking and thrashing as the river pulled her down.
He ran for the caravan, leaping onto the empty driver's seat and recapturing the reins. The horses bucked, but eventually settled enough for him to take stock of the chaos around them.
Other guards had bled onto the road from their vantage points in the underbrush, forming up around the VIP wagons. The sounds of fighting echoed over the roar of the rain, meaning there were still more of their men engaged with the enemy. He'd been briefed half a dozen times about the numbers and protocols for the journey, but the perimeter guards worked in at least 4 shifts, meaning he'd never seen them all at once and been able to appreciate just how many there were. What on earth had they been expecting to happen?
Despite the astonishing number of shinobi, the enemy pressed in from all sides, and Kakashi got his first glimpse at them. They looked like mercenaries; some wore muted fatigues that might have been a uniform once, but most were dressed more individualistically. He glimpsed a man through the trees who wore a red leather jacket and appeared to specialise in fire-type jutsu. He breathed a roaring ball of fire at the outer ring of guards, and even in the rain Kakashi could feel the wave of heat and smell the horrible scent of burning meat and hair.
The horses shied away to the left, ripping the reins from his hands and jolting him to his knees on the wooden floor of the driver's seat. Guards were spreading thin, covering the holes punched in their defences as best they could. There was screaming and yelling from the civilian caravans ahead of him. Kakashi seethed with frustration, watching his men fall in the course of their duty to protect them.
"Fuck this," he muttered. He was the gods-damned Hokage; he could do more than cower on his pedestal and watch. He leaped off the side of the wagon and crashed onto a mercenary who had just broken the treeline. The man went down and stayed there, but Kakashi was too busy killing the next four to bother double-tapping regardless. The others could dispatch them easily enough, if it came to it.
"Fall back to the other VIP wagons!" he shouted at the nearest guards, who seemed to take his presence in their stride. Probably Tanuki was the only one who had actually taken the directive to protect the strongest ninja in the village seriously, and she was already…
He swung an arc of lightning into a pair of unlucky mercs who had been foolish enough to cluster up, and continued to push his way forward. His caravan had been last in the line of VIPs, meaning Hiro and the other nobles that needed protecting were all further ahead. As for the civilians who were not nobles (drivers, cooks, porters) they were spread all along the convoy and were therefore impossible to reach, but he hoped the enemy only cared about the higher-profile targets anyway.
A trio of bulky men with swords tried to box him from too many sides to defend, but they had underestimated his range. Rather than attempting to focus his lightning into a finesse weapon like Raikiri, his whole body swirled with a surge of power. He could release it in a full circle, with him in the middle, and kill all three at once.
"Wait!" A voice cried over the shriek of electricity. He couldn't tell if it was directed at him, but something in the voice compelled his obedience, and he fought to pull back his jutsu. But it was too late to contain it and it burst forth like a wave. The scent of ozone was in his nose, the stark white of his own elemental chakra burning jagged bolts into his vision. The two men in his sights raised their swords, glowing like lightning rods, and he watched in horror as they flamed with rows and rows of now-ignited exploding tags.
He would have dodged backwards, but he could feel the third man in his blindspot, and knew his sword would be papered like the others. There was no time. He'd played right into their hand by using his favoured element. By not realising this enemy was unafraid to die themselves, if it meant killing him in the process.
Someone tackled him from behind, and he suddenly found himself on his hands and knees in the mud. A split second later there was a sharp whine and the swords exploded into shards of razor steel. He waited for the concussive blast, the fire, the pain, but someone was holding his head down. There was a body curled over his, protecting him from the worst of it.
When his ears stopped ringing, he opened his eyes and tested his ability to move. The person on top of him was still weighing him down, but his gentle push met no resistance, and they rolled away to the side.
It was Tanuki. Her body had been slashed to ribbons from shrapnel and then burned from the explosion of fire and electricity, creating a sickening sight. Her raccoon-dog mask was cracked almost perfectly in half; the culprit, a jagged piece of metal that looked like the entire tip of one of the enemy swords, was still embedded in her throat.
The pieces of mask slid away to reveal her face, and Kakashi gave a startled cry.
"No, no, no, no, no…" he gathered the girl in his arms, mind reeling. How could it be her?
She looked at him with her wide, green eyes, and then convulsed so violently he almost dropped her. Her whole body was jerking and warping, the short and stocky body turning longer and leaner. Becoming her body.
"Sakura," he whispered, running a hand over her face. It had been her all along. Her, telling him to stay in position, to stay safe so that she could protect him. Her, that he had killed with his carelessness.
She raised bloody fingers to the sword tip in her throat, slipping and struggling against the metal. Blood bubbled from the wound as she struggled to breathe.
"No, you'll just bleed out faster," he told her, even though it was hopeless anyway. "You have to leave it in." And then what?
She gave him such a look, such a classically Sakura look, and kept at it, that he gave in to her and helped tug the blade free from her neck. A gout of blood splashed his face, and he quickly pressed a hand over the hole left behind.
Sakura's forehead seal turned black and spread along her body like the warning stripes of a dangerous animal. But he didn't remove his hands from her, didn't stop watching her for any sign that things were getting worse. Yes, he had seen her get impaled by Madara, and jump into the fires of Amaterasu, and she had walked away both times. But he'd seen neck wounds and bomb blasts a hundred times more than that, and it never ended happily. He refused to let himself hope that he hadn't killed her, not until she told him herself.
The sounds of fighting began, eventually, to quieten. The remaining enemies disappeared as swiftly as they had come, which would have confounded Kakashi if he had any attention to give to the matter. Sakura's healing was slow by her standards, and hard-going. Her neck wound had to take priority, and the second the bleeding stopped she appeared to shift her focus away to the myriad other injuries that criss-crossed her body. He couldn't imagine what kind of pain she was in, but her expression remained stoic throughout.
Eventually skin knit closed and burns healed over with pinkish new skin. There were even a few Lichtenberg figures (a side-effect of electrocution) that faded to nothing before his eyes.
"How do you feel?" He asked, when finally she was in one, non-bleeding, piece, and the black lines had retracted to her seal.
She sat up gingerly, gazing past him. It had only taken about ten minutes for her to heal herself (which was still far longer than Thousand Healings should have taken), but the guards had managed a decent amount of cleanup in that time. The horses were all recaptured and refastened to their wagons, which had been dug out of the mud and moved further along to where the road hadn't been churned up too badly.
Turtle had come by at one point to check in on Kakashi's wellbeing (he'd tried to wave him off, but Sakura had tried to rasp some sort of rebuke at him with her newly-built throat, and he'd submitted to a quick once-over for the sake of keeping her quiet). Nobody else had bothered him, and he only now realised that this did not mean people were ignoring him. One person in particular was watching him quite closely, in fact.
The enemy must have nicked Hiro's arm because he was getting it bandaged by a private doctor from his entourage. When he wasn't snapping complaints at the other man, he was staring openly at Kakashi and the girl in his arms. It was difficult to discern anything about his thoughts other than interest, but that was enough to make Kakashi nervous.
"Can you walk?" he asked Sakura.
She opened her mouth to speak, but could only manage a soft wheeze.
"You still can't talk?"
She shook her head, but gave him a reassuring smile. She tapped her left wrist as if checking an imaginary watch.
"Needs more time to heal?"
She nodded, and traced the tips of her index fingers from her forehead seal to the base of her jaw, mimicking the path of her black markings. Then she appeared to hesitate, as if casting about for the appropriate sign for what she wanted to communicate. Eventually she pressed her palms together and pillowed her head against it in the universal symbol for "sleep."
"Using your seal makes you tired?" he guessed, and she waggled her hand in a "more or less" gesture.
Gently extricating herself from his arms, she pushed to her feet and began walking toward the convoy. Her steps were a little wobbly (one of her knees had been dislocated just minutes prior), but she managed well enough. Others had certainly fared worse in the fight. Two of the smaller carts had been repurposed for the injured and dead, and Kakashi felt a fresh twinge of guilt for not thinking of them sooner.
There were still a few hours left until the next designated campsite, but the security teams had decided it was better to just pull the heavier caravans off to the side and have everyone camp there on the road. Scouts were already reporting back that the enemies had completely left the area, and all 4 shifts of guards would be staying up on watch that night.
They reached Kakashi's caravan, and he grabbed Sakura's elbow as gently as possible to make her stop. She guarded him during the day and slept on a bedroll under the smaller wagons at night, but that arrangement was currently unthinkable.
"You're sleeping in my caravan tonight," he told her. It wasn't a suggestion.
She tried to protest non-verbally, shaking her head and making to move past him to the smaller wagons, but he just picked her up and hopped aboard. She was too weak to really fight it, and he was too weak to let her out of his sight.
Other than a few items being knocked around, his tiny mock-apartment had fared quite well. It consisted of a plush armchair (currently pushed close to the desk affixed to the wall), a tiny kitchenette (in case he wanted to make himself a cup of tea without leaving the luxury of his room) and a modest single bed (currently hidden behind a curtain). Not bad, considering most of the others were sleeping on the ground.
Sakura took in his fancy, clean VIP apartment, and then looked down at herself. She was caked in so much mud and blood that the state of her clothes was of secondary interest, but now that Kakashi was looking properly he could tell her modesty was hanging by an almost-literal thread.
No matter; soldiers like them ranked ideas like "modesty" significantly lower than civilians anyway. But everything about the girl's appearance was distressing to look at, and all-too similar to the day he'd pulled her from a river.
"There are some spare clothes in the drawer under the bed." He gestured to the curtained area. "There's also a rainwater basin and a few towels in there that you can use to clean up."
She obeyed, pulling the curtains closed behind her. Kakashi almost fell into the armchair, pressing his hands against his face like a child hiding from monsters. They came back tacky with blood.
"Ugh," he said reflexively; one of many signs that he was growing soft. He wiped his hands on his shirt.
A few minutes later, Sakura re-emerged. Her hair was wet, the patch of silver in her fringe a steely grey in a sea of dark pink. She wore one of his sweaters, raising her arms to show how her hands were lost in the too-long sleeves. Under different circumstances he would have found it unbearably cute.
"My clothes are still a bit big on you, huh."
She nodded, then disappeared back into the bedding area. There was a gentle splash from the basin, then she returned and pressed a fresh wet towel into his hands.
"Thanks," he said, removing his mask and scrubbing the mess from his face. The towel was instantly soiled beyond salvation. He shuddered to think what the one Sakura used now looked like.
Sakura watched him intently, and he'd known her long enough to guess why.
"If you're checking me for injuries, I have three superficial cuts on my arms, one on my leg and a superficial burn on my lower back. Nothing that requires immediate attention, and certainly nothing requiring you to use any more chakra. That's an order, and if you disobey it you'll wish you'd never come back to Konoha."
She blinked at him, the picture of innocent surprise at the accusation. He wanted to shake her. "What the hell were you thinking? Why did you do that just to save me?"
Her expression shifted into genuine surprise, and she pointed at the white and red hat hanging in the corner like he was stupid.
"Just because I'm the Hokage doesn't mean my life means more than yours." He was so sick of death. Why had he ever missed active combat?
Sakura just smiled sadly, and he knew he'd never convince her to stop protecting her loved ones with everything she had. He had trained her too well.
"Tomorrow, when you have your voice back, you and I are going to have a proper talk. But for now," he gestured to the bed, "get some rest. You're dead on your feet." Terrible choice of words.
Sakura glanced between him and the bed with a quizzical look. "I'll sleep in the armchair," he explained. "It wouldn't be the first time. Now go on; I'm not going to leave the caravan without you, if that's what you're worried about."
She grabbed his sleeve and tugged it closer to her and the sleeping area, and for a heady moment Kakashi thought she was inviting him to share the bed. But he saw the bloodied hole in the sleeve that she was tugging at, and realised she was offering him the chance to change his own clothes first.
Sakura waited outside politely while he changed, and then practically belly-flopped into the little bed. Within seconds her eyes had closed and her breathing had evened out. Kakashi could hardly blame her; medical jutsu was tiring at the best of times, but Thousand Healings was one of the most taxing of all. It even, he knew, permanently reduced the user's lifespan. And she'd used it to protect him.
He reached out to her without thinking, stopping himself just inches from her silver hairs. "Careless," he chided himself softly. She wasn't his to touch.
He slept fitfully in the armchair, using his white robe as a makeshift blanket. Dreams chased themselves around his head: His father, smiling sadly, driving a tanto into his gut. The soft thump as his body hit the tatami mat of their living room. Obito, young Obito, grinning in his carefree way, even as his body was crushed under a rockslide. The grin freezing on his eyeless face. Rin, her hands cold as she grasped his own face close to hers (in condemnation or forgiveness? Kakashi never knew). Bright arcs of his chidori in her chest. Her eyes going dull, her knees buckling. Minato and Kushina, his only parental figures after his father died. The talon of the Nine Tails spearing them both. He wasn't even there for that one, but he saw it just as vividly as the others. Saw the blood flecking their mouths as they smiled at a newborn baby. Saw the light leave their eyes forever.
And then there was Sakura, back in her army fatigues, silently mouthing the words "I'll be the distraction." She smiled at him, and he tried to look away. But the dream forced him to watch as a spear of black metal was driven through her body, stopping her short. The bile rose in his throat at the sound of her body hitting the ground, Madara discarding it like trash. But then…she got up. And smiled again, heedless of the black fire hurtling toward her. A column of black flame engulfed her body and she thrashed, screaming without air, burning, burning. And then she was up again, smiling again. Her lips parted and river water gushed forth in a stream. She convulsed, coughing into her hands before falling down limp. And then she got up, just in time to step into an explosion. Her short hair whipped around her head, turned purplish by fire and lightning. Shards of metal like stars orbited her once, twice, and then struck her body all over. She fell to the floor in a puddle of blood, body broken and throat slashed open. And then…
She got up.