Cherry Blossom Scents

God this one was a hard one to write. I think I rewrote the whole bloody chapter more than 4 times... Ugh. It is also a bit shorter than the previous chapters, but there are many, many more to come.

Well, this one is done. I hope to get the next one ready faster. More familiar faces in the upcoming chapters. This one was more to lay the groundwork for the rest of the story. Some boring parts that need to be told. (I found it boring to write). So look forward to more Genma and Sakura interactions after this chapter. The rest of the team will be more present too. Yay :D

Also, I am playing a bit with my writing style, so it may vary from the previous chapters. Just bear with me for now, please. I'll fix it all up later if it will be necessary.

Enjoy and leave some cookies behind. I love cookies :)

The abrupt blare of the alarm yanked Sakura from sleep, heart racing. Instead of leaping up, she clumsily fell out of bed, meeting the chilly floor with a thud, legs hopelessly caught in the sheets. On a normal day, she might have chuckled at her own clumsiness, picturing it as a slapstick comedy moment. But today wasn't that day.

Sakura wrestled free from her bed's grasp, murmuring a string of choice words. A vague memory of a haunting dream lingered, although the specifics escaped her. Lying on the floor, frustration mixed with a tinge of embarrassment. "Way to go, Haruno," she murmured, fingertips grazing the tender spot on her forehead. There, she caught her reflection, noting a burgeoning red mark.

But she wasn't a medic for nothing. With a few moments of focused concentration, she channeled her chakra to the spot. Pain and redness ebbed away. Satisfied, she smirked, "Might as well address these dark circles." She gave herself another quick once-over after another round of chakra and then headed for a rejuvenating shower.

Freshened up, she headed to the kitchen, only to be met by the disappointing sight of an empty fridge and barren cabinets. She mentally added 'groceries' to her to-do list: 'Shower gel, check on patients, report to Tsunade, restock supplies… Maybe I can delegate that last one?'

Lost in thought, she paused mid-stride in her room. Snapping back to reality, she mumbled, "Almost forgot my vest." Equipped with her essentials, she made her way to the Hokage's office, her mind juggling tasks.

When Sakura entered, Tsunade's office was a chaotic sea of paperwork, books, and an array of gambling knick-knacks that seemed to occupy every available surface. A glimpse of Tsunade's face peeked out from the clutter.

As Sakura stepped into Tsunade's office, she was met with a whirlwind of paperwork, books, and a medley of gambling trinkets crowding every inch. Amidst the organized chaos, Tsunade's eyes peeked out, immediately brightening upon seeing her.

"Sakura!" Tsunade's voice rang out, her face breaking into a warm smile. "Shizune filled me in. Fantastic job," she praised.

"Thank you, Shishou," Sakura responded, a flush of pride coloring her cheeks. "Quite the eventful evening, I see," she added, her eyes playfully scanning the clutter, particularly the telltale signs of Tsunade's gambling adventures. "Adding to your extensive library?" she quipped.

Tsunade let out a theatrical sigh, placing the folder Sakura handed her atop a teetering stack. "Give me the highlights?" she asked with a smirk.

Sakura inhaled deeply, then laid out the key findings. "The victim was killed by a severe cut to her throat. She likely died between 2 and 4 a.m. We've sent samples for a drug test and DNA analysis. We're still waiting for those results. Other tests are still being conducted. We don't know her identity yet, but she appears to be in her early twenties. The report has the specifics."

Tsunade leaned back, her finger tapping in time with the distant chatter of academy students, a reminder for Sakura that her medical ninja lecture loomed in a fortnight.

After a moment's silence, Tsunade spoke. "Thank you, Sakura. Have the others been informed?"

"Kakashi visited last night and will update the team. I'll loop them in as we learn more."

"Good to hear," Tsunade remarked, smiling wryly. "You must be swamped. If not," her gaze hinted at the desk's chaos, "I've got plenty here."

Sakura grinned. "Tempting, but my list might give yours a run for its money." A stomach growl interjected, prompting a chuckle from her. "I'm off to scout for breakfast."

Tsunade laughed. "Treat yourself and take a breather today."

Intent on doing just that, Sakura left the office. The memory of mouthwatering sandwiches nudged her toward a bistro not quite en route to the hospital. But the flavors justified the detour every single time.

Sakura waved briefly to the receptionist and darted toward the elevator. On her floor, she checked on her three patients, relieved to find them recovering well and set for discharge soon.

As she exited the last room, Nami's voice reached her, "Sakura, got a moment? We need to chat."

"Absolutely, Nami. I had something for you as well," Sakura replied, trailing behind her. They approached the nurses' station, a chaotic blend of empty mugs, scattered papers, and medical equipment. Sakura's gaze landed on a saline bag lying out of place.

"Why's this here?" Sakura asked, holding it up for inspection.

Nami gave a dismissive wave. "It's expired."

A closer look confirmed Sakura's suspicion. "By an entire year?"

Nami sighed, pulling over a chair. "That's what I wanted to discuss," she said, signaling Sakura to take a seat.

As Sakura settled, Nami started voicing her concerns. "Our latest inventory check? A mess. We found four boxes of these out-of-date saline bags, a batch of tainted gloves," she motioned to a list, "and that's just the start. An EpiPen, three morphine vials—gone. Even our bandage count doesn't match. And there's more: six boxes of disinfectant, sterile gloves, formula, nasogastric tubes, even a pump—all missing."

Nami paused, her worry palpable. "The audit isn't even complete."

Sakura leaned back in her chair, processing the information. "That's quite a lot to be missing. Have you asked the cleaning staff about the disinfectant?"

Nami nodded, her face reflecting her frustration. "They have no idea where the boxes went."

"Six missing boxes is definitely concerning," Sakura remarked thoughtfully. "Let's get the cleaning staff to double-check during their rounds. And about the tubes and formula — wasn't there a patient using them last week? Might be a logging oversight. As for the saline, those can go by the trash."

She glanced at the calendar on the wall. "At our next meeting, we need to stress the importance of meticulous documentation to avoid such mix-ups in the future."

Nami jotted a note while Sakura studied the list, brow furrowed.

While Sakura scanned the list further, her expression grew more serious. "The missing morphine and EpiPen are the real concerns. A lapse in medication control is risky. I'll talk to the pharmacy. Are there any other meds missing?"

"So far, these are the only ones we've noticed. I'll double-check the patient records and finish inventory for any other gaps," Nami agreed with a worried look.

Sakura sighed heavily. "We need to address this swiftly. Medication errors or unauthorized access? Unthinkable on our watch." A nagging feeling tugged at her, but she couldn't pinpoint it. Shaking her head, she stood up. Just as she was about to step out, she recalled what she wanted to ask Nami.

"Oh, Nami, before I forget, could you send out the supply orders today? They're filled out, just add what you need and send them off," Sakura mentioned.

Nami nodded in acknowledgment, allowing Sakura to mentally strike one task off her ever-growing list. She exited the nurses' station, each step through the hospital corridors intensifying the lingering unease shadowing her thoughts.

Lost in thought, she was instinctively heading to her office when an all-too-familiar voice pulled her back to the present.

"Sai, what are you doing here?" Sakura asked with a smile. "No injuries I hope?"

"I'm fine," he replied, eyes sweeping over her tired form. "You look like crap."

She responded with a playful eye roll. "You've always had such a way with words, Sai. It's a mystery how Ino puts up with it."

With an innocent tilt of his head, Sai offered, "I remind Ino daily of her radiant beauty. The books said it helps."

Amused, Sakura chuckled, "Whatever keeps the peace, I suppose." She regarded him, curiosity piqued. "What's the plan then?"

"Let's go. Lunch is waiting," Sai declared, nodding toward the elevator.

Glancing at her watch, it surprised Sakura to see the time. "You're right, let's go eat." She followed gladly, Sai's company a pleasant surprise on her busy day.

After finishing their meal, Sai got straight to the point. "We might know who the deceased woman is," he said, putting his teacup aside.

Sakura's eyes widened. "You have a name already?"

Sai nodded. "Her sister says she's Nakami Yukio, 24 years old. She used to help out at the trauma center and lived close."

Sakura tried to remember. "Yukio... I think I've heard of her. How'd you find out so fast?"

Sai replied, "Her sister got worried when Yukio didn't join her for breakfast like usual."

Sakura frowned, trying to piece things together. "Why would a trauma center volunteer end up dead?"

"We're looking into it," Sai said. "So far, not much to go on. Naruto's bringing her sister for the final check in an hour."

Sakura leaned in, "What was her sister like when you talked?"

Sai thought for a second. "She was upset, had been crying. Kept saying it wasn't like Yukio to miss breakfast."

Nodding, Sakura said, "They must have been close."

Sai added, "She mentioned Yukio didn't have problems with anyone and nothing seemed off lately. After getting no replies to her messages, she went to Yukio's house. When she found it empty, she came to us."

Sakura concluded, "So she thought something was wrong, came to you, and saw the photo?"

Sai agreed, "exactly."

Sakura stood up, "Thanks, Sai. I'll make sure to be on time for Naruto."

"Dr. Haruno!" The secretary, Ami, beckoned just as Sakura was about to retreat to her office. "Could I have a moment?"

Suppressing a sigh, Sakura retraced her steps to the front desk. It seemed as though her office was the very last place she'd get to today. "What's up, Ami?" Sakura inquired, glancing at the diligent woman behind the imposing desk.

Ami adjusted her sleek glasses and regarded Sakura with a firm look. "The logs show you left around eleven last night, correct?"

"I did," Sakura replied, her defenses momentarily rising under the weight of that intense gaze.

"The night guard was absent when I arrived this morning. Did you happen to see him last night?"

Understanding the source of Ami's stern demeanor, Sakura softened. "I can't recall. Who was on the roster?"

"Daichi."

Pondering for a moment, Sakura echoed, "Daichi. He's not one to shirk responsibilities. Did he clock in?"

Ami presented a printed log sheet, her finger pinpointing a particular entry. "Here, at half past ten." She then dragged her finger down the column. "But there's no log-out entry." Sakura scanned the list: employees typically had two timestamps - one marking the start, the other the end of their shift. And if someone forgot to clock out, they could expect a not-so-gentle reminder from Ami on their next encounter.

"Has anyone tried reaching out to him?" Sakura inquired.

Ami's gaze was laden with unease. "I've called several times, to no avail. I even had one of our volunteer hostesses swing by his place."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, mentally reminding herself of the lengths Ami might go if she ever forgot to log out. "Well, you've done your due diligence." Her attention shifted to the entrance, where Naruto was walking in, accompanied by a petite, brown-haired woman. Recognizing her likely as Yukio's sister, Sakura asked Ami in passing, "Who's on for tonight?"

Ami quickly checked her computer. "Kyo," she replied with a nod.

"Good, no need for last-minute replacements then. I'm sure Daichi will turn up soon."

Naruto approached Sakura, his tone somber. "Sakura, this is Nakami Ichika, Yukio's sister. She's here for the identification."

Extending a compassionate hand, Sakura said, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Ichika. I'm Dr. Haruno Sakura. Please, come with me."

The morgue was always a stark contrast to the bustling hospital above, a quiet haven of cold steel and clinical sterility. The steel tables stood in solemn alignment, and overhead, fluorescent lights bathed the room in a ghostly hue.

Sakura led Ichika towards the center, where a table lay draped with a white sheet, signifying the somberness of what lay beneath. Ichika hesitated for a moment at its edge, her conflicting emotions evident in every line of her face.

An aide, sensing the gravity of the moment, approached discreetly. Sakura asked softly, "Are you ready, Ichika?"

A quiet nod was all Ichika could manage, her gaze fixed intently on the sheet.

Following Sakura's gesture, the aide slowly revealed just the deceased's face. The illumination from above made Yukio's features eerily prominent. For a moment, the room was silent save for the quiet humming of the lights and the distant, muted sounds of the hospital.

Ichika's voice was a mere whisper, full of pain and sorrow, "Yukio..." As a tear slipped down, she gently tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Yukio's ear, a heartbreaking gesture of intimacy and finality.

Sakura stood close, offering quiet support. There was little that could be said in moments like these, where silence often spoke louder than words.

The hospital's sprawling lawn provided a stark contrast to the sterile morgue interior. Sakura found a secluded spot under a mature oak tree, its expansive branches offering a dappled shade. Cradling a steaming cup of tea in her hands, she took in the scent of freshly cut grass, allowing the natural serenity to envelop her.

The tea was warm, a comforting weight against the chill she felt from the morgue. Each sip gave her a momentary reprieve from the day's heavy burdens. She leaned back, her back pressing into the bark of the tree, her gaze drifting skywards, tracing the dance of leaves in the gentle breeze.

The sounds of footsteps approached, but she didn't turn to look until she heard a familiar voice. "Not often you're found here, Sakura."

Looking up, she found Genma standing there, a casual smile on his face, a senbon stick dangling from the corner of his mouth as always.

"Mind if I join?" Genma asked, gesturing to the grass beside her. He noticed the far-off look in her eyes. "Rough day?"

Sakura managed a small smile, her grip tightening around her cup. "You have no idea, Genma. It's been... overwhelming."

Genma sat down, adjusting his chunin vest. "I heard about the young woman. It's always hard, especially when they're around your age."

Sakura simply nodded, taking another sip from her tea. Genma sat down beside her, taking a moment to enjoy the serenity before speaking again.

"You know, in our line of work, we see a lot of things most people don't," Genma began, rolling the senbon between his fingers, "It can weigh you down, but moments like this? They're important."

Sakura looked at him, appreciating his words. "This tea and a bit of quiet make all the difference sometimes," she admitted.

Genma chuckled. "Always was the simple things with you." He looked out across the lawn, his eyes distant. "Days like these remind me of why I stick to the shadows. Frontline work, like yours, is tough."

Sakura smiled. "It has its moments. But then, I get to make a difference. I get to help, to heal."

He nodded, clearly understanding. "We all have our paths."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finding a brief respite from the demands of their profession. After a few moments, Genma stood, stretching his limbs. "Well take care, Sakura. And remember,

With a smile, she watched him leave, grateful for the unexpected comfort. The weight of the day felt a little lighter, and the tea tasted a bit sweeter.

After sipping the last of her tea, Sakura stretched and got to her feet. Tipping her cup to discard the final drops, she turned her gaze to the hospital. She was set on reaching her office and nothing was going to deter her this time. Avoiding the bustling lobby, Sakura opted for the backstairs, climbing swiftly to the third floor.

The hallway was quiet. Distant hums of medical equipment and the muted buzz of overhead lights were the only sounds. A patient's snoring echoed softly, and Sakura mentally bookmarked a sleep apnea check for him. But for now, her focus was her office.

She paused at her office door, key in hand. An uncanny feeling made the fine hairs on her neck stand on end. She instinctively glanced over her shoulder. The corridor remained eerily quiet, save for the faint notes of a piano melody wafting from the nurse's station.

Shaking off her unease, she looked back at the door. "Get a grip," she muttered, slotting her key into the lock. As she turned it, a strong scent of bleach wafted out. The room was dark. Odd, given she always left the blinds open, and she hadn't scheduled any cleaning today. Tentatively, she reached for the light switch, but nothing happened. Preparing to try again, a voice echoed out.

"Dr. Haruno? Is everything okay?" It was the duty nurse, peering at her from the station.

"I'm... I'm not sure," Sakura stammered, her pulse quickening. She tried the switch again and was met with the harsh glare of the lights, revealing an unexpected and chilling sight in her office.

The approaching nurse halted as Sakura's gasp hung in the air. "Call security," Sakura managed, her voice trembling. She pulled the door closed, locking it again as if to shield herself from what lay inside.

She took a moment, resting her back against the wall, eyes shut tight. The nurse's hurried footsteps and the distant murmur of the phone provided a grim soundtrack. Sakura could still smell it - the acrid tang of bleach mixed with the metallic stench of blood and an incongruous, sweet floral undertone.

Gathering her composure, she approached the nurse's station. "I need to make a call," she said, accepting the phone from the nurse. Without hesitation, she dialed a familiar number, Kakashi answering promptly.

"I have another case. My office," was all she could muster before hanging up. As reality settled in, dizziness took hold, and Sakura sank into a nearby chair, her world spinning.

The missing guard's absence was no longer a mystery – he was in her office, occupying her chair.

TBC