The first night Sakura had spent in her new room was sleepless.

It bothered her to her core. She'd only spent time away from home on a few occasions with Tsunade and Shizune and wasn't exactly accustomed to sleeping away from her old bed, but the recent long days of travel and sleeping in makeshift camps off the main roads had exhausted her so thoroughly that she was certain she'd be out like a light the moment her head hit a soft pillow. She'd bathed in comfort that'd once been beyond her wildest daydreams, was tended to by handmaids who taught her how to dress in the fancy robes she would be required to wear from now on, and sunk into the soft, wide futon and lie there in the dark ready to fall asleep.

But the palace was busy, even at night. Every few minutes it seemed there was someone walking by, the light presses of the ornate shoes worn exclusively indoors pattering quietly on the smooth, worn wood. She tried all of her tricks: counting numbers in her head, focusing on her breathing to soothe her heartbeat, imagining each of her toes relaxing up through her ankles and calves and knees and eventually her entire body. That had almost done the trick, but it was as her mind finally started to feel hazy that she heard the sound of heavy creaking at the far end of the hallway.

For a split second she considered turning and nestling into the blankets; it was little more than the wind blowing through the thick woods of Shikkotsu—but then...

Her eyes snapped open to remember she wasn't anywhere near Shikkotsu. For a few long moments she anticipated hearing one of the servants swearing, for she tried to imagine that something big had merely dropped onto the polished floor. But then it came again, and just as she furrowed her brows it came yet again. When it happened a fourth time she froze in fear, keenly aware now that they were not only footsteps, but ones that were slowly approaching her shut door. All other sound ceased to exist, feeling isolated and afraid as if the bed and the room itself had fallen away from her leaving nothing but her, the door, and the stranger left in the world.

Tsunade had taught her to fight. Sakura herself had proven she could hold her own well enough against Naruto, and though she knew Jiraiya held back in the few times he would join a spar, it was great practice to go up against an opponent so much larger than her...so why the hell couldn't she move now? Fear had gripped her entirely, all of her relaxation techniques fallen uselessly away as her blood went cold. Another step brought the stranger closer, then another—she heard a gnarled twist like a mighty treebranch struggling against a relentless windstorm. A shiver racked her frame as she clung to the covers to tightly that some of the delicate threads tore.

One more step and another still brought the figure to her door. It blotted out the dim light that'd spilled through the crack under her doors, and so horrified was she that she was sure she'd forgotten how to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut; if the person were to come in, could she pretend to be asleep? React in time enough to fight? She did not know if they intended to bring her harm, but the air was so malicious and tense that she could imagine nothing else. And hadn't Jiraiya speculated that Lord Twenty-third had been assassinated? Sakura was someone of no importance, so what the hell would anyone have to gain by killing her or even scaring her to death?

Her pulse was wild in her veins and loud in her ears in a way that made her worry that the stranger could hear it, too. They stood there unmoving for so long—which did little to ease the tension within her. No more of the servants or maids walked by, her room both impossibly quiet and filled thickly with dread like it was a fog until she heard the early-morning birds begin to sing far outside the window behind her. Their sound snapped her attention away from the door, and when she looked back the shadow was gone, the overwhelming anxiety flown from the air, replaced by the gentle approach of a maid arrived to wake and dress Sakura.

She'd been white as a sheet according to the maid, who pinched at her cheeks to bring back their color while a second maid ran to fetch water. After Sakura's insistence as a medic that she was fine and assuredly not sick, they'd drawn a crude map of the palace and sent her on her way at her request.

The experience, though not a nightly occurrence, happened enough that she rarely slept well. She hid her symptoms, able to pull just a small amount of chakra from her growing reserves to give her enough boost for her day-to-day life. It was for mostly selfish reasons, then, that she invited Naruto and Sasuke-kun to sleep in her chambers with her. Not that she didn't feel bad that Naruto slept in the stables or that Sasuke had little to no privacy so shortly after something as horrible as the massacre, but the prospect of finally being able to get some sleep was tantalizing.

The best part was that it'd worked. Where she should've been giddy at the thought of having two handsome boys secretly spending the night in her room—well, as secretly as could be managed with the many eyes of servants around the palace—she'd laid down a respectable distance from the two of them and been unconscious in seconds. She'd insisted that they return the next night, and this was how they'd all but begun to live together.

The next course of action then was to make the proper arrangements for such a turn of events. They'd gone down to Naruto's empty stall to bring his clothes to her room; they were ratty things, rattier even than her own before the palace handmaids had brought her the most ridiculously expensive robes she'd ever seen. But Sasuke wrinkled his nose at them and declared they were going to Orochimaru's room—after the massacre, his colleague Kabuto had been sent to fetch all of the other boy's necessities, including his clothes.

"It's more than I need," he'd explained as Naruto dug through the trunk full of fine fabrics. "Take whatever you want, except maybe that...or this."

They'd spent the better half of that morning divvying the robes, Sakura mediating whenever they began to argue. That afternoon she'd spent teaching them how to sew, something neither of them excelled at—it was her handiwork that replaced the Uchiha crest with Naruto's own family seal over the next few days.

When Tsunade had approached Sakura early one week to propose her involvement in the upcoming coronation, her first thoughts were of the boys and that she was hesitant to leave them alone, or maybe it was the other way around. Sasuke was close to Orochimaru, but their relationship was of master and apprentice, not necessarily a successor or even a disciple. And Naruto's relationship with Jiraiya had supposedly raised more than a few eyebrows around the palace, his position as a stablehand far from suitable to be by the old man's side during such an important event.

Sakura had deflated to hear it all, but Tsunade gave her an affectionate pat on the cheek.

"I'm thrilled you've made friends," she said with that wry smile, "so how about this: once I'm sworn in, I'll be sure to allow them by our side at any event regardless of the formality. Until then there's little I can do except excuse you from your duties by mine—enjoy the festival from the crowd and with your friends. I will meet with you in the days after."

It was a compromise Sakura could accept, and even she would have to admit she wasn't thrilled in the first place to stand there by Tsunade's side with thousands of eyes on her. She was much better suited to being as low-key as possible, she thought, and she'd much rather see firsthand an event that was rumored to be lavish and expensive.

Naruto dressed now in one of those altered kimono, the three of them taking turns behind the privacy screen in the corner of her too-large room. She brushed and oiled her hair, Sasuke taking a special interest in watching her meticulous ritual (and likely taking notes for his own hair). Even though they weren't part of the procession, the three of them were expected to look perfect for the occassion, the official ceremony finally upon them amid an unseasonably cool day early in the seventh month of the year.

When Sakura dressed and asked, "How do I look?" it had been Sasuke she'd hoped would answer. He was so incredibly handsome that it almost ached to look at him, and that strange, otherworldly feeling she'd had when first they met and spoke each other's names had given her hope. Love at first sight! It had to be!

But he'd been closed off and reserved ever since. She tried not to hold it against him—the guy had just been through the worst possible thing she could imagine, and so was allowed his edgy moods in her eyes. He'd allowed her to pull him by the hand and talk his damn ear off, at least, and that counted for something.

"You're gorgeous, Sakura-chan," Naruto said instead. His sincerity was infectious, and she found herself smiling as easily around him as she had when they spent their month in the mountains. She only wished that she could force the two boys to get along; if she was finding it so easy to be in their company, why couldn't they manage it with each other?

With the three of them dressed, she swallowed down her anxiety. She'd finally gotten good sleep these last few weeks thanks to not only the company of her friends but the exhausting training sessions they had daily with Lord Orochimaru—her dread now, however, was from the supposed size of the celebration.

That was how she found herself hurrying down the main corridor with the boys at her side. She could hear the cacophony of the festival outside, only just begun and expected to continue well past dark. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, though she wasn't quite sure what she should expect. She'd never been part of such a luxurious affair before, and her face flushed as excitement slowly began to replace the fear.

As they rounded a corner, a man in a wheelchair was hurrying himself down the hall. She was so anxious to get to the festival that when he stopped and turned to face them, she swallowed hard. A strange blindfold covered his eyes that did not seem to impair his senses at large, for he raised a hand in the air to beckon them closer. She was startled to see that he was missing half of his limbs, though she'd seen plenty worse than that in her days at the healing hut—it was wartime, after all.

"Your friends, kouhai?" called the man. Though his voice was steady, she could hear a bit of strain laced through it and knew that whatever had happened to him had affected even his vocal chords.

Sasuke did not answer right away, glancing between his friends before taking a few steps towards the stranger.

"Yeah." Awkwardly he turned to where Naruto and Sakura stood, gesturing even in spite of the man's blindfold. "This is Haruno Sakura, the apprentice of our new Hokage. And this is Uzumaki Naruto, who works in the stables. This is my... distant uncle, Uchiha Obito."

Obito stared for some time in Sakura's direction, pensive. Beneath the strap over his eyes his skin was twisted and horribly scarred, and despite herself she felt a budding sense of dread to feel so seen by someone who obviously could not see her. But he turned away when Naruto gave a noisy huff; Sakura nearly sighed in relief.

"Excuse you!" Naruto had taken offense at Sasuke's remark, it seemed. "I'm also the apprentice of the Great Sage of Mount Myouboku!"

"Oh!" said Obito with a marked jump in excitement. "You're Jiraiya's boy, are you? He's quite close with a dear friend of mine. I wonder if you know Hatake Kakashi."

"I don't know him," Naruto said, blinking at the unexpected direction the conversation had taken . "I just know of him, but everyone does! He's almost legendary. He's your friend, oji-san?"

"I wouldn't be alive without him," he said jovially. "See, my nephew? This is why I told you to keep your friends close. What wonderful bonds I sense. But please; I've kept you three long enough. Run along and enjoy yourselves. It's a once-in-a-lifetime occasion to welcome a new Hokage!"

They did as they were told, Sakura's mood struggling to recover as they took back to the main hall.

It did not help when Naruto muttered, "I don't like how he was looking at you."

When finally they made it outside, she did not quite know what she was feeling. Mixed up over the strange encounter, sure, but the palace courtyard she'd finally memorized was totally unrecognizable to her now, packed with food and drink and game stalls as the festival carried on in full swing. She shivered and pulled her jacket tight over her shoulders. There were so many people that she felt dizzy to see them all, the number staggering. This many people lived in Fire Country? Hell, she even spied a dog trotting around among the crowd!

Naruto had gone on ahead, disappearing into the sea with a smile wide on his face. When Sasuke took a step, though, he noticed her hesitation and turned.

"You all right?"

She took a shaking breath. "There's just...so many people..."

Gently took her hand and squeezed. Her stomach flipped to be touched by him, but the simple gesture calmed her considerably just the same. By his side she felt like she could do damn near anything.

"I'm not fond of crowds, either. We'll go together."

He hadn't lost sight of Naruto, and side by side they wove through the festival streets. By the time they caught up he was scooping goldfish with great enthusiasm; she had never seen many of the games before, the valley villages she lived near far too poor to afford much in the way of commodities. Naruto showed her how it was done, and though Sasuke feigned disinterest, he did not quite turn and walk away, either. In the dying light of the afternoon sun they flitted from stall to stall, the boys' careful attentions to her and her careful attentions on learning the tasks at hand dampening her feelings of claustrophobia and unease.

It was as they stood tossing darts at balloons that a deep, rhythmic pounding of drums sounded over the festival. The sun had just begun to set, and young boys and girls dressed in ornate robes wove through the crowd, lighting lanterns as they went. The hum of chatter and laughter quieted as all turned their heads in time to see a grand procession enter and walk along the grand balcony at the front of the palace. Royal monks and a few members of the court she recognized from her diligent study of palace life stopped at their places, then each lifted their hands in unison.

Tsunade was last, dressed in the most ridiculous and expensive-looking getup Sakura had ever seen. It was a gaudy white robe that glimmered in the lantern light and was stitched so finely with silken patterns of flame from the hem as if she were to be burnt at a stake. Upon her head was a hat, and on the brim hundreds of red and white beads and tassels were fastened, hanging down over her face like a bride Sakura had once glimpsed in the valley village before.

As Tsunade passed beneath the outstretched hands of the court members and monks, each of them releasing what was clutched in their palms: tiny beans, meant to frighten away any evil spirits who may have their sights set on ruining the night, capitalizing on the merrymaking mayhem of the festival. One of the members of the council, an elderly woman with her hair pinned simply at the nape of her neck in a style befitting a woman of her age and status, crossed the veranda and stood at Tsunade's side, taking a step to address the crowd in a shockingly clear voice.

"Friends," she began, "this humble councilwoman thanks you for joining us on such a beautiful night. It is with both great sadness but great honor that I have witnessed the induction of three Hokage in my lifetime. We are fortunate that our way of life has endured these many hundreds of years—but this is also a testament to the Will of Fire passed down from Lord First himself, Senjuu Hashirama. Those of us here in the Leaf and all Fire Country denizens are born with it, this ability to struggle and survive against all odds.

"As this council is certain must be common knowledge by now, the lady to my left carries the blood of our dear First Hokage in her veins. Her qualifications beyond her bloodline include an extensive study of medicines and chakra control, a penchant for healing and the ability to remain calm under pressure. Her time spent away from the crown city have given her invaluable knowledge of the world at large, far more than other aristocrats who do nothing but send their children to war while they hide behind Konoha's walls."

As the woman carried on with her speech, Sakura furrowed her brows. She wasn't sure she could ever say Tsunade was calm under pressure, though she was good at hiding any panic she felt when tending to a particularly nasty wound—at least until the patient was good and healed and sent on their way. Shishou was prone to sighing deeply once the two of them were again left alone, and would nurse bottles of alcohol some days. As she wondered how that might translate to being Hokage, something caught her eye.

There above the balcony a skinny, bare treetop swayed gently in the wind.

Sakura blinked, then squinted her eyes. There were a few trees scattered about the palace city, but none reached taller than Jiraiya, let alone up past the tallest tier of the castle. The dense forest lie in the opposite direction, but sure as the ground beneath her sandaled feet there was a slender trunk rising up from the steep-sloped pagoda. It was a black silhouette against the deep blue and fading orange of dusk.

Then, it moved.

A tremor pulsed through her. She swallowed thickly, trying to give her attention back to the ceremony. Surely she was just seeing things in the low light of dusk, exacerbated by her distaste for the crowd. Like hell she would be spacing out during such an important day in her shishou's life! But for reasons she could not put to name her heart pounded once in her chest, that dread from the first nights in her new room returning to her veins. With the words of the councilwoman incomprehensible to Sakura, her eyes were drawn like magnets back up to the tree. There atop the building and shadowed entirely, a small, glowing pinpoint of red appeared upon it, shooting Sakura through with a fear so great that she stumbled where she stood.

Naruto's strong hands caught her by the shoulders, softly calling her name to ask if she was all right. When she could not answer, he pursed his lips in confusion and followed her gaze above the induction ceremony.

"What is it?" he pressed, worried.

She shut her eyes, squeezing them so tightly her head ached from it. Her voice was a whisper, pathetic and falling flat. "Don't you see—that?"

They were so close that she could feel his smile at the side of her face as he joked quietly, "The old lady isn't that scary, is she, Sakura- chan?"

"No, the—" But when she opened her eyes and looked again, there was nothing there at all but the palace towers and the clear, cloudless sky glimmering now with tiny pinpoints of starlight. The councilwoman had stepped back and her counterpart, a man of similar age, was now giving his half of the speech as Tsunade stood on, her body language bored and tired to the eyes of someone who knew her as well as Sakura.

"If you saw someone on the roof," Naruto went on, murmuring in her ear, "I'm sure security is tight as ever, you know? You remember what Ero-sennin said on the day we met."

Of course she remembered; to hear that the last Hokage may have been murdered was never far from her mind. And especially when coupled with those first nerve-wracking nights—she wondered if, even if Naruto and Sasuke continued to live in her chambers, she would ever again get another night of restful sleep.

She took a breath, shaking. Naruto was born and raised here, and surely knew what he was talking about. Rather than let her imagination her run wild, she should lean into his confidence. She tried, truly, but still found herself turning to Sasuke to get his thoughts on the situation. He was nowhere to be found, though, and she spun in the other boy's arms.

"You really were freaked out, huh? Four-eyes came to get Sasuke for something."

But that didn't make any sense! Orochimaru, from the few weeks the three of them had spent training with him, was all about schedules and plans. "Sasuke-kun didn't say anything about that."

Naruto only shrugged, not bothered at all. "The old man's best friends with Tsunade-baa. Maybe they're having a surprise party, you know?"

Her stomach flipped once in unease. She knew close to nothing of palace life but was sure grown-ass adults didn't throw surprise parties, especially not ones of such high status. But before she could as much as open her mouth to talk some sense into Naruto, the crowd erupted around her in wild cheers and claps. The sound startled Sakura so deeply that she shut her eyes again, bring her hands to cover her ears. Naruto's arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her close, and she found herself burying her face in his chest like little more than a frightened child.

Between the glowing red eye of the lone tree atop the pagoda and Sasuke's sudden absence, something, she knew deep down, was horribly wrong.