Amaryllis
Chapter 10
"GENERAL! GENERAL, I WAS WRONG! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!" the soldier sobbed into the dirt. His wrists were bound together and stretched in front of him. Kneeling in the dirt with his forehead pressed to the ground, he wept pitifully. They were the tears of a boy, mixing into mud on his face.
His comrades had been too shocked to react before the sword descended. He had it the worst. He knew what was coming. And he screamed his pleas for mercy without shame.
Then again, what was the point of shame in the face of death?
A crowd had gathered in the square. Some held handkerchiefs to their mouths. Others clutched each other. But no one's eyes turned away as Sakura lifted the executioner's blade. Heavier than the average sword.
"General. Please," whispered Kiba as he took a step toward her. Shikamaru stood a ways off, hands in his pockets as he refused to have anything to do with the grisly affair. The pool of blood gathering under one of the executed men began to spread, making its way toward the toe of her scuffed boot. Shino stepped forward, mouth hard as he approached. Kiba and Sakura stared at him, waiting for his words to fall.
Shino raised his right foot and placed it on the soldier's back. With one shove, he mashed the soldier's face into the ground, muffling his screams.
"General, please," said Shino. He mirrored Kiba's words but meant the opposite.
Sakura wiped her blade clean against her thigh, staining her white pants a deep red that was almost black. Eyes hardening, she raised her sword high. When it lowered, there was a sickening thud and the muffled shouting came to an end.
Sakura's eyes flew open. They were already wet. She rolled onto the other side of the bed that wasn't damp with sweat. And though she tried to squeeze her eyes shut and sleep again, the image of her sword slicing through tender necks was burned into the insides of her eyelids.
She wanted to call for Shizune. So that the older woman would tell her that everything would be alright. But Shizune was tired after a long day's work. That wouldn't be fair to her. Sakura struggled, in her sleep-addled mind, to remember what to do, then.
Sometimes, on nights like these, Sasori showed up like a miracle, as if he could read her mind. But, Sakura reluctantly remembered, that her cousin was not, in fact, telepathic. He was simply extraordinarily attentive and lucky. And the empty creak of her apartment made it clear that tonight was not such a lucky night.
No, on the nights when Sasori slept peacefully in his bed and the night seemed too calm to disturb with her ugly flashes of memory, Sakura slipped from her bed and its silken sheets. She went out, dressed only in her nightgown and a light robe tied over it.
Feet bare and face empty, she ran to the stables where all the horses slumbered with their heads down. At her approach, Kaze's ears twitched. She whispered his name. The one she had given to him when he had just barely learned to stand. His silvery head appeared over the top of the door, his dark eyes already searching for her.
She opened up the door to his stall and Kaze waited for her to gather the saddle and the reins. But she slipped inside and mounted him bareback.
It had been a long time since she had done so.
Her bare thighs rested on his back. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around Kaze's neck and closed her eyes.
"Just go. Anywhere," she whispered into his ear. Kaze hesitated for only an instant before he snorted and took off. Eyes drying, Sakura lay against the stallion's neck and silently felt the wind whip over the back of her neck and over her legs. She could hear the crash of ocean waves and smell the salt in the air. And as she listened to the hard clatter of his gallop quiet, she knew that they were now running along the beach. The soft sand sprayed against the bottoms of her feet.
Kaze ran long laps up and down the shore. His breaths were steady huffs as he dutifully went back and forth. He could feel her distress in her strained voice, in the tightness of her muscles and the way she clung so tightly to him. When he tossed his head, she responded by patting his neck
Eventually, Kaze stopped running, he stood in the sand. And Sakura stayed motionless on his back, finally having fallen asleep. Kaze stayed that way until dawn, occasionally pacing over and bending his head to graze on tiny tufts of grass. When he let out a wheeze and gently shook her awake with a toss of his head, the sun was climbing over the horizon.
"I had another dream, Kaze," she murmured on the edge of waking up. Kaze made a noise that sounded inquisitive to her.
"I can't remember what it was about. But I think it was a happy dream," she sighed.
That was a partial lie. She knew that she had dreamt of happier times- of days running from private tutors and of nights spent staring up at stars and being amazed that her mother seemed to know the names and the shapes of all the stars and constellations.
Sakura watched the sun rising over the east side of the island before she gently urged Kaze forward with a click of her tongue.
She returned home, where Shizune, finding her bed empty, had roused the servants and guards in a flustered search for her. But Kaze rode up slowly and everyone saw the droop of Sakura's shoulders and her tangle of hair. Questions died on lips. It had been another sleepless night for Her Grace.
As everyone kept his or her distance, only Shizune stepped forward. And after a moment, Haku pushed his way out of the cluster of kitchen girls. Together they pulled Sakura off of the horse's back and sent the steed off with one of the stable hands.
"Perhaps a bath and then some tea, My Lady?" suggested Shizune in a warm voice. Haku stood holding Sakura's hand, unsure of whether to help her move or to simply stand there. But Sakura's distant gaze slowly focused, as if she was just then returning from a long journey. And then she squeezed his hand in return.
"Perhaps," Sakura agreed. She pulled her fingers through her hair. Winced as they caught.
It was like watching dye seep into silk. The transformation was quiet yet swift.
Her back straightened. Her mouth quirked into a half-smile. And she quickly returned to the pillar of composure that everyone remembered.
The sadness lingered in her eyes, softening her gaze as she glanced down at Haku.
"Shall we go?" she suggested.
"… Yes, Your Grace," Haku answered, finding a smile for her.
Two weeks after Sakura returned home to Plumeria, Gaara stood, staring at her apartment from afar. It was early in the morning and he had just finished his breakfast with Temari and Kankuro. The weight of fresh fruits and tea in his stomach did little to settle the knot of worry twisting around.
It didn't seem like it, but Gaara knew, generally, where Sakura was at any given time.
She rose at sunrise, rode her horse along the beach for about an hour, washed and had breakfast, and then usually sat in her throne room to see to the day's questions and complaints from her people. There was lunch in one of the pavilions, sometimes a late morning swim before, and then she headed into the market or spent the afternoon meeting with officials and advisors. At night, her schedule was much less rigid. It was a bit harder to find her then. And even then, he usually knew where to begin his search.
There were some days where breakfast ran long as she lingered over tea with Sasori or when an urgent messenger cut her morning ride short. But in general, Sakura's time as a soldier bled into her everyday schedule. It was all about order.
However, ever since coming home, Sakura had not come to reclaim her place in the throne room once. Gaara waited each morning for her to walk in and seat herself in the high-backed chair as if she had never left it in the first place. But she did not appear and only then, with reluctance, did Gaara seat himself.
Gaara jolted out of his thoughts when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.
"She will return when she's ready," Kankuro assured him, shaking his younger brother a little. Gaara let out a sigh.
"I wish she would tell us what was wrong. She only ever tells Sasori everything," lamented Gaara.
"To be fair, little brother, I don't think even Sasori knows everything. Lady Sakura tells him the most, I think. But probably not everything," replied Kankuro. They both turned as they heard another set of footsteps join them. Gaara gave a small smile to his sister who ruffled his hair in return.
"Does she not trust us? Have we done something to prove unworthy?" wondered Gaara with guilt in his voice. But Temari's own smile faded as she shook her head.
"I just think Lady Sakura prefers not to make herself vulnerable. Think of how lonely an existence that must be, not to trust the people around you. Even her own family has stabbed her in the back," Temari said. And all three siblings knew that she was not referring to their side of the family tree.
"I think," added Temari in a softer voice, "that Lady Sakura's wounds run deeper than anyone else's. Once you've been scarred like that, I think it's difficult to ever know who to trust again."
A contemplative silence settled over them after that. Letting out a long sigh, Kankuro clapped Gaara on the shoulder once more before he released him. He gave a parting salute to Temari before he walked off with his hands crossed behind him. Further down the walkway, they spotted a man in tan robes waiting for him. Gaara's eyes met the man's and he quickly turned away, cheeks flushing red with what he couldn't decide was either shame or anger.
"Go talk to her, little brother. Lady Sakura has always had a soft spot for you," Temari advised him before she too parted with him.
Gaara stood thinking for another moment before he let out a sigh and decided to head for the duchess' apartment.
It was around the time that she would be finishing her breakfast. It was the least bothersome time to interrupt her.
As Gaara rounded the bend in the path, he began to hear her voice. It was a familiar sound. Sometimes it was soft. Other times she barked orders with the strength of a soldier. And the soft flow of her anger was the most frightening of all- like magma slowly encroaching down the face of a mountain. They were all ranges of Lady Sakura's voice and Gaara had grown to regard them all with an equal measure of relief and fear.
But this laughter was something new to him. There was a softer lilt to it, an undercurrent of something that Gaara couldn't recognize. And as he drew closer and saw past the other buildings in the palace, he understood why.
"I don't suppose any of your books can answer that question," teased Sakura.
"Fascinating. It really does taste like a berry," Itachi responded.
"There are other varieties on the island. I can have some brought over for you to sample," Sakura went on. As she lifted her cup to her lips, Itachi scribbled a few notes in his journal.
"I remember once, when I was a child, my cousin Shisui snuck down to the market. A merchant there claimed to be selling pearls from the ocean. So Shisui bought one to show me. Imagine our surprise when we dropped it in water and it disappeared," Itachi recalled.
Sakura laughed. "Sugar?" she guessed.
"Sugar," he confirmed with a grim expression. "It was the most delicious disappointment I've ever experienced." And his expression was so downcast that Sakura couldn't help but laugh even harder. Itachi chuckled too.
In the midst of this, Gaara slowly approached. Unsure of when or how to insert himself into the conversation without being rude. Sakura caught sight of him as she tilted her head to the side.
"Ah, Gaara, have you eaten yet?" she called, beckoning him over.
A small boat sat tied to one of the posts of the walkway. Gaara slipped the rope free. As he stepped into the boat, he pushed off with his other foot. The momentum alone was enough to push him in the direction of the Lily Garden. It only took a minute for his boat to reach the pavilion.
Gaara wrapped the rope around one of the posts before he stepped into the gazebo. He hesitated as he looked around. At the low table. At the half-eaten meal spread across the table. Sakura pulled him down next to her into the soft clutter of rugs and cushions.
"I've already had breakfast, Your Grace," Gaara gave a feeble attempt at protest.
"Well, you need to eat again. A strong gust of wind would carry you off at this rate," she ordered. She pushed a plate of fruit and pastries toward him.
"I… yes, Your Grace," sighed Gaara. He picked up one of the golden-brown pastries. It glistened with globs of honey. Sakura watched him eating, her fist tucked under her chin. When he glanced at her, she just smiled.
As he ate, Gaara noticed Sakura's gaze shift. He followed her line of sight. Saw that she was smiling at Prince Itachi. Only, the expression was different now. Somehow embarrassed, Gaara averted his gaze and swallowed down the rest of his food.
"So, little cousin, what ails you to make such a sour face on such a fine day?" queried Sakura, Wiping crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, Gaara stole another look at her. She was in a blouse and military breeches but the top buttons of her shirt were left open to reveal the thin gold chains draping across her collarbones. When she reached for him, the bangles on her wrist jingled together. She brushed aside a crumb he had missed.
"There is the matter of your spot being empty, still, Lady Sakura," Gaara admitted after some hesitation. Sakura's hand fell to her side.
"It's not. You're there, aren't you?" she pointed out.
Gaara's forehead wrinkled. "I mean, yes, I am. But… it's… you're the duchess."
"And you're the duchess' proxy," replied Sakura. Now it was her turn to sigh. "Although, you're right. I'm losing my grasp on one throne. No sense in losing this one too."
Gaara's expression soured.
"I would die before I let that happen," he declared.
Sakura studied his expression. Just for a moment. And then she touched the back of her hand to his chin. "I know," she said after a long moment.
Gaara grasped her forearms. He kissed her cheek. Laughing, Sakura reciprocated the gesture. And then Gaara bowed to Itachi before he got to his feet.
Itachi followed Gaara with his eyes. Sakura gazed after him too, her chin in her palm.
"I'd like to ask you something," Itachi told her after a while. Long after Gaara had disappeared. Long after the tea had disappeared from their cups.
"Yes?"
"I know by now that you get along extraordinarily well with this half your family. But you seem to be particularly fond of your placeholder," Itachi noted. That wasn't a question in itself, but Sakura could guess what he meant. Sakura let out a heavy sigh while running a hand through her hair.
"His father is my chamberlain. Handles all the finance. And he does his job faultlessly. It's just that he's an awful human being who beats his son," Sakura finally confessed.
Itachi grimaced. "All his children?"
Crossing her legs, Sakura shook her head.
"Just Gaara. And he's done a good job of hiding it. I only learned of it within the last few years," she stated.
Her upper lip curled as she recalled the purple splotch on Gaara's arm. She hadn't been meant to see it. And Gaara had pulled his sleeve down too late. She had never been good with sweet words of sympathy. But when she sat next to him. Holding his hand, not looking at him. She felt Gaara's tears begin to drip onto her hand and wrist.
"I'm not criticizing your judgment but why do you keep such a vicious man in your inner circle?" queried Itachi. At this, Sakura's mouth smiled. But there was decided viciousness to the pull of her lips.
"Because of how long ago our branch of the Haruno family departed from the Arids, the elders worry that our noble blood will grow thin. So they have us take spouses from the desert. Sasori's father was a noble scholar. And Lord Rasa is the son of a prince. My grandmother was taken from the Arids as well," explained Sakura. She tapped her finger against the table. "In some ways, they are like ambassadors. Immune to certain… chastisement on our end. And they continue to update the family about affairs here."
Itachi tilted his head, mouth opening. And then he closed his mouth.
Sakura raised her eyebrows at him.
"Well… I don't want to insult your family…" Itachi hedged.
Sakura motioned for him to continue. "Please. I don't usually get honest commentary."
Itachi leaned in a little toward her. Sakura copied him, turning her ear toward him.
"That sounds like spying."
Sakura blinked. "Oh, it is."
And then it was her turn to look worried. "Does your family not do that?"
"They don't," Itachi replied.
Sakura arched an eyebrow. She shook her head a little. "They do. You just think they don't," she corrected him.
She knew why her family was the way it was. Their legacy was practically written in blood. A little cruelty on the part of a father was excusable as long as he was useful. Rasa was a master of money. He taxed the people fairly and never manipulated the ledgers. The family had never once been in debt since his appointment.
Sakura leaned back on her hands.
"You have another question," she guessed, watching the twist of Itachi's lips.
"Still… you kept him for years?"
Sakura took a deep breath through her nose. Exhaled through her mouth. And then she closed her eyes. "Until you know how to eliminate an enemy, it's best to keep him in your sights. He won't be around for much longer," she replied.
She missed the way a visible shiver ran through Itachi. And when she opened her eyes again, there was the sharpness in her eyes that he recognized from those endless balls in Goliaf. Where words were knives and the sun didn't shine so warmly.
Itachi opened his mouth to apologize. Without really understanding why.
"There's no need," she interrupted him before he could get the words out. "What have you done wrong to have to apologize, Your Highness?"
Eyebrows pinching together, he tilted his head. "I hurt your feelings."
Sakura tilted her head, copying him. "Did you?"
Several days later, Sakura sat in the throne room as she rubbed her temples with her fingers. Her mind continued to drift to the message she had received from Neji earlier that day. It had been sent in a plain brown envelope- ideal for escaping notice. But the message inside had been far from unremarkable, and the knowledge held within had gnawed at her gut for quite some time.
"And?" she prompted in a tired voice.
The soldier standing before her didn't meet her eyes. Sakura didn't blame him. It wasn't his fault that he had been chosen to deliver the bad news.
"Eventually two patrons of the pub were injured in the altercation before we managed to subdue him. He's being held in the broom closet there… awaiting your judgment, General," the man concluded.
"Guzzling down pints of ale, assaulting one of the bar maids, and then injuring two other people? Sounds like your men could use some more discipline, darling," commented Sasori with a smirk. Sakura ignored him and gave a nod when she heard Temari's fist connect with the top of his head in the background.
Sakura mulled over this report for a long time before she blew out a long breath.
"Bring him to me," she ordered. There was a brief moment of hesitation before the soldier bowed his head and marched from the room to fulfill her order.
"What are you planning to do? A public lashing sounds fair to me," scoffed Temari. She had little patience for the lechery of men. But Sakura didn't respond to her. In fact, only when the soldier returned several minutes later with his squinting companion did Sakura speak again. Both soldiers dropped to one knee, fists over their hearts as they awaited her verdict.
You are the one causing all this trouble, I assume." Her voice snapped, cold and precise.
"Yes, General." His throat bobbed, like he might burst into tears at any moment.
Sakura considered him for a long moment. Then she leaned back in her throne.
"You understand the rules of conduct. Your actions reflect on not just me but also on your fellow soldiers. You will be suspended for a period of 30 days," Sakura declared. Her tone left no room for argument.
"And…my pay?" the soldier dared to ask in a trembling voice.
"Your pay for the next month will be going to the owner of the pub you inconvenienced and to the medical expenses of the people you assaulted," Sakura said in return. There was such iron in her tone that even the blameless soldier who had simply reported the misconduct did not dare to raise his head.
Sakura sighed again.
"That being said, I understand that grief will drive a man to drink and to seek comfort in the wrong places. Use this as a time to reflect. Second chances do not come to everyone," she added. Before he could open his mouth to ask anything else, Sakura dismissed them. She sat watching their heavy-footed retreat until Gaara lightly touched her shoulder.
"That, I believe, is all for today, Your Grace," he whispered in her ear. And then, with another look around, Gaara spoke again.
"And I don't wish to alarm you, but you have some visitors," Gaara reported.
Sakura didn't even bother to ask "who". She motioned for the next people to be brought in and the heavy echo of marching boots answered her.
"Ah. I was wondering when you would show your faces around here again. Can I assume that you've left Nara in charge?" inquired Sakura as the two decorated soldiers marched in and dropped to one knee before her. But as they straightened, Sakura smiled at them.
"Please, don't make a scene. You must be hungry," said Sakura as she stood.
The group switched locations to the Lily Garden. Temari sat in one of the archways, her back up against the wooden frame and her spear held securely between her knees. Gaara sat in the piles of cushions near Sakura's feet, silent but his eyes following Sakura's every movement. Without hesitation, Shino and Kiba sat on either side of her. Kiba tossed his sheathed sword aside and it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter that made Gaara flinch. Before they could open up conversation, a little servant girl with bare feet pattered in and rose on her tiptoes to whisper in Sakura's ear.
"I have guests, but they're more than welcome to join us," Sakura replied. The girl ran off. Shino raised an eyebrow as he watched her.
"Is that wise, General?" he questioned.
It wasn't long before the two princes entered the room. Shino and Kiba exchanged looks as Sakura uncrossed her arms.
"Did you really ask if I had time to waste?" Sakura repeated the servant girl's words.
"We hardly discuss business. I'd call it a waste of time," Sasuke retorted.
"Dreadful. At least have the decency to call it 'diplomacy'," Sakura sighed.
And then Sakura gestured toward the two princes.
"This is Prince Itachi and Prince Sasuke of the Mountain Kingdom. They are here as my guests for the season," added Sakura. Shino and Kiba bowed in greeting. Kiba, in particular, set his face. He had watched the easy exchange with a steadily darkening expression.
"General, our conversation…" Kiba murmured, leaning closer to her.
Sakura pushed him away by the shoulder. "Later. We should eat first," she replied. And then she added, "And even if we were to have this talk here, all is well."
"Even if we were in an alliance with the Mountain Kingdom, I still wouldn't talk so boldly of our security matters in front of its princes," scoffed Kiba.
"Is there an alliance in the making?" Shino questioned with a scrutinizing gaze fixating on Sasuke.
Sakura and Sasuke looked disgusted at the thought.
"Absolutely not."
"Respectfully, no."
But then Shino's eyes moved to examine the other Uchiha prince and Sakura cleared her throat before he could think too hard.
"Even without a marriage, King Fugaku has proposed a partnership between our isle and the Mountain Kingdom. He expressed interest in our tea and I did make some inquiries into his iron," Sakura declared. Her eyes were surprisingly soft as they fell on Kiba.
"I always encourage you to question me. It does not do for one person to have too much power. But in this case, be assured, Inuzuka, I know what I am doing," she said.
Kiba stared her in the eyes, searching for a long time before he acquiesced and bowed his head to defer to her judgment.
They enjoyed a light lunch. Countess Inuzuka had taught her son well. Kiba had no shortage of things to discuss with the two visiting princes. Shino, as usual, contributed little to the conversation. But Sakura knew that she could ask him later and he would recall the conversation in perfect detail.
With a look from Sakura, Gaara offered to take the princes down to the bazaar after the meal.
"If you go on the right day, you can watch the jeweler work," he suggested. Sakura hid her approving smile behind her teacup.
Only after they excused themselves did Sakura broach the topic.
"Colonel Hyuuga warned me that I would be upset. He pleaded with me not to take it out on you two," she said.
Shino cracked a smirk at that.
Kiba laughed too. He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. And then that laugh faded. He touched his hand to his brow.
"Well, General. The southern border," he began.
Sakura clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
"Attacks are growing more frequent. And more violent. One merchant was cut to ribbons. Another was nailed to a tree," Kiba listed.
"The Regent's response?" she prompted.
"Send more money," Shino replied.
"They also want you to send troops down to address the matter. My mother pushed back on the matter and insisted they seek your permission first," added Kiba.
Sakura tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. "Knowing that old snake, Danzo Shimura would send an entire army to slaughter them all. But that would leave other areas vulnerable to attack," she mused.
"Inside and out," she then added. The other two nodded.
"We could send a smaller platoon," suggested Kiba.
"No. They would be annihilated. And it would shame the entire kingdom," Sakura said, shaking her head.
"It has to be you," Shino stated.
Sakura and Kiba both lifted their heads to stare at him.
But then the expression on Kiba's face changed. He turned his gaze to Sakura. "It does have to be you, General," he agreed.
Sakura sighed. Touching her fingers to her temple, she nodded. "Very well. I will consider it."
She had servants see the two Lieutenant Generals to their rooms. It had been a long journey just to get here. She wouldn't send them back without some rest, although she knew Shino was probably itching to get home already.
Sakura shed her jacket and her boots. She dove off the edge of the room.
She sliced into the waves at an angle. The splash did not bewilder the passing servants, who barely glanced to see the ripples already dissipating. Sakura was nowhere to be seen. Temari gave a disinterested glance in the direction of the noise. She got to her feet to go find her youngest brother.
Meanwhile, Sakura twisted to float on her back underneath the Lily Garden, listened to the footsteps with vague irritation. It was a directionless, pointless sort of frustration, and that bothered her all the more. She drifted, feeling the tides pull her back and forth before she abruptly decided that afternoon that she didn't much feel like drinking tea or lounging around in the water or even like meeting with her advisors.
Flipping onto her stomach, Sakura dove down into the clear waters. She moved in powerful strokes in the direction of the back of the palace. With one strong pull, she lifted herself up onto the edge of the walkway and waited until a group of servant girls carrying clean laundry baskets passed. They all paused to bow and Sakura left them with a message for Temari about her general whereabouts before she dove back into the water with barely a splash.
Sakura did a few lazy laps around the area before she made her way into the heart of the royal apartments. And in one of the pavilions shrouded by vines and flowers, Sakura saw a head of curling black hair bent over a book. Without announcing her presence, she grabbed hold of one of the thick beams supporting the walkway and climbed up until she could reach the smooth wooden walkway. Water cascaded noisily down from her body as she hauled herself up.
It took a minute for her to catch her breath and wring most of the water out of her long hair. Still in her drenched clothes, Sakura entered the round space. Like most of the other rooms in the palace, this one had no walls at all. Instead, there were thick wooden posts at equal intervals that held up the beams above. The wooden floors were the color of damp sand against the blue of the lapping waves.
Sakura sat on an empty stretch of floor and leaned back in the cool shade. The crisscrossing pattern of the gazebo roof by itself wouldn't provide much cover from the sun but the thick vines growing over it did and so what light leaked in from above was dappling and it shivered as the wind moved the leaves. Letting out a loud sigh, Sakura let her head loll over the edge of the pavilion. The tips of her long hair dipped under the surface of the water. The tide was beginning to recede.
"You seem troubled," Kurenai finally said as she closed her book.
"Troubled would be a mild word to describe it, Aunt Kurenai," sighed Sakura in return.
"Troubled would be a mild word to describe your life in general, dear. What, in particular, troubles you this time?" Kurenai quipped.
Her eyes were such a light shade of brown that they were nearly red. And they were as gentle as they had always been, despite the few lines that had formed underneath them and at the corners. Sakura couldn't help but let out at least a faint smile.
"Liars and fools at every turn and bend trouble me," admitted Sakura.
"It's interesting that you lump those two together," said Kurenai.
"They're equally unforgivable," Sakura responded without remorse.
"Do liars and fools include your handsome guests? I don't believe I've had the chance to greet them yet," the older woman went on to ask.
"You would have met them had you come to that feast when we first arrived," Sakura reminded her. She picked a stray grain of sand out from under her nail before rolling onto her stomach. Her blouse was completely soaked and see-through. The light blue of her bandeau underneath peeked through, along with the strings of golden chains hanging from her neck. As she rolled her shirtsleeves up, Sakura felt Kurenai observing her.
"Yes, I do regret not attending," Kurenai agreed with her.
"Do you feel better now? Has Yashamaru been taking care of you?" Sakura pressed.
Kurenai smiled. She reached down to stroke Sakura's wet hair. "Yes, I'm quite alright now, love."
And then Kurenai's hand stilled. "My dear, I've heard people say that they have seen you enjoying the company of one of those dashing princes. Will you quash my hopes?" Kurenai broached the topic, as direct as always. And Sakura replied by shrugging her shoulders.
"The older one. He's frail and somewhat naïve. But he's also incredibly intelligent. And fun to tease," Sakura admitted.
"Are you pursuing him? I've never pushed you to marry, but if you've found someone…" Sakura heard the excitement in her aunt's voice and she chuckled.
"Maybe in time. But as of now, I'm a bit preoccupied with other matters. For example, I might leave for Whiteriver in a few days," she quickly dismissed the idea. The smile faded and instead Kurenai's expression sharpened.
"Whiteriver? Why would you return to that nest of vipers before you had to, darling?" questioned Kurenai. Her posture suddenly straightened, all serenity vanishing from her demeanor. People were often fooled by Kurenai. She was beautiful, elegant, soft-spoken- an ideal woman. Despite her age, men often fawned over her, trying desperately for a chance to gain her attention.
But Kurenai was also Tsunade's younger sister. And that sharpness of wit had run down to them from their mother. Her barbs were more than enough to send unwanted suitors fleeing. And though she was not the researcher that her sister had been, her acuity was nothing to be scoffed at.
"The southern border conflicts are escalating. It shouldn't take too long to handle. But it irritates me that I have to handle it at all," Sakura admitted. Kurenai raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you the one who has to deal with it then? Shouldn't one of your underlings be assigned to the task instead?" Kurenai wondered. Though Kurenai herself had no experience in the military, she knew enough to realize that delegation of tasks was a large part of what Sakura did. But Sakura shook her head.
"There are some things that seem little but are actually huge. For instance, the General of a country's armies personally riding out to address a small border conflict can be the difference between a war and a solid alliance. Or, it could mean the difference between a massacre and a victory," Sakura explained. Though Kurenai looked no less concerned, she nodded her approval.
"Diplomatic and fierce. Your mother and father would both be proud," declared Kurenai.
With a hard laugh, Sakura sat up. She carelessly tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it in a sopping heap to the side.
"If only the pride of the dead could touch us in real life," she scoffed as she ran her fingers through her hair. As she peeled her breeches off her wet legs, Kurenai tittered.
"It does, my dear. That is why we have dynasties," answered Kurenai.
Throwing her head back, Sakura laughed loudly at the thought. She never tired of her aunt's ability to play with words. Sakura turned to look at Kurenai.
"Have a nice swim. I'll always be here if you need to laugh again," Kurenai assured her.
"Thank you," Sakura replied. And then she dove off the edge of the gazebo. This time, her fall was at a perfect angle. She hardly made a splash. And she plunged deep into the warm waters.
A column of bubbles flew upwards as she exhaled. The world was painted in dazzling shades of blue. The push and pull of the tides rumbled above but Sakura drifted calmly beneath the waves. A school of silvery fish darted past, brushing against the side of her leg. Stretching her arms out in front of her, Sakura kicked off one of the wooden posts and pulled herself through the glittering water.
Security of her home had always been one of Sakura's top priorities. There was no shortage of people who coveted their lands and their power. The recent fuss at the border unsettled Sakura. She checked in with the palace guards, spoke to the servants, who knew the goings-on of the palace better than anyone else. All seemed well. Still, Sakura couldn't settle the unease that he settled in the pit of her stomach.
Sakura decided to oversee a set of soldiers practicing archery in the courtyard. She was greeted with salutes, straight lines and rows. Not a toe out of place. It was funny how easily she melted back into the role. It was even funnier how willing the others were to accept her that way.
She stood, hands behind her back, feet shoulder-width apart. Whenever her gaze fell on anyone, she could see his shoulders tense up with the weight. She walked between the rows, inspecting stances and equipment. They ran through the drill once. Sakura addressed a few postures. A soldier hurried over to hand her a bow and arrow of her own. Sakura pulled the string taught, demonstrating the proper angles of her arms and shoulders.
"Do you understand?" she demanded.
"Yes, General," the soldier replied.
"Look at me," Sakura instructed. Slowly, the man's eyes rose. Sakura almost smiled at him. "I don't bother those without potential. Try it again."
She took several steps book, out of the way of the arrows. As she leaned against a column, Sakura felt something touch her shoulder.
"You look tired. Tea?"
Sakura's posture didn't relax. As she tilted her head, she saw him standing there, sunlight shining off his dark hair. The clean lines of the silk vest and the soft shirt underneath suited him well.
"Itachi," she said. She noticed the way he still looked embarrassed whenever she called his name so easily. But he didn't try to stop her. He only held out the steaming cup to her.
"You, on the other hand, look very well," she responded as she accepted the drink. She took a sip. It was earthy and mellow. She took another sip.
"Perhaps it's the sea air. Or the medicines your physician has prescribed. I've certainly felt more invigorated," said Itachi. They regarded one another almost cautiously before Itachi was the first to give a tentative smile. Sakura couldn't help but return the expression warmly.
"Nock your arrows. Elbows up. And fire on my signal," the instructor called out in a clear voice. Seagulls called out overhead. Sakura could hear the giggles of servant girls doing laundry elsewhere in the palace. And then there was a collective snap as fingers released the ends of the arrows.
The arrows should have flown cleanly, toward the ceramic vases always used for target practice. The shards were then collected so that children of the orphanage could make mosaic crafts out of them. But Sakura could see how one arrow hit its mark off-center. And the perfect shatter of the vases into a clean pile suddenly became a haphazard ricochet of sharpened pottery flying outwards. She followed, almost in slow motion, as a collection of shattering vase flew in their direction.
Sakura threw herself in front of Itachi before she realized what she was doing. And as she pushed him aside, the teacup slipped from her fingers, breaking against the pavement.
As blood ran down the side of Sakura's arm, Itachi felt panic rise in his chest. Someone let out a shrill scream for help.
"Sak-" He began to call her name but he was easily drowned out by the sound of boots clomping down the walkway. Pushing past the other men, and even past Itachi without a second thought, Sasori ran forward, eyes already frantically searching for something to staunch the bleeding. And at the same time, Gaara and his siblings came running from the opposite direction, along with Sasuke. Sasori ripped the scarf from Kankuro's head and then yanked at the thin fabric of Sakura's blouse. The sleeve tore easily, allowing him access to her upper arm. He bound her cut in rough tugs, his eyes flaming.
"It was an accident," she sighed even though Sasori hadn't yet said anything.
"An accident," he tersely repeated. His lips barely moved.
"Please clean this up quickly," directed Shikamaru, touching the shoulder of the nearest servant. She nodded and began quickly gathering the shattered pieces of pottery with her apron. A few of her fellow workers knelt to aid her.
"The physician," Shino declared before he hurried off in a gait that was somehow simultaneously incredibly relaxed and incredibly urgent.
Sasuke stared at the chaotic scene. And then he took his brother by the arm, speaking to him in a low voice. Itachi responded, shaking his head. Sasuke looked relieved.
"Explain yourself," ordered Kiba. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"We were practicing aim. And the vase just- and the General," the dazed young man stuttered out. Letting out an exasperated noise, Kiba offered his hand to the soldier. Still only looking vaguely aware, the young man accepted the hand and pulled himself up.
"Calm down. I need you to tell me, in detail, just what happened," Kiba slowly said. They walked a little ways away to converse in low tones.
"What if this scars?" scolded Sasori, gingerly pressing his thumbs into the skin about the scarf wound around her upper arm. Despite the pain, Sakura kept a straight face.
"Then I will have another interesting story to tell," retorted Sakura. Shaking his head, Sasori leveled a glower at her.
"It was an archery exercise. This particular vase happened to shatter badly and one of the shards flew at me. It feels like a shallow cut. I will be fine," Sakura insisted. She decided against telling him about how she had gotten hurt covering for Itachi. Though her cousin bore no ill will toward the prince, Sakura doubted he would take the news well. Temari nudged Sasori with the handle of her spear.
"From Inuzuka's expression, it looks as if Lady Sakura is correct. I say we have Uncle take a look at her and then clean this up quickly. The girls don't handle blood well," murmured Temari with one casual glance at the nervous servants. Sasori nodded once.
Sakura sat. She held her arm up above her head in an attempt to minimize the bleeding. Her serenity only seemed to irritate Sasori further. He sighed and glared, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he waited.
When the physician arrived, Gaara made a hasty retreat. Itachi's head turned as he followed the abrupt departure. But then he met Sakura's eyes and realized that he wasn't imagining things. Then Sakura jerked her head in the direction of Gaara's back. Temari and Kankuro only hesitated slightly before they followed. Sasori hesitated a moment longer. When Sakura frowned at him, he went after his cousin too.
"My, my, things were so quiet when you weren't here, Your Grace," Yashamaru joked as he set his bag down on the table. He sighed helplessly when Sakura grasped a shattered piece of pottery and tried to pull it from the gash on her upper arm. When more blood dribbled out, Sasuke's face grew slightly green.
"Please, Your Grace," Yashamaru gave an impatient sigh, pushing her hand away.
"Would one of you please help me?" Yashamaru then requested as he dug in his bag.
Sasuke opened his mouth to volunteer but then he shook his head in jerky motions. It was Itachi that stepped forward instead. Yashamaru didn't even look at him as he put on his glasses.
"Please hold this dish," the physician instructed as he thrust a round metal dish into Itachi's hands. And then, with his forceps, Yashamaru began pulling out the shards of pottery from the cuts peppering Sakura's arm. Two of the bigger pieces had lodged into her skin. As he pulled the fragments covered in blood out, he dropped them into the dish.
Sasuke lingered, most likely to show his support. But eventually he averted his eyes from the blood and then lightly touched Sakura's elbow.
"My friend, my deepest apologies, but I must take my leave," he said.
Despite the pain, Sakura cracked a smile.
"Don't push yourself for my sake. Go. I will see you later," she answered. Nodding, Sasuke left as well.
With a final clink, the last piece of broken vase landed in the dish. Yashamaru then set about washing the cuts out with warm water before applying an ointment that smelled vaguely of roses. As he heated a needle, Yashamaru seemed to remember something.
"Prince Itachi." Yashamaru threaded the needle in one try.
"Um…Yes, Doctor," Itachi replied. He stood at Yashamaru's elbow, leaning in as watched the process. Sakura didn't flinch as Yashamaru grasped her upper arm and began stitching together the edges of one of the bigger wounds.
"How are you feeling, Your Highness?" the doctor queried, as if they were having a pleasant chat over tea.
"Quite well," answered Itachi.
"Excellent. I recommend that in about a week's time, as long as you continue to feel well enough, you should begin a light exercise regimen. Perhaps regular walks. Swimming would be best," Yashamaru suggested.
"The Prince can't swim, Yashamaru," Sakura interrupted. "Ispolin is landlocked." She let out a quiet hiss as the needle jabbed into her arm again. Itachi flinched too, his hand tightening into a fist. Sakura caught the movement. She laughed a little before it dissolved into a hiss again.
"He can learn, can't he, Your Grace?"
Yashamaru sealed up the rest of her bigger cuts in the same way before he covered everything in another ointment. This one had a much stronger smell, something faintly fermenting and bitter and the color of moss. He bandaged the upper arm completely.
Sakura looked up. She thought she caught the flicker of Gaara's hair as it disappeared around a corner. She heaved a sigh.
"How long are you going to keep up this charade?" she wondered.
"As long as I must. What good what it do to anger Lord Rasa? He might seem a yapping dog to you. He's a bull to me," Yashamaru pointed out. He held her forearm and had her wiggle each of her fingers.
"You practically raise the boy and then his father orders you not to coddle him. And so you convince him that you hate him. That's detestable," jabbed Sakura with a pointed look. Yashamaru's violet eyes narrowed.
"You vastly underestimate your chamberlain's capacity for cruelty. If childbirth had not taken my sister, I am positive that that awful man's temper would have," muttered Yashamaru darkly. When Yashamaru gave her a pointed look, Sakura tilted her chin.
"Be patient. A time will come when you will see him as a yapping dog as well," she urged him.
"How soon?"
"Have I ever disappointed you, Yashamaru?" was all she said in response.
Yashamaru's gaze flickered up to the prince. Then over to Sakura.
"Is it wise to discuss such things in front of such an esteemed guest?" he asked.
Sakura's gaze fell on Itachi too. "Yes."
Yashamaru said nothing else of the matter.
Conversation over afternoon tea trailed off when a small shadow began circling around and around. Sakura lifted her head and squinted against the sunlight until she saw the familiar shape of a bird with spread wings circling.
"A dove?" Gaara said out loud.
The bird swooped down. Sakura raised her nearly-healed arm and the bird landed, talons curling around her forearm. It let out a coo before allowing Sakura to untie the note on its leg. Then it spread its wings and took off into the air again before swooping off in the direction of the aviary where the other messenger birds roosted. After such a long journey, it was probably looking forward to some food and rest.
Sasori glanced at the seal in passing and let out an audible scoff.
"Again. Another invitation to tea time?" he mocked.
Unsmiling, Sakura pried the envelope open and pulled out the message inside. She already had an idea of the words that would be contained within.
Dear Sakura,
I hope earnestly that this letter finds you well. I would spare time for pleasantries but I'm afraid an urgent matter has arisen.
"Why? Did he trap himself in his bedchambers? Remind him to pull the door-not push, darling," Sasori interrupted.
As you know, the ancestors of the Uzumaki family were nobles from the former Wave Country. It was a small nation, dwarfed in comparison to the larger kingdoms surrounding it. After the fall of its monarchy, the people descended into chaos and now the land is ruled by roaming clans. Because of our family's ties-
"Our family?" repeated Kankuro with a clear note of disgust in his tone. But a look from Temari quieted him once more.
"Because of our family's ties of ancestry, our southwestern border with these clans has remained relatively free of conflict. The raids believed to be the work of bandits that have recently plagued the south are actually the product of these clans crossing the border. Though I, as the last head of my family, would prefer to meet with these raiders, my position does not allow me to leave the throne unoccupied. Therefore, I ask that you, along with my son, ride out to meet with these raiders. I trust that you will find a way to end this bloodshed."
The bottom of the letter was signed in looping script along with the seal of a familiar signet ring.
"How insulting." Temari was the first to speak after the end of the letter.
"This man does not seem to understand that his brother was, in fact, the consort and not the actual king," Kankuro agreed.
"My father was indeed the King Consort but he ruled alongside my mother. And, while I am most certainly a Haruno, I cannot deny that these are my father's kin," Sakura declared with some reluctance
"So you plan to ride out," Sasori guessed.
"I've been planning to ride out already. Even his urgent letters are late," remarked Sakura. It was true that the ship had already been loaded with supplies and it sat waiting in the harbor. Troops were already moving to meet them in the port city of Whitewave in a few week's time.
"With that fool? I'd sooner attempt to parley with bandits with a dancing monkey tied to my back," Kankuro snorted.
"I must. It's a formal request from the Regent," said Sakura with an air of finality. Handing the letter off to Sasori, Sakura put her hands on her hips.
"Gaara, my dear cousin," she then said, turning to the redhead. He was the only one who had not spoken during this entire time. He simply stood at her elbow, eyes alert as he took in everyone's words.
"I will entrust this island to you once again while I tend to this ugly business," Sakura stated. Gaara nodded.
"Surely you won't be moving alone…" Temari worried.
"As if Sasori would stay behind," Sakura scoffed. Sasori nodded. "And I'm sure that the Lieutenant Generals would be willing to escort us to Whitewave."
"And the idi- Prince Naruto?" questioned Sasori.
"If the Regent so desires…" she trailed off. Her answer was obvious.
"And your guests? What will they do while you're off wrangling raiders?" Kankuro inquired.
Sakura gave him an exasperated look. "Are you incapable of entertaining company for a while longer, Kankuro?"
Kankuro shrugged. "No. I just wanted to ask something smart, too."
Everyone laughed, at least for a bit. The worry was still there. Especially in Gaara's gaze as he suddenly grasped Sakura's arm. She looked over at him. She pressed a kiss to his temple.
"I know. I won't be long," she promised.
Early in the morning- early enough that there was almost no one else awake in the palace, Itachi stirred in his warm bed. He squinted as he struggled to identify just what had roused him at such an hour. He had finally adjusted to the difference in hours between his home and Plumeria. He had stopped waking in the afternoon, although Sakura had never made any comments about it in the first place.
The swaths of translucent white fabric flowing down to form a canopy around him swayed in the light breeze. They also conveniently acted as a barrier between his flesh and the hungry insects that tended to gather in the warm nights.
He ran a hand through his hair. His nose wrinkled against the scent that filled his room. The physician had filled the incense holders in the room with a strange, yellow herb that was supposed to strengthen his lungs. It burned quietly, filling the place with an earthy smell that reminded him of his home in the mountains. But the herb in the burners had burnt up in the night and the fragrance was light in the morning cool. Though Itachi couldn't exactly say that he disliked it, it was just strange to inhale that particular smell first thing in the morning.
It was then that Itachi, in all his grogginess, heard a splash. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the curtain around the bed aside to peer out the window above his bed. It was still dark out, but the rising sun was beginning to fill the sky with colors.
"Darling, you do realize that I am simply here to remind you of how dangerous this is," Sasori called. Standing on the walkway leading to the one of the palace's numerous buildings was the admiral with his hands on his hips. But the sag of his shoulders said that he wasn't worried at all. Eyes widening, Itachi followed the direction of Sasori's gaze until he saw Sakura sitting on top of the cube-shaped building. Legs dangling over the edge, Sakura leaned back on her hands and smirked down at him.
"You say that, but you aren't doing the best job of convincing me that I'm in danger," she replied.
She was barely clothed in swimwear that left her arms, legs, and stomach bare. Itachi swallowed thickly and tried to focus his gaze on her face. Her long hair was soaking wet and stuck to her back. Sakura then raised her arms over her head, clasping her hands together. Almost in slow motion, she leaned forward to bend her body in a perfect arch. Then she slipped off the edge of the roof. She sliced through the surface of the water at an angle with another splash. Sasori raised his hand to block the spray of water from hitting his face.
When Sakura's head broke through the waves, she threw her head back to keep her hair out of her eyes. She wiped her face with one hand before she swam her way to the walkway. Sasori offered her a hand but she simply pulled her arms up onto the wooden planks to rest there for a moment. She pillowed her cheek on her forearm as she caught her breath.
"You do realize that there are people trying to sleep," a gruff voice joined them. Shuffling out of one of the apartments, Kankuro raised his hand in greeting. Sasori returned the gesture before putting his hands back on his hips. Kankuro shuffled over, feet bare and still clothed in his linen pajama pants. His torso was bare, something that had initially surprised Itachi after growing up with people who wouldn't even leave their bedrooms without at least some sort of dressing gown on top of their nightclothes. But it seemed to be a normal thing for people on the island, and he supposed that it made sense given the warm nights.
Missing his usual scarf tied around his head at an angle, Kankuro ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a large yawn. There was a large tattoo of a spider on his left side, stretching from his hipbone up to his ribs.
"What are you even doing, My Lady? Aren't you usually taking your morning ride at this time?" he questioned as he rubbed his eyes.
"A change of pace is good for the soul. I will ride Kaze in the afternoon instead," answered Sakura. Then she lifted her head to look at Sasori. And because the redhead's back was turned to him, Itachi couldn't see the expression on his face. But something sparkled silently in Sakura's gaze before she abruptly grabbed Kankuro's ankle and pulled him into the water. He fell in with a loud noise that sprayed water in every direction.
When Kankuro rose to the surface, he spat salt water and then coughed.
"A little warning would have been appreciated!" he exclaimed.
"Well where's the fun in that, Cousin?" replied Sasori as he feigned innocence. Sakura nodded her agreement. Kankuro splashed water at Sasori, soaking his pajamas in an act of revenge. Sasori promptly pulled off his sandal and threw it at Kankuro. With a wet slap, the leather connected with Kankuro's forehead. Sakura laughed, her eyes squinting shut and her mouth opened wide.
Itachi watched from the quiet of his own room. After a while, he lowered his hand and let the veil fall back into place between them. He stared at her through that thin barrier for a moment longer. But the rising sun's rays began sparkling off the waters until he could no longer make out her shape through the brilliance of the reflected light. Then he closed his eyes to soak in the sounds of her mirth and the dull roar of ocean waves as the tide slowly filtered out.
He had started to understand why Sakura loved this island so. It wasn't just the food or the beauty of the scenery. It was the way she could speak and laugh so openly. Giggling and playing pranks like a child.
She had struck him as someone who wouldn't bleed even if pricked with a needle. As unchanging and firm as the face of a mountain. Strong enough to carry all those different titles on her shoulders.
But here, he could see that even the face of a mountain was shaped by things more powerful. And he understood that he was mistaken. She was not a mountain. She was an ocean current. Pulling and pushing, always beating against the land until slowly, unknowingly, it molded to her will.