*crawls out from under my rock* *throws confetti*

I survived exams! first year of uni is officially done and bedazzled with giftwrap and ribbons and all that jazz~ therefore, i can update! first off, thank you for the overwhelmingly positive response to me waving au revoir to canon - honestly, y'all's reaction warmed my cold shrivelled heart 3 ty lovelies

very mild tw for panic attacks and, uh, possessive behaviour? would that be dodgy? potentially-unhealthy-relationship sorta thing? anyway, you've been warned. also my japanese is sketchy at best but 'tokubetsuna hito' is supposed to mean like, 'special/precious person'

shoutouts!
1 kudos to everyone who correctly guessed that the running comparison is Sakura to Oro. the how and why is explained in this chapter and shall also be tackled later on
2 congratz to all of you who said that the first scene in the last chapter was Sakura removing Anko's stinky curse mark. twas indeed, and that was meant to be addressed in this chapter, but the words got away from me a lil... #oops. i blame yuki. he's too fun to write
3 i love the unanimous agreement of Kishi was on some major shrooms à la C.S Lewis when he came up with the Kaguya Arc
6 the love some of yall have for yuki... is incredible. and frankly, my greatest accomplishment as a writer, imo XD the scene that's about a third of the way through this chapter is... well. it's been a long time coming, let's put it like that. (i've been wanting to write it for over a year and i finally, FINALLY found a place for it)
7 fanart!
on insta (or yourmoonbun on tumblr) did an AMAZING piece.
NinjaPenguinLover on DeviantArt did a great Sak full body way back in 2017
 clowncunt on tumblr has an absolutely GORGEOUS style, but as they didn't publish theirs, i got permission to post it on my tumblr, itsthechocopuff

anyway! hope you enjoy!

Sakura launched herself at the assassin, grinning when he caught her easily, strong arms wrapping around her waist and steadying them both.

"Pinky-chan," he greeted, and Sakura could hear his smirk, "you're like an excited puppy." He laughed.

Sakura harrumphed, indignation warring with amusement at the comparison, and squeezed tighter before letting go. "Nice to see you too, Yuki-san. Also, you need to wear a bell, I swear. " She snarked back, drawing another chuckle from the raven and unable to fight her own responding smile.

"Thought you've been getting better at sensing, not worse." He shot back, and Sakura barely managed to fight back a wince. "I managed to run alongside you for a solid ten minutes and you didn't notice."

"Ah, yeah," she hedged, hand rising unconsciously to scratch at the back of her neck, wondering how to best explain the situation to the assassin, "I may have… depleted my reserves and overloaded my coils… a few days ago…"

Yuki stood still for a few seconds, eyes narrowed, scrutinising her. "And the Godaime… sent you on a solo mission? Psh." He scoffed, and while there was derision in his eyes, long exposure to the man let Sakura see the undertone of apprehension and genuine concern underneath. "And they say Kiri was ruthless."

"I can still fight!" Sakura defended herself, a little insulted. "Just, my chakra is a bit… capricious, at the moment."

"I know, pinky-chan, I wasn't doubting you." Yuki said offhandedly, frowning, his mind seemingly far-away.

But the offhand compliment was enough to shut Sakura up and send warmth rushing to her cheeks, because the acknowledgement that he'd offered so freely, so carelessly – it felt so good.

Then, the grey cloud that had gathered above the assassin's head cleared up, and he was back to his usual, more-than-a-little unhinged self that Sakura was familiar with.

"So, what had you so deep in thought before you saw me, hm, pinky-chan?" he asked casually, falling into step with Sakura as they continued towards Kiri, not bothering with ninja speed just yet.

"Ah, I was just… wondering, I suppose." Sakura evaded, then sighed, letting her head thump lightly against Yuki's shoulder, keeping it there for a few steps before pulling away. "Ne, Yuki-san… do you think I'm like Orochimaru?"

Yuki tripped.

Actually honest-to-god tripped, and in that moment, Sakura was certain that the world was ending.

The fact that the assassin caught himself not a half-second later didn't matter. Yuki had been the epitome of 'apex predator' in her mind, cat-like in his grace and stealth, and seeing him trip like a genin had felt like a violation of one of the most basic principles Sakura lived by; water was wet, Genma was her partner, Shikamaru was a genius, and Yuki didn't trip.

Yuki didn't fall, but Sakura was aware that her jaw had hit the floor in his stead.

"Yeah…no. We're camping. I need to be sitting down for this conversation." He grumbled at last, and Sakura drew comfort from the fact that there was amusement in his eyes, even if it was overshadowed by something she couldn't quite decipher.

Then, his words registered, and she started complaining because it was barely dusk!

However, despite her grumblings and less than graceful protests, Yuki had still dragged her into the forest that surrounded the path they were on and sent her to find water and kindling while he set up camp. Twenty minutes later, they were sitting around a small fire, eating fish, taro and skirret stew that Yuki had cooked. Sakura sat with her back against a tree, her bedroll beside her, soaking up the warmth from the fire and nibbling on a taro leaf, quietly impressed at Yuki's creation.

Then, the raven put his bowl down and turned towards her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his crossed knees. "Okay. Run that by me again." He ordered, so she did.

"Do you think I'm like Orochimaru?" Sakura asked, her voice steady with a calm she did not feel.

It was a topic she'd avoided even thinking about for as long as she could, and she didn't dare bring it up to Genma or Shikamaru, aware that both would give her hell and smack her around for even humouring the comparison, much less letting it worry her.

But she heard the whispers, scarce as they were – and when something was being spread by Jiraiya of the Sannin of all people, she was sure that the idea would gain popularity sooner rather than later.

Yuki, she knew, she could trust to tell her like it was. To tell her the truth.

He didn't disappoint.

"You are ridiculously over-skilled." He said bluntly, and Sakura almost laughed. "That scares some people. You have a terrifying range of techniques from almost all areas of the ninja arts, and you use them well. I remember when you told me about when you decided to take being a shinobi seriously, and that you're a 'paper-ninja'. All that meant was that you took advantage of your brains and the insane chakra control you had at your disposal. You chose genjutsu because it was something you had a predisposition for. You chose Water and Earth Release because they were your natural elements. You chose bukijutsu to supplement it, even if you would never have an advantage in that field. Then you added fuinjutsu to supplement your close-combat even though it took years to learn, and weaponised medical ninjutsu to make up for your, frankly non-existent, taijutsu. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Sakura shook her head. She didn't.

"Every weakness you discovered, you found something to cover for it. Could barely do the Academy Three? Added genutsu. Needed a distraction to set your genjutsu? Added ninjutsu. Realised you would never have the reserves to enter a ninjutsu battle and win? Added bukijutsu for close-combat. Realised your taijutsu sucked ass? Added muscle-cutting chakra scalpels to your repertoire. Can't fight if you can't move. Realised you preferred to hide and bide your time before attacking? Added flashy fuinjutsu for explosions and body-bind. Each of those lessons was learnt through blood and death and fear and experience." He paused, waiting till she met his eyes before continuing. "But most people don't see that. They don't know the thought process, don't see the trial-and-error, don't see you bleed and almost die for not being good enough. They just see a little civilian girl, pink haired and barely past puberty, and they see her rise through the ranks like they're nothing, they see her orchestrate treaties that bring Villages with rivers of blood between them under one common goal, they see her beat a Hyuuga with a mockery of their own jutsu, beat a war veteran thrice her age, beat a boy trained by one of the most dangerous men in the Shinobi Nations and come out almost unscathed every time, and they think danger. You're not, because you're horribly, adorably loyal to that ridiculous Village of yours, but you could be. You could be terrifying, Sakura."

Sakura shuddered.

There was something intimate, something almost reverent in the last line, in the way Yuki's voice, raspy from use, curled over the syllables of her name. Her name. She jumped at the realisation that this was the first time she heard the hunter-nin use her given name, but Yuki wasn't done.

"Do I think, however, that you're like Orochimaru? No. Although you are arrogant and selfish and ambitious and devastatingly clever, you would never be caught experimenting on children, and you'd never sequester yourself away in a country that's little more than a swamp without building it up into a flourishing metropolis that could rival the Hidden Villages. You are also weaker. You have a wide range of techniques and almost always fight with the element of surprise on your side, but you could never hope to match him in sheer power and creativity. The man is still a terrifying shinobi at fifty. Even Hatake, if he ever took you seriously, on an even playing field, would be out of your league. You prefer Silent Kill because even now, after all the training you've done, facing a single combat jounin in a face-to-face battle would put you at a disadvantage." He paused when Sakura winced, but she'd asked for this, so she waved him along. "You do, however, belong to the same category of shinobi as Orochimaru – the type who fight with their brains and not their brawn, who collect skills like one would collect Buddha statues. The same type that Uchiha Itachi, Hatake Kakashi, or even yours truly belong to. That is what people fear." Then, he paused, snorted, and leant back on his hands, his serious expression gone as if it was never there, replaced with his customary lazy smirk. "But what do I know? I've been a shinobi for over two decades and held the title of a 'Terror' since my first mission outside the Village." He shrugged. "Being feared by civilians and shinobi alike is what I grew up with." And there was a tiny quirk to his usual smirk that was so wry and self-deprecating Sakura ached, even as all other emotion struggled to register, reeling as she was from Yuki's speech.

Arrogant, he'd said. Selfish. Weak.

He wasn't wrong. She noted dazedly.

Then, she realised what else he'd said and gaped.

"Wait… Yuki-san, how old are you?" she asked bluntly, not even phased by the gaff, her mind whirring.

"I'm twenty eight." He replied, serious mood completely forgotten as he grinned. "Why, pinky-chan? Something the matter?"

Sakura blinked.

Twenty eight. Nope. Still not computing.

"How… how old were you when you graduated?" she kept digging, instead of addressing the bizarre thought of oh! that's not that big of an age gap that had popped into her mind out of nowhere. Bad intrusive thoughts!

"Six." Yuki divulged easily, leaning forward once again, this time not bothering to hide his amusement. "I graduated a year before Zabuza flipped his shit, melodramatic brat that he was."

Sakura was glad she was sitting down, for she would've likely fallen had she been standing. "Did… did you kill your classmates too?"

"No." when Sakura breathed a sigh of relief, Yuki grinned. "I killed my sensei."

There was something so prideful and at the same time, self-deprecating in that confession that Sakura couldn't help but laugh. "Of course you did. And what, did they go, 'hey, you're good at that. Off to the frontlines with you!'?" she laughed.

"Basically, yeah!" Yuki agreed with a snort. "And then they realised they could make more money if they promoted me, so I was a chunin within a year, and a jounin when my age reached double digits!"

Suddenly, Sakura didn't feel like laughing.

"This is another reason, isn't it? You and Kakashi shot through the ranks because you had to, because he was a genius and you were a child in the times of the Bloody Mist. But I chose to."

"Normally, shinobi kill because they're ordered to. Because that's how they get their pay checks. Few go out of their way to ask for more missions, especially ones as dirty and soul-staining as assassinations." Yuki agreed, not bothering to mince his words.

"Orochimaru wanted to be the best shinobi in the world. He wanted to know all the jutsu. I… I just wanted to stand alongside Genma. Still want to, now that I know what it's like. But… my teammates both had such outlandish dreams. At twelve, one wanted to be Hokage while the other wanted to avenge his family and kill his brother; at twelve, I didn't have an ambition. When my genin team was formed, I wanted to be Mrs Sakura Uchiha, but after a few months, when I met Genma… saying 'I want to be with him always' was stalkerish, and saying 'I want to be a good shinobi' still paled in comparison to my teammates' dreams. So I started saying 'I want to be a jounin by 16'. Something quantifiable, that could compete with Naruto and Sasuke. And since being a jounin would let me be with Gen, it wasn't even a lie."

Surprisingly, Yuki looked contemplative.

"You're not loyal to the Leaf at all, are you?" he asked quietly, green eyes oddly dark, reflecting the dancing flames even as his mouth quirked up. "You're loyal to him alone. To Shiranui."

"To him, and Shikamaru, and senpai." Sakura confirmed, just as quietly. "I… I would drown this world in blood just to see them happy."

"So I guess this is what you become." Yuki murmured cryptically, and Sakura frowned, confused. "When we first sparred, and you caught me in that genjutsu–"

"–you said you'd be interested to see what I'd become once I let go of the last strands of morality. I know, I remember." She finished, and Yuki smiled.

"I can't say I'm disappointed."

It was then, amidst the warmth she felt flood her cheeks and the way her mind kept screaming cute! when one of Yuki's filed teeth caught on his lip in his grin, that she noticed.

There was a disturbance in the chakra around his face.

Sakura frowned and flared her chakra. To her annoyance, it burst out of her in a violent wave rather than the controlled pulse she wanted, but it jolted her system enough to disrupt the notice-me-not illusion on Yuki's cheek nonetheless.

What was revealed made her gasp.

A vicious, red chakra burn stretched all the way from the corner of his left eye to his jaw, and Sakura was suddenly reminded of orange chakra and Yuki being thrown aside.

Sheer, incandescent rage seized her, and she reached out a shaking hand and carefully cradled the jounin's cheek, concentrating hard.

Yuki huffed a laugh, the exhale tickling her inner wrist. "With your coils as blown as they are, you can't heal it, pinky-chan." He murmured, barely opening his mouth even as he made no move to push her away.

Sakura scowled, "It is my chakra and therefore I am its master. I will make it obey me." Her scowl deepened and she felt sweat start to bead on her brow until finally, finally, a flicker of green bloomed around her fingers. She coaxed her chakra along her dilated pathways, wrestled it into the gentle flow and ebb of medical jutsu, until the green turned slightly darker and encased her whole hand. Then, she focused on Yuki.

A full minute later, the skin beneath her palm was only slightly discoloured, a delicate pale pink instead of the vicious red, but try as she might, Sakura couldn't heal it fully without risking making it worse.

Sakura made to draw her hand away, but Yuki caught her wrist in a loose grip, keeping it close. With his other hand, he reached up and ran his fingers lightly over his cheek, a look of quiet wonder flickering across his eyes as his fingers met smooth skin.

Then, he dropped his hand and raised his gaze, and Sakura's breath caught in her throat.

Yuki was careful, telegraphing his every move as he used the grip on her wrist to pull her closer, and even in her weakened state, Sakura could've easily gotten out of his grip and jumped away.

She stayed put.

She followed the gentle tug, shuffling over onto her knees to close the already scarce distance that separated them. Even then, Yuki paused just millimetres away, and looked at her meaningfully.

Sakura didn't move.

A flicker of amusement danced across his eyes, and then–

oh.

Kissing Yuki was a lot different than kissing Shikamaru. Shikamaru had been all about comfort, and even if Sakura had wondered what it would've been like if the circumstances had been different, at the time, there was no heat behind the admittedly intimate action.

The kiss was chaste, not even five seconds, but every moment was laden with intent, with promise. Even then, Sakura found herself laughing when her lip grazed a filed tooth, and Yuki radiated satisfaction, his grin reaching his eyes as he pulled away.

"That's all the thanks you get." He teased. He let go of her wrist and rolled to his feet in one smooth movement, shrugging out of his kimono top, letting his hair down and toeing off his sandals, before he crawled into his sleeping bag.

Sakura blinked, amused despite herself, and absently ran her finger over her lower lip. She glanced at her own bedroll, growing cooler with every second the fire wasn't keeping it warm, and back at Yuki. Her mind was made before she even realised.

She shed her flak jacket and chest armour and toed off her boots, then carefully untangled the poison-laced ninja wire from her braid as she let her hair down, then finger-combed it into a low ponytail. She reached under her turtleneck and loosened her chest bindings slightly, then grinned. She tiptoed over to the Yuki-shaped lump and dropped to her knees, unzipping the sleeping bag and crawling in.

"This bed is already occupied, pinky-chan." Yuki quipped, then hissed. "And keep your icy toes away from me if you still want to have the full set come morning."

Sakura laughed and ignored the grumbling, poking the raven until he dutifully turned over and let her burrow into his chest, arms going around her shoulders with a sigh.

She felt his hands move behind her back and felt the genjutsu go up, hiding the chakra barrier she'd set up before from view.

Safe and warm, Sakura allowed herself a small, content smile before she let sleep claim her.

Yoshino walked through the door to her house with all the grace and fatality of a panther on a hunt.

"You have thirty seconds," she told Shikaku quietly, her arm freshly out of its sling even as barely a day had passed since it had been broken, "to explain why Shikamaru wasn't wearing his clan jacket when he visited me."

Shikaku sighed and ran his hand through his hair, pushing the papers he'd been working on away as he turned to look at his wife.

"I made a mistake." He said, weary and regretful and bitter and straight to the point. "I overreacted."

"Yes. You did." Yoshino agreed easily, and just like that the iciness vanished from her expression. "Shikamaru did too." When Shikaku snapped to attention, she sighed. "He cried, Shikaku." She confessed, falling into the chair beside him. "Crawled onto my bed in the hospital and wept like a child."

Shikaku ached.

"I don't know what happened." He admitted, unusually morose. "I had noticed he'd changed back when the Mist-nin was being tried. It was obvious he'd continue to do so. I just… I wish he'd have told me."

"He apologised for that." Yoshino said quietly, raising a hand to smooth back his wayward hair. "He said he wanted to see what he could achieve without the support of the Clan. He said he didn't even think to tell you, at first, and once he did, he held back because he thought that, well." She paused, expression pinching slightly with pain. "He thought that you wouldn't approve."

Shikaku blinked.

"He thought that I wouldn't approve of him growing up?" he repeated, just to make sure he'd heard right.

"Of him growing up and apart from the Clan." She confirmed, and let her hand drop from his hair.

"For supposed geniuses, we can both be stupid, it seems." Shikaku sighed, feeling slightly better when Yoshino smiled.

"That you can." She agreed. "Competence has changed him, Shikaku. That's true. But your little boy is still in there. Don't lose him now because you refuse to see it."

Shikaku sighed and sat up. "I won't." He pulled one of the blank sheets of paper towards him and reached for the brush. "Do you know if we still have a pair of jounin hoops laying around somewhere?" he asked absently, pretending not to see the brilliant smile that lit up Yoshino's face as she turned to leave the room.

She reappeared when he was half-way through the letter, and laid down a small jewellery box and an envelope by his free hand. Shikaku finished the letter with a flourish, addressed the envelope, then threw the letter and the earrings inside before sealing the envelope up.

"Wife of mine," he called, considering the envelope, "is it too late to put in a request for a genin delivery to Suna, do you reckon?"

Grow up, Tsunade had said.

She's moved on, Shikamaru had snapped.

Team 7... won't be back, Naruto. Kakashi had sighed, quiet and world-weary and resigned.

And...maybe. Maybe they would never be a proper team again, Naruto had been slowly acclimatizing himself to that idea. Still, he wasn't ready to just let go.

Which was how he found himself in front of Sakura's house.

It hadn't been easy, finally getting her address, but whatever Tsunade seemed to think, he was still a ninja. And yet, as he stood in front of Sakura's house, one of the windows still missing, bloodstains still visible on the pavement just before the steps that led to their doorstep, he realised that he felt more like a little lost boy. Swallowing, he glanced around, and though the glass-less window with billowing curtains was tempting, he snuck around to the back where no-one could see, hopped the fence, and found himself in the back-garden. He was struck by how...normal it seemed. Deck chairs, an abandoned volleyball, a small greenhouse in the back corner - there were no obvious signs that the house belonged to ninja.

And then, as he opened the window and made to hop through into what seemed to be a corridor, he swore and let go of the window sill, dropping into the bush underneath in order to avoid the – very liberal – spray of projectile weapons that came shooting at him out of nowhere. Slowly, he raised his head and tried again, only to cut his hand on the window frame. He cursed again when his hand came away not only bleeding, but dripping a viscous, oily purple – one look at the window showed a coating of the same substance around the entire frame.

Poison. his mind supplied, and he frowned, not too worried about any adverse effects – the fox would take care of those – but wondering just how paranoid one had to be to booby trap their window not once but twice.

Finally, he hopped over the sill, swaying only a little when he landed - apparently, the poison was more potent than he gave it credit for – and found himself in an unlit corridor. He walked along a little, to the front of the house, passing the unwalled kitchen and living room, separated from each other only by a small bar. On the right, however, was a wooden door, slightly ajar, and Naruto caught a glimpse of pale yellow walls and a vanity table, and his heart skipped a beat.

He pushed the door open and stepped in, noting the broken shelf in one of the bookshelves and the shattered glass by the window, clear signs of the fight that had taken place not even a week earlier.

But, if it weren't for the vanity table and the colour of the walls, Naruto would've struggled to say the room belonged to a girl, much less to Sakura-chan. Books, scrolls, notebooks and treatises littered almost every flat surface, the shelves seemingly creaking under the weight of all the paper and knowledge contained within. The bed was neatly made, almost utilitarian, save for a hot-pink stuffed dinosaur, tucked almost mockingly under the covers.

What threw Naruto the most in the room were the walls - almost every inch was covered by paper, handwritten and colour-coded, spanning from what Naruto judged to be history notes – ew – to meticulously detailed diagrams and theories on new jutsu – huh? – and, to his surprise, detailed, thorough profiles on members of the Akatsuki and an assortment of other A and S-Rank shinobi, including Kakashi. Naruto squinted at two profiles in particular – U.I and H.K – and a word written in bold strokes next to them, connected by two arrows: NARUTO.

Next to that, connected by another arrow, was a map with different coloured dots and dates, with one, simple heading: Sightings.

Naruto's throat grew tight.

Even when he wasn't here, even when he hadn't even written to her once, even when he called her a monster and refused to accept she had grown up and moved on, Sakura had been looking out for him.

Apart from the notes and diagrams and evaluations stuck to the walls, only one other thing was prominent – photos.

They littered every flat surface, some in frames, some on stands, some stuck to the walls. There were photos of Sakura with a tall, blue-haired boy, one of them in the middle of a kenjutsu match, one of their backs, with Sakura's arm looped through the boy's, her head turned up and towards him, a smile on the visible part of her face.

There were photos of her and Shikamaru, laying around in various places and in various positions, but all had them smiling contentedly, happy and at ease in each other's presence. There were photos of Sakura with two men that Naruto vaguely recognised, and in those, Sakura was almost always laughing or glaring, while the duo sported grins or ridiculous expressions, and the photos radiated comfort, an easy camaraderie. There was a photo of Sakura with a toddler, a soft, unguarded expression on her face as she fed the baby what looked like apple compote, her eyes twinkling even on the 2D still-image. There was even a photo of Sakura with the crazy proctor from the Forest of Death, a plate of at least two dozen dango sticks between them, a dozen skewers already discarded on the side.

But most of all, Naruto's gaze was drawn to the photos of Sakura and a brown-haired man, one he finally recognised as the proctor of the final stage of the Chunin Exams, the same one he'd seen a much younger version of in the photos in the corridor.

In those photos, Sakura was glowing.

There were easily just as many photos of just the two as there were of everybody else put together. One showed Sakura covered in flour, an egg in her loose hair, smooshing her cheek to the brunet's equally flour-covered one, smearing chocolate over his chin with her fingers. Another was clearly taken in a training ground, and it showed Sakura, a head and change shorter than she was now, with her back to the camera, seemingly trying to burrow into the brunet's embrace that was so warm and intimate it made Naruto jealous and uncomfortable at once.

There were dozens of photos, dozens of scenarios, but each and every single one was unfailingly domestic, documenting a life Naruto had no part in and no rights to. They showed a bond that would withstand the end of the world, and Naruto suddenly realised that this was what he'd been chasing.

The 'bond' he'd had with Sasuke. Wasn't that what it was all about? Wasn't that why he'd been angry? That Sakura had looked at him, looked at what he'd spent years chasing, getting stronger for, and spat on it? Called him a fool for believing his bond with Sasuke could be salvaged, if there was anything left of it in the first place? He had been angry and she hadn't minced her words, hadn't cared that they could be hurtful.

He still wasn't fully over it, still hadn't completely forgiven her for it. Because Sakura's words had always been her greatest weapons, and back in that training ground where he'd attacked her, they'd been wrapped in barbed wire and aimed to hurt. The accusation of monster that he'd thrown at her had been instinctive, thoughtless, but… he still wasn't entirely convinced he'd been wrong.

They'd both been in the wrong, with him too stuck on what once was and her refusing to see what could be if she only gave it a chance.

Still, as he took in the proof of the life Sakura had managed to build from the ashes of their old team, some of his bitterness abated.

He'd listen to Tsunade, make himself useful to the Village, find out what he'd missed… and then, when Sakura got back, he'd try to extend the olive branch. He could forgive and learn and move on.

Could she?

Uchiha Itachi. Genma mused absently, still reeling as he made his way out of the Village, focusing on the familiar pulse of chakra in the seal he shared with his partner. They brought Uchiha Itachi in for Shimura's trial. The Massacre was a cover-up. Uchiha Itachi is a hero, fucked up and not all there in the head but a hero nonetheless, while the Sandaime is a coward. The world is coming to an end.

He wondered whether it was possible to have one's entire worldview flipped on its head in the space of a few hours. He'd finished the chakra-sealing tags just in time for the trial, handed them in to Tsunade and then been ushered to the courtroom not two hours later. Shimura had been brought in, looking bitter and even frailer than he'd had before being imprisoned.

Then Jiraiya had taken the reins, and what the testimony had revealed had been enough to make Genma's stomach roil. Ibiki and Anko had been thorough, each slowly going over what they'd dug up, calling in first agent codenamed Sai then Inoichi and Shikaku, hammering in the extent of the depravity that the Sandaime had allowed to go on under his nose for decades, and who the orchestrator of the whole thing had been. Throughout it all, Shimura managed to look bored and vaguely annoyed.

Then, Tsunade got up.

"There is more. What we are about to reveal is likely something a lot of you would've preferred stay hidden. However, I am the Godaime Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaf, and I refuse to condemn a living man to preserve the memory of a dead one."

And with those words, she waved her hand, and Uchiha Itachi was walked through the door and into the courtroom, ANBU guards on each side.

Naturally, the room was thrown into pandemonium.

Kunai went flying, jounin sprang to their feet, ANBU materialised out of nowhere to surround Tsunade in a protective formation, the Hyuuga had all activated their Byakugan and through it all, the Uchiha didn't even twitch.

"ENOUGH!" Tsunade's booming voice and a paralysing pulse of chakra had seen everyone freeze and sit back down, and finally, the Uchiha was allowed to give his testimony.

It proved to be the final nail in Shimura's coffin, even if more than half of the room regarded the Uchiha with blatant suspicion and distrust.

But the fact remained that as Shimura was handed a death sentence and thrown into the highest-security cell to await execution, Uchiha Itachi was marched into a similar cell, beside his brother and the dozen or so surviving ROOT members that had been rounded up, and told to wait until his trial could be held.

On orders or not, the man was still a mass-murderer and had been part of one of the most fearsome organisations in the Shinobi Nations. One good deed didn't invalidate years of fear.

And then Genma had been ordered to go to Kiri, as 'support' for Sakura's diplomatic mission, even though he sincerely doubted his partner needed any support. But like the good soldier he was, he'd packed up and left the same evening of the trial, because Aoba's couch was starting to fuck with his spine and he wasn't going to venture into their house until the genin team got the bloodstains out of the upholstery.

At last, he felt the flicker of familiar chakra and pulled, and the here-but-not-here of the Hiraishin almost didn't make him dizzy anymore.

"Genma!" Sakura called when he regained his bearings, jumping up from– from where she'd been laying across Yuki's lap while the assassin in question napped against a tree-! "We were wondering when you'd catch up!" she grinned, bounding in for a hug, in considerably higher spirits than when he'd last seen her. At the mention of 'we', Yuki cracked an eye open and regarded Genma with a lazy smirk.

"Indeed we were. You took your time, Shiranui." He observed casually, mirth and schadenfreude flickering across his eyes.

Genma grit his teeth and reminded himself that holding onto decades-long grievances really wasn't healthy, and that his kid might be upset if he killed her friend. "Well, so did you." He snarked back instead, "You could've been in Kiri by now."

"True," Sakura agreed as she offered up a hand to Yuki and helped heft him to his feet, "but you've got 'westerner' written across your forehead and don't have one of these," she pointed at the Kiri headband around her neck, "to cover it, so we decided to wait instead of leaving you to the tender mercies of Water's indigenous tribes."

Genma blinked. Parsed through the explanation until one thing stood out, "Indigenous tribes?" he echoed.

The look Sakura levelled him with was almost as infuriating as Yuki's quiet laughter. "There are fourteen islands in the Land of Water, not counting Kirigakure proper. You think there wouldn't be aboriginal people on any of them?"

"Never really thought about it." Genma shrugged, "The books I read about Kiri didn't mention any either."

"Remember what happened to Uzushiogakure?" Yuki asked, casually inserting himself into the conversation as he slung his pack over his shoulder and sidled up to stand on Sakura's other side. "Their princess went off to marry your Shodaime and revealed her Clan's ability. Fast-forward a few years and the whole island was slaughtered. Mist's tribes haven't shared their fate because they make sure they're the ones doing the slaughtering and not being slaughtered. Anybody who breaches their land who's not Mist never leaves."

His kid just nodded along like that was a perfectly reasonable explanation and fell into step with Genma, fiddling with her obi, and Genma didn't bother to fight fondness that surged up, nor the urge to reach out and ruffle her bangs even as the action earned him a huff and a dirty look.

It was only then that Genma really registered the fact that the further away she got from Konoha, the more layers of herself Sakura seemed to have shed. She now stood beside him looking more like Yuki in his hunter-nin gear than a Konoha shinobi, the grey hakama pants tucked into her combat boots being all that remained of Sakura-the-Konoha-jounin. The jounin flak jacket was gone, as was the chest armour and charcoal turtleneck, replaced instead by one a shade lighter than her trousers and a navy-grey kimono, in muted colours that Genma knew instinctively would blend perfectly with the permanently misty landscape and greystone architecture of Kirigakure. He knew for a fact the kimono stashed almost as many weapons as Sakura's flak jacket had, but he'd gotten used to almost utilitarian practicality, and seeing all the excess material, the overlong sleeves, and the billowing legs of her trousers still threw him for a loop.

Then he didn't have much time left to ponder as they were nearing the edge of the peninsula and Sakura raced off ahead. When he and Yuki caught up, Sakura had already hopped onto the sampan and was in the process of greeting the boatman, grasping his forearm in a firm hold and topping it off with a shallow bow. Then, she plopped down beside him and began nattering with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

When Genma and Yuki boarded, the boatman sobered up. "Yuki-ue," he greeted quietly, not meeting the assassin's eyes, "back at last. And…?"

"Shiranui Genma of Konohagakure, sendō-san." Genma bowed, nodding at Sakura. "The kid's mission partner."

And that, of all things, seemed to have dispelled most of the doubt from the man's eyes, and they set off, Sakura's excited chatter filling the silence, interrupted every once in a while by their guide's quiet contributions.

When they were nearing the mainland and Sakura made to hop off, the boatman rested a hand on her arm. "The third years are being let out early today," he said softly, offering Sakura a tiny smile, "I'm sure Kaoru-chan for one would love to see you."

The grin that split Sakura's face was brilliant in its brightness and she bowed her thanks, hopping off and making a beeline for the main gates, ignoring Yuki's amused, 'wait up, pinky-chan, the Academy's not going anywhere!'.

Still, he didn't make too much of an effort to catch up, and Genma was left walking leisurely beside his fellow assassin despite the itch to go off after his partner. "The Academy?" he asked at last, when no explanation seemed forthcoming.

Yuki offered him an infuriatingly amused, I-know-something-you-don't smirk. "Your kid has a fanbase." was all he said, and Genma ground his teeth and counted backwards from ten to reign back the temptation to smack the expression off his face.

But when they neared the imposing building of the Academy, Genma had to inwardly apologise for his earlier instinct because Sakura was indeed surrounded by a sea of colourful heads, each of which stood around waist to elbow height and seemed to be crowing excitedly. A glance at the assassin on his left showed an I-told-you-so expression, and Genma kept his apology to himself, choosing instead to walk over to his kid and see what the commotion was about.

The first call of 'Sakura-neechan!' had him freezing in his tracks.

But Sakura was laughing, patting heads and ruffling bangs and congratulating left and right when the excited students showed off what Genma realised were cleanly-cut leaves cupped in their palms and he stifled the hysterical laughter that threatened to escape.

Of course his kid got honorary big-sister status by showing the Mist kiddies 'cool chakra tricks'. Why was he even surprised at this stage?

"Well done everyone!" Sakura congratulated with a smile, and each of the roughly twenty brats that surrounded her seemed to grow a foot with pride. "What do you say to congratulatory ice-cream? First one there gets two scoops!"

And as the gaggle of preteens tore off towards what Genma presumed was the ice-cream stand, Sakura approached the only boy who had hung back the whole time and hadn't joined with the excited greeting and showing off.

"And how have you been, Yoshirō-kun?" she asked gently, kneeling beside the boy. Upon being addressed, Yoshirō raised his head, and Genma was treated to a view of startling magenta eyes and a shy smile.

"The Yondaime's bastard." Yuki spoke up out of nowhere, suddenly at Genma's side, tipping his chin at the boy Sakura was speaking to. He snorted when the boy opened his palm and instead of a leaf, revealed pebbles that lifted up and began rotating around his hand, then spread to his wrist. "Freaky eyes and ridiculous competence are in his blood."

Genma watched as Sakura ruffled Yoshirō's hair just like she'd done to all the other children, then stood up. He saw the flicker of something on her face when the boy stretched his arms out to her with a pleading expression.

"Does she know?" he asked absently when Sakura obligingly bent down and hefted the boy into her arms, settling him on her hip much like she did Kei.

Yuki snorted. "Of course she does. Takes great pleasure in berating whoever tries to warn her off the kid too."

Village pariah, shunned for his blood and parentage… this better not be some fucked-up form of penance. Genma thought wryly, then smiled as Sakura met his eyes.

She walked over, the boy in her arms growing alarmed when he saw Yuki and Genma and seemed to shrink, fear flickering across his expression. "We're going to the ice-cream parlour, wanna join?" She announced cheerfully, and Yoshirō seemed to tense even more.

Yuki raised an eyebrow. "And the Mizukage?"

"I saw the gate guards send a messenger when we came in." Sakura replied, waggling her finger at the assassin. "Mei-sama knows we've arrived, and she knows how and where to find me. Gen?"

Genma looked from his partner, to the child in her arms, and back again. "I'll go to the bar, I think. Or a bookstore." He said casually, then made sure to be as non-threatening as he could as he bent down, trying to ignore the lance of pain that shot through him at the boy's automatic wince. Just a child, just a child, why can they never see that the 'monsters' they see are just children-! "Nice to meet you, Yoshirō-kun. I'm Genma, Sakura's guardian and partner."

The boy's eyes widened almost comically but he nodded shyly, then turned to Sakura with a curious expression on his pale face. "Your tokubetsuna hito, neechan?" he whisper-asked, and Sakura blushed, glaring when Yuki started snickering.

"Y-yes, Yoshirō-kun, precisely." She stammered out, smiling sheepishly at Genma, but he could do little more than laugh and ruffle her hair in turn.

"I'm flattered, kid. Now run along, I'm sure you've kept the other kiddos waiting long enough." He shooed them along, and Sakura waved, still flushed pink, and disappeared in a flawless shunshin.

"Not a word." Genma snapped at Yuki, aware that his ears and the back of his neck were flaming hot, not even having to look at him to know the man was about to say something annoying. "Not a goddamn word, Kaijin."

Yuki's snickers followed him all the way to the bar.

The next day, Sakura was sitting in the Mizukage's office, Genma at her side, trying not to lounge comfortably as she found herself wanting to do. Genma had used the previous evening to catch her up on the Danzo Shitstorm, and apparently, Uchiha Itachi of all people was now on their side. To say the news had her ill at ease would be an understatement, but she swallowed her unease and compartmentalised and did her damnest to focus on the present.

Mei sat behind her desk, that dazzling, indulgent smile on her face betraying her amusement, Ao and Chojuro standing guard behind her. Sakura had been surprised to find the familiar shape of the Kubikiribocho strapped to Ao's back, even though Chojuro had told her months back about the Mizukage's decision. A reimbursement, of sorts, for the Byakugan he'd given up.

"Reinforcements, you say?" Mei murmured, considering Sakura carefully. When the rosette nodded in confirmation, she sighed. "You are aware of the non-aggression treaty between Kiri and Oto?"

"Yes, Mei-sama." Sakura confirmed again, then offered the woman a wry smile. "Though I believe your daimyo can be persuaded to prioritise supporting the alliance with Konoha over a lose-lose agreement with Oto."

Mei laughed, bell-like and amused. "You seem to be under the misconception that my daimyo is a reasonable man." She teased, and Sakura felt more than saw Genma do a double-take beside her.

Instead of addressing Genma's obvious bewilderment over the Mizukage happily joking with Sakura at the expense of her daimyo, she focused her attention solely on Mei. She tried for a similar glittering smile as that of the older woman, though she knew she could never quite achieve the same air of femme fatale the other seemed to radiate.

"He need not be reasonable so long as he can understand the repercussions of losing trade and connections with Konoha when compared to losing the same with Otogakure." She demurred, then sweet smile turned sharp. "I think I can reasonably predict what he'll pick, don't you, Mei-sama?"

Beside her, Genma choked, though the noise was drowned out by Mei's chuckle. "I'm glad to see your sharp-edged diplomacy hasn't dulled any." Then, her amusement turned into almost discomfiting focus in a flash. "I can spare… a platoon of my shinobi. Three, maybe four squads – ninjutsu, close combat, a mix of both, and…?" she trailed off, raising an eyebrow as she addressed Sakura.

Sakura frowned, mind whirring. "Medic-nin, if you've got any to spare. If not… wind users." She pronounced at last.

Mei tilted her head, but obligingly wrote the request down. Then, putting the pen down, she shot Sakura a devious grin. "So, now that the boring stuff is over… when are you going to make an honest man out of my darling Chou-chan, Sakura-chan?"

Sakura wasn't the only one who choked.

Minutes later, they were out of the office, walking back to their accommodation, Sakura's cheeks still tinged pink after that damned question Mei had dropped on her. Genma was amused to note that she hadn't been able to look at Choujuro, much less meet his eyes for the remainder of the meeting.

Still, even as frazzled as she was, she would've had to be blind not to notice the restless energy he was radiating. Finally, it seemed she couldn't hold it anymore and sighed.

"Fancy sharing what's on your mind?" she asked, turning to the brunet with a grin.

"Hm?" he pretended obliviousness, but Sakura snorted.

"Oh, come on, Gen, you've been odd since we got here. Just say what's bothering you, you're scaring me."

He reckoned that was fair. "You like it here, don't you?" he asked at last, a bit of a non sequitur, but he reckoned he was allowed.

"Yes…?" Apparently, he wasn't, because Sakura looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "I am the Ambassador to Kirigakure." She said, slowly, enunciating every word with exaggerated precision. "Liking the Village and wanting it to prosper is kind of in the job description." Then, she really looked at him, and her eyes widened, "You're not planning an international incident, right? Cause Mei-sama likes me, but-!"

Genma snorted, the sound a bit more wry than he'd intended. "That's just it. The Mizukage likes you."

Sakura's eyes narrowed contemplatively, smile dimming. "I'd say so, yes." She said carefully. "I still think that, that very first time, she agreed to hear me and Shika out simply because we amused her. We were quite ballsy, thinking back on it; half her age and telling her to her face that she wasn't running her country well enough while half her people were still afraid to look her in the eye cause she was the holder of two bloodlines-!" Sakura cut herself off, the humour in her voice disappearing as she almost forcefully switched tracks. "But that's beside the point. Yes, I think she likes me. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing." Genma shrugged, trying for convincing. "It must be nice, being friendly with another Kage, helping out at the Academy, being known in a foreign Village on a first-name basis…"

"Yeah, it is. I really-!" again, Genma could see Sakura shifting mental tracks, saw the moment her eyes narrowed further. "You haven't called me 'kid' or a variation of thereof once." She pointed out. Startled, Genma barely stifled the snort that threatened to escape, and didn't quite manage to control the widening of his eyes, just as Sakura pinned him with a sharp look. "Genma, are you… questioning my loyalty?" she asked at last, but her tone was more curious than accusatory.

Genma pulled the senbon from his mouth, stashed it in his pouch, took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it out. Then, he looked Sakura in the eye, and answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Huh." To his surprise, Sakura's lip quirked upwards. "I trust in and am loyal to my Kage." But not to my Village? "I am loyal to my partner, my senpai, my friends, and those who depend on me. I will do what is asked of me as long as that stays true."

Genma was torn between being relieved and simultaneously annoyed with himself for ever doubting that, and frustrated at the non-answer.

"However," Sakura continued, and this time, she met his eyes, the look on her face telling him she knew she was being vague, "if you're asking me whether I would just as readily serve Mei or Gaara? If I would be just as happy as I am in Konoha in Kiri or in Suna? Then yes."

For a second, Genma was stunned. Then – why is she so casual about it?

"If who you're serving under doesn't matter, and you don't have any attachment to Konohagakure as such… why stay?" he asked, driving the nail deeper into his heart, because he was, apparently, a masochist.

And the look Sakura gave him, the sheer helplessness mixed with exasperation and unbearable fondness in her eyes, sent him reeling.

"Because you're there, you idiot." Genma's brain ground to a halt, and Sakura must've noticed because she stopped, and turned to face him. "You and Shikamaru and senpai and Zumo-chan and Ko and Raido and Eri-san and little Kei and Ibiki even at his most prissy, and Iwashi and Aoba – you get the point. But," And then, because clearly, Sakura was intent on pushing the nail in his heart all the way through, she smiled at him, so open and earnest and fond that his breath caught as she finished –

"I would leave all of them behind in a heartbeat if you so much as asked."

Genma couldn't breathe.

When he focused again, he was sitting on a flat rock, level with the lowest-hanging clouds in Kiri, with Sakura sitting a few feet in front, her back to him and her feet dangling over the edge of the cliff.

Cliff?

He stood up slowly, knees shakier than he would've liked – panic attack? – and realised that yes, he was standing on top of one of the massive mountains that surrounded Kiri. Shaking his head, Genma made his way over to the rosette, slowly, not quite trusting his knees just yet, then carefully settled down beside her.

"Come here often?" he asked at last, only realising how silly the question sounded when the corner of Sakura's mouth quirked up, even though she still didn't turn to face him.

"I do, actually. It's calming. Nobody would think to look for me here."

Genma hummed and there was a lull in conversation, a moment of silence, before he spoke again, "I didn't think I was conscious enough to have been able to climb this." He observed, curious as to what the answer was even as he carefully avoided thinking about what exactly had made him space out in the first place.

"You weren't." the tiny smile on Sakura's face grew as she raised her hand and pointed over her shoulder, eyes still not leaving the Kirigakure skyline. Genma followed the direction she was pointing in and found the boulder he'd woken up on. A closer inspection revealed a seal etched into the stone.

"Your Hiraishin?" he asked, surprised, unaware that she'd placed her seals outside of him and Konoha.

Sakura hummed noncommittally, then finally turned to face him. There was humour on her face, but also worry and the slightest hint of doubt. "Feel alright?"

"Yeah." Genma ran a hand through his hair, suddenly sheepish. "I…may have overreacted." At that, Sakura snorted and levelled him with a look that seemed to scream 'you THINK?!'

"But, for the record," and Genma reached out, wrapping his arm around Sakura's shoulders, pulling her into his side and adamantly refusing to coo when she immediately relaxed and melted into him –

"I love you too, kid."

And, because apparently, someone, somewhere had made it a truth-day, Genma found himself sharing another observation.

"You're good with kids." He said, a propos nothing, and Sakura shrugged.

"I've had practice." She demurred, smiling as she seemed to get lost in thought, and Genma was willing to bet she was thinking back to the number of times she or Genma had been called in to babysit Raido and Eri's son. "And it's something I'd like to do, I think, after."

"After?" Genma echoed, tilting his head as he waited for clarification.

"Yeah, y'know, after. After everything is wrapped up and you retire and stuff. Being an Academy sensei would be nice, I think." She elaborated, seemingly not seeing anything wrong with what she said until she realised that Genma was taking just that little bit too long to reply. When she turned to look at him, he wondered what she saw on his face, but he was certain it was interesting.

"After I retire?" he asked, voice rising at the end in askance. "Kid, what-? What makes you think I'll retire?"

Sakura laughed as she finally finished puttering around the kitchenette and sat down opposite him. "I know that the Sannin are still kicking ass at fifty, but they're anomalies. Shinobi don't normally carry on past late thirties, Gen."

Genma blinked, wondering whether the kid was being purposely obtuse or whether she actually didn't understand what he meant. "Let me rephrase," he tried again, hoping his disbelief wasn't as obvious as he thought it was, "what makes you think I'm going to get to retire?"

At that, any traces of humour vanished from Sakura's expression; her face shuttered, contorted in a grimace as if she'd bitten into a lemon, then smoothed out save for a ferocious frown.

"You will." She said forcefully, not meeting his eyes. "You and senpai and Ibiki and Ko and Zumo– you're all going to get to retire." She stressed, voice rising slightly whether in anger or hysteria, he wasn't quite sure.

"You can't guarantee that." He told her, softly this time, like he was soothing a spooked animal.

But if anything, Sakura's heckles only rose further. "I will." She almost snarled, almost managing to hide her denial with the strength of her conviction.

"You can't!" Genma snapped, losing patience. Mortality was something every ninja had to stare down at some point, but normally it was coming to terms with one's own mortality that was an issue, not that of others'. "Every shinobi accepts that any mission could be their last the moment they graduate! You have no control over when I die, Sakura! Accept that I might never get to retire!"

She glared at him, and he was startled to see tears brimming in her eyes. "You have to!" she all but screamed at him. "You're all I have left! You can't– if you don't– I wouldn't–!" and then a vicious sob tore its way out of her throat and she pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle the rest, but it didn't hide the way her shoulders shook or the tears that streamed out of her eyes uninhibited.

Genma felt a cold shiver go down his spine at the realisation that hit him with Sakura's words.

He was faced with the consequence of having become everything to someone who'd had nothing. First a teacher, then a friend, then a guardian, then a partner; they'd lived in each other's pockets for almost five years, and as much as Sakura may have been mature and as much as she may have seen, she'd still been a child when it'd begun. Still was a child, in many respects. She'd been impressionable and desperate and he'd taken her in, offered knowledge and friendship and the promise of a family and a fresh start and–

Goddamnit.

He wondered if this was how Minato had felt when he'd looked at him, or at Kakashi. Orphans, geniuses in their own rights even if Genma had been easily overshadowed by the Hatake, clinging onto anyone who offered them any modicum of affection or recognition. He wondered whether Sakura was going to react to his eventual passing the same way Kakashi had reacted to Minato's.

Or whether she'd be worse.

He wondered why Inoichi hadn't tried to curb the clear dependency Sakura must've been developing for years. Then again, the first time she'd gone to him, after that disastrous mission with Anko and Tamaki, he'd probably encouraged it. And Sakura, for all that she seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve, was very good at denial, and even better at warding off suspicion. Barring a mind-walk, Inoichi may not even be aware of the full extent of Sakura's apparent possessiveness.

The years and experience of loss had blunted Genma's pain at a comrade's death to a dull ache, but he wondered what his reaction would be if the kid were to just… to just…

Fuck.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and rose, walking over to where Sakura sat slumped in her chair, head hanging low, shoulders still shaking with quiet sobs.

"Hey," he soothed, perching on the armrest and lightly rubbing Sakura's back. "I'm sorry. But the Shinigami is going to come for me, whether in a week, or a month, or a decade, I don't know, but you'll have to do something when it happens."

"Iilpunshinvefashe." Sakura mumbled and raised her head, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

"Beg your pardon?" Genma asked, lightly batting her hand away and wiping the tear tracks with the pad of his thumb.

"I will punch it in the face." Sakura repeated, hiccupping on a sigh, and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

Genma didn't manage to hold back the snort, nor the eyebrow that shot up of its own accord. "You will punch the God of Death in the face?" he asked disbelievingly, and the look Sakura levelled him with was answer enough. "Right. Of course you will."

Genma sighed, more fond than resigned this time, and got up, extending a hand to Sakura as well. "C'mon, I'm ordering nap time. That emotional discharge tired me out."

Sakura snorted, though it was still watery, and accepted his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. Once up, she didn't let go, and instead clung close to his side, then clambered onto the bed and pulled him along with her, burrowing into Genma's chest as soon as he was horizontal.

Yeah, he definitely should've noticed earlier, but… well. He was just as good at denial as the rosette, and he'd had a decade extra of experience on how to convince even himself.

At the moment though, warm and comfortable and on that hazy brink between total relaxation and oblivion, he could barely summon the energy to be anything more than grudgingly amused.

(deep down, he knew he was just as bad.)

A week later saw Sakura and Genma heading back to Konohagakure, a platoon of forty Mist-nin in tow. Sakura had been surprised to find Chojuro tagging along, even as Ao and Yuki had to stay behind to guard Mei and oversee the reduced shinobi forces. She'd left Genma to lead while she mingled with the Mist shinobi, chatting about everything and nothing and trading jokes and stories where she could.

They approached the main gates in a surprisingly orderly fashion, some of the Mist shinobi visibly marvelling at the Village even as they had been growing gradually more discontented the further they got from Kiri's climate.

Sakura was surprised to see Tsunade at the gate, all the more so when the blonde bowed to the Kiri delegation, but she reckoned it made political sense. She watched as the Kiri-nin were led away and sighed, all energy suddenly gone.

"I'll meet you at home." Genma muttered, clearly feeling the same sudden wave of exhaustion that had taken over her. He gave a bastardised salute and headed off, presumably towards the bar. Or Aoba's. She wasn't all too sure, but her thoughts were momentarily derailed by the appearance of Neji Hyuuga at the Village gates, and she did a double-take when his gaze focused on her with intent.

"Haruno-san," Neji greeted as he neared, and if he'd been anyone else, Sakura may have called him frazzled. "I find myself in need of a… favour, if you would."

Sakura tilted her head, intrigued, and motioned for the teen to continue.

Neji, to her surprise, shook his head slightly. "Is there anywhere more private we could speak?" he asked instead, and Sakura fought hard to keep her eyebrow from climbing up like she so wanted. Wordlessly, she extended her forearm and after eyeing it dubiously, Neji grabbed it. Sakura blinked, concentrated, and a second later, they landed on top of the Hokage's Monument, right on the Nidaime's hair spikes.

Neji let go and staggered off to the side, gagging, and Sakura let him go, all too used to the sensation to care much for the wave of nausea that accompanied the Hiraishin.

"Alright," she said casually, dropping down to sit astride one of the stone spikes so that her legs dangled off the edge of the cliff, "what can I do for you, Neji-san?"

"I need your help." Neji said, frank and without preamble. "I want to get rid of the Caged Bird Seal."

Sakura choked.

hokay so here we are!

next update probably won't be till mid/late july, but have a 10k monster to tide you over till then. less than a month since the last update too! wooow~!

thank you for your comments and support, as always, tell me what you thought! til next time!