Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Chapter 19: Sparks and Fireworks

She watched him enter the kitchen with blurry eyes, without the slightest bit of change to her person. There was a large, easy smile on his face. His blond locks were obscured by layers of brown fabric. The two yellow bangs that grazed his jawline managed to avoid the entrapment.

"Good morning, Tomoha-san," he greeted her with nothing other than a smile.

She paused from chopping the potato on the wooden cutting board. She peered through narrowed eyes as he picked two apples from the fruit bowl. Her lips pressed into an even firmer line.

"See you later, Tomoha-san." He twisted one of the apples in his hand as he left the room just as unceremoniously as he had entered.

"Hopeless," she said under her breath before turning her attention back to the potato at hand. She furrowed her brow. "Did you forget something?" She called out irately at the sound of shuffling feet that entered her kitchen not even thirty seconds later.

The door swung closed. There was a tap on the floorboards. A hollow sound felt like a strike to the face. She straightened out of reflex.

"Forgive me, Shimura-sama," she bowed deeply. "I thought you were someone else."

"Clearly," his lip curled upwards slightly. All the disapproval on her face had left hers and wound up on his. "At ease."

Tomoha raised her head. She kept her gaze trained to the ground. "Is something the matter, Shimura-sama? It is not like you to come to the kitchen."

"Nothing is wrong," his lone eye studied the space. "I was just curious." He sniffed the air, the fermented aroma of the miso soup she was boiling entered his nostrils.

"Curious?" She willed her body not to stiffen in response.

"It has been a number of days since we had fish, duck, or beef." He rested his hands on his cane.

Understanding settled onto her face. "Ah," she stirred the soup. She added more kindling to the firepit. "The Master decided that for meals only easily accessible ingredients should be used. Seeing how we are at war. Master said that everyone is expected to sacrifice right now, even him and the Young Master." She explained in a neutral voice, keeping the fondness she felt from the memory from coloring it.

"I see," Danzo sighed. "Please see to it that when my niece is here next week, the daily diet is more varied."

"Of course, Shimura-sama. Tsuhi-san would be our guest. I will see to it personally that she is well taken care of. Please do not worry about anything." She smiled. Only the creases around her mouth were impacted by the action.

"Very well," Danzo's dark eye looked around the space once more before he turned on his heel and left the main house kitchen. The door closed, allowing her to finally breathe properly once more.

She remained still, lying on her back with her eyes stubbornly glued together. Her throat was parched. She desperately needed water but the thought of moving was too much. It was insurmountable. She peeled open one eye. A groan left her barren wasteland of a throat.

'Everything hurts.'

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. There was crusty sleep in her eyes. She was dehydrated. Severely so. Sakura rolled over slowly. Her limbs felt foreign as if what were her appendages were replaced in the dead of the night with counterfeits.

"Kami," she groaned. Her voice was harsh sounding. It mimicked sandpaper scratching over wood. Her hand came to her forehead. Her head was spinning. She did not need to open her eyes to know that. She let out a short exhale through her mouth. She felt marginally better lying flat on her back. She scratched at the corner of her mouth. She could feel the dried-up drool.

'I must be coming down with something.' The only plausible scenario crossed her mind. Her arms pressed into her stomach. It was clenched in a tight knot that also made her insides burn.

'Did I walk around with wet hair last night?'

Her eyes snapped open. Sakura lurched upright. Her fingers pressed firmly against her lips. Her cheeks expanded to capacity. She inhaled slowly through her nose. She rode out the overwhelming wall of nausea that she all but ran into.

"What in the name of all that's holy happened last night?" She posed the question to the empty space of her room. Her jade eyes frantically scanned her surroundings.

Her fingers moved to her head. She was both horrified and relieved that her bandana was what her fingertips came into contact with first. Sakura looked down at her feet. They were still clad in her socks. She never slept in her socks.

Sakura rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She pulled her knees towards her chest as she stared at the blank expanse of the painted white wall. There was nothing but quiet around her.

'I can see!'

Her eyes widened. She pulled off the blanket completely from her person. She unsteadily got up to her feet. Her arm darted out as she reached for the wall to catch herself before she fell.

"It's light out," she groaned in dread. "I missed the wake-up call." She stumbled to the mirror in the corner. She tucked the wayward messy pink locks into the bandana in a frenzied panic. Her eyes were wild but she did not have time to worry about that right now.

She tugged at her kimono futility. The action did nothing to lessen the wrinkles or her anxiety. She ignored the burning in her stomach as she opened the sliding door. She used the wall to support herself as she slipped into the pair of sandals waiting for her.

Sakura bunched up the soft fabric of her gray kimono with her hands, lifting it above her ankles as she ran clumsily to the post she should have been at more than an hour ago. Her motor skills left much to be desired. Her stomach dropped when she did not see a tall, muscular frame by the stall. She refused to think about anything that was not directly tied to doing her job.

Her hands fumbled with the latch of the gate. Her haste was making matters so much worse for her. She ran up to the horse.

"Kaminari-san," she started out breathlessly. "I'm so sorry. You must be so hungry. I'll go get your -" Her confusion stifled her words. In looking around the stable her eyes settled on the full trough and the distinctive smell of fresh hay. "Your food," she frowned. She was at a loss for what to say.

"Look who's finally up," a deep, baritone voice called out. It had her freezing in place.

Sakura dared not turn around to look at the source. The spinning on her head was made worse by her expenditure of energy.

'I'm going to throw up.'

She bit her bottom lip as if telling her body that it better not even think about betraying her in that manner. Her eyes closed when her whole frame was rocked by a nudge. The damn horse nickered at her. She pressed her palm flat against her stomach. She took three shallow breaths to steel herself. She turned around slowly. Her arm felt around for the horse. She rested her hand against his shoulder.

Her jade eyes slowly wandered up his person starting from his black boots, to his dark green cotton pants. To the white shirt he was wearing. Her breath hitched. Her eyes could not help but notice the dewy quality of his smooth, sun-kissed skin. She saw his Adam's Apple move up and down as he swallowed. His lips were pulled into a loose grin. His eyes held too much for her muddled head to have any hope of reading.

She nearly lost her balance, she would have had she not been leaning on the arm that was on Kaminari.

I-know-something-you-don't was how she would describe the look on his face. On his perfectly symmetrical, dewy, bright, clear face.

"Sakura-san?"

She registered the raising of his blond brows. He was staring at her. It was making it very hard for her to form any kind of thought. Her ears started to ring.

"Sakura-san?" Minato called out her name with hints of amusement.

"W-what?" She blinked at him with an unfocused gaze.

"Looks like I spoke too soon," he chuckled. "You don't appear to be fully awake yet."

His words were like a bucket of ice water on her person. She looked over her shoulder at the trough.

"Did you feed him?" She asked in a neutral voice as if she was not staring at the answer just seconds ago.

Minato nodded his head. "He was getting restless." Kaminari snorted in response. The beast's annoyance was almost palpable.

The knot in her stomach tightened further - a couple more loops were added. She clasped her hands in her front. She dropped her head. She held the bow.

"I'm so sorry, Minori-san. I failed to uphold my responsibilities. Please accept my deepest apology."

She looked down at her sandals. Both blood and shame rushed to her head as she continued to hold her expression of penance.

"Sakura-san," his voice sounded gentle to her muffled ears. "It's quite alright."

She shook her head, unable to say anything further. There was nothing else left to say. Actions spoke louder than words. And she had failed to act.

"Sakura-san," his voice had an edge to it that she was not accustomed to hearing. "Please," his voice was soft.

She slowly moved back into an upright position. Her chapped lips parted in surprise. He was right there. All she had to do was reach out a hand and she would be touching him. He was so close.

She brought a hand to her forehead. She stumbled backward half a step. A hand at her waist caught her before she fell.

Sakura stared at the terracotta clay cup of water in her hands. It was so that she did not have to stare into a pair of warm cobalt-blue eyes.

"How are you feeling?" His gentle voice queried her.

'Mortified. God awful. Embarrassed. Horrified. Like an idiot. Take your pick.'

"I'm okay, thank you." She nodded slightly. The spinning had gone down some as did the nausea. She rubbed the back of her neck but not before prodding the knot of her head covering.

"Finish drinking the water. Slowly," he lifted the small cup up towards her mouth with his fingers. Her hands moved with his.

She took a couple of small sips. The cool water did nothing to alleviate the burning in her stomach and on her face. He was too close, crouching in front of her as she sat on an overturned bucket. She could smell him and it was making a whirlwind of pictures, voices, and feelings stir in her head. It was disorienting. He was disorienting. But she could not tell him that. She coughed into her elbow.

"I'm sorry," remorse colored her speech. "Because of me, you had to exert yourself." Her voice was so delicate and soft it could have been carried off by the wind. "Are you alright?" She timidly raised her eyes to regard his face only for a fraction of a second. A unit of time that she deemed safe.

"I'm alright, Sakura-san." She could hear the smile in his voice. "A little movement won't kill me." He sighed. "Did you eat?"

The question caught her off guard. She did not let it show. "I overslept." She drank more of the water. Her throat thanked her.

She saw his boots shuffle as he rose to his feet. "I'll go find something for you."

"Please don't," she looked up at him. The surprise on his face made the knot in her stomach lurch. "I'll be fine." She could only hope he did not find her voice half as pitiful as she did. "The apple will be more than enough. Thank you." When she could stomach the thought of stomaching it.

The man crossed his arms. He spared her a long hard look. She lowered her head.

"Just this once," Minato said with a small sigh. "I'll let this slide just this once. Don't let it happen again."

Sakura felt her lips pull into a slow smile. A warmth spread through her. It was different from the burning in the pit of her stomach that she had woken up to.

"It won't happen again," she vowed to him. 'I won't be a burden to you again.' And she vowed to herself.

Minato nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Good," he patted the white horse fondly. "He seems to prefer your method of loosening the hay over mine."

Her eyes sparkled. "It's all the wrist," she moved hers up and down to demonstrate. "Not everything is about brute strength."

"Is that now?" He shook his head good-naturedly. "If you keep up the good work," he rolled his head to look at her. "Maybe you can get in the saddle."

Her expression sombered. "Minori-san," she said his name flatly.

Minato regarded her with traces of curiosity on his features.

"I appreciate the words and the sentiment." Sakura's eyes moved down to his chin before she raised them again. "But I know my place."

"Your place?" He asked with a frown and a furrowed brow. His tongue moved across his bottom lip to moisten it.

Sakura nodded her head, once with decisiveness. "It's not on the Master's horse."

He cleared his throat. Her emerald orbs threatened to set him to flame. She blinked, the intensity was gone. She set down the cup and picked up the apple from the ground before she got up to her feet.

"I should go give the Young Master his lesson for the day," she spared him one last small smile before she was gone with the apple in her hand. She did not wave.

"Not so loud, Naruto-kun," she pleaded. Sakura rubbed her fingers on her temples. Everything was somehow getting worse.

"Are you sick?" Naruto cocked his head to the side. His hand came to tap against her cheek.

Sakura pressed her forehead against the cool wooden surface of the table. The sound of metal hitting the very table she was resting on caused her to raise her head. She looked first at the steel glass before her eyes traveled up to the arm and eventually, the face that it belonged to.

"Ambe-san?" She asked in confusion.

The elderly woman looked at her with an upturned lip. Not a hair was out of place on her mostly silver head.

"Drink," she stated simply.

"What is it?" She brought it to her nose. She nearly gagged.

"Milk with three raw eggs." Tomoha did not bat an eye. "It will help with the hangover."

Sakura vaguely registered the fact that Naruto was hovering over her shoulder trying to peer into the glass.

"Hangover?"

"You overdid it last night," Tomoha said with exasperation. "Drink, pull yourself together, and teach Naruto-sama his lesson for the day."

'Just what did I get myself into last night?'

She remembered nothing after showing up to the kitchen.

"What's hangover mean?" Naruto's blue eyes - the same shade of cobalt as Minori's - implored her innocently the second Tomoha was no longer in the room. She felt his eyes reaching into the depths of her soul. The judgment was too much.

"Something really bad," Sakura grumbled. She reached for the glass. She fought back against the urge to dry heave. She pinched her nose before and tilted her head back. She finished the drink in three large gulps. She had to swallow it back down again when it tried to come back up.

Naruto made a face of disgust. "Smells icky."

"Tastes like it too," she said with a sigh. Sakura moved the glass out of the way and began to teach the boy about shapes.

Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. The waning light of the lantern at her table was making it hard to focus on the figures in front of her. She bit the inside of her thumbnail. She still did not remember the missing hours of last night. She did not remember how she got back to her room. But strangely enough, she did remember one thing. Or rather, she remembered not remembering him.

For the first time in a really long time, she could say that she did not think of him, of her little brother. It made sense to her now why her father preferred the company of alcohol. It allowed him to forget about his dead son. It blurred everything around him so he did not have to be in a world, a reality where his son was not there. It was understandable to her now why her father became an alcoholic.

Sakura leaned back in her chair. Her arms reached up to the sky. Her back cracked. A soft moan left her lips. She lifted the small scrap of paper. Her eyes moved up and down as she triple-checked the figures. The longer she looked the more justified the frown on her face became. It was abysmal. It was unbelievable. It did not line up at all with what she had heard. Reality did not align with what was advertised.

She remembered enough from last night. A name: Shimura Danzo. And an association: bad news.

Sakura carefully folded the scrap of paper. She tucked it into the cover and the first page of her leatherbound book before she put the book back in its proper resting place in the top drawer of her desk. Her fingers made quick work of undoing the clothed knot. She smoothed out her pink locks with her hands. She gathered the strands from both between her fingers and the floor. She put them into the jar containing nothing but ashes. She struck a match. She watched the pink strands burn. She lowered her chin on her arms. The smell of burning hair alleviated the tension in her chest.

He stared up at the textured ceiling. The light pouring in from the open window provided just enough for him to make out the different panels of wood. She had worn the same kimono she had last night. Her appearance was more disheveled than he had ever seen. She was blurry-eyed and dazed. She had none of her quickness or her usual energy and strength.

She did not remember. Her mortification at not being the one to do her job told him everything he needed to know. She never would have been able to look him in the eye if she remembered her antics from last night. She could have been too embarrassed, too horrified to face him. She did not remember, just as he had expected. He himself and Kakashi had lost their fair share of hours all thanks to Miharu's brews. So it was not too surprising. In fact, he had counted on that fact. He had exploited the fact to try to get answers out of her.

The disappointment - if he dared to label it - was entirely surprising. He did not understand it. He had no right to be disappointed. He had no right to feel the way that he did.

'I know my place.'

The implication of her sentence vibrated like gongs in his head.

'It's not on the Master's horse.'

He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. Her words were a simple utterance of fact. She was nothing more than a servant. The horse belonged to the Master. They were not even on the same level in the hierarchy of things. Her statement was true. She meant it as such.

But it had cut him. It felt like a dig to his character, to his person. A simple truth that caused more unease and unreset than any insult could. He removed the thin pillow from behind his head. He brought it between his legs. He turned onto his side. His eyelids pressed together. He willed himself to fall asleep. The gongs that vibrated to the sound of her voice continued to ring in his ears.

Her palms began to itch well before she was even within hearing distance from him. The closer she got to him the heavier the footsteps felt. He turned his head and smiled easily at her, her stomach nearly dropped to her toes in response.

"Good morning. Minori-san," she dripped her head slightly.

"Good morning, Sakura-san," he answered with more cheer which was admittedly not very hard to do. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," she mumbled into the ground. Her face pinched together into a mask of neutrality at the presence of something in his hands. He followed her gaze.

"Ran out of apples, I hope an orange is okay." He held it out.

Her stomach twisted and turned at the thought. Her mouth watered and her eyes filled with longing. She kept her hands firmly to her side.

"It's just an orange, Sakura-san," Minato teased. "It won't bite."

She tore her eyes away from the orange-colored citrus fruit. Instead, she fixed her gaze on his face. She saw the smile slip from his lips. His expression became solemn. She licked her lips to moisten them.

"What is it?" His voice was as void as her mask.

Sakura reached into the sleeve of her kimono. She procured a slip of paper folded in half. She held it out between the index and middle fingers of her right hand. He reached for it. His eyes darted to the scrap of parchment before settling on her face once again.

"What is this?"

"I did the math."

He kept the questions on the tip of his tongue from being verbalized. He waited.

"On that paper is a number, a figure." Her fingers played with the knot at the base of her neck. "Could you please check with the Master if that is the number he actually allocated?" Her eyes were without conflict or uncertainty.

"Number allocated for what?" He asked with more calm than he actually felt. His jaw clenched slightly as his lips came together.

"Funds for the servants. For food," she answered without blinking.

He blinked as the statement washed over him.

"The shop in town, the one where food is received, raised prices a couple of weeks ago. The loss of food is not proportional to the five percent increase in price. Meals are at least ten to fifteen percent smaller than they were when I first arrived. And prior to this price increase. It had been six months without a change to the shop prices. But every month the food went down. Small but true. Even I noticed and I haven't been around all that long." She reasoned.

"There are children here, there's a woman with child," Sakura looked at him. It was all matter-of-fact in the way she spoke and carried herself. There was no room for duality or hesitation. Precision. She spoke with purpose and precision. "I don't know the Master nor do I care to," she paused, giving the impression she was measuring her words. "From what I've heard about this house both before and after I arrived, it just doesn't add up. It's hard to believe that the Master everyone talks so highly and fondly about would do something like this."

Sakura took a deep breath. Her gaze did not waver, nor did her tone fluctuate. "I think Shimura-sama is stealing from the Master."

Her eyes widened at the sudden pressure on her wrist. She could do nothing but follow him further into the stall. The sound of the door slamming was drowned out by the frantic beating of her heart in her chest. She felt the pressure move up her arms. His grip was tight. But that was not what startled her. No. It was his eyes. His eyes were darker than they had been before. Turbulent ocean. A controlled fury. She was unable to look away.

"Who have you spoken to about this?" He whispered. It almost sounded like he was hissing. His voice was so low and he was speaking so fast. His nostrils flared slightly. His anger burned her.

"Just Ambe-san", she stammered out. "And it was just a vague conversation." In the back of her mind, she was aware that he had her nearly pinned against the wall. A fact that maybe he himself did not fully know.

"Don't say anything to anyone," he narrowed his eyes. She could feel his heated breath on her face.

Sakura stood there silently as she watched the seriousness grow on his face. He was rattled. There was no doubt in her. If she had to hazard a guess, she would go as far as saying that he was scared.

"It's dangerous to make baseless accusations," he continued to press his will on her.

'Baseless?!'

The anger transferred from his person via his hands through her skin where the heat boiled her blood. Sakura jutted her chin in defiance. Her fear melted away to something less meek and weak. It hardened her backbone, fortifying it.

"I did the math, my math is right. Check it. Check the books." Her emerald eyes did not back down from his gaze. She watched as her open challenge caused a look of reflection to filter across his face, breaking through to him for a second.

"Promise me you won't say anything," he was a step removed from shaking her. She felt his hands clench around her in an involuntary spasm.

They exchanged a long look. Neither party seemed to be willing to back down. She heard the clock ticking in her ears. A moment of clarity from the choppy waves of emotion she was caught up in. She had a little boy to get to.

"I won't say anything to anyone. I wasn't planning on it anyway. I saw a problem. A mutual problem and I thought it best to bring it up with you. Since you have the Master's ear. I said my piece. The rest is up to you." Her voice was cold, detached. "We're managing. We're doing what we can. It would be nice if the main house, if the Master could say the same."

Her eyes looked down. She raised them again. They blazed with a fire he had seen once before when she told him off for opening his stitches.

"I won't cause any trouble for you. You don't have to worry about me. Tell him or don't." Her eyes were as hard as glass. "You can let go of me now."

Minato blinked, he was caught off guard at the distance - the lack of it - between them. His hands were curled around her upper arms. He was not sure how or when that happened. He did as she said, mutely. He blinked slowly at the space she once occupied only to see a brick wall.

"Enjoy your orange," she left the stall to go get food for the horse.

Minato let out a frustrated sigh. The crumbled-up slip of paper in his hand burned the skin of his palm.

Tomoha eyed the nondescript, small, clear glass jar. The dried herbs looked no different than dried mint leaves if they were pulverized into small fragments. It was only the smell that hinted that they were not. The aroma was bitter, pungent.

"You don't sit still do you?" She asked the woman dryly. The woman offered a smile in return.

"It will help with the joint pain," Sakura explained in a voice filled with temperance. It was soothing. "My Okaasan has the same problem in one of her knees, an old injury from when she was young. She dismounted from a horse wrong. It always flares up in the cold months." Sakura looked at the steam wafting from the ceramic cup on the ground. "You can add it to tea or even hot water. Just a pinch will do."

Tomoha pressed her lips even more firmly together. She opened the jar - setting the lid on the woven mat right side up - and transferred the dried herb medley into her steaming water glass. She put the lid back on the jar. She began to swirl the cup around, a soft hiss escaped her lips. She did not resist the hands that came towards the cup. She only let go once Sakura's fingers were firmly around the grooved body. She watched as the woman slowly stirred the contents with even wrist movements.

"You've gotten bolder," Tomoha noted.

"I thought you'd approve," Sakura kept her eyes trained on the water, spinning about in a small whirlpool. She leaned forward and held out the cup. Tomoha took it. She blew on it twice before taking a sip.

"Tastes a little like tea."

"It's close enough," Sakura smiled. She only remembered having tea when she was sick and that was well before the war started.

Tomoha hummed. "How many stories have you written?"

"Four," Sakura answered. Her hands lay flat on her knees. "I'm working on the fifth one right now." She felt her stomach spasm. Her fingers tightened on her kneecaps. Her ankles hurt less. She was getting better at sitting back on her heels.

"Is your stomach still bothering you?" Tomoha asked her lightly. She studied the woman through the trail of steam.

"A little," Sakura admitted. Tomoha seemed to have an uncanny ability to know when she was lying. "I'll be okay."

"You've been quiet," Tomoha's frown deepened.

Sakura played with the knot of her handkerchief. Her thoughts were jumbled. Layered on top of each other. She struggled to make heads or tails of them.

"What happened to Naruto-kun's grandparents?" Sakura stopped fidgeting long enough to ask. "His maternal grandparents, I mean."

Tomoha lowered the cup to the mat once more. She made a soft clicking sound with her tongue. The shadows from the flame in the lantern danced across her face. Sakura could only see half at any given time.

"They're dead."

Sakura flinched. "I'm sorry." Her jade eyes moved down from Tomoha's distant obsidian orbs all the way to the half-full cup.

"They were killed when Kumo attacked Whirlpool." Tomoha tilted her head from side to side. She let out a small sigh at a popping sound. The woman began to apply pressure to her upper arms. "A lot of Uzumaki blood was spilled in the attack."

"That's awful, I had no idea." Sakura filled the harrowing still.

"It could have been much worse."

Sakura raised her eyes. Her features marred slightly with intrigue and confusion implored Tomoha to continue.

"The Master," Tomoha's expression softened. It no longer resembled a statue carved out of stone. "Was very close to his in-laws. He was loved by them like a son. And he considered them to be his parents too." The pain in her heart caused the breath to exit out slowly from her lungs. "It all changed when Kushina-chan died."

"They blamed him," Sakura muttered.

Tomoha nodded her head slowly. It felt like it weighed a ton. The action left her exhausted. "Even if they did not blame him for her death directly, they placed the blame on him for leaving. They were heartbroken. Kushina-chan was their world. She was their only child. They asked in writing for the master to give Naruto-sama to them to raise."

Sakura felt her heart freeze in her chest. Her jaw hung loose and her eyes searched Tomoha's face. She had not misheard or misunderstood.

"What happened?" She breathed out, growing impatient of waiting for Tomoha to continue.

"The Master denied their request." Tomoha's gaze was piercing. Sakura stiffened. "You must appreciate how hard it was for him. The Master loved them. He called them Okaasan and Otosan. He never denied them anything before."

The words had weight, they had significance. Sakura felt them settle on her shoulders. She looked at the liquid in the cup. There was no more steam. The water had grown cold.

"The relationship dissolved after that. They only saw their grandson once, before they sent out the letter. When they came for Kushina-chan's funeral service."

'How tragic.'

Sakura blinked back the tears that were swimming in her eyes. "If the Master had agreed," Sakura's voice grew more and more unsteady with each passing second.

"Naruto-kun would be no more," Tomoha finished the thought.

The silence was deafening; it was all she heard. It consumed her until she had nothing more to give. They sat there, stewing in it. Reflecting on it, experiencing it. Sakura could not help but feel sympathy for the Master.

'He nearly lost everyone the day his son was born.'

He watched her place the various side dishes into the small plates lined neatly on the wooden tray. His stomach turned. Sakura had ignored him this morning, barely even acknowledging his greeting of pleasantries with a shallow nod of her head. It did not sit right with him. The perfect dome made of grains of rice topped the blue and white china bowl. It joined the rest of the offerings.

"Tomoha-san," he cleared his throat. The woman did not look up from her task. "I need you to be honest with me."

"I always am, Master." She quipped through barely moving lips.

"How bad is the ration situation?" He asked her in his general voice. The voice that commanded armies.

A dark brow, sprinkled with the occasional strands of gray raised at his inquisition.

"The food," Minato clarified in a tone that was decidedly more warm and less analytical. "How is the food for…the help?" He struggled to find a descriptor that did not make them seem less than only to come up woefully short.

"Dire," Tomoha answered curtly. She moved through the kitchen. She threw in some more seaweed for the miso soup. She stirred a wooden spoon in the boiling pot. "Lean," she added as an afterthought.

Minato nodded his head. "Thank you, Tomoha-san." He turned out on his heel and exited the kitchen. His mind raced faster than any of his movements could.

Minato furrowed his brow. His finger moved up and down the page. He looked at the item and the quantities. Every penny was accounted for. It was meticulous, it was thorough, and it was all in order. Just like the month prior and the month before that. He dusted off the accounting book for the month of May. That went back six months as that was when Sakura had said the prices for food had gone up again according to the vendor. He folded the spine back. He held it up to the book for April. He could see the reduction in goods received for the same sum. Each month there was half a percent reduction from the month prior. Small but there. Nothing stood out as out of place or out of the ordinary.

'My math is right. Check it. Check the books.' He could still picture the defiance blazing in her eyes as she challenged him to contradict her.

"It's not lining up," he muttered under his breath. The books, the books, did not corroborate her claim. In fact, the books proved her wrong. His frown only grew in size the longer he stared at the carefully calculated figures. The math was correct. Which could only mean hers was not.

The amount he allocated was enough. He knew it to be the case. Even with inflation. It was on par with what the Uchiha Clan - the largest in the village - allocated for their staff. Their considerably larger staff. The ratios were the same, if anything they favored the Namikaze Compound. There was no reason for her to say what she did. For Tomoha to essentially agree. The proof was just not there.

But her conviction in herself, so unexpected and seemingly out of nowhere, was causing him to pause and second guess. And that was leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He was not one to be double-minded about something. He was decisive. Usually.

Minato looked up from the brown notebook in his hand. He saw the door slide open. A familiar face came into view. His lips pulled into an easy smile right before he dipped his head.

"Shimura-sama, how are you?" His cobalt eyes regarded the man clad in a black haori over his white kimono. His feet shuffled and his cane stuck against the caramel-colored floorboards as he entered deeper into the room that Minato was in. The study. The place where all the paperwork to run the compound resided.

"I'm fine, Namikaze-sama." Danzo's ever-present frown greeted him. "Is something the matter?" He asked in a gravelly voice.

"Not at all," Minato chuckled easily. "I was just getting ahead of myself as usual."

Danzo was directly in front of him. His lone eye scanned the cover of the now-closed notebook in Minato's hands.

"Ahead of yourself?" His beady eye locked on Minato's face.

"Once the war is over, keeping the finances of the house running will fall back on my shoulders. I just wanted to reacquaint myself with the bookkeeping seeing how it has been over five years since I last took a look." He kept the easy smile plastered on his face.

"Arithmetic has not changed in the past five years," Danzo said flatly. His expression, his voice, and his stance did not betray a modicum of emotion.

Minato grinned. "That is true. But it seems the level of detail required has," he opened the notebook and flipped to a random page. "It's so thorough and meticulous." His voice held marvel that he did not have to feign.

Danzo nodded his head. "It is like everything I do, Namikaze-sama."

"It is indeed," Minato smiled softly as he closed the notebook once again.

"Well, I shouldn't be a bother to you. If you need any clarification or have any concerns please do not hesitate to reach out to me." Danzo brought both of his hands to rest on the hilt of his cane. His dark eye was once again boring into Minato's cobalt irises.

"Of course, Shimura-sama. I am eternally grateful for everything that you do to keep this home running." He bowed his head.

"The honor is all mine, Namikaze-sama. I serve you like I served your father, completely and with full loyalty." Danzo pressed his closed fist across his chest and dipped his head in return.

Minato kept his head bowed until he could no longer hear the man's footsteps or his cane. He turned back the stacks of notebooks in front of him. He continued to pour over them, trying to find the answer to why things were not adding up the same.

Sakura drummed her fingers against the wooden counter. The rectangular cubbies that lined both sides of the door were a marvel. Whoever had carved them out had considerable talent. She did not know much about woodworking but even she could appreciate the uniformity. Her eyes moved down from the ceiling to ultimately the two addressed letters in front of her.

The sound of boxes shuffling told her that he was not done with his task. The same task he had been busy with before she even stepped into the shop five or so minutes ago. She had been the one who insisted that he finish before he helped her but now she was beginning to regret that decision. The seeds that were in the pouch pressed up against her hip were beckoning to her. And she still had to go to the clearing. She disliked winter. The days seemed to go faster than a blink of an eye.

Sakura leaned her chin against the heel of the palm of her hand. The smell of adhesive and stale parchment did nothing to alleviate the gnawing of her stomach.

'I am not cut out for drinking.'

That was what she told herself over and over again. It had been days since that night that she still did not completely remember. Alcohol did not sit right with her. It was better than the alternative. The pain in her stomach was from the alcohol. It had nothing to do with her guilt from how she was dealing with Minori. She had still not spoken to him since accusing Danzo and handing him the figure; the figure that if accurate would only solidify that the Master was heartless in her mind. Even if her heart was not quite as clear. He was half of Naruto after all. It just did not equate in her mind. Kushina was amazing. Naruto is amazing. So the Master had to be at least decent right? To not impact Naruto's nature negatively in any way.

'Or was Kushina-sama amazing enough for the both of them?'

The bell chimed. She kept her head facing the cubbies. She registered the sound of a pair of feet stepping into the room.

"Senju-sama!" Lee's voice boomed.

Sakura's body froze involuntarily.

"Lee-san," the voice, a feminine voice returned the greeting. Sakura's hand twitched. "It's good to see you again." There was warmth in her earthy tone. Her jade eyes slipped closed.

"I have your package," Lee's loud voice blanketed everything. She could no longer hear her breathing or the pounding of her heart in her ears. "It's behind the counter."

"Thank you, Lee-san," the woman's voice was closer.

Sakura's nails dug into the wood grain. She dared not turn her head to look at the presence, the person, who was standing just to her left.

Lee had slipped through the door presumably to fetch the woman's package. The air in the shop was suddenly too thin. Her head was starting to spin.

"Good evening," the woman with red hair coiled neatly into twin buns at the sides of her head nodded at her. Sakura saw the movement from the corner of her eye.

Sakura did not trust her voice. She mimicked the physical gesture. Her stomach lurched painfully. Sakura slipped her hand into the top fold of her kimono. She located her money pouch. Her fingers fumbled around for two copper coins. She pressed the coins down on the wooden tray that rested on the counter. She turned to her right, her back to the woman before she turned to face the door. She kept her head bowed and angled. Her eyes remained trained on the ground.

Sakura hurried towards the door. Her pace increased when she heard Lee's heavy footfalls get closer. She did not spare the woman another glance. The bell rang before the cool air enveloped her in an embrace. Chilling her to the bone instantly. Her pace was faster than a brisk walk. She slipped out of her sandals and pulled off her socks. She tucked them into her obi, hidden from the world just like she longed to be. She bent down to grab her shoes in her hand before she broke out into a sprint. Her tears obstructed her view.

"Haruno-san!" Lee shouted after her. His thick brows bunched together as he watched the spec of muted green moving further and further away until he could not differentiate her from the masses. "Haruno-san," he repeated her name sadly. The door closed behind him. He looked at the face of his remaining patron. She had lost color on her face.

"Senju-sama," he said her name with a frown on his lip and concern in his eyes. "Are you alright?" He moved closer to the elderly widow in her early sixties. Her indigo eyes were fixed on the abandoned letters on the counter.

"Senju-sama." He said her name even louder. The woman jolted out of her thoughts.

"I am alright, Lee-san," Mito smiled at him. She watched as the man rounded the corner to be behind the counter once again. He patted the medium-sized box wrapped carefully for transport. She passed him the required till before she took the package under her arm. She dipped her head in thanks and in parting. She left the courier shop without another word. She refused to acknowledge the slight tremor of her hand.

The dried, dead turf was rough and scratchy against the palm of her hands. She could feel it on her kneecaps through the fabric of her clothing and on the back of her feet. A sob wracked through her. She inhaled, sharply and erratically. She could not catch her breath. Tears traced down her face in paths laid before them by countless brethren. Her eyes were wide. Her mind was completely unaware of the plight of her body.

A face. An angular face, with sharp distinctive features, a mane of fiery red hair. The mark of nobility resting on the center of her forehead. The same mark that was on her aunt's forehead. It was tattooed in place the day her engagement was announced. It was supposed to represent regality and honor. It only served as a testament to the family's shame now.

There was no reason for their paths to cross. They belonged to different worlds. There was no justifiable reason for Senju Mito to get her own mail. She had an army of servants just like Sakura to do it for her. That was what she told herself when she accepted her aunt's offer and warning. Haruno Sakura and Senju Mito should never even have been uttered in the same breath much less in the same room, standing at the same counter. This was not supposed to happen.

Her breathing became even more rapid. She was hyperventilating in earnest now. Sakura grabbed at her throat. She could not breathe. The more she tried the worse it became. Her eyes were wild with panic. It pushed aside the grief, albeit it was momentary. To make matters worse the lump in her throat began to cause it to tickle. She started to cough. Her tears mixed with snot as she tried to clear her throat all while drawing in a single breath.

She felt like she was dying. The world around her was getting smaller. The ground was getting closer and closer to her chest. It was determined to apply so much pressure that there would be no room left for her lungs to expand. If she ever figured out how to breathe again in the first place.

'Breathe.'

She closed her eyes. Both her hands were around her neck. She drew in a shaky breath.

'Breathe.'

She exhaled slowly. Her nails dug into her skin. The pain brought her back. She willed herself to breathe. She sank further down towards the ground. Her knees sprawled around her. She drew a couple more breaths. She traced circles on her upper arm. The shaky circles eventually became round, and smooth. Her movements began to stabilize. Her frantic heart rate reduced. The tears continued to fall but she could breathe. She reached into the sleeves of her kimono. She wiped below her nose with the rectangular scrap of fabric.

"Are you alright?"

She jumped. Her fearful jade eyes locked with a pair of flat onyx orbs.

"S-sensei," she croaked. Completely disbelieving of what her eyes were showing her. The hand that reached out for her shoulder had her whole body recoiling away.

"Forgive me, Haruno-san." His arm dropped rather abruptly at her reaction. The smile on his face did not reach his eyes. He held up his hands. And took exactly two steps back. "I did not mean to startle you."

Sakura swiped at her eyes. She brought her legs together, horrified that he had seen her in such an undignified position.

"Please don't be embarrassed," his gentle voice moved through the air. Despite his words, he turned around.

Sakura used the added privacy to fix her clothing, check to ensure her bandana was still in place, and wipe the rest of her tears. She sniffled and cleared her throat. It did not take long for her to regain most of her composure.

"I'm decent," her voice did not sound nearly as shaky as it had been.

Kabuto slowly turned back around. He held out his hand with every intention of helping her up.

Sakura shook her head. "I'm alright," she pulled herself to her feet. She focused on dusting herself off in favor of holding his gaze. Only when she was done did she ask the question at the forefront of her mind.

"What are you doing here, Sensei?" She focused on her eyes on his shoulder.

"The same as you," Kabuto said in a light tone. "I was looking to gather some plants. I can show you where the real good stuff is if you want."

Sakura bit her lip. She steeled herself. She was surprised to see nothing but kindness in his eyes.

"Really?" She did not mean to ask it out loud.

"Really," Kabuto said with a soft smile. "Konoha has great variation to her native foliage. We are truly blessed in that regard."

Sakura lowered her arms down to her sides. She nodded her head. She remained three steps behind him as he moved through the cleaning. She listened intently as he explained the benefits of each plant, some plants she had never seen or even read about. She was cautious of where she stepped as they reached the edge of the clearing right before the cliff started. She watched him reach for a woody plant. He plucked a cluster of yellow flowers. He rubbed the buds between his fingers. He held it out.

She leaned forward to take a whiff.

"That does smell medicinal," her jade eyes sparkled with wonder around the pink hue of what once were the whites of her eyes.

Kabuto chuckled. "See? I wasn't lying." He extended his arm to pluck even more of the flowers. "Galium Odoratum," he said the name. Her brush moved as she wrote it down in her book.

"This plant is really versatile. It doesn't hurt to have it on hand. It can be used for mild pain relief, and for relieving cramps and stomach aches. When used in tandem with a few other herbs found around here, it can do a whole lot more."

"Wow," Sakura tilted her head as she regarded the small delicate curved four-petaled flowers. He moved to add half the flowers to a translucent sack. She blinked in surprise as he filled another bag with the rest. He held it out to her. "Sensei?"

"For helping," he closed his eyes and smiled at her.

"I didn't do anything," she furrowed her brow.

"You're keeping me company and tolerating me as I talk your ear off. That's not nothing, Haruno-san." His tone did not imply that he was joking.

She looked at the clusters of plants out of reach for her. "Sensei that day that Minori-san was injured," she saw the confusion flutter across his features. "The man whose stitches opened."

"Oh, yes," Kabuto's eyes gleamed with recognition. "What about that day?"

"You were out gathering new materials right?" She felt the wind move through her. She brought her arms to wrap around herself.

"You remembered," he muttered in a daze.

Sakura shook her head. "You must travel all over right?" There was curiosity, dipped in hope that shone in brilliant emerald eyes.

"I do," Kabuto said with a small nod.

Sakura smiled in relief. It brightened her whole face. Her cheeks were no longer puffy from the cry she had. But the cold had colored the tip of her nose pink and left her cheekbones dusted with pink.

"Could you please be on the lookout for a couple of things?"

"Of course, what do you need?" He answered without hesitation.

"Lavender, rosemary, feverfew, or eucalyptus. Any would do." She rattled off the list. "I'll pay for the transport as well as your labor."

"I'll keep an eye out, Haruno-san." He assured her gently. He looked back at the plants further up the cliff. "Are you bored?"

"Not at all," Sakura breathed.

Kabuto grinned. "Great. There's still a lot here." The smile slipped off his face. "Are you planning on seeing the fireworks display? I believe in years past the curfew was extended for it."

Sakura shook her head. "No, I'd rather stay here."

'I have so much I need to learn.'

"I don't care much for crowds or noise." He admitted with a warm smile. He pointed to a plant. He began to describe its properties. Sakura absorbed the information like a sponge.

Sakura's eyes widened at the foot traffic pouring into the streets. There were still traces of light out which made her more mindful of the mud that lined the bottom of her sandal-clad feet. She had to keep her head constantly moving to avoid being either run into or running into someone else. She clung to the three bags fashioned out of cloth close to her. She could not afford to lose them in the madness of the crowd.

"The New Year display is a big deal," Kabuto said in a tone wrought with disapproval. "The smoke left in the sky makes it hard to breathe and see for the two whole days after the whole ordeal. Wasteful," he was right at her shoulder as they navigated the streets.

Sakura apologized every time her shoulder unintentionally brushed up against his. And when their fingers accidentally made contact. There was nowhere for her to go, to add more distance between their bodies. There were too many other bodies in their proximity.

"Sorry," she muttered under her breath as her shoulder was pushed towards him again. She jumped out of her skin at the sudden pressure on the small of her back.

'Just who the hell does he think he is?'

"Sensei?" She looked at him in astonishment.

Kabuto did not hear her question. It was either that or he was ignoring it entirely. Sakura fought back against her body's need to arch her back away from his touch. Just like she pushed the not-so-kind thoughts that were racing in her mind.

'Nothing is free. Everything comes at a price.'

To keep the peace she allowed him to lead her through the crowd. She exhaled in a relieved manner when he thankfully broke contact not too long after. The crowd was thinner. They were by the shops.

"Thank you for sharing," she said lamely. She bowed her head. Her eyes trained on the ground. It was dark out now. In ten minutes she would not be able to see her hand in front of her face.

"I can walk you to the compound, Haruno-san. I would rest easier knowing you made it safely." He offered in a gentle tone.

'No, thank you.'

Sakura hesitated. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face from pulling into a grimace. She was thankful for the lack of light and for everyone being in a hurry to find better viewing spots. No one seemed to care about the two of them talking out in the open.

"Yakushi-sensei," she began reluctantly. "I think it is best if I go alone from here." She raised her eyes to his face.

Kabuto rubbed the back of his neck in clear nervousness. "I understand, Haruno-san." He said in a level voice. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way."

Sakura kept her expression neutral. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses with his middle finger. His eyes darted to the ground. She nearly shuffled her feet. Her less-than-pristine feet had her feeling subconscious even if she acknowledged it was much too dark for him to see.

"I'm an orphan. I never met my parents. I grew up alone." He said solemnly.

Sakura's expression fell into that of great sympathy. Her hand moved to the center of her chest. She held it there.

"I spent most of my life alone. I never really fit in. I never learned how to make friends or speak to people my own age. Medicine made sense to me. So I focused my energies there. I wanted to understand the human body and humans in any way I could. Even after all the years spent learning everything there is to learn about it, I could never truly understand people." A bitter sound left his throat. "It's pitiful. I don't understand social cues. I don't realize when I cross boundaries. I'm sorry."

Sakura offered him a small smile. "I'm glad you told me." She said in a gentle voice. She recognized the vulnerability in his dark eyes. "You're doing fine." She encouraged. "I struggled with making friends too growing up. You may not understand all social cues but you are kind, Yakushi-sensei and that is a really good thing in my book." She tilted her head to the side and smiled at him openly.

Heat rushed to Kabuto's cheeks. She looked so beautiful.

"Thank you for telling me," warmth colored every word. "I feel like I understand you better now."

"Haruno-san," he breathed her name in disbelief.

"Good night, Yakushi-san." Sakura bowed her head.

"Good night, Haruno-san." He uttered, captivated by her energy. He watched her leave until he could not see her anymore. The warmth in his chest lingered for what felt like the remainder of the night.

"Are you alright?" He asked the boy for the third time in as many minutes.

Naruto looked up at him with a less-than-impressed look on his face. He was bundled up against the elements. But his nose and cheeks were red. His gloved hand was so small in his.

"I can't see!" Naruto pushed up onto his toes. He let out a frustrated growl. He squatted down trying to look between the legs of the man who was standing in front of them.

''I give you points for effort, kid.'

Minato tugged on his hand. Naruto looked up at him in surprise. Minato pointed to the sky. "Fireworks are going to be up there, Naruto."

"Oh," Naruto ground his foot in the dirt. He looked embarrassed. "Hey!" He squeaked in indignation as someone from behind pushed him forward. The look on Naruto's face promised trouble. He had seen it enough times in his youth to know that much.

"Naruto," he raised his voice so that the boy could hear over the murmur of the crowd. His son looked back up at him. Minato grabbed him from under his arms. Naruto let out a sound of surprise.

He exhaled loudly just as he came to settle on Minato's shoulders.

"Better?" The Master asked the Young Master with a smile.

"This is awesome! Otosama!" His eyes sparkled with amazement. He turned his head as he peered over the masses. "I can see everything!"

Minato chuckled. His nose registered a familiar aroma. "Do you want dango?" He asked the boy perched on his shoulders.

"Yes, please!" Naruto nodded his head.

"Done deal then." Minato turned his sights and his feet towards the stall.

Naruto's eyes took in everything as they waited for the sweet treat. He grabbed the stick with both of his hands the second Minato raised it toward him. He handed the boy a handkerchief.

"Try not to make a mess of things alright, Naruto?" Minato said half-heartedly.

"Hmm," Naruto licked his lips. The sticky syrup coated his mouth and then some. "Yummy!" He gushed. "I like dango!" He pulled another ball towards his mouth. "Can we bring some back for Ambe-san and my friend?"

Minato shook his head. He ignored the way his stomach dropped at the reference to her. The only friend he refused to call by name in his presence.

"It doesn't travel well. It's best eaten hot." He explained without either conviction or enthusiasm. "Are you done?" He tilted his head to the side to try to get a look at what was happening.

"Almost!" Naruto quipped. He pulled the last doughy ball into his mouth. He chewed aggressively. He held out the stick covered in sappy residue. Minato lowered it into the wooden box that was resting at the side of the stall.

He felt Naruto lurch against him. A loud boom shook the ground. The sky was painted in green momentarily.

"Fireworks?!" Naruto exclaimed in excitement.

"Fireworks," Minato grinned. He walked to the center of the street. They both tilted their heads up and looked at the sky and more and more colors burst forth. Naruto's grin was stretched from ear to ear.

"Did you have fun, Naruto?" He asked the boy full well knowing the answer.

"Yeah!" Naruo's eyes were bright. Nearly as bright as any of the lights in the sky had been. "My favorite were the really noisy ones," he made screeching noises to imitate the sound the screaming rattlers had made as they shot through the air before they exploded.

"You liked the loud ones huh?" He shook his head as he chuckled. "What a surprise."

Naruto grinned. "Can we see the fireworks tomorrow too?"

"They only happen once a year, Naruto. We have to wait until next year. A whole three hundred and sixty-five days." Minato explained as he tucked the boy in.

"Can we go again next year then?" He asked without a modicum of excitement being lost at the realization of reality.

Minato blinked in surprise. "You want to go again next year with me?"

"Duh, you're my Tochan!" Naruto looked at him with equal parts annoyance and anticipation.

'Tochan?'

Warmth budded in his chest. His expression softened. "Do you want to hear a story, Naruto? From when your Tochan was a little boy?"

Naruto nodded his head emphatically. "Will Okaasan be in it too?"

Minato's smile faltered but not enough for the boy to notice. "No, but your Ojichan is, and your Jiichan too."

"I miss Jiichan! And Ojichan. When will Kaka-Ojichan and Jiraiya-Jiichan be back?"

"Hopefully soon," Minato answered noncommittally. "Are you ready?"

Naruto settled down against his pillow. He folded his hands. His face was the picture of concentration.

"Ready," Naruto nodded his head.

Minato smiled. He began to weave a story of his childhood shenanigans. The time he and Kakashi had made Jiraiya mad enough to chase them around the compound. Naruto's giggles eased the dull aching in his heart.

Sakura pressed her back against the wall of the outdoor cover for the cows. The straw underfoot provided her rear with warmth. She pulled her knees to her chest. Another loud explosion rang overhead. The small herd of bovine mooed in alarm. They kicked up their legs and pulled against their tethers. But the rope held fast. Her eyes squeezed closed as another went off like a blast overhead. It painted everything in a blue light momentarily.

Sakura's shaky fingers traced the thick 'X' stitch on her sandal over and over. She was completely unaware of how it got there.

A/N: Oh Sakura and Minato, they have yet to learn how to communicate properly. Things are going to get more complicated for them. But hey at least Kabuto is around being all nice and stuff. Lol. Hope you liked. Let me know what you think!

Please review. Thank you!