Are you sure about this, Sukea?"
"Yes."
"I'm nervous. It's my first time doing anything like this."
"And mine." Sukea presses a kiss into the palm of Sakura's hand. "But I trust you."
Sukea reclines onto his back and looks up at her expectantly.
Trembling slightly, Sakura lowers herself over Sukea, her breath softly blowing some loose strands of hair out of his face.
Then she squeaks in mortification as a drop of purple war paint drips onto his nose from the brush that hovers over his face.
"This is going to be horrible, Sukea!" she protests as he laughs, wiping the paint off with the back of his hand. "I've never painted a thing in my life —"
"I'm sure it will turn out beautiful."
"— and I can't paint this on for you every morning," she says crossly.
Sukea smiles gently at her.
"You won't have to," he reminds her patiently. "I'll study it and practice painting it myself."
Sakura twiddles with the brush, her eyes studying his face for the umpteenth time.
As though sensing her hesitation, Sukea holds her hand and rubs his thumb on the inside of her wrist to soothe her pulse.
"When my father was clan heir, his design was a representation of his reason to keep fighting. And a declaration of everlasting friendship and loyalty," he shares.
"To my mother," Sakura says, her eyes lighting up with recognition.
When Sakura was a child, Tsunade showed her a portrait of a young Jiraiya in an effort to stop Sakura from having terrifying nightmares of his red clan tattoos, which had always looked a little too much like blood for Sakura's tastes.
In the portrait, Jiraiya sported a design based on kabuki makeup with one notable addition: a purple diamond in the center of his forehead, to match the gem on the circlet that Tsunade wore until she passed the heirloom down to Sakura on her sixteenth birthday.
"Yes," Sukea confirms. "I want my design to do something similar."
Sakura's eyes gleam.
"A declaration of something everlasting? For me?" she says playfully.
"Yes," Sukea admits, threading his fingers through her hair. "And so that I can have you with me, wherever I go."
The highest points of Sakura's cheekbones glow a warm pink.
"Alright," she says, emboldened. "Let's begin."
Sakura is a perfectionist, so it takes her one painstaking hour to complete the design over his eyelids and up towards his temples. It is a delicate, artful composition of whimsical lines and dots, and when Sukea opens his silver eyes to look at her, Sakura cannot help but blush.
He is so unbearably beautiful. And with the painted-on cherry blossom branches framing his silver eyes, he looks ethereal, almost like a forest spirit.
"Are you really going to paint this on before each battle you fight?" Sakura asks in a mortifyingly transparent attempt to distract him from her pink cheeks.
"Yes. Painting is a meditative experience," Sukea says, looking into the small mirror that Sakura brought with them. Then he kisses her nose, apparently pleased with her work. "And the precision of the design is meant to reflect the precision of the clan heir's hand, especially before a battle."
Sakura understands how precision can be deadlier than brute strength. Still, she hums skeptically.
"I don't think this design will frighten anyone the way it needs to."
Sukea smiles sadly.
"With the direction I want to take the clan, I don't think frightening people will help me all that much."
Suddenly curious, Sakura perks up.
"What direction?" she asks.
Sukea looks away, his silver eyes distracted.
"I know we're a warrior clan," he says. "But surely there are other ways to maintain our strength and resolve conflict."
Sakura frowns.
"You want to stop the Hatake from being a warrior clan?" she asks slowly.
Sukea shakes his head.
"Not quite." He is silent for a moment. "The Hatake clan sees itself as a sword. One day, I hope the Hatake clan will see itself as a shield."
Sakura bites the inside of her bottom lip as she searches for a response.
"The most ideal scenario would be for the clan to act as both sword and shield on Konoha's behalf," she says.
Sukea nods thoughtfully.
"I know I can't change things overnight," he admits, interlocking his fingers with hers. "But when I become clan head, I fully intend on putting a stop to our more upsetting practices."
Sakura frowns.
"Like what?"
Sukea looks at her and says, "The clan administers three tests once a year to see which clansmen are battle-ready. Everyone is tested. And anyone can pass, provided they are skilled enough. No matter how young they are. The tests are cruel, and I hope to eradicate them entirely when I am clan head."
The dark, stormy expression on Sukea's face makes Sakura nervous.
"When were you declared battle-ready?" she asks.
"I was twelve." At Sakura's horrified expression, Sukea shakes his head. "That's nothing, Sakura. The youngest person declared battle-ready in the entire history of our clan was five years old."
Stricken, Sakura wonders what happened to that poor boy. If he is still alive.
"That's horrible. I'm so sorry." Swallowing the lump that has suddenly appeared in her throat, Sakura then says, "But you're right. There are other ways to maintain the clan's strength and resolve conflict. That's why you have me." At Sukea's intrigued look, she says, "In the right situations, carefully chosen words can be as devastating as a blade and as strong as a shield."
That beautiful smile finally reappears on Sukea's face.
"I agree," he says softly.
"Politics is a different type of shogi than military tactics, but I suppose it's all the same at the end of the day," Sakura says, her eyes lighting up. "Moving the pieces where you need them."
Sukea frowns.
"People aren't shogi pieces, Sakura," he says benevolently.
Sakura looks at the beautiful, gentle-hearted boy she is going to marry in a matter of months then forces a smile on her face.
"Of course not," she says, and to end the conversation, she pulls him in for a kiss.
Before they arrive at the compound, Sakura and Kakashi are quite strict with telling everyone present: "Do not speak of the Uchiha incident to anybody until we have told the elders ourselves."
As they pass through the gates, Kakashi gives her wrist a light squeeze, and in response, she squeezes his wrist back three times in the affirmative, smiling against his back.
Truth be told, they initially developed the little system over the past two days of traveling to communicate with each other more efficiently about whether Sakura needed breaks to relieve her bladder. But little contextual clues have allowed for Kakashi to ask more questions, most of which Sakura is able to discern.
And so there it is. One squeeze for the question, two squeezes for no, and three for yes.
She is quite certain he is asking if she is alright.
It would be strange for him to ask if she needs to relieve herself now.
Everyone at the compound is happy to greet them, especially when they see Tenten. Sakura rolls her eyes fondly as she watches Tenten preen under the attention.
"Watch Emiko," Sakura murmurs to Kakashi.
He does. And he shoots Sakura a horrified look when he sees Emiko blushing at Tenten's fairly innocent greeting.
"Your sister is a plague," he deadpans.
"Thank you," she says. "I'm glad someone other than Tobirama-ojii and Yamato-nii finally sees it too."
They have arrived too late for the communal dinner, so everyone takes their meals at home. Aiko and some branch wives hurry to bring food to the guesthouses where the Senju guards and Tenten will stay for the night, and Sakura helps after she is done at the bathhouse, despite their protests.
"You should be resting, Sakura," Aiko chides her.
"This is an excuse to see more of my nee-chan, really," Sakura quips, smiling when Aiko laughs.
But when they get to Tenten's guesthouse, they catch Tenten walking out of the front door.
"Oh," Tenten says casually, and Sakura is horrified to see a light blush on Tenten's cheeks. "I appreciate this, I really do, but Emiko-san was nice enough to invite me over to have dinner with her and Daisuke-san."
"That's lovely of Emiko," Aiko says genially as Sakura glares at her sister.
"Please don't do anything embarrassing," Sakura whispers.
"I assure you, little sister, nothing I do is ever embarrassing," Tenten says, amused. "I'm very good company. Ask everyone who's ever had the pleasure of entertaining me."
Sakura blanches.
"I'll see you off tomorrow morning, Tenten-nee. Have fun."
"Oh believe me, I will." Tenten smiles sweetly at Aiko. "Thank you for your hospitality, Aiko-sama."
With the unwanted food, Sakura returns home, looking distinctly ill.
Kakashi raises an eyebrow as he takes the food from her and Aiko.
"Thank you, kaa-san, but we already have food," he says.
"And you can have more," Aiko says pleasantly. "Sakura is eating for two now."
She beams brightly at Sakura's visibly curved belly before leaving.
When the doors slide shut, he asks, "Tenten and Emiko?"
"Yes," Sakura says with a sigh.
He laughs. And it is nice, not to have to explain any more than that.
Halfway through their meal, Sakura suddenly realizes that this is their first time eating together, alone. She glances at his bowl and sees that all the eggplant is gone, save for one piece. He has shoved all his umeboshi to the side, where it cannot touch the rice.
Kakashi's chopsticks stop halfway to his mouth.
"What's wrong?" he asks mildly.
Sakura smiles.
"Nothing," she answers honestly. But then she frowns, and before she can stop herself, she asks, "When do you want to speak with the elders?"
She could kick herself. Dinner is not the time to ask serious questions.
But to her surprise, Kakashi does not seem to mind.
He shrugs and answers, "If it were up to me, I would never speak to the elders again. But we should probably speak with them tomorrow."
Sakura looks at him carefully.
"That means we need to talk. Tonight."
Kakashi's shoulders slump.
"I know," he says.
Sakura looks down at her bowl.
"What about when we're done eating?" she says.
Kakashi nods. And so that they can eat for a little longer, she cajoles him into trading his umeboshi for her eggplant slices.
For the umpteenth time, like he is making sure that someone has not twisted her arm into doing or saying half the things she does, he looks at her carefully before playing along.
After they clear the dishes, they return to the table with a pot of the brewed herbs from Yamato. It takes Kakashi an eternity to tell Sakura everything she needs to know about Rin and Obito, his eyes blank and unfocused as he dredges up the memories he has buried so deeply.
And finally, she understands what Kakashi meant when he said he would never be able to love her the way he loved Rin.
Privately, and somewhat ridiculously, Sakura finds herself jealous of this woman, this specter who has managed to leave such indelible marks on the hearts of the two most frightening men Sakura has ever met.
"Lately, I've come to the realization that it doesn't matter how much I loved her. I didn't love her the way she needed me to. If I did, I would have let her go. And maybe she'd still be alive, if she'd left that night. She'd be alive. And happy," Kakashi says hoarsely, after a long silence.
This man is an endless storm of loss and regret. Sakura's heart aches for him.
"How happy would she have been, Kakashi?" Sakura asks contemplatively. "Obito is a liar. A manipulator. He gave her his real first name, and she only hesitated to share it with you because she thought you would terrify some poor civilian. She probably didn't know he was an Uchiha."
If possible, Kakashi's shoulders slouch even more. He sighs then adds, "I'm sorry, Sakura."
Startled, Sakura blinks.
"For what?" she asks incredulously.
"If I'd let her go that night, you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. At least not by him."
Sakura shakes her head.
"We can't change the past, Kakashi," she says. "We can only learn from it and make better decisions. As best as we can."
Kakashi looks at her, tortured.
"We? It's not fair that you have to deal with the brunt of my mistakes," he says bitterly.
"Fair or unfair doesn't matter. We're partners, Kakashi," she says firmly. "We confront problems and find solutions together. Always. Do you understand?"
Kakashi breathes in deep.
"I do." He looks at her and he says, so quietly she almost cannot hear him, "I've never told anyone about this. It's nice, being able to say these things out loud. Thank you."
Sakura nods, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Thank you," she says. "For trusting me. For telling me."
She frowns, her eyes unfocused.
"What are you thinking?" Kakashi asks.
"Obito knew who you were," she answers. And carefully, because the very last thing Sakura wants to do is look like she is accusing a dead woman of something she cannot defend herself from, Sakura says, "Obito spent two weeks with me and mined enough information to organize a successful kidnapping. Is it possible he knows things about the compound from the time he spent with Rin?"
Kakashi's dark eyes are narrowed, not at her, but down at the table.
He knows what she is really asking.
"Yes," he says flatly. "For what it's worth, we made the necessary changes to our security protocols after Jiraiya-oji and Sukea were assassinated."
Sakura's hands close into fists. With his white hair, Obito would have looked right at home in the middle of the Hatake compound, especially if he had been wearing a mask like a branch house member. He only needed minutes to do what he needed to do.
She looks at Kakashi, and she knows they are both thinking of him holding Obito's bloody, beating heart in his hands. She nods, her eyes dark with fury.
"We can exact our vengeance on Obito ourselves," Sakura says. "But we don't have to tell the elders about Obito and Rin." She hesitates. "Do we?"
Kakashi is looking at her like he is seeing her for the first time. Sakura ignores the stutter of her heartbeat.
"If you think it's not necessary," he says.
"I really don't," Sakura says earnestly. "You're the clan heir. You would be in the Uchiha's line of fire, regardless of Obito's personal vendetta against you." She glares down at her empty cup. "And revealing such a detail about Obito will only make the elders even more unpleasant to deal with. I don't think this is any of their business."
He closes his eyes.
"Thank you, Sakura," he murmurs.
Together, they anticipate what the elders will ask them. And they agree on exactly what answers they will provide.
When Sakura and Kakashi go to sleep that night, she does not have to ask if he can hold her again to guarantee another restful sleep. He settles down next to her on the futon then locks her into his chest with his arms around her shoulders and never any lower, just as he has done for the past three nights.
Before Sakura falls asleep, her fingers creep up to encircle his wrist. Then they twitch, once.
And finally she drifts off, but only after she feels his hand twitch around her wrist three times.
The next morning, Sakura finishes brushing her hair and settles the circlet over her head as Kakashi gets ready.
"You haven't thought to customize your design?" Sakura asks, watching as he dips two fingers into the shallow bowl of purple paint then deftly swipes them over his skin.
"I wouldn't know what to do," Kakashi says, wiping the paint off his hands with a cloth. "And the traditional design is much faster."
Sakura stares at the two perfectly formed vertical lines over his eyes and down his face.
"You didn't even use a brush," she says slowly.
Kakashi shrugs. Then he wiggles his fingers.
"These work just fine."
Precision, Sukea's gentle voice echoes in her head, and her heart aches.
She misses him so much.
"We need to remind the elders whom they are speaking to," Sakura says, her eyes steely. Suddenly, she remembers something she overheard during her time at the Uchiha hideout. "Will you let me paint something for you?"
Kakashi stares at her for a very long time. She wonders if she has overreached.
"Alright," he says mildly.
Then he wipes the paint off his face and closes his eyes.
Sakura shuffles closer to him, eventually sitting between his knees, the brush steady in her hands as she paints a simple design over his eyes.
Although she has been sleeping in his arms for the past four nights now, this new position in between his legs feels intimidating in a way she cannot put her finger on.
"For all you know, I could be drawing something rude on your face," Sakura says to alleviate her nerves.
Kakashi grins. His smile is charming in its lopsidedness, and Sakura almost loses her breath, seeing it up close like this.
And mortifyingly, she feels a pang of arousal shoot through her body.
She dismisses it, just as she managed to do in the Senju gardens when Yamato interrupted their talk; Sakura is more than aware of what happens to women during their second trimester of pregnancy.
And it is understandable why she would react this way; there is no denying that Kakashi is objectively handsome in his own right with his strong jaw, serious dark eyes, and the surprisingly sensitive curve of his lips —
"If you think that's what it will take to intimidate the elders, then I won't object," Kakashi says, amused.
Sakura restrains a laugh as she completes the final brushstroke over his eyes.
"All done," she says, unable to contain the pride that leaks out in her voice. But then she blinks in confusion when he stands and makes his way to the doors. "Aren't you going to check what I painted on you?"
Kakashi shrugs.
"Later," he says, a surprisingly fond smile on his face. "I've seen your work before. I trust you."
Sakura stares at the sharp, jagged lightning bolts that frame his eyes, trying her very best not to let the warmth in her cheeks spread to the rest of her face.
Before they meet with the elders, they say goodbye to Tenten and the Senju guards at the gates.
Tenten looks at Kakashi's new warpaint with great interest.
"It suits you, taichou," she says.
And for the first time, she bows low to him, her right fist over her heart. Sakura blinks in surprise; only warriors of Senju blood bow to each other this way.
"Safe travels, taichou," he says, perfectly copying Tenten's movements. He nods at the Senju clansmen. "Thank you for seeing us home."
Sakura squeezes Tenten tight. This time, there are no tears in Sakura's eyes.
"I'll see you soon," Sakura says, smiling tenderly. "In a matter of months."
Tenten grins. Then she bends down so that she is eye level with Sakura's stomach.
"Be good to your mama, baby-chan!" Tenten coos. Then she stands up straight, looks at Sakura knowingly, and says, ever so cryptically, "And you be good to yourself too, Sakura."
With one final kiss to Sakura's forehead, Tenten is gone.
Sakura glances at Kakashi.
"Are you ready?" she asks.
Kakashi sighs.
"No," he says honestly. Then he looks hopefully at her.
Sakura laughs.
"That's not going to work, you silly man. Let's go."
The elders are not pleased when Kakashi and Sakura report the Uchiha incident. Aiko is feverishly looking Sakura up and down for visible signs of harm, and a glowering Sakumo has already snapped at the elders for bombarding Kakashi and Sakura with questions all at once.
"Daichi-ojii, you may proceed," Sakumo says.
Daichi pounces immediately.
"Kakashi-sama, who was in charge of watching Sakura-hime?"
"The men in question have already been disciplined," Kakashi says, his eyes fierce. "There is no need to punish them further."
Not that he wasn't fearsome before, but Kakashi commands a new type of respect with his long hair, sharpened canines, and the lightning bolts around his eyes. Sakura tears her gaze away from him and remembers to breathe.
"It was my fault," Sakura says. "In the panic, I strayed from their watch." Then she smiles at Kakashi and, in plain view of the elders, touches his arm. "But under Kakashi's leadership, they redeemed themselves and found me."
She pretends not to see the fascinated gleam in Aiko's silver eyes.
Daichi's lips press themselves into a thin, displeased line.
"Sakumo-sama, such an incident is a sure sign we need more manpower," he says, turning to the Hatake clan head.
Sakumo exhales loudly out of his nose.
"I am inclined to agree," he says, sounding absolutely exhausted. And before Kakashi can speak, he says, "Thank you, Kakashi, Sakura. You may leave."
Sakura takes her cue from Kakashi and follows him out of the room.
"More manpower?" she says, frowning. "What does that mean? Will we need to reach out to other clans?"
Kakashi sighs.
"It means they're going to recruit trainees to join the Hatake forces," he says, his dark eyes unreadable.
Sakura's eyes light up in recognition.
"Sukea told me a bit about that," she says slowly. "He said that everyone has to pass three tests in order to be declared battle-ready."
Kakashi nods, wiping the sweat off his brow. Even though it is barely past dawn, the relentless warmth of the summer sun is already beating down on them through the shoji screens.
"We only conduct these tests in the winter," Kakashi says. "But exceptions are made in times of duress."
Sakura swallows nervously, remembering the dark, stormy expression on Sukea's face when he spoke about the tests.
"Sukea called the tests cruel," she says.
"They're not so bad now, Sakura," Kakashi says, shrugging. "We've made gradual changes over the years. All weapons we use now are non-lethal, usually made of wood. The only metal allowed is on weapons that are already considered non-lethal, like the kusari-fundo. Provided that the weights don't have any pointed ends like Tenten's."
Sakura nods faintly.
"Can I watch?"
Kakashi smiles ruefully.
"You'll have to," he says. "You are their future matriarch. They have to know who they're fighting for." He looks at her carefully then adds, "I'll have to proctor one of the tests. Just so you know."
Kakashi is adamant that she sees things for herself rather than hearing about them, but he does tell her a bit about the first test.
The first, Sakura learns, is to test all the trainees. They are all partnered up, and they spar with each other until one of them is officially nominated.
Two days later, Sakura sits with Kakashi, Aiko, and the elders as she breathlessly watches an endless sea of young boys with the signature Hatake white hair displaying everything they have learned.
Sakumo, Daichi, and two other elders walk among the sparring Hatake boys, tapping successful candidates on the shoulder.
"Why aren't you out there nominating candidates as well?" Sakura asks Kakashi.
Kakashi hesitates before answering.
"It is better that I don't know who is advancing to the second round," he says mildly.
A heavy weight settles in Sakura's stomach.
"What happens after this?" she asks.
Kakashi closes his eyes.
"I'll test the nominated candidates myself," he says. "The first to land three strikes to the neck or the chest wins."
Tomorrow comes. This time, Sakura sits next to Aiko and Sakumo, staring at Kakashi as he waits for the first candidate to enter the sparring ring.
"Be strong, Sakura," Aiko says, her voice hard.
And Sakura is grateful for the warning, because her heart drops when she sees one very familiar little boy walk towards Kakashi. His weapon of choice, a wooden staff, is double his height.
"Kenji is too young," she says, looking at Sakumo with some panic. "He's nine years old."
"Daichi-ojii-san nominated them," Sakumo says. Sakura cannot breathe. Them. "He thinks they are ready." When he sees Sakura clench her fists, he adds, kindly, "It is rare that anyone younger than the age of twelve gets nominated, Sakura-hime. The fact that the twins were nominated at all speaks to their abilities. They will be alright."
Sakura swallows. Then with great trepidation, she watches as the spar begins.
Kenji is small, unruly, and fast. He has already landed two hits on Kakashi. But he has gotten ahead of himself; he glances at Sakura and beams at her in his excitement. Kakashi uses this opportunity to smack his wooden katana into Kenji's side.
"Kakashi was declared battle-ready at five years old," Sakura says. "Who tested him?"
Sakumo smiles bitterly.
"I did." He pauses and adds, "Believe me, Sakura-hime, we do not enjoy sending children out to battle. That is why the youngest are tested first, when the proctor is at his most dangerous. Short of killing them, we do our very best to make sure that the youngest of the nominees fail."
And Sakura watches with horror as Kakashi lands a second hit on Kenji, except he does not use his wooden katana; instead, he kicks his foot out, and Sakura's eyes widen at the sickening crunch of Kenji's ribs breaking.
This is what Sukea was talking about, she realizes with sudden clarity. But this is beyond upsetting; it is excruciating to witness.
Kenji lands on his back, whimpering. Sakura does not realize she has stood until she feels Aiko's fingers slip around her wrist, tugging her downwards.
"Sakura, you cannot interfere," Aiko says quietly.
She looks at Aiko in disbelief.
"If that were Kakashi, you would sit and watch?"
Aiko closes her eyes.
"I sat and watched as Sakumo broke our five year old son's ribs, broke his right arm, then scarred his face," Aiko says flatly, her voice dark with rage. "If I can do it, so can you. Sit."
Trembling, Sakura slowly sinks back down into her seat.
Aiko takes a deep breath, and together, they watch as Kenji quickly rolls out of Kakashi's way then launches himself at Kakashi again, the wooden staff zipping through the air even faster than before. Kakashi blocks each strike with ease.
He looks almost bored.
That is, until Kenji snaps the wooden staff in half over his knee.
"Kenji-kun, that's hardly conventional," Kakashi says playfully.
Kenji tugs his mask down to take one sharp, painful inhale — Sakura is relieved to see no blood around his mouth — then he pulls it back up before twirling both sticks in his hands and attacking once more.
Sakura watches with bated breath. If Kenji keeps moving like this, he may puncture a lung.
"They've each got two hits, Sakura," Aiko says, as though sensing Sakura's thoughts. "Whoever lands the next one wins."
To Sakura's immense relief, the spar ends shortly after Aiko speaks.
To Sakura's colossal horror, the winner of the spar is Kenji.
The large bruise blossoming on the underside of Kakashi's jaw, evidence of Kenji's third and final strike, does nothing to hide his proud grin.
"Well done, Kenji-kun," Kakashi says gently, getting down on one knee to inspect the boy. Kenji returns the favor, running a small hand apologetically over Kakashi's jaw. "Go get patched up."
"Yes, taichou," Kenji manages to wheeze out. Taichou. Not Kakashi-oji.
Ichiro enters the sparring area next, a kusari-fundo and one wooden kunai in his hands.
Sakura braces herself, angry tears in her eyes.
Ichiro is just as quick as his brother, but he moves with a careful grace.
It is not enough.
Soon, Kakashi hits the back of Ichiro's knees hard enough to make the boy's legs collapse beneath him, then he taps Ichiro's neck with the tip of the wooden katana.
His scowl evident despite the mask, Ichiro picks up his pace, and lands his first hit. Then his second.
And quicker than Sakura can blink, Ichiro's kusari-fundo spirals around Kakashi's katana, tugging it out of Kakashi's hands.
"You know this means I'll have to use hand-to-hand combat now, Ichiro-kun," Kakashi sighs.
That bored expression back on his face, Kakashi dodges each of Ichiro's attempted strikes with comical ease. The boy is getting frustrated; the swing of the kusari-fundo is less controlled now, and Kakashi takes advantage of this.
With a grunt, Kakashi catches the end of the kusari-fundo and tugs, his fist cocked backwards to land his second, most damaging hit. Ichiro ricochets forward with a panicked yelp, and Sakura looks away because she cannot watch Kakashi break another young boy's bones again.
She hears Aiko gasp beside her. Sakura peeks out of the corner of her eye and her stomach drops again when she sees that Ichiro has somehow managed to climb up Kakashi's body, high enough for his tiny feet to rest on Kakashi's hips as he holds the wooden kunai to Kakashi's neck. Sakura understands; he must have used the momentum from Kakashi's swing to his advantage.
"Trouble as always, Ichiro-kun," Kakashi says, amused.
He ruffles a hand through the boy's hair before gently setting him down.
"Bye, taichou!" Ichiro says cheerfully. He waves at Sakura on his way out.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura waves back at Ichiro then asks Sakumo, "How many candidates have been nominated?"
"One hundred. Kakashi could easily test all of them over the next two days, if he really wanted to," Sakumo shares, smiling with great pride at his son. "But we advised him not to overexert himself. We only want the best of the best."
When they walk home from a quiet dinner with the clan, Sakura walks slightly ahead of Kakashi, her shoulders tense.
And when the doors to their home close, Kakashi sighs.
"You're upset," he notes.
"You didn't tell me you'd be breaking children's bones, Kakashi!" Sakura says heatedly, whirling around to face him.
He looks at her with some exasperation.
"A clan is only as good as its weakest fighter," he says.
Sakura blinks tears out of her eyes.
"You broke Kenji's ribs," she says, her voice hitching with emotion. "And Hideki's wrist. And —" she cuts herself off, trembling slightly when she remembers Hideki's blood-curdling shriek of pain.
She hears Kakashi boiling some water, and she knows he is brewing the herbs that Yamato has packed for her; he only had to watch her once to know how to do it correctly.
(Not that she will ever admit it, but Sakura did take a cursory glance at the herbs to make sure that her mother has not added anything suspicious. All she found was an innocent assortment of herbs that would ease her nerves, and at the very worst, relax her inhibitions.)
"Don't be deceived by his big blue eyes, Sakura," Kakashi says. "Kenji is a dangerous fighter. I had to incapacitate him. Any other foe would have done the same."
"He's nine years old!" Sakura roars.
"He is, and because he is smaller than me, that means he is also faster, more energetic." Kakashi shakes his head. "Sakura, he earned that win, no matter how dirty I fought."
He gestures at the bruise on the underside of his jaw.
She glares at Kakashi.
"What if Kenji gets complications?"
"He won't. I hit him hard enough to break his ribs, but not so hard that his lungs would puncture."
He brings the teapot to the table, along with one cup. He gestures for her to sit at the table with him.
"How do you know that for a fact?" Sakura asks, crossing her arms as she sits.
Kakashi looks at her, his dark eyes narrowed and dangerous. Sakura swallows, unable to tear her gaze away from him.
"I know my way around the human body well enough to know the difference between administering a debilitating strike and a fatal blow. Among other things."
Among other things.
Sakura stares at his hands as he pours some tea. He pushes the cup towards her with the backs of his fingers, and hardly a ripple disturbs the hot surface.
She grits her teeth and quashes some intrusive thoughts before she can make any sense of them.
"My son will have to go through these tests," she says, putting a hand on her belly.
"And he will come out stronger for it," Kakashi says, a hint of steel in his voice. "I will train him myself, Sakura. And I will make sure that no one will ever come close to breaking his bones, or worse."
Sakura believes him. This man, feared by the Uchiha for moving faster than lightning, trained Sukea and brought out the best in him, despite their differences. Sukea did not move like lightning, but instead, he moved like a leaf in the wind; graceful, whimsical, impossible to catch. Even Tenten could not land a hit on him, much to her frustration.
It makes sense that the only time Obito could have taken Sukea's life was when his guard was down in the safety of his own home, Sakura thinks bitterly.
"What's the third test?" Sakura asks as she sips on some tea.
Kakashi shakes his head.
"Do you really want to know?"
Sakura steels herself. Finishes her tea.
"Yes. I do."
He looks down at his hands.
"I'm not surprised Sukea didn't tell you more about the tests," he says, sounding exhausted. "The third one upset him the most."
There is only one thing that could have upset Sukea so much.
"They have to kill someone," Sakura says in disbelief. She tries to imagine Ichiro and Kenji taking a life. Tries to imagine Sukea, twelve years old, his silver eyes wide with horror. Tries to imagine Kakashi, five years old, unaware of the ghosts he would hear in his sleep at night.
Kakashi nods stiffly.
"And you understand why they must, don't you?" he asks softly.
Sakura blinks tears out of her eyes.
"I do," she whispers. She looks desperately at him and says, "I'm not asking for the tests to change, or for your clan to stop conducting them. I understand why your clan does things this way. But when you become clan head, I need you to instill a new rule to protect the children of this clan."
Kakashi frowns.
"Why? I turned out fine. So will Ichiro and Kenji. And so will your son."
Impulsively, Sakura reaches for his hands over the table's surface and holds them firmly. She needs him to understand.
"If you wanted Sukea to follow your path, you would have taken him under your wing even earlier. But you didn't. You protected him from everything under the sun and let him have a childhood. Don't you think the other children of this clan deserve that too?"
Kakashi stares down at their joined hands.
"We can talk about what that means, later down the line," he says. Then he looks up at her. "How do you know all of that?" he asks, amused.
Sakura smiles.
"Sukea told me."
Kakashi laughs sardonically.
"I never told him any of that." He looks down at their hands again and adds, "But Sukea always had a way of knowing why people did the things they did."
Barely restraining a sob, Sakura laughs with him, finally letting go.
"I miss him so much," she says quietly.
"So do I," Kakashi says, his eyes distant. "Sometimes I wonder what he would have said to me, if he'd seen how I'd treated you early on." He side-eyes Sakura, a hint of mischief betrayed by the upward quirk of his lips. "Maybe he would have finally said a bad word. I always did try to make him slip up."
Sakura shakes her head, a wry smile on her face.
"He never cursed in front of you?" she asks, surprised.
"No," Kakashi says, raising an eyebrow. "But I always suspected it would take a special set of circumstances for Sukea to suddenly curse like a pirate."
Sakura avoids Kakashi's gaze, but she cannot restrain herself from blushing.
And suddenly, she freezes, her eyes wide.
"Sakura?" she hears Kakashi ask sharply. "What's wrong?"
She blinks. A tear slides down her face.
"He's kicking," she whispers wondrously, looking at Kakashi. "The baby is kicking."
She feels around her belly with both hands, a soft smile suspended on her lips as two light taps flutter against her palms.
"Is this your first time feeling him kick?" Kakashi asks, glancing down curiously.
Sakura nods.
"Do you want to feel?" she asks suddenly.
Kakashi hesitates. His fingers twitch. The same dangerous fingers that broke Hideki's wrist.
"It would be nice," he says awkwardly.
Sakura rolls her eyes.
"Here," she says authoritatively, clutching his wrist and settling his hand over her stomach. She frowns. "Wait, maybe here —"
She slides her hand over his, nudges his fingers to spread wider, moves him closer to the lower half of her curved midsection —
And if Sakura hadn't been sitting, her knees would have buckled underneath the overwhelming wave of arousal that courses through her body.
"Oh," she breathes out, her face suddenly hot.
Kakashi raises an eyebrow.
"I didn't feel anything. Did you?"
Sakura feels everything. Underneath her fingertips, she feels the scars on the back of his hand, the calluses along the sides of his fingers, the heat of his skin —
"There he is," Kakashi says delightedly, and he is right; the baby has kicked once more. But soon, he frowns then removes his hand from her. "Sakura?"
"I'm fine," she says quickly, forcing a smile. "I think I felt a hot flash coming on."
He studies her closely before eventually nodding.
"It's been a long day," he says. Then he glances at the tea and says, "Should we see if the tea works on its own? With your sleep? It would be bad for you to overheat."
Sakura agrees.
So tonight, Kakashi does not hold her.
But she does ask if he can still sleep next to her.
"Just in case?" she says, keeping her eyes down as though it will help alleviate the hot blush still on her cheeks.
She can feel him staring at her again.
"Just in case," he agrees.
He settles next to her, flat on his back as he drapes a forearm over his eyes. Because it is more comfortable, Sakura lays on her side, her back lightly pressed into him.
To her relief, the tea seems to work. She falls asleep fast, unafraid of the possibility that her limbs may lock in place.
And for the first time in weeks, Sakura dreams —
They are sitting together in the Senju gardens.
Kakashi holds her chin up with two fingers, light enough not to nudge her lips up to meet his, heavy enough for Sakura to feel the press of not just his skin, but also his fingernails into her flesh.
And he dips his other hand into the wet heat between her legs, those dark eyes trained on her face.
He does not touch her anymore than this. He does not press himself into her body, does not brush his lips over hers. He only touches her with his fingers and he watches as he makes her come over and over again —
Sakura awakens with a sharp gasp, her blood on fire, her skin damp with hot sweat, and her inner thighs slick with arousal. She sits up, breathing hard.
"Sakura," she hears Kakashi murmuring. "You're alright. It was just a dream."
As her eyes adjust to the darkness, she sees Kakashi's silhouette move before her. She feels him press a cup into her hands.
"Have some water," Kakashi says. "It will help with the heat."
She tilts the cup towards her mouth and drinks.
At some point during the night, he has changed into a light pair of sleeping pants and nothing else.
She tries not to stare.
She fails.
"It got warm," Kakashi says, noticing how her eyes have focused on the vicious scars on his chest. "I can put something on —"
"It's alright," she says quickly. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable." She smiles, clenching her thighs together to alleviate the throbbing between her legs. "Thank you. For the water."
Kakashi hums in response, but his voice rumbles deep in his chest, and instantly, the throbbing between her legs gets worse.
"I think I'll have more of the tea," Sakura whispers, standing. "Go back to sleep."
He nods.
"Wake me if you need anything."
Hardly in the mood for a hot drink, Sakura pours the leftover brew from earlier that evening into a cup and sips the room temperature tea.
Then after half an hour of carefully listening to Kakashi's deep, even breathing through the shoji doors, Sakura spreads her legs and touches herself.
She comes once, to the memory of Sukea's silver eyes gleaming at her in satisfaction as he pleases her with his mouth.
She comes a second time, to a collection of fleeting, meaningless images; the sinuous grace of Hideo's muscles flexing as he pulls on his clothes; the handsome Uchiha boy with the impossibly dark eyes; Kakashi's eyes, which have never been a stark black but rather a very dark grey; the scar over Kakashi's left eye; purple paint, dripping from Kakashi's fingers; streaks of blood in Kakashi's long white ponytail —
She comes a third, fourth, fifth time.
All to the same looping thoughts of Kakashi's hands, strong arms, broad shoulders, scarred torso, scarred face, vicious canines, blood-streaked ponytail, lopsided grin —
And his fingers.
His deadly precise fingers.
She comes a sixth time, pretending that his fingers are massaging her clit, just as he did for her in her dream.
And a soft whine finally escapes her. She muffles herself with a hand over her mouth and nose, her eyes screwed shut as this orgasm, the strongest of the six, rocks through her body.
Sakura is sated. Finally.
She breathes a sigh of relief.
She waits for her heartbeat to slow. Then she quickly darts outside to wash her hands, her eyes blank as she rinses the thick scent of her arousal off her fingers.
As quietly as she can, Sakura walks back into the house, but before she enters the bedroom, she stares at the shoji doors.
They are not completely closed.
Sakura is quite sure she closed them all the way.
Her heart beating fast again, Sakura opens the doors, bracing herself as she lays eyes on Kakashi, half-expecting to find him looking at her accusingly.
But no.
He is still asleep.
In fact, he is laying on his stomach, facing away from her, his breathing as measured as ever.
She stares at him for a very long time, watching the gentle rise and fall of his back, the tiny bead of sweat that darts down the back of his neck and over a shoulder blade.
Maybe she got it wrong.
Maybe she didn't close the doors all the way.
Sakura settles down next to him, and this time, she does not press her back into him.
His breathing slows, deepens even more.
At this point, Sakura is absolutely convinced: he has been sleeping this whole time. Which means she didn't close the doors all the way.
And with that final, peaceful thought, Sakura goes back to sleep.