Minato's reforms were not being taken very well.

The far stricter construction requirements were one thing, the increased funding for the orphanage another. The prison reform was far more controversial—a lot of people argued it was additional money being spent on people who hadn't earned it—and the added requirement for an understanding of first aid to become a genin was considered by many to be 'overkill' and 'unnecessary.'

The expansion of the city boundaries—both horizontally and vertically—were at least taken well alone, but given that would require the new, larger wall to be built first…

And then there was the requirement that every child in Konoha attend the Academy or other education institution for at least five years, beginning at the latest at age five.

Many civilians were furious about this, about how little the skills taught there mattered, about how much better things their children should be doing in a day—

But what infuriated the most people was the other educational change:

No genin under ten.

No chuunin under thirteen.

Anyone currently in violation was frozen in their positions, allowed to 'voluntarily' take time off or go back to the previous rank, and regardless excluded from leaving the village until they reached the appropriate age for their rank.

If Minato hadn't been so popular prior to being elected Sakura doubted he could have gotten away with it.

If Danzo's actions hadn't been exposed long before the Reforms then he definitely wouldn't have.

In sum: Konoha was in a bad mood.

And the bad mood had followed Sakura home.

"You have to stop her!" Himari snapped.

Sakura shut the door behind her, dumping her current journal on the kitchen table. "Stop who?"

"Kohana!"

"Listen, I've spent the past two hours sorting out logistics between us and the Suna end of the railroad, and—"

"She's moving!"

Ah.

Sakura… should have seen that coming, actually.

Inoichi had been railing for educational change for years, and now that he'd been given carte blanche in Uzu, it only made sense for him to be there to monitor his own designs.

"Is she moving to Uzu with Inoichi, then?"

"That's what she said! Sakura, she belongs here! Working in the nursery with me!"

And, of course, Himari couldn't follow.

Had to stick near the Hospital, and there wasn't nearly enough medical resources in Uzu to act as a substitute.

Sakura sighed. "Himari—"

The front door slammed.

Himari had done the math on Sakura's probable response.

"…Do I have to deal with that?" Fujio asked, coming down the stairs.

Sakura shrugged. "She's probably gone to yell at Kohana again. I'll try talking to her tomorrow. You hear from Juro?"

"No; haven't heard from anyone since I got home. Is it my turn to cook dinner or yours?"

"Yours, I think."

"That's what I thought."

Dinner was just being served when Juro and a sweat-plastered Ibiki entered.

"Nice days?" Fujio asked, snorting at their identical drawn-out faces.

"New medical technique—way to sharpen another's chakra blade to a finer and smaller point than anyone could individually. Exhausting to practice."

"Stupid Asuma talked back to Sensei, and I had to back him up or else he'd look like an idiot, and both of us got detention."

"The sweat?"

"Well, I had to fight him for giving me detention! Stupid Asuma won, though."

Sakura held back a snort.

Ibiki had the physique of a child who would be broad and muscular as an adult, but he wasn't an adult—he was still a month and a half away from eight. Additionally, he had no set style—he'd learned bits and pieces of various Ino-Shika-Cho styles, but all of them depended on bloodlines that he lacked.

Asuma, meanwhile, was an eight-year-old who'd already been training in his family's (crucially bloodline-free) taijutsu style since he was three.

When they were younger both of their tempers ensured that neither concentrated enough to actually manage an out-and-out win when they were brawling, but now that they were beginning to grow up some, think before they acted sometimes…

Ibiki was used to Asuma beating him in spars.

Beating him in scuffles was apparently a step too far.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," Ibiki grumbled. "He pinned me. Said his Dad had been teaching him pins."

Well, that they'd talked after was a good sign.

Juro had fallen asleep in his seat.

Sakura nudged him with her foot.

"What's a really good taijutsu style that can always beat the Sarutobi style?"

"I don't think there's any taijutsu style good enough to guarantee a victory."

"It's just not fair, you know, because he knows—"

Fujio frowned. "Have you thought of, like, mimicking Sakura's bloodline?"

"What?" Ibiki sat up, suddenly interested. Juro began to snore.

"Like, Sakura jumps in people's minds, right, to disorient them?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there's a reason that's considered the weakest of the Yamanaka bloodlines—it's easiest to emulate."

Sakura nodded in agreement. "Really, it's not much better than a genjutsu, except that it's harder to prevent—not that that matters when no worthwhile shinobi looks anyone visibly Yamanaka in the eye."

"Honestly, at this point, no one looks anyone Konoha in the eye." Fujio said. He'd finished serving everyone—even Juro, who didn't seem likely to wake up before dinner was over—and gestured a bit with the serving spoon. "There's us, the Hyuuga, the Uchiha… really, our village is full of eyes that enemies don't want to go anywhere near."

"But the Hyuuga don't effect enemies with their eyes directly."

"Well, yeah, but—"

Ibiki noisily cleared his throat. He didn't do a very good job of it—too little practice. Sakura had a sudden premonition that that was about to change. "We were talking about me using Yamanaka style… um."

"Eleven." Sakura supplied. She considered, then shrugged in agreement. "It's not a bad idea, really. You certainly don't look Yamanaka, and your chakra control's good enough that focusing on genjutsu is a viable route for combat training."

"Do you know lots of genjutsu?"

"No, not really, never been my focus… Fujio?"

Fujio shrugged, then shook his head, swallowing a bite as he did. "Never interested me much either, but then my combat skills are really terrible." His eyes cut to Sakura. "You've just been promoted, though. Supposed to make it to jounin within the year, right?"

Sakura sighed. "Scheduled for July. At least they're not expecting me to wow, but I am not looking forward to multiple rounds of combat with frontline fighters."

Fujio and Ibiki snorted in time with Juro's snore.

"I know Kurenai's interested in genjutsu." Ibiki said. "She got a book about it for her birthday, from an uncle or something. I'll ask her tomorrow."

After dinner Sakura made her way to the bathroom, performing her normal nighttime routine automatically while her conscious brain tried to figure out why she felt so…

Off.

She'd only just finished brushing her teeth, was staring into the mirror, when the answer came to her.

Sakura was twenty years old.

She had another twenty years of memory, give or take, from Arden—and maybe most were still unsorted, but they were definitely there, and their mere existence gave Sakura a huge leg up on understanding her world, its dangers, its opportunities.

Minato was about twenty years old.

Minato might very well also have twenty or so years of additional memory, but if he did Sakura had seen no sign of it.

Minato had just stopped everyone younger than ten from being genin, and everyone younger than thirteen from being allowed to have a role that didn't mandate built-in supervision.

He'd mandated stricter construction laws, too, said that even the three or four buildings a year that collapsed were far too much, especially given the casualties.

He'd increased orphanage funding, wanted every child to share their bedroom with no more than three others. He'd been interested when Sakura had put forward the idea of foster care, had her assign a team from Efficiency Sciences to write up a report.

He'd drastically changed the prison system, wanted the whole thing focused on reducing recidivism, bringing about a better future for those institutionalized and a safer future for the village at large.

He'd mandated first aid in the Academy, required that every single child know the symptoms of heat stroke, of dehydration, of hypothermia, know how to take care of themselves first.

He'd successfully—and shockingly painlessly—gotten the Daimyo to agree to allow Konoha to expand, to better accommodate a larger future population.

He'd actually literally required education, instead of just making it available as was the Fire standard.

He'd barely been in office long enough to get used to the weight of the hat on his head, and he'd already—

Sakura swallowed, realizing she was beginning to spiral. Beginning to panic.

She sat, hard and a little too fast, on the floor, and stared at the basin of the sink instead.

She began taking breaths like her therapist had taught her, began cycling slowly through each hand seal, allowing the experience to ground her.

She could hear Juro shuffling downstairs—he'd finally woken up shortly after Ibiki went to bed, was finishing up his own dinner now.

Ibiki was supposed to be asleep, but she could hear that he wasn't. From the sound of it he was practicing kata in his room, the steady thump of his feet hitting the wood a dead giveaway.

Fujio had left. Work, Sakura remembered. Something about… something. Maybe a report? The Hokage seemed to like reports. Was ordering loads of them.

Sakura took a deep breath, checking her breathing, then went to her bedroom.

So she hadn't…

Hadn't.

Yet.

She was twenty, and for all that she might have failed until now she still had time.

Still…

Again, Sakura's brain reminded her of all Minato had accomplished. Again, her chest began to cave in.

Perhaps, tonight, she'd just take another of her sleeping pills and be done with it.

.

Himari was poking her in the face.

Sakura knew it was Himari because no one else poked her in the face.

"Yes, Himari?"

"I have an idea."

Sakura forced her eyes open, blinking against the gunk that had accumulated overnight. The sleeping pills worked great, but they always left it hard to wake up, to get up.

A poking sister solved that issue, however.

Especially when she kept poking.

"What's your idea?" Sakura shoved Himari's hand away, swing her legs out of her (warm, soft comfortable) blankets and into the crisp winter air.

"I can go with!"

Sakura rubbed her face. 'Go with.' With who? Not Sakura, she wasn't going anywhere except work and a training ground to begin prepping for the Exam. Kohana, then. Right, Kohana was moving—hadn't actually announced it to Sakura yet, mind, but—

"You can't go." Sakura said. "You need to stay near the Hospital."

"No-no-no I don't!" Himari grinned, clearly very pleased with herself. "Kohana said the same thing, but then she said a lot of Ino-Shika-Cho were moving to Uzu, so then I asked who and she didn't know, so then I asked Inoichi, and he gave me a rough list, and then I went to everyone on that list who worked at the Hospital, and three of them said they could treat me if I get sick at Uzu!"

"How many people are going to Uzu?"

Himari's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't the important part, you know."

"Yeah, um. I mean, if Inoichi and Kohana give the okay, then… how many people are going to Uzu?"

"What does it matter? You'd know more if you weren't always at work, you know."

Probably true.

"Probably true." Sakura stood, finally, and hugged Himari. "Good job, Himari—that solution sounds like it'll work. Still, as you pointed out I am very out of the loop, so if you don't mind filling me in…"

"You can just take the list." Himari said. She shuffled for a minute, checking pockets (her winter coat had like ten of them, for reasons Sakura couldn't quite piece together) before handing Sakura the folded paper. "You think Kohana will agree, then?"

Sakura snorted. She and Kohana might have been very close as toddlers, but for years now Kohana and Himari had been a team in just about everything. Himari—and Sakura only found this out literal months later—even knew about Kohana and Inoichi's relationship when everyone else was kept in the dark.

And then she'd kept quiet and snickered about it, about all the shinobi completely clueless.

Which… fair.

"I'm sure Kohana would love to have you with her."

"Good!" Himari said, and then she was gone.

Sakura fought the urge to collapse back into bed.

.

After work—which passed in the usual blur of paperwork and power struggles, but at least Sakura was starting to feel like she was adjusting—came training.

Sakura had never wanted to be a frontline ninja.

Sakura didn't like pain.

If Sakura didn't get much, much better, very, very quickly, then she was in for a lot of pain indeed.

Still, she wasn't exactly starting from zero.

"Just… give me a minute, okay?" Ayame said, staring straight ahead at the clear blue sky. "Wasn't expecting you to actually… hit me."

Sakura shrugged, stretching out her arms again as she jogged in place. It was cold. "I helped train Shin for his special jounin exam, and I've been practicing Yamanaka Style Eleven too. I… have some ninjutsu as well. C and B level, mostly."

Ayame blinked, finally turning her head—just slightly—to look Sakura in the eye. "Really? Why? Almost no paperwork ninja bother with many ninjutsu, even if they need to go through the Jounin exam."

Sakura shrugged. "Just… thought it might be necessary."

"Fire, then?"

"Yeah, and one lightning—to use with my whip, because it can redirect electricity."

"Huh. Um, Taijutsu only today—I need some kind of baseline—but tomorrow bring your weapons and we'll go all out."

Sakura nodded, watching warily as Ayame leapt to her feet all too easily for someone who'd supposedly just been winded.

And then her older sister was on her again, and Sakura suddenly realized that Ayame had been going easy on her, very easy, and she wasn't anymore.

And then Sakura was fifty feet away in a ditch, her ribs aching, and it was her turn to stare at the blue expanse.