Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
Chapter 24: The Other Other Master
The sounds of the boy's excited feet slapping against the polished wooden floorboards resonated off the walls. The floorboards creaked as he moved further and further away from the dining room, the room he had been in just moments prior. It was times like this when Tomoha wondered who the true Yellow Flash was. He was but a blur. His presence was nothing but a memory.
Her eyes were narrowed and her mood dour. The lone occupant of the table was seemingly indifferent to it. The smile on his face was telling. As was the ease to his shoulders. He probably was unaware of the soft smile donned on his face. But she was not as oblivious. She was not as unaware.
Tomoha slapped his wrist. He had the audacity to blink slowly at her.
"I don't tell you how to sharpen your knives so kindly, stay out of my work." Her tone was clipped with her annoyance. She moved to take the rice bowl - glazed in a blue and white pattern - from in front of him. She moved it to the wooden tray without so much as making a sound.
"I was just trying to help."
She could hear the smile in his voice even without looking up. She would have rolled her eyes if she were slightly less annoyed or anxious.
"You're smiley." She spat out her accusation. The warm blue kimono he wore nearly matched his eyes. The white swirl pattern only seemed to draw out the color in his irises. He looked particularly handsome today. Even with his hair unruly. He refused to grow it past its current length so that it could be gathered on top of his head in a top knot like a proper samurai or cut his hair short to his scalp like his father did. It was in between the two extremes. It was impractical.
"Did you have a good," she paused to think of the word he had used, "discussion with the servant girl?"
His lips twitched. They tugged downwards into the beginnings of a noticeable frown. She paused from gathering the dirtied dishes lined with the residue of the meal they held to regard him. He was thinking, trying to place the distasteful description with the face. Her face.
"Sakura," Minato corrected none too gently.
Tomoha's eyebrows shot up. Her arms nearly crossed over her chest. "Sakura?" She clicked her tongue at the lack of an honorific. "You must have made up your mind then." She put the rest of the neatly stacked bowls into the wooden tray. She busied herself with cleaning the surface of the table with a small white tea towel.
His frown deepened. Genuine confusion came to rest across his face. She watched as he leaned back. His undivided attention was on her.
"What do you mean?" His voice was even and the question was simple. It was innocent enough. Despite that, she shot him a withering look. His expression grew sheepish out of pure habit. He received that look considerably less than his partner in crime, Kakashi, but he knew it well enough just the same.
"It had been nearly two months," she pressed her lips together in frustration, "since our agreement. I am merely asking if you have made up your mind regarding the manner."
She could practically see his thought process on his face. The logic, the way his mind worked out what she meant. She knew him. She knew him better than he knew himself at times. How could she not? Her hands raised him. She stood there in silent judgment as a dumbfoundedness broke through his features. He had forgotten. He had utterly and completely forgotten what he had set out to do. But before she could press, his expression changed just as suddenly. The smile was back. And it irked her.
"I need more time." He had the gall to say to her face. He could at least avert his gaze when he lied to her. It would be the decent thing to do.
"Really now?" Her dark eyes narrowed as she asked the question. She was giving him another chance to correct himself. But like a fool, he pressed forward.
"She's complicated. She has many layers to her." Minato answered unimaginatively. Maybe she had grown used to hearing the Young Master's lies which were more original, colorful, and frankly, entertaining.
'What woman isn't?' She bit her tongue to keep from scoffing out loud. She could not be much too obvious. Unlike the Young Master, the Master was keen. He was much smarter and more perceptive than his son.
"You've been shrewd since you were at my knee, Minato-kun." She let her voice drag out the words giving them more weight and significance. "You never needed much time to read someone."
She watched as his grin grew larger. "Like I said, Tomoha-san. Layers," he seemed particularly proud of himself. Or perhaps he was still surrounded by the glow he always seemed to have after he spent time with the pink-haired woman. Something they were doing much of these days. But it was not nearly enough.
Her expression sombered. "Must you go?" With three little words, she completely sucked all the air out of the room. Everything felt immensely heavy.
The man's smile was nowhere to be found. She found herself missing it. "I received word from Kakashi. He will be here soon."
Each syllable was a sharp pain in her side. She was being impaled over and over again, gasping for mercy. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. Her eyes were flat when she watched him rise to his feet.
"I should go train." He dipped his head in a goodbye.
Her heart was heavier than the footsteps that carried him away from her.
"Careful, Naruto-kun," Sakura pushed aside the stick that Naruto was waving around with reckless abandonment. It was too close to her eye for her to be anything but vigilant.
"He was so fast!" Naruto slashed it through the air. His hand placement was clumsy. The stick shot out of his loose grip. He rushed to pick up his 'sword'. "He's so cool!" He mimicked the inaccurate movements that were in his head.
"Yes, yes," Sakura muttered under her breath as she inspected the tiny green sprouts. The potato seedlings had broken through the dirty layer of the earth. They were presenting themselves to the sun as they grew in both directions.
"Your Tochan is amazing," she mused. It seemed to appease the boy. He had not stopped talking the second he arrived over three hours ago. He had next to no focus for his lesson hence the impromptu break. For her benefit as much as his.
"He is! He's the best. He's so strong. I want to be just like him." Naruto spun and lunged his stick forward. His face was colored with his giddy merriment.
"That's great, Naruto-kun," Sakura answered absentmindedly. Water pooled around the round mounds. She set the cup in her hands down.
"I'm going to be strong and I will protect you." Naruto's expression was as solemn as his voice.
Sakura stopped cleaning the dirt from underneath her fingernails instantly. "Naruto-kun," she looked at the boy, completely taken aback by his statement. "Why do you think you need to protect me?"
The blond-haired boy regarded her with as much seriousness as he could fit into his tiny person.
"It is the job of the samurai to protect the meek and the downtrodden. It is the way of honor." His stick was pressed against his chest as he rattled off words that were not his.
Sakura flicked his nose in an affectionate gesture. "Well," she smiled at the scowl that appeared on the boy's face. "That may be true but I am neither meek nor downtrodden. I can protect myself."
"But you're a girl!" He said, flabbergasted.
Sakura brought a hand to her hip. "That's news to me." She patted the top of his head with her elbow, jostling his hat. It slid to cover one of his eyes.
"No!" Naruto stomped his foot on the ground before he straightened his hat back to the center of his head where it belonged. "I mean you're a girl. You can't be a samurai. You can't learn to fight. You need protection."
'Is that the nonsense your dear Tochan has been teaching you?'
Sakura rolled her eyes. "The only protection I need," she watched as his face brightened. Hope danced in his eyes. "Is from you and this stick of yours," she disarmed him. Naruto let out an indignant squawk. She held the stick out of reach as the boy tried to jump up to grab it.
"No fair!" Naruto glared up at her. "Wait till I get big!" He grunted in frustration.
"I'll wait," Sakura grinned at him, showing him her white teeth. "I'm very patient." She twirled the stick between her fingers to add insult to injury.
"Sakura!" He whined at her. His bottom lip was pulled past his top. He knew what he was doing.
'Pout all you want, Naruto-kun. The more frequently you use your not-so-secret weapon the less effective it becomes.'
"You can have your stick back when," she regarded him with a sharp look which had the boy stop attempting to steal the stick and straightening immediately. "We finish the rest of the lesson, deal?"
His eyes darted from side to side mischievously. "Or," he smiled at her. "I can promise to be good for my lesson if you promise to give me the stick." He held out his hand.
Sakura counted to ten so it would look like she was actually mulling it over. "Fine," she pressed the stick into his open palm. The boy cheered.
'I am a total pushover. But he doesn't need to know that.'
The look on his face said it all: he already knew that.
"Thank you, Sakura," he smiled sweetly at her. It did not even take him a moment to resume jabbing the air with the object in his hands. He turned his head suddenly. His whole frame seemed to perk up. She did not have much warning before a loud exclamation left his mouth.
"Jiichan!" He screamed before he launched himself at a very tall man clad in an olive green kimono with a maroon-colored haori. His long white hair was contained in a low ponytail. Red paint trailed down from the center of his eyes to his jaw. He was unlike anyone she had seen before. Had she not been bowing, she would have had to tilt her head back to just look him in the eye. She slowly inched away, hoping to not be noticed.
"Hey, Gaki." Jiraiya grinned down at his grandnephew who was glued to his leg. "Staying out of trouble?"
"Yeah!" Naruto beamed up at him.
"Liar," Jiraiya narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I don't know why I bothered to ask." His eyes wandered off to the woman who was as silent as a vacant graveyard. She stopped moving the instant she felt his gaze.
"Well, well, well. Who do we have here?" He asked with a smooth as velvet voice. He pushed past the boy. Sakura's whole body stiffened. "What if your name, my sweet flower?" He smiled at her unevenly. His eyes were leery.
Naruto's cheeks inflated with the hot air of his indignation. He moved to put himself between his granduncle and his friend. He poked Jiraiya in the knee with his wooden stick sword.
"Hey!" Jiraiya glared at him in annoyance. "What was that for?"
"I'm going to be a samurai!" Naruto lifted his stick as high as his arms would allow.
"Yeah, yeah," Jiraiya pushed the stick aside. "Now where were we…." His voice trailed off in confusion. Jiraiya looked around the empty courtyard only for his eyes to come up just as empty. The woman was long gone. He brought his hands to his hips and narrowed his eyes at the boy who looked beyond himself with pride.
"I protected her," Naruto said smugly.
Jiraiya rolled his eyes. "Whatever kid," he scanned his surroundings slowly this time as he took in all the changes from just six months prior when had been here last. "Have you seen your Otosama?" His dark eyes settled on the boy.
Naruto nodded his head. The heat in his blue eyes had died down. "Tochan's sitting doing nothing," Naruto explained as he scratched his cheek absentmindedly.
"Tochan?" Jiraiya asked with a scoff.
Naruto was unfazed by the man's surprise. His eyes glittered as he suddenly remembered. "What did you bring me this time, Jiichan?"
Jiraiya grinned. "So impatient. Give an old man some time to put his things down first before you demand to see your present," he gestured to the satchel slung over his shoulder and the suitcase in his hand.
"Fine," Naruto relented. "Come on, let's go!" He grabbed Jiraiya by the hand and began to lead the very tall man to his room. His stick was tucked safely in the waist wrap of his kimono. Jiraiya could not help but chuckle heartily.
Jiraiya leaned back against the edge of the dark walnut-finished desk. His legs stretched out in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. He raised one hand to rub his face tiredly, slowly before it retreated back to its resting position. Minato's eyes were on him the minute the white-haired man made his presence known. Naruto had run off after leading him to his father who was meditating under the large, mature magnolia tree. The canopy of long, oval, almost waxy leaves with a brown fuzzy underside provided shelter from the sun's rays which were unusually sharp today. Minato had wasted next to no time on pleasantries once Jiraiya had gone to his room to set down his things. The taller man looked around the room with ample wooden accents. It was not his room, an observation would not verbalize as it had the potential to lead to unnecessary awkwardness.
"So," Jiraiya began slowly as he pulled together fragments of thoughts floating around in his head. "Explain to me one more time how giving Danzo more money was the move to make?"
Minato was unbothered by the faint skepticism in Jiraiya's voice. "In order to relieve Shimura-sama of his responsibilities," Minato kept his voice low. His eyes darted to the closed door where on the other side a guard stood. "We need more proof. Proof we do not have. I couldn't risk him growing suspicious."
"You don't have enough to fire him. He could claim that he reallocated the funds you gave him for the meals how he saw fit," understanding and recollection gleamed in Jiraiya's dark eyes. "Which is well within his official capacity. And if the money turns up," Jiraiya shook his head. "Accusing someone of theft and being wrong is nearly as bad as actually stealing."
"Exactly." Minato nodded his head. "I only had enough time to go through a few more books for various services and so far everything checks out. But I'm running out of days. Being thorough and discrete takes time."
"Time you do not have." Jiraiya sighed. "It could take weeks if not months to track down all the money he moved around."
"I can't go in with anything other than what is nailed down. And right now, I have more hypotheticals than facts." Minato managed to keep his frustrations out of his voice.
"You want a map of every stone, thorn, and pitfall in your path before you move forward with removing him." Jiraiya crossed his arms and lowered his head. "It is the smart play. But now you're lining his pockets for whatever his motives are twice as fast." Jiraiya rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Which may even give you less time to figure out what he is after or get the proof you need."
Minato sighed deeply. "Shimura-sama knows too much about the inner workings of both this house and our family history for me to confront him with this. It would be a mistake. It would be reckless." He paused. His eyes were two shades darker than their usual cobalt hue. "I wouldn't put it past Shimura-sama to apply pressure on the vendor to accept the blame. We would lose everything if he felt cornered enough to go down that route."
"We know how diligent and savvy he is. He does not care for loose ends." The white-haired man's eyes wandered up to the ceiling. "What a mess."
"Hm," Minato pressed his lips together in a bloodless line. The seconds moved slowly like eternities as the silence between them amplified the noise in their respective heads.
"You want me to track down the money." Jiraiya picked up the unspoken ask. "You want me to help you nail him down."
Minato nodded. "Amongst other things."
Jiraiya raised a snow-white brow in inquisition.
"There's more," Minato's words were like venom.
"Don't keep me in suspense," Jiraiya said gruffly.
"Shimura-sama is pushing his niece towards me. I believe he seeks to solidify his place here, his family's place. I managed to hold her off but something tells me it is a temporary fix."
Jiraiya let out a scoff in response. "Danzo isn't very subtle. Anyone with half a brain would expect that move to come. Still," Jiraiya tapped his chin rhythmically as all the seriousness that was on his features transformed into something else. Something slightly more sinister. "I am surprised that you of all people managed to pick up on it. It must have been pretty obvious for that to be the case."
Minato did not dignify his uncle's snide comments with a response.
"Is she at least a looker?" Jiraiya asked with a lecherous smile. "From what I remember, Danzo was quite the handsome face before he accepted a blade meant for dear older brother. Maybe attractiveness is a dominant gene?"
Minato rolled his eyes. They moved before he could stop them.
"Cheer up, Oi. There are worse things in this world than having a beautiful woman give you attention." Jiraiya teased shamelessly. "Unless war has hardened more than just your outlook." Jiraiya's eyebrows shot up at the flush that began to creep up on MInato's cheeks. A light dusting of barely-there pink.
"So she is pretty," Jiraiya concluded out loud. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Maybe you should run with it? Kami knows that you're a born-again virgin with an aversion to brothels. It makes me wonder what you're made out of. Even your father was not above seeking the occasional comfort after the passing of your mother."
"Ojisan," Minato broke Jiraiya from his tirade in warning.
"If I didn't know you so well, I would have guessed that blood and death gets you off. That you enjoy killing." Jiraiya offered with a shrug. "Will of steel. Self-control that is unmatched. You really are a once-in-a-lifetime kind of man."
"Focus, Ojisan," Minato said in a level voice despite the emotions swirling in his stomach and his growing discomfort.
"You're the one who brought this topic up," Jiraiya reminded him unapologetically.
"My intention was to bring you up to speed with everything Shimura-sama is involved with." Minato countered with a controlled calm. His face was starting to lose color again.
"Are you sure this is everything? How long has he been involved with supplementing his stipend?"
"No," Minato raked a hand through his yellow locks. While his tone and demeanor did not speak to his frustration and unease, the action did. "Six months is all I know for certain. The book dating anything further back would require me to go through the archives. Which I do not have the time for. Also, it would most certainly attract Shimura-sama's attention."
"And you will be without the vendor's books for corroboration. Do you think he is an accomplice?" Jiraiya cleaned his fingernails in a nonchalant manner.
"At this time? No." Minato answered.
"A lot of variables and a lot of unknowns."
"That is where you come in. No one can gather information like you, Ojisan."
"Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Oi." Jiraiya grinned as he squared his shoulders. "You should have written about your injury sooner. I would have come. Just like now. It took me longer to decode your new cipher. Either you've gotten better or I've grown rusty." His lips were in the shape of a frown.
"You came just in time, Ojisan." The frost from Minato's expression softened a modicum.
"Not to be daft but while we are on the topic," Jiraiya waved his hand lazily. "Gathering information requires money. A lot of it if you want it done right. And even more, if you want it done quietly."
Minato smirked knowingly. "I have a solution to that."
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What else do you need, Oi? Be direct."
"Kakashi is on his way back. He will be here in a few day's time. I'm needed on the front lines." Minato's voice was smooth and devoid of emotion. The mask of a general was firmly attached to his face, completely obscuring the view of the man underneath it. "I need you to uphold your responsibility. I need you to be the head of the house."
"You're giving me access to the funds." Jiraiya shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm leaving everything to you," Minato said flatly. "It's your responsibility, Ojisan."
"Is that all?" Jiraiya rolled the words off his tongue lazily. "You sound like Oniisama." He did not miss the seriousness that was settled in Minato's rigid frame. His attempt to be lighthearted did not go over well. "Oniisama is probably turning over in his grave as we speak." He muttered to himself but Minato's ears picked up his words all the same.
"I need you to look after Naruto. Watch him for me, please."
Jiraiya closed his eyes. He was not quick to open them. The vulnerability he had seen in his nephew's cobalt orbs was unsettling. He was not accustomed to it.
"Are you worried that he will do something to the boy?" The question hung heavily in the air.
"I cannot risk it." The lines of Minato's face softened. "I know how big of an ask this is. I am fully aware that this is not what you wanted out of your life. It is just until the war is over and I come back for good."
The sound of three soft pops filled their ears as Jiraiya turned his neck slowly. "It is not like you," Jiraiya stated cryptically.
"Not like me what?"
"You sound like the Minato of five years ago. You're looking forward to coming back and being the head of the house. Being here. You no longer sound like the man who used the war as an excuse to run from his problems." The full scrutiny of Jiraiya's gaze was on the blond-haired man. He searched for a crack, a glimmer, a whisper of the man he last recalled seeing and interacting with.
Minato held his gaze, unwaveringly. "Being back has reshaped my priorities." He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "What do you say?"
"What can I say other than yes?" Jiraiya said with a sigh.
A wry smile crossed his face. "You could go in my stead and I can stay here. That option is very much on the table."
"Right," heavy sarcasm dripped from his voice into a pool. "And have the ghost of Oniisama haunt me for the rest of my days for sabotaging your shot at being Shogun? Do you take me for a fool?" He asked him incredulously. "My fighting days are over. I am enjoying what retirement has to offer. I wasn't much of a warrior anyway."
"That's not how I remember it," Minato did not let Jiraiya's surprising moment of humility pass without comment. "You won every single battle you lead. You could have given Otosama a real challenge if you applied yourself." Jiraiya could have been the one who was awarded the house, the title, and the honor. If he wanted it.
"Not enough money in the world," Jiraiya's expression became reflective. "I enjoy my anonymity. It makes partaking in my hobbies easier." He chose to disregard Minato's raised brow. "There is a snake in our home. We cannot rest until its head has been severed from its body. Don't worry about the boy. He will be safe. You have my word."
"Let's make it official," Minato gestured to the desk that Jiraiya was leaning against. The man turned around slowly. He regarded the paper - the contract - in front of him. The deed to the house, the lands, and the money.
"Danzo won't be suspicious?" Jiraiya looked at his nephew, not caring that his tactics were very transparent.
"I am a father of a young boy. It is the responsible thing to do. Something I should have done before I left more than five years ago. Anything can happen in war." Minato's eyes were hard. His own father had transferred the ownership to his name when he had married Kushina. It was that foresight that allowed for a smooth transition without having to get the legal system involved.
"It's just practical huh?" Jiraiya said in a small voice. He reached into the pocket of his maroon haori. He pulled out the small wooden block. His stamp, his name, and his binding vow. He dipped the carved side into the pool of red ink sitting on the desk. He pressed down on the paper directly to the left of where Minato's crest was already adhered to the page.
Minato dipped his head in profound gratitude. "Thank you, Ojisan."
"You can thank me by coming back alive. Otherwise, we will have a real problem on our hands. I might just turn this place into a pleasure house." Jiraiya masked his very real worry with a lame joke.
Minato chuckled. "I have every intention of coming back."
"Good," Jiraiya said with a final nod. The air felt breathable again.
He moved as fast as the wind. It was biting and cutting. His eyes were narrowed into slits. His yellow hair whipped behind him, completely out of his way. He was nowhere near top speed. Kaminari was begging to be unleashed. To reach the extent of his ability with his long stride. Minato could not risk the horse injuring himself in his anxiousness to be running again, especially so close to the day that he would inevitably leave the compound again. He pulled the reins back which earned him a grunt of frustration from his horse. Kaminari shook his massive head and huffed but he eventually slowed into a gentle trot. By the time his hooves came within inches of the edge of the cliff, he was moving in a slow walk.
Minato peered over the village with steely eyes. It was a very visual reminder of what he fought for. Konoha was unaffected by the war, relatively. The houses were still standing. New construction was still going up. The inhabitants did not have to worry about hostiles riding on horseback ready to slaughter them in masses. They did not dream of rivers of red flooding their streets. They knew on some level there was a war. They felt the strain mostly on their pockets and the lack of one male family member in each house. But that was the extent of it. It was a foreign concept. Romanticized almost.
Konohagakure was not Uzushiogakure. They did not endure the lashes of war on their chest. They did not see the aftermath of a village leveled by soldiers on either side. There was hardly anything left. And if women and children did survive the sword, the fate that waited for them was much worse. Dying was the most merciful of the options when facing an enemy soldier. But they did not know that. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that not just for Naruto but for all the children that resided in the village.
Minato lowered himself onto the ground. He held the end of Kaminari's reins in his hand. He tied it to the trunk of a tree. The horse began to graze lazily at what was left of the grass. His jaw chewed loudly and his nose expelled air with audible force. His sheathed blade rested against the trunk of the very tree.
Minato crossed his legs under him as he sat on the ground. He held a curled fist with his hand. His blond lashes fluttered closed. It took some time for the adrenaline that was released during the ride to clear out from his system. He breathed in slowly through his nose expanding his lungs to full capacity. His mind raced even as his body was mostly still save the movements that facilitated his breath.
The man with one eye and jet-black hair dominated his thoughts. His stomach clenched with restlessness. Danzo was a problem. A very real problem. A problem that he had let go unchecked for too long. He had no idea how deep the rot went. He only knew who he could trust. Everyone else was a potential mole for the Shimura.
Minato pushed the images of the retired samurai from his mind. He had maybe a few seconds of still before a face came into the eye of his mind. His stomach pulled into a knot. His son. He was leaving his son once again to rejoin a world that had almost become foreign to him. It was startling how quickly things changed. In two short months, the battlefield which was his reprieve was now the thing keeping him away from the compound. The battlefield was no longer what he ran towards but rather, what he was being dragged into with ample reluctance. His uncle had been right in his assessment. He was not acting like the man he had become - the mask - the day his son was born. He was no longer that person. The hollow comfort that Jiraiya was there to ensure his son's safety was all the proof he needed. He did not want to go.
But want had no place in the world right now. Not when the world was hanging in the balance. Not when the stalemate was a hair's width away from breaking, releasing all hell along with its destruction. Want was a luxury he could not afford. No one could.
He focused his mind on his breaths. He breathed in for five seconds. He held it for three seconds. He exhaled for five. Five-three-five. That was his anchor. That was his count. That was what kept the thoughts born from his anxiety from running freely in his mind.
Naruto would be fine. Jiraiya would not let something happen to him. He would die before anything happened to Naruto. And any of Jiraiya's enemies could speak better than him to the fact that Jiraiya was very hard to kill. Danzo would not dare risk a physical challenge in any way. And Jiraiya was savvy enough to stay alive. He was not unlike a cockroach. His uncle was resilient. He was durable.
But that was only half the equation. The staff. They were vulnerable too. He would not put it above Danzo to hurt him through them. The man had been starving them for months after all. It did not get much more deplorable than that. A certain face burned in his mind. She had gotten under his skin and under his guard. He had completely forgotten what his intentions were - why he started the ruse in the first place. He was supposed to get information out of her. He was supposed to be judging her. He was supposed to determine if it was safe for her to be spending time with his son.
He had forgotten his mission objective. That never happened to him before.
Had she actually had ulterior motives - and he did not believe that she did - she would have had him in a completely vulnerable position. Naruto adored her. It was plain to see. The only thing that made any of this stomachable from a subjective standpoint was that she seemed to be just as crazy about him. He believed her. Her drunken and vulnerable admissions had him convinced. She was not a threat, not to the house and not to his son.
His breathing was well regulated. It followed a pattern. It was more contained than the madness that was his thoughts.
The wind moved through his hair. It was different from the sensation of her touch. It was cold to her warmth. It was intangible. It slipped through his fingers. He could hold on to her. The wind was fleeting. Her rough, calloused, small hands were constant in his. The wind was silent. Her laughter was infectious. It was colorless. She was vibrant.
Her eyes were greener than any leaf he had come across. No color in nature quite matched them. Colors in nature were constant. They were painted with the color they were dyed in. It did not change, for the most part. Her eyes were variable. In some moments they were more rich than the pine needles of a pine tree. Other times they were almost as light as seafoam when algae blooms washed ashore. Sometimes they were as dark as emeralds in hue but so much clearer in clarity. Her eyes could be studied for a lifetime and he doubted even then, he would know all the shades and colors.
Her lips were like two petals of a rose. Delicate, pink, alluring. They were practically calling out to him to run his fingers over them. To feel the soft, smooth surface under his calloused fingertips. Her smiling face held him with warmth. Her lips parted. They moved slowly before she pushed sound through them.
'For the poor love is an inconvenience.'
His eyes snapped open. The thought caught him off guard. He looked around him almost frantically as if he did not remember he was away from prying eyes. His heart rate was beating faster than his usual resting rate. He could not sit with his thoughts a moment longer. Minato pushed up to his feet. He reached for the sword. He fell into a stance. He began to focus on his breath coupled with his movements. The still-sheathed sword moved through the air. If his body was tired and exhausted maybe his mind would follow suit. He would try meditating again later.
His breath powered his attacks. His attacks distracted his mind from his thoughts of green eyes, milky skin, and pink lips.
He cradled the back of his head in his hands. His skin pricked as he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. Jiraiya watched the clouds move lazily through the barren branches. He had only been back for half a day and he was already feeling the itch to set out again. He had briefly considered reacquainting himself with a certain seedier populace of Konoha but Minato was still out and he had promised the man he would remain in the compound to be close to Naruto. It would not do to break his promise less than twelve hours of making it.
His walk around the compound had been unfruitful. He remembered most of the help from the last time. He was profoundly disappointed that the cute woman with caramel-colored locks and hazel eyes had swelled up to the size of a whale. Looking at her only made him incredibly sad. Another beautiful, young woman lost to impending motherhood. Her body would never be the same nor would his appreciation for her. She would grow wide and fat. That was what happened to women with children. It was the sad reality of the world.
Jiraiya moved the wooden toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue slowly. The discarded notebook to his side stared at him in guilty accusation. He had managed to write a couple of pages before he quickly lost interest. Being back home, the home his brother - seven years his senior - had earned, was stifling, to say the least. The walls of the compound were his prison. They kept him from the outside world. Being back home would not have been so bad had he not been forced to keep the schedule of a five-year-old. The boy was barely old enough to say anything remotely interesting. It was not like he could take his grandnephew to a brothel for some quality bonding. He was not old enough. Minato would kill him if Tomoha did not do it first.
He sighed moodily as he rested his forearm on a bent knee. His other hand rested on the thigh of his stretched-out leg. He turned his head when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. A discrete flash of brown and white. He sat up straighter. He was instantly more alert.
It was the same woman from earlier. She was young. Younger than even what had been his previous eye candy. He grinned. He would have to thank Tomoha for her impeccable eye. The woman's neck was slender and long. Her skin was smooth and clear. From her side profile, he could see what she lacked in the front she more than made up for in the back. She was a little on the skinner side. She was short. Compact. He could work with that. There was intelligence in her eyes. He could see that from there.
He turned his head from side to side. There was no one around. She was sweeping away without a care in the world. He rose to his feet. His knees clicked from the action. He did not need a reflective surface to tell him that he was smiling. It was automatic. It always appeared like clockwork in the presence of a beautiful woman. He was curious as to what she looked like without the bandana obscuring her face. It only added to the mystique. His curiosity grew with each silent step he took closer to her. He would talk to her. He would turn up the charm. She would reveal her secrets to him. Women had a hard time resisting him. Everyone loved a hero who could tell a good story. And he was the best storyteller of them all.
His forward movements were halted when he felt something sharp poke him too close to a certain part of his anatomy for him to responsibly ignore. His black eyes lowered down only to fixate on an angry face.
"Move, Gaki." He palmed the top of Naruto's head with every intention of moving the boy out of his way.
"No!" Naruto glared at him. His face was pulled into what he clearly thought was a mean mug. It only served to make him even more adorable. "Stay away from my friend!"
"Sharing is caring, Gaki." Jiraiya grinned down at him. "A friend of a friend and what have you," Jiraiya waved his hand dismissively.
"You're not my friend." Naruto narrowed his eyes. His stick was still poking Jiraiya at the side of his hip. "You're my Jiichan."
"Don't call me that in front of her." Jiraiya let his offense be known. He smoothed his ponytail. "If you must address me call me 'Oniichan.'"
"You're not my brother!" Naruto crossed his arms.
"She doesn't know that," Jiraiya countered indignantly. "Actually on second thought, just get lost. You're going to totally cramp my style."
Naruto shot him a withering look that even Tomoha would be proud of. The judgment alone was nearly enough for Jiraiya to reconsider. Nearly.
Naruto held out his arms, making himself as wide as possible. "You can't talk to Sakura. You can't be her friend."
"What did you say?" Jiraiya's eyes narrowed.
"I'll protect her."
"No, what did you call her?" Jiraiya shook his head before regarding the boy.
"Sakura?" Naruto said in her name in confusion, not understanding the sudden tonal shift in Jiraiya's voice.
"So that's Sakura huh?" He muttered to himself as he took in the woman with a new lens.
'Tsunade's niece.'
His mind worked to pinpoint the similarities between the woman he remembered and the woman he was currently staring at.
The chorus of chopsticks clicking and clanging against china was not enough to make a dent in the stifling silence. Minato kept his eyes on the food in front of him. He really had no interest in engaging in accidental eye contact with the raven-haired man sitting directly across from him. The man on his right, his uncle, was uncharacteristically quiet. Minato chalked it up to his journey. Jiraiya had traveled a significant distance to be back in Konoha. Naruto had opted to eat with Sakura instead of sitting through yet another stuffy meal with a bunch of adults. If anyone was even less of a fan of Danzo than him, it was Naruto. The boy went out of his way to avoid him at all costs. And for that, Minato was beyond thankful.
A throat cleared. Cobalt and obsidian orbs clashed with a lone onyx eye.
"So Hatake-sama will be back soon?" Danzo posed the question that he no doubt already had suspicions of an answer to.
"Yes," Minato supplemented his verbal answer with a nod of his head. "In a few day's time if there are no delays."
"I see," Danzo rested his hand against the table. "It is quite auspicious for you to be joining us, Namikaze-sama." Danzo addressed Jiraiya. "It has been much time since the last meal the three of us shared together."
"Namikaze-sama was Oniisama or Oi. Not me," Jiraiya grinned easily. "The last meal I shared with Oi here as well as yourself," Jiraiya's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as he tried to recall. "Was before Naruto. When Oniisama was still alive."
"Much time has passed since," Danzo let out a satisfied sigh before setting his teacup on the table. "We should discuss business tomorrow. Go over strategy and status leading up to Hatake's arrival."
"I agree," Minato's eyes darted to Jiraiya. "Ojisan?"
"I have nothing better to do." Jiraiya let out in a bored manner.
Danzo's lips pressed together slightly in the smallest gesture of disapproval. "How long will you be staying, Jiraiya-sama?"
Jiraiya flicked a mashed-up grain of rice from his shirt. "Indefinitely," Jiraiya answered. "I'm looking into investing in a new opportunity here in Konoha. And given how both Minato and Kakashi will be away for a while it just seemed like the right time to come back home. It's for the benefit of the brat."
"So you're here to be a glorified babysitter?" The innocence in Danzo's tone did not fool anyone.
"Essentially," Jiraiya's wide white smile replied.
Minato laughed nervously in an attempt to alleviate some of the building tension. "Ojisan also missed home-cooked meals."
The silence was painful. Tomoha finished refilling the last of the teacups before she quietly walked from the room.
"Whatever the reason may be," Danzo's eye darted from each of their faces. "It is a good thing. It will make the transition of what life will be like post-war smoother."
Minato and Jiraiya refrained from looking at each other. They were thinking the very thing.
Two heads looked up. Words died in her throat before the rest could be formed, at the sound of a singular firm knock on the door. Rin and Sakura exchanged glances.
"Are you expecting someone, Oneechan?" Rin asked her sensei with a slight tinge of unease in her voice. What they were doing was sanctioned. Tomoha knew about it but something about the fact that it was nighttime and she was in Sakura's quarters made it seem like they were doing something bad. It almost felt like an outlawed illegal gathering. The palpable confusion on Sakura's face made it all the more unsettling.
"No," Sakura frowned. Sakura slowly got to her feet. Her socks slipped against the floor. She walked carefully. "It's okay." She offered Rin a less than convincing reassuring smile over her shoulder before she slid open the shoji door. Sakura blinked a couple of times as she was convinced the picture in front of her would dissolve if given time.
"Ambe-san," Sakura said in surprise. Her eyes darted to the two other faces with her. "Miharu-san." Her eyes landed on the face of the brunette with frizzy hair she had seen a few times in passing but never conversed with. Her brown eyes were trained on the floor. She was a couple of decades older than Sakura but not as old as Miharu and Ambe.
"Sakura," Tomoha greeted her dryly. Her voice called the pinkette's attention back to her. Tomoha's expression was demanding. "Well? Aren't you going to invite us in?"
"Um…right." Sakura shook the cobwebs from her brain. The Haruno took three steps back. The woman shuffled into the room with various expressions on their faces. Rin had moved over to accommodate the three new bodies. They were all staring at Sakura.
'What could they possibly want?'
All it took was one non-panic-induced glance to answer her own question. She saw the hesitation on their faces coupled with insecurity in their body language.
Sakura lowered down to sit back on her ankles. "Rin-chan," she smiled kindly at the teen. The girl perked up at the sound of her name.
"Can you please pull out some sheets of paper? I think it would be beneficial to review characters today. Do you mind helping me?" Sakura asked her with gentle eyes.
It took a moment for the girl to put two and two together. "O-of course," Rin stuttered out in a nervous excitement.
The lesson resumed with a slight change of plan. She awoke the next morning with the same smile she had gone to bed with. A sense of great accomplishment sat squarely on her shoulders, grounding her.
Tomoha mostly ignored the very tall man who was cramping up what she used to consider a spacious kitchen. Jiraiya munched away on a carrot. She did not complain. It kept his mouth occupied which in turn kept her ears from having to listen to the garage that usually came out of it. Especially when he had that very particular look in his eye he was currently donning. She did not know why the Namikaze boys seemed to all share an affinity for harassing her while she was in her kitchen. Nor did she care to know. She would look into getting a lock for the door. She had more than enough money saved for it. She just needed to find someone who would install it without asking too many questions.
"How is Tsunade-hime's niece doing?" He asked her with forced nonchalance in his tone.
"She has adjusted quite well," Tomoha ran her hands through the rice she was washing. The cloudy water spoke that she still had more work to do. "I have no complaints about her."
"Hm," the tall man studied the woman. "The Gaki follows her around like a duckling. He's smitten with her."
Tomoha dipped her head further to hide a smirk that had formed on her lips. "He is not the only one." She muttered at a volume that was barely audible. Jiraiya had to strain his ears to catch what was uttered.
"She's probably a popular one." He sighed deeply. "She's nothing like that mother of hers, thank Kami for that."
"Stop stalking her," Tomoha shot him a withering look. There was definitely a defect in their blood, she was sure of it. Or maybe they just had a thing for Senju women.
"Relax, Tomoha." His face pulled into one that conveyed his displeasure. "The magic kind of wore off when I learned she was Hime's niece."
"Pervert," Tomoha stopped working just long enough to glare at him. "The rules still very much apply. Keep your hands and eyeballs off my girls."
Jiraiya finished the last of his carrot. A Cheshire smile was affixed to his face. "Yours are nice, Tomoha but I prefer them a few decades younger."
She moved quickly. She grabbed the knife from the cutting board. She threw it with lethal accuracy. Jiraiya ducked. The knife landed behind him with an imposing thud. He slowly turned around to see it embedded in a wooden beam right about eye level with him. The color from his face was completely gone.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Jiraiya asked her incredulously. His dark eyes were wide with disbelief.
"I wouldn't have lost sleep over it if I had." Tomoha shrugged dismissively before she drained the water from the rice. She spoke again before the man had another opportunity to put his foot in his mouth. "Grab me two heads of garlic." She pointed over her shoulder at the bundles of the aromatic that hung from the rafters.
"You only ever use me, Tomoha," Jiraiya grumbled, not unlike a child.
"I am merely trying to even the universal scales on behalf of the woman who had the misfortune of crossing paths with you," she blinked at him impassively. "No matter how slight."
Jiraiya rolled his eyes but he stalked over to the garlic that hung above. He pulled down two heads and handed them to her wordlessly.
"What happened to your aches and pains?" He asked her bemusedly.
Tomoha smirked. "I found the fountain of youth."
"Aging," Jiraiya made a face. It did not take long for his face to become reflective. "The Uzumaki women do age well. I bet you Mito-Obaachan could still manage to turn a few heads if she ever bothered to smile from time to time."
"Kami," Tomoha shook her head. "It's just one thing with you." Tomoha frowned. "That poor woman doesn't have much to smile about."
"I suppose," Jiraiya muttered in a somber tone.
"Go bring me one of the sacks of potatoes from the corner." She did not look up as she barked the command, breaking them both from their thoughts.
Jiraiya bit his tongue as he moved to comply. His shoulders were slightly slumped forward.
She traced the slightly elevated skin with a gentle touch. The redness and swelling were both gone. "Your hand looks better," she commented for the sake of saying something. She pulled her hand from his.
"It feels better too." Minato stared at his open-face palm. "It's not as painful to grip my katana." He raised his gaze to her face. "How is your Otosan?"
Sakura blinked in surprise at his question. "I-I'm sure he received the medicine by now. But I haven't received confirmation via letter yet since it hasn't been two weeks. It will take a while for there to be any noticeable changes." Her eyes softened. "Thank you for asking."
Minato nodded his head. "Let me know if there is anything else I can do to help."
"Sure," Sakura further tilted her head to hide her smile. The brush in her hand moved down Kaminari's neck. She had just finished checking his hooves to ensure his feet were in good condition.
Minato leaned back against the gate. His eyes took in her side profile as she continued to diligently brush Kaminari's hair. She was checking for ticks as she went. Even in the cold month of January, she was being thorough. She had claimed that no horse under her care would be neglected. He had communicated that the Master was more than pleased with the condition of his stallion. Kaminari never looked better.
"How are the lessons going?" Minato asked her.
"Good," Sakura smoothed the short white hair that she had parted with her finger with the brush. "I think I figured out why I keep waking up with pain." Sakura turned just enough to look him in the eye. "It's from all the smiling!"
Minato let out a hearty chuckle at her wholesomeness.
"Are you laughing at me?" She asked with feigned anger. The smile on her face really cut the effect of her words.
"You are such a bookworm." Minato shook his head good-naturedly. "Who would have thought teaching a bunch of kids and women would make you happy."
Sakura's hand holding the brush stopped. She could feel the velvet strands of hair under her palm.
'I guess I am happy. Really happy.'
She bit her lip. A sudden sense of unease washed over her.
"Sakura?" The sound of Minato's voice had her stiffening.
"It's nothing," she shook her head and the thoughts from it. Her hands were back at work. "I think in another life I would love to be a sensei. An official one. With a school and everything." She mused light-heartedly.
'It's lovely to think about.'
"Really?" Minato rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. "I would have guessed you'd want to be a different kind of sensei. The kind that set bones, and mended flesh." Minato worked to keep his tone neutral as he tried to work out a rather painful unpleasant question, "Isn't that why you sought out the Sensei in the first place?"
Sakura tilted her head to the side as she contemplated his statement. "I like medicine. I do. Being a healer is a wonderful profession. My Obasan and Ojisan used to have a shop. It closed before I had any memories. But I would fantasize about working there with her. Learning from her." She closed her eyes. She could almost picture her childhood dreams.
"And with what happened to Haruma-chan and Otosan falling sick, I took an even deeper dive into that world. Out of necessity." Every time she blinked she saw the faces of her parents staring back at her. "Yakushi-sensei," her voice held gratitude, "gave me hope. And that is a wonderful thing to be able to give someone." She sighed almost dreamily. "It would be nice to do that for someone."
Minato's stony visage did not betray any traces of emotion as her words washed over him akin to a tidal wave. He did not know what to label the sensation that was burning in the pit of his stomach. All he knew was it was dark. A contrast to her. To her light.
"But now being here," her voice had a far-off quality to it. "I've come to realize that working with kids is what I want to do." Sakura paused as if realizing what she had just uttered.
"Sorry," She cleared her throat. "It's what I would want to do if given the chance." His silence was telling. She could not bring herself to face him. So she laughed. "It's silly. Just the ravings of a crazy person." She chuckled.
"No," Minato's voice had her freezing yet again. There was so much authority in it. It seemed impossible to disagree. "It's not silly. Tell me more."
She could hear the smile in his voice. Had Kaminari not been there separating them, obscuring her view of him, she could have turned her head to confirm. But she did not. The warmth in which he spoke. It almost compelled her to humor him.
"It would be simple. A one-room school. Wood floors. Wood desks. Cushions on the floor. A large surface for me to write on. There would be a lot of light. Lots of light. Windows are so important. Every self would be stacked with books. Plants everywhere. Green is so important. The class size would be small, maybe five to ten kids."
Minato whistled. "You'd be swimming in coin with that many children."
Sakura rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't charge them." She said with firmness. "It would be free. I don't believe education should be monetized. Just like I don't believe education is just for nobility. An educated society benefits everyone. The more children that can read and write will grow up to be adults that solve more problems. Education allows for independence. Education can be an equalizer between those born with everything and those born with nothing. No child should have any less of a chance at a good future just because they were born to certain circumstances."
She peered around Kaminari. She caught just a glimpse of his dumbfounded expression before the horse became her shield once again. A shield from his judgment and his ridicule.
"Now do you see what I mean? Crazy." She said humorlessly when the silence became too much to ignore.
"It's not crazy, Sakura," Minato said slowly as if he was cutting the words directly from his consciousness to present to her. "It's revolutionary." Marvel was woven into his tone. Her passion with which she spoke and the vivid picture she laid out for him left him a little at a loss for words. He was discombobulated. Completely caught off guard.
"Careful, Minori-san," Sakura's voice was filled to the brim with teasing, "you'll get me beheaded if you keep speaking like that." She patted the horse on his neck which resulted in a neigh from him. "How about you? What would you do if you weren't where you were?" Sakura changed the subject before he could elaborate on what about her idea he found so 'revolutionary.'
"Probably just this," Minato answered after giving it some thought. "A simple life as a simple man."
"And here I thought you'd be jumping at the chance to be a lord." She spoke without thinking.
"So you've been thinking about me?"
She glared at him. "No. It's a matter of speech." Sakura rolled her eyes for good measure. His teasing would be more effective if she was not becoming desensitized through exposure. Besides, the latest attempt was a little uninspired.
'He can do better.'
"But why did you say what you did? You must have thought about it." Minato pressed. His curiosity was piqued. He was more interested in what she had to say than in answering her question.
Sakura shrugged, dismissively. "I don't know. Maybe I just assumed it was what all men wanted. Status, money, respect, a title. All nice things."
"The life of a lord is not all that it is promised to be." He stated without bitterness. "The other side is not always the best side to be."
"True," she pushed her lips to the side. "We all want what we don't have."
"Do you want more?" He wished he could see her so that he could read her non-verbal communication.
"No," Sakura shook her head. "I'm not ambitious." She was not entirely sure if that was a lie. "I wanted more when I left Tonika. But I'm happy. Things are good. Things are great."
He believed her. There was a great sense of contentment to her that was not there merely two months ago.
"Do I give you the impression of someone who is ambitious?" He surprised himself with the question.
"Hm," she hummed as she considered her response. "You're disciplined. You're here every morning before me. You meditate. You're hardworking. You're not afraid to get your hands dirty. You have hard-working hands." She nearly shivered as she happened to remember what his callouses felt like against her face. "You're intelligent," she bit back a smile. "You do know how to read don't you?"
"Are you offering to teach me?" Minato asked with a grin. "If so, the answer is no."
"I found my answer," she matched his expression.
"Which is?"
"It's not the same one I have to your question." She waited for him to work out what she meant. It barely took him even a second.
"Has anyone told you that you're kind of mean?" He was all smiles. "No temperament at all for interacting with children."
"Because you're such an expert right?" She shot back with a snort.
"Touche."
"All those things," her voice lost its light edge. "Point to your potential. As for whether or not you're ambitious, well frankly, only you can really determine that." She offered him a small smile. "You'd make a great lord."
"You think so?" He asked her, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was not a feeling he was used to experiencing.
"Yeah," Sakura said with one definitive nod of her head. "Because of you, Naruto-kun has a better relationship with his Otosama and the rest of the staff go to bed with full stomachs."
"I could say the same for you," his tone conveyed his lack of conviction.
"You could. It would be inaccurate. Since I alone wouldn't have solved either problem. It was because you decided to listen to what I had to say that we are where we are: better for it."
A silence that was not uneasy settled between them. Minato's mind tried to etch her words into its interior walls.
"We make a good team." He said finally.
"That's what you got from all that?" Sakura asked him playfully. "I take it back, you're not intelligent."
"Do pray tell, Sakura-sensei, what I was supposed to draw from all that." Minato waved his hand in an exaggerated manner, giving her the floor to speak.
"That you should listen to me more," she explained slowly as if he were as old as Naruto.
"Wow." He chuckled. "I'll take your suggestion under consideration." He added jovially. "I don't mind where I'm at right now."
His words brought a smile to her face, unbeknownst to him.
"So another member of the royal family arrived yesterday."
"He did," Minato said with a sigh. "It's the uncle. The younger brother of the first Master." Her eye was on him, the one he could see. "Stay away from him. He's a pervert." His warning came out harsher than he had anticipated.
To his surprise, Sakura laughed. "Oh, I know all about the Gallant Jiraiya-sama."
'Both Okaasan and Obasan warned me aptly.'
"You know about him?" Minato eyed her skeptically as his stomach dropped. His mind raced in many directions as it thought out possible scenarios where they might have crossed paths.
"He's infamous," Sakura offered quickly when she realized he was doing the mental math. Tsunade had drilled it in her not to take any crap from him in the last letter she sent her before Sakura set out for Konoha.
"I suppose he is," Minato chuckled to cover the relief he felt. "The Master is thankful that Jiraiya-sama does not use his last name. That is probably the only reason why the Namikaze name still has honor associated with it."
Sakura laughed. The sound pushed through her lips before she could stop it.
It was a very pleasant sound to MInato's ears. Everything about her was relaxed but something was still bothering him. She was refusing to face him head-on. All morning all she had presented to him was the left side of her face. Half a face was not enough.
"Sakura," his lips pulled into a frown just as the limits of his patients had been reached.
"Hm?" She tilted her head up to look at him. The side in question was facing the horse.
"Why are you being weird?" He pushed off the gate. He moved silently over the wayward strands of straw.
Sakura laughed off his question. "I don't know what you mean. I'm just being myself."
She was oblivious to his much closer presence. Kaminari eyed him warily. Minato pressed his finger against his lip. The horse exhaled through his nose before flicking his tail.
"I was…M-Minori-san?!" She let out a surprised yelp as she felt her shoulders being spun around. Her hands moved to cover her nose.
"Sakura," his voice was stern despite the mischievous gleam in his eye. "Why are you being weird?" He asked his question calmly. "Why are you hiding your face from me?"
Sakura gulped. She was cornered. Literally. The horse was behind her and he was in front of her. She lowered her hands slowly. She could feel his eyes searching her face. Eyes of her own wandered to the floor to the space between their feet.
"Uh," Minato nearly scratched his head in confusion. "I'm going to need a little more than that."
"Are you seriously going to make me say it?" She asked him in a huff. Before he could answer she pointed to her nose. Her fingernail led him to a raised white mass. "Happy now?"
"You were hiding your face because of that?" He asked her incredulously. He felt like he was being messed with.
"Kami!" She threw up her hands. "Yes!"
He was missing something. "I didn't notice anything. I wouldn't have noticed anything if you didn't say anything."
Sakura looked at him funny like he had grown a second head. "I basically have a second nose. It's so big!" Her period was back. She did not know how to feel about it. The first day of her cycle had given her a rather nasty welcome present this morning. "It's a monstrosity."
"You're being too critical, Sakura." Minato shot down her statement without a second thought. "You look beautiful."
Her eyes widened. He cursed inwardly when he realized he had said that out loud instead of just thinking it. She was gaping up at him. Head tilted back and all. He could manage nothing other than staring back into her wide, wide jade eyes.
He watched with bated breath as her lips parted. The sound of her nervous laughter filled the empty space of the stall.
"You're so funny," she forced out. She laughed a couple more times. Each one sounded more fake and forced than the one that came before. "I needed that, thanks." Her eyes looked anywhere but him.
"Any time," he chuckled humorlessly. His palm came into contact with the brown fabric of his head wrap.
"I need to go do...something," Sakura cleared her throat. "Something that is not here." She did not meet his eyes. "I'll see you later. I mean," she sputtered. "I mean I'll see you tomorrow. Like every morning. Because that's what we do. Because Kaminari-san eats every day. Like most living things." Her voice was two octaves higher than usual. She offered him an uneven smile.
"Okay! Bye!" She barreled past him. She stepped into the empty water bucket that was on the floor. Sakura squeezed her eyes shut and flailed her arms as she waited to make contact with the floor. Only the floor never greeted her. Her eyes snapped open.
It was Minato. His hand across her stomach helped her regain her balance and prevent her from face-planting. The very face that was turning as red as a beet. She could feel the heat coming off of it. It could melt snow.
"Thanks," she muttered under her breath, tearing her eyes from his.
"Anytime," amusement danced in his eyes just as his voice made her stomach dance.
"I'm going to go now," she pointed over her shoulder. She all but ran out of the stall. The sound of his chuckles only added to her mortification.
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