Amaryllis
Chapter 15
A sigh escaped her parted lips. Warm oil dripped down her spine, marking a tingling trail to her belly. Sakura's eyes fluttered open. The fragrance of incense was thick in the air, almost clogging her throat. A gasp shot out of her mouth, followed by another moan as the masseuse dug his thumbs deep into the muscles of her right foot.
Arms crossed over her chest, Temari laughed.
"You don't seem too uncomfortable with having your feet touched now, My Lady," she teased. Sakura took the time to glare at her for a moment.
Samui tilted her head to one side. Her fair hair fell across her forehead in a straight line. She was Karui's retainer and childhood friend. So it seemed natural that she had fallen into step with the women as Karui showed them around the palace at the oasis.
"That's odd for royalty never to have experienced a massage before," Karui commented.
"Nonsense. Lady Sakura may be royalty but it is unreasonable to expect our visitor from the west to live just as we do," Samui chastised. Karui's eyebrows rose as she considered this. She seemed to toss the idea around inside her head before she nodded.
"While I certainly do not look lightly upon quality time... Is it completely necessary for all of you to be here at this very moment?" Sakura ground out between her teeth. There was a towel draped over her rear, but the only thing keeping her from exposing her chest to everyone was the fact that she was lying down.
She cast a worried glance at the young man working magic on her feet. Karui followed her gaze.
"Oh. Don't worry yourself over him. All our attendant boys are eunuchs. Perfectly harmless," Karui assured her with a wave of her hand. As if to accentuate the point, the servant paused his ministrations to wave a little.
Sakura's expression shifted. Her jaw tightened.
"At what age?" Sakura queried.
Karui's lips puckered around a grape as she considered.
"Oh...about 11 or 12, I believe. That way the princes wouldn't have to worry about any of the little ones running around the harem not being theirs," she replied with a shrug.
Temari, who had been monitoring Sakura's expression, twisted her lips to one side. She touched Samui's arm. Samui leaned in to listen to Temari's whisper. Samui glanced at Sakura's face before she looked at Karui.
"I think it's a wonderful arrangement. We take very good care of our eunuchs," Karui went on.
Samui took a step forward and grasped Karui's wrist. She gave a shake of her head, pointedly eyeing Sakura as she took over.
"Lady Sakura, you must understand. Our servants are orphans, or they've been sold by their parents. We care for them. We feed and educate them. We offer them opportunities and comfort that would otherwise be out of their reach," Samui explained.
Temari let out a helpless sort of sigh as Sakura pushed the boy's hands away. She motioned to the three servant girls who had been waiting on the side- like they were part of the richly-colored mural painted on the wall.
The girls came running, holding out towels and a long robe. One held a towel in front of her body to preserve modesty. The other two wiped the oil from Sakura's body and then guided her arms into the sleeves. Even tying it shut for her in the front. They hurried after her as Sakura slipped off the table, striding out of the room.
Eyes wide, Karui turned to her companions.
"Was I insensitive?" she wondered. Samui raised her eyebrows, shrugging. They both looked to Temari, who sighed again.
Temari pushed her hair out of her eyes, considering her words.
"Lady Sakura is… very set on her morals. She… she has always hated taking choices from someone. She very much believes in freedom," explained Temari as best as she could.
Samui blinked a few times. "I don't understand," she answered.
"Yes, they choose to become eunuchs. It's an honor," Karui added.
Temari huffed as she tried to think of the best way to reply.
She remembered the mutiny that had nearly broken out so many years ago. The way Sakura's resolve had never wavered. The way she stared down the men two or three times her size as they loomed over her.
"Plumeria is a port city. We see many travelers. And many brothels sprung up to meet the needs of all those travelers," she recalled.
"Certainly. We have whorehouses here as well," Samui agreed.
"Queen Tsunade, may she rest in peace, despised brothels. She barely tolerated them because, at the very least, they allowed women to earn a living. And, unsurprisingly, she passed this hatred on to her only daughter."
Because Temari had been in Plumeria to see it. Her brothers had been too young to understand, perhaps. But she had seen the way Queen Tsunade's eyes had narrowed. Her lips twisting into a snarl.
She had seen the same expression on Sakura's face as she stood on the steps of the largest whorehouse in the city. One hand gripping her falchion. The other held in front of her.
"Those of you who no longer wish to work here, you have a place in Sami," Sakura had announced.
Nine years old. The paint on her coronation portrait had barely dried in the humidity. And there she stood. Her guards had refused to stand by her, so instead, her nurse and other servants had stood by her side.
"She went through the city recruiting all the women who no longer wanted to sell their bodies and told them to work for her instead. She would house them and their children. She would protect them. It was incredible. I don't think I even knew what a whore did at that age," laughed Temari, shaking her head. Remembering Sakura still drowning in the diadem that was far too large for her.
"She couldn't shut down the whorehouses. She knew that. But she knew that, given the opportunity, many of the whores would leave that life behind. And so we gained about fifty new servants that day."
The merchants, soldiers, and sailors had crowded the front gate of the palace. Demanding to see the little duchess. To demand their women returned to them.
Temari remembered her jaw dropping as Sakura appeared at the top of the stairs. Flanked by the painted ladies in their jewels and their heavy makeup.
"What does a child know about the needs of adults!"
Sakura, smirking, had replied: "Any of these women is free to return at any time. I will allow them to decide."
"And may the gods strike me dead if I exaggerate, but not a single woman left her side," Temari concluded.
Karui's eyebrows knitted together.
"I believe that I understand her intentions, but surely that would require a great amount of gold to care for all these people. She must have raised taxes," Samui protested. Karui nodded.
"Lady Sakura realized this too. One of her vassals suggested training those women in trades so that they could sustain themselves. Many of them now harvest and dye the silk of the isle."
Karui's eyes sparkled as she took this in. Like she was listening to a fairytale. Enthralled by the exploits of some fantasy warrior. And not the distant cousin who had just stormed from the room.
"What of the guards who abandoned her?" Karui inquired.
Temari smiled.
"Lady Sakura had them whipped for their disobedience. Not a single one of them turned their back on her ever again," answered Temari.
Karui closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath.
"Oh, I do love a happy ending. How satisfying," she remarked. And when she opened her eyes, she looked over at Samui, who still looked skeptical.
"It is a nice story. But such grand gestures are rarely sustainable. How many great warriors has our family boasted only for their subjects to rebel and overthrow them?" Samui pointed out.
"You doubt my story?" Temari said, eyes narrowing.
Samui shook her head. "What of those women? What of the whorehouses now?"
"Ah." Temari thought for a moment. Her young brothers would have a more accurate idea of the businesses of the island. She didn't spend as much time in the cities as they did.
"Perhaps… two remain?" she guessed, trying to remember the buildings.
"In the city?" Samui prompted.
"No, on the island, I think."
It was quiet as Karui and Samui took that information in.
A long moment passed before Karui finally said: "It would not be a simple task to convince men to cast aside the pleasure found in many women for the approval of one."
Temari chuckled as she nodded. "My Lady is… well… a Haruno through and through," Temari responded to the doubts of her cousin. Karui only nodded, though her face remained somewhat pinched with confusion. But still she gestured toward Samui.
"Our cousin finds our practices somewhat distasteful. Though I doubt she expects an apology, let us avoid the subject in the future," Karui suggested. Samui sighed in response.
Meanwhile, Sakura dressed in rough, impatient motions. The servant girls attempted to brush her hair while avoiding her moving elbows.
"Doesn't it bother you?" she suddenly demanded. She was met with bewildered looks. There was an awkward pause until the boldest girl spoke.
"…Begging your pardon, My Lady," she ventured in an accented voice, "Of what do you speak?" Her round eyes peered up at her. The irises were brown with a sprinkle of green. Her thick black hair was pinned back behind her ear with a single jeweled clip.
Sakura held her tongue as the emotions continued to stew deep inside her gut. Her great-uncle's words from a few days ago rang in her ears.
Even if the mighty ocean wave beats against the boulder, it might, on occasion, grow weary, no?
Breathing out a huge sigh, Sakura shook her head.
"Are you girls happy here? Are you treated kindly?" she amended. The girls bent their heads together, whispering as they translated for one another. They were sisters. Their grasp of Sakura's language was impressive at their age. Sakura waited for them to consider together. The same girl lifted her head again.
"Well, Karui-sama purchased all three of us at an auction. We were scared that we would be separated but she saved us. We are not hungry and we are safe. Someday, we might marry a good craftsman or merchant and have our own families," she slowly explained.
"Don't you miss your families?" wondered Sakura.
More whispering. And then one of the girls responded: "Our family threw us away. We do not miss them."
"Our work is often hard but we are grateful for what we have," another girl added.
Scowling to herself, Sakura sighed again.
"I'm having difficulty… understanding. They are bought…so they are essentially slaves. Property, even," Sakura later said. Kankuro tossed a pomegranate seed high into the air. He held his mouth open to try to catch it but the seed landed on his cheek.
"Kankuro."
"I'm listening, Lady Sakura. It's just that my cousin Teru can do this with his eyes closed. And in response to your moral quandary, what makes our servants so different from those here?" Kankuro replied as he tore off another seed and weighed it in his palm. He threw it up.
Sakura frowned.
"That's entirely different. Our servants are employed. Many of them we house but several of them live in the city. We do not own them or bind them to one place," she protested. The seed bounced off his chin. Kankuro turned to give her a pointed look.
"Please. After you gutted the whorehouses, you took in the women that were turned out of their homes. You shelter, clothe, and feed many of them. Many are wholly dependent on you for their lives, My Lady," he stated.
"But they are free to go at any time," Sakura replied.
"Go where?" Kankuro countered.
He tossed a seed up and caught it neatly in his mouth. Grinding the pulp and seed between his molars, Kankuro turned to look at her.
"I do not say this to accuse you of anything, Lady Sakura. Your treatment our servants goes far above and beyond the standard. You do not mutilate the boys, which, quite frankly, having grown up so far from the practice, makes my stomach turn as well. However, the fact remains that in order for us, the top tier, to survive, there must be a bottom," he concluded.
There was a long pause. Sakura's hands clenched in her lap. Kankuro waited, cracking a handful of pomegranate seeds as he chewed some more.
"I'm an oppressor," she finally concluded in a quiet voice. Kankuro smirked. He stuck his finger under his gold necklace to tug on the chain. The precious metal glittered.
"We all are," he replied. "We only profit where blood is shed. That's how it has always been."
Red fabric spilled across the tables like an overturned goblet of wine. There were shades of blood, some closer to purple. Looms clattered in the background, the threads weaving into complex patterns of rainbows.
In the next room were men with greying hair. They held circles of glass up to their eyes to peer down at diamonds of different sizes. Mashing tobacco leaves against their gums, they scowled and grumbled over the grade of each gem.
Another room contained countless shelves of vials and bottles filled with liquids of every color. And yet another housed squares of fabric from every country and every tribe imaginable.
The Diamond Oasis was a fascinating place filled with so many people working.
Her ire from the previous day cooling, Sakura had agreed to have Samui guide her through a section of the palace that she had yet to explore. Gaara and Kankuro were off with some of their cousins on a hunting trip with the falcons. Temari and Karui had gone out to the market early in the morning.
"We used to combine it with cows' milk and ground rubies. But the cost just became too exorbitant. So now we crush the ores with the saltwater pearls we receive from your isle, Princess," Samui explained in the room that used to house the prince's second wife and children in the royal harem. Now it was instead furnished with worktables and shelves.
Samui poured a handful of glistening metal and then another handful of polished pearls into the mortar. She added in a trickle of clean water before she began grinding the mixture with a sturdy stone pestle. The crackle of the precious stone giving way to powder fascinated Sakura. The sparkling dust mixed in with the water, creating a silky black paste. Once the mixture was smooth, she dipped a thin brush in, coating the tip evenly before scraping the excess off on the edges of the stone bowl.
Sakura leaned forward to watch as the tip of the brush swept delicately across Samui's lash line. And then the other. The black tapered off into an angled wing that widened her eyes somehow. It was a mystery how she made both sides even without looking into the mirror.
"Would you like a try, Princess?" she offered as her eyes slid open. The kohl drew attention to her eyes, making the deep green of her irises pop. Sakura hesitated. Gaara and Kankuro applied the stuff to their eyes daily. And Temari had taken to it as well since arriving in the Arids. The dry, dusty climate made it almost necessary, Temari claimed.
But…
Her hands clenched into fists. Soldiers didn't wear kohl.
"Come now, Princess. You can always wash it away if it's not to your liking," Samui insisted with a surprisingly warm smile. Sakura squared her shoulders. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she nodded.
"Very well."
A letter arrived later that day in the palace in the Arids. It was a miracle that the messenger had arrived all the way from the Southern Tea Isle. Dusty and panting, he rested in the shade outside the room. Sakura slit the envelope faded by the scorching sun. As she opened up the paper inside, she reclaimed her seat among her cousins.
Kankuro plucked lazily at the strings of a long-necked instrument that resembled a lute. Temari finished twisting tiny golden bells into a lock of Gaara's hair with blue thread. Smiling fondly, she ruffled his hair just to listen to the delicate tinkle. They were all too occupied to notice that Sakura had suddenly fallen silent.
Dear Sakura,
It's been nearly two months since you departed for your ancestral home in the Arids. After Sasuke returned to our country, I feared that I would grow lonely in your absence. And while this is somewhat true, your cousin and your aunt have seen to it that I would feel welcomed here. Miss Shizune tries to act as if nothing is wrong but she seems to miss you dearly. Haku is working as diligently as ever but he does stop each morning to put fresh flowers in your room. I think he would appreciate a letter from you as well.
To be honest, I initially doubted the potential efficacy of your war council. Count Maito, from your stories of him, seemed such an unreliable figure. And Count Hatake seemed too young to be able to offer sound advice. But they have been surprisingly diligent in their suggestions in our planning. I would, here, ask you not to worry and then selfishly ask that you return quickly. But I suppose I should exercise more patience.
I do not know how long it will take for this letter to reach you. There will obviously be many things that come to pass during this period. I can only hope that you will have arrived safely by the time this letter reaches there. The Admiral tells me that it will be impossible for you to begin your journey home until the spring, when the sea ice has melted to allow passage through the northern seas. Until then, I will do my best to protect what you treasure.
I love you.
Itachi
Gaara glanced over at Sakura. She had been reading the same letter for several minutes now. And then, slowly, color began to rise up to her cheeks.
Kankuro, who had been chomping into a thick slice of melon, froze. Tossing the rind aside, he crawled across the blanket to Sakura. Temari took a puff off a thin silver pipe before handing it off to her youngest brother. She sidled up next to Sakura too, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Sakura glared at the two of them for a long moment before she threw the letter at Kankuro. She let out a proud huff before she stood and walked off to stare out the window.
"Blahblah...I miss you…the Counts...war meetings...come home... OH," Kankuro skimmed through. But then he came to the final part of the letter. Whirling around on his heel, he pointed at Sakura.
"OH!" he said again with a grin.
"What?" Gaara questioned. Draped over her brother's shoulders, Temari also gave a devilish smile.
"Well, baby brother, it appears that suave Prince Itachi is in love with our lady," Kankuro crowed. Sakura's shoulders tensed.
"And he wants her to come home soon," Temari added with a smug look. Gaara's mouth puckered into a frown.
"...Well… was that not obvious from the first time you met him?" he said.
His siblings erupted into howling laughter. Kankuro ran over to the window to grab Sakura's hand. He began twirling around in circles, forcing Sakura into his momentum. Temari joined in on the fray, flapping the letter around. Though her mouth was set into a firm line, as the singing and laughing continued, Sakura's lips gradually softened. Her limbs loosened until she allowed him to twirl her around to his singsong voice. When Gaara snubbed the pipe out before scrambling to his feet to join them, Sakura sighed.
"Not you too!" she groaned above Kankuro's childlike chanting.
"Lady Sakura and Prince Itachi. A union of two beauuuu-ties," he teased endlessly. But Gaara grabbed her hands, a shy smile lighting up his face.
"I don't know about big brother, but I'm celebrating for your happiness, My Lady," he admitted through the din. Sakura froze for a moment as she took in the words. But then affection for Gaara swelled up in her chest. Throwing her arms around him, she grabbed him in a hug.
"I am very fortunate to have wonderful family like you three," she admitted. Kankuro wrapped his arms around them all and squeezed. It was a rare moment of open affection from Sakura that couldn't be wasted for even one second, after all.
Soon after, Kankuro and Gaara were off to meet with some relatives for supper. Sakura smiled fondly after them for a moment. Temari folded the letter and set it on top of the desk. She then sighed.
"Well... tonight you dine with the Prince and Karui. I suppose you will be asking for their support then?" Temari brought up with reluctance. It was easy to forget about the conflict looming in their own lands when they were so far away. The smile faded from Sakura's lips. She rose to her feet, brushing off the back of her silk skirt.
"Would you help me dress?" she requested. Temari dipped her head.
The process of dressing in the Arids required fewer hands than it did back home. There were no petticoats or corsets like on the mainland (not that Sakura ever willingly squeezed herself into those torture devices). Instead, the women wore long skirts that protected their skin from the unforgiving sun. They also wore long-sleeved shirts under hooded shawls. The potential monotony of the ensemble was broken up by the intricate stitch work decorating the fabric. And the edges of cloths were hemmed with shimmering tassels and lengths of braided thread. Sakura had received countless gifts of fabric from relatives upon her arrival in the desert palace. She admired the sheen of the golden threads that shimmered in the light.
"This is…oh, from your second cousins to the north. See? They've stitched hawks all around the edges. And this bolt is from your third cousins in the eastern mountains. Their patterns always include the cactus," Karui explained as she went over each gift. There were blooming flowers and thorny leaves. Goats, moons, and shapes spread out in dark colors that exploded into bright shades of red and orange at the ends. Each choice of animal, each choice of color was signature enough that Karui rarely referred back to the accompanying letters.
"These are from my brother. He is, unfortunately, away on business. But it is quite fashionable at the moment to wear these bangles…" Karui drifted off as Sakura shifted her foot. The stack of golden anklets clinked together in a delicate sound. Trying not to smile, Sakura pulled up her sleeve to show off the three bracelets on her left wrist.
"Well…regardless, please accept them. He insists," Karui continued on as she pushed the lacquered box over. Sakura placed her open palm over her heart and nodded.
"It would be my pleasure," she assured her.
That night, Sakura slid the deep blue dress over her head, the new bracelets tinkling against the old ones. Her hair was slicked back with a dab of rose oil to each of her palms. Temari brought out a shawl, richly embroidered with shimmering threads. It told a story of a lamb traveling across a plain. There were clusters of roses framing the scenes. Sakura let the cloth settle across her shoulders. It had a faintly musky smell, as if the incense in the smoky room it had been created in lingered in the threads. Temari knelt to assist Sakura in slipping into her sandals. The soft calf leather molded against her foot. The lacings crisscrossed up her leg. Sakura's face pinched as she stared off into the distance.
"You look troubled. Are you worried, My Lady?" observed Temari as she stood.
Sakura considered this as she fit the hooks of her gold earrings in. They were half moons with rubies set into the flattened disks.
"I'm not quite certain," she answered with honesty that surprised even herself.
When Sakura arrived, the flatbread grilled on a hot slab of stone was just being served. Karui and Ebizo were the only other people seated at the low table. Temari lingered in the doorway, her spear held in her hand. Her eyes darted from the windows to the ceilings, checking for threats.
"Come sit, child. You must be hungry," Ebizo said, motioning for her with a wrinkled hand. Temari hesitated for another second before she obeyed to come settle to the seat to the right of Sakura at the square table. Ebizo and Karui sat across from them, their hands soaking in the perfumed bowls of warm water. The liquid washed away any of the desert sand and left a sweet odor on their skin. Sakura dipped her hands into her own bowl. She watched the way the water rippled over her skin, blurring the lines of her fingers.
"You have no reason to fear. You are just as welcome at my table as Sakura is," Ebizo chuckled. Temari's eyes remained sharp as she also dunked her hands into her bowl. But she swished them around once before motioning for a towel to wipe her fingers dry. She swiped the fabric twice, returned it to the servant, and then turned to face the aging prince. Back straight, she dipped her head.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, it was not fear of impropriety that kept me standing. It was concern for Lady Sakura's wellbeing," Temari responded. Sakura bit back a smile at the way the old man's eyebrows rose high on his forehead for a moment. Then he settled back in his seat to let out a full-bellied chuckle.
"That tenacity. You certainly are Rasa's child," he chortled. The thin-lipped smile she gave in return barely concealed her disdain at being compared to her father. Sakura raised two fingers and servants brought out two goblets of wine for them.
"Speaking of which, I haven't had a chance to greet Lord Rasa yet," Sakura observed.
"He's moved to the north to be with his brothers and sisters," answered Ebizo. And then he gave her a sidelong look. "He had much to… say of you," the old man then added.
Sakura smirked. "As do I," she chuckled.
"Brilliant. Passionate. And spiteful. A Haruno through and through, I suppose," she then commented.
"What caused him to fall out of your favor, if I may ask?" Karui spoke up.
Sakura looked over at Temari, who didn't say anything.
"Well… being unfavorable," replied Sakura.
She let her smile pull tight, the silence stretching on and on until Sakura chose to look away.
"Great-Uncle, I must say that I was quite impressed by some of the craftsmen you employ here," Sakura smoothly cut in. She steered the conversation away from a sensitive matter, instead asking about the different exports and crafts she had seen during the day.
Ebizo chuckled at her observations, his snowy head occasionally nodding. His fingers closed around a long, thin pipe. A servant appeared to light the end. Dark blue wisps streamed from the metal tip of the pipe as Ebizo closed his teeth around it.
As they spoke, servants arrived with platters of hot food. They ate with their hands, laughing at stories and shaking their head at all the right moments. And as Sakura took a sip of her wine, she meaured Ebizo's easy expression.
"It saddens me to ask this during such a glad time but there is something I must ask of you, Great-Uncle," Sakura confessed. Ebizo peered at her from under his thick white eyebrows. He wiped off his mouth and mustache before setting his napkin down. Lacing bony fingers together, he waited for Sakura to speak. Karui swallowed her mouthful of marinated lamb as she hurried to do the same.
When General Haruno walked down the halls of the military academy, people parted for her. In fact, people were prone to pressing their backs up against the wall as they saluted. Elbows tight and knees locked. Eyes shining with adoration or fear. Or a mixture of both.
It had been about two months since General Haruno's departure from the capital.
Instead, someone else walked down the same halls, polished shoes tapping against the deep green tile. A second set of footsteps followed closely next to him, the equally shining shoes matching his pace. Despite his best attempt at the serious expression, no one seemed particularly interested in him. Glancing around, Naruto took a moment to puff out his chest a little like the other men were doing. He had been chastised by his mother for half his life about his posture. But these soldiers strode around as if their spines were carved from a single column of stone. Naruto threw back his shoulders a little further, arms moving stiffly at his sides.
All he received in return were a few sidelong glances and stifled scoffs.
"Sir Sai…" Naruto said.
"Yes, Prince?" answered Sai from next to him. Naruto glanced over at his personal knight.
"Why do I have…the feeling that I'm being laughed at?" Naruto questioned. Sai simply stretched his mouth up into one of his usual smiles.
"Because you are, in fact, being laughed at. Is there a reason why you're walking like a fool?" Sai asked in return. Red crept up the back of Naruto's neck as he relaxed his posture. The completely insincere smile on the knight's face only made the situation worse. Naruto's face twisted into a scowl as they finally reached the right set of doors.
Two spears crossed, blocking the entrance.
"Let me through," Naruto demanded.
The two guards flanking the door didn't even look at him. They stared straight ahead.
An icy voice from behind made Naruto jolt.
"I was wondering who was making an unpleasant scene in these halls," came an impatient sigh.
Neji approached, his arms folded across his chest.
"That's no way to greet us, young Lord Hyuuga," Sai chastised.
Neji didn't bat an eye. "Why on earth would I greet you in any other way?" Neji stopped in front of them, gesturing around the halls. "You barge into the Academy uninvited and unannounced. And besides, my uncle is a Duke. The only person of our age above me in rank is the General."
At this, Sai's mouth pulled into an uncomfortable smile. Before the knight could speak again, Naruto took a step forward.
"I'm sorry for that. I just need to talk to the Lieutenant Generals about something important. Concerning Sakura," explained Naruto.
At this, Neji's eyes narrowed. He stared at Naruto. It was a long moment before he nodded at the guards. He knocked two times before he slipped into the room. Shutting the door behind him, nearly hitting Naruto in the nose.
"You have a visitor," Neji announced.
Shikamaru looked up from his work, eyes narrowing. Sighing, he pointed his pen toward the desk across from him. Kiba stood at his desk, a large map dominating the entire surface. He barely glanced at the unexpected guest as he scratched at his head.
"But that fails to explain how we would defend this weakness in the western flank," Kiba growled, tapping an insistent finger against the map. The colored pieces placed on the map wobbled a little at the assault. Shino sighed, his hands on his hips.
"Well, this seems to be a good place to take a short break. Perhaps some time away from the problem will give us so clarity," Shino suggested. Then, without turning toward the door, Shino spoke again.
"Who is it?"
"The Regent's son," answered Neji.
Shino simply pinched the bridge of his nose. Kiba growled under his breath.
"I'll handle this," he grumbled as he strode to the door. He flung it open. Naruto stumbled back, obviously struggling to eavesdrop through the thick wood.
"Is there a problem, Prince? This is hardly the place for you to be wandering around."
Naruto bristled, hands clenching at his sides. But it was Sai's cool voice that cut in. Along with the sharp clink of his sword.
"I should have a word with the General on your conduct. Is this how all you soldiers address a person of status?" Sai said with another smile. Kiba bared his teeth in an equally unfriendly grin.
"You speak so casually of the General. As if she has the time to listen to your nonsense," he retorted. "And I question the judgment of two men who have the time and leisure to flounder around like this."
Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Shino glanced Sai over. "Have you been permitted to return to duty already, Sir Sai? Even after the catastrophic failure in the Mountain Kingdom?"
A smirk widened Sai's mouth.
"Prince Naruto is unharmed. I believe I fulfilled my role perfectly," he retorted.
Kiba bristled. "You-"
"Stop!" Naruto interrupted. His face was beginning to turn red. Almost like he might cry. "I need to know where Sakura is. Tell me what's going on!"
There was silence in the room. A red piece from the map faltered and rolled off the edge of the table, clattering to the floor.
"I may not be as smart as Sakura, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like I'm brainless and ignore me. I've been noticing the weird things around here," Naruto ground out. Angry tears pricked at his eyes. He hurried to wiped them away with his sleeve.
"Whatever do you mean, Prince Naruto?" questioned Shikamaru, his eyes narrowing. Still sniffing away angry tears, Naruto cleared his throat.
"Well... Count Yamanaka's daughter is missing. Sakura just left without saying anything and she hasn't even answered any of my letters. It just feels…strange…I'm just… scared…" Naruto trailed off as he struggled to find just the right words.
Shino over at Shikamaru.
Forehead wrinkling, Shikamaru put his quill down.
"She… you write to her?" demanded Shikamaru.
Rubbing at his eyes with his sleeves again, Naruto lifted his chin. He looked over Kiba's shoulder, right at Shikamaru as he nodded. "Every week. Since she went to the Academy."
"Every week?" Kiba repeated, his eyebrows rising too.
"Since we were 12. Father and Mother, too," Naruto replied.
Shino's eyes narrowed as he caught the look on Sai's face. That perfect smile faltered. Just for a moment.
"Speaking such lies with confidence. You truly are incredible," Shino interrupted, reaching for the doorknob under Kiba's elbow. When Kiba glanced back at him, Shino just stared. Kiba stepped to the side.
Naruto scowled. He pointed an accusatory finger at Shino's face as he yelled, "I'm not a liar! You should do something! Things are strange around here!"
Kiba's expression darkened. He grabbed the edge of the door, hand slamming down just beside Naruto's face. Naruto jerked back, startled.
"You are foolish and ignorant. It is you who should be doing something. Especially after everything the General has done for you," Kiba growled. And with that, he slammed the door shut. He twisted the lock before he turned to face his companions.
"Did you catch that, Shikamaru?" asked Shino.
Hands folding under his chin, Shikamaru shook his head. Kiba shook his head too when Shino looked his way.
"When Prince Naruto mentioned the letters, Sir Sai's expression…" Shino trailed off, glancing back at the door.
Kiba touched his thumb to his chin. "That knight knows something."
Staring out the window, Shikamaru heaved a sigh. "He must."
"I'll have someone look into it. Perhaps they can also find out where the General is," Shino suggested, his shoulders also heavy.
Only Kiba seemed untroubled as he stepped back to the map laid out on his desk. He retrieved the fallen red piece and replaced it. He surveyed the lands. The sweeping valleys and the fertile soils that produced so much food. And then his eyes fell on the eastern coast where his mother's lands lay.
Perhaps it would be worth consulting her about this. He knew that his mother would provide her assistance. After all, 13 generations of following the Haruno's hadn't led his family astray. There was no reason for that to change after all this time.
"Wherever she is, I hope she isn't causing too much trouble," Kiba chuckled to himself.
The Arids were never humid, which was something that Sakura appreciated. She glanced around the room. All the faces were hazy from the smoking pipe being passed around the circle.
Kankuro lounged in a pile of pillows in the corner with a few of his friends and cousins. The edges of the dark purple fabric tied around his head swayed as he laughed and shook his head. Nearby was Gaara, having a conversation with a distant relative who had apparently had great success as a traveling merchant. Karui and Samui shared a glass of wine as a circle of suitors fawned over them.
Temari sat at her side, as always, spear resting on the wall behind her. She was also the only one with a rigid posture, sharp eyes taking in everything with deceptive calm.
"Troubled, My Lady?" Temari asked when she felt Sakura's gaze on her.
Sakura wrinkled her nose.
"I am…very much in support of quality time spent together. But this…aroma isn't quite to my…liking," Sakura admitted as someone handed off the pipe to her. The dark fumes curling from the end were nothing like the simple tobacco Ebizo smoked. Temari too refused the pipe, instead passing it on to the next person. The acrid smell left a musty taste in the air.
"Lady Sakura," someone said. Temari and Sakura turned their heads in unison. Temari's fingers reached for the shaft of her weapon. But it was merely one of the servants, her eyes averted modestly from the great, hulking man towering beside her.
"Prince Baki of the Viper's Fang," he greeted her in a deep voice.
The servant girl bowed and stepped away. The light patter of her retreating footsteps only emphasized the ensuing silence.
Sakura sat with her legs folded underneath her, the long folds of her skirt concealing the knives strapped to her upper thighs. Baki stared down at her, hard. His black eyes never wavering from her face. Finally, Sakura nodded at him.
"Prince Baki. To what do I owe this great honor?" she addressed him warmly. Up his right arm crawled a spiraling tattoo of a black snake. Baki inhaled deeply through his nostrils before he spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.
"Perhaps you would oblige me a private audience."
He spoke her language well. Which was a relief, given that she had a fumbling grasp of the language her ancestor's had once spoken. More than once, Sakura found herself wishing that her grandmother had been alive to teach it to her.
Temari was already rising to her feet when she saw Sakura's expression.
"Please lead the way," Sakura replied. Baki offered his large hand. She accepted, allowing him to pull her up in one easy motion.
She felt Gaara and Kankuro's eyes on her. Kankuro rose on his elbow, as if asking whether he should follow. Sakura shook her head at them. The brothers remained seated, but their gazes followed them until they were out of the room.
Sakura's hand rested on Baki's arm as they strolled. Temari was a few steps behind them, a silent shadow along the carpeted corridors. Sakura took a moment to examine Baki's steady gait. It was oddly comforting to be in the presence of someone who walked like her again.
"How have you enjoyed your stay in our deserts so far, Lady Sakura?" he queried. She quirked a smile. But before she could speak, he chuckled. The sound was like rocks rolling together.
"Of course, you have been asked this many times already," he then added. Her shoulders relaxed a bit.
"Your insight spares you a boring answer, Prince Baki," answered Sakura with a small laugh.
The spacious corridor was a rich explosion of colors. The tile floors were covered in long lengths of expensive rugs. And the walls were covered with tapestries. The thick clay walls insulated against the desert heat and winds but it was one uniform shade of reddish brown. So any artwork was a welcome addition. As she passed, Sakura had to pause. One particular tapestry caught her eye. And Baki quickly felt the tug of resistance on his arm and stopped to humor her.
"Are you a fan of art?" he asked, conversationally pleasant. Sakura shook her head.
"I am woefully ungifted with the taste for fine art. I prefer literature," confessed Sakura. Still, she tilted her head slightly to take in the different colors. There was warmth in the way the gold blended together with deep red and purple. She admired the attention to detail, the richness of the colors. It almost made her a little homesick.
They continued along the hall, glimpsing the oasis that the city was named for. The large pool was supplied by water that bubbled up from deep underground. It was tinged a little green, but there was something charming about that. Now, at night, the edges of the oasis glowed with the lights from the buildings that covered the edge of the waters. As they were all crowding together to drink from the pool.
"Karo City continues to dazzle. Even though this is hardly the first time I've been here," remarked Baki, following her gaze to the oasis.
"Karo?" Sakura repeated.
Baki looked at her now. He glanced at the jewels clasped around her throat, eyebrows rising.
"Diamond," he translated for her. "Part of how your family makes its fortune, as I'm sure you know."
Sakura could feel him flexing his arm under her hand. She tried not to smile.
"And what is your city like, Prince Baki?" she queried.
"The Viper's Fang is much less hostile than it sounds. You are, of course, welcome to visit whenever you please, Lady Sakura… or is it Princess?" answered Baki.
They continued on, until they reached one of the gardens inside the palace walls. A testament to the wealth and power of the Haruno family that it could afford to keep such a lush garden in the middle of the desert. The gravel crunched underfoot as they stepped onto the path. It wasn't all that dark here. Braziers lit with flames illuminated the walkways.
In the middle of this garden stood a tall marble statue. Sakura paused to read the inscription in the dark. It took her a moment to decipher the script. She had studied the written language of the Arids as a child.
"Masato the Great," she read out loud.
The first ancestor of the Haruno clan. A fearsome warrior who had carved a path of conquest through the sands. She stared up at the stony face, wondering whether he had truly looked the way they depicted him.
A thought occurred to her then. She turned back to Baki. She had never responded to his question.
"I go by either. Lady or Princess. General, too," she told him, her hands clasped behind her back.
His eyes lit up, like he hadn't been expecting that. Although, she supposed it was unfair to expect everyone to keep track of her long list of titles.
Tilting her head to the side, Sakura examined the enormous curved blade Baki wore at his waist. The gem embedded in the rounded pommel glistened like fresh blood.
He followed her stare.
"I wouldn't face an unarmed opponent. Perhaps another… time…" Baki trailed off when Temari stepped forward presenting Sakura's falchion.
Sakura grasped the hilt. She swung it around a few times to stretch her muscles. And then she turned to Baki with a smile.
"How about now?" she challenged instead.
She gave him time to stretch too. He took up his sword, eyeing her as they slowly circled each other in the middle of the garden.
He didn't insult her by saying anything idiotic like "ladies, first". Baki lunged. His swings coming in fast and heavy. Rattling her arm and shoulder as she parried his blows. His speed surprised her given his large frame. Her feet could barely keep up with his flurry of jabs.
And as they spar went on, Sakura could see how this fighting style was meant to instill panic in opponents. It wasn't meant for endurance. She could see it from the way his swings began to slow as he began to run out of steam.
Their blades clashed. Sakura loosened her grip just enough for Baki's next attack to send her falchion flying out of her hands. But just as she saw his shoulders relax, she reached under her skirts. Grabbing a knife in each hand.
Sparks flew as she launched herself at him, sparks flicking to life as the edge of Baki's sword connected with Sakura's knives. She gritted her teeth as she pushed back against his sheer power.
At first, Baki's eyes widened. And then he was laughing as he held the pressure for an extra moment. They disengaged, taking a few steps back from each other. Sakura spun the knives once in her palms to warm up her muscles there.
"The Heartless does not disappoint," he commented. Sakura flicked her bangs out of her eyes with the tips of her blades.
The instant she saw Baki begin to move again, she jumped. Their weapons collided again with a shrill noise. This time Sakura pressed her crossed blades down to put pressure on Baki. He leaned back to accommodate her small stature. Sand scratched against the bottoms of their shoes.
"Sweet talk in the middle of a fight?" Sakura quipped. Baki pushed against her, laughing again.
Sakura stumbled back one step. But it took only another breath for her to attack again. Her knives sang as they cleaved through the air, barely missing his thighs. And she barely raised her arm in time to deflect his weapon chopping down on her. She strained against him for a moment. Then, with movements as quick as lightning, she darted past him. The tips of her blades grazed against his shirt.
They stepped apart. Sakura caught her breath while Baki looked down to examine the thin scratches in the fabric of his shirt. His dark skin peeked out from beneath the white cotton. Rather than grow angry, Baki looked up at her with a grin. He tossed his sword up and caught it.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
Sakura didn't say anything. Tongue in her cheek, she simply raised her eyebrows at him. She advanced, sharpened blades aimed directly for his chest. Baki dodged. He swung his weapon. But Sakura darted out of the way so that his blade only made contact with the ground.
They continued to weave in and out of each other's reach. Occasionally their steel collided, spraying more red sparks into the air. Sakura couldn't help but smile. Fire rushed through her hands, tingling up her arms and into her chest.
This was the thrill of battling someone who posed a significant challenge. Even when the blade nicked her hands when she couldn't dodge fast enough, she laughed. Because she flicked off pieces of his shirt and cowl with deft movements of her hands.
When Baki sent her blades flying with a particularly agile twist of his sword, she reached under her skirts to retrieve two more. The sight sent Baki into more roars of laughter.
With a loud cry, Sakura pounced. Her right blade grazed the side of his face. When she jumped back, she saw a thin line of red rise to the surface of his dark cheek. The predatory glint in Baki's eyes threw her off for a moment. And in that second, Baki attacked. His sword sliced through the sky, coming to a halt just against her throat. She could feel the cold metal when she swallowed.
"It appears that I have won," he remarked with a distinct air of satisfaction. Sakura didn't say anything. But her eyebrows rose as she pointedly let her gaze trail down. Baki followed, only to find her twin blades resting just between his parted legs.
"If I sneeze, your dynasty ends, Prince," she corrected him. Baki blinked down at the situation.
And the easy grin that stretched across his face made the hairs on her arms rise. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, trailing all the way to his throat. The defined muscles on his shoulders twitched slightly. She could smell the adrenaline in the air. She read the seasons of conflicts won in his face. She could imagine him with the same expression on a battlefield, sweaty and battered but victorious. The way his black eyes bored into her made her tingle.
"I must say, Princess…You have certainly…exceeded my expectations," he commended between pants.
She traced the shape of his lips with her eyes. And then her gaze was drawn to the tight muscles in his arms. The back of her throat burned with tangible heat as she drew in a slow breath. She could feel him doing the same. Yet when she took a step away, he did the same.
Sakura stabbed her knives back into the holsters strapped to her upper thighs. Temari was at her elbow, offering her the other pair of knives. As Sakura adjusted her clothing and pushed her hair out of her eyes, she noticed that their spar had drawn an audience. Low stone walls edged the garden. Kankuro and Gaara leaned against one of them, watching, waving when she spotted them.
"I've made up my mind," Baki suddenly declared. Sakura's gaze returned to him.
"Prince Ebizo informed me that you are in need of soldiers. I will be honored to provide my services."
Sakura's eyes narrowed. "At what cost?"
"None. My mother was a Haruno. I simply honor my family," answered Baki.
"You won't ask what I intend to do with such power?" she challenged.
Baki was laughing once again. "I was intending to ask for your hand once I won the match, but it seems that won't be happening," he explained. And then he went on, pointing to her falchion. "I'm aware of your circumstances. My men are yours to do with as you wish."
Sakura eyed him, still wary. But then she slowly bowed. Baki bowed in return.
"Please do visit my city if you have a chance. You will always be welcome," Baki said. He bowed again before he strode off.
The audience spilled into the yard, gushing compliments. Gaara, surprisingly, was the one to push through his many relatives.
"Are you unhurt?" he fretted. Wincing when he saw the scratches on her hands and arms.
"I'm fine. This is nothing," Sakura assured him.
Kankuro grabbed Gaara by the arm and pulled him away.
"Let her wash up before you smother her, little brother," Kankuro chuckled. And then he dispersed the rest of the crowd, promising that they could fawn over her later. He tossed her a wink over his shoulder as he led them away.
Only Temari was left at her side. Sakura glanced over at her. Temari looked right back. And in a rare display of affection, Sakura reached out to hook her pinky with Temari's.
It was an old gesture. Little girls linked their hands this way on the market streets, their bare shoulders blushing under the sun's touch as they ran through the narrow alleys. Temari stiffened a little. But she stole a glance at the woman beside her. The softness in that gaze relaxed her. She returned the gesture, her finger tightening slightly.
There was a soft tremble in Sakura's chest as she took a deep breath. The garden at the oasis was beautiful, spreading deep green tendrils across the damp sands. Even the cacti bloomed bright flowers that tilted up towards the heavens.
But it wasn't the lush red roses or the swaying palm trees that caught her attention. Nor was it the glisten of the crystal waters at her toes.
It was the sky.
A million, billion points of light glowed against the dark blue sky. She suddenly felt a dull ache in her chest as she thought of another sky so far away. The perfume of bright flowers mixing with the salty sea spray. Gentle creaks of wood swaying with the ocean currents. And stars that glittered just like this.
There was a person, hair as dark as the night.
"Do you miss him?"
Temari's question fluttered into her ear, barely above a whisper.
The cool desert air touched her eyelids. Drowning out the crickets and the dry whistle of the winds, Sakura took a deep breath. She quieted her breaths: breathed in the nose and out through the mouth. She listened, listening carefully until her steady inhale and exhale became the crash of the ocean waves against the shore. Her heart pounded in time to the tides, squeezing and pulling against her ribcage. The exhilaration of her spar faded, leaving a soft emptiness in its absence.
And she remembered the shape of a smile that she had traced countless times with her eyes. And then with her fingers. There was the sound of him slowly turning pages in a book. And sometimes, rarely, when he was so engrossed that nothing could pull him from his reading, he would flip back to a previous passage, forehead wrinkling. Deep in thought, he would touch his thumb to his lower lip as his eyes scanned the words.
Sakura was inordinately fond of all of these things. Her mind wandered to him often in her free time. If she tried hard enough, she could even remember their conversations. The lilt of his soft-spoken words, the quirk of his eyebrow at her stronger opinions.
She was still wrapped in the memory of his dark eyes when Kankuro let himself into her room later in the evening. He threw himself into his seat and immediately put his feet up on the table. Scowling, Gaara reached over to push his brother's feet off. But Kankuro slammed his heels back onto the tabletop. The petulance screamed from his every moment.
Sakura glanced away from the window, her black and purple shawl spilling down her shoulders and arms. Her cheeks were rosy from the cool desert winds.
"Am I correct to hear that Prince Baki of the Eastern Sands proposed to you. And you, my dearest, regal Lady, let him walk away without so much as a flirtation?" demanded Kankuro. Temari's eyes narrowed. She slowly uncrossed her arms to grab her spear. Kankuro only snorted at her. His sister was certainly strong but she would never raise her hand against the two younger brothers she treasured so dearly- not even for her beloved Lady Sakura. That didn't stop Temari, however, from staring at him in the most unnerving way possible.
"And if I did, dear cousin?" Sakura returned with perfect nonchalance. Gaara's eyes flitted from his brother to Sakura. When he looked at Temari, she only returned his look with an exasperated sigh.
"Well, My Lady, I am only here to inform you that you have a squandered a potentially valuable resource," sniffed Kankuro. Sakura nodded absently. Folding her arms across her chest, she turned her head back towards the window. Kankuro sighed loudly.
"Lady Sakura, please," he groaned.
Gaara finally seemed to make a decision about the conversation.
"Brother, I believe that Lady Sakura understands the situation quite clearly. There's no need for you to nag her so," Gaara declared. Kankuro caught the edge of Sakura's smile as she quickly turned away from them.
"He's promised us soldiers. Alliances needn't always be rooted in marriage," she informed him.
Kankuro rubbed his temples. "Alright. Fine. We still need weapons, ships to transport all those soldiers, food for them," he mused. And then he ruffled his hands through his hair as he ran the numbers in his head. "Where will we even house all of them? Lady Sakura, this is impossible."
As Kankuro grumbled, he lifted his head to look at her.
And then there was a pause. Kankuro's anger spilled back down his throat.
Perhaps it was the way that the burning lanterns illuminated Sakura's cheek. Or the way that wisps of her short hair clung to her face as they swayed in the breeze. She clasped her hands in front of her, eyes closing as she breathed in the desert night.
And she smiled again. Fleeting. Fading.
Ah, everyone else in the room thought in unison. Her heart is elsewhere. She is elsewhere.
Gaara took a step forward. He reached out, putting his arm around her shoulders. Sakura didn't say anything.
"I hope for a short winter. I want to go home soon," he said in a soft voice.
Her long sigh was the only answer they needed.
The following day, the gentle lethargy in her actions was gone. Sakura was straight-backed and bright-eyed as always. But Gaara followed her with his eyes. He waited for the gaps and pauses in her words. When her gaze was drawn towards the windows, toward the open skies, he felt her longing deep in his chest like an echo. And he smiled to himself.
Once, he leaned over to whisper to his sister: "She's in-"
Temari shushed him. She pinched his cheek. "No need to sound like a gossiping auntie," she scolded him.
"Once… a long, long time ago… there was a woman who sought to swallow the sun."
Itachi blinked hard. He had fallen asleep in a warm patch of sun. Now, the sky was darkening.
He blinked again, trying to bring the world into focus. It took an extra moment for the sound of the rushing ocean waves to filter into his muddled brain. He hadn't understood what Sakura had meant when she once told him that she barely even noticed the sound anymore. He was starting to, now. How when something was always there, you started to lose sight of it completely.
As he sat up, the blood rushed to his head. Swaying, he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself. He must have been asleep for quite some time. When he moved a blanket tumbled off his shoulders.
When he leaned against the table, he noticed a platter of fruit that hadn't been there before. There was also a ceramic jar. When he opened it, he found the dark green sludge Yashamaru prescribed to him. There was a silver spoon inside, as if to reassure him that this was not poison. Although it certainly tasted like it.
It had been months since Sakura's abrupt departure. In that time, her physician had devised a new recovery regimen for him. This foul green substance, Yashamaru insisted, would cleanse the remaining poison from his body. The physician also insisted upon herbal supplements and regular exercise. The walks, according to the doctor, were nowhere near enough to produce enough body heat to cleanse him. He had enlisted the help of several soldiers, who ensured that he was drenched in sweat by the time he finished his daily exercise.
There was a high metallic twang somewhere in the distance.
"This again?"
"Hush. You wanted a story," a woman's voice admonished in return. More twanging now, less discordant. Itachi glanced to the left. The cool breeze washing over him helped clear his fuzzy head. The ocean waves tumbled over one another, silvery-grey and discontent. Dark clouds blotted out the sun, rumbling together in a blanket across the horizon.
Itachi closed his eyes again.
Four notes played, crystal clear.
"Long ago, a woman sought to swallow the sun. Because, you see, she was in love with the moon. And each agonizing day, she spent waiting until darkness chased away the sun so that she could be reunited with her lover. She sang beautiful songs all through the day, calling for her lover to return to her quickly with the dark."
Ah, Itachi finally realized, This is Lady Kurenai speaking.
Sakura's aunt was so reclusive that he hardly glimpsed her. She was always pleasant whenever he encountered her. But this was the first time he had heard her speak so many words. She had a pleasant voice. The rhythm of her words sounded a little like Sakura's. Or perhaps Sakura sounded like her.
"So one night, she conspired with the moon to remove the sun from the sky," Kurenai continued.
"A brilliant plan, really. Practical," Sasori's voice drawled to interrupt. Kurenai laughed softly.
"Be-have. The moon knew that they could not remove the sun by force. So the woman devised a plan. As the sun came over the horizon that morning, she would swallow it whole. And do you know what happened to her?"
There was a soft pause.
And then there was a string of notes- delicate and clear. Itachi opened his eyes. He turned his head to the side just in time to see the wooden neck of a stringed instrument. The glint of Sasori's signet ring gave him away as the fingers lazily running up and down the strings. Itachi stretched his neck to gaze over at the other pavilion drifting in the waters.
Lady Kurenai sat, her fingers pulling purple petals of lavender off the long stalks. Sasori lay on the floor. His head rested among the folds of her long dress in her lap. Kurenai pressed the pieces of lavender onto his skin. Sasori strummed at the strings of his instrument a few more times before he set it down on his stomach.
"The woman climbed up high into the heavens using the tallest palm tree. But as she scooped up the sun to swallow it down, the light burned her throat. Her beautiful song withered into silence, if I remember correctly," answered Sasori. Smiling, Kurenai pressed more lavender onto his forehead. There was some sort of oil on his face that made the petals stick. She massaged his temples with her fingertips.
"That is so, my dear. And what do we learn from the woman who swallowed the sun?" she then prompted.
"That devotion, no matter how beautiful or noble, always involves sacrifice," answered Sasori, his voice suddenly soft.
Kurenai bent over to press a kiss to the top of Sasori's head.
"My dearest boy, your sufferings have yet to multiply. Be brave," she sighed.
Itachi turned his head to stare out at the restless waters. Kurenai's whispered words lingered in his ears. Eyes sliding shut again, Itachi breathed deeply and felt the soreness in his arms and legs ebb and flow like the waves.