Chapter 6 – Gathering power, losing allies

"The wise warrior avoids the battle."

Friendly trigger warning - mentions (not descriptions!) of rape and abuse in this chapter. Read safe.

Three years ago, the night of the trade deal

It had gone so wrong.

At least, that's all Sakura remembered.

There had been fire, and screams. She remembered the sound of the blades, the rustle of fabric, the swirl of her wakisashi, the delicate ring of Sasuke's long katana.

Her head was heavy and she felt like she was floating – all weight and softness and dampened sensations.

They had been betrayed. Someone knew they were going to try to steal the scrolls, and after they engaged in combat, reinforcements were prompt to appear. The face of Kabuto materialised somewhere in her mind, with fragmented memories. He'd known.

Barely scraping the scrolls away from the warm body of a general, they managed to flee the ambush scene to the shores of a large lake, with more space to fight and turn and kill. They did well, for a while, but …

… What was she thinking about again?

Her head was so heavy, and it was so dark around. She tried to open her eyes, but spots of blue and brown and black were everywhere, swirling and surrounding her.

Where was Sasuke?

She had trouble focusing. Where was she again? She had to move, but her arms and legs were wrapped in something heavy as iron and soft as wool. Everything felt suffocating. She tried to breathe, but all of a sudden, water invaded her lungs and blocked everything. In a desperate last jolt of consciousness, she realised with sheer horror that she was sinking into the dark waters of the lake, too weak and too far away from everything to do anything but see herself die.

She tried to move, tried to yell, but it was almost nearly over, and as she lost what was left of her energy, the dark waters seemed to swallow her whole.

It had gone so wrong.

Sasuke was parading and killing, swishing through bodies with ease and a mastery that made it almost look like dancing. With every falling body, he had kept an eye to Sakura, who was keeping her fair share of opponents away.

She was smaller than them, but for some reason seemed far stronger, and her battling stance, all grace and fury, reminded him a lot of what he heard of Tsunade's. Her shorter blade, made for a closer contact and one-shot blows, required of her to be way swifter and agile than he had to, but matched very well her very powerful blows. It was messier than his style, and he knew why: while he had been taught for many years, hers was a mastery born in battlefields.

The enemies had surrounded them, near the shore of the lake they retreated to. He had not been surprised by their ambush: The Snake had ears everywhere and Sakura's sudden appearance, despite her best efforts, would have had been enough to raise suspicions. He was fairly confident though, that no one would unmask them as none of these men would come out of this fight alive: they certainly did not expect to find another warrior sided with the woman. They had a clear advantage, and, to his surprise, their team of two was incredibly efficient.

What he did not plan were the bombs. In a flash, two small, lit spheres were thrown in between their legs, right in the middle of the battle, and the fighters barely had enough time to jump away to avoid the blast. It went, ear-splitting, overwhelming, raising clouds of smoke from the dry earth, making their heads ring. The Snake's mercenaries did not bother avoiding their own men, as several corpses were lying down, right where the traps were sent. Sasuke managed to get away, painfully recovering and fighting the remaining warriors. It had been, he realised, their last resort: there was almost no one left to face him.

As he plunged his sword into the last beating heart of the Snake's men, he looked around. The field was awfully quiet, and he realised abruptly that he did not hear nor see where Sakura went after the blast. Reeling with an anxiety he was battling, he looked around for her little frame. Maybe she had been buried under corpses, knocked out from the blast?

A flicker, at the surface of the lake, made his stomach churn. It was her small sword, barely floating at the top of the still waters. She was sinking.

A passing thought tried to make him consider leaving her here. After all, he had the scrolls, and he couldn't stay for long. Trying to save her could put him in jeopardy, and would interfere with finding Itachi. He could just leave her here to die, he thought, as he discarded his weapon and ran into the water like a madman.

It would be so simple, to just let the lake surround her and slowly end her life, he thought as he rushed under the dark waters, frantically searching for a spark of colour.

He just had to let go, and this obstacle would be forever removed from his path, he thought as he grabbed her cold hand and brought her inert body to his, propelling them out of the water.

It would be so simple, if she was gone, he thought as he brought her body to the shore, massaging her chest in an attempt to expel water from her lungs.

She had to die.

She couldn't die.

As Sakura came back to life, coughing and expelling water from her throat and mouth, her hands shooting in the air as if she was fighting death itself, Sasuke fell back, sitting in the damp shore, his hands on his own face, raking his hair, torn apart.

He nearly let her die.

He didn't let her die.

What was he doing? He couldn't get distracted. He had to focus on his goal, and his goal only. He was foolish, if he thought he could allow himself to get distracted.

Sakura had rose up, sitting, trying to piece together what just had happened. The ink from her hair was being washed away, and, as she tried to tie it up with her wet ribbon, her trembling hands kept on letting go of her tresses, over, and over again. She was in shock, he could tell, and her eyes went from her darkening palms to her wet body, her haori clinging to her skin, blood escaping from a small wound on her leg. Her movements were stiff and laborious, and he could feel her state of panic and disarray growing stronger with each passing second. She kept trying to close her hands onto her hair, her clothes, her own arms as is she was trying to bring herself some comfort.

He never saw her that disoriented and followed the wild movement of her jade orbs with quiet concern. As she was about to try and get up, her whole frame wet and covered in the spilling ink form her tresses, he firmly, but gently, closed his own hands on hers. It seemed that the trick worked, as she stopped to slowly look at him, their eyes meeting for the first time since their previous fight together. He saw, looking at her, that some powder he didn't realise she wore had washed away and that a purple diamond tattoo stood proudly on the middle of her forehead. It was the Princess's seal, the same as Tsunade's. Sakura had managed to get hers at such a young age? There were only rumours and legends about this source of mysterious power, conveyed only in the biggest secrecy, by very few women warriors. He wondered for a moment why she didn't use it in the fight beforehand.

"I didn't want to attract too much attention ", he heard her whisper, as if she was reading his thoughts.

Sasuke hadn't realise that Sakura had regained her spirits. She was more recollected, her chest lifting slower and slower, and her striking jade eyes were locked straight onto his. Sasuke's breath hitched, struck somewhere in his throat, silently taking her in. This woman would be the death of him, he could feel it in his shaking bones.

"You saved my life", she said softly. "I owe you, more than anything before."

He looked, as she got closer, taking her hands out of his with a fondness he wouldn't have had suspected before, watching her fight. She took her wet ribbon out of her knees, where it had landed, and delicately put it in his open palms. She put both of her hands above it, hiding it from anyone's sight, as if it was the most precious of secrets.

"Sasuke", she whispered, not looking away from him. "If you still want me, and it, and us…"

She took her hands out, and he couldn't help but draw a sharp breath. Her hands were so small, so white, so perfect little things, sliding above his like two small birds. His ribbon, family heir, and probably everything that was left from the Uchiha estate apart from sorrow, was back to him.

There was a beat, a whisper of time, that froze everything. The two lovers were suspended in-between frames, like an old movie halting, just for an instant. They stood apart form a world too cruel, too raw, too real, and, in this beat, in this parallel dimension where nothing but them existed, they were one.

Sasuke's eyes trailed from his hands to the trembling lips of the maiden in front of him, stopping there. She was shivering, he could tell – was it cold, or fear? He took in the curve of her jaw, the plump of her cheek, the grace of her neck, the pointy end of her nose, all the way back up to the beautiful jade eyes. Without breaking their contemplative silence, he raised his hands, entangled in the red ribbon, to her hair. There, slowly, he took in her tresses, braiding them carefully. He settled the long, wet braid of pink hair on her shoulder, indifferent to the ink on his fingers, and tied with a quiet reverence the crimson bond to its end.

He let go of her hair to delicately trace the outline of her face from the tip of his fingers. It traced faint dashes of black on her white skin, and he felt like a clumsy artist scribbling on a masterpiece. He couldn't look away. He knew the second he would look away, say something, everything would be broken. If they talked, then reality would come back, then they would have to fight again, he would have to leave her and he didn't know if he would bear it.

So Sasuke, in the middle of the mud, over the pounding of his own heart, and hers, and their mixed breaths in the heavy air, said nothing. He got up, taking her in his arms, without breaking their eye contact. She was so easily lifted up, so fragile, so strong. She clung to the collar of his drenched kimono top in a silent plea, waiting, willing.

His.

In a breath, he started running. Away from the battlefield, away from everything. He held her to his chest as if he was still dragging her up from the black waters, desperately, frantically, and soon enough they reached their hideout. He only let go of her to sit her on the makeshift futon in the corner of the small room, fetching a piece of cloth. He sat down in front of her, cloth in hand, and froze.

Night had fallen, and it was only shadows in their hideout. The light of the shining moon was peaking from the hole in-between rocks, splaying lazily on walls, caressing Sakura's small form. She was looking at him with the kind devotion he had carried with him for all these years, and she was more beautiful than ever. He heard her breath hitch when he slowly wrapped the fabric around her shoulders, and started rubbing her delicately.

She was shivering, and he could see her skin shiver under his touch, awaking goose bumps where his thumb traced a pattern on her jaw, when he slowed down to make sure she was dry and warm in his arms. Slowly, he removed her haori, letting it slide past her shoulders and elbows, his eyes locked onto hers. She let out a shaky sigh, only in battle gear, tight dark bindings made for combat. His hands, wrapped in the makeshift towel, wiped along her collarbone to the edge of her plexus, alongside her toned stomach, against the soft curves of her hips. His fingers hooked the edges of her hakama, and, in a slow motion, he rolled the wet fabric out of the way, revealing white, slender legs clamped together. His eyes trailed down only to come back to her face, stricken with apprehension, softness, and hints of fear he could not understand.

He slowly rubbed the outside of her legs, down to her feet, with silent care and devotion. She cringed in pain, the gash on her leg seeping with blood. He took fresh bandages and an ointment he had, slowly dabbing away all of her blood, revealing the wound. It was not deep, thankfully, but needed to be covered. He applied ointment in light, precise touches, wishing away the pain, the red, the metal scent of battle from her skin. He could feel her warming up under his fingers, through the fabric, as she grew dryer. Her legs however, stood firmly shut together, and he looked up, wordlessly begging permission to wrap the gauze around her thigh. She looked away, her features torn, lost in what looked like painful memories. It hit him then, what she might've gone through in her previous marriage. A flash came to mind, fed with the worst of what he'd witnessed in brothels around the kingdom, the way women were treated behind closed doors. At the thought of her slender form turned and tossed like a toy, picturing her fighting for pride, keeping a straight face to protect her life, muffling her own sobs, coldness crept in his gut.

Oh, my darling, my beloved, princess of everything.

His hand trailed up, leaving the cloth to her calves to caress her body, along the side of her hips, past her bindings, to gently cup her face turned away from him. He couldn't see her very well in the dark, but when his lips clumsily found her cheek, he felt moisture and his heart sunk. Slowly, deliberately, he kissed her cheeks again and again, her temples, her closed eyelids, once, twice, a hundred times, tasting her tears until her slender arms went to rest around his neck, back to this universe, back to them, suspended in between time and space.

His forehead to hers, breathing slowly, he was rubbing soothing circles of thumb on her skin, entangled in her hair. She looked so lost, so full of love and regret, and his heart sank.

"I am sorry", he finally whispered, in-between butterfly kisses he left on her face, reverent, feverish of the moments stolen away from them, forever. "I wish everything would've gone differently."

One more kiss, a dozen, a hundred.

"I am sorry", he repeated. "So sorry I've left you to him. To them."

Her arms around his neck tightened, bringing him closer. Sakura's aura changed, he could feel it shifting in the air, thick as smoke. She brought his lips to hers, fiercely, softly, and pulled away only when she deemed it enough – he complied wilfully.

"Don't be", she said, voice strangled. "They stole it from us. From you. From me. Everything that could've been."

Her forehead back on his, Sakura looked at Sasuke, her fingers threading with fondness in his black curls. They grew so much, since she last saw him. Everything changed, really, since that time – they were no longer children, no longer innocent, were they? His broad shoulders, the caress of his breath on her lips, all of these were new sensations, a part of him she greedily welcomed, a part of him that should've been hers a long time ago. The rays of the moon were stroking his high cheekbones, pooling sparks of light in his black eyes with everything resembling a winter night's sky, and she wanted nothing more but to throw herself in, wholly, entirely.

The balm on her leg wound was already working, her pain ebbing away. Sasuke's hand had found a resting spot on her hips, warm and caring. She found in this man the echoes of the boy she once adored, and her heart was fluttering with every beat, every look, every little thing he did that brought her back home. Oh, how she adored that child, that man, without the shadow of a doubt, no matter who he became, how she wanted nothing but to stand by his side. She would turn the world around, overthrow shoguns and emperors, ruin this country for him to retrieve his clan's honour, for him to be free again. She was scared of how calm and willing she was to sacrifice more and more to help him to be released from all of his past's burdens. Free to come back to her.

Oh, my warrior, my friend, my fallen Prince.

She unhooked her arms from around his neck as one low, disgruntled groan escaped his throat. The sound made her shiver, and she could feel his eyes on her, consuming and making her ache and burn for something she had yet to discover. She took the cloth that had fallen next to them, and started to rub his neck, his torso, opening his kimono top as she went, planes of white skin, soft to the touch and cold as marble appearing to the moonlight. She made him remove it, just he did with her, letting it fall beside them, his strong arms just here, at a fingertip's reach. She carried on, brushing the cloth on his collarbones, along his toned biceps, alongside his defined stomach. His body was covered in scars, some newer than others, some pale as a whisper, almost memories.

She went to ask him to remove his hakama, but his hand grabbed her wrist in the dark, stopping her still. She went up to look at him, but he was looking away, his face stuck in the combination of shyness and embarrassment. He was hard, they both knew it, both could feel the tension ravaging the air, the want in their gestures, slow and deliberate. She let go of the cloth to trace the line of a nasty scar, going all the way from his shoulder to under his heart from the tip of a finger. He quivered but said nothing. She was tracing a pattern, writing a story, perhaps, trying to reconnect all the scars, all the murmurs of his past.

"I know so little of you", she let go in a soft sigh. "I just heard stories, here and then, of who you had become."

Her fingers stopped on a pale streak, slid onto another one, waking fire on their path. Sasuke was barely containing his shivers as she was idly discovering his body, his own hands on his sides, letting her lead the way. Her conditions, her rhythm. He didn't want to frighten her, didn't want to desecrate her with his thoughts, didn't want to scare her away with the force of his rumbling deliberations, by showing her how much power she actually held on him in this moment, bathed in moonlight.

"It doesn't matter", he finally answered in a low breath, nuzzling her neck, nibbling her soft skin as he went along.

Who had he become, really? Beaten boy, man on the roads, rônin, mercenary, man of many ways, man of many bodies. Was he really this man? Was this man even worthy of her? Those were hard questions, for a bitter morning to come. However, his nose in her hair, her scent invading his whole mind, her hands everywhere on him seemed to be begging him to come back to her.

"I was hearing things too", he admitted. "I always kept an ear out for you. What you were becoming. Where you were. If you were safe."

His hands came to snake up around her waist to squeeze her against him. She yelped softly, dragged onto his lap, before settling in. She was melting against him, all warm skin and scent of ink, blood and flowers. He buried his head in her hair, his lips resting somewhere under her ear.

"… I lost track of you at the battle of Awazu. I heard Asano had brought you onto the battlefield with him, I heard he died. But no news of you, anywhere."

The last words came as a strangled plea, a broken admission of weakness.

"… I thought you were dead."

At his words, Sakura shivered. Awazu and Asano – names burdened with misery and anxiety, a cold feeling pooling in her stomach.

"What he did to you…" he squeezed her onto him even harder, as if this could be possible. His voice had become looming. "…I wish I was the one who ended his life. I would have had opened his gut for the crows to feast on. He would've known no peace, nor eternal rest. I would've…"

"Shh", a soft voice stopped him. "These are my burdens to bear. I am no longer the girl you've loved, nor I am broken. Not anymore."

Sakura pried herself away from him and his crushing embrace, to look at him better, her hands cupping his regal jaw.

"All of this… It was worth it. I would've done it again, and again, in a heartbeat. It made me stronger. It made me."

Her thumbs were soothing against his high cheeks.

"I am not a princess to save, nor I am what happened to me. I am strong, I am me, and I am here."

Without allowing him time to reply, she took his lips in a mind-searing kiss. It was raw, unbridled, so far from the person she knew he thought of her.

But that girl was gone. She had waited, cried, fought, left a woman in her wake; and that woman wanted him and everything else that had been taken away.

She let go of him only when they were both panting, hands raking in her hair, hers across the expanse of his chest. She looked at him, breathless, that boy who was dead and reborn, eying her with such yearning, like nothing else existed. She wanted to dissolve, disappear, melt somewhere in-between his fingers and his lips, be his forever. His mouth was swollen and red from hers, and she felt as if her heart was lifting. A feeling of want, stronger than she ever felt before, made her roll her hips into him. He answered in a strangled groan, grabbing her waist firmly, both as if she was his anchor and his damnation.

"So, now…" she whispered against his skin, her mouth resting sloppily against his temple, "… let me allow you to love me."

At her words, Sasuke felt like a dam had broken down inside of his mind. The all-consuming, raging thoughts he had about the woman –the goddess, the princess, the queen, oh- on him were washed away by a new level of intensity, a fiery, urgent need to claim her, make her his, clouding every other roaring voice of reason.

His fingers were now digging in the soft flesh of her thighs, making her roll onto him, making her whimper and moan, making him go mad of her voice and the new, raw pitches he was discovering, small, precious treasures. He left her lips to plant heated kisses from the side of her jaw to the slope of her neck, and finally in the valley in-between her breasts, kissing, then nibbling where his mouth had access. He heard her moan as his tongue found the side of her breast, felt her hands rake the scalp of his hair as he took delicately a nipple in between his teeth through her bindings, nibbling then kissing with reverence and fervour.

And oh, how she gasped when he grabbed and tenderly squeezed at her bottom, how she begged and cried out his name when his fingers went past her underwear to stroke at the apex of her thighs, how they panted and moaned until the barrier of his hakama and her underwear became all too much. He soon lost all of the remaining control he had as they flipped onto the makeshift mattress, amongst what remained of their wet clothes, tangled legs and arms, kissing, and touching with renewed heat and tenderness. She wrapped her hand around him, hesitant and wanting, and it took everything he had to not come undone there. The red haze of his thoughts did not dissipate until she hurried him out of his remaining clothing, taking the sight of him inside her parted legs devoid of all clothing, long, white marvels, made for fighting and being kissed.

The sight of her and the flash of vulnerability in her wide jade eyes stopped him for a beat, and he leaned down on her to stroke her cheek, kissing everywhere his fingers had been, concluding by a long, delicate, soothing kiss. She was everything, everything he wanted, the best he could ever have. He could not ever stomach the feeling of scaring her, forcing her, not loving her the way she deserves.

When he finally took her, with the upmost passion, the most caring devotion, the fondness he thought he lost, he realised that it probably just stayed here, with her, this kindness and this love for her and her only, a feeling that now belonged to her as it had been for the past three years.

Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck to bury her face against his chest, listening to his rumbling heart, relishing in the scent of his skin and hers mixing together, the feeling of him inside of her as if he always belonged there, wiping away her fears and erasing the memories of her body being torn and used. Under his hands and his frame, she felt like she belonged, and pressed against him, the world was rewriting itself. There was no war, no violence, and swords remained unsheathed.

Everything was good.

Sakura hurried out of the room as soon as the assembly finished, with as much grace and elegance she could muster, her jūnihitoe rustling at all of her steps. The blow was hard, really hard. So few had come; so few of the lords that she needed to protect herself and her estate. From behind her decorated panel, she had seen Shinzo staring right at her, and she saw in his sharp, cerulean eyes the pain of being right, alongside a small, inviting smile. That look was haunting her, and, despite her best efforts, terrifying her.

Back in her quarters, she hurried past her maids, removing layers and layers of her dress as she was moving forward, under their indignant gasps.

"Madam, what if someone saw you… Madam, please!"

She couldn't breathe. She felt trapped, her dress feeling like a heavy armour dragging her under the water. She could almost taste it again, the muddy waters running through her throat and nose, she could almost feel her vision shrinking. She grabbed onto the edge of her desk, papers flying away, ink now spilled on the floor next to its porcelain pot. She felt as if the world was spinning, all of her contained thoughts storming back in. She remembered Asano, remembered the battle of Awasu, remembered the sensation of slowly leaving her body as darkness was closing in, under the surface of an unnamed lake. She remembered having her face smothered into a pillow to stifle her sobs, remembered unwanted hands and katana wounds piercing her soft skin.

Focusing on the pattern of a crane delicately carved on a cherry tree cabinet, she forced herself to breathe in long, slow takes. She felt as if her heartbeat was pounding in her head, as if she was going to burst open.

She had been played. There was no other option, now.

No option but to move forward.

She felt movement around her, her maids being scattered away in indignant gasps, she felt the strong presence of her three remaining allies.

The scent of a sun-soaked forest, desert wildflowers and citrus. Naruto.

Musk, soap, iron and vetiver grass. Kakashi.

And finally, finally, a scent clenching to her skin, wrapping itself around her body and mind, a scent she knew by heart, she had felt, tasted, and carried. Burning wood, dust, and crushed berries.

She turned around. They were all looking at her, equally distraught in their own way. Clenching firmly at the desk behind her, heaving for air, her small frame still twisted in her opulent drapery despite her best efforts, she took a few seconds to center herself. She had to find peace. She had to be strong. There was no other choice, no other choice but to fight.

There were her 3 allies. It was them against the world now.

They had to go to war.

"I will do it", she said.

They all took her in silently, waiting for the last words spilling from her little, crimson lips.

"I will marry Akamatsu. We are going to take Danzo down."

3 years ago

Sakura woke up to the sound of birds chattering outside of their hideout, muffled by the stone walls and the covers all around her.

She was crushed against a bare torso, strong arms around her waist pressing her into a large frame. She opened one eye, then a second, taking in the softness of Sasuke's skin under her nose and lips, of their scents mixing together, a mix of dust, sweat, crushed berries and wildflowers. She tried to wiggle away, but was firmly stuck here, so she finally decided to press kisses where she was, barely moving, to finally lift her face to this of her very awake, very entertained lover. She couldn't help but smile widely, feeling as she was about to burst open.

"Could we stay like his forever?" she asked.

"Probably not", he replied. "But another minute, then."

They had been walking since midday, after finally extracting themselves from their hideout. Sakura had not mentioned the case of the scrolls, simply stating that she was going back to the rebellion. Sasuke had followed in silence, which she took in as acceptance. She knew they were closing near to the rebel borders, and some scouts probably already saw them from beyond the mountains.

The air was getting thinner and colder, patches of fog running along the trail, carrying scents of the valley below, smoke and rain. As she was about to continue, she felt a cold hand grab her wrist softly. She turned around to look at Sasuke, her smile instantly fading at his closed-up expression.

Her instincts kicked in, and she turned to fully face him, realisation dawning on her.

"You are not coming back", she said, more a statement than a question. "You just wanted me to be safe, and behind rebel lines." Her voice broke when she realised he had already taken the scrolls from her satchel. "You were never planning to come back with me."

He looked at her, something deep and broken hidden away in those eyes she knew and loved so much. He ribbon was caressing her face as her hair was fluttering around from the mountain breeze.

"There are still things I need to take care of", he started softly. "I need more power, to avenge my clan. Danzô can give it to me, now that the Snake has become useless.

"Is that what I am? Useless to you?"

Watching him, cold, unmoving, was breaking her apart, piece by piece, and she had yet to decide if she was furious or desolate. He did not answer her question, merely looking at her. It was as if he was battling for control, and she could almost feel the tremors of his own indecisions. She knew him too well, this boy posing as a man.

"I won't let you go. I'll drag your unconscious ass to the rebellion if I have to."

They both put a hand on the handles of their respective weapons, unsheathing them. Sakura felt her eyes water, burning her.

"Please, don't make me do it. Come back. Naruto is waiting for you, and I don't think I can carry on another day without you by our side. We need you. I need you."

Sasuke let go of his katana, to her relief, and took a step towards her. She took her weapon out, holding I with one hand at her side, as he walked to her until he was just a breath away. With the same aching slowness, he took in her face in both of his soft, calloused hands, to capture her in a searing kiss, her lips parting for him without any second thought. He broke the kiss as he started it, slowly, delicately, looking at her like she was the single, most incredible thing he had ever encountered. Her body was already aching for his, craved of his touch, and he whispered against her lips.

"Please forgive me."

A sensation, near her jaw, made her realise, but too late, that the scrolls weren't the only thing he stole from her satchel. A small sting, and, very quickly, a numbness invading her whole body.

"Thank you", was the last thing she heard as she was falling, unconscious, in his open arms.

She couldn't help but to breathe him in one last time, pressed against his chest, her lips over his heart, before darkness took her in.

Sakura woke up to the sounds of a small group of rebellion fighters stirring her out of her drug-induced sleep. It only took her seconds for everything to come back. The kiss, the goodbye, the stolen scrolls.

So he had made his choice: power, over honour. Power, over her.

Naruto was amongst them, hovering over her, worried, checking for remaining injuries. She sat down in the grass, grasping for air, as she felt her shoulders tremble, wracking her form with the beginning of deep sobs she was desperate to keep in. The sheer force of her despair slammed into her as she was powerless to contain any of it. She had been so close. So close to bring him back.

Slowly, ignoring her friend, she dragged her knees up to her chest, her hands raking through her hair, and muffled her cries as she knew so well how to do, her mouth against the fabric of her hakama.

In her drowsy state, her nose caught in scents of dust, iron, and crushed berries, caught there in the cloth as reminders of what she had just shared; what had been taken away from her once more.

Her fingers hardened against her scalp as Sakura realised that for the second time in her life, Sasuke had left her behind.

"No."

Naruto growled in the room, closing the panels of her office behind him, shooing the maids away.

"No way you are doing this", he carried on.

"Naruto…" Sakura began.

"No. You listen to me. I'd rather stand guard here every day for the next ten years rather than having you marry that guy. It is not a good solution, and it will put you in danger."

"Plus, you'll have to stay at the capital, right under Danzo's nose. Without us", Kakashi added. "You can't stay here, you'll have to follow Akamatsu. Who will rule over the estate in your absence?"

"You will, Kakashi", Sakura answered.

Her hands grabbed the edges of her kimono to put it back, her breath evening out form her previous outbreak.

"Naruto will come with me, he has friends in the capital. I thought this through. This is our best option to take him down. One way or another, we can't do this from here."

"If you think I am leaving you, you are dead wrong." Kakashi said, moving one step forward.

"We have no other choice", Sakura pressed. "You have seen as much as me who was standing in this room. It is not enough to protect me from Danzo, we all know it. We need to be the smarter men here."

Kakashi took a step back, exhaling in frustration. She knew he had no other choice, he knew she was right. Naruto stared at him with the looks of a deceived man.

"Do not tell me you agree with her. Kakashi, not you."

Without even waiting for an answer, the blonde turned to Sasuke, who had stayed quiet, observing the scene without stepping in.

"And you? Now that she has risked everything to welcome you, you don't have to play the part of the long-lost lover, is that it?!", he growled.

Sasuke took a step forward, a hand on the handle of his sword. Sakura strode in-between them, breaking them apart.

"Enough! Naruto, you will respect my decision. I know the risks."

"We both know who you could ask help from."

Sakura's eyes widened, looking franctically around her, her eyes quickly landing on Kakashi and Sasuke before darting again to Naruto.

"We are not discussing this here", she bit out. "You know this is too early."

Sasuke said no word, but Kakashi's gaze became attentive.

"Oh no Sakura", Naruto interjected. "I think it is time we trust each other, fully. Let's drag them into this. I'll drag the whole country into this if it comes to it", he said, jabbing a finger at her, then pointing outside the rice panels. "She would never agree to this."

Sakura paused for a while, her eyes veiled with an odd mix of melancholy, fondness, and crushing despair.

"Even if I wanted to… There is no way Tsunade could move her troops fast enough. We have no plan. No scenario. Plus, I can't contact her in a secure manner, we have too many eyes resting on us", she added, her gaze turning to Sasuke.

Sasuke held her look, his onyx orbs piercing right through her. His silent stare was not reassuring, but she knew the man too little not to get suspicious. After all, and despite everything gravitating around them, there had been times where their priorities weren't aligned. She knew the bite of his treason, burning, raw, and deep, as if it was part of her own body.

"I'll go", the rônin finally said, and Sakura hated how much her heart lifted at those words. "For you. I'll go talk to Tsunade."

"So, while you and Naruto gather evidence and allies in the capital, I'll defend the estate and try to reach out to old friends. Sasuke, on the side, will talk to Tsunade and convince her to strike swiftly, as soon as you see an opening." Kakashi summed up.

The room fell silent, everybody holding their breath. The four of them looked at each other, realisation dawning on them. A strategy was shaping itself; dangerous, but clear, and here.

They all had to sacrifice something in order for this to succeed, but it finally felt as if Danzô was at the end of a thread.

Kakashi would have to sacrifice his life promise, by securing the estate and not following them to the capital.

Naruto would have to swallow his pride and his values, to gather allies in the dark and amongst the lords.

Sasuke would have to give up on whatever agenda he had and had to walk back to those he betrayed many years ago.

Sakura, on her side, would have to sacrifice everything else.

None of them said a word, as silence sealed their fates.

I am back, or, as my good friend Luke Skywalker would say "No one is ever really gone." Did you miss me? I sure missed you lots.

I have a job now, which explains that my life and will to leave are slowly being sucked into an endless void.

More seriously, I'll always keep on writing - it will just take a little bit longer.

Did you like this chapter? Let me know in the comments! They always mean the world to me.

Find me on tumblr - my name is lovelyuglypotato there (I lost all access to my former tumblr because I'm a very silly person). Anyways, right now it's mostly Star Wars stuff (did you read my "So Long, Princess" piece? I couldn't get it out of my head) but I'll always keep on announcing updates for all my works, and will gladly answer your questions.

Until then, I'm still around, still kickin'.

Love,

uglypotato.