Amaryllis
Act Two
Chapter 17
A flower for me
"Are you alright?"
Naruto jerked upright in the pew. The cool air stung his dry eyes. He dragged the back of his wrist along his face for a moment. When he pressed hard enough, he saw little spots of color against the inside of his eyelids.
He squinted at the shape speaking to him. Light filtered in through the colored glass in the temple windows. The shards were blue, red, and gold. They scattered broken rainbows across the stone floors without brightening the room completely.
But then the high priestess took a step forward. She landed in a ray of rose-colored light. Her hands folded together in front of her. The edges of her long purple sleeves swallowed up her hands.
A panicked noise slipped out of his lips as he tried to sit up straighter.
"Ah, yes. I mean- sorry. Was I- am I in the way?" he rattled out as he dragged his hands through his messy hair. But the stubborn spikes slipped through his fingers. They stuck up in any way they pleased.
The priestess took another step forward. A smile touched her lips as she extended a hand to him. In this new slant of light, he caught a glimpse of her milky, unmoving irises. Her eyes turned upward, although her smile was for him.
"That voice. You must be our young Prince Naruto," she said.
Naruto took her hand in his. Her narrow fingers were cool against his palm. He pressed the back of her hand against his lips. The scent of incense hung heavy over every inch of her skin. Slowly, he released her, pads of his fingers sliding against her knuckles.
"And you're the…uh…" he stumbled over his words.
"The High Priestess. Most people address me as such, but you may call me Hinata," she interrupted, ending his fumbling.
Naruto looked down at his feet for a moment. When he looked up again, she was tucking some of her hair behind her ear. The slide of her clean nails against her dark hair entranced him.
It was like lightning had struck him at that precise moment, wiping out any other thought in his head. The shy curl of her smile. The soft lilt of her voice. They seared into his brain.
"It…it's great to meet you," Naruto heard himself say.
"Are you alright, Lady Sakura?"
Sakura squinted against the rays of the morning sun. The heavy fabric wrapped over her hair and neck shielded her from the worst of the heat. Sweat gathered in her hairline. Droplets scattered down the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades.
A warm drop wormed its way down her throat, sliding down her chest.
Her gaze blurred as it adjusted to the glaring light. She finally made out Gaara's fuzzy silhouette seated atop his camel. He was just as wrapped up in various cloths to protect his skin. There was a small strip of red across the bridge of his nose. The fabric just failed to cover his skin completely. Freckles begun to spread across his face; little kisses from the sun.
Sakura smiled at him under her muslin veil. It draped across her nose and cheeks, covering everything from her neck to just below her eyes. She knew that he wouldn't be able to see her mouth, but he could see her eyes squint into half-moons.
She hadn't expected their trek across the desert to be so slow. Sakura was accustomed to the frantic thunder of horseshoes against packed earth. The wind was always cold, whistling past her ears, sharp and stinging at her cheeks. Her thighs had grown powerful, molding against the trembling back of her steed. Even as she thrust and parried her sword, her muscles had held her down with a firm grip.
But now she felt helpless on the back of an ill-tempered camel. It glared at her from underneath long, long eyelashes. She tried her best not to take offense to this, as the beast seemed to eye everyone with the same obvious disdain. The layers of fabric on its back made it bearable to sit upright as the creature trudged through the desert. Just bearable. The lack of leather straps and places for her to hold on made her hands clench and unclench at each jolt and bump.
The trouble was that Sakura had nothing to do. Her hands curled around the reins. But the guides at the front of the caravan led the camels along in some invisible but sure path. Now all she could do was stare down at the sunburn along the backs of her hands.
"Shall we ask to stop so we can rest in the shade, Lady Sakura?" Kankuro called out to her from a couple camels ahead in the line. He had raised the cowl of his outer shirt to cover the lower half of his face. Lowering it for a moment, he flashed her a smile.
"I'm quite alright," Sakura insisted.
Seated behind him were Suigetsu and Mangetsu, who she would have mistaken as corpses had Mangetsu not moved.
They had come to her not too long after a letter had arrived from Princess Mei of the Terumi family. Slipped right past the guards and in through her window.
Sakura noticed only when Kankuro nearly upset the table when he jumped. Temari brandished her spear, glaring. "You can't just enter a lady's room like this," she growled.
And Suigetsu had smirked as he replied, "But the lady's dogs can."
Sakura didn't understand why the brothers had insisted upon accompanying her during this trip. She would have been fine with them resting at the Diamond Oasis until she returned.
"I hate this!" Suigetsu reminded her, not for the first time that day.
"Yes, Suigetsu. I'm aware," she replied as she reached for the wineskin. Just to wet her throat for a moment.
The sun was a punishing force on top of her head. Even drinking from the skins hooked onto the sides of her saddle did little to help the heat. But she stole a glance at Temari riding the camel behind her. Temari's shoulders slouched. Her spear rested against her left shoulder. The sharpened point almost skimmed the tops of the highest piles of sand. She barely jostled with each step the animal took.
Further up ahead, Kankuro lounged against the hump of his camel. There were several carpets rolled up and bound to the back of his saddle. He lay on these, his arms crossed behind his head and his headscarf pulled low to cover his face.
For these two, this was a method of travel that they still remembered. Temari and Kankuro were old enough to recall a childhood roaming these sands. Only Gaara was too young to remember. And only Gaara, too, seemed to struggle to find something to occupy his time, just like she did.
The caravan spent eight days stomping across the dunes.
They stopped late in the morning before the sun grew too hot. The guides Prince Ebizo had hired took care of everything without being asked. They set up tents with wooden poles they drove deep into the sand. They draped heavy sections of cloth over these structures to block out the heat. It was much cooler inside one of these shelters. They waited for the withering heat of the midday sun to pass before they resumed travel.
Once the sun began to set, they set up camp. As soon as light faded from the sky, so did the warmth. Sakura learned quickly that the desert was also bitterly cold. One tent was just large enough for the entire party to share a meal. They sipped from wineskins that grew lighter with each passing day. The dried figs had an odd texture, but the sweetness was a welcome treat.
When it was time for bed, the guides slipped out into their own tent. Together with her cousins, and her two guards, Sakura settled in for the night. Kankuro and Temari slept closer to the mouth of the tent. Temari's hand always rested on the handle of her spear. She took to occasionally kicking her brother when he rolled too close to her. Gaara often curled up against Sakura's side for warmth.
At first, Kankuro balked at the idea of the two mercenaries sharing quarters with them.
But Suigetsu had yawned at the prospect of laying hand on either lady. "Both would behead me if I so much as breathed indecently. It's too hot to think of wasting energy like that," he said, flapping a dismissive hand at Kankuro.
Suigetsu and Mangetsu laid directly at the entrance. Where even the lightest stir of footsteps sent one of them slipping out past the canvas. In the end, Sakura and her cousins barely even noticed their presence. By dawn, the mercenaries were already gone- their bedrolls folded and ready for travel.
At night, sand-battered and weary, they fell asleep with little conversation. The odors of dust and sweat lingered inside the tent each night. Staring up at the ceiling, Sakura wondered how people had thrived in a harsh world for so long.
"Can't we move faster?" Sakura sighed one night. Kankuro's eyes were already closed. But when Temari nudged him with her foot, he sighed.
"We could pick up the pace, Lady Sakura. But camels die quickly under such strain. These men want their animals to live for a long time so they treat them with care. Consider these camels a precious 20-year investment," he mumbled. His words slurred together as sleep pulled at him.
There was a long silence. Sakura was certain that he had fallen asleep. But then Kankuro broke the quiet again.
"Should I still ask, Lady Sakura? I'm certain that they would make an exception for your sake," he queried.
Suddenly feeling embarrassed by her selfishness, she turned onto her side. Gaara slumbered without a care in the world. She ran her thumb along his dark, thick eyelashes and watched him shift a little.
"No need," she answered.
As they drew closer to their destination, Sakura eyed the heavy baskets on each camel's back.
"Why bring these?" she attempted to ask one of the guides during a break. The man's face pinched as he considered her words. When she patted one of the baskets, his wrinkled face lit up. He clucked his tongue while pointing towards their destination.
"A woman like her, you must shower with gifts. She is of the old ways. One does not enter a home with empty hands," warned the older man.
By the time they reached the little city in the wilderness, Sakura had ideas. She had imagined several times what this daughter of the Terumi family was like. What she hadn't thought to expect, however, was just one woman standing at the city gate.
There were no guards flanking her. She wore a simple brown shawl to shield the top of her head from the sun.
"Welcome, my kin, to our humble city. We are all honored by your presence," she announced in a soft, clear voice. As she bent to one knee in a bow, Sakura lowered her head on reflex. When Mei rose to her full height, Sakura could see that the other woman was much taller. Her shawl twisted around to cover the lower half of her face. Sakura could see the ghost of her lips moving behind the fabric.
"You have come a long way. Please, allow me to lead you to my home," she continued. The ends of her dark blue dress swished across the coarse sand as she turned. As the caravan followed her, Sakura pulled Gaara close by the elbow to whisper into his ear.
"This is the eldest daughter of the Terumi family?" she questioned. Gaara nodded, though his gaze also darted warily to the woman's back.
"She's unexpectedly..." Gaara mused.
"Subdued," interjected Kankuro in an equally quiet voice as he ducked his head between them.
"Do you suppose it's a ploy?" Temari wondered without turning around to look at them.
"What would be the purpose of that?" scoffed Kankuro. Temari glanced back for a moment to glare at him.
"To lull us into a false sense of security," she snapped in return.
"To do what, then? Attack us? The clan would eviscerate her. They're all about blood ties," Kankuro hissed back.
"It is true that as kinsmen, the Terumi family cannot harm us. It is a code of honor, Lady Sakura. Even more now that she has invited us into her home," agreed Gaara into Sakura's ear. They walked in quiet for several more steps.
There was a light tug on Sakura's elbow. On the opposite side of where Gaara stood. She started a little when she glimpsed Mangetsu peering at her from beneath his hood.
"Your brother?" she asked.
"Checking the perimeter. He will rejoin us shortly," Mangetsu murmured, lips barely moving. His eyes darted around, checking behind her.
Something clicked in Sakura's mind.
Kisame was a mercenary. Hired muscle and steel.
These two brothers, while part of Kisame's band, weren't mercenaries by nature. The way they picked locks and moved silently in the night. They must have been thieves or even assassins before they had crossed paths with the enormous blue man.
"What are your orders?" demanded Mangetsu.
"Observe for the time being," Sakura declared. She knew that when she looked back, Mangetsu would be gone.
The party followed the strange woman past the city gates and through the dusty streets. It was late in the afternoon. The sun had dipped a little lower in the sky. It was cool enough for business to resume after a midday break. The streets were busy with women carrying baskets atop their heads. Men clustered around stalls to haggle over chickens and textiles.
The Terumi family's "palace" was less of a palace and more of a large house. Like every other building, the outside used mud and stone to keep the interior cool. But there was no ornamentation to indicate that someone important lived there. It was just larger than most other abodes. The simplicity was both unexpected and unusual. Mei opened the front doors herself before striding inside.
"I'm back. Some water and perfume for our guests," she called out while whipping her head covering off. The motion sprayed sand across the clean tile floors. Sakura lingered in the entrance for a moment, taking in the room first. Just like the outside, the inside of the building was modest. Only a few large tapestries covered the otherwise drab walls. As Mei spoke, one servant appeared. She gestured with both hands down the left side of the hall before she began walking.
Sakura glanced over at their hostess. Mei was already heading off into the opposite direction. So she followed the servant into a room furnished with a square wooden table and several padded mats. The servant bowed before she exited without another word.
Yanking his cowl down, Kankuro puffed out a large breath. He wrinkled his nose.
"This is... not what I expected," he commented as he looked around the dim room. The oil lamp on the table didn't do much to illuminate the space. Temari huffed too as she shed her outer layers of fabric and shook her hair free. She wiped at a smudge on Gaara's cheek, ignoring his impatient squirm.
"Please, our princess asks that you use this time to rest and to refresh yourselves. The evening meal will be served in two hours precisely," a veiled woman said, kneeling in the doorway. Everyone jolted at the sudden presence. Somehow, she had managed to soundlessly bring a golden bowl and matching pitcher.
Sakura sighed, long, low, and soft. As her gaze turned to the window, she reached into the folds of her cloak. She pulled out a wineskin still warm from the sun.
Slowly, she tugged at one end of the knot on her neck. The fabric slackened, falling across her eyes. And then, the veil tumbled free of her face, whisking the dry scent of the desert past her nose. She took her time drinking, gaze never leaving the sight of the street outside. A line of little girls trailed after their mother. They were little ducklings in a row, each holding a basket of laundry atop their heads.
"You should rest, Lady Sakura. It's been a long journey," murmured Gaara. Kankuro settled onto a padded mat in the corner with a groan.
"Perhaps," Sakura replied without hearing. She drummed her fingers against her thigh as she thought. Only when someone touched her knee did she finally tear her eyes from the window.
Gaara set the bowl down at her feet. He poured from the pitcher, filling it with clean water. Pushing his sleeves up past his elbows, he began unknotting the laces of her sandals.
Her feet were ashy and caked with layers upon layers of dust. They resembled those of a corpse more than anything else. But until Gaara pulled her shoes off and held her left foot in his hands, she didn't realize how much they ached. The ceaseless spray of stinging sand against her skin had worn it down.
He lowered her foot into the basin. The dust melted off her skin, swirling in the waters until it turned everything muddy brown. And as the filth left her feet, they both saw the tiny cuts in her skin from where the leather sandals had chafed her skin. There were tiny cuts too, from where maybe a small rock had struck her. His hands moved, gentle, massaging her feet. He cleaned between even her toes. And he washed her other foot with the same diligence.
It had grown oddly quiet in the room.
The silence was only broken when the veiled servant stepped forward with a clean towel. Gaara spread it out in his lap before he placed her feet there and began patting them dry. The servant knelt beside him, staring at him for a long moment.
"With all respect... typically it is the job of the servants to do such an unclean task. You too are a guest here, sir," she informed him. But Gaara never took his eyes off Sakura's feet. Even when they were clean, he let them sit in his lap for a moment longer. When he lifted his head, Sakura was also watching him.
"Who would I trust to honor the feet of my lady as I would?" he asked in return. Sakura held his gaze for a long time. Her palm cupped his cheek for a moment before her hand slipped away.
The servant proceeded to wash the feet of everyone else in the room. Sakura leaned her head against the windowsill to listen to the chatter of life outside. No matter where she went, no matter what the language was, the chaos of the marketplace was home. It brought her back to easier days of receiving sun-warmed mangoes. Only now, those memories included the feeling of a hand grasping hers.
"Please enjoy your rest," the servant said before she exited. Sakura blinked. She had fallen asleep for what had felt like a significant time. But Kankuro was still talking with Temari in the corner. Gaara's head rested in her lap but his eyes were wide open. Feeling her stir, Gaara's eyes drifted to her, the color of unpolished jade.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
She considered this for a long time. Answering him with a smile, she pinched his cheek, just a little.
"Of course," she assured him.
"Use my weight against me!" the instructor shouted.
A chorus of laughter rose as the world spun underneath him. Itachi landed on his back with a hard thud. The gathered mercenaries guffawed even as several of them approached to offer him a hand. Itachi accepted one, letting them pull him to his feet. He winced, pressing his hand to his left shoulder.
"Maybe I was too rough with you, Prince," wondered the instructor.
"Not a problem, Teach! This one's tougher than he looks," Kisame shouted back. He let out another roaring laugh as he clapped Itachi on the back with his massive hand.
"Well, if he can learn to throw a man half as well as he can be thrown, there's hope for him yet," sighed the instructor.
There was another explosion of mirth among the men.
"No doubts, Prince. You're filling out already," boomed Kisame as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"I appreciate your help, but are you entirely certain that this is necessary?" inquired Itachi. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and saw blood. He wiped again. But it did little to help. Cuts and scrapes dotted his hands. And any place that wasn't cut seemed to bruise instead.
"Your Highness did ask to be made stronger. I don't know of any faster way than to have the weakness beaten out of you," shrugged Kisame. To emphasize his point, he rolled up his sleeve to show off the jagged scars on his wrists.
"Broke out of chains with my bare hands. Swam for almost an hour until I reached land," he explained. Any hint of a smile wiped from Itachi's face at that. Yet Kisame appeared unbothered as he continued with his toothy grin.
"Have heart, Prince. We'll make a rugged man out of you yet!" Kisame grunted. He clapped him once on the shoulder again before he swaggered off. A servant approached with a towel. Itachi accepted it with thanks, wiping the sweat and dirt off his face and the back of his neck.
"Should I ask for the physician?" the servant queried.
"There's no need. I will see him later myself," answered Itachi. The servant bowed.
"She'll hate this. I'm telling you. She would kill me if she knew I was standing by and watching this."
Itachi turned to face Ino, who winced as she looked over his collection of injuries. Itachi nodded to her, grimacing as he discovered a gash on the palm of his hand. He wrapped the towel around it.
"She wouldn't kill you, Lady Ino," Itachi assured her.
Ino sighed, eyes rolling. "Alright, no, she wouldn't kill me. She'd just stare at me. And the guilt would kill me," she amended.
Itachi chuckled at that. He rubbed the corner of his mouth. His hand came away wet with more blood. He looked over as he saw Ino fumble in her pockets. She pulled out a fine silk handkerchief. He thanked her as he used it to dab the blood away.
"A prince such as yourself has little to fear. I don't understand why you spend so much time being assaulted. It's the job of other people to protect you," she pointed out.
Itachi thought that over. When he regarded Ino again, it was with a sad sort of smile.
"Lady Ino, I was told my entire life that I would never be strong enough to ride a horse. Or to travel. I was warned that I might not even live past 20," he told her. Ino's face softened. She had been there at the meeting. She knew the truth behind his poor health.
"It turns out that I could have been strong enough. I just…" Itachi trailed off, looking down as he clenched and unclenched his injured hand. His knuckles were covered in scratches. His hand squeezed into a fist. Stayed that way. "I've wasted enough time being deceived. I need to be better from now on."
He had remembered Sakura explaining once. Because she was smaller and lighter than most of her opponents, she had learned a way to use that to her advantage. Her combat techniques relied on speed and maintaining balance. Stronger opponents were weighed down by their muscle. Fortunately, this was a speciality of the Southern Tea Isle. The servants had been more than happy to find a teacher for him. And even Count Maito was eager to provide pointers whenever he dropped in for business.
It had been about a month since Itachi had begun his lessons. Each session seemed to consist of him being beaten up. His body ached. He didn't feel himself moving any faster.
"Persistence," Count Maito had assured him was, "the key to growth."
As Itachi rubbed his hands together, he let out a sigh.
"I'm just… I've grown tired of feeling…" he trailed off.
"Helpless," Ino supplied.
His eyes widened. It was like she had read his mind. She gestured at herself with a fan.
"It's not like I can't sympathize," she added.
They exchanged a smile. Ino's face was the first to change as the conversation processed in her brain. She gestured to Itachi's injured hand.
"It's not for her," Ino realized.
Itachi let out a sheepish laugh as he clenched his hand into a fist again. "It's for me," he confirmed.
A passing serving girl spotted the bloody towel wrapped around Itachi's hand. She stopped with a gasp.
"My Lord. That…" she seemed at a loss for words.
Itachi looked down. "Oh. Yes. Would you send word to Yashamaru that I'm on my way," he requested.
"Right away, My Lord," she answered before hurrying off. In her rush, she nearly collided with a chest.
"My apologies!" she squeaked, bowing low.
"It's alright. You seem to be busy. Don't let me stop you," Count Hatake said, waving her off. The girl bowed once before she went ahead.
Kakashi watched the frantic servant rush on before he continued walking. He glimpsed Prince Itachi chatting with Lady Ino. They were chuckling about something. When his eyes met Ino's, they exchanged bows. Before Itachi could turn around, he continued walking. He wasn't particularly interested in speaking with the visiting prince. And he had an appointment.
Sasori was in a meeting when he arrived. The steward apologized and offered to bring him a refreshment. Kakashi didn't decline. So instead, he sat in one of the pavilions, listening to the lap of the waves against the sides of the room.
Kakashi took a single sip of his unsweetened tea. He then leaned back in his seat, fingertips tenting together. When he looked all around the palace, he could hear the memory of Sakura's voice in his ear.
Kakashi. That's a good name.
She had known of him by then. After all, Kakashi had been a shadow in his father's footsteps then. For years, he had watched the way a count was supposed to serve under a duchess. Sakura had always chatted merrily with his father, Sakumo. When she was a child, it had been about idle facts about the state of the island, the weather. As she grew, as that posture stiffened and the roundness in her face faded, she talked strategy. She talked of politics and war.
But Sakumo had withered away, and his mother had died giving birth many years ago. Kakashi was alone. And alone the duties of the count had fallen upon him.
"Kakashi, will you be as good to me as your father was?"
"Of course," he had promised her.
"Even if it leads to ruin?"
He hadn't had an answer for that. Still didn't.
He thought back harder, eyebrows knitting as he worked to bring all the pieces of her together.
When she was a girl, she had often marveled at the uniforms of the high-ranking officers that visited.
"Father, there are different colors," she had whispered, tugging at the King Consort's fingers. And the King Consort let out a deep chuckle. Lifting her up on his left arm, he gestured to one of the officers.
"The army, do you see? It's green. And the navy wears gray. Only the officers get to wear white," he explained.
Kakashi listened too, his eyes fixated on the men and their pressed clothes. He had often admired his own father's uniform. The count was too old for battle now, but it was still on display in their home.
"But Father, why do only some people get to wear white? That's not fair," remarked Sakura. The rules of sharing and equality were clear. The Queen had explained them quite explicitly. But Jiraiya only sighed as he stared at the uniforms too.
"White is the most visible on the battlefield. Easier to hit, don't you think?"
He recalled her, just a year after the end of the war. Her scars were still healing in raw patches under her clothes. The dry, rough strands on her head had finally started to regain their sheen. Her dress did nothing to hide the bandages around her arms and middle.
She was beautiful; there was no denying that. Her mother's face shone through in the curl of her smile, the light in her eyes. As she spoke, her hands moved through the air. It terrified him. How much she resembled her mother. And how much she sounded like her aunt, who had swept her under her wing like a trembling baby bird.
In other ways, she was her father. After time in the military academy, her shoulders seemed to be forever pulled back. There was a proud urgency in her gait that pulled her along in brisk strides. She always seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere these days. The arms of her white jacket were always empty. As if putting her hands through them would burn her. She draped the garment across her shoulders, brass buttons and fastenings gleaming proudly.
Medals of all shapes and sizes cluttered the left side of her jacket. The newest was a proud gold lion holding an arrow in its teeth. For distinguished services and exceptional loyalty to the crown. (Lord Sasori had remarked upon the irony of such an award with bitterness for quite some time. Kakashi almost wanted to laugh with him.) Next to it was a silver diamond shape with a real diamond gem set in the center for bravery in combat. They clattered against each other each time she took her jacket on and off.
She often wore silk dresses underneath or skirts that trailed after her like a white river. Paired with her laced black boots, it was an odd contrast. Some of the daughters of the servants tied bells with blue threads to the buttons of her jacket. It was an old island legend that the sounds of bells would attract good spirits.
18, she was still filling out in the ways that would make her recognizably a woman. Sakura had the gangly imbalance of a child teetering on the cusp of adulthood. And yet these were the clothes and this was the skin she wore under them. Her smiles tight and her dress pulled low, she allowed the eyes of men to rove shamelessly over her.
They thought themselves predators; saw her as a prize to be won. But the tip of her finger always dragged over the hilt of her sword. Tracing the swirling patterns engraved into the once-molten metal. And poison whipped out with her words without warning. It was usually around then that all those foolish men learned that they were, in fact, the prey, and she the predator. A wild thing that could not be caged behind the thickest bars.
Kakashi had always thought it fitting that she came from a family of roses. Covered in thorns that would make it impossible for anyone to pluck her.
Kakashi knew that he was different from Gai. Gai loved Sakura as a doting uncle. He also saw all she did for the people of the island and looked upon her with additional fondness.
Not Kakashi.
Just because the young duchess had yet to show her fangs didn't mean that they weren't there. He feared her. As he feared all of the Haruno family. After all, he had witnessed firsthand their capacity for cruelty. And he knew even better to keep his mouth shut about all these things.
Sasori arrived soon after.
"Count Hatake, I've kept you waiting. My apologies," Sasori greeted him as he took a seat.
Kakashi took a deep breath before he met the Admiral's eyes. "Of course, you must be busy, Lord Sasori. I understand."
Terumi Mei sat cross-legged at a simple wooden table. When she heard the door open, she waved a hand. A servant scrambled to gather all her documents up in a mountain and hauled it out of sight.
"Please excuse my mess," she greeted them She gestured toward the cleared spaces before she replaced her pipe in her mouth. This almost seemed like a different woman from the one who had greeted them at the gate. She sounded so… personable.
Sakura felt the tug of Gaara's fingers pinching her clothes. And so, taking a deep breath, she strode into the room and sat across from the woman.
"You must all be exhausted. Thank you for journeying all the way here, Cousins," Mei went on. She gave a friendly look to Temari, Kankuro, and then Gaara.
Sakura felt herself softening a little. Anyone who treated her family with such respect couldn't be so awful.
Mei clapped her hands twice. Servants appeared from nowhere, carrying trays heavy with food and drinks. "Please help yourselves. We are honored to host you," she declared as the servant began serving their meal.
The food was simple but well-prepared. The prickly pear, in particular, was ripe and sweet. The juice burst into Sakura's mouth when she bit down.
"You have a lovely home," Kankuro commented, ever the silver tongue.
But Mei gave him a wry smile. "I'm sure it's pitiful in your eyes. It's kind of you to say so," she replied.
Kankuro persisted. "Oh no. There's a charm to this place. The tapestries look quite… nice…" He trailed off as he felt Sakura nudge him with her elbow.
"Your home is quite small. And…" Sakura said instead. Kankuro's mouth opened, the horror spreading across his face.
"Quaint," Temari concluded.
Kankuro grabbed his sister's forearm, his eyes pleading.
But Mei laughed. Fingers trailing through her auburn hair.
"It is, isn't it?" she agreed. She sighed, glancing around the room. And then she smiled as her gaze returned to Sakura.
"And yet it's mine. So I love it anyway," Mei then declared.
"I think I know what you mean," Sakura responded.
"Prince Ebizo tells me that you might be in search of some weapons. I have spoken to my blacksmiths. They've been preparing samples for you, cousin. I do hope that they are to your liking," Mei then explained. Sakura dipped her head. Mei returned the gesture.
The conversation was less awkward from then on. Mei asked questions about their stay at the Diamond Oasis. Then, about Plumeria. She was, unsurprisingly, interested in how the palace sat mostly in the ocean. In turn, Sakura asked questions about this city.
Mei's city was called Hilal. It was the shape of a crescent moon, curving around the iron mine that descended into the sands. It was a modest settlement. More of a town than a city. Not that Sakura would insult her hostess by saying as much. The sands here were more reddish than yellow. There was no great oasis to supply the settlement with water. Instead, the city relied on wells that pulled from aquifers, drawing water from deep under the sands.
"Agriculture must be a challenge," Sakura observed.
"Nearly impossible. The soil is as barren as it appears. The only thing it gives birth to is iron," agreed Mei. And then she offered to take them on a tour of the mines the following morning. Sakura thanked her, already intrigued by the prospect. But despite Mei's obvious attempt to divert the conversation, she had to ask one last thing.
"If the soil is so infertile, how do your people eat?" Sakura questioned.
The corners of Mei's mouth curled up. She raised her cup to her lips. Paused. Looked to Sakura. "I… make arrangements. You've heard the rumors of my reputation, I expect." She sipped her drink then.
Sakura suddenly found it hard to look at Mei. She looked to Temari instead. And Temari didn't seem to know what sort of expression to put on her face either.
"I thought that was just jealous slander," Sakura finally answered.
Mei shook her head. "Men are simple. They're willing to trade so many things for one night with a woman of power and beauty."
"But… how could you…" Sakura couldn't finish her thought. Fortunately, Mei seemed to understand her half-formed question.
"Chastity will not fill my stomach. Chastity will not chase off the vultures from circling when dead bodies begin to pile up," Mei stated. Not unkindly. She did give Sakura a pointed look as she added, "Besides, who decided that a woman's pride lies between her legs? Whatever the rumors, I am still a princess."
Later that night, Temari sat on the floor near the metal fireplace in the center of their shared bedroom. She polished the point of her spear in even, patient strokes.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Temari asked after a long time. Sakura sat with her back to her, staring unseeingly at the window. She wore her cloak over her thin nightgown, coarse brown fabric clashing against the thin linen.
Sakura was quiet for a long time. But Temari waited. She had grown accustomed to these extended silences. After the war, Sakura always seemed to take more time to gather her words. As if the thoughts in her head were tangled together.
"Do you admire her, Temari? Or do you pity her?" wondered Sakura.
Their hostess was clever and well-spoken. She was beautiful, as well as practical. Most importantly, she carried herself with dignity despite her simple clothes and her simple meals. She had all the elements of a good ruler. And yet…
"Do I ever sound like that, Temari?" she finally inquired. Temari set her rag down. Eyes sharp, she turned her head fully to look at her.
"Like what?" Temari asked.
Sakura bit her lower lip.
"Sad. Empty?" she wondered.
Temari let out a long sigh. Leaning her spear against her shoulder, Temari squeezed her hands together.
"Sometimes. When you talk about the Regent and his family… or when you're hurt… but you don't want to express it," she admitted through gritted teeth.
Sakura almost laughed. It just came out as a huff before she asked, "Am I so transparent?"
Temari shook her head. "It's only because I learned from Aunt Kurenai as well."
There was a heavy silence in the room for a very long time. And then Sakura turned to look at Temari, her eyes dry.
"Thank you for being honest with me, Temari."
But when Sakura smiled, Temari didn't return the expression.
"What is it?" asked Sakura.
"Why do you continue to pursue this, Lady Sakura? All it does is make you miserable," wondered Temari. Sakura knew Temari would never question her like this in front of others. In fact, it was rare for Temari to ever question her at all. She didn't mind, though. This wasn't an answer she had to conjure. It already lived inside of her, flowing through thoughts, her every breath.
"I'll take misery to my chambers, for it is my bridegroom," answered Sakura. Her hand clenched as she got to her feet. "I'll lie with it in my grave if I must. As long as I have what is mine."
The meeting with the Terumi family's blacksmiths went well. They were as gifted as Mei had suggested. The old models of weapons were well-balanced and sharp. But as they went through the samples, Sakura could see that something was missing.
"Spears?" Mei repeated, her head tilting.
Sakura sketched a model on a piece of parchment. The blacksmiths leaned over it to ask questions, gesturing to the handle and asking about dimensions. They promised to work quickly. They bowed a dozen times as they walked out carrying the cask of wine Sakura had gifted to them.
As they waited for the blacksmiths to work, Kankuro and Gaara explored the market. And after a few days of resting, Sakura agreed to join them. While it looked different to what they had back home, a market was still a market. And Kankuro seemed obsessed with making notes in his tiny journal as they walked around.
"What could be so fascinating about chickens?" Sakura wondered as she leaned in close to Gaara.
"Ah, big brother is keeping record of market prices and trade practices. I don't quite understand all of it. He says that it's crucial for us to be aware of how other cities manage their trade," Gaara responded. Sakura only smiled at him.
"Lady Sakura?"
She reached out and patted his cheek.
"When did you grow up, my little cousin? How intelligent you've become," she only remarked. Then, taking his hand, she pulled him along to catch up with Temari and Kankuro.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Gaara tugged Sakura's hand a little.
"We should find a tavern to settle in until the noon sun passes, Lady Sakura . It appears that many stores will be closing soon," he mentioned. Temari and Kankuro turned to look at them.
"I'm supposed to meet a merchant somewhere down this road to discuss prices. Gaara, why don't you help Lady Sakura find a place to rest. We will join you shortly," Kankuro suggested, looking to Temari. She nodded.
Gaara hesitated. But Sakura squeezed his hand.
"That sounds like an excellent plan. We won't stray far from this area," Sakura replied. With a wink, Kankuro headed down the road, Temari on his heels. He turned his head to say something to her. She responded by knocking him in the shin with the butt of her spear.
"Any suggestions, Gaara?" Sakura asked. He looked around the streets, which were rapidly emptying as people fled the sun.
"If I remember correctly, there is a place that is famous for its spicy lamb around here. Would that suit your tastes, Lady Sakura?" he suggested. When she nodded, Gaara led the way down the narrow road. There were already several empty stalls.
But as they walked, they saw at least one merchant's stall that hadn't closed for the midday break yet. And the only reason Sakura even noticed this was that she heard a man scream. She was reaching into her cloak for a concealed knife before she could even see what was happening.
As they approached, she saw a person dashing towards her. The glint of sunlight off metal alerted her to a weapon. Sakura's hand shot out, closing tightly around the forearm of a boy. He was wiry and covered in dust. He hissed something at her that Sakura couldn't quite hear over the merchant's shouts.
"Thief! Little rat!" the man shouted as he pointed a fat finger at the child in Sakura's hold. She child flailed his knife around but Sakura's grip was too tight for him to inflict any damage.
Despite Gaara's quiet protests, Sakura dragged the boy closer to the merchant's stand. The man brandished a bloodied hand as he continued to point at the child. It looked like there was a shallow cut running through part of his palm.
"What happened here?" she demanded in the loud, clear voice she'd developed on the battlefield. The man's mustache and beard seemed to bristle.
"This street rat robbed me and stabbed me with his knife!" he thundered. The boy scrambled to stuff something into the back of his shirt. With her free hand, she lifted his shirt up. Part of a loaf of bread tumbled out, bouncing on the packed dirt.
"Ah it's useless to me now!" the man lamented, launching into a loud rant in the background.
Sakura knew the general rules of the desert people rather well after spending some time in the Arids. Thievery was not a crime that was taken lightly. The proper thing to do would be to take him to the local law enforcement. But as she considered, Gaara grabbed her right hand, shaking it furiously to get her attention.
"Lady Sakura, look at him. Look at his face," he pleaded.
Only then did she see that the boy was crying pitifully.
"Please," the boy cried out.
Her hand wavered.
"I was hungry. My little brothers are starving. I'm sorry," he whimpered.
And in the background, the enraged merchant snorted.
But the boy, when she looked closely, was in a ragged old tunic. His clothes were in tatters, threadbare in some places and outright torn in others. How old was he? Why did his wrists feel so sharp in her grasp?
Slowly, Sakura relaxed her left hand. Gaara was still wrapped around her right arm. His shaking breaths weren't much different from hers.
Tears spilled from the boy's eyes, leaving darker trails on his dusty cheeks. He didn't try to slip from her grip.
"Sir," Sakura addressed the merchant without tearing her eyes from the boy.
"How much does this child owe you?" It took a moment, especially with Sakura's accent. But then the man looked down at the boy, calculating in his head.
"He took cheese and one loaf of bread. But he cut my hand as well. 5 silver should do," the man finally replied. Sakura only glanced down at Gaara. Gaara nodded. Satisfied that this was the fair price, Sakura moved to reach inside her cloak. Only then did Gaara release her arm, allowing her to pull a little drawstring bag from inside her clothes. She fished out a gold coin before tossing it to the merchant.
"For your troubles. I don't think this child will be stealing again," Sakura said. And as she spoke, she stared directly into the boy's eyes. More tears spilled down his cheeks as he nodded. The merchant, after biting the coin, only grunted his assent.
"Th-thank you," the boy croaked through his sobs.
But before more words could tumble past his lips, a shadow fell across him. Heads turned to find Princess Mei standing in the alley with them. She took slow steps forward. Her stare took in the merchant wrapping his bleeding palm in a rag. Then she looked to the boy still gripping the stained knife in his shaking hands.
"Little boy, did you steal from this man?" Mei asked in a surprisingly pleasant voice.
The boy's eyes grew to the size of plates. His hand shook so violently that the knife slipped from his hand, clanging noisily to the ground. And after an agonizing wait, the boy nodded his head. Mei looked at the merchant again.
"And sir, were you injured by this child?" Mei interrogated him. Even the merchant shook as he also nodded. But then he gestured towards Sakura.
"But this kind traveler mediated for us, Princess-" the merchant scrambled to say.
"No man, woman, or child is above the law. Guards," Mei interrupted with a flick of her wrist. And two burly men emerged from the shadows behind her, heavy scimitars held in their fists.
"A hand for theft," Mei then recited. As the guards advanced, Sakura seized the boy, pulling him to stand behind her. His feet dragged, sending dust puffing up into the air.
"This is a child," Sakura ground out.
Mei blinked. Her eyes were like two lifeless emeralds glued onto her face.
"So he is. And yet this child has committed a crime," Mei insisted.
"And so you will cut off the hand of a starving child," Sakura spat. She felt the boy's trembling hands clutch the back of her cloak. His whimpers filtered through between each of her words. And she could feel herself shaking too, heat rising up her spine. Sakura stole a glance at him over her shoulder.
The little boy's tears flowed freely down his cheeks and his nose dribbling. Gaara knelt beside him, murmuring as he wiped those tears with his sleeves. Sakura blinked hard, trying her best not to imagine the boy's blood spilling across the ground.
"Of course. It's the only true way to ensure that it won't happen again. And if he's so hungry, that child will surely find a way to earn that money instead of resorting to theft again," Mei scoffed with a wave of her hand.
"But I have already reimbursed the merchant for his troubles. You'll kill a boy over such a tiny infraction?"
"The hand that steals is the hand that is lost. It has always been the law of my land. We cannot overcome the law with money," Mei explained.
As the guards advanced, blades pointed her way, something whisked past. Burying itself into the sand at Mei's feet. Heads turned. Someone screamed about assassins.
"Are you alright, M'Lady? Unharmed?" Mangetsu queried.
The brothers sat on the balcony of a nearby building. Suigetsu nocked another arrow. Mangetsu's sword glinted as he leaned forward.
"I'm alright," Sakura answered.
She started when Suigetsu aimed an arrow right at her. It flew, piercing into the ground between her feet this time.
"Turn around, M'Lady. See that?" Suigetsu said, jerking his chin.
A pouch lay on the sand. Glittering coins spilled from the open mouth. The desert rose of the Haruno family was stitched into the fabric in red thread. And beside the pouch lay the boy, who had stumbled in surprise when the arrow landed so close to him.
Sakura stared at him. Slowly, she felt inside her cloak. She lowered her arms to her sides.
Mei shook her head. "See that, Cousin? Kindness is not the remedy to thievery. You must nip it in the bud." She didn't sound smug. Just… stated it as a fact.
And Sakura stood frozen, blood boiling so hard that she feared it would steam right out of her ears.
"Don't look so sad, M'Lady," Suigetsu called out.
Sakura looked up just in time to see Mangetsu hop down from the balcony. Suigetsu followed. They both landed on their feet like cats.
Suigetsu hung back, but Mangetsu took a few more steps forward. He drew his sword, stepping between Sakura and the city guards.
"We might not be knights, but even we're not going to stand by while someone raises a hand to our client," Mangetsu said, feeling Sakura's stare on his back.
"Looks like you were trying to defend the kid. There's no point," Suigetsu told her. His eyes flickered to the boy. He bared his sharp teeth in a grin. The boy didn't flinch. Suigetsu scoffed.
"Kid's too brave. He's not working alone," Suigetsu confirmed. His gaze flickered back to the crowd of spectators. Sakura looked around, too. She caught a man's eye. He glared back before he turned.
"There!" Sakura barked.
Her voice startled everyone. The child followed her pointing finger. Something in his expression changed, even though he hadn't understood a word of her conversation with these men. He lunged, teeth sinking into her forearm. Mangetsu turned back to her when she yelled. But Suigetsu threw down his bow and arrow as he sprinted into the crowd.
"Lady Sakura!" she heard Kankuro's voice call out. When she looked up, she could see him and Temari pushing their way through the people. Temari brandished her spear when she saw the blood dripping down Sakura's wrist, onto the sand. Sakura held her free hand up to stop him.
A cry rose from the crowd. Feathers went flying, a chicken squawking and flapping its way away from the fray. There was a resounding thud. Then, silence.
A minute later, Suigetsu rose, holding a man by the back of his shirt.
"Caught a big one for you, M'Lady. You wanna gut it-" Suigetsu called out. He smirked down at his prey. "Or should I?"
The little boy's jaw unclenched. He released his hold on Sakura's arm as he yelled, "Baba!" Blood running down his chin, he tried to run to the man. Temari grabbed him before he got two steps.
"Oh… oh no," Gaara whispered as he saw the clear marks the boy's teeth had made in Sakura's skin. The areas around the punctures were already turning purple with bruises. Kankuro hissed between his teeth. He pulled off his scarf to begin binding up the area. It wasn't clean, but at the very least, the bleeding would stop.
Sakura hardly paid attention because she could hear the boy weeping now. The garbled sobs couldn't disguise the way he said "Baba" over and over again. Father. The pieces were coming together now. Especially when the man in Suigetsu's grasp stared at the child, his jaw set. His hate-filled eyes falling on her in silent accusation.
The crowd whispered frantically as Suigetsu dragged the man forward. Mei's guards met him. The searched the man until they found a pouch inside his shirt. When they overturned it, coins and jewels spilled onto the sand. A gasp rose from the spectators.
Temari also forced the boy in front of Mei. When he resisted, the man whispered something. The boy knelt in front of Mei, his eyes fixed on the ground between his knees.
Mei folded her arms across her chest.
"My my," she sighed, "Using your son to steal. What a clever trick."
And then her eyes flickered over to Sakura.
Mangetsu couldn't understand her. All he knew was that this woman's guards had moved towards Sakura with their weapons raised. He stared her down as he took a step to the left, blocking Sakura from view. Sakura pushed him to the side with an impatient noise. Mei almost smiled.
"And, on top of that, assaulting a member of the royal family," Mei added.
The father's eyes widened. They flew back to Sakura. In a simple cloak, she was just another traveler. But he followed Mei's pointing finger, down to the spilled pouch. To the desert rose stitched into the silken fabric. The color drained from his face.
"Haruno," was all he could whisper. The dread seeped through in that one whispered name.
"It is the law of this city that those who harm the nobility shall be put to death," Mei then announced to the crowd. This time, Sakura did not speak out to defend them. Not with the pain that throbbed in her arm with each thud of her heart.
"And, when my cousin defended this child, he stole from her. He shed her blood. Do you deny any of this?" Mei's voice seemed to echo up and down the street.
The man knelt, forehead pressing to the soil. "I do not, Princess," he replied.
Sakura started a little when Mei turned her head to look at her. Mei gave her a sad smile before she gestured with her hand. Sakura turned away as the guards raised their scimitars. The shrieks came before she heard the slice of the blade through the air. And then the smell of metal told her that the deed was done. She didn't realize her hand was shaking until she felt Gaara grasp it. His eyes were filled with tears.
"Forgive me, Lady Sakura. If only I hadn't asked you to intervene," he whispered.
"You thought it was for the best. And so did I," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.
A deep breath in. Out. In. Out. Just as she had always done.
"Hang the bodies in the square. As a warning for all those who might think to break the law again," Mei ordered as she caught up to them. One of the guards grunted a response. Mei laid her hand on Sakura's forearm. The smell of her perfume was heavy and floral.
"This could have all ended with a simple hand being lost. Now, both were put to death," she said.
Temari bristled. "You overstep, Princess. Lady Sakura was harmed as a guest of your city. You sh-"
"She's right, Temari," Sakura spoke up.
"It's unfortunate that you witnessed that. But I hope that you understand," murmured Mei.
Sakura searched for the words. When she looked Mei in the eyes, she nodded. "We must be strong," Sakura stated.
Mei nodded. She moved her hand to clasp Sakura's. "Especially us."
Later that afternoon, a doctor knocked on the door. She was kneeling when Temari opened up.
"Princess Mei bid me to come tend to the General's injury," the woman said. She wore a veil over her face, covering her mouth and nose.
Temari looked over her shoulder. Sakura nodded.
The boy's bite had gouged into her skin. Each groove of his teeth had made a clear mark. Though it was beginning to scab now, it had bled for quite some time.
The doctor shook her head. "This will scar," she warned.
Sakura didn't respond.
"Please do not think poorly of our princess, General," the doctor plead as she began applying some sort of ointment to the most tender sections first. "Before she inherited the city, this was a lawless land. Merchants were afraid to come because they feared for their lives. Now, we are safe. We have food. She has done much for us."
Sakura's eyes didn't leave the window as she replied: "I know."
That night, at supper, Mei apologized once again.
"That was not the side of my city that I wished for you to see."
But rather than linger on this, Sakura recalled what the doctor had said to her. "Why was your city in such poor condition when you first came to power? Wasn't this passed down in your family?"
Mei's goblet touched her lips. Then came back down. Her lipstick left a mark on the shiny surface. She looked from her plate, to Sakura. Red lips pursing and pressing together. Her shoulders slumped as she let out a deep breath.
"Hilal was… it's always been in my family's possession. But… it was not what my mother intended for me," she confessed.
Kankuro, who had been quiet during the meal, spoke up for the first time that night. Wiping his mouth on his napkin, he grimaced. "It was only toward the end of your cousin's reign that they discovered the iron deposits. Before that, it was a worthless city," he spoke up.
Mei's eyebrows rose, but she nodded. "Indeed."
Sakura looked to Kankuro. He went on.
"To the north, that's where the Terumi family's true land lies. The city of Solace," he explained.
Sakura's stare returned to Mei. "Then… why are you here so far removed?" she wondered.
"In a way… banished? Deposed?" Mei said, so matter-of-factly that Sakura almost didn't believe her.
But then Mei shook her head a little. "Both," she decided. And then she refocused her attention on Sakura.
"My stepbrother and his wife feared I would cast him out when my mother passed away. They falsified my mother's will and kindly "gave" me this city so that I could retain my status as a princess. I suppose they were hoping I would starve to death in the wilderness and not cause them trouble. A shame. I hear he's making a mess of things," Mei sighed, waving her hand a little as she spoke.
"No matter. I'm a resilient little weed. I won't be plucked so easily," she commented.
Mei rested her chin on the back of her hand with a smile. "Not so different, are we?" she asked Sakura.
Sakura smiled as she chewed her meal. "I suppose not," she replied.
They left the city of Hilal a week later. Mei didn't have much to offer, but she still insisted upon providing them with gifts. She traded their camels for fresh ones from her personal stables. Mei even saw them to the city gates at dawn.
"You may seek refuge here at any time," Mei greeted them, as was customary. "I've sent word ahead to Prince Baki of your arrival. The accommodations there will be much more than what I've been able to provide."
"We're grateful, nonetheless, Princess Mei. Thank you for breaking bread with us and sharing your roof with us," Sakura gave the traditional response. But before Sakura could slip away, Mei grasped her hands.
"I can see the fire in you, Cousin. I bless you with the wisdom and good wishes left behind by our ancestors. May the winds blow to smooth your path. And may many blessings touch your feet wherever you may go," Mei whispered before she released her.
She turned to Gaara, kissing his forehead. Then Kankuro. Then Temari. Last, she returned to Sakura to place a final kiss to Sakura's forehead before she held her close.
Mei stood at the gates of her humble city. She didn't move from that spot as the caravan began to move over the sands. Even as the outer wall and its black gates grew smaller and smaller. Even when Mei herself was no bigger than a blurred spot of blue, she stood there. Watching them. Until neither of them could see the other.