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Four Years Later

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Many things have changed since that day. The feeling of betrayal, the anger, the yearning, for a start. Haruno Sakura was once a childish little girl. She remembers the laughs, the sugar-glazed cakes of her father, the taste of fresh strawberries that still somehow reemerges at the tip of her tongue every time she takes the time to lie down in the sun and look at the changing forms of the clouds in the sky.

Then, she met with her team for the first time and became a kunoichi of the Leaf, a civilian shinobi. Still, she never let that deter her, and instead clung to the light, looking at things with a rational yet positive approach, loving with all her might, caring with all her love. She remembers the laughs, the splashes of ramen broth, and the soft touch of his lips.

But, everything turned into dust. And Sakura doesn't even know who to blame. It would be easy to point her finger at Hana or Sasuke. The former turned her life upside down by taking control of her body and making decisions without caring in the slightest about the repercussions in Sakura's life. And the latter toyed with Sakura's feelings, making her believe he cared for her, just to leave her behind after almost killing Naruto. But Sakura was just as bad. She put her trust in them, let them use her for the wrong reasons, needed to be loved so much.

Sometimes, she wonders what happened to her old self. If she just vanished to never come back or if there is still hope, somewhere, someday, for her.

She takes a sip of sake and observes her already drunk sensei through a lock of pink hair. The blond pigtails are falling on each side of her generous breasts, the woman's cheeks are red, just like the tip of her nose, and her eyes, half-closed, don't seem to register anything anymore. And yet, Sakura knows not to be fooled by that look.

"Drink," the woman orders, eyes still not quite looking at anything. "I won't let you waste good sake."

Sakura shakes her head but drinks down her cup, anyway. Then, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and leans forward on her elbows, the table tilting a bit towards her under the additional weight. "Tsunade-sama. You wanted to talk to me."

Her sensei slams her hands on the table, making the bottle of sake almost fall and one cup lose some of its liquor. Sakura sinks in her seat when she feels curious looks burning the side of her face. "You're no fun, really. I should have chosen Yamanaka. She may be talentless, but at least she knows how to have fun."

The pinkette rolls her eyes, with her arms now crossed over her chest, but doesn't say a word. She learned the hard way when to keep quiet.

"These are dark times to be alive, Sakura. To be alive and a civilian." Again, she stays silent as a shadow passes above their table, taking away the remnant of playfulness. "I might not be here forever."

"Tsuna–"

"Swear that you will never give up on the Leaf, no matter what happens."

Sakura unfolds her arms and leans forward on the table again, taking one of her sensei's hands in hers with furrowed brows. "What are you talking about? I'm your apprentice; I will always be by your side, and I will never give up on the Leaf."

The woman grabs Sakura's wrist in an iron grip, and the pink-haired girl winces when the manicured nails penetrate her tender skin. "You're not my apprentice anymore, Sakura. You are far from the girl I met four years ago. And now, I need you to promise me you won't give up on the Leaf. Swear that you won't, no matter what."

"I swear, Tsunade-sama," Sakura answers as she retrieves her arm and brushes the sensitive skin. "Why do you think I would give -"

"Take the initiative and kiss him first," the woman interrupts, leaning back in her chair.

"What?"

"Another drink, miss?"

Sakura jumps in her seat when the waiter appears from nowhere and clears the table in front of her.

"She won't take anything else because she's boring, but I'll take another bottle of that sake."

The man turns to Tsunade and, after bowing low, murmurs a shy of course, Hokage-sama and hurries back behind his bar.

The blonde interlaces her fingers together and leans her chin on them as soon as he leaves. "We can't trust anyone anymore." Sakura glances at the flustered waiter before returning her gaze to her sensei, trying to gauge her level of drunkenness. At the sight of the woman's pink cheeks and heavy eyelids, she shakes her head, ready to object, but Tsunade's whisper reaches her ears before she can voice her concerns. "Danzō." Sakura's eyes widen. "Danzō will happen."

A door closes, making Sakura jump again. She glances towards the entrance, a hand shooting to her stammering heart, but returns her attention forward when the waiter comes back with a brand new bottle. Tsunade gives him a generous tip and dismisses him with a rude wave of her hand. He leaves them alone again, and the two women lock eyes.

"What are you thinking?" Tsunade asks after a while of staring.

Sakura mimics her sensei's posture, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on them. "That you're insane."

A smile stretches on the blonde's face, and she reaches for the bottle. She fills her cup, empties it in one gulp, and fills it again. "And?"

"If you leave me," Sakura begins, trying to ignore the pang in her heart that this possibility creates, "what do you want me to do? Become the head of the hospital? Set in motion the Resistance's plan? Protect Naruto?"

Tsunade drinks down her cup and closes her eyes. "You already know the answer to this, Sakura. I don't need you at the head of the hospital. Shizune can do that. And you've already lost too much for that Resistance."

"So Naruto it is," Sakura answers, relieved. "But I can't protect him. Not alone."

"With a bit of luck, that lazy, old sensei of yours will help you."

"And what about Sai?"

"I already gave him another mission."

Sakura gulps, glances left and right, then leans above the table, her nose almost reaching the woman's face. "A mission? Tsunade-sama, what's going on? What did you find out? Is this about Jiraya-sama's death? Do you know something we don't?"

At the mention of her deceased teammate, Tsunade sits taller in her chair. "Be careful, Sakura. And prepare yourself, for when the time comes, I won't be there to tell you what to do. You need to be ready, to sleep with an eye open, to take your weapons with you wherever you go. We're at war, Sakura. And it's only a matter of time before everyone notices."

The woman stands up, kicking her chair behind, then empties her cup in one gulp and leaves the bar, staggering through tables and people with the rest of her bottle clutch against her chest.

But Sakura remains seated for a while, gaze lost in the distance. Tsunade has always been the type to dramatize a lot, but today feels too real for the pinkette. And the prospect of losing her, the closest thing she has to a mother, is heartbreaking. But what is there to do? With so little information?

The waiter comes back to see if she wants to order something else, and that's what finally makes her leave. She wanders for a while, uses the long way home. Her head feels dizzy, and it seems like she's floating. She wonders if it's the alcohol messing with her mind or just the effect of her big talk with Tsunade. She brings a hand to her forehead and wipes the beading sweat on the same occasion. Her eyes drift to the purple sky, then to the orange line on the horizon. Her shoulders slump at the realization that she missed yet again another sunset.

She resumes her walk, and her feet lead her to a familiar street, where she can see in the distance the sign of her family's old bakery. Ignoring the tugging at her heart, Sakura diverts her path, opting for a trip downtown instead. She closes her eyes when a soft breeze brushes her skin, flutters her green summer dress, and a single tear rolls down her cheek. She unties her hair and runs her fingers in it as long locks cascade down her back, and her mother's perfume engulfs her nostril.

A friendly ramen stand appears around the corner, and with her fingers still playing within the long pink locks, Sakura hastens her pace. A boisterous laugh reaches her ears, and soon, a spiky blond head comes into view, and her tense shoulders loosen. But then she notices a pretty heiress sitting next to the young man and diverts her path instead. The weight on her shoulders returns, and Sakura tries to ignore the feeling of loneliness adding up to her other problems as she crosses the CS compound - the Civilian Shinobi district.

She shows her ID to the masked Anbu stationed at the gates, recites the events of her day - minus the conspiracy talk - and tries to recall her entire itinerary.

"Civilians," the man mutters, "can't even hold their liquor."

She bites her tongue and forces a shy smile to her lips. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Just go."

She bows low, then strides towards her apartment building, feeling the man's eyes on her the whole time. Once inside, she discards her shoes, her dress and hops in the shower. She sighs in relief as water lands on her shoulders and releases some of the accumulated tension.

Her first night off in weeks, and she's wasting it stressing about inexistent threats. Her forehead against the cold tiles, she closes her eyes, feeling annoyed, exhausted. Because every time she hears something about a new menace, Sakura cannot refrain from worrying about him. She knows he defeated Orochimaru; snippets of his exploits have reached her ears. But even if she despises everything about him, about the man he became, she still worries for his safety. She knows he would be safer (and happier) inside the village, with his team and his friends, with her.

She frowns at that thought. So many things have happened since then. Is it still really safer in Konoha? Would she have been happier if he had let her follow? Would her parents still be alive?

She holds back a sob and drops to the ground, where she curls up in a ball and lets her tears mingle with the warm water.

How many days before she finally stops crying? Before the feeling of guilt leaves her? When will the hurt end?

"Get up, dear."

Sakura's head jerks up upon hearing her mother's voice, and her eyes land on the blonde woman who's waiting for her with a towel in her hands. The girl turns off the tap, wraps herself in the white cloth and hurries out of the shower.

"You're here," she says, taking her mother's hand in hers. "Again."

"You will have to move on eventually, kiddo."

She turns to the bathroom entrance and smiles when her eyes land on her father's sunny face.

"Daddy!" He engulfs her in a tight hug, and she holds on to him, her fingers digging deep into his broad shoulder blades.

"Your father is right, Sakura. You have to move on from us, from him."

"Fight for your life, for your happiness," Kizashi whispers in her ears. "And know that we are so, so proud of you."

Sakura snaps her eyes open to find that she's still sitting in the shower. The now icy water runs down her back, raises goosebumps on her skin. She quickly comes back to her senses and hurries out of the shower to inspect her empty bathroom, but there is no trace of her parents anywhere.

It was a dream, she realizes as she inspects her reflection in the mirror, her dark circles and dull green eyes. It was just a dream.

A knock at the door forces her to recover from the sudden pain, and she hurries into her loungewear to answer.

"Neji!" A smile tugs at the corner of her lips upon seeing the Hyūga waiting in front of her apartment. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He shrugs and enters. "I was at Lee's place. Thought I should come and say hi."

"How is he?" She retrieves two beers from the fridge.

"They let you buy this?"

"Of course not. It's Kakashi's beer."

"Makes more sense." Neji gulps down half of his drink. "To answer your question. He's getting worst. I fear they might bring him to Danzō's vacation house."

Sakura's heart sinks; Danzō's vacation house is another way of saying the civilians' own hell. No one ever came back from it, and no one really knows where it is. "Don't tell me he started drinking again." Neji's lips turn into a thin line, and she sighs. "I thought he was getting better."

"Lee's only desire is to be a Shinobi of the Leaf. To show that even without chakra, he can be stronger than many, useful to his village. So now that he's forced to work for Tenten's parents, he's lost all hope. And I'm not the best at providing support, you know that."

She gives him a half-smile. "I never complained."

"But I can't really kiss him, now, can I?"

A blush creeps to her cheeks at that, and she tries to hide her flustered state behind her drink as she gulps down the remaining of it. "Why not?" Neji's nose wrinkles in disgust, and she chuckles. "You did more than that," she then adds in a whisper.

"Yet, you still won't love me." He steps closer to her and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Neji..."

"It's alright. Never thought I'd say that, but I'm patient. One day, you'll forget about him." She diverts her gaze at the mention of the Uchiha. "In the meantime," one of Neji's hands snakes around her waist. "I can still kiss you."

Sakura lets his lips find hers, gives his tongue access to her mouth, even brings her hands to his hard chest, but just like all the other kisses before, it's still missing something.

A wooden scent. The impression of becoming one with the other person. A pure feeling of bliss.