A Stitch in Time

by anoceaninthesun

Kaguya was the greatest threat the world had ever known. Triumphing over her should have ushered in a new era for shinobi. And it did. Specifically for one Haruno Sakura. Time-travel and eventual polyamory romance. SakuraxKonoha Founders

67. Mores

It was a questionably large amount of meat. That was the first thought that ran through his head when Sakura informed him of all the cuts she wanted him to secure. Sai didn't bother voicing it though; they were all infringing on her home and her budget, so it only made sense. It was a lucky thing Konoha's currency hadn't really changed much over the decades. Though, perhaps he could pay her back, at least for the share of the food he was eating. That was the gracious thing to do, and people appreciated friends who showed gratitude.

Try as he might to shake it, Sai was at times still overtaken with a bothersome emotion, one that had him second guessing himself. Insecurity. That was the downside to being more in touch with feelings instead of suppressing them, he supposed. That meant the less pleasant ones would surface too.

The root of it was Sakura and Naruto had been perhaps the first friends he could ever recall having. In spite of himself, they liked him. He wanted them to continue to like him, but with his talent for saying the wrong thing, it was a wonder their bond had progressed so far.

Captain Yamato had advised him to just be himself, jagged edges and all, and with some patience, things would improve. He was inclined to believe the older man, seeing as how he came from a similar background but seemed to be well-adjusted for a shinobi of his caliber. And his book had said that sincerity was key to making almost any relationship work. But it didn't tell him how to combat the doubt he would sometimes face, telling him that his friends were vibrant personalities who could find far more interesting, less stunted individuals to be around than him.

'This probably isn't the most important thing to ponder right now.' Sai thought. He needed to finish the task Sakura gave him and reunite with the girls. Although…that was a big crowd, and the chances of him getting swept up in the surge was high. Instead, he'd take a safer route. A…detour of sorts. Granted he didn't know his way around, but he trusted in himself enough not to get lost.

Avoiding the chaos of that sudden swarm of people ended up putting him in a rather ironic place. Sai couldn't help himself; his feet slowed, and then eventually stopped before a modest stand. He eyed the wares heavily, fingers twitching as he fought to keep his hand at his side. The man in charge perked up as soon as he noticed he had a potential customer, eyes lit with eagerness. "You've got quite the discerning eye if you like that set."

"Anyone could recognize the beautiful quality of the craftsmanship." The shinobi replied absently, then inwardly cringed. Was that…too blunt? Too rude? Complimenting the customer to secure their patronage was a very old—and transparent—merchant tactic, yes. But there was a certain manner he was supposed to respond, regardless of whether or not he was buying anything.

"Hmm…" Arms crossed, the merchant canted his head, studying Sai as intently as he had been studying the brushes. "I think I know a skilled artist when I see one. Tell you what," he bent at the waist, disappearing from sight briefly, then reappearing red-faced from the downward rush of blood. In his scarred hands was a polished wood box, Sai watching him unlatch it. "Those are good brushes, but why don't you have a look at these?" Set into grooves within the velvet lining were four bamboo-handled paint brushes, different materials on the heads. Even without touching them, Sai could immediately see the excellent quality; they stood out especially in comparison to the brushes he currently used, which had become worn down as of late. The shopkeeper's face held immense pride, able to tell he had successfully impressed the ninja. "Beautiful, aren't they?" He held them up a little higher. "You won't find anything else like this set from any other sellers here. I can promise you that."

"How can you be sure?" Again, the question perhaps came out less polite than he wanted, but the older man didn't seem to take offense.

"Rare imported materials." He explained, pointing at one of the brushes. "This one here's bristles are made from ermine fur." The tip was snowy white, pure and unused, entrancing as he began to imagine holding the brush in his fingers and dipping it in ink.

Sai had heard of the ermine, distant cousin to the less rare weasel. But they weren't animals whose fur was used in the time period he was familiar with. In fact, they were hardly seen in the elemental nations anymore. "This one is from a species of monkey that only lives up in the mountains of the Lightning Country." The shopkeeper pointed at another brush, its bristles a summery brown. "This one has horse hair. Prized horses though," he tacked on quickly, as if afraid Sai would lose interest at the admission the hair had been procured from a common animal. "And last…the most impressive one of all. Can you guess what animal this brush's head is made from?"

The dark-haired shinobi studied the tip carefully, noting the thickness and the way the color started brown and tapered into black. "Not really," he admitted.

Staring from side to side conspiratorially, the art supply seller leaned in and lowered his voice. "A lion," he said.

Sai stared, unsure how to process that information. That was indeed the rarest brush hair he had ever heard of.

"Lion fur?" he repeated.

"I swear it on my honor as a merchant." The man vowed solemnly. "Fella I bought the material from was an adventurer of sorts. He's traveled the world. I wouldn't have believed it myself if he didn't show me proof. Anyway, I can tell you're an artist that would appreciate being in possession of these brushes. I don't pull them out for just anybody. But you, I like you."

"You don't even know me." Sai pointed out. Though it was nice to be liked right away.

The shopkeeper laughed, "Straightforward lad! Now I like you more." Closing the box of brushes, he set it to the side, then turned to examine one of the racks on his side of the stall. "Which is why…I'd like to throw in something special…" Sai couldn't understand why he was laying it on so thick. Surely a sale was just a sale. Unless he needed to rid himself of inventory in a hurry. Or he really did just like him that much. Either way, the man's thick, short fingers plucked up a few vials made from semi opaque glass. The liquid inside made a tinkling noise as he swished them around. "If you buy the brushes, I'll throw in some special paints for half the price."

Having sweetened the pot, the shinobi could admit that the temptation was growing. After all, Sai had always stuck to what he could justify as practical. Danzo allowed him paints, but wouldn't have stood for him requesting some of the more luxurious colors that existed.

Practicing with paints made him more efficient at utilizing his super beast scroll techniques. It was only after being fully ingratiated to Team Seven that they got together and gifted him with new paints they had picked out for him. To say he was touched was an understatement.

His teammates had been a little alarmed upon seeing the glassy-eyed stare he gave their gift, until he clumsily managed to explain what he was feeling. His art, though mostly honed for battle purposes, was one of the few things that felt connected to who he use to be. All the emotions he had been made to suppress expressed themselves in the images he drew.

The world was no longer black and white, like the orders he had followed for so long. His teammates, his friends, had brought color back to his life. Something he liked expressing in the quickly filling sketchbook full of new drawings.

This merchant seemed to pride himself in high quality materials that were hard to come by, so Sai wouldn't have been surprised to learn the paint in the vials was no exception. Many paint sellers specialized in mixing powders, their own secret formulas, highly guarded trade secrets to create the most vivid paints. There was the more ordinary fare that they sold, and then the specialty selection, normally reserved for high profile customers. That this man wanted to extend that to him was a surprising honor.

'The others have said it's best to try not to bring anything from the past into the future if we can avoid it…but…' Sai silently mulled it over with serious thought. How much more expressive and engaging would his art become with the high grade paint? Would it finally be colorful and nuanced enough to show Team Seven how brightly he could now see the world? It was threadbare justification, but maybe if he used up the paints he bought before returning to their original time…

His internal deliberation was interrupted by a great source of commotion, emphasized by a woman's shriek. The merchant suddenly lowered the supplies, holding them close protectively, and Sai wondered what he had done to garner that reaction, until he turned around. A small, quick figure darted by toting something, people gasping as they were almost knocked down.

"Stop!" An angry man bellowed. "Somebody stop him! He's a thief—" His declaration seemed to have the opposite effect, wide-eyed spectators scrambling away, allowing the fleeing child—Sai could now tell that much—to get away unopposed.

Considering the situation only took a minute. Sai whipped out the scroll tied to his waist with practiced speed, inking out the perfect drawing for the situation even faster. The minute his brush left the parchment, an owl flew into the air, deadset on its target. Everyone looked on as the ink creation took aim at the boy trying to leave the market but impeded by the amount of people in the streets.

Issuing a cry reminiscent of its real counterpart, the owl swooped low over the boy's head, startling him. "Ah!" He whirled around, unprepared when Sai's beast began to pull the bundle from his arms. "No, knock it off!" Though he struggled to maintain his hold on it, his efforts were ultimately fruitless. Ripping the package away, the owl soared back to the waiting shop keeper while Sai prepared to confront the now skittish child, who was obviously ready to run.

As he searched for an exit, Sai snuck up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You can't object to something that doesn't belong to you in the first place being reclaimed."

Squeaking, he smacked the offending hand away, glaring warily into his face. Though Sai had always been better at reading emotions than expressing them, and his nervousness telegraphed clearly. "W-Who're you?" he stammered.

"Someone that recognizes a damn little thief when he spots one!" A red-faced man, presumably the shopkeeper the item had belonged to, marched over. "Good work, my boy." He nodded appreciatively at Sai. "I'll take it from here. Still not done with this grubby-handed little brat."

Sai could see the kid trembling from his peripheral. "What are you going to do to him?"

"What thieves deserve to have done to 'em." He stated matter-of-factly, his face no less severe than it had been before, though the redness was fading. "Lashes. Ten of 'em for each ryu the vase was worth. And you'd better prepare yourself, because this was mighty expensive."

There was a strangled yelp, and then the force of someone stomping hard on his toes. "No!" cried the would-be thief, flailing around and bolting off again. This time, Sai watched him go, then turned his attention to his reddened toes. It didn't hurt. Very few things did when one had built a pain threshold high enough to withstand torture. Even for a shinobi, he could take a lot.

"Hey, aren't you going after him?!" The angry man spat. Sai considered telling him there was no need. The ink owl that had never been dispelled would do that for him.

Instead, he straightened his back and looked directly into the beady black eyes, made darker by rage. At the total impassiveness the ninja radiated, the merchant's lip twitched and his gaze wavered unsurely. Not much of a sign, but enough for Sai to know he was intimidated. Before, the seller had automatically counted him as an ally since he had been willing to apprehend the child and get back his stolen vase (as he now knew it to be). But that was as far as Sai's cooperation would go if he planned to put hands on the boy.

"He's fled the market by now. I'll make sure he doesn't stir up trouble for you again, but beating him is unnecessary. Your vase was recovered and he won't be back."

Indignation surfaced instantly, his thick eyebrows drawing down crossly. "But—"

Recalling the mask he had worn for years, Sai let go of the person he had become, of who he was still striving to be. Here, in front of this unaware merchant, he was once again a ROOT operative— at least on the surface in the ways he needed to be. "It'll be handled. I'm afraid if you insist on seeking justice I'll have no choice but to involve the Hokage."

Being loyal to the Hokage and not to Danzo had been a strange adjustment. Everyone within ROOT's ranks knew who all operatives really obeyed. But with time, and especially after his former master's demise, Sai had come to understand what it really meant to be loyal to the village and not to the organization dwelling in its underbelly.

He trusted Lady Hokage as a fair and firm leader, and as someone who had guided Sakura, who he also trusted. For that same reason, he felt confident using the current Hokage as a threat to quell the merchant's rage. He had no reason to believe the Shodai would do anything about a child being excessively punished when he had in fact stolen.

However, Sakura trusted him, it seemed. And his teammate would never put her faith in someone willing to turn a blind eye to the lashing of a child. It was funny how the belief he had learned to have in others all circled back around to the faith he had learned to have in his team…his friends.

The merchant was especially tight-lipped, silently deciding if he wanted to push the issue. Finally, he scoffed, some of the tension evaporating. "Bah, I don't need more problems when I'm just trying to do business. But you'd better hope I don't see that kid's face around here again, or I'll file a complaint with the Hokage myself. I didn't move to this village to make a living just to get done over by some rotten kid."

He stormed off, and everyone who had been watching the exchange finally shuffled away too, back to their business. Standing in the middle of the district awkwardly, the dark-haired ninja sighed. He really needed to go buy that meat. Sakura wasn't going to be pleased no matter what at this point, but completing the task she'd asked of him might help smooth it over. Though, it was likely more prudent to check on where the boy had gone first. His owl was circling overhead, ready to show him the way.

ASiT

'He's fast on his feet.' Sai had to say, he was impressed. In a relatively short time, the runaway child from the market had made it pretty far into the forest surrounding the village. Though considering the threat of corporeal punishment the merchant had made, he probably thought it would be better to put as much distance between himself and the angry man as possible. Fairly easy to understand self-preservation rationality.

One thing he likely hadn't counted on was that Sai had a technique that a merchant wouldn't, and it was currently leading him right to the correct location. The shinobi glanced up, the ink owl circling the sky at a point not far ahead. He was closing in. Dispelling his creation, Sai crept forward with all the stealth his profession afforded him, peering through the trees and finding a peculiar little structure. Two large moss-covered rocks, one on each side, stood sentry near the entrance to a crude wooden fort. Thick, sturdy branches and large sticks made up its front wall, the vertical roof thatched neatly with moss-infested old wood. It looked both quaint and lonely, especially with only one person hunkered down inside. He sat with his back facing the entrance, completely unaware of Sai moving in. Mumbled words made the ninja prick his ears to listen. "…really scary…almost didn't get away…" he was whispering, seemingly to himself. Then, he turned his body slightly, and Sai could see he actually was holding something small and furry… "…at least I have you…"

Not sure how to announce himself, Sai poked his head and shoulders through the fort's entrance. "Did you build this yourself? It was smart to lean the front of the fort against those rocks. It helps offset any shoddy work."

Startled, the boy whipped his head around, eyes going round and filling with fear as soon as he laid eyes on the young man. A strange, strangled bleat of surprise left his lips, quick speech following. "Y-Y-You're that guy! From the market!" His brown head turned from left to right, frantically searching for a way out. But seeing that he was trapped, he settled for scooting into the farthest corner of the fort, away from the opening. "What are you doing here? How'd you find me?"

"My ink creation was able to track you easily." Sai explained, eyeing the tight hold he had on the little animal in his arms. Two long little ears stood at attention, and it began to squirm. "Although you made it farther than I would have thought."

"Y-Yeah well," he gulped, "I-I'm sorry, okay? Really sorry. I never should have stolen from that man. I know it was wrong. B-But I'm not going back for him to beat me up. Please, please don't make me go back." The plea was accompanied with a panicked hiccup, eyes heavy with building tears as he folded further into himself, around the rabbit kit he had in his arms.

Sai wasn't the best when it came to situations like this. He had never had to comfort a distraught child.

When he was a child, daring to cry in front of Danzo or the older ROOT operatives that sometimes trained the younger ones came with a steep price. And so for years, it was yet another expression of emotion that had been stripped from him. While he still wasn't overly prone to crying, he knew that it was something natural. Especially in children. It warranted…reassurance, right? But, how best to give that?

Sai crouched, still mostly blocking the entrance of the fort, but relaxing his body language so it at least appeared less threatening. "What's your name?"

The boy sniffled, his mouth pulling into a bemused frown as he contemplated what he had been asked. "M-My name?" Sai waited patiently as he gathered his courage. "…It's…Sumiya."

"I'm Sai," he introduced himself. "And for the record, I didn't find you so you could be punished." The look of simultaneous relief and disbelief on the boy's face was fascinating, furthering his desire to learn more. "But I have to ask what was going through your head. You said you knew what you did was wrong, so why do it in the first place?"

Sumiya lowered his dark head to stare at the little gray rabbit in his lap, and the artist noticed there was a bright tuft of blond hair at the top of his crown, an unusual sight among the brown strands. "It's…well um…it's cause…" He stopped, petting the small rabbit and going silent.

"I'm…very skilled at keeping secrets." Sai tried awkwardly. He had kept all of Danzo's for years without issue—not that he had a choice under the threat of torture, but this nervous child didn't need to know that.

Sumiya lifted his head and blinked unsurely, finally releasing a tired sigh. "I have some…friends. At least I think they're friends," he started. "T-They said if I brought them something from the market, something pretty, I could keep hanging out with them. They picked out who to steal from. Said they'd make a distraction and then I just had to take something."

"I see," Sai stroked his chin. "And when you got caught, where were they?"

Sumiya cringed, his voice timid. "I guess we got separated…"

"Or they left you behind to take the full brunt of the blame."

His face fell, gray eyes narrowing, "No, they wouldn't do that!" he protested, "T-They…Oizumi-kun and the others, they wouldn't—"

"Friends who lead you to do something that makes you uncomfortable don't seem to value your feelings Sumiya-kun. They also don't seem reliable, judging by the fact that they abandoned you today. At some point, it may be worth it to ask yourself what's worth putting up with in order to maintain the friendship."

Even as he spoke it, he had very little insight into where it was all coming from. Sai would be the first to acknowledge he was no expert on the matter of bonds. Pouring over books, trying hard to fit in, for a while it felt fruitless. Only when he started to let go and be himself did it seem like he got anywhere.

"Stop it!" The boy yelled, voice cracking. It wasn't particularly loud or intimidating, but still, it held so much emotion that Sai reared back. "Don't talk about them like that. You…you don't know them. And you don't know me!" He swiped his bare arm across his eyes, trying in vain to stop crying. "You're a ninja, right? That thing you did in the market was a ninja technique? …I bet it's totally different in your world."

"What would make you assume that?" Sai wondered. "Ninja do bond under certain…conditions peculiar to civilians, but I'm not following."

Sumiya peered at him from just over the top of the arm once again wrapped around his knees. The small rabbit wasn't visible once he drew his legs up. "I'm just…just a civilian. I go to the academy for kids like me, who'll never be ninja. My parents and my older sister and me…we're pretty ordinary. I know all about being shinobi, going on adventures together and building friendships!"

"That's a gross oversimplification of an extremely hazardous lifestyle." Sai said, smiling in what he hoped was reassurance. Judging by the way Sumiya faltered, he hadn't managed to convey his feelings properly. Again.

"O-oh," Sumiya swallowed. "Well it doesn't matter anyway. My parents wouldn't even let me try. I go to the other academy. I um, I don't have a lot of friends there. I was sick for a long time growing up, so I had to stay home a lot. It put a lot of burden on my family to afford the medicines for me…" His face shifted somberly into open guilt. He lifted up the tiny rabbit and stroked it between the ears. "Then we moved to the village, and I enrolled at the academy, but no one seemed very interested in being friends. All I had was art."

"You're an artist?"

Sumiya perked up slightly, nodding with a shy smile. "Yep, just like my ma." Reaching around behind him, he dragged a satchel toward his feet and rummaged around until he pulled out a worn moleskin book. Sai was suddenly looking at a very detailed illustration of the surrounding woods, right down to the little fort they were currently in. The next page contained a shaded drawing of the small rabbit Sumiya was so fond of. Both showed exceptional talent and technique.

"You've got impressive skill."

Sumiya's smile grew a little larger, his cheeks darkening with pink. "T-Thanks. I like what you can do too. Um, with that ink creature? That's so cool." Clearing his throat, the boy went on, "But uh…art's not that special a talent." He closed his sketchbook and set it down gently. "At least not at my academy. And since I spent so much time sick in bed before I joined, I don't really know how to make friends." he shrugged, "I'm so awkward and they just make fun of me." Sai felt a new sense of…something growing. Was it kinship? Sumiya groaned into his hands. "Oizumi-kun is the first person to be really nice to me. Then he introduced me to his friends and…and it was great. Except lately, they do stuff I know is wrong…"

"And now you're not sure you can speak up about it without risking the friendship?" Sai was beginning to understand Sumiya's situation a bit more, little by little. Affirming his question, the child nodded. "May I join you, Sumiya-kun?" He motioned to the inside of the fort. "I think we've established enough baseline trust by now for you to know I won't turn you in."

"S-Sure," He replied after a beat. "Um, just come in slowly. You're bigger than me, and it took forever to get the roof to stay."

Sai carefully crawled through the fort, finding a spot in the back, a respectable distance from Sumiya in case he felt cornered. Though the exit was now unguarded, the boy stayed put. He glanced in the kid's direction to find him glancing back. "I also struggle with understanding the correct way to connect to others." Sai admitted. "Due to my upbringing, I wasn't particularly skilled at social interactions for many years. It wasn't necessary to be in my line of work." The older artist leaned his head back again the wood of the fort wall behind him, beginning to reminisce. He could still recall what it was like upon joining Team Seven, how often he was at odds with Naruto and Sakura, frequently offending them.

"Then…what happened?" Sumiya whispered, his red-rimmed eyes large with curiosity.

"I met people willing to be patient with me, and they became my closest friends." Sai couldn't help but give a contented sigh, a small, natural smile overtaking his face. "You will too."

Sumiya gasped, scooting a bit closer. "You really…you think so?"

The roadblock to Sai finding true friends was far more difficult to get past than a lonely civilian boy's, and he had still managed. If he wasn't hopeless then no one was. He nodded. "I should go. One of those closest friends I told you about is going to wring my neck with her bare hands if I don't make a reappearance soon."

The artist got up, brushing off his pants and giving Sumiya a parting wave. "Oh, but stay away from the market for a while, Sumiya-kun. I can't be held responsible if that merchant catches you again."

Filled with a sense of accomplishment he had never felt before, Sai was off before the kid could even register that he was leaving, or give an awkward wave back. So, this was what it felt like to relate to others who were socially inept like him. Not bad, he decided. Not bad.

---

He had been standing by, willing to greet the procession with a warm welcome and the diplomacy the situation called for. But nervousness still crept in as he bowed to Ashina Uzumaki, who bowed in return. "Ashina-sama, I'd like to welcome you and your family to Konoha."

"It's been quite some time, hasn't it?" The older man squinted, looking around the receiving room as everyone sat down and got comfortable. Not including him, there were six other people in attendance, most of them bearing the trademark Uzumaki red hair. "I haven't found time to visit the mainland sooner, but I see the village seems to be developing nicely." Hashirama watched Ashina take a measured sip of the green tea he had served his guests.

"Oh yes," he exclaimed, beaming, "Even now, we've seen quite a bit more growth than we anticipated in the first year. The merchant district is—"

A loud sigh cut him off, and he turned his eyes toward a young redheaded male who was nibbling the end of a senbei cracker. Ashina cut him a sharp look. "Excuse my grandson. He's the restless sort."

"Dull pleasantries always make me bored." Ashina's grandson scoffed.

"Ayumu," snapped the woman he knew to be Ashina's daughter-in-law. She leaned over and clamped onto her son's arm. "I will not have you disrespect your grandfather or Lord Hokage by behaving childishly."

"Ow, Kaasan," he flinched, "That grip could take my arm off."

Attempting to diffuse the situation, Hashirama waved it off. "It's alright. I…sympathize. At times being in my office so often makes me restless too. Ayumu, was it? How'd you like to see the village properly? After you all rest of course."

"A fine idea." Ashina agreed, speaking as the patriarch. "I did come here to take measure of things, and that's assuredly the quickest way." Placing his cup down, he sat both hands on his knees and closed his eyes. "Now. A slightly more pressing matter. This young man…" He gestured to the blonde young man who had been silently making faces at Ayumu. There was something oddly familiar about him, considering Hashirama didn't think they had ever met. Maybe it was just those features, or the vibrancy that radiated off him. "…comes to us from a more distant land than Uzushio."

At having been given the floor, the blonde turned to Hashirama and smiled. "You look the same as ever, Old Man First."

Bewildered, Hashirama fought to keep his pout under control. Had they met before? More importantly, "O-old man? I'm sorry, but do you maybe have me mistaken for someone else?" Age was funny for shinobi, given that so many milestones were sped up to account for the shorter life expectancy compared to civilians. Still, was twenty-three really so ancient?

"Nope," the blonde replied, his grin decidedly fox-like.

"As Ojiīsama was saying, Naruto-kun comes to us from unusual circumstances." The young woman who had been snacking carefully let her amethyst eyes flick between him and 'Naruto-kun'. Her red hair was up in two neat buns, fuinjutsu tags hanging decoratively from both. There was a seal he was very familiar with in the center of her forehead, though red in color, not purple.

Her pale skin was glowing and unblemished, and she spoke softly and carefully, the faint wisp of a dialect native to Uzushio coating her words. He remembered briefly seeing her during the trip to broker a treaty with the Uchiha in Uzushio. Lady Mito. She had smiled politely as she walked by when Ashina hosted them in his home, her attendant close at her side. The same blonde woman who was sitting beside her now.

"I see," Hashirama glanced over Naruto again, a clearer picture forming. "And by unusual circumstances, I presume you're the friend of Sakura's my brother told me would be arriving soon."

"That's me!" Naruto nodded emphatically. "Actually, if we're done here, I'd like to go and see her. It's been a long time."

"I…don't have any objections," The Hokage mumbled. He knew first hand that Sakura made excellent company, and this was no doubt someone she would probably be equally delighted to see. If there was one thing that was evident, it was that her friends had come to find her because they cared for her very much.

"Neither do I." Ashina huffed. "I suppose this is where our paths part ways."

"Ah, don't sound so somber." Naruto grabbed a handful of crackers as he got up, cramming one into his mouth. "S'not like I won't see ya around while you're here. You're staying in the village a while, right?"

"That was our intention, so long as the Hokage is willing to graciously host us." Orino Uzumaki said.

Hashirama dipped his head in a humble nod. Something about the woman reminded him vaguely of Mei-san, and that invoked a feeling of deference he couldn't really push down. "I would be honored."

"Great!" Naruto didn't waste any time making for the receiving room's window, and Hashirama had a pretty good idea of what was coming next. "That means I'll definitely see more of you later."

"Are we supposed to see that as a good thing?" Ayumu grumbled, Naruto sticking out his tongue in response. The exuberant boy unceremoniously wrenched open the window, jumping out with a wave at the rest of the room.

Hashirama sighed inaudibly. He seemed so carefree in a way that was hard not to envy.

"Free-spirited, that one." Ashina commented, evidently thinking along the same lines.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted upon Naruto's exit, prompting the Senju to sit straighter in anticipation for what the Uzumaki leader would utter next. He suspected everyone knew the afternoon tea was just a ruse to why they were really gathered; the looming question about his request all that time ago.

"Now, should we get down to more pressing matters?" The older man asked rhetorically. "Like the one at hand."

"Thank you once again for arranging to come here in person." Hashirama began, "You've picked one of the best times of the year to visit the mainland, what with the cherry blossoms in bloom."

"They're certainly a sight to behold." Ashina agreed, reaching for his nearly empty cup of tea. Before Hashirama could offer to refill it, Lady Mito's attendant rushed to secure and pour for him. Ashina hardly spared her a glance, acting as if the cup had magically refilled on its own as he took a dignified swallow.

"I have to say though, I prefer the plum blossoms on Uzushio," Orino Uzumaki put in.

Ashina chuffed, the closest Hashirama had heard to a laugh from the man. "To be expected. It's our nation's most treasured flower. Hardy, like the Uzumaki."

Hashirama's lips moved before he settled on a slightly unsure smile. "I'm sure they're stunning against the backdrop of the island."

"Oh yes," Lady Mito chirped, "My favorite is to stroll by them on a fair spring day and…"

"We're lapsing right back into this pointless small talk." Ayumu pointed out, elbow propped on the table as he looked them all over in boredom.

"Tsk," Ashina cut him a look, but didn't scold him. "Despite his usual impudence, my grandson is correct. So," He steepled his fingers, still strong and straight despite his advanced age. "Tell me Lord Hokage, how much of a problem do you foresee the inevitable severance from your primary benefactor posing?"

Hashirama pressed his lips together and took a moment to think. Discussing an agreement with a man like Ashina might as well have been a game of Shogi, and they had started to play the minute they sat down. Every word had to be calculated decisively.

"The goal was always to achieve independence at some point," Hashirama began, "It would have been…preferable for it not to happen like it did, but given the daimyo's stance on shinobi going as far back as several generations, that was also an inevitability we've prepared for. Currently we're negotiating with the regent."

Lady Orino squinted, "Negotiating to what end? If you've decided to break ties from the daimyo's regime and expect to no longer have his support, is that not just a waste of time?"

Hashirama could see why she would think so, as much as he could see why the Uzumaki would be leery in the first place. They were and had always been a sovereign nation. They needed no one's blessings to trade with the mainland or structure their village as they saw fit.

Whereas in the Fire Country and many lands beyond, the shinobi might have provided the bulk of the might (with samurai a close second), but it was the daimyo who held all the political power in the region. Ninja had their own culture and politics, worked through their own agreements, but that was when the clans roamed without anchorage, mostly nomadic save for big settlements in defined territories. Since constructing a large village, it only felt right and necessary to involve the daimyo at first.

Madara had been against it, in spite of seeing the need. His friend had pointed out that it put them in a vulnerable position; what would they have done had the daimyo objected to the Leaf Village being created? Tobirama had worked tirelessly to make sure those negotiations had gone smoothly, especially at points when it felt as though Azusa wanted to stop cooperating.

Though it was to be expected; they were radically restructuring the way ninjas consolidated power, and it could be viewed as a threat to the existing system that had been in place for decades. Now that it seemed that carefully balanced relationship was coming to an end, they faced new uncertainties.

A shinobi village of Konoha's size and strength existing as a free-floating entity that answered to no one when the daimyo still effectively controlled Fire Country was a difficult spot to be in, to say the least. Ashina knew that as well as he did, and Hashirama could admit that from the older man's standpoint he likely was being presented the short end of the deal.

The Uzumaki already have all the control they could want on their own lands. A literal island no one had really dared try to encroach on or invade in almost seventy years. Though the Senju and Uzumaki did have strong allyship going back generations, to ask for their aid—and for them to potentially involve themselves in problems existing on the mainland—in the manner he had within his letter, was admittedly a large heft for them.

But Hashirama was optimistic both parties could stand to gain quite a bit if an agreement could be reached, and knowing that even in his advanced age, Ashina was every bit the ambitious opportunist, the Hokage was hoping he could leverage that.

"I understand why it might seem that way," he nodded slowly, "I've discussed it with Tobirama and we've both agreed that this formality is in our best interest." Both Lady Orino, her daughter, and Ashina looked interested, so he proceeded to explain, "Part of why the daimyo has had the upper hand over countless shinobi and samurai, despite outnumbering him, is the power of public opinion. He manufactured a threat in the shinobi clans many civilians already feared or were at least cautious of. I'm sure it was simple. Civilians have a long history of being killed or chased from their homes when they're caught in our battles."

Hashirama bowed his head in regret, hands clenched atop his lap. His father had always been so blase, claiming civilians knew the risk of living near shinobi lands. As if they didn't have just as much right to want their families and homes safe and protected. As if their children also didn't die young just from being in proximity to warring clans.

He had once gone on a raid with other Senju that took them through the wreckage of an all but destroyed civilian village. The people who had lost their lives before they even arrived had never stood a chance. Shinobi thought nothing of going into non-ninja villages to buy supplies, eat at their restaurants or perhaps even find a brothel. But that meant they often ran into enemies who had the same idea.

It wasn't uncommon for hot-blooded adults to be reckless, too caught up in hatred to take stock of their surroundings, fighting wherever they happened to be. Hashirama remembered the bloated bodies laid out in the streets and left for the crows, and the putrid smell that rose high in the air under the blazing summer sun. One of the men on the raid had casually suggested pillaging, but Tatsugi had led the unit, and staunchly forbade it.

Still, the smallest body he had laid eyes on belonged to a tiny girl who barely looked old enough to be out of her crib. He'd gone behind a building and dry heaved until he eventually puked, ignoring the whispers of some of his more callous clansmen, older shinobi who were desensitized to the point of cruelty.

"That's…the fault of my predecessors for creating such a situation. It made it easy for the daimyo to turn us into the enemy of the people… Fear naturally developed into bitterness." It was really no less than the past generations deserved.

Hashirama had spent a great deal of his youth resenting them too. Now, he felt true pity for them. They couldn't look beyond their conditioning and see a better way. They were too broken down to cobble the ashes into hope for a brighter future. "He then established himself as someone that could tame the beasts that lurked in the woods, so to speak. The only one. Because shinobi weren't allowed in Otsū-shi and were heavily punished for breaking that rule in a way smaller clans couldn't afford, it seemed like his promises to keep everyone in the capital safe from the dangers of ninja were founded. Really, the Uchiha, Senju and the region's other big clans had put so much of their effort into battling each other, they didn't bother too much with trying to oppose that decision. It all worked out."

"Until you tipped the balance by proposing the creation of this village," Lady Mito whispered in understanding.

Hashirama shrugged feebly. Yes, in a way, that had been the beginning. Yet he could hardly apologize for something he felt was wholeheartedly right. "I suppose…that's one way to look at it." He cleared his throat, surging on, "Anyway, one of our shinobi presented damning evidence of the daimyo's dealings in damaging not just the ability to do business for merchants who threatened his monopoly, but the fact that he unfairly overtaxed his people on the whole. Exposing that is what caused the last daimyo, Lord Azusa, to be deposed. We're wrestling with the current regent now."

"You're saying there's substantial unrest and they have just as much, if not more, to lose." Ashina stroked his beard. The whiteness of his hair and the lines beginning to carve themselves into his dour face were among the only signs to suggest he was older than the middle-aged man he could have otherwise passed for. Uzumaki longevity really was remarkable. "Interesting. I suspect the regent is blustering and buying time then. In times of great upset, the people look to their leaders for stability. Prioritizing pettiness when the people want to be reassured wouldn't be a good look."

That's what Tobirama was counting on. He thought that keeping a correspondence going for as long as possible where it looked like Konoha was trying to be the reasonable party while the regent dragged things out and became more obstructive was the way to subtly lure him into a trap.

Madara had praised the underhandedness of the idea, gleefully approving. He hadn't bothered to point out he was agreeing to a scheme Tobirama concocted, though it would have been funny to see the way his hair fluffed up when he grew agitated.

"It's all a gamble, I admit." Hashirama concluded, "But I tend to do very well when I make a wager."

"Very well," Ashina offered his hand. While Hashirama did his level best to keep a calm countenance, the relief pouring off him no doubt gave him away. He accepted the man's hand in a firm shake. "I'm intrigued at the least, but not fully committed. You have until the end of our visit to convince me…I want to see why I should all but give you access to fuinjutsu that's been closely guarded in our clan for over a hundred years."

"Among other things," Lady Orino sniffed, looking down her nose at him despite their height difference. "The partnership you're seeking is an extensive one. It would require a deeper union of our clans. Something more solid than a written vow to aid each other in times of crisis."

The three young Uzumaki looked between themselves speculatively, and Hashirama swallowed quietly. "I understand. During your stay I'll show you what the Senju, but more importantly Konoha, have that would make your cooperation worthwhile."

"I certainly hope so. It would be a long way to have come for a simple chat. The mainland air already doesn't agree with me." Ashina replied, "It's nowhere near the quality of what we have in Uzushio."

"I think the air here is still very sweet." Lady Mito put in quietly. "The cherry blossoms are so fragrant I feel like I can smell them from here."

"We'll have to see them during our stay, cousin." The younger of the two redheaded women said.

"I'd be more than happy to show them to you whenever you'd like," Hashirama hoped being a gracious host helped Ashina's decision, though he knew the old man was looking for something more. A sign that would indicate to him he could deepen the partnership with not only the Senju, but Konoha, an amalgamation of cultures and clans that didn't necessarily appeal to the almost isolationist views of Uzushio culture. But Hashirama had already come this far. He was willing to make the necessary concessions it took to make them commit.

'A deeper union…' His heart panged, his mother's lonely eyes coming to mind. Tobirama wanted him to trust in his heart, his people, and in Sakura's dedication to helping them. But, none of that was the issue. She might choose to stay a while longer, long enough to see them through the danger looming on the horizon, but then what? He would still have to tell her goodbye and adjust to a life in which he still had a duty to the village. Never mind the pitiful thumps of his lonely heart. Asking Sakura to consider anything resembling what he fleetingly thought of that night would be the epitome of selfishness. This was the best way.

…At least maybe one day he'd believe that.

"If that's everything pressing, I can show you the rooms I've prepared for you during your stay. They're right here in the Tower."

"Oh, such grand accommodations," Lady Orino said with a small hint of approval.

"You're noted guests." The Uzumaki stood as one graceful unit, even Lady Mito's attendant scrambled out in a blink. Hashirama unfolded his numb legs and got up too. "Plus, it's only me here, so a little more life in the living quarters would be a nice change of pace."

The Uzumaki all wore unreadable expressions again as they followed him out into the hall.

'Nice…' Hashirama thought, trying to manifest it.

…Well, it would be a change of pace either way, that was for sure.

---

Sakura eyed her friends suspiciously, receiving shining, innocent faces in return. She wanted to roll her eyes. It was a miracle she had managed to locate Ino, Usamaro and eventually Sai without much incident. Although she was flabbergasted when he explained what had kept him. Something about stopping a beating and helping a friendless child.

"Alright. Since we still don't have the meat…" Here Sai at least had the decency to look abashed, studying the ceiling with great interest. "I guess I'll go out and get it. And see if I can find Naruto too. He's probably wandering around looking for us anyway."

"Yeah, I'd say you won't have to worry about that," Karin muttered, continuing to play cards on the floor with Kakashi.

Sakura cast her a quizzical glance, but the redhead didn't seem inclined to elaborate. She shrugged, barely twisting the door handle before an eager face was popping into hers.

The kunoichi screamed, going for an uppercut on reflex. Naruto dodged just narrowly, dancing away with a whine. "Sakura-chan, what the hell kind of greeting is that?"

"The kind people get when they try to come in sneakily without even knocking first!" she huffed, face a little pink in embarrassment.

"I haven't seen you in so long, and the first time we run into each other you nearly take my head off!" Naruto's frown suddenly morphed into a wide grin. "I missed you!"

She'd be lying if she said her teammate's warm presence didn't instantly abate her ire. Sakura couldn't even protest when he pulled her into a tight hug, practically lifting her off her feet. "I missed you too, you jackass." The pinkette laughed, patting him between the shoulders as she dangled there.

"It took you long enough to find us." Karin remarked, followed by a noise of triumph when her hand won the round.

"Not everybody's a sensor like you," he grumbled, setting her down. "I asked practically half the village if anybody knew where a pink-haired woman lived. Considering you're still the only person around with that hair color, I figured it was a safe bet." He was clearly proud of his reasoning.

"You've got me there." Sakura admitted.

"See the rest of you are all cozy." He commented, walking into the house as Sakura finally shut the door. "Where's Sasuke?"

"Anybody's guess." Kakashi sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "He's been a bit restless." Sakura only hoped he wasn't knocking heads with anyone else. It was possible he was at the Uchiha compound but equally as unlikely. Odds were it still felt foreign to him, having so many Uchiha in the village again. One of them being Madara. Plus, there was that whole complicated mess with the elders believing Sasuke to be the child of a kidnapped woman who had disappeared nineteen years previously while pregnant.

Izuna had told her it wasn't uncommon in those days for people calling themselves bloodline hunters to take not only children from clans with kekkei genkai, but pregnant women too, if they could manage to subdue them. All clans had their contingencies if this were to happen, and according to Izuna it hadn't in a long time. But, well, it had in the past. And the cover story was now officially that Sasuke was the product of such a time, a lost Uchiha come home to them at last.

That, of course, hadn't assuaged the elders fully. Madara likely took too much personal delight in all the cross-examining and grilling Sasuke was subjected to. But he kept the composure befitting of a clan head, and Sasuke was a stone wall. Neither of them gave so much as a tell to dissect. So, tentatively Sasuke was welcomed back into the fold, though no doubt under careful scrutiny. She had no idea if he would be moving into the Uchiha residence for the time being or joining the others living out of her front room. If things weren't so…awkward with Hashirama she'd ask him if they could get proper lodging.

"Sasuke-kun's a lot easier to rile up than he looks, isn't he?" Sai tittered.

"Look who's talking," Sakura scoffed. "Now that we know you better, you're a pretty open book yourself." His pale complexion made it impossible not to notice the faint blush the observation evoked, and Sakura had to (silently) admit to herself not for the first time that Sai had a cute side.

"Shut you right up, huh." Ino observed. "Bashfulness looks good on you."

Sai made a small noise, futilely trying to hide in his own shirt collar, which wasn't nearly large enough to conceal him. "Um, a-am I really that open?"

"Yeah, sort of." Naruto tossed down the pack he'd been wearing and looked around her front room, Sakura trailing close behind in case he decided to touch something breakable. "But don't take it as a bad thing. You've come a long way." His azure gaze landed on Usamaro, who paused in his grooming to stare right back. "Aw Sakura-chan, you got a cat?" Folding his arms, he shook his head as if disappointed. "I thought if you ever got a pet it'd at least be a dog. Or maybe a turtle."

"What?" She didn't understand the correlation between her and those animals in Naruto's mind, but needless to say after all those years, there was still a lot she didn't get about how his mind worked. "You know, just tell me later." She found her shoes by the door, trying to shoo Naruto away so she had enough space to put them on. "I'm going to make a quick trip to the butcher's. Hopefully the crowd in the market's died down."

"Butcher?" Naruto stuck out his lip, "But I'm hungry now. They only fed me fruit for breakfast, and you know that's not enough for a growing shinobi…"

"Then I suggest you find yourself something else to eat." Sakura replied, not fazed by Naruto's whining. "Depending on the hassle to get there, I may not be in the mood to make anything when I get back. I think I've been a pretty gracious host so far." It was like unexpectedly finding out she had inherited a bed and breakfast, though to their credit they hadn't been nearly as much of a handful as they could have been. Not that she would stand for it from adults perfectly capable of meeting their own needs.

"That's my cue then," Kakashi rose, laying down his cards. "I was losing anyway."

"Boo," Karin tsked, "Accept your defeat with grace like a man. Don't hand me a win by forfeit."

"A rematch later, maybe," he hummed easily, "Maybe Sai would be willing to play against you in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I know the rules." The artist blinked.

"Fine, get over here and I'll teach ya," Karin agreed impatiently. "But I need something to do to pass the time. It's not like there's any real entertainment here."

"Says the girl that used to be a rogue nin," Ino countered, "What'd you do for fun when you were always on the move? Or did some of those moldy old bases you stay in have hidden spas?"

That prompted Karin to retort that she had traveled to plenty of hot springs, and once, even seen Sasuke's bare shoulder through a slat in the fencing. At least she thought it was Sasuke; the steam made it hard to tell.

Ino was less than impressed, and the two got into a conversation Sakura would rather not stay and hear the outcome of.

"I'll just…buy everyone's food today." Kakashi announced, edging toward the door while the girls were distracted bickering and Sai tried to make heads or tails of the cards he'd picked up.

"Don't get me wrong," Sakura sighed as they both slipped outside, Naruto tagging along, "I don't mind giving my wallet a break, but you know how that crew eats. Make sure it's enough in case anyone wants more."

"Maa maa," Kakashi laughed, eyes closing cheerfully. "I'm well aware. It'll be fine. More importantly, be sure you keep a close eye on this one," he patted Naruto's shoulder, "In case he slips away again."

"Who says Naruto's coming with me?" Sakura gawked, pointing at herself. No sooner had the question left her lips than the blonde was looming in her personal space.

"I'm definitely coming with you!" he declared. "We have so much to catch up on. When else am I gonna get you all to myself."

Kakashi tilted his head as if to say 'see what I mean?'

Maybe she was just too soft, but Sakura quickly melted. The idea of talking to Naruto after so long apart did sound appealing, no matter how exasperated she sometimes pretended to be in order to avoid encouraging him. "Fine," she relented, "It's not like I could talk you out of it anyway."

---

The air was thick with the smell of charcoal, and an undercurrent of cooking meat. Sitting on his knees and leaning over the table, Tomoharu reached indecisively for the little plate of gingko nuts before his hand froze, drifting to the tiny bits of cream sandwiches and berries that were skewered on a separate plate. He wiggled around, a nervous pout on his face.

"Just pick one!" His sister urged impatiently.

Flinching, Tomo's hand once again went for the gingko nuts, only to have a quicker one snatch the stick away just as his fingertips brushed it. "Hey!" he yelped, frowning hard as Saya munched away, unrepentant.

"You chose too slow." She shrugged.

Watching Tomoharu's eyes well with tears of frustration, Goemon swiftly slid a plate of fresh grilled soy and ginger glazed beef and hunks of vegetables. He settled down instantly, happily beginning to eat.

"Wait, why does he get that?" She pointed, her silver eyes full of betrayal and a stubborn piece of hair curling over her forehead.

"Because you were being mean to your brother again," he replied, pulling a plate of tuna and sweetcorn yakitori from the middle of the table. One bite and the rich flavor reminded him of traveling along the coast of Lightning Country. Back then, he'd slept under the stars and roamed wherever he thought innocent people might need him. Settling in a village like this was an adjustment, but not a bad one by his estimation. Saya and Tomoharu were safe and had stability. And he had…a reason or two all his own to appreciate their new sedentary lifestyle.

"Sorry Tomo," Saya apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful.

Tomoharu, always sweet and quick to forgive, gave her a gap-toothed smile, proud to have recently lost his first tooth. He offered her one of the large skewers, and she accepted it gratefully. Goemon listened to them chatter back and forth, about things like how good the food here was and their friends at the academy.

He paid particular attention to any mention of Yurine, their ever encouraging sensei. They sure were attached to her. Saya especially always talked about wanting to emulate Yurine, maybe become a kunoichi that specialized in sword-fighting and genjutsu one day. Considering how guarded she used to be, refusing to get close to anyone who wasn't him or Tomo, it was nice to see her this open and happy.

She wasn't the only one, though.

Ever since becoming a professional gentleman thief, Goemon had been a man of many faces. Manipulation was a useful tool in his line of work, be it subtle or heavy. As long as it achieved his goals, as long as he helped people. There were pretty women all over the world he had met, and he was no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, but Yurine was something different.

She had faith in others. She had faith in fairytales. She had faith in the world. It was refreshing and pure. When Guren Kuranoshin had met her in Ōtsu-shi, never did he think it would become the sort of fateful meeting that changed his world. Now here he was, living in a ninja village.

His parents had been able to tell something was different even before he'd told them, just by reading his letters. When Goemon revealed where he'd ended up, they were so excited and impressed. A large village like this was inconceivable from the small farming area he'd grown up in. Still, they told him to continue to enjoy himself, to watch out for Saya and Tomo as always, and to expect a visit from them soon.

And he liked the sound of that. Showing his parents around and bringing them somewhere like this. "Whatcha thinkin' about?" Tomo asked, eyes shining innocently and cheeks bulging with food. There was some sauce smeared in the corner of his mouth he hadn't noticed yet.

"That we should bring ma and pa here soon. What do you think?"

"Yeah!" Saya cried, "It's been so long since we got to see obachan and ojichan."

Tomo nodded along enthusiastically. "I miss them."

"They miss you too." He tapped the little nose, watching it scrunch as his brother smiled. "I'll let you both write them letters when we get home."

The kids cheered, the conversation switching to talk of his ma's little hand-made gifts and the outdoor activities his pa always did with them. His parents loved the siblings like they were his own. Though the pair regarded him as something of an older brother, his parents treated them more like grandchildren. Goemon was sure that if he introduced them to Yurine, his ma would be elated. Unbeknownst to Yurine, he had mentioned her a time or two in his letters—casually. He suspected his mother could already tell though. Somehow she always could.

She had always wanted him to find someone nice and have that connection. Of course, first and foremost his parents were proud of his desire to help others, a rare sense of justice not many possessed, they said.

The samurai suspected he would always feel called to step in when he saw something that didn't sit right with him. So at the very least, he needed someone by his side who understood that commitment. And maybe the way they had met was unusual, but Goemon still envisioned Yurine might come around. She just needed time to see it the way he did. He could be patient and give her that.

In the meantime, watching Saya and Tomo stuff their faces, knowing he could keep buying them meals like this, was enough.

That and a little person watching. It was a pastime he never grew bored of. Even as a child, he was observant, always careful to memorize his surroundings and the people in it. As a samurai and master of disguise, he honed it into a reliable skill. But even if he wasn't, it would be hard to miss the head of silver hair strolling into the establishment with a slouch and deceptively disinterested face. A pair of eyes just as observant as his met Goemon's from across the room.

Kakashi. That was the guy who fell from the sky, landed in the canal, and most importantly, interrupted his time with Yurine. "What's wrong?" Saya asked as he got up.

"I'll be back. Just spotted a familiar face," he explained. Kakashi could have passed for the younger double of his father, so that was about as true as it got.

Goemon sauntered right over, Kakashi having placed an order and then sat down at a bench near the door. "That's not very mannerly. Where I'm from, when we see kin, we come say hi," The samurai sat down without waiting to be invited, grinning toothily.

"I'll keep that mind…" Kakashi crossed his arms, eyes seemingly trained straight ahead, where the restaurant's staff bustled around grilling food and delivering orders to booths. Goemon knew he was being watched from the other man's peripherals. "But you looked a bit busy. I wouldn't want to interrupt."

Back at the table, Saya was trying to eat two skewers at once, and failing miserably, but it didn't look like she was upset with the results. Tomo flailed in concern, patting her back when she choked and urging her to drink water (or relinquish one of the skewers to him). Despite still wanting to get a better read on Kakashi, his face softened fondly.

They really were the little siblings he had never thought much of having until he met them. That had been a terrible night, where he realized he'd made a costly mistake, choosing to take the job he had. The only upside was that he had figured out what was going on in time to save two innocent young children from their clan's fate.

Originally, the goal had been to drop them off at an orphanage, but his sense of guilt and obligation to them had both doubled by the next morning. And being the last two out there with their kekkei genkai, they would only be targeted again, he reasoned. What if no one was able to protect them? Thus, he concluded they were safest with him.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're not someone that's been around kids much." He said absently.

"On the contrary," Kakashi held up six fingers, "I've got a lot to feed waiting for me. Well, they'd probably resent being called kids now." he pondered. "They're all grown up. You've met Sakura."

"I have," He didn't often forget a face, especially not one with bright green eyes framed by blush pink hair. It stood out, if nothing else. Interesting she had advanced as a kunoichi, of all professions. Goemon didn't exactly know much else about her though, save for the fact that she was one of Yurine's friends. And that said girl had spent the first fifteen minutes of their time together gushing about Sakura, her skills, her intelligence and how much their friendship meant. He couldn't deny he was a little envious. Yurine held her in high regard. "You were her sensei, right?"

"For a time," Kakashi reflected, hand passing against his knee as he rubbed it absently. "She's come a long way, more because of her own tenacity than anything I taught her."

"So…what was discussed the other night," Goemon arched a brow, "All true?"

"All true."

If Goemon wanted to be honest with himself, in spite of what he had heard and the seeming 'proof' before his eyes, there was a large and growing seed of skepticism. After all, seeing wasn't always believing. And if a man came blazing out of the sky and was all but claiming to be some relationship of his from the far flung future, it deserved to be questioned, didn't it?

Kakashi's presence aside, his very existence would mean that he had (or would?) put down roots at some point in the future. Had to in order to have a descendant so far into the future. Made Goemon want to ask a number of other things, but…who knew how that worked. Might be better to leave speculation where it was.

"Huh,"

"Why do I get the feeling it's only just now starting to feel plausible to you." Kakashi guessed. Yeah, he was a sharp one. "Still, you seem to be taking it…well."

Goemon adopted a slouch of his own, one that mirrored the other man's. "I don't have much choice in the matter, Kakashi." He shrugged. "Not to mention, the way I see it, it won't matter for much longer."

"Oh?" The hum of interest served to signal him to elaborate, so he did without much thought.

Lowering his voice, he watched one of the cooks place a ready order on the counter at the front and ring the small bell on top of it. "Order up!" Kakashi glanced over, but didn't make a move to stand. When a small woman ushering a grabby child darted to the small bag of food, Goemon understood why.

"You…traveled back in order to fulfill one objective, right?" He languidly swiped his tongue across one of the ever sharp teeth in his mouth, an old habit. "Seems to me you managed that. I reckon you're not going to hang around too much longer. I can't begin to parse out how you're getting home, but it seems unlikely you'd stay longer than necessary." Goemon paused, glancing over at his possible descendant, whose eyes were wide in surprise. "Tell me if I'm warm or if I'm hot."

"Scorching," he admitted.

There was no more spoken between them, the two of them just sitting there, shoulder to shoulder, surrounded by the sounds of dining patrons, chatter, sizzling meat, and the hum of a fan. "I don't know anything about you," Kakashi said quietly, "So it's not as if I have any basis to measure off, but, it's a bit unusual you aren't pressing me to say more."

"Is it?" Goemon blinked.

Kakashi shrugged one shoulder, considering his own words. "This isn't an opportunity that most people have often."

"I suppose to some people it might be tempting," he rubbed the side of his neck with the back of his knuckles, noticing it was time for a shave. He was getting scruffy. A little ruggedness was good for the brand. It helped sell the mysterious gentleman thief persona, even if no one knew that's what he was. But tipping too much in the other direction, and he'd just look like a vagrant. He couldn't shame his poor ma that way, like she'd never taught him how to look tidy. "But, I've seen what falling to temptation can do to a man. Personally, I try to avoid it."

The little bell rang again, this time multiple bags full of mouth-watering food sat on the counter. Goemon counted at least five. Ah, an order like that could feed an outfit of hungry mercenaries. "Order up!" called the same cook.

Kakashi rose to his feet, stretching a little. "Sounds wise."

Impressively, he managed to grab all the bags in one hand, using his other to offer a casual two-fingered salute. "It was nice talking."

"Sure was," Goemon nodded, "If we run into each other again, don't be a stranger."

When he returned to the table, Saya was waiting for him with narrowed eyes, questions at the ready. "Who was that man you were talking to? He sort of looked like ojichan." Tomoharu wouldn't be that forceful, but he sure was attentively listening.

"Didn't he?" Goemon grinned wide, "Maybe that's why I decided to go over and strike up a conversation."

"Is he your brother?" Tomo asked shyly. The Hatake sat down, resuming his meal, thankful he didn't see any little teeth marks in the skewers he'd set aside.

"Ma and pa would have some explaining to do if he was," he chuckled. "But you know, they say everyone has at least three people who look like them somewhere in the world. Maybe it was something like that."

"He didn't look like you." Saya pointed out, persistent. "He looked like he was related to you." She was a smart girl, always had been. Even when he had met her that night three years ago, she understood perfectly what had happened.

He'd found the two of them hiding, well-concealed behind a false wall. Six-year old Saya had clutched the shivering three-year old Tomo tight in her arms. Goemon towered over most other adults, so he knew he was colossal to them. He would've expected that to be intimidating enough to make two scared young children burst into tears.

Instead, he was taken aback by the steady, unfaltering gaze that found his, "Are you here to take us away…like the bad people took everyone else?" Before he knew it, he had been crouching down to offer them a hand, touched by her bravery and the protectiveness she displayed with her brother.

"Then maybe he's a distant relative," he wiped a bit of sauce on Tomo's cheek off with his thumb. "From faraway."

"Oh," Saya munched the rest of the beef skewer in her hand, satisfied with that for the time being. "Well, even if he's your new family, as long as you don't leave us for him, I don't care."

Goemon solemnly laid a hand over his heart, "You have my word as a gentleman thief, that it would never happen."

"And a gentleman thief's word is his bond!" Tomo recited happily. Had he really told them that line that many times?

Goemon ruffled his hair. 'As long as whatever's going on doesn't endanger these two, Lady Yurine or any innocents, I guess it's not something to worry about for now.'

Hopefully, it stayed that way.

---

Sakura waited, hand on her hip, as Naruto stood around and gawked. They had taken too many detours to call it a time-saver. If anything, all the stops probably doubled the time it would have otherwise taken to reach their destination. He was adamant on seeing what all might have changed in the village over the decades, no matter how much Sakura had insisted that architecturally things remain more or less the same, if not newer in the current time period. But Naruto probably wasn't even listening. It was a good thing she'd missed him so much.

"Anyway, we've had to do a lot to get here. Working with creeps like Orochimaru and Kabuto wouldn't be my first choice," he was telling her, roaming around like he knew where he was going. "But we weren't about to leave you behind."

It was an indescribable but heartwarming feeling to know she had been so sorely missed, that she had people who would stop at nothing, even cooperating with former enemies in order to bring her back. Team Seven had its issues in the past, but it just reaffirmed what she already knew. Somehow or another, they would always be in each other's lives, even if it was at a great distance. "It sounds like you've all been through a lot," Sakura said.

"Not as much as you've been through!" Naruto's smile dimmed remorsefully. "Sorry we couldn't be here for you through all that." She had told him about some of the obstacles she had faced while living in the past, the times she had nearly died, and explained about her godslayer status. "But we're here now, and that's what counts, right?"

It was a beautiful spring day, and so of course the village was alive with activity. Giving up on getting to the butcher shop for the time being, they had stopped in the park, admiring the beautiful cherry blossoms. Sitting there on a bench, the pair took it in, Naruto having returned with snacks for them he had bought from a nearby taiyaki cart.

While her friend dug into the two he'd bought for himself, the pinkette nibbled quietly on her first one. "Don't take it as me saying I don't appreciate it," Sakura sighed, staring down at her lap. "But I'm sort of nervous about that, actually. These gods aren't like anything we've ever dealt with. Jutsu isn't even effective against them."

"Right." He swallowed a big mouthful. "You did mention that. So uh, you can fight them because you've got mu…mushi?"

"Musubi," Sakura corrected. "It connects me to Mizuchi's power. Well actually, godslayers become vessels filled with divine essence, but learning how to use it is still a struggle. Anyway, as long as I'm a godslayer I stand a chance. But the rest of you…I'm not doubting you I just…want you all to be safe. I'd never get over it if anyone got hurt or worse after we'd reunited."

"Hey," The blonde nudged her shoulder playfully, "Remember who you're talking to. If there's anybody that can find a way to rise against the odds, I'm your guy."

"Don't I know it," Some of the tension that had been settling in her chest relaxed, and Sakura tilted her head in thought. "Actually, a few times I thought you might be better suited to this whole thing than me." Her statement drew a wide-eyed stare, "Although, I think you'd look more reliable without bean paste smeared on your mouth like that." Naruto quickly licked it off, pouting when she laughed. "You really haven't changed. That's nice,"

"Yeah, well, I can't say the same thing about you." Her teammate remarked, squinting as he leaned into her face. Sakura moved away a bit, giving him a strange look. "You're definitely Sakura-chan but you just feel different now, you know? Maybe it's all that godslayer stuff you've been through."

"Really?" Sakura smiled a little, "Ino said the same thing. Different how?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "It's just a feeling."

"I'm stronger than ever." It wasn't a brag, but it was hard to deny at this point. The kunoichi truthfully thought she was as strong as she was ever going to get, in her prime and finally on par with her teammates, at the end of the war. Then they had risen to new heights again, wielding powers directly from the Sage that placed them a cut above everyone else on earth.

It was enough to make her a little frustrated, possibly doubtful. Not that there was any time to voice such a thing on the battlefield when Kaguya was so close to victory. Any hesitation or insecurity had to be pushed well and firmly to the side.

Then, she'd fallen through time, only to be put through a new kind of test. Sakura had thought Mizuchi's training would truly break her. There was no way she could push past her limits any further.

Not when she was only mortal. But it turned out there was still room to dig even deeper, and when she tapped into that, Sakura achieved ascension on a higher plane than imaginable. "And I guess, time-traveling does give a lot of insight into things I never thought about before." She resumed eating her taiyaki before Naruto got any ideas about finishing it off for her. "I mean, it was weird enough during the war when so many of the Hokage were brought back. I never thought I'd be living in Konoha before my parents were even born."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Naruto nodded sympathetically, "I…I actually got to meet my ma's clan. And see Uzushio." His eyes shined wetly, and Sakura placed a hand on his arm. Naruto sniffled, rubbing vigorously at his eyes before a single tear could fall. "But I mean, it was great! It's not something I'm gonna forget."

Her heart warmed over the thought of Naruto having experienced that. It was something nothing could take away, even if it wasn't meant to last. "At least something good came out of it then, huh?"

"Yeah," he hummed, cheeks stretching into an even wider smile. "Though I gotta say Sakura-chan, I feel sort of bad for you."

"Huh?"

"You've been stuck in the past for what, almost a year? And you've had to deal with bastards like Madara too." Naruto scowled in disdain. "I don't think I'd be able to handle it."

"Oh," She paused, remembering that the only Madara that came to mind for Naruto was the one from the war. "Well, I guess that was a pretty big problem at first. I hated him when I got here. It didn't matter if it was a whole new time period. It just didn't matter, because he was the same man who'd hurt you, and killed all those shinobi," Sakura shook her head. "My blood would boil whenever I saw him. He was always so smug for some reason."

"Exactly, I bet he's still the same rotten bastard even now," Naruto's lip curled in a slight growl.

Sakura ate and said nothing. It would be difficult to explain her feelings to Naruto when she didn't fully understand them herself. All she could say for certain was that she no longer harbored such extreme negative emotions towards him. Dislike might have even been too strong a term now. 'Naruto's been able to get through to quite a few of our enemies in the end.' She considered, 'So maybe he'd actually get it.' Sasuke's reaction and the way he'd stormed out of Izuna and Madara's house flitted across her mind. 'Then again…' If his reaction was as bad as Sasuke's, she could risk isolating him too, and that wasn't something she wanted to risk unnecessarily.

Regardless, her friend continued to sit and rant, expanding on all of Madara's speculated bad points that she would have at one time wholly agreed with. Simpler times to be sure. Sakura half-listened lazily, waiting for Naruto to get it all out of his system and people watching in the meantime.

Families and loners alike drifted by, admiring the blossoming trees. And, of course, plenty of couples. Romantic strolls underneath the cherry blossoms were a staple of love in springtime really. It was no surprise to see a woman turn away with a blush and a giggle when her lover gently brushed the petals from her hair and cupped her cheek. Or, when another couple stopped to connect their lips and then fell into each other, oblivious to the world in their passion.

Without sounding too conceited, Sakura had to admit her parents had picked a very special flower to name her after, fleeting though they may have been. 'This is the regular variety, though.' she thought. 'I wonder how many people know these aren't the only kind of cherry blossoms anymore.' It was selfish, she was aware, but Sakura hoped the grove full of bioluminescent sakura trees hadn't been discovered by anyone else.

Silly though it might have been, she'd enshrined the memory, able to perfectly recall even now how touched and awed the scenery made her.

A pretty white wagasa floated by, nothing unusual in itself. Here and there, she had seen several people using them in the time they'd been resting there. What made this one unique was who was under it. Sakura sat forward, Naruto's voice washing away and replaced by the dull ringing in her ears.

It was the same Uzumaki woman as before, still radiant, fair skin protected by the shade the wagasa provided. Walking beside her, standing tall and proud, guiding her by the arm, was the Hokage. They painted quite the picture together, the contrast in their skin tones, the dignified air surrounding them, the grace and the strength and the beauty. It was clear now who the Uzumaki that would become Tsunade-shishou's grandmother was.

Sakura felt her heart topple down to her feet, unwilling to try unpacking why there was a stinging pressure building behind her eyes. She got to her feet, trying not to be too abrupt and draw attention to herself. Naruto looked up at her curiously. "Something wrong?"

"No," Sakura put on a reassuring smile, closing her eyes so he didn't notice it didn't reach them. "I was just thinking about how long we've probably been sitting here. Let's get that meat and head back. The others might already be eating by now."

"You're right," Naruto gaped, "I wouldn't put it past Sai to eat our portions with a smile on his face. He really packs it away for a thin guy." Having made up his mind, he scrambled up, brushing the taiyaki crumbs from his shirt and determinedly walking off. In the wrong direction.

"Hey Naruto, hold on a minute…" Sakura hurriedly cleaned up the wrappers the taiyaki had come in, hunting for a trash receptacle to throw it in. She'd never eaten in the park here. Did they even have those? "Ugh,"

Dodging the tiny children running around clenching handfuls of cherry blossoms, she searched for Naruto, only to accidentally meet eyes with the wrong person.

Sakura sucked in and held her breath, unable to look away from the deep brown gaze locked on hers. Hashirama seemed to be similarly affected, standing there with the woman at his side, staring at her as if she were simultaneously a suspicious stranger and a close friend. No one had ever looked at her that way before in her life, and it sent an unsure shiver down her spine as she attempted a cordial smile.

"H-Hello," Sakura got out.

"Hello." The woman responded first. "I hope you don't find it forward of me, but your hair is quite unusual."

It wasn't anything she hadn't heard before, so it didn't exactly hurt her feelings, though it wasn't what she had been expecting.

"In a good way. It suits this season perfectly." she finished.

"I've always thought that too," Sakura said softly.

"Please forgive me," The Uzumaki released Hashirama's arm and bowed shallowly, "My name is Mito Uzumaki of Uzushio."

"I'm…" she swallowed, hoping it alleviated the dryness in her throat. "Sakura Haruno,"

"A pleasure." Mito hummed pleasantly. "Actually, I believe we briefly saw each other earlier today."

"Y-Yes," Sakura wondered where the hell Naruto was. She could really use some saving, "We did."

Mito's expression furrowed slightly, but not enough to cause serious wrinkles on her noble brow. "You wouldn't happen to be the same Sakura-san that Naruto-kun is so fond of?"

Naruto…of course Naruto had told them about her. He told practically everyone about her, as if knowing her were some badge of honor. It was endearing on the one hand, and on the other it was…

"One and the same." Sakura laughed lightly, rubbing her neck. "I was actually just here with him, but he's wandered off somewhere."

"Oh my," Mito tittered behind her sleeve. "He's a lively one. He reminds me of my brother in some ways," she revealed, "so I've grown fond of him in a short amount of time."

"He has that effect on you." Sakura agreed, "Especially once he latches on."

"I see," Mito hummed, "Well, I'm glad you've been reunited. He seemed fretful over finding you." Glancing up at Hashirama, who was fidgeting inconspicuously, she continued, "I'm sorry. I've been doing so much of the talking…given that you seem to be so close to all your villagers, I take it you know Sakura-san as well."

Hashirama made a sound of confirmation, "I do. We do…w-we've met." he stammered.

"Would you like the opportunity to talk more then?" Sakura was shocked when Mito stepped away from Hashirama, taking her wagasa and pointing to a spot under a different clump of cherry blossom trees. "I'd like to go and visit that tree now. I spy a rare species of caterpillar we don't have in Uzushio on its bark."

"A-Actually, I—" She paid neither of them any mind, floating away like an empress, head held high as she went in search of the insect.

To say the silence left behind was an awkward one would be an understatement. She and Hashirama looked at each other, then away. It was so uncomfortable, Sakura would have rather been staring down the gleaming, murderous serpent Orochi all over again. "Um," she cleared her throat, deciding that the least she could do was give a pleasant greeting, "I didn't expect to see you here," Is what came out instead.

'Stupid! Stupid!' Sakura berated herself.

"I could say the same. What timing," Hashirama's tone was light, but nowhere as exuberant as the way she had gotten used to him greeting her. Her heart thumped painfully, wondering if this was the way it would be up until she left forever. She had managed to talk things out with both Izuna and Tobirama, and there didn't seem to be much to talk out when it came to Madara—except that he thought she was staying…

But it was turning out that Hashirama was a different case.

"Well…it is a nice time of day to see the cherry blossoms." Sakura shrugged, "But it's really because my friend Naruto wanted to sightsee," she rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself. "As if this isn't the same village he's spent his whole life in."

"The circumstances of his arrival are as unusual as your own, I'm sure," Though she didn't think he meant it maliciously, Sakura internally flinched. "I suppose it's worth soaking it all in from his perspective. He seems like the type that prefers to be constantly moving."

"You wouldn't be wrong about that." Sakura sighed a little. Sometimes, an unvoiced concern of hers was how Naruto would adapt to the Hokage work that required long hours, sometimes even all day, sitting behind a desk. His clones might be able to handle it, since that was the workaround Hashirama sometimes used.

But it would be seen as disrespectful to use them in place of appearing personally when it came to important work meetings with foreign leaders or even members of the community. Affairs Naruto would likely find stuffy. A consideration for another day, maybe.

"Anyway," she played with her yukata sleeve, "I wouldn't want to keep you. It seems like you're kind of busy right now,"

They turned to see Mito was leaning in very close to the bark of a tree, apparently murmuring to herself. From a distance, it almost looked like she was moving in to give it a hug. "Lady Mito appears to have found more interesting company for the time being," he joked at his own expense. "So I have a few moments to spare," he paused, eyes unsure. "If you do, that is. I wouldn't want to hold you up either."

"Naruto's got a one-track mind sometimes." Sakura admitted, "Either he'll realize he left me behind and turn around, or I'll get back to my house and find him stuffing his face.

"I see," Hashirama looked as though he was going to offer his arm, but thought better of it. "Then, shall we?"

As usual, he drew attention, and Sakura fought the urge to make herself smaller walking next to him when people they passed beamed at the Hokage. She couldn't remember the last time being in close proximity to him made her so…on edge.

Though, maybe it was unfair to say it was him. At least entirely. Seeing him with Mito, someone who appeared to belong at his side in every way, Sakura couldn't help the wrongness that churned through her stomach. Was she doing something wrong?

Glancing back, she could just barely spot the Uzumaki standing where they left her, not in the least bit concerned for the happenings around her. At first impressions, she seemed such a regal individual, but Sakura had to say, she couldn't really tell what was going through the woman's head.

Why did she decide she wanted them to spend time together? Because she spotted a bug? It had to be more than that…

"I have to say this…brings back some memories." Sakura turned her face up, catching sight of Hashirama's side profile, and the strange light in his eyes. Was it melancholy? Regret? Affection? She couldn't be sure.

"The other night wasn't that long ago," Sakura wasn't sure how she felt to be talking about it, given how much had happened in such a short time. "So I guess it does…"

Sakura stared up at the pale, delicate flowers dotting the branches above their heads. The ephemeral beauty of the blooms evoked such a strong sense of wonder and grief, captivating artists, poets and the average passerby for centuries. The fleeting nature of the cherry blossoms. That moment had been fleeting too.

"Right," He cleared his throat, "And you've reunited with all your friends now…which means…"

Sakura knew where he was going, but the assumption still made her frown. "Actually, I was going to speak to everyone later today about that. I know you said there was no rush, but I apologize if them staying in the village is an imposition, Hokage-sama."

Hashirama made a sharp noise under his breath, "That's not necessary."

"To apologize?" Sakura wondered, "Hosting more people who don't belong here than just me feels like a situation that could be stressful for you, so I'm just—"

"No," he shook his head, frustration surfacing on his face. "Though that isn't an issue either. What I meant was, returning to the formalities. It isn't necessary."

It was Sakura's turn to regard him with a bit of vexation, canting her head as they met eyes. "Are you sure? I didn't know if it was appropriate to maintain familiarity, all things considered." Admittedly, it might have also had something to do with how quickly he dropped the endearment. "Was I misreading things, or would you not like us to keep some form of professionalism going forward?"

The Hokage's jaw tensed, and he opened his mouth, only to close it when a family meandered by. Wordlessly, they both proceeded to pretend to view the flowers. Everyone around them seemed blessedly oblivious to the tension hanging over the pair.

"I can't say I didn't deserve that." he said once they were relatively alone again. "I didn't mean to…" Hashirama sighed heavily, "I wasn't trying to make you feel as though I wanted you to hurry on your way. But I let my shock make me abrupt and dismissive. I'm sorry."

Sakura could practically taste the sincere regret pouring off him. She clasped her hands together. "It felt like everything was going so well, then it all got turned on its head. I'm the one that chose to keep that secret for so many months. I can understand your reservations about me."

Hashirama fully turned to look at her then, his face softening for the first time since they had run into each other. There was still a hint of something sad and tired in his eyes that didn't suit him, but for the time being she tried to focus only on his words. "I don't have any reservations about you, Sakura-chan."

Hearing the endearment slip from his lips again made her heart do an unexpected flip. If he had made a mistake, he didn't correct himself. "But if I can be honest, I feel out of my depth as a leader and a man. I don't know how to proceed." The admission made her feel for him, her mind whispering that she was a large part of the cause for his stress, even if he was absolving her of blame.

"I've known for some time I've been selfish. Knowing that you won't be with us forever drove that home a little more. For a while I've been thinking, how could I best support you so you don't feel the need to shoulder the fight for everyone's future alone. Even then, you were caught in a more difficult situation than I could have ever imagined. I can't fault you for the way things turned out when every decision I've made has been presumptuously based on the kind of support I thought you needed, not what you said you wanted."

"What if what you thought was right?" Sakura challenged, surrendering control to the passion bubbling up in her voice.

Hashirama startled, taken aback. "I—"

"You wanted to support me. And maybe that's what I wanted too. I won't say it didn't start out lonely. But I've made so many bonds since then. I've only come this far because the people around me played a part in that. That includes you, Hoka—Hashirama." She smiled, relieved that they could keep this small bit of casualness, even if she wasn't sure it was wise. "There's nothing to be apologetic for. I guess we both just made our choices, thinking we were doing what was best."

"A 'no one was wrong' situation," Hashirama contemplated. "If that's how you view it, I could live with that."

"Good," Sakura replied emphatically. "I don't want to think of the time I spent getting close to everyone here with regret."

A speedy blur nearly tumbled into her, and Sakura cried out in exasperation, snagging Naruto by the back of his clothes before he could cause a collision. She didn't bother questioning how abruptly he had shown up, or why it wasn't sooner. That was Konoha's number one knuckle-headed ninja alright. "I didn't mean to leave you behind! I was almost at your front door before I realized—"

"Like I said before," Sakura flicked his forehead. "You never change."

"Mm, don't be mean." He grumbled, his attention landing on Hashirama. "Oh, Old Man First is here too. Didn't realize you knew each other."

"For the record," Hashirama sulked, "I'm really not that old."

"Well by our time, you will be." Naruto countered. "Also dead." The pinkette smacked her forward at her friend's usual tactless approach. "Anyway, I really want us to get to the food before it's all gobbled up, so…"

"Yeah, yeah…" Sakura shook her head. "So much for grabbing that meat. I guess I really can't be too hard on Sai. A simple trip is apparently a lot more complicated than it should be today." Able to turn a smile on the Hokage, she waved. "I should get going. But, I'm glad we had the chance to talk."

The broad smile she was so familiar with filled his tanned face. "So am I."

Naruto stared between them, one brow raised. Sakura grabbed his shoulders before he had the opportunity to ask any embarrassing questions. Who knew what was passing through his mind. "You were hungry right? So let's go."

The weight that came off her chest after having cleared the air with Hashirama might as well have been a boulder. Sakura wasn't naive enough to imagine it'd be smooth sailing from there on, but at least the Hokage was one more person she could confirm didn't loathe her.

---

As it turned out, they had made it for the meal after all. Even with all the time wasted, given how long it took the restaurant to prepare such a large order—and Kakashi being stopped by Goemon—the meal wasn't over, much to Naruto's relief.

Everyone sat around her table, eyes shining and mouths all but drooling as Kakashi pulled the food from the bags one by one. Shamefully, Sakura hadn't even known about Nagomiya, the name of the restaurant known for their sake and kushiyaki. Plates were brought out, and Sakura idly thought that she was not going to be the one to do the dishes. There wasn't much said, besides a little squabbling about who got what first. Kakashi intervened, telling them it should be her that got first choice, considering they were staying in her home and eating off her plates.

Sakura didn't have the energy to play the humble card and object, so she got a little of everything that was brought and dug in. The tender, savory beef with the crisp, hearty vegetables hit the spot, at any rate.

"Hey," Naruto huffed as Sai snatched a container containing kanmuri yakitori. The artist took his time selecting two sticks, as if they weren't all identical. Likely just to get under Naruto's skin. The boys got along better by the end of the war, and she suspected they had gotten even closer in her absence. But clearly Sai still couldn't help himself from time to time. "Don't you think I deserve that a little more than you after the ordeal I've had?"

Sai bit into the succulent meat, eyes squinting happily as he chewed. "What I think and what's appropriate to say to your face are two different things." he chirped.

The disgruntled blonde growled, yanking the tray away from Sai. Whatever snarky rebuttal was on the edge of his tongue died in an outraged cry as Sasuke pulled the food from his hands while he was distracted. "What the hell?!"

"Don't spit all over the food. The rest of us have to eat it too." The Uchiha scoffed.

"So noisy," Ino complained, she and Karin sharing some of the sasami. "But I guess that's how team meals always are, huh? Gotta say, it kind of makes me miss my team back home." She dipped her meat into the tare sauce. "Not that I like having to fight Chouji for the first bite."

"Yeah," Karin joined in, reaching over Sasuke to grab some of the mentsuyu sauce. It didn't escape Sakura how heavily her bosom brushed his arm, but since he didn't react to it, she felt no need to pass comment. "Tell me about it. Suigetsu not being here to talk with his mouth full and spray food everywhere is a dream,"

"Glad everyone enjoyed it." Kakashi's eyes disappeared as he smiled underneath his mask.

"Aren't you going to have some, sensei?" The pinkette goaded, causing the jounin to look down at his own plate of pīman no nikuzume and fluffy rice.

"Hm? Of course," he broke his chopsticks, picking up some of the food with great care as the rest of the table eyed him carefully from their peripherals.

It wasn't really unexpected when Usamaro sent a wooden spoon left on the kitchen counter to the floor, causing nearly everyone to jump.

Kakashi had already readjusted his mask by the time they turned back around, cheeks moving as he ate. Somehow, the universe was a willing co-conspirator that refused to let them see his face, and Sakura was too use to it to be upset. One day.

"Ah, this is good!" Naruto wasn't shy at all about going for seconds, or was it thirds? "Now that we're all here, it's about time to talk about heading home, right? How many days did Shikamaru say we had again?"

"More than enough, since the fates saw fit to reunite us with Sakura so swiftly." Kakashi remarked. "Although…if there are any loose ends that need to be tied up before we go, it might be a good time to bring them up…"

"Loose ends?" Naruto's stuffed face scrunched in bemusement. "What loose en—"

Karin's elbow none too gently found his ribs. "He wasn't talking to you, idiot."

She was correct. Kakashi's dark eyes were trained knowingly on Sakura, who slowly wiped at her mouth, thinking over what she wanted to say.

"Would you all be willing to hear me out?" She asked, searching their faces for any sign of objection.

Thankfully food had made everyone pliant, and not even Sasuke looked particularly put out by the request.

Deciding that the best place to start would be with expressing her genuine gratitude, Sakura began speaking, "You know I've been here a while, and I know you've all put a lot of time and effort into finding me. There's no way I can say thank you adequately enough for that,"

Ino, Naruto, Kakashi and Sai regarded her understanding, but there was no way they didn't also sense her hesitancy. "The thing is…leaving now, I'm not sure it'd be wise."

The next bite of food Naruto had been hoisting to his mouth missed, and he stabbed his cheek with the end of the chopsticks instead. Hissing, his fingers grazed the undoubtedly sore spot. "Sakura," Without the endearment affixed, the kunoichi knew he was absorbing her words. "Are you saying what I think you are?"

Out of all of them Ino and Kakashi looked the least surprised. Like they expected it, as a matter of fact.

Nonetheless, to be sure there was no ambiguity about the meaning of her words, Sakura nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "I can't go home yet. Not until this threat is dealt with. I'm sorry," She closed her eyes tightly, bracing for the worst possible reactions.

"…That's it, huh?" Karin broke the uncomfortable quiet that had settled over everyone. "Your mind's already made up."

Sealing her lips around the end of her chopsticks as she took a big bite of rice, Sakura nodded. "A future isn't a future without a past."

"Where does that put us?" Sasuke glowered into his food. "The sidelines?" It would stand to reason that his pride was still wounded about what she said before. He and Naruto were leagues above every other shinobi on earth. In their own time. Here, they had few contenders, but in the face of true deities, what did any of it matter? Their power was still dependent on chakra. Extremely old and powerful chakra, but chakra nonetheless. And, to be blunt, that was useless.

"Well, I'm not going back if Sakura's staying here." Naruto declared. In spite of herself, Sakura hid a smile. Loyal fool.

"You just have to be the first dog to bark," Ino tsked. "For your information, I was about to say that."

"Ino…"

"Don't go acting all touched." Ino smirked. "You've been in the spotlight for long enough already. Plus, I'm not done admiring the specimens roaming around right now."

"Whatever you say," Sakura retorted, returning to her food.

"You're all being irrational." Sasuke muttered, "How much time do you think we have?"

"Excuse me, Sasuke," Sai said politely. "Considering your track record of irrationality, making that kind of statement may bring undue attention to yourself."

Sasuke's withering glare could cut through a solid hunk of four-inch thick ice, but not Sai's well-intentioned, passive aggressive observations.

"It's true that we're not here on extended vacation, so we'll have to be mindful of that." Kakashi voiced, "But I concede the point that…Sakura has something she feels strongly about doing before she leaves, and I'm sure none of us want the timeline to unravel."

"Who says it's not already?" Karin slurped down some of her noodles, shrugging when all eyes turned to her. "Just saying."

"It's definitely going to unravel if I don't do something."

"So did everyone agreeing to help you go in one ear and out the other?" Ino grumbled. "We're here now too, Forehead. It doesn't matter what you think we can or can't do, just put us to use."

"Before I agree to follow a plan, I'd like to know if there even is one." Sasuke pinned Sakura under a heavy stare. It should have been undercut by the way his cheeks had been stuffed full with vegetables just a minute ago, but sadly no such luck. "What good would it do if we all wound up stuck here?"

Annoyingly as he put it, Sakura knew he had a point. They were all on borrowed time, and her ticket home had always been Mizuchi, granted she kept up her end of the bargain. Though, after everything the goddess had dragged her through kicking and screaming, the pinkette supposed she owed her a little faith. Cryptic as the celestial being was, she'd never actually abandoned her.

"Are you going to try taking the fight directly to them?" Sai asked the Uchiha. "It sounds like a bad idea to me," he contemplated. "But I also thought you wouldn't mind, since those seem to be your favorite kind."

"It's funny, I don't remember you being particularly useful during the fight against Kaguya," Sasuke's voice held no emotion, not even spite, which made it all the sharper. "I was part of the bad idea that saved your life."

"Alright," Kakashi sighed, "Let's give it a rest. We need to inform the team in our own timeline about this, and the Sage may be the only way to deliver that message. Trying to summon him here would be our best bet. But for now, everyone should eat up and relax."

The meal continued in a strange cadence. There was no doubt that plenty of things were begging to be said, but everyone respected the boundary Kakashi had put down about it not being the time. Perhaps it was a bit cowardly, but Sakura wasn't exactly relishing in the fact that sooner or later, they would have to talk. Really talk.

About her decision. About everything.

Staying in the past—for the timebeing—wasn't a choice she'd reached lightly, but it was imperative those gods were stopped. Otherwise, the minute she left, everyone she had grown to care about would be vulnerable. But…that was just it. Not that her friends knew that. It was possible some of them had suspected. Ino, Sasuke and Kakashi were likely half onto it, if not fully.

It wasn't something she could help, or had intended, but somewhere along the line, scrambling to survive, Sakura had fallen in love with the past in a way that had grown…a little hard to ignore at the prospect of being ripped away from it. Her time wasn't entirely awful, and half of her was glad for the excuse to spend a little longer.

That didn't bode well, certainly. She had developed an attachment that was already going to hurt to break, and lingering definitely wouldn't help.

'It's not like there's much alternative.' Sakura offered herself the small comfort. 'This is a job Mizuchi might have pulled me into, but I have to finish it.'

It had begun simply enough—saving the past was going to create a safer future for those she was returning to, and to a less important degree, for herself. Now, it was as much about protecting those she'd be eventually leaving behind.

It was the best parting gift she could offer them.

---

Even if she wasn't a literal mind-reader, Ino didn't think Sakura's decision would have taken her by surprise. It was just…so Sakura. The determined, hard-working, bleeding heart that she was. Never one to leave a job unfinished. More importantly, Ino wondered if she understood how much she had come to care about the people in this time.

On some surface level, obviously she did, or she wouldn't have said they were her friends. But…being such an emotional person, Ino had to wonder if it went deeper than Sakura realized. Connection formed in a time of peril was a powerful thing. It had a way of bonding people together at a faster rate than normal.

Brainy or not, her friend had a tendency to be oblivious like that. She also wasn't convinced that the pinkette had accurately deduced their present feelings. They were not going to rejoice when she returned home with them. Probably the opposite.

"I thought we talked about this." Sakura grumbled, fluffing the pillows at the head of her bed.

"You talked, I pretended to listen." Ino informed her, stroking the cat that had come to rest, curled in her lap. She had never thought much about whether she preferred cats or dogs, but he was a friendly feline, and it made him surprisingly endearing. "I don't remember making any promises."

Sakura stared her down pointedly, then returning to arranging the bed. Once she had peeled back the covers, she only sighed, "Don't put your cold feet on me or I'll kick you."

"My feet are toasty, and, as I told you already…extremely well taken care of." Half-offended, Ino wiggled her pedicured toes for good measure. "Envy's never been a good look on you."

"Just stay on your side of the bed," Sakura yawned, shaking her head as she got comfortable. Ino sat down her friend's cat and followed suit.

The mattress was as comfy as it had been the other night, and she and Sakura had slept together when they were little girls spending time at each other's houses, so there was no issue there either.

It was just unfortunate she wasn't tired enough to fall asleep. Usamaro settled into the crook of space between their heads, his sleepy purrs cute.

"You know, Sakura…despite everything you said the other night, I think you've got a good thing here."

One of the pinkette's closed eyes shot open, the grassy green color shining even in the dark. "What are you talking about now?" She groaned, "More fantasizing?"

"Call it an observation," Ino replied, "I bet you did something pretty significant in your past life. Why else would you get picked to land here, surrounded by all these hotties?"

"I already told you, Ino…"

"I know, I know," Ino rolled her eyes. "Friendship." Still, she was obligated to continue needling after months of missing out on doing this. "Sometimes friends are pretty cute, though. No one's saying you're in love with them, but would there be anything wrong if you were 'in like'?"

"That's called infatuation." Sakura huffed, matter-of-factly. "Which you'd still be wrong about." The other kunoichi then adjusted on her pillow, rolling over. "Go to bed."

Ino lay there awake anyway, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Usamaro's sides and listening to him quietly purr.

"You know," Came a whisper in the dark, "What good would it do to get attached? It'd be stupid, right? This isn't where I'm meant to be."

Absorbing those words, Ino knew she needed to tread carefully. "It's where you ended up. Not by your own choice, but still…no one blames you if you like it here more than you thought you would."

"Ino, home's in the future, with all of you. With shishou, and my parents…"

"I'm not saying stay forever," Ino clarified, "I'm not even saying that's where your mind was going. I'm just saying, enjoying whatever parts of this you can while we're here isn't something I'd give you grief over. The experience sounds like it's been…good for you, in a weird way. Formative."

"Right." Sakura said tiredly. "Fighting the undead was pretty character-building."

"The…what?" Ino squinted in the dark. Sakura had recounted much of her adventures on that first night, but obviously abridged, on account of how late it had been.

"I'll tell you more later." There was some rustling as Sakura snuggled further down. Ino was almost ready to try drifting off, until she felt her bedmate shift up. "Wait…my parents. You didn't tell me anything about how they've been doing since I've been gone. What'd they think about you all coming to get me?"

She would be the first to admit that she was not prepared for that question, nor did she want to touch it by a long shot. Sakura's parents were…civilians, of course. Their understanding of shinobi affairs had always been second-hand knowledge from their daughter. Ino knew they didn't always disagree with Sakura's dedication to her career track.

Knew about the family fights that sometimes spawned. Her friend didn't feel completely understood or supported by her parents at times, but still loved them and valued their opinions. Which made it hard, because being a medic nin was something Sakura loved too much and had invested far too much of herself in to give up, even if she could never get their approval.

They didn't congratulate her when she completed her apprenticeship under Lady Tsunade, and the temperature in the Haruno home had been frigid for weeks after that. Even when she made chunin rank, their reaction was pretty subdued, from Ino's understanding.

They just didn't get how much all of it meant to Sakura, or maybe they were holding out the hope that one day she would 'wake up' and choose another career path. A more grounded one better suited to a civilian background.

When the war had ended and everyone came home, Mebuki and Kizashi Haruno had been personally informed by Kakashi that Sakura wasn't among them.

They had grieved like only parents could, though Mebuki's comment about how Sakura should have never participated in the war, knowing she was outclassed and in over her head, had really set Naruto off. Sai had dragged him away before he could pick a fight. She also doubted the couple had really understood what Kakashi tried to tell them about Sakura not being gone just because she wasn't with them.

They had probably taken it in the metaphorical or spiritual sense. Or they thought Kakashi had experienced some kind of mental break due to trauma when he recounted what they had all seen—Sakura disappearing through what they now knew was a portal.

Regardless, they had chosen to move forward with planning a funeral. To their credit, perhaps that had been the only way they knew how to cope and move on. The things that made sense to ninja just didn't always make sense to civilians. Everyone else close to Sakura had a gut feeling she was still out there, in need of rescuing but fighting tooth and nail to survive, and they began making plans of their own.

"You know them better than any of us," Ino tried, "The way they process things is different than a ninja."

"Ino," Sakura warned, "What's going on with my parents?"

"They're fine, it's just…" Ino took a deep, soldiering breath, "they never really bought into the idea you were coming home."

Sakura was silent. Ino waited. "Then…do they think I'm just…dead?"

"Sakura, that's all they know how to think."

"I've been trying to get back home. I…I wanted to see them again." her friend's voice came out gut-wrenchingly strained. "I know we've had our differences, but I thought they'd be waiting for me."

"I'm sure when they see you, it'll still be a big reunion."

"You never gave up hope." Sakura continued stubbornly, "Neither did my teammates. Hell, Karin's someone I only interacted with as an enemy before now, and she's still here!" Although her voice was rising, Ino knew her well enough to sense behind the bubbling anger was a well of deep hurt. She scooted closer, enveloping the other girl in a loose hug. "Were they really that ready to move on?"

The soft, cracked tone made her pull Sakura in even closer, saying nothing about the tears silently wetting her sleep shirt.

---

On the record, in case it had not been made abundant enough…Madara hated clan meetings. Worst still, he was supposed to be the one leading them, but too often as of late he wasn't the one calling them. Here he sat, in a dimly lit room amongst some of the most pompous and sanctimonious Uchiha still inexplicably above ground, listening to them deliberate about a matter that had already been resolved.

Sasuke Uchiha.

The boy was a thorn in his side and he had been around for all of a few days.

"How sure are we?" Fumihiro murmured, "Truly sure that this is Nanae and Enchō's boy?" They were right to be suspicious for a change, but Madara wasn't above manipulating them into thinking their own suspicions were unfounded. It would keep the peace far better than the truth.

"Enchō seems to have accepted him." Yaso pointed out. He was perhaps one of the only people on the council that Madara could stand, and he was also blessedly willing to accept what was put before him without looking too deeply into things. "I'd even say he has the same chin."

"What does that mean?" Maro scoffed, leaning into the table with a leer. "Enchō hasn't been in his right mind for almost twenty years."

As much as he hoped he wouldn't be struck down by the heavens for daring to agree with Maro, Madara had to admit he wasn't wrong. In fact, for dragging Enchō Uchiha into his deception, he did feel bad. After his wife had been presumably taken by bloodline hunters just before their child was expected, he was the first to plead with the clan head to rally a group and try to find her. Tajima, having small children of his own, had granted his request out of sympathy, but the search had turned up nothing.

The hunters had been prepared for the right moment to strike, and covered their tracks with great care. It didn't deter Enchō, who continued to search for years, never getting any closer to uncovering a solid clue. It drove him mad eventually. He sank into a shell of his former self, having to retire early from life as a shinobi and languishing in his house, keeping to himself. When he was seen around the compound, it was with a lost, vacant stare.

When he had heard news that an Uchiha, his missing child, had turned up alive and unscathed, he had demanded to meet him. Madara knew he couldn't very well refuse without raising suspicions, so he arranged for the meeting and supervised it himself. Enchō didn't care. His presence barely registered. He was fixated on taking in Sasuke from every angle, murmuring to himself with glassy eyes and eventually asking questions.

He and Izuna had coached the petulant boy on just what to say. And Sasuke, to his credit, was good at playing his role. Not once did he falter, all while convincingly playing the part of someone who had been ripped from his family and had stumbled his way home by pure happenstance.

After some time, Enchō took him into his arms and wept, and though Madara pitied him greatly, he was satisfied that this concocted story was a success. Next came convincing the clan's council, a far more arduous task. Again, they managed. But, unlike with Enchō, doubts remained. Now he had to sit and listen to them trade speculation, hoping to find a hole in the story that would unravel it all.

"That may be true, but I do remember putting him to the test." Yoshimasa drawled. Madara found himself grateful for the man's short attention span. He could be as conniving as the others when it suited him, but when meeting discussions didn't suit him, he voiced his impatience openly. "It seems a bit of an exhaustive and trivial matter to keep going over this. I'd like to move on."

It was imperative that in order to better sell the lie, Sasuke had to appear versed in their customs, but not too well-versed. It was curious actually, but when he and Izuna were going over what to say with him, it didn't seem like a stretch to believe his education on all matters pertaining to clan customs stopped in childhood.

If he didn't know any better, the clan head would have almost believed Sasuke actually hadn't grown up in the clan. Either way, it was to their benefit. After all, the story was that he had been held captive along with his mother Nanae until he was around seven, then she died and he was taken to a small island nation and sold to the emperor, who kept him as a prize to raise alongside his own son.

That part of the story had been Naoko's doing, and he personally thought she delighted a little too much in coming up with the tale. Though, Sakura seemed relieved she had taken the information about where she and Sasuke and the others truly came from in stride.

"Indeed," nodded Yaso, "He perfectly performed the Gōkakyū." He clapped his hands jovially. "And, he bears such a strong resemblance to Lord Izuna, it's uncanny I'd say." Given that Nanae was supposed to be his mother Nozomi's first cousin, the similarities between Izuna and Sasuke turned out to be quite fortuitous.

"Yes, the boy has Uchiha blood running through him. We can all see that," Rikiya huffed. "I'm beginning to agree with Yoshimasa that a change of topic is in order. If the rest of you aren't satisfied, confront the boy and be done with it." He waved his hand. "Anyway, I heard congratulations are in order, Yaso. It seems your grandson's proposed to his beloved?"

Everyone broke out into murmurs of perfunctory congratulations, as if they weren't all aware of that oaf Kazunari's pending nuptials. When Madara had run into him, he'd been quick to brag that he had beat him to finding a wife. As if it was a competition. As if he cared about that in the first place!

"Splendid news," Maro hummed, "Is there a date set for the wedding yet?"

"Not that I've been told," Yaso smiled, grandfatherly fondness clear on his face. "But given how long they've been together, I can't imagine them wanting to wait long. It wouldn't surprise me if they're married and expecting before the end of summer."

"This new generation is coming up nicely." Fumihiro spoke with pride, arms crossed as he nodded. "Kazunari's a fine young man and a shinobi that does our clan proud."

He was also a boastful asshole, Madara thought uncharitably, but if he said that, he'd be seen as the problem.

"Yes, I feel we're in good hands." Yoshimasa hummed.

Madara locked eyes with Maro, and immediately knew he was going to say something he would hate. "All that's left is for our clan head to announce he'll be taking a wife. The future of the clan rests on it."

All eyes turned to him, as if they had only just remembered he had been in the room all along.

Madara sat up straight, keeping his expression impassive and his voice cool, "I don't see the need to rush those things. The future of our name would fall to Izuna should something happen to me."

"Oh, but surely there must be someone that catches your eye?" Maro pressed, feigning innocence. "You've grown acquainted with several of the fine young ladies of the clan over the years."

The clan head resisted the urge to sneer. Was he supposed to be embarrassed at having had willing partners to warm his bed for years? None of them had ever complained.

"Yes, what about Miki?" someone suggested.

Miki was someone he'd never been with, and had no desire to be. She had once tried to garner favor with Naoko in order to get close with him, and rumor had it she had a penchant for poorly managing her money. He wasn't about to give her the opportunity to drain the clan coffers.

"I don't think so," Madara said. "In fact there is no one within the clan who—"

"Surely you jest!" Rikiya guffawed, "The girl spends money far too loosely. The clan would fall to financial ruin if she were made matriarch. Instead, what about my grandniece, Kokomo?"

She was kind, and minded her business. He had enjoyed their night together. The next morning she had cooked him breakfast and they had gone on as if nothing intimate had happened from that point. She had her eyes on Hikaku for some time, and besides which, nothing about her lit any sort of deep spark.

"Unfortunately, I—"

"Oho, if we're speculating about who could become our next Lady Uchiha, then I suppose I must throw my daughter's hat into the ring, gentlemen." Wakaya suddenly chimed in. Madara stared incredulously at the man he had assumed was dozing off in the corner. When did he wake up? Why did he wake up?

The pack of them devolved into senseless chatter from there, each arguing the virtues of the women in the clan of marrying age who they felt were best suited to stand at his side. None of them were aware that he had already made his decision, or it would have been a very different kind of conversation.

"Actually," he spoke above the din, quieting them all down in an instant, "Isn't selecting from within the clan an outdated practice?" It would be one thing if they were more distantly related, but it wasn't so. They were a fairly sizable clan, yet no one could throw a stone without hitting someone they shared a common ancestor with as recently as less than three generations. It was a problem. Or eventually it could become one.

Predictably, the council looked stricken. "What…are you saying?" Maro's eyes widened, "That we thoughtlessly mix blood into our lines? That you don't intend to uphold the practice of selecting your bride from those available within the clan?" He sputtered, looking hot under the collar at the mere notion of the 'inconceivable' thought. "You are our leader, and out of all of us, should understand the importance of maintaining the lineage the best!"

"I can't say I'm wholly surprised," Fumihiro shook his head. "He annulled his own betrothement as soon as he was made clan head, did he not?"

"That," Madara pointed a finger vaguely, "Has nothing to do with this."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Yoshimasa murmured, having only just recovered from the shock.

"I've simply decided I'd like to include options from outside the clan." Madara supplied simply.

The council stared amongst themselves, murmuring lowly as if he wasn't in the same room. "Lord Madara, most respectfully I implore you to think of the repercussions." Rikiya pursed his lips as if he'd just smelled something sour. "The…there may be some benefit to that practice…in time. But on the whole, the risks far outweigh them. What would happen if your children could not obtain the Sharingan?"

"Half-Uchiha children," Maro gawked, "A half-Uchiha heir to the clan would be…unheard of."

Madara leaned further back in his seat, growing bored. "Oh yes, because it would be an affront to the tradition of inbreeding we hold in such high regard."

"Perhaps," Yaso spoke unsurely, "Lord Madara has his reasons? The heart is a funny thing. There's no telling where it might lead." If he could count on anyone for support in this, Madara was not surprised it would be him.

Maro frowned. "Yes, but…our traditions…"

"Can be taught as they've always been." Madara had become a master at only rolling one eye when he chose to, and it was always the one obscured by his hair. A small treat for himself, enduring these meetings without throwing a chair at the wall. "The selection of the next matriarch is something for me to decide myself. The council has never needed to give the clan head their blessings before. It's not a practice I can see starting now." He stood calmly, regarding them all with a tilt of his head. "If that's everything of importance, I believe we're done here."

Even with his back turned as he left the room, Madara could feel the flabbergasted gathering boring holes in it.

---

"Achoo!" The hand she was using to open the shop door jumped as she sneezed, and Sakura let it go, grateful she hadn't accidentally broken it. That was an unusually strong one.

Ino turned to her in mild concern, "You okay?"

Sakura nodded, stepping into the establishment with Ino hot on her heels. "Yeah, I think something just got in my nose." she sniffled.

After last night, her friend had decided they needed to do something relatively stress-free as a pick up. Her solution? Visiting the village nursery's greenhouse. Part of Sakura thought that the trip was more for Ino than herself, but she didn't exactly hate plants and flowers, so she was willing to humor her friend.

"Maybe someone's thinking of you." Ino wiggled her eyebrows.

Sakura laughed a little. "That's just some old wives' tale." Her eyes swept the shelves as she wandered after Ino. There was a lot more in stock than there had been when she had visited the year before in search of a birthday gift for Hashirama. Had that much time really passed? "It's been a while since I've stepped in here…I don't remember the nursery out back either."

"We've expanded!" If she hadn't been a shinobi, the kindly older woman who popped out of nowhere from behind the shelf may have startled her. "Opening up shop here has been the best thing we could have done." she smiled, "Business has been excellent."

"Hi," Ino waved, pushing Sakura aside. "Remember me? I was here window shopping the other day."

"Yes, yes of course I do, dear." The shop owner chuckled. "I remember both of you, actually."

"Me too?" Sakura pointed to herself in bewilderment. "But I…I haven't been here in months."

"Yes, but I don't forget a face," she hummed. "And your pretty hair is quite attention-catching. Not to mention you left with our prettiest cherry blossom bonsai!"

Sakura herself had an excellent memory, but it wasn't often she encountered someone else who shared it. Impressive. "Thank you for that, by the way. It went over great."

"Glad to hear it, dear." The woman beamed proudly, "Feel free to check out our expanded inventory, and see if there's anything you like. Peruse the greenhouse. My husband's there now; feel free to ask him any questions you might have while you're looking."

"Will do!" Ino winked, dragging Sakura away by the arm. "So you've been here before, eh?" She leaned in with a sly whisper, "Who exactly was the gift for?"

"The Hokage, if you must know." Sakura tugged her arm away. "Stop pulling me, I can walk fine."

That stopped Ino in her tracks, and Sakura knew right away she had made a mistake. Now the blonde would proceed to be a dog with a bone. "Uh-huh…" she nodded slowly, "And that was because…?"

"It was his birthday." Sakura slid open the glass door of the greenhouse, briefly considering shutting it in Ino's face. "I was invited. It felt rude to show up empty handed."

"You went to the man's birthday?" Ino hissed, incredulous, "And you gave him a cherry blossom bonsai? Why that?"

"Why not?" Sakura was growing slightly exasperated with the rapid fire line of questions. It was months ago now. What was the issue? "He liked it, and that's all that matters."

"The cherry blossom bonsai symbolizes," Ino stopped and thought while Sakura admired some hydrangeas. "Mortality, mindfulness, and appreciation for the present. It can also be a symbol of female dominance," she muttered, "and strength and beauty."

"Mhm…" Sakura touched the delicate leaf from a healthily growing tsubaki shrub. It had no fragrance, even from so close. Not that she had expected it to, seeing as how the flowers were infamously scentless. Some part of her had always sympathized with them. They came in a vibrant variety of colors much like many other flowers, but because of their lack of smell, they were often overlooked by garden enthusiasts, or so Ino's mother had once told them.

"You're not even listening," Ino complained.

"I feel like I've heard it all before." Sakura replied absently, moving on to the next flowers on display. This time they were roses, both in the classic red and less seen white. "It's not as big a deal as you're making it. It was just a polite gesture."

Nothing had been as big a deal back then… Simpler times, in a way. She was just becoming acclimated to the village, had her mission firmly in mind, and cordial but respectable relationships with some of Konoha's inhabitants. Although, even back then she had been growing closer to Toka and Reira, and then Yurine and Susumu and Izuna and— Okay, so perhaps even then, Sakura had slowly been forming strong bonds with others without even realizing it, but as far as the Founders went, it was easier.

Tobirama all but hated her. She hated Madara. Hashirama was amicable but ultimately just the village leader, and Izuna was someone she could have friendly conversation with, but did not send her heart soaring yet. When did it all start to change, becoming the complicated mess it was now?

"Okay but—" Sakura stopped her aimless wandering, and Ino bumped into her from behind. "Any reason why you…oh."

There was a middle-aged man in an apron, showing a pot of springy white flowers to none other than Mito Uzumaki and a blonde woman hovering next to her.

"This is the fringed iris," They heard him explaining. "Very popular as a houseplant."

"We don't have these on Uzushio," Mito remarked, taking the pot from him to inspect closer.

"Shall we purchase some, Lady Mito?" The other woman suggested, "They'd look lovely in the drawing room."

"Lady Mito?" Ino whispered, peering over Sakura's shoulder. "And she mentioned Uzushio. They must be who Naruto traveled here with."

"They're visiting," Sakura confirmed, feeling anxious for no particular reason. Her first encounter with Mito hadn't been bad, just unexpected. Now she stood off to the side watching her as she went about her business. It felt awkward and rude.

"Yes," Mito confirmed. "I'd also like to buy some blooms to plant in the gardens before we leave. Something with a strong positive meaning, perhaps?"

"In that case," Ino was already stepping forward before the shopkeeper could even think to respond. "May I make a suggestion for cornflowers? They symbolize blessings."

Sakura blinked. Her friend had rattled that off almost immediately, even though this wasn't Yamanaka Flowers. Then again, after all those years minding the shop, Ino had probably developed an instinctual sense of customer service that was hard to suppress. She just wished it hadn't brought attention to them.

"Oh, are you knowledgeable about flower language?" asked the blonde woman.

"I know my way around flowers and their themes, sure." Though the words were humble enough, anyone could identify the pride and confidence in Ino's voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep though."

"Not at all." The older man chuckled. "You seem to be speaking truthfully. You came up with that answer much faster than I could."

"Then" the woman gasped, "Would you happen to have more recommendations?"

Ino glanced at Sakura, and she shrugged, having no reason to object. "I'd personally pair the cornflower with the daisy if you're going to arrange them in a garden."

"That would be an excellent idea," The man stroked his chin. "I second it."

"I'm Namika," the blonde bowed as she introduced herself. "Thank you…"

"Ino." Ino smiled easily, in her element now that she was talking shop.

"I would love to ask you more questions, but that would be presumptuous. I'm sure you have better things to do with your day." Namika backed away, blue eyes apologetic.

"We're just killing time," Ino waved the notion off. "Actually, Sakura, if it's okay with you I'll show Namika here what I'm taking about."

"Fine by me," Sakura said, "It's not like I can stop you if I wanted to."

"Oh, Lady Mito, would that be alright with you? Would you like to join us?" Namika's eagerness was clear on her face, a puppyish quality to it.

"Please, go on and enjoy yourself. I'll catch up soon. I'd like to speak to Sakura-san, since this is the second time in as many days that we've run into each other."

"O-Oh," For a brief moment, the attendant looked disappointed. She quickly straightened with a nod, promising to return soon as she followed Ino deeper into the greenhouse. Pieces of their conversation drifting to Sakura's ears even as they got farther away. Mostly Ino rattling off flower meanings and garden layout possibilities while Namika marveled at the depth of her knowledge.

Seeing that he was no longer needed, the shopkeeper told them he would be heading back into the shop, but was one call away if they needed him.

Left alone with Mito, Sakura found herself staring right into an extremely penetrating gaze. The redhead looked as poised as she had yesterday, her hairstyle and seals the same as before, and her clothes pressed without a crease out of place. She was dressed in white, her collar green and her sleeves long. It would have been too ceremonial to wear outside an important occasion on anyone else, but Mito's natural elegance made her style well-suited to her regardless. "I apologize if we've disrupted your plans."

"It's alright," Sakura reassured, "Ino loves talking plants. It's a hobby she's very passionate about. I'm sure she appreciates having a captive audience."

"I would use the word captivated," Mito gazed off in the direction they had gone. "Namika gardens often at home. She enjoys showing me what she's done when she's finished. I can tell she is delighted to have someone who shares her interest."

"Then they sound like a good match."

"Indeed," Mito held the pot containing the fringed irises up so they were plainly visible. "But tell me, Sakura-san, do you think these are powerful enough to keep roaming evils at bay?"

The pinkette wasn't entirely sure she had heard correctly at first, her mouth parted as she stared. There were thousands of thoughts flying through her mind. Mito couldn't possibly know—

"I…I'm not sure I understand."

"It's a superstition we have on Uzushio." she explained calmly, "Part of why Namika works so diligently tending to our gardens is because its said that an unkept one will attract evil spirits who settle in among the weeds. She works hard to make sure it stays beautiful, and only wants flowers that have positive symbolisms. Beauty banishes the ugly, just as love banishes hatred."

Of course, there was precious little taught about Uzushian culture, in spite of what close allies they had been to the village in the past. Sakura couldn't deny that hearing such a fascinating piece of their culture had her wanting to know more.

"Really?" The pinkette mused, "That's something I'll have to keep in mind."

"Please do," Mito's eyes suddenly grew stormy with concern. "The road ahead may be full of unseen dangers hoping to latch onto you. Take care to avoid them dimming your radiance."

The last thing she had expected was for their lighthearted chat to turn so cryptic, and with everything else going on, it had Sakura reeling. "W-What?" she sputtered.

"I have a strong sense for discerning someone's character from their chakra alone." Mito looked her up and down, though the troubled expression didn't leave her face. "Yours is…unique. I was impressed by Naruto-kun's, but if I had to compare yours to anything, I'd say it feels almost…divine."

Sakura gulped. Mito Uzumaki certainly was proving interesting, and formidably aware, no matter what her slight eccentricism might have suggested.

"Almost." Mito reiterated, a half-smile falling on her lips. "There's nothing to suggest you aren't human." Too much of Sakura's wariness must have shown on her face. "…What's wrong? Your face has gone so pale. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. I have a tendency to do that unintentionally at times."

"I…no…it's…" Sakura's hands flailed as she struggled to respond. "What I'm trying to say is, I've been told much stranger things recently, so you didn't offend me. I was just…caught off guard. No one's ever told me that about my chakra before."

The other kunoichi's amethyst eyes widened. "Has no one bothered to grant you the kindness of pointing it out?" She mumbled, almost to herself. "In my homeland, it's said people with unusual auras attract bizarre destinies.

Another fascinating tidbit of information Sakura would have to mentally file away for when she was in a less frazzled headspace. "Well, you're telling me now, so that's something."

Mito's worry softened into relief, "I'm glad you're taking it well. Most people outside of Namika and my close family aren't sure what to make of the things I say."

"Like I said, I've heard much stranger." A slight lie. Sakura had heard comparatively strange things. Mito's idea of small talk was still bordering on abnormal, but since it seemed to be a point of insecurity for her, it was likely best not to mention it.

"Sakura!" She jumped at the sound of her own name, Ino came racing over with Namika right behind her, excitedly holding a small packet of…seeds? "Can you believe they have these here? I thought the plants I saw the other day were rare, but these haven't been grown anywhere in almost fifty years and they're just…sitting around collecting dust." She began babbling so much, it was a wonder if she remembered to come up for breath.

Namika had sidled closer to Mito, catching her up to speed on all the knowledge she had gleaned from Ino in their short time together.

"We should be going." Mito finally announced, "Ojiīsama wants the entire family to meet this afternoon."

"You're right!" Namika gasped, looking appalled. "I'm sorry! If you hadn't said something, we might have been late and it would be all my fault. You were too kind to indulge me to begin with, and I was so careless! Please forg—"

Mito pressed her hands into Namika's shoulders to steady her, after handing her attendant the flower pot. "Namika, please. None of that. But we should depart." She bowed to them, and Sakura felt the urge to respond in kind. "It was my pleasure to chat with you, Sakura-san, and thank you for showing Namika such kindness, Ino-san."

"They're pretty interesting." Ino remarked after they had left. "The Uzumaki are important allies to early Konoha, right? And I was thinking, them being here and the Hokage being unattached has to mean something…" Sakura would recognize that gleam in her eyes anywhere. "You don't think…"

"I think we've spent long enough in here," Sakura cut her off. "I mean, we can't spend all day looking at flowers either, you know."

"Fine," Ino crossed her arms, strolling to the exit, deep in thought. "I know I shouldn't but resisting buying these seeds is hard."

Sakura placed a hand over her racing heart, glad that her friend was oblivious to the way her heart had suddenly began to gallop in a panic. 'What…was that?' she thought. 'Ino's just being nosy. That's nothing unusual. Definitely not something to get worked up over.'

---

There shouldn't have been a storm cloud hanging over his head, but there was. So far, the Uzumaki clan's visit had been going fairly smoothly. Ashina was hard to read, but Hashirama was at least sure nothing had offended him yet. The other Uzumaki appeared to be following their leader and reserving judgment on him and the village until the trip was done. All he had to do was keep being the calm and affable Hokage. There was no need for them to get wind that he was anything but composed on the inside.

Which was why it was fortunate none of the Uzumaki wanted to be chaperoned around today. Lady Mito had gone off with her attendant after he had given her a village tour the day before. Lady Orino and Lord Ashina were otherwise indisposed and he hadn't seen them since he had shared a polite but quiet breakfast with the Uzumaki. He wasn't sure where Lord Ashina's other two grandchildren were. Kameyo and Ayumu, he remembered. Maybe they had gone wandering around too, probably too bored to stay indoors all day. Not that he blamed them.

Quite the opposite. Hashirama was thankful it gave him the opportunity to visit the Senju compound and pop up unannounced on the one person he knew would always offer him a level-headed—slightly detached—perspective. Tobirama wasn't exactly overly enthused to be interrupted while he was having alone time in his study—which used to be Hashirama's bedroom in the compound, as he had reminded his younger brother—but he hadn't kicked him out.

Though, it was evident after about ten minutes of Tobirama ignoring him in favor of fiddling with a strange kunai that Hashirama knew he would have to guide him a bit.

---

Tobirama carefully affixed the new and improved elemental tag, inspecting the seal work and then nodding to himself. Yes, these were an improvement to the ones he had made last year. Stronger. His initial batch were effective, but at best getting hit with one of his lightning kunai would have stunned a full grown entity for a period of about two minutes. These? Well, getting hit with these would do a little more than sting. If he had the formula right, they should be able to stop the heart of a rampaging bull amped on adrenaline. More than enough to deal with even the hardiest enemy nin.

The next time he saw Sakura, he would have to tell her he'd perfected the release. If anyone would appreciate the breakthrough as much as he did, it would be her—

He didn't mean to, but Tobirama couldn't help but twitch. With his older brother in the corner, looking like an unwanted stray sulking in the corner, it was hard to be alone with his thoughts. Hashirama sat balled up on the futon he kept in the study in case he wanted to rest without going back to his bedroom on the long nights of research. Clearly, something was wrong. And clearly, he wanted attention.

As if to prove his point, Hashirama collapsed dramatically back against the futon, a long, forlorn sigh leaving his lips. Tobirama didn't bother asking what was wrong. Partially because he didn't particularly care to know. If the matter was serious he probably would have been behaving differently from the beginning. But the younger Senju's indifference was also partly because his brother couldn't help himself—he was going to tell him anyway. "Tobi…I think….I think my life is in shambles lately."

Tobirama considered how somber his anija sounded, how defeated. He sat up and turned his head, but didn't stop tinkering with the second kunai. This one he aimed to give a fire affinity to. "Take comfort in knowing that something that was never properly assembled can't fall apart."

"I…I saw Sakura-chan yesterday while I was with Lady Mito."

Tobirama paused, considering perhaps this was more serious than he had originally suspected. Carefully setting down the kunai, he regarded his brother in appraisal. His eyes were on the room's ceiling, a frown on his face. His clothes were a little rumpled. He looked pensive and restless, two things that didn't suit Hashirama well.

"I take it you spoke. You seemed adamant on creating distance before, but now…a return to honorifics? That has to mean something."

"I don't know what it means," Hashirama admitted tiredly. "Is it me, making things harder than they have to be?" he wondered. "I admit that treating her in a withdrawn manner was hasty, and from her perspective, possibly hurtful."

"Yes, from her perspective," Tobirama caught himself rolling his eyes. Undoubtedly, knowing Sakura as he did, that wasn't wrong. But it wasn't as if she were the only one. Hashirama had been drawn to her like metal filings to a magnet, especially recently. His brother was someone who attached strongly with the people he valued.

To break such an attachment was not easy for him. It was almost impossible, really. All the years of battling Madara, and Hashirama had refused to give up on the notion that if they had been friends once they could become friends again.

Everyone, including Madara himself, had to have known who would truly emerge victorious in battle if Hashirama ever once decided to end things between them once and for all. But this was his anija he was thinking about. A shinobi born with a little too much heart for the era they grew up in, who had somehow turned that into a strength to connect people.

"What would you like me to say?" Hashirama grumbled, "That I was wrong? I know that. I just didn't know how to approach the inevitable. I…" he put his hands over his face and groaned. "I panicked."

"Obviously." Tobirama wasn't above rubbing salt in the wound.

"Logic dictates that because of her circumstances, she doesn't belong here, but…but my heart says otherwise." Tobirama hated to admit he could fully sympathize in this instance, but he could. All his life he had been a logical thinker first and foremost, but things had been changing since Sakura came along.

There was a little more gray in his rationality than there used to be, and he didn't resent that as he once might have. It also made easier to understand that letting a good friend go and understanding they would never return was hard to swallow for Hashirama. He himself had never had a friendship quite like the one he shared with Sakura.

"It's selfish," Hashirama lamented. "I'm not thinking like a leader who wants the best for everyone. I've just been thinking like a man."

"Is that not what you are?" Tobirama challenged, "For all your feats, you're only mortal, Hashirama."

"I know that," he climbed to his knees, grinding his teeth as he stared at the futon. "But our enemies going forward may not be. And securing a solid position of favor with the Uzumaki should have all of my attention right now. I have—"

"A duty." Tobirama finished. "Yes, you've only said as much a dozen times lately." He tilted his head in thought, "But you know, I wonder if it's not possible to consider that duty and what it means from another angle. You of anyone should understand that not everything is black and white. There's plenty of room for shades of gray."

Hashirama was clearly bemused. "What does that—"

"Anija, why not do what you used to do? Take a walk in the forest, commune with the trees."

He could all but see the light that came on above his brother's head at the suggestion. At one time, it wasn't uncommon for Hashirama to wander off into the forest, much to their father's ire. Their mother had far more patience about it, saying over and over again that the Senju were the children of the forest, Hashirama most of all. For him to seek out the company of the trees was only natural, according to her.

Regardless of how anyone felt about it, whenever his heart or mind were troubled, Hashirama would drift into the forest, as if under a trance. There, Tobirama imagined, he found tranquility. Sometimes answers. He'd come back babbling about how things were clearer afterwards, Tobirama likening it to how at peace he felt around water.

It had been a fair bit of time since Hashirama had gone out by himself to breathe in the fresh air of the woods though.

"You're right," he sat up, his hair messy with flyaways and his face slightly flushed. "Why sit inside ruminating all day, when I can enjoy the spring sunshine, get some fresh air, and gather my thoughts all at once?" He let out a hearty laugh, one Tobirama was glad to hear, although he'd never admit it. At least that meant he was perking up.

"Don't act like you came up with the idea. Just go." Hashirama shrunk under the force of his pointed glare, scrambling off the futon and crawling backwards as Tobirama advanced.

"I don't understand why you're suddenly being so forceful, I—"

"I'm the younger brother and know what's best in this situation."

Hashirama stood, backing out the door after reaching back to slide it open. He held his hands up in surrender. "I…don't think that's how it normally goes. The eldest is the one who—"

"I don't care." Tobirama shoved him back firmly so he was standing in the hallway, "Grow mushrooms in the forest, not my study."

Stubborn, Hashirama gripped the edge of the paper door, attempting to get a word in. "It was my room!"

Tobirama ripped the door from his brother's grip, beginning to slide it home. "I don't care about that either." As Hashirama's pouting face slowly disappeared, a few final words of wisdom came to mind. He could grant his anija that much; he wasn't that cruel.

"Oh, and anija?"

"Y-Yes?" The way Hashirama looked, it was like he thought Tobirama would change his mind. Did he know him at all?

"Go change."

Perplexed, the older Senju stared down at his clothes, pulling at them self-consciously. "What's wrong with what I have on? I didn't spill tea on myself."

"No." Tobirama gave him a pitying look. "I don't mean what you're wearing."

The door snapped shut before Hashirama could ask for clarification.

Peace and quiet at last…

---

The scene was a grim one, a table overturned, less fortunate furniture outright destroyed. The room had been destroyed, its occupants both face down, atop an expanding pool of blood. It splattered the wood floors and stained the life they had built in this house.

The shadow of death fell heavily here, mingled with his until he couldn't tell one from the other. Stepping through the door hardly hanging from its hinges, dark eyes surveyed the room through his mask. There was one more thing of importance left here, something he had to find.

The air was stale and still. They had been dead for some time, probably days if the smell was an indication. The house should have been completely still, and it was, save for the barely audible shuffle, a fraction of a peep coming from one of the cabinets. Carefully maneuvering around the fallen bodies, keeping his cloak from the soiled floor, he stared long and hard at the cabinet he was crouched in front of, as if that would allow him to examine its contents.

Peeling it open revealed exactly what he had expected to find, a little body curled in on itself, a hiccup of fear muffled into hugged knees. "So you hid."

The sandy brown head flew up, shy red-rimmed eyes staring fearfully up at him, before disappearing again. "N-No," the tinny voice squeaked. "N-no…"

Sighing, a strange mixture of guilt and pity settled in his chest, and he slid his mask up, allowing her to see his face. "Hey," he called quietly. "I'm here to help you. You can't stay here all alone."

The dull eyes met his, startled as they took in his appearance. "B-But…"

"You did good to survive on your own this long, but I'm sure you realize it, don't you? They're gone." Sniffling, the small girl slowly shuffled onto her knees, trying to peer around his larger body to no avail. "No, you don't have to look again." He consoled, but to his surprise, she shook her head.

The declaration was quiet, but brave, "I want to say goodbye…"

So he granted her request, moving aside as she climbed from the cabinet. Fidgeting, she stared at the two people who had been her parents, lips quivering as she fought the urge to turn away. Heart filling with sympathy for her, he offered up a hand, and she accepted it. No child should have to witness this.

"Bye-bye," she whispered, holding tight to his hand.

"Are you ready to go?"

Although she hesitated, eventually the child nodded in assent. "Then let's go, Hina."

She didn't question the usage of her name, obediently walking along at his side, hand still in his. They exited the house together, stepping out into the sunlight. Hina squinted against the bright rays, blinking rapidly and trying to shield her eyes.

The smell of the sea filled his nose, the forest the little house resided in being located right off the coast. It must have been so peaceful and tranquil, a place he wouldn't mind coming back to.

"That must hurt." It wasn't until he drew attention to the deep, dark stain on her clothing that she looked down, radiating sorrow as she did so.

"It did, then I felt cold."

"Then let's go somewhere you'll never feel that kind of coldness again."

The ground split open, the way it always did, red and black pulsing up from the dark crack. Hina gasped, backing away. "It's alright. It's worse than it looks, but the drop takes your breath away, so be careful."

"D-Don't," she whimpered, and he feared she would refuse. "Don't let go?" she pleaded instead, causing his hand to squeeze hers once in comfort.

"I'm right here."

They fell together, leapt really. Hina cried out, and he held her in his arms through the worst of it. Then, the feeling of the world tumbling over itself subsided, leaving them to gently float down the rest of the way. His feet landed on solid bricked yellow ground, nothing like the abysmal sight the place used to be. Hina kept her face buried in his shoulder and her little arms around his neck, until he patted her back, beckoning her to look around.

He must have elicited enough trust for her to listen, and he could feel a sense of pleasant surprise as she took in the bright colors, the people of all ages walking around, the large, majestic houses fit for a noble.

"Welcome home, Hina."

Setting her down, she quickly clung to his hand again, and they began the long walk through the residential district, people who had grown use to seeing him come and go waving at him, the girl, or both of them. Overcoming some of her shyness, she began to wave back, a bounce in her step after the first stretch. Children often were more resilient than they were given credit for, able to maintain innocence even after experiencing some of the more gruesome horrors of life.

"Do I really get to live here now, nii-tan?"

"Yes," His heart warmed as he watched her come out of her shell a little. This was the sweet little girl she was likely meant to be. "And that's not all."

Admittedly, he probably could have brought her into the towering castle-like building with a little more ceremony. But he was too used to breezing right in, much to the annoyance of the master.

He got plenty of pointed stares as he walking Hina through the gates and up the stairs, and even more once he'd entered the very private space of the one and only ruler of the underworld.

Yama had his hands full, consoling two fretful adults Hina recognized immediately. For the first time since she latched on, she was all too eager to let go, running right for them with a happy cry. They gasped, accepting her with open arms and crying as they held her close.

It felt almost too intimate to witness, so Sanna stood back and allowed himself to blend into the shadows, something he was well-practiced at.

Blinking back her never-ending tears, the woman sniffled and granted him a watery smile after she had finished pressing kisses to her daughter's forehead. She was radiant when her skin wasn't ashen and her face wasn't frozen in horror and smeared in blood. The innocent victims of a bandit attack, the family had been robbed, then killed. Although, they had another chance waiting for them in Yomi, a land reborn into what it currently was, and not the dismal, lonely place it had been since time began. Yama had taken quite a few of his recommendations under advisement, something some of his oldest shinigami and other attendants weren't too pleased with. Their king and ruler, taking the words of a mortal godslayer seriously?

Still, ironically giving the underworld a touch of life had good results.

"Thank you," the woman told the Uchiha, "We could have never settled in here knowing our baby was stuck, alone and scared by herself."

Sanna nodded shallowly, unable to voice his acceptance of the gratitude. No one should ever be thanking him for anything, with everything he had seen and done. "It was the right thing for everyone." Sometimes, instead of being guided to the underworld as they should, spirits became stranded on the moral plane, bound by things like regret or bitterness that they couldn't let go of. A shinigami could drag a soul to Yomi kicking and screaming, but if they hadn't parted with their old life on earth, they became insufferable, sometimes even corrupted beyond saving. Little Hina likely hadn't meant to strand herself apart from her parents, but being such a young child, having died so abruptly, she grew confused and frightened, unable to process what had truly happened. Unaware that she was dead.

When he had overhead a shinigami complaining he would have to go and fetch a child's spirit from earth, he had cut in rather rudely to say he would do it. Though the shinigami scowled, Yama allowed it, and so he went.

"Come," a dignified shinigami swept in, looking Sanna over as if he were the lowest and dirtiest of vagrants, then ushering the family of three with a warmer smile. Rishi.

She hated him, but she took great pride in being a top-ranking shinigami in service to the esteemed Lord Yama. Then again, it was quite literally her life's purpose.

The willowy agent of death could have passed for a human empress in her shimmering midnight blue kimono and thin golden headpiece. Her long, oaken hair was generally parted down the middle and tied in two wide buns below her ears.

Hina gave him the biggest smile as she passed by, flinging herself at him in a hug before rejoining her parents and Rishi, able to rest eternally at last.

Feeling Yama's fiery gaze studying him, Sanna turned expectantly. "What?"

Two of his arms lifted in a mild shrug, "You handle the young ones well, though given your background that's no surprise." he said casually. "Though…you're really set on wearing that mask I see."

Sanna pulled the porcelain mask off his head, staring hard at the empty eyeholes. His time as Cat had ended, but he still felt the need to carry a piece of that old identity around. He could have scoffed at himself. It was just another indication of his true cowardly nature, needing something to hide behind after all he'd done.

"Let me know when you have a serious mission for me, and I'll get right on it."

"I'm sure you will." The God of Death clasped two of his hands atop his desk, a third cradling his cheek and the fourth patting the broad head of the groggy buffalo that had woken up from its nap on its velvet bed and come stumbling over to his master for petting. "I had my reservations about your appointment as my godslayer, but you've taken to the role better than I could have ever imagined. Almost too well, in retrospect."

"I need to atone." Sanna murmured, staring at the way the big black buffalo's tongue lolled out like a dog. The thing might as well have been one for how needy it was. "This is the way."

"Yes, well, about that…"

A long, elaborate knock filled the office, and Sanna knew immediately who it was. Only one person in the whole underworld could make knocking on a door sound that high-handed.

"Yes, enter," Yama beckoned, the doors to his office chambers swinging open to reveal exactly who Sanna had expected. Sort of.

"Lord Yama," bowed Ankan, "You have visitors in the forms of the twin godslayers."

Sanna watched him step aside, Koya swaggering in like he owned the place, and Kamin silently padding in after.

"Hey Sanna, it's been a while." Koya greeted, grinning broadly.

"Time passes differently down here, but even then, I know you're exaggerating." He moved closer to his brothers, and the three of them embraced.

"He's telling the truth…this time." Kamin turned away, scratching at his cheek. "You've been so busy…"

"Yeah, and I told him you might've been avoiding us." Koya stepped back, closing one eye and wagging a finger playfully, "You know how you get. All reclusive and broody. Right, Kamin?"

His twin nodded in wordless agreement.

"Ahem," Ankan cleared his throat, looking at all three of them sourly. "I would thank you to remember you are all in the presence of the honorable and most exalted Lord Yama, God of Death and King of Souls. You should have more res—"

"It's quite alright, Ankan." Yama interrupted. Sanna imagined from time to time, even he grew tired of all the ceremony of everyone genuflecting in his presence. He had been dealing with it for what, countless millennia?

Ankan, being one of Yama's two chief attendants, had quite a high opinion of himself, and a low one of almost everyone else. He helped make sure things in Yomi ran smoothly, that everyone was doing their jobs, that souls were where they needed to be, and that nothing disturbed Lord Yama needlessly.

He had especially doubled down on that endeavor after the entire debacle with Erika, bemoaning how Yama having to leave to take care of matters not concerning the underworld was both a waste of his precious time—which made little sense to Sanna, seeing as a god's time was infinite—and an insult. But, messes were made to be cleaned up, and Erika had made a mess. Sanna suspected if she weren't already 'dead', Ankan would have finished her himself, he was that livid.

And, like Rishi, he had never been too fond of Yama taking in mortals under his wing. Unlike Rishi, who regarded him with cold disdain, Ankan voiced his feelings quite vocally when the mood struck him. Which it did often. It was almost like the pompous attendant thought he was going to be replaced. As if Sanna wanted that paperwork.

Ankan straightened, his facial expression indicating he wasn't happy about being interrupted when he was just winding up, but he'd never go against Yama in anyway.

"It's nice to see you both." Yama addressed his brothers, standing to his towering height. "Has it been going well?"

"You could say that…" Koya didn't take long to adopt a casual stance, arms folded behind his head, while Kamin remained tall and straight with his hands behind his back, "We've got a surprising amount of freedom, considering the circumstances, so can't complain."

Sanna was relieved to hear it. He had argued fiercely for that. As it turned out, Koya and Kamin weren't as well-suited to the unique needs of being Yama's godslayer. They had tried to keep up, adapt to life in Yomi. But it wasn't meant to be. The bond to Yama fit like a glove for Sanna, whereas the twins experienced problems that only occurred when someone was ill-suited to the god they were matched with.

That being the case, Sanna refused for them to die again. It was selfish, but he needed his brothers with him, at least in some capacity. Arguing his point stubbornly, Yama had eventually located two gods willing to take on godslayers who didn't ask many questions about why he wanted to arrange such a thing.

Most deities thought too highly of themselves to obey a human just because, but the God of Death had tempered his sense of fairness after so long overseeing the fates of the dead.

One didn't do a job like that without learning how to be impartial and reasonable with critical decisions. It also helped that Yama still felt he owed them for the fact that their souls had been disturbed from eternal slumber and dragged into the feud of gods that had nothing to do with them. Sanna was more than happy to leverage that; he was an Uchiha, after all.

"I see," Yama raised a hand to halt his buffalo as it tried to follow him. "I assume you came here with news for me."

Koya's eyes disappeared as he grinned. "A letter, yep."

Kamin was the one who produced it from his satchel, likely because he was the twin who would treat something important with the most care.

Yama took the message and unfurled the scroll, stopping to take in its length as the bottom of the paper hit the floor. Considering the God of Death was a mountain, that was saying something.

"Hmm…this may take me a while to read and respond to." The deity considered. "I take it you'd like to return to the surface with my reply?"

"Ideally, yeah." Koya shrugged. "No point in making multiple trips." He knocked Sanna's shoulder with a fist. "Not that we mind coming to see our big brother."

"Then give me some time, and feel free to make yourselves at home here for a while. I'll summon you when my response is ready." He was already taking the message back to his desk so he could read it sitting down. Given how thorough the god always was, it didn't surprise him.

"I think we're being dismissed." Kamin remarked. Yama didn't hear them. He didn't even look up to respond, deep into his reading.

As if to illustrate how correct he was, Ankan opened Yama's office doors and gestured towards them grandly.

Sanna let the march out, seeing Ankan fume to himself as Koya gave one of his trademark lopsided grins. The attendant hated any sort of familiarity from those he deemed beneath him. And, although he deferred to Yama, his boss, in all things, he was a minor deity himself. Though, one who existed to uphold the infrastructure of the underworld in the same role he had served since time was young.

The doors slammed shut behind them, and Koya snickered. "That guy's too fun to rile up."

"Careful Koya," Kamin warned as the brothers walked down the grand stone stairs of Yama's castle, "You know what happens when you provoke those in positions of power."

"Yeah, yeah…" he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Try to live a little, brother of mine."

"It is nice to see you both in high spirits." Sanna commented, walking in between the two. They crossed the arched golden bridge across what used to be the Stream of Souls, but when Yama had agreed to change the entire structure of how Yomi functioned, it became just a stream.

"And it's nice to see you at all," Koya sassed, shoving at his arm. "Seriously, were you avoiding us? Everytime we came here to visit, we got some line about you being away on a mission."

"No," Sanna insisted, "I've just been busy."

"Uh-huuh." Needless to say his younger brother was far from convinced. "Anyway…how's it going? Tell us what it's like to be the worthy one who didn't wash out of training."

"You didn't wash out," Sanna grumbled flatly, "You just started training under deities who suited you better. And it's been fine. Like I said, just busy."

"Have you been to see tousan and kaasan?" Kamin inquired softly, acting as if the subject would make him crack like a piece of glass. It wasn't that he hadn't considered it, but it was far more complicated than turning up on their doorstep. Here, Tajima and Nozomi Uchiha were alive and well (from what he knew) and they lived their days together in peace. He wanted to keep it that way.

He may not have been the son they lost in this timeline…reality? Whatever it may have been, but he was still their son. He had memories he was never supposed to see, thanks to Erika, but Yama had also allowed him to watch his own short, sad life and abrupt death at the hands of Tobirama.

He was just a boy when he was killed, as were Koya and Kamin when they died later. None of them had done any real living, and now they were thrust into all this, and he couldn't protect his brothers, but he certainly tried.

The ones he was able to see, that was. Having memories from two lifetimes made going to visit his living aniki and nii-san difficult to think about, although Yama had offered to allow it on more than one occasion.

They knew a small child who was long gone, and that was not who Sanna was anymore, or would ever be again. The issue was…he didn't know who he was. Just who he wasn't. He wanted to try changing that first and foremost.

"No," Sanna admitted. "There was no real time lately…" They were reentering the livelier area of Yomi, and the entire ambiance began to change around them. This was where the majority of the spirits lived and it was almost always active.

In many ways, it looked and ran not unlike a regular large city on earth. Deceased souls that had once been crystallized and locked into an eternal sleep now were given the choice—if they were judged to be souls worth enjoying the afterlife—to have another chance.

And, "surprisingly", most of the dead wanted to continue living in whatever way they could. So, Yomi became a city, and not just endlessly dank caverns with crystallized souls of every color hanging from the ceiling like stalactites.

In the realm of the dead, Yama reigned supreme over all, and it was a small matter to alter reality to reflect what these people may have been used to on earth. Until Sanna had come along and explained why it was worth doing, he hadn't seen the need.

"No real need you mean," Koya regarded him with a look that said he wasn't buying this either. "I know you, San. Well, I'd like to think I do. You're still deep in the whole atonement mindset, and you probably think you can't live again. But look around you, even the dead have cast their worries aside. If they can live, why can't you?"

"Because I'm the reason why some of them are here," he hissed, glowering in a way that made Koya's smile drop.

"Okay," Koya acquiesced, "Okay. Sorry. Just take a breath."

Realizing how worked up he had become so quickly, Sanna obeyed, breathing in and out very deeply until he felt calm again.

The brothers found themselves hanging around a mighty wishing tree near a quiet park. Families and small children were enjoying themselves, having picnics or strolling around without a care in the world. Up on the surface, it was spring, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. The underworld didn't have seasons, but Yama had done a decent job capturing the serenity of them with the way he had made different areas of Yomi reflect what they didn't truly have. "Did you hear what the gods have been talking about?" Kamin said conversationally, leaning against the tree with his arms folded. Koya sat at its base, Sanna standing awkwardly and studying them.

Neither had changed much physically, save for their clothes. Koya still kept his hair shorn short on one side and tousled to his shoulders on the other in the traditional Uchiha manner.

His red, sleeveless shirt bore the high collar their clan was known for, bandages tight around his waist, no matter how impractical they may have been.

His tall standard issue shinobi sandals rose to his calves, ending where the bottom of his black pants begin. The mesh sleeves from his wrists to his elbows were yet another design choice Sanna didn't quite understand.

Kamin, on the other hand, wore his clothes looser. The forest green attire had no high collar, only a comfortable neckline hidden by the ground-length shimmering golden scarf he insisted on wearing and tapering into an asymmetrical design that only kept his shirt closed because of the red obi secured at his waist.

His pants weren't tight on his legs, either. The legs were baggy, emphasized by his black tabi, which were tied firmly at his calves and at his ankles. Neither of the looks should have worked, but the upside to having been dead once was having the confidence to pull off anything.

Sanna asked, actually half curious. "No, what's the word?"

"You've got to spend some time on the surface a little more." Koya teased, leaning his head back against the tree's bark. "You remember that one godslayer, yeah? We fought her when we were still Kanayago's."

Sanna would never admit that pink-haired woman's radiantly glowing form descending from the sky was seared into his retinas, but it was. "What about her?"

"There've been talks of something big. The Heavens are getting tired of her getting the best of them I take it. They want to throw everything they've got at taking her down." Koya tutted, muttering something about what a waste of beauty it would be.

It was their own fault one human was besting them at every turn, Sanna thought. Either they weren't taking her seriously or they were just that incompetent. Both options were embarrassing.

"They're going to join forces against her next," Kamin finished. "At least that's what it seems."

"You know how she said she knows aniki and nii-san, right?" Koya asked rhetorically, "Do you think they'd be pulled into it?"

"It would depend on how closely they associate with her." Sanna had a lot of time to reflect since their last encounter with Mizuchi's godslayer. Without being linked to Kanayago's endless rage, which stoked his own, it was easier to be level-headed, maybe even marginally apathetic. At least with matters that did not concern him or his brothers. But this…this potentially did.

"She said the Uchiha and Senju live together in a village now, and she might live there too." Kamin reminded them. As much as he knew his younger brothers longed to see their older siblings, they hadn't gone yet. Sanna had told them it was fine if they wanted to, but the twins insisted that reintroducing themselves to Madara and Izuna should be something they did together, when they were all ready.

Sanna was lucky. Not everyone had such understanding brothers.

"Which means…they'd be caught in the crosshairs." Sanna concluded.

"She's a tough one, but one godslayer can only do so much against multiple gods." Koya tucked his hands into his pocket, his bottom lip poking out as he thought.

"What are you suggesting?" Sanna eyed him suspiciously, to which his younger brother smiled innocently.

"Nothing rash." Koya promised, "Let's just…keep an ear to the ground. Aniki and nii-san may think we're gone, but it doesn't mean we can't watch over them."

Kamin shifted his weight, "If they're in danger?"

"Then we interfere," Sanna said. It was really that simple. As Uchiha, they weren't going to sit back and let their brothers be hurt because the gods wanted to have a grudge match. "Immediately."

---

A wagasa is the Japanese term for the bamboo and paper parasols that were used by geisha and wealthy lords. You see them a lot in paintings of that time period, and period dramas, etc.

Kanmuri yakitori is a dish normally served grilled and skewered, with chicken comb/chicken crown as the main ingredient. It's a thick, tender cut of the meat and can be kind of rare, thus hard to find at street stalls and restaurants.

Sasami is another skewered chicken dish. It's a cut typically made from chicken breast. They're sometimes marinated in sake and can be topped with miso paste, shiso paste, umeboshi paste, and served with tare sauce on the side.

Mentsuyu is a flavorful Japanese sauce that is commonly used as a seasoning and condiment in many traditional Japanese dishes, or as the base for udon and soba noodles.

Pīman no nikuzume is a traditional Japanese kushiyaki dish. It consists of stuffed green peppers, and the list of ingredients for the filling includes ground pork, onions, eggs, and breadcrumbs. The peppers are sliced, stuffed, then grilled until well browned.

So, as of this chapter Sakura has made an important decision—staying in the past (for the time being). Team Seven and the others have grudgingly accepted it, but I would be careful about letting your guard down, dear readers.

Also I had two ways her encounter with Hashirama could go in my mind. This idea was used but ummm again, don't let your guard down. The angst is really only just beginning.

I want Mito to be kind of eccentric. She's not malicious but no one can really tell what she's thinking half the time, and that can be its own kind of unsettling. Also, just her mere presence is enough to rub salt in the wound if you're Sakura and you know how history's meant to go, while you're wrestling with this ache you have every time HashiMito interact.

In Japanese, a gloomy or depressed person is sometimes called "damp" (じめじめ, jimejime). Mushrooms grow in damp places, so the figure of speech is kind of a play on this when Tobirama says to grow mushrooms in the woods, not his study. Basically, go be depressed/depressing somewhere else. You also see this in anime sometimes with mushrooms sprouting out of someone's head if they're sulking in a corner somewhere.

The return of Sanna, and with it, another layer of potential conflict!

Yes, there's a lot to unpack here and going forward. Everyone also gets their first look at Yomi. It wasn't always, but now it's more of a city (you might picture the land of the dead in Coco here, though that wasn't necessarily the inspiration).

This chapter was a behemoth. I honestly don't know where I found the strength. Everyone should be satisfied for a long, long time, right? Anyway, looking forward to the screams in the comment section. Take care and be well.