Chapter 5: Taming Lions

"Let's blame it on September
'Cause it hurts to remember
We can fight to hold on
But August is gone. . ."

-"Blame it on September" by Allstar Weekend

Madara

Mornings were dew covered as usual. The rain of the last night laid thickly over the village form the eastern winds that blew it towards us. The sun still wasn't strong enough to burn away the vapor. Sakura stood at the window of her tower bedroom, the glass was thickly frosted from the cold air. She drew a picture –a Leaf symbol merged with the four vertical slashes– but quickly swiped it away with the oversized gray sleeve of her sweater. Her face was pale and perfect.

Not much had changed about her, but it never hurt to check in on her every now and again.

Especially when harboring fugitives in her house.

Soon my little kunoichi, soon. I silently promised. I will make a queen out of you.

Sakura

It'll be cold soon. I realized, staring out my frosted window. The repairs for the hospital would become slower. I'll have to remind the men that work is inside. Though everyone in the Rain village seemed happy about finally having a job, there were still slackers who didn't like to work.

I sighed and leaned heavily against the window, drawing pictures of the village symbols against the window fog. A Leaf symbol merged with the Rain symbol, only spelled disaster –though I mildly enjoyed the symbolizom of the Rain trumping the Leaf.

Okay, maybe not as much, but . . . I miss everyone.

I miss Ino's flower shop. I miss the warm weather. I miss Nala's tempura. I miss my teachers. I miss shishou. I miss the grounds. I miss my little apartment. I miss everyone . . . including Naruto . . . and Itachi.

The familiar pain in my chest stabbed.

Itachi.

I felt like I was struggling to remember his face now. Then it came back to me in a rush of relief that brought air. Dark hair, dark eyes, calm smile, soft kisses.

Oh, Itachi, I missed him more than I could possibly say. I miss everything about him. And I . . . I hate that I can't feel him here. Not anywhere!

I fought back the tears that threatened to flow.

No . . .

I fought harder.

I'm done crying.

I felt no moisture.

I'm not spending the rest of this year crying!

I opened my eyes. Dizziness rushing around me aside, I felt . . . okay.

Liberated. A little.

I better get ready.

Turning away from the window, I stripped off my night clothes and then began to rummage for a somewhat new sweater in my dresser. One thing I miss about Konoha, the clothes. Fashion was so up to date back in the Leaf; here I was wearing thick woolen sweaters only the elderly from some clans would wear. They'd once lived in the mountain ranges too, but had left favoring warmer weather, but not to disown their heritage in Ame territories.

The sweater was stretched at the neck, but a maid had embroidered it with inlays of red silk, making it look like it was suppose to be that way, other than that it was black, knitted patterned and I paired it with thermal black tights, a white medic skirt and my trust open-toed boots.

Medic bag. Check.

Weapon pouches. Check.

Saigo scroll. Check.

Patient list. Check.

I am ready for the day.

Isamu stood in front of the courtyard waiting for me. Her hair was tied up and she wore a pair of thick winter pants and a sweater, he shoes were regular, open toe sandals. She nodded to me.

"Good morning, sensei."

"Sakura–sensei." I corrected lightly and motioned for her to come over. Konohamaru rested sleepily next to me, after a rude awakening of a chilly morning I didn't think he be ready to fall back asleep so quickly, and the rest of the medics and their pupils were already been given their jobs for the day. We, however, were going to the hospital to overlook the repairs and get in the basics on their training. A few days earlier, I'd given both Isamu and Konohamaru a dry scaled fish and asked them to revive it.

Both had succeed.

. . .After many arguments, shout matches and twenty disrupted patients later.

I talked Isamu through the usual protocol of training and what a few of my tutors did and my training days. She seemed genuinely interested for a while. Konohamaru stared at her skeptically. "Oh, and this," I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Is my otōto, Konohamaru."

That got him to laugh and I ruffled his hair roughly.

Isamu stared at us. "You're . . . brother . . .?"

"Eh, not by blood."

"We're close enough though." I smiled again and proceeded down the street, eyes darting every which way to witness the looks of utter shock on the faces of the civilians and stray ninja. My mind drifted back to my youth of luxury. The sleeping in, the new clothes, if I, or any other well-to-do in Amegakure we would have looked like swans among filthy little ducklings. Things had to get better . . .

"Where you raised here?" Isamu asked, not me, but Konohamaru.

"No, I was born in . . ." Maru caught my stare. "A ninja-less village and then I was raised here, secretly, I completed my ninja training in Konohagakure." Isamu looked confused and Konohamaru wasted no time explaining.

"It's the Village Hidden in the Leaves! It's in the largest of all the nations because it's in Fire Country–!" I slapped my hand over Konohamaru's mouth.

"And he likes geography a little too much."

We stepped into the hospital.

Let the training begin.

To begat further my shishou's odd teaching skills, I reincarnated them into basic exercises for my two disciples –Konohamaru and Isamu– and all other teachers in the medical field. Students of the hospital had to have at least five years of the academy under their belt and the ability to use ninjutsu. What an odd band they were, young adolescents rushing from the school to the courtyard makeshift-hospital for their basic training. Sure, I got complaints from teachers and parents, but Amegakure had been lax for too too long. I would not let our ninja grow fat from lack of missions ever again.

Being the Hokage's apprentice had helped some. I knew how to file paperwork, and now I could send someone else to do it, and I knew how to assign missions. Sadly, in my poor village, not many could afford to pay ninja –again the informal wealth of Konohagakure irked me–, so I did the unusual thing and sent the academy students to chase after cats and pull weeds from the fields. Most everyone who participated in rebuilding the village seemed to be glad to be working again, but there were always the straying teenager who couldn't just fall in line –"I hate my life! Oh, my life is terrible!" You live in a well-to-do family; no one likes you because you're a spoiled brat, GET OVER IT!

Normally, I'd try to sympathize with the born-to-be-rebel, wannabe-outlaws, but I was a leader now, I couldn't deal with their home life problems. Only they could make them better.

It built character to fix your own problems . . . kami, I was getting so old mentally.

"Sakura–sensei," Isamu rushed up to me and bowed. It was everyone did, she just followed in line. "Kiku and Tenchi caught the delinquencies that were tearing up the rice fields."

"Are they the rich kids, I suspected?" I cleaned my hands off with a rag.

"Hai."

I looked over to the far end of the courtyard where two nightwatchers, a bloodline limit family dating back from the construction of Amegakure, stood at the opening of the hospital camp, holding three young teenagers –fifteen, at least– by the arms. The glossy night vision eyes of the Yoru brother's was nothing short of creepy, but again rings for eyes had to be weirder.

"We caught them in the fields, Lady Reiame." Kiku, the eldest, said.

I looked down at them again. What could I do to punish them? They were just kids. Any physical labor, their parents could buy them out of it. A fine maybe? I could give it to the farmers who had their lands destroyed.

"You've destroyed the fields of many farmers, do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

One of the teens lurched forward; only to he hauled back into line. And he kept struggling. That when I noticed the long rings of piercings on his ears.

"You're the demigod who took over?" He huffed.

"I am." I crossed my arms in an imperious manner, but that only seemed to be my downfall.

"I could laugh." The girl chided.

"Pain was suppose to be powerful, isn't his bastard half-worth-nothing daughter suppose to be too?" He snickered grueling, showing two sets of yellowed teeth. I cringed just a little. "Pain was a kami. He was powerful. We can only emulate him. You–" He pointed a crude finger at me. "–are just a lousy worth nothing."

The truth struck me.

Yes, I was half of Pein.

But I was also half of Konan.

"Well, if I'm only 'half-worth-nothing' that makes you a full worth-nothing."

The teen's eyes widened and they tried to lung again.

"You little–!"

"Take them home. If they are 'high in society' tell their parents they have to pay a fine of ten thousand yen." I turned on my heel and the two brothers began pulling the teens away.

I really needed a break from all these 'demigod' declarations.

Sorry for the long wait!

I was working myself out of my rut, my parents took me to a Bulls Game against the Toronto Raptors -awesome- with BOX SEATS! And I got vodka~ and I got story ideas and then I did the Day of Silence with my friends and then I got a job (KMart) and then I won an award with my Literary Fest. entry today~ so I started writing due to modivation and this chapter sucks. I know. But notice how Sakura is acting at the beginning towards the memory of Itachi, how she just immediately *snap* drops the subject.

-Song- For Sakura and her beloved Itachi. It Hurts to remember him. *wink, wink, wink*

Review me, let me know your with me,

~QueenVamp