Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
A/N: Chapters will vary in length!
-O-
They returned to their modest village carrying the corpses of their fallen. They shall be burned and sent to sea, where the gods would then pass judgment on their souls. They passed by grieving wives and mothers, passed husbands who cradled the mangled bodies of their wives in agony. Sakura averted her eyes, she did not like to bear witness to such personal emotion, did not want to be reminded of her failures, and she would pay her respects at the funerals.
As she walked further away from the conglomerate of people, a small man approached her. She recognized him as the son of the village seamstress, and as her eyes ran over his person, they unknowingly lingered on his injured leg. He shifted uncomfortably and she averted her eyes guiltily; he had chosen to run and was felled by an arrow, and she should not look at his shame.
"The earl has requested to speak to you and your sister as soon as you have made yourself decent," he said and then hobbled away at their affirmative.
She had wanted to laugh in his face and question why she could not attend him as she was, bloody and bearing the wounds of warfare. But Aya had placed a hand on her arm and shaken her head. Sakura spat at the man's retreating back; how ironic that a village comprised of blood thirsty warriors was led by a man who would readily send his friends to die and yet has never stood on a battlefield.
Aya tugged on her arm and with one last contemptuous glance, they made their way home. Sakura pushed open the wooden door of a modest cottage to walk into the main room and was accosted by the warm smell of baking bread and the tinkling sound of laughing children. A grin came to her face unbidden as she felt Aya push passed her to scoop one of the younger children into her arms and nuzzle her face into his soft hair.
"You could have your own son."
Aya placed the child down, tenderly sweeping her hand through his inky tresses and sighing as she met the hopeful eyes of the woman who had spoken.
She chuckled, skipping by the older woman, stopping only to press a hasty kiss to a wrinkled cheek, and made her way towards the baths.
"Now, if I were to have children, Grandmother, how would I find the time to meet with the handsome boat builder?" She questioned cheekily as she began to undress, disappearing behind the curtain that led to the bath.
The older woman placed her hands on her hips, "You could marry the boat builder and then have sons!"
Aya gasped, affronted, and poked out her blonde head from behind the curtain, "A boat builder for a husband?! Do not insult me, Grandmother!"
And then she was gone to wash away the blood dyeing her blonde hair red, leaving both women in the main room shaking their head—one in exasperation and the other in amusement.
"And you? When shall you be getting married and bearing children?" She turned her sights on the other woman, who then smiled nervously and made her way towards the kitchen to pour herself a drink.
"Sakura!"
Sakura sighed, resigned to the conversation, and leveled her gaze on the woman before her. Grandmother Mei was a small woman, aged by a life of hardship and happiness, and though her stance was that of a warrior, her eyes held kindness and wisdom. Sakura felt a surge of affection for the woman before her, and offered her cup of water to the woman who had been toiling away in the household. She sat at the dining table as Mei drank, exhaling deeply as she unlaced her boots.
"I do not have time for children, Grandmother, there is much to do and I am not ready."
Mei clucked her tongue in displeasure and set the cup down on the wooden table, "I have raised you two since you were children, no smaller than the height of my knee, and many winters have passed since then."
She reached out for Sakura's hand, holding it in weathered fingers made soft by years of nurturing, "You will have 25 years this coming Spring, Sakura, and I fear that by the time you marry it shall be too late for you to carry on your name."
Sakura frowned as she followed the trace of Mei's finger along her palm, "It does not matter when I have children, for if I do, it is not my name they shall carry but that of my husband's."
She yelped when a swift hand cuffed her in the ear, her nose scrunching in petulance.
"That is not what I meant, girl, and you know it!"
Mei rose from her seat and Sakura followed with her eyes as she began to pick up after the many children than littered the modest home as she spoke.
"I remember the day they brought you to me," she paused and smiled gently at a red ribbon salvaged from beneath a cot, "you were so frightened, cowering behind the soldier's legs with such large eyes and my heart cried for you. I went to touch you, but then this little blonde child darted in front of you and slapped my hand away!"
Sakura giggled from behind her hand, Aya had always been so protective of her.
"It took me days to gain your trust, these poor war orphans who were found in the ruins of a village," Mei's face darkened in anger, "they say it was shinobi who had burned it to the ground, who slaughtered its inhabitants and left no one alive."
She spat the word shinobi as if it were the foulest word in known language, as if the gods were going to smite her for merely speaking it, and Sakura felt trepidation churn in her gut. Mei moved to stand behind her, undoing braids and combing fingers through silken hair.
"And yet, against all the odds, these two children survived—and survive they did. You grew to be such strong women, such beautiful women, and have filled my heart with such joy."
Sakura placed her hand on top of Mei's own on her shoulder, smiling lovingly as she was surrounded by the comforting scent of her childhood.
"You are a fierce warrior, Sakura, but I fear you have forgotten how to simply be a woman."
Sakura sighed and moved away from Mei's hands and words. Aya had been in the baths long enough, and if she was still partaking in them then she had better make room. She turned to regard her care taker—her mother sans blood—and sent her a sad smile.
"Someday I will love again, Grandmother. But for now, I must be strong to survive."