Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

A/N:

Dearest Readers,

First things first, this is not the last chapter. Despite the chapter title. Why I tilted it as such should make sense after you've read it. And the other bit of house keeping to get out of the way, remember those warnings at the very first chapter? Well, this chapter is invoking a few of them.

Warning: Torture and abuse. I tried to keep it not too vivid but it was pretty hard to write so I'm assuming it could be considered hard to read. I don't want to give anything away. So I will leave you all with that.

~L.H.

Chapter 31: The End of

Sakura covered a yawn by ducking her head into her elbow. A wall of blanket obstructed her movements. Her footsteps felt as heavy as her eyelids as she made her way through the hallways she knew better than the back of her hand. Her bandana was held together with a loose knot. Soft yellow light alerted her to any and all obstacles in her path. She kept her eyes trained downwards lest a guard get the wrong idea. The tanto at her hip almost burned her skin.

She came to a stop at his door. She did not even have to knock. Her silhouette cast a shadow. It opened to reveal a tired-looking Tomoha who almost seemed apologetic. She stepped aside wordlessly, granting Sakura access. The pinkette set her blankets on the floor and pillow over that. She stepped over it to the wide-eyed boy who should have long been asleep by now.

"Did you have another nightmare, Naruto-kun?" She asked somewhere between asleep and awake.

The boy nodded his head. "It was scary." His eyes corroborate his claim. She could see the tear marks left as a gift by the dream.

"You're okay," she brushed his hair from his forehead. "You're okay now."

"Are you staying?" He asked her with hope and a little glee. His little hands folded neatly over his stomach.

"I'm staying," Sakura smiled tiredly. Her fingers made soothing shapes on his forehead and her throat hummed a soft tune. It did not take long for his eyelids to close over his cobalt eyes and his lips to part slightly. Sleep welcomed him like an old friend after a long period of absence.

"I'm sorry for waking you in the middle of the night," Tomoha did sound apologetic.

"It's okay," she rubbed her shoulders. It was the second time this week and it was only Wednesday. They were not worried about waking him. He was a deep sleeper. Their hushed voices were nothing to him.

"I can get more blankets if the floor is too hard." Tomoha made to do just as she said. Sakura reached for her forearm, stopping her movements.

"It's fine, Ambe-san. Honestly," she looked at her makeshift bed. "It's just a few hours."

"Okay," the woman said with a nod. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He's never been so clingy before." Genuine concern over the lack of knowledge on how to proceed plagued the woman.

"It could just be the tension of everything. He's probably just feeding off our energies." Sakura said with guilt. She thought she was better at hiding her feelings. She used to be, back in Tonkia.

"I wonder if the letters from his father and uncle are helping or hurting. Maybe we should…."

Sakura shook her head. "He'll be devastated if doesn't get his letters. It's the highlight of his week."

"I know," Tomoha rubbed the back of her neck. "With Juna and Kai leaving. Kami," she smoothed her hair to her head. "I'm going to be relying on you more when it comes to the Young Master. I need to start making preparations for the anniversary memorial."

"Anniversary memorial?" Sakura asked with a tilt of her head.

"Oh," Tomoha pressed her fingers to her temple. "Sometimes I forget just how new you are. Every year on the Master's and Kushina-sama's wedding anniversary we hold a memorial. It's simple and mainly for the family. It helps keep her memory alive for Naruto. Some of Kushina-sama's things are held out on display. Be sure to pay your respects."

"Of course," Sakura smiled sadly. Her hand migrated to her heart. "It sounds lovely."

"It is," the woman hummed. "Get some sleep. And you can let your hair down. He probably won't awaken until the morning."

"Good night, Ambe-san." Sakura walked her to the door.

"Good night, Sakura." The woman gave her a look that Sakura had not seen on her face often. She was gone before Sakura had the chance to really dig into it. She slid the shoji doors closed. She blew out all the lanterns except one and slid onto her blanket. She tucked her bandana and dagger under her pillow.

When his little frame came almost crashing into hers not even an hour later, she was too exhausted to fight it. He settled into the hollow under her chin, his back pressed against her chest. Curled into a little ball with a small smile on his face. Her arms wrapped around him for added protection and warmth. He did not so much as stir even when she rose at the first caw of the rooster the following morning.

She wiggled under him with heavy breath. Her eyes were dark with uncertainty and lust. A shade past emerald. A saturated hue he had never witnessed before. Her lips were red, swollen from the abuse her teeth enacted on them. Straw embedded in her luscious pink hair. A picture he wanted branded in his mind so it would never be far. This was her. Exposed. Raw; what lurked under the mask.

"Are we not even going to pretend anymore?" She asked him incredulously. There was an edge to her voice that was awakening all kinds of things in him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he grinned down at her before applying more of his weight on top of her.

Sakura grunted. Her expression hardened to a glare. "Is this fun for you?" Her face was outraged. "Is this all I'm good for? Leaving you hot and bothered?"

"Sakura," he said in an admonishing tone even as his hands traced the curve of her hip. "Get your head out of the gutter. We're training, remember?"

"Is that what we're calling it now?" She rolled her eyes not buying his too-innocent smile. No, not with the way his hands wandered or the look in his eyes. "Maybe it has been too long."

Minato said nothing. Instead, he dipped his head and inhaled deeply the sweet scent emanating from her neck. "I was hoping we could talk," his lips touched the shell of her ear. He felt her shiver underneath him.

"It has been too long," Sakura noted blandly. "You have a woman on her back - me on my back - and you want to talk?"

"I'm a gentleman," his grin contradicted his statement.

"You're rusty," Sakura corrected. "You couldn't catch a fly with your words or so-called charm. Forget me." She pressed her palms flat against his chest and looked at him with a critical gaze as if she could not determine if she wanted to push him off or increase the surface area where they touched. "The Sensei is probably making all kinds of moves on me right now. And all you've got are your dreams and your letters."

His grin grew in size. He liked it when she spoke like this. So sure of herself. "I'm not worried."

"Not even of the Sensei telling me your secret before you get a chance to?" Something akin to vulnerability flashed across her face. His hand smoothed out the lines of worry from her forehead.

"No," he whispered in assurance. He pulled them so they were both on their sides. An arm around her shoulders and another around her waist. Her head sat on his bicep.

"Why not?" For the briefest of moments, her eyes flickered to his lips before they were back where they belonged, looking at him.

"If he tells you," he pressed his forehead against hers. His voice was soft and gentle but it held a power to it that was reassuring. "He will be culpable in the lie. He's known for a while now. You'll grow suspicious of his motives to tell you now of all times. You'll lose trust in him too."

"Hm," she played with the fabric of his shirt. "I suppose I can't argue with that logic…too much. Is that why you didn't tell Ambe-san?"

"I didn't tell Tomoha-san that the Sensei knows because I didn't want to be judged…anymore than I already am." He admitted sheepishly. His smile was almost boyish, not unlike one of Naruto's when he tried to charm his way out of being disciplined.

"She does do that a lot." Sakura relented. "What?" She narrowed her eyes at the amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Kind of funny to hear you call someone judgey."

Sakura scoffed in full offense. "When have I been even remotely judgey?" She placed a finger on his lips. "Don't answer that." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Minato chuckled against her finger. He kissed it, causing Sakura to lower the appendage. "You may not judge with your words but your eyes, your eyes say it all."

"My eyes?"

Minato nodded his head. "They never stop talking." He brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "They say everything you're too scared to." It was the way he said it that had her melting instead of boiling with rage. "They say what you can't bring yourself to."

"What are they saying right now?" Her eyes - her lovely, lovely - eyes locked onto his lips waiting eagerly for his words. Not wanting to miss a single movement.

The hand on her waist moved further and further down until it cupped the curve of her rear. "That you want me."

Her eyes flashed. She slapped his hand away. "You're just as bad as Jiraiya."

"I'm more subtle," he winked at her. "Are you not going to deny it?"

"Arrogance is not a good look for you." Sakura's words lost most of their heat.

"It's called confidence when it's true," he ran his nose along the edge of her jaw. This time when he tapped her butt she did not fight it. "Besides, it's helping me think." A devious thought occurred to him. "Think of it as doing your service to your country, if it helps."

"You've become bolder, Namikaze." She smiled at him in a distracted kind of way. An attractive kind of way. "And don't ever say that to me again. It was gross." She wrinkled her nose at him.

"Yes, Sakura-sama."

Sakura let out a long sigh, colored in her exasperation. "So what did you want to talk about? How creepy this is starting to become?" Sakura's eyelashes fluttered delicately as his hot breath graced the skin of her neck.

"You can leave any time," he reminded her.

"I'm literally your dream," she poked him in the chest. "I guess it's passable because I'm not really real and neither are you." She yelped softly when he bit her neck only to apologize with round soothing circles made by his tongue. "Minato! Stop distracting me." She hissed, lowering her hand to his forearm.

"What were we talking about?" His tone may pass as apologetic-adjacent but the no-good look on his face said otherwise.

"We were just talking," the lilt in her voice was tantalizing, "about how defying a direct order from the Shogun, your Shogun, makes you feel things."

His fingers dug into the skin of her waist almost in a warning or was it a reprimand?

"I must say it is quite bold of you," her hand cupped the side of his face. She blinked up at him. Her blunt nail traced a path down his neck. Only to move across his jugular with the precision of a weapon. "If the Emperor doesn't agree," she licked her lips, "then off with your pretty little head." She tapped the other side of his neck. "Dead."

"It's a risk," Minato nodded his head in agreement. It was an understatement. "Despite the Emperor holding the title of the strongest and most powerful man, it's really the Shogun who runs the country. The Shogun holds command of the military and his reign is fortified with strong political ties."

"Is this you trying to make me feel better?" She frowned. "Minato," her jade eyes darted as they searched his face. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," he traced the curve of her face, "that it's gone on long enough. The Daimyo never liked the Shogun. Lords - politicians - are crafty. They are sly. I'm betting on the fact that he has his ducks in a row for taking the Shogun down when the right opportunity presents itself."

"You," she swallowed audibly. "You're that opportunity."

"I believe I am." He said calmly. "Just like I believe the clan heads will support me in Konoha."

"Konoha is the biggest village in Fire," she added distractedly. She was deep in thought. "So you have the Daimyo and you have the clan heads, you have your samurai, you just need the Emperor?"

"Yes." He nodded his head slightly. "I just need him and it's as good as done."

"You're trying to end the war and replace the Shogun all in one move." She stared at him with wide eyes, gawking. "A coup."

"Of sorts." He said with an uncalled for level of conviction.

"Minato," she was at a loss for words. Sakura pressed her hand - her palm - flat against his chest. She felt his steady heartbeat corroborate that the calm, the conviction, was not a front. "He has men of his own. Armies! That are loyal."

"Armies that have been at war for five years, Sakura." He reminded her. "It's hard to remain loyal to a man when you're out there facing death on the daily."

"Is that why you're doing this? You've lost your loyalty?"

He shook his head. The way she phrased her question made his stomach turn. "No. Never. My loyalty is to my village, to Konoha. To my home. It's always been to the Land of Fire. It's never been with a man. My loyalty is to an ideal."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect he intended. She shrank back into him. He felt her head against his collarbone.

"What did Kakashi and Shikaku say?" Concern colored her words.

"Officially, they are backing my play in the spirit of solidarity."

"And unofficially?" She held the sides of his face. He leaned in.

"They may think I've lost my mind."

"Have you?" She asked almost in a panicked exasperation.

"I don't think I have." He pressed his forehead against hers.

"Why did you do it, Minato?" Now she reminded him more and more of the Sakura back at the compound. Drenched in worry. "Isn't coming home to Naruto the most important thing?"

"It is," Minato sighed with all the wariness from deep in his bones. "Earth and Lightning have strong ties. If we cross the border like the Shogun wants, Kumo will get involved. Not only will we be in enemy territory, we will have three different sets of soldiers to fight. It's simple math. We do not have the manpower to fight back. Maybe we gain hundreds of square miles, maybe even an acre or two but the cost is too steep. The struggle could last into the next decade, crippling everyone. All over what? Greed. It's not a good enough reason. It was never a good enough reason."

"Wasn't Earth the aggressor?" She asked gently. "Didn't they try to take what is ours?"

"It was theirs first. My Otosama was the man who took it from them. By force. Without cause and justification. He wanted notoriety. The land he took gave it to him. It gave me the life I have."

"So you're just going to let them take it back?" She furrowed her brow, deep in thought.

"That's not up to me."

"That's why you went to the Emperor." She let out a soft sigh at the hand on the back of her neck.

"The Shogun may not be painting the clearest picture of reality." His fingers worked through the vertebrae, diligently. Easing away her tension. "The higher up you go the more out of touch you become. Conversations and decisions become about land and money. The lives and the generations of hardships are forgotten from the equation."

"Are you worried about that happening to you?" Sakura searched his face. "When you become Shogun?"

Minato sighed. He did not have an answer. He did not know. He was just a man. He was not above corruption. He could not see the future. He did not want to lie to her. Not anymore. Not even in his dreams.

"The war is over, Sakura. I saw it on their faces. It can be over tomorrow if Fire holds the line. Earth won't cross into our border. Lightning and Waterfall will respect that."

"Did you tell them all that? The Emperor?"

"I did," he looked down at her face. Her hand was fisted into his shirt in quiet desperation.

"Do you believe everything you just said?"

"With everything."

"Then why do you need my validation?" She implored him.

"You know why," he whispered.

"Do I?"

Sakura's feet refused to touch the ground. Minori's letter burned before her eyes, branded into her brain. He wanted to talk to her. Talk to her beyond the backdrop of his job and responsibilities. He wanted to have tea with her. She had only had tea once before so her sample size was small but it had been a truly pleasant experience. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of repeating it with Minori sitting across from her and not Mikoto. She was excited. She wanted to run to her room, draft a reply, and deliver her answer on the winds powered by her excitement.

But it would have to wait. She had to be realistic. Even with Naruto away at the Nara Compound for a couple of hours, she had a long list of things she needed to do first before she could do the one thing she wanted to do more than anything. She should not even be entertaining the thought of the letter right now.

Some of her exuberance was dulled down when she remembered what today was. It was not without sadness. She looked at the face that was peering at her with a heavy gaze and downturned expression. Sakura walked over slowly in a wishful attempt to delay the inevitable.

"Letter from a certain someone?" Juna's tone was as harsh as her face.

"How did you know?" Sakura clasped her hands behind her back.

"You're smiling," Juna's eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened to not getting attached?"

"I'm not," Sakura drew a circle in the dirt, not completely understanding when or why Juna went from endorsing Minori to being so cold to the idea of him.

"Sakura-chan," Juna sighed deeply. "Let's not have our last conversation start on a lie," the woman pressed her lips together. Baby Koji was bundled up and asleep in her arms.

"I guess it's time huh?" Sakura asked for the sake of conversation. She could see the transport cart waiting outside the open gate. It was loaded with their meager belongings.

"It is." Juna's expression softened.

"Can you give me a second? I forgot to give you something at breakfast today."

"Sure, Sakura-chan," Juna's smile was tight and did not reach her eyes. All softness had hardened to something unreadable.

She was gone and back in less time than it took for Kai to finish loading the last box on the cart. Sakura handed Juna something wrapped in blue fabric. The woman reached out and unwrapped it while it was still in Sakura's hand. She looked at the preserved burnt-red and marigold-yellow flower, dried and encased in glass.

"It's a wildflower native only to Konoha. The Will of Fire Lily. Something for you to remember us by." Sakura smiled at her. "Don't worry. It's completely safe. Promise."

"It's beautiful," Juna breathed. "I've never seen anything like it."

"They bloom every year in March," Sakura's eyes sparkled with conflicting emotions. Happiness and sadness. Two sides to the same coin. "The timing worked out perfectly."

"That it did," Juna muttered to herself. Sakura wrapped the glass in the cloth. Juna handed it to Kai. The man moved to add it to the rest of their belongings. "Thank you, Sakura-chan."

"Don't mention it. Anything for a friend." Sakura returned easily.

Something skirted across Juna's eyes. She moved closer. "Sakura-chan, there's something I need to tell you," she clamped onto Sakura's wrist. Her grip was almost painful.

"Juna-san?" Sakura blinked at her in utter confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine. I'm fine," she shook her head adamantly. "There's something you need to know about M-"

"Sakura!"

The woman turned their head. A red-faced Uka came racing towards them. She panted with her hands on her knees. "You're needed in the main house." Her brown hair was a frizzy mess in the cold March air. "Now!" She clapped her hands at the still woman.

"Can this wait?" Sakura looked at the middle-aged woman with pleading eyes. "Just a minute."

"No!" Uka all but grabbed her by the shoulders. "Ambe-san will have both our heads and I like mine attached to my shoulders."

Juna's grip on her wrist tightened once before she let go. "Go, Sakura-chan." The woman smiled reassuringly at her friend. "It's alright."

The pinkette turned to Juna. "Are you sure?"

"We talked a lot at breakfast. I just wanted to tell you I'm going to miss you and that I expect you to visit soon!" Juna's smile was warm and bright and everything that Sakura remembered. She gathered Sakura into her arms before Sakura could utter a word of protest. The Haruno was mindful of the sleeping baby. "Take care of yourself." Juna squeezed her shoulders tight.

"Goodbye, Juna-san." Sakura had tears glistening in her eyes by the time they pulled apart.

"Come on!" Uka tugged Sakura's arm harshly.

"Goodbye, Sakura-chan," Juna muttered with heavy guilt as she watched the pinkette look over her shoulder at her as Uka ushered her further and further away. "Goodbye, friend."

"Ready?" Kai was by her side with a solemn visage.

"Hm," she regarded the compound one last time. It was just as beautiful today as it was the day she arrived over three years ago.

"What is this place?" Sakura looked around the dark space. A lone window was covered by thick, purple drapes. She launched into a coughing fit when dust rose as she moved them, almost hissing as the light hit her squarely in the eyes.

"Storage," Uka answered blandly. She all but shoved a rag and a broom in Sakura's hands. "Ambe-san wants you to have this place organized before the Young Master gets back. That should give you two hours."

"Does she have a preference for how things should be? A system maybe?" Sakura asked dubiously. From where she stood, everything was pretty organized. It was just boxes stacked on boxes. She did not see what she was supposed to do.

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Uka's hands were on her hips. There was a nervous tremor to them. But Sakura did not think much of it. Everyone was a little on edge. Tomoha was even more short than usual of late. "Just dust things, sweep things, if something looks broken throw it out. It's really self-explanatory."

"Where is Ambe-san?" Sakura asked as the thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Everywhere! Just get to work. I have a hundred things to do and losing my mind answering your pointless questions is not one of them." The woman said with a huff as she threw up her hands. "Figure it out!"

Sakura blinked at her retreating back. "Okay then…." She turned back to the task in front of her. She set the broom aside and tightened the knot on her bandana before rubbing her hands together. "I can do this." Cleaning she could handle. Cleaning she was good at. Maybe in organizing the boxes she could find inspiration on how to organize the mess that was her head and heart.

"Phew," Sakura used her forearm to dab at the sweat on her brow that was persistent through her bandana. She pushed it up slightly, wincing at the discomfort the dampness caused. The broom rested in her hand. She moved backward as she continued to sweep. The wooden handle hit a box, sending it topping over.

"Oh no!" Sakura rested the broom against a tower of boxes - all organized - before sinking to her knees and sitting on her heels. "Kami," she grimaced. "Please don't let there be anything broken in this box." She folded her hands as she said her quick plea for mercy. Tomoha would wear her like a second skin if she broke anything.

With nervous movements. Sakura slid her hand under the lid of the box before flipping it over. Things rattled and shook. Her heart sank. Her bottom lip was between her teeth as she opened the wooden lid. She sifted through it carefully, mindful of any hazards such as broken glass. Her heart hammered in her chest. To her immense relief, it just seemed to be a heavy kimono wrapped in paper and a couple of hair pieces. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the silky fabric. She could just make out the head of an embroidered peacock. She had only read about them but the description matched the hyper-realistic needlework.

"Wow," she marveled breathlessly. "This is Kushina-sama's wedding kimono." It had to be. It was much too ornate and regal to be anything else. She smiled softly as she held the hairpins to it. They glittered in the beams of light like they too were fashioned not from gold but sunshine. How beautiful must they have looked adorned and twisted into her fiery hair? Sakura rose to her feet, she held the kimono against her and a pin to her bandana. She stared at her reflection in the old, gold-leaf-covered ornate standing mirror.

Because why not? And when would she ever have the chance again? She decided to indulge a small part of her that she did not even realize existed before this moment.

The kimono felt almost as heavy as her bones did. Kushina was taller than her. She gathered because she had to hold the kimono higher up, at her neck to keep it from sweeping the ground. She could almost picture the way it moved and how it must have been draped on her person. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She wondered if Naruto's mother wore it as well as Mikoto had worn hers. She must have. She was an Uzumaki. She came from a rich clan with a rich history. A history that was not all too removed from her own family tree. She felt almost giddy seeing the whole thing in the mirror.

The soft smile that was on Sakura's face was shocked off her face when she caught her eyes.

"Green with envy," she muttered in a hollow tone. She took a step back. The arm that was holding the hairpin fell limply to her side.

"What am I doing?" What would someone think if they caught her?

She looked ridiculous. She was ridiculous. She had no business being in the same room as the kimono, much less holding it in her unworthy hands. It was laughable. She could pretend all she wanted but her face, her eyes, her skin, her hair, that did not lie. She was immersing herself in delusions. No amount of sweet nothings muttered in her ears in a dream could change the fact that she was and always will be marked by the demon, by the bad karma of her past life. She was an Oni.

She nearly dropped the kimono. She had just enough of her wits about her to hold on long enough to turn around. She quickly moved to fold it just as she had found it. She hastily wrapped it, and put it back into the box. She moved to shove the hairpins back in the box. Her heart froze in her chest when something crinkled. She saw a brown corner poking out from the bottom of the box. She pulled it towards her carefully. Her heart restarted painfully in her chest, hitting her ribs. With shaking fingers and a dry throat, she opened the paper.

Her brain stopped when her eyes registered a familiar pattern. She looked from the paper to the wrapped kimono. It was one and the same. Her eyes moved up the page slowly. She completely forgot to breathe when she saw a pale face, with dark blue eyes and hair as red as fire.

It was no wonder to her now why Naruto was so adamant that his mother was a Hime. She was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. She was everything a person could want in a woman. She was regal. She had kind eyes. Her hair was vibrant, thick, and strong. Her face was a perfect heart and her features were symmetrical.

She was stunning in her wedding kimono. There was no other word for it. Sakura was stunned into silence. She was stunned into losing all form of thought. Kushina was everything. She held out the painting. She tried to visualize her as a real person. She closed her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips. She could practically picture Kushina walking hand and hand with her son in her lavish white kimono embroidered with the stunning colors of a peacock. She could see them together. Laughing and smiling, wearing matching grins.

"The way it should have been." The way it was not meant to be. Her pink lashes parted to reveal solemn eyes.

She had so many words. So many things she wanted to say. The thoughts were pushing over each other trying desperately to get out, leaving her mind a jumbled mess. The lump in her throat prevented it all. What could she say?

Could she tell the woman that her son was amazing? Vibrant and full of life and happiness. That he was loud. He was messy. He was open. He was brave. He was rash. He was headstrong. And full of trouble and with a strong sense of adventure? That he was everything?

No, she could not say any of that. Instead, she made a sympathetic sound as she drank in the painting. It was crinkled. She smoothed it with a gentle hand. She swallowed painfully. She cleared her throat but the obstruction was still lodged there.

She could not tell her about the letters. The letters her son wrote to her from his heart with belief in every fiber of his being that she would read them and write back. Her heart twisted because Kushina would never read them and Naruto would never hear her response. The fact he had to write them at all was tragic enough. For one moment she looked around the room, a short reprieve from the heaviness in her chest. Kushina's life packed away into boxes.

She, as a perfect stranger, could not tell the woman in her hands that her son loved her so much. She could not do that. It was not her place. It was not her right. She sighed. Kushina's face in the painting did not change. It was the same issue with Haruma's painting. The eyes. The eyes did not hold life. They were flat and two-dimensional. They were all wrong. Sakura furrowed her brow. She tore her eyes away from the face that had captivated her the moment she placed the name.

She could just make out a darker kimono, overlapping Kushina's white one slightly. Her hand moved to straighten the painting fully. She nearly threw the parchment away as if it burned her, in recoil. She became completely unaware of everything as she took in a mop of blond hair and a pair of blue eyes on a sun-kissed skin tone. A face she recognized.

"Minori-san." His name left her lips like a curse wrapped in a prayer.

She did not know how long she sat there on her heels. She lost circulation. Her shoulder ached as did her back. But she was unaware of it all. She was but a thought. A fragment of consciousness. She blinked slowly, unfocused, unthinking.

'Minori-san is the Master.'

Yellow hair as bright as the sun. Blue eyes as deep and unpredictable as the ocean.

'Minori-san is the Master.'

A voice that was like the wind. Gentle and reassuring but also strong and enveloping. All-encompassing.

'Minori-san is the Master.'

Shoulders that could withstand the weight of mountains.

'Minori-san is the Master.'

Arms that could be used as shields or as a vise.

'Minori-san is the Master.'

With a heart as warm as melted wax.

'Minori-san is Minato-sama.'

A laugh that can pull anyone from the depths of despair.

'Minori-sab is Kushina-sama's Minato.'

A calm disposition that could still raging storms.

'Minori-san is Naruto-kun's Father.'

Her palms were slick with the shame of her delusions in what she let herself believe. Even if she was not willing to admit it to herself. How could she possibly compete? How could she think she could compete? It was as if she was holding a candle to the sun, in her hubris. Kushina was the sun. And she was but a lit match. She was not even that. She was a spark that never even ignited.

She was a fool. And like a fool, she took a breath, folded the drawing, and tucked it into her kimono. Right next to the one she carried of her brother. She finished cleaning without a single thought running through her head. She welcomed the quiet. She welcomed the numbness. She had obtained inner peace and nirvana. All with her eyes wide open.

"Did you have fun at Nara-sama's house today, Naruto-kun?" Sakura asked the boy kindly. The boy had his mother's face and eye shape. And her mannerisms. Because he certainly was not like his father.

"Yeah!" Naruto beamed up at her. "Will we have a new story next time?"

"Maybe," she smiled through the pain in her heart. A pain that panged for him.

"Can you stay?" Naruto's eyes glittered with plea. He knew that face got him what he wanted. Nine times out of ten.

But this was the one. "No, Naruto-kun," Sakura lowered herself to her knees at his bedside before sitting on her heels. "You're a big boy. You're a brave boy. You'll be fine."

"Can you play with my hair? Just until I fall asleep?" He tried to curb his disappointment with the promise of something, anything.

It broke her heart but she shook her head. A dejected look settled on Naruto's face. "Why?" He asked in a small, small voice.

"Naruto-kun," she swallowed thickly. The answer was complicated. She did not know it entirely herself. She messed up. She crossed the lines. She blurred the lines. She has to be the one to set them straight again. It would hurt but it was for the best. It was for their best. "Do you remember a long time ago you asked me who I was talking to? That day you followed me?"

Naruto's face pulled into a look of concentration and he tried so hard to remember. He nodded.

Sakura opened her palms. She passed him a small portrait. "This is my brother. His name is Haruma. He was your age."

Naruto held the picture close to his eyes. "You have a brother?"

"I did," Sakura answered with a small smile. "He's gone far away like your Okaasan. When I miss him I talk to him," she pointed to the picture. "I talk to his picture. And I feel less lonely and sad. Sometimes." She reached into her kimono and pulled out a bigger sheet of paper. Browning and curling at the edges. "Next time you get sad or lonely, I want you to try it too." She handed it to him.

Naruto first looked at her face, searchingly, before he reached for the folded portrait. Her heart shattered and splintered, as fragile as glass, was in her throat as she waited. It hurt just to breathe. Naruto peered at the picture. A lone tear sat at the edge of his eye.

"Okaasan," he knew instantly. His little hands smoothed the sheet. "Okaasan," he repeated with more certainty, with familiarity. "Okaasan," he looked at her with his mouth open and his eyes wide. "She's so pretty."

"Like a Hime," Sakura smiled at him. It was a grimace. He did not notice. His eyes were back on the portrait, trained to his mother's face.

"You have to keep it a secret, Naruto-kun. That you have this," she tucked away the portrait of her brother back near her heart. "Otherwise it could be taken away."

"No!" He cradled it protectively to his chest. "I won't say anything! Promise." He breathed with conviction forged from desperation.

"I know you won't," she rose to her feet. "Goodnight, Naruto-kun." She stood in the doorway to take one last look at the boy drinking in the picture with such greed, that it reminded her of a fish drinking water. It was a necessity. He did not even have to think twice about it. What he held in his hands was his whole world at that moment.

Everything was calm and quiet as she walked back to her room. She did not even mind the presence of the guard. Nothing bothered her. Nothing was really of her concern anymore. Her movements were mechanical. She removed her shoes. She stepped into her quarters. She closed the door. Sakura grabbed the largest jar she had and unceremoniously dumped the contents of it onto her desk. The jar was lowered onto the floor with a thud. She opened the top drawer of her desk. She pulled out opened envelopes. She shoved them uncaringly into the glass jar. A match was struck. A lick of flame flickered to life. It burned the pages and ink until there was nothing left but ash.

She breathed in it deeply. Filling her lungs with it until it was unbearable. She coughed. Her eyes watered. No tears flowed as she covered the jar with its lid. The flame starved until there was only thick gray smoke. The smell lingered heavily like a foreboding fog.

The breeze under the massive cherry blossom tree was warm and welcoming. Her hair danced in it. Pink tresses under a rain of pink Sakura petals. Light and soft. Just like the smile on her face as she peered up through the branches. The sun kissed her face and skin over and over in the form of refracted light. She held up her hand to the beams as if trying to catch them. Another hand, tanner and bigger, took it as an invitation. It wrapped around hers. Fusing their limbs and appendages together into a single unit.

"Is this one of mine or yours?" She asked him, fighting the pull of sleep.

"You dream about me?" He did not bother hiding the glee that her words brought forth in him.

"Sometimes," she answered with a coy smile. Her chest moved up and down and she elongated her breath. "Always." She answered truthfully.

"I feel less foolish now." Their joined hands settled between them on the lush grass peeking through a carpet of pink.

"You, Minato, are a lot of things but a fool is not one of them," she turned slowly on her side. Her green eyes were brighter than any naturally occurring color in nature. A marvel in their own right. If eyes were the window to the soul, her soul was unblemished. Pure in vibrancy and color.

"You make me want to be a fool," he traced the curve of her face, the plumpness of her pink, pink lips with his thumb.

"So all this is my fault," she raised two perfect brows. "Sounds to me like you're avoiding taking responsibility for your role in all this."

"My role?" He asked through half-lidded eyes and a blizzard of pink. He brushed the petals from her face with a hand that was surprisingly gentle considering how easily it could take life. She kissed the inside of his palm. The sensation of her touch trailed all the way to his elbow.

"You make me want to be a fool too, Minato." She breathed his name in a way that had him convinced he pronounced it wrong his entire life until she came around. Her jade eyes ensnared him into a trap he did not mind being in. Even if she were to cut him open and bleed him dry. He would go with a smile on his face.

"Let's be fools together then," he pressed his forehead to hers.

She smiled before pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose. She settled onto her back. Her hand, which was not in his, was pressed against her heart.

"If you're going to make me cry in the end, then don't make me laugh in the beginning." Her lips moved as his ears buzzed.

Blond brows furrowed together to form a bridge. "What?"

The sky turned a violent, volatile purple. A wind sharp enough to cut descended upon them. He watched as the petals buried her.

"Sakura!" He pushed up to a seated position. He could no longer feel her hand. It was as if she had simply disappeared. Becoming one with the light. He searched frantically on his hands and feet, shoveling aside piles of sakura petals.

"Sakura!" He called her name in a cry over the sound of the howling wind. It carried the petals away. Leaving nothing but grass and an empty tree behind. Which erupted into flame without warning.

His eyes snapped open. He was behind his breath. Chasing it desperately. The darkness and the quiet of his tent greeted him. The sound of Kakashi's shallow breathing to his left and Choza's snores to his right reminded him of what was real and what was all in his head.

A bead of sweat moved from his temple and dripped off his chin.

'Sakura.'

The white-haired man rubbed his neck. His conversing companion showed no interest in conversing or being a companion. In fact, she was diligently washing the laundry he had put in front of her. Laundry that was not even his own. He had restored to stripping the sheets from empty guest rooms because nearly everything he owned was cleaner than the day it was spun. She was withdrawn. Not all there. He had not seen her smile for days. Even the ones she gave the boy were fake. None of his attempts to rile her up solicited any form of response or reaction. She simply acted like he was not even there. Which, he was making it very hard to do.

"Sakura," he cleared his throat. He was intimidated by her silence. By the blank look in her eye. "Is this because of what I said about your Uncle?" His comments about Dan, a man he did not like very much had been off the cuff. He did not mean anything by them. Or maybe he did. "Do you want an apology? Is that what this is? The silent treatment is very immature of you. I didn't expect you to be such a girl about it."

She continued to scrub at the sheet as if she did not hear him.

"Sakura," he said her name in exasperation. "Fine, I'm sorry for what I said. Happy?" He uncrossed his arms. Her head was still bowed and her movements had faltered in the slightest. "What more do you want, woman?"

Silence greeted his impatient question. Just the sound of hands cleaning cloth. Water, soap, and skin.

"I'm not going to grovel if that's what you're angling for. I have some shame, I'll have you know." He peeked open one eye. More of the same. Only his self-respect was crumbling and her wall was as imposing as ever.

Jiraiya deflated. He was kidding himself. The quiet devastation to her had nothing to do with him.

Dreams of her stopped just as abruptly as they had started. The night of her first letter. That was when he first dreamed of her. And his last dream of her was over three days ago. He did not know what to make of that. All he knew was something that felt incomplete when he woke without any memory of having spoken to her over the course of the night. But he was hoping to change that. Today was letter day. And he was excited and anxious. He had asked her a question. She responded by asking for clarification. He gave it. He had a hope that today he would receive an answer.

They were stationed about thirty minutes from the border with the Land of Earth. Their guards were fortified with additional numbers. They awaited word. Minato awaited his fate. In an attempt to not drive himself crazy with the prospect of the wait, he was in his tent. Alone. Attempting to meditate. It was a struggle. Every thought seemed to take him home. Either it started with something that reminded him of Naruto that eventually brought Sakura to his mind. Or vice versa. The two faces, the two of them, plagued his thoughts wreaking havoc on his iron-clad discipline and control.

He could feel it slipping through his fingers. The prospect of peace, freedom from being forced away from his son, from his home. The harder he held on, the faster it seemed to run from him. He was not a believer in omens or superstition. He believed in what he could see. He believed in the will, power, and capabilities of self. But even he was having trouble shaking the images of the burning Sakura tree from his mind. It had lit up the purple sky. The fire was almost neon in color and brightness. And he had watched it burn down to cinders.

Cool air rustled through the cavity. Obsidian eyes were revealed. They locked on a familiar face.

"Mail," Kakashi held up brown envelopes in his hand.

Minato met him halfway. He smiled at the neat handwriting, the first was Naruto's. He frowned. There were only two. One from his son and one from Tomoha. He did not let the disappointment he felt show on his face.

"Is this everything?" His voice was not exactly as much in his control. It was not quite its usual frequency.

"No," Kakashi drawled.

Minato felt a kindling of hope spark to life deep in the pit of his stomach. It was blown out before it could become something when he recognized the seal on the last envelope that Kakashi held. It was after all, on the back of each of their helmets. The seal of the Emperor.

"That was a good lesson the other night, Sakura. Rin has sure come a long way." Miharu clapped the woman on the back. "I think I'm finally getting the hang of this writing business. It's a lot of work if you ask me."

Sakura's lips twitched ever so slightly in what could be interpreted as a smile.

"Is your tooth still bothering you?" Miharu's eyes crinkled with concern.

Sakura did not feel guilt for the lie she spread. It was easier than to answer their questions about why she was the way she was. It was only fair. Everyone had been lying to her for months now. The jokes, the teasing, the innuendo. All of it. Making her to be a fool.

And a fool she was. She missed everything. All the signs. All the inconsistencies. She stuck her head in the sand. She was stupid. She was dumb. She was blind. She deserved it all. She had been blissful in her ignorance. Now she was the main attraction in a parade of fools.

Sakura nodded her head. She pressed her fingertips to the side of her mouth for good measure.

"Maybe you should see the Sensei," Miharu suggested reluctantly.

"Can I just have another sip?" Sakura made sure to make herself look as pitiful as possible.

Miharu's face pinched together but it relaxed a moment later. "Sure." The woman moved to the cabinet that was at the far wall of the kitchen. She pulled out a clear jar containing a cloudy liquid. It was translucent in the silver moonlight. "Be sure to lock up." Miharu patted the woman on her shoulder and left her in the kitchen.

The blatant display of trust would have warmed Sakura's heart at one time. Her dishonesty would have filled her with guilt. But that was before. Before she was capable of feeling anything other than numbness. Sakura brought the jar to her lips. She took a swing, throwing her head back. Her lungs burned and her eyes watered. She took a couple of deep breaths before she repeated the dance two more times. She filled the jar with water, replacing what she drank before tucking it away in the cabinets. Hidden from those who did not know to look for it. She swayed slightly as she walked to her quarters. Her sandals were held in her hands. They made too much noise in the dead of the night.

She was asleep before her head hit her pillow. She had drank just enough to repel him from her thoughts.

She looked around the room - the room the Master and his late wife shared - with frantic eyes. Drawers were pulled, closets were emptied, and the mattress was turned on its side. She had even gotten on her hands and knees to check under the heavy four-poster bed frame. All for naught. She could not find it. It was her third time looking. Her panic and desperation fueled each search. But like the previous two, she was empty-handed. It was not where it was supposed to be. It was not where she left it last.

Tomoha tore through the hallway, barely even acknowledging Sakura and the Young Master who were reviewing for his upcoming exam with a tool Sakura called 'flashcards'. Truth be told, it sounded like something Jiraiya would pull but if it worked, it worked. She had to find it before their anniversary day.

She took a deep breath and started to look through the storage room, hoping she had overlooked it somehow in all her previous searches.

"Sensei!" She was in the courtyard doing laundry when her green eyes softened with recognition. "Come in! Come in! Come in!" She sang in a voice that was close to music.

"Haruno-san," he spoke over the squeal of the gate. "How is Haruno-san?"

"Better! So much better!" She beamed at him as she hurried to place a cup of water in his hands. She wiped down a stool with the end of his sleeve for him to sit down.

"Sensei!" A voice bellowed. It was jovial and loud. Kabuto jumped a little. Water landed on his hand.

Kizahis's smiling face leaning against his cane was a sight for sore eyes. Kabuto's smile grew in size.

Sakura tilted her head back, preventing what he intended to do from taking place. His hand caressed air instead of the delicate skin that lived underneath her eye.

"Are you sad, Sakura?" Naruto asked her with a pout. He had no interest in hearing a story he had heard many times before.

"I'm not sad, Naruto-kun. Just tired." Sakura assured him.

Naruto squinted. "I've been talking to my Okaasan and Tochan like you told me!" He grinned at her. "I haven't had a bad dream since!"

"I'm so glad," her smile was genuine in her relief for the boy. "Just in time too. We have your exam tomorrow."

Naruto scowled. "You'll still be there?"

"Right outside," Sakura said with a nod. "Be sure to get a good night's sleep okay? And eat all your breakfast. And -"

"Do my best," Naruto sighed. "I know."

It took everything not to ruffle his hair. "Good boy."

"Will Tochan be back soon?" Naruto asked her with a sudden solemn demeanor.

"I'm not sure, Naruto-kun." Sakura tucked him in. "His letter will be here in a few days. You'll just have to be patient."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Naruto." She watched as the boy pulled out the portrait from under his pillow.

"Night-night, Tochan." He kissed the picture of his father.

"Night-night, Okaasan." He kissed his mother.

"Night-night, Sakura." Naruto settled back into his pillows after tucking the picture away safely.

She wanted to cry and smile at the same time. She could do neither so she just left.

Her stomach was in her toes. Her head was swimming and her heart was sluggish. She was a whole host of ailments and there was nothing she could do about it because it was emotional and mental. Not even remotely in her wheelhouse. She alternated between pacing, squatting, and leaning against the outer wall of the main house. She was worried if she got too close to Naruto with her frantic energy he would feel it and make mistakes he would normally not.

She still wanted him to do well but she would be lying to herself if it was for the same reason. It was not. She wanted him to do well so that he would build confidence in himself. She wanted him to continue down this path of growing and learning as he came to become his own person. Knowledge was his way forward. Education to grow his worldview. His initial school years were important for building a foundation.

The door opened. He came running to her. She stood up. He latched onto her knees. Her heart sank. Sakura looked wordlessly at the grim-looking Tomoha and the scorn on Sensei-Chinen's face. Her brows asked the question on her mind.

"He passed." The sensei looked as if the words physically hurt him to say.

Sakura, still in a state of disbelief, looked down. The boy was beaming at her with more radiance than the still-warming March sun. "I did it, Sakura!" The pride in his voice was palpable. It made a smile blossom on her face.

"Yes you did," she ruffled her hair before she really thought it through. "I'm so proud of you."

"Can we go get ramen?" He asked happily. "Can we? Can we?" He was not above begging. His ego and sense of pride had not developed to include that limitation yet.

"You can go with your Jiichan," Sakura said with forced cheeriness.

Naruto's cheeks all but deflated at her words. "Ah, man!"

"Your Tochan will take you when he comes back," Tomoha called out in an attempt to avoid a building tantrum.

Sakura's heart seized her in her chest on account of her blood running cold.

'His Tochan is going to come back.'

"Well," a rough voice cleared its throat. The two women and the boy looked at the Sensei. "As per our agreement, the boy is all yours."

The words hit her like a nail, right through her chest. Each one was another blow.

Naruto's happy utterances were blocked out by her ears. All their voices were unintelligible to her as the earth seemed to stop spinning for her. Naruto tugged at her sleeve for her attention. She blinked slowly at him, unrecognizingly. He spoke through a large smile. She did not hear a word.

She could not imagine leaving the boy. But she could not imagine still being here when the Master came back. She did not have the right face to face him. She inhaled sharply. The nail twisted in her chest.

"Be good for your Jiichan," she tugged his brown hat in place.

"I don't want to go," Naruto whined. "Why can't I stay?" Tradition, that was the answer. Every year since Naruto turned three, Jiraiya took him on a vacation before his parent's anniversary. Sakura had a feeling that it was Tomoha's idea. She got the boy out of her hair so that she could pull all the stops for whatever this memorial entailed.

"Shh," she adjusted his haori. She checked his layers to ensure they were all in place to provide him with warmth. "If your Jiichan hears you, you'll hurt his feelings."

"So?" Naruto scrunched his nose.

"It's not nice to hurt someone's feelings. If you can help it, it's better not to hurt someone's feelings." She grumbled as she checked his pockets and fastened his gloves.

"I thought I'm not supposed to lie." Naruto tilted his head and stared at her with eyes shaped like Kushina but colored like Mino-Minato's. Minato's.

"Lying is bad. Lying is very bad. Lying can hurt someone a lot. Lying can be very painful." She looked him dead in the eye. "But so does being mean. If it's not nice, don't say it at all. This trip is important. Your Jiichan is looking forward to spending time with you. It's only a few days. And when you get back, it will be your parents' anniversary. You know what that means right?"

Naruto grinned and nodded his head. "Sweets!"

Sakura sighed. "Close enough." She rose to her feet.

"Can I get a hug please?" He held open his arms.

Sakura bit the inside of her cheek.

'Don't give in. You're just making everything harder.'

"I'm going to be gone for three whole days!" He wiggled three fingers. His face was so full of hope and expectation and his little lip was pulled into a pout and his eyes looked oh so sad.

Sakura sighed. "Get in here." He did not hesitate. She bent down to wrap her arms around him. The sneaky gremlin pecked her on the cheek.

"Bye, Sakura!" He ran off before she even registered what happened. He tucked his hand into Jiraiya's who was waiting just outside the gate. The white-haired man held out his hand and the boy jumped up to meet his palm with his. The grin that Jiriaya spared her as the gate was closing was pure evil.

"I'll bring you back a present, Sakura!" Naruto's voice called out over the gate and over the sound of yet another crack forming in her heart.

"Smooth kid, I couldn't have taught you to do better myself!" Jiraiya's voice had simply too much pride for the situation.

Sakura and Rin filed into the dining hall. The solemn faces matched their own. It was not early enough for breakfast and it was not late enough for dinner. Something was happening. Something was different and Sakura's stomach churned with uneasiness. With each passing cycle, it felt as if her nausea only grew. Rin was standing closer than necessary. Every time Sakura moved, she bumped into the girl. They stood in the middle of the room. She tried to catch Uka's eyes but the woman was wringing her hands and looking down at her feet. Sakura felt a pang of sympathy for her. Uka did not do well with change or any form of stress really. The woman was very high-strung.

Maybe she had a good reason to be. The room was lined with guards. Sakura tried to keep her eyes from accidentally catching one of theirs. Most seemed to be wearing scowls. They were not pleased to be pulled from their usual posts and routine.

The murmurs were low. The trepidation was high. The hairs on her neck felt like they could stand on end at any point. Her hand found Rin's shoulder almost subconsciously. The girl slid closer in response. She watched silently as Tomoha entered the room. She heard a ringing in her right ear as the sound of feet shuffling and a tapping of a cane bounced off the walls of the hall. She stiffened. Rin looked back at her with concern in her brown eyes. She turned her head at the sound of Tomoha clearing her throat.

"I've asked," Tomoha's eyes were flat without any semblance of familiarity as they scanned the room of fifteen or so faces. "You to be here today to make an announcement." Sakura's skin broke out in goosebumps in response to Tomoha's frigid tone. Her words were a blizzard of chill. It left her nearly shaking to the bone.

"Kushina-sama's hair clip is missing."

The air deflated, it sank to the floor. Sakura's eyes widened.

"The one she wore at her wedding. It was her favorite. All of you who have been here for over a year are familiar with it. It was a gift given to her by the Master specifically for their matrimonial ceremony."

She furrowed her brow. She closed her eyes and tried to recall what the portrait looked like. She had seen hair pins and smaller clips in the box with the kimono. Each one was accounted for when she left. Her mind's eye focused on the way her red hair was styled, atop her head in spirals. It was pinned in place by - a large gold clip, in the shape of a cluster of flowers. It had rubies and diamonds that dangled from it. It was beautiful. It was also not in the box. She had searched every inch of it.

Her hand started to tremble. She needed to speak with Tomoha that the clip was not there four days ago when she had done the cleaning. They could build a timeline. They could still find the culprit if the compound was sealed off in time. A clip like that would draw attention. It also had the Namikaze house crest, the same one they wore on their kimonos granting passage in and out on Sundays, on it. Any self-respecting jeweler would recognize it. Maybe there was a chance that the person who stole it did not have a chance to sell it yet. There was still hope. She tried to catch Tomoha's eyes but the woman was committed to scanning the crowd of faces.

"Until the clip is returned or found, there will be no coming and going out of the main gate. You will not be allowed outside your room after dinner. Plan accordingly. Do not be surprised if the guards stop you and ask to see your possessions. For the women, they cannot search you. If they suspect you, you will be detained and held until I can do the search myself."

"Now, I am not interested in why or how. I have a proposal. If the person who stole it returns it in the next twelve hours, there will be no punishment. Return it anonymously and spare yourself the shame of being dishonored. The punishment for theft is steep."

"The punishment," Danzo stepped forward. Making Sakura's inside chill, "will be left to my discretion if the clip does not turn up in twelve hours from now. This is your first and only warning. If the clip is not returned, your life is at my mercy."

Sakura shuddered.

The boots clopping outside her door were like booming fireworks in her head. Speaking to Tomoha was out of the question. Two guards at all times were patrolling the halls. They had been given permission to question even the slightest of sounds. How someone was supposed to return the clip anonymously to the altar that was set up, was beyond her. Unless the expectation was that during work hours someone slipped into the main compound and set it where it belonged. At the top of the altar, resting on a red pillow of silk.

She could not believe someone would do such a thing. What their motives were and what they can hope to gain. There was gold all over the compound. Gold coins had anonymity. Gold coins were easy to move. It was not great that she knew so much but she liked to read. She read what she could. Including the mystery novels, her father loved so much. There was some truth to the wild scenarios posed in the pages of those books.

"Maybe I can slip a note to her!" Sakura's face brightened. She slapped a hand over her mouth remembering that there were people just outside her door. She shuffled to her desk on her toes, trying to minimize sound. She dared not light a match lest they see shadows through the door. She fumbled around for paper and her brush. She pressed it against the wall, trying desperately to frame the sheet of paper in a moonbeam that was lazily leaking into her room through the small window. She began to scribble away, ignoring the way the ink blotted her fingers and the skin of her hand.

Loud choruses of voices singing off-key and out of tune rang all around. It was official. The war was over. For real this time. The Emperors of the lands had met and signed the treaty. Just this morning. The five-year war with Earth was no more. The war in actuality had spanned close to six years but history was rarely accurate. And the five-year war sounded better than the almost-six-year war.

"Can you believe," Inoichi hiccuped, "this guy," he gestured to Minato who was currently under his arm. "Single-handedly ended the war?"

"Bringer of peace!" Choza bowed down deeply which caused more giggles of merriment to erupt.

"To peace!" Cups clanked all around the camp.

"You heard it from me first, gentlemen, and Uchiha…the next Shogun of the Land of Fire!" Inoichi bellowed over the table drums that Choza was playing.

It took all of Minato's self-control to keep his left eye from twitching. That was the extent of his discipline. Even his involuntary movements were well within his purview of control.

"We're going to be official advisors to the Shogun. In his court!" Choza's eyes gleamed like stars as he threw food in his mouth aggressively. Excited at the prospect of a good, hearty meal and the promise of many, many more.

"Kami, help us." Shikaku trapped his fingers to his forehead. His face lost color as he pictured it.

"A little thick there with the praise, Yamanaka," Fugaku ground out in a not quite bitter manner. The way he was pinching the bridge of his nose indicated that he was sporting a nasty headache already. "And incredibly premature."

"It's true," Inoichi almost sang with happiness. "We get to go home because of you. Because the balls - the balls - on this guy to defy a direct order of the Shogun. To Minato's balls of steel." He held up his cup.

"I'm not drinking to that," Kakashi pointed out in a drawl.

"I would prefer if no one drank to that," Minato grumbled as he shrugged out of Inocihi's grip.

"Are you not drinking?" Choza hiccuped. "Don't tell me, you're pregnant." His face was red with a flush from his happiness and alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol.

Minato rolled his eyes.

"Is that any way to speak to the hero who ended the five-year war?" Kakashi came to his defense. The look in his dark eyes promised trouble. Kakashi paused dramatically only to rapid fire his next sentence. "He did just daddy all of Earth though." Kakashi grinned from ear to ear. "Minato now has a whole battalion of sons!"

"Many congratulations," Inoichi cheered jovially. "Judging from the way they ran at the mere sight of you, they don't like you very much." He added solemnly.

"Minato never had that problem with the ladies. In fact, it would have come in handy back in Konoha." Kakashi winked at him. "Look at this face. Such a good face."

Minato scowled and batted Kakashi's hands from his cheeks. "You're drunk." He shoved the Hatake off of him none-to-gently.

"And you're boring," Inoichi twirled a chicken leg in his hand. "We get to go home." He sighed in a great deal of contentment. "I can picture it."

"Just in time for the next wave of babies!" Choza cheered.

"To future generations!" Kakashi staggered to his feet. "I need a wife."

"You need water," Minato answered as he poured Kakashi a glass.

"Water is for losers!" Choza bellowed. "Bring forth rivers of Sake!"

"Why don't I have a wife?" Kakashi peered around the table. He pointed to each face with an unfocused gaze before his finger settled on himself. "Am I really the only one who's never been married?" He asked incredulously. He slammed his hand on the table causing everyone to lean back. "How the hell does that happen?"

"Actions meet consequences," Inoichi answered blandly. "You can't find a wife in a brothel."

"I mean, you could." Choza scratched his chin. "Might work out really well for you, Kakashi. Looks like we finally found one upside to being under Namikaze Minato's shadow. No one cares who you marry. "

Kakashi waved Choza's suggestion down. "You people don't understand just how bleak it is out there. I can't wrap my head around how little lack of thought you put into it. Minato married the first girl he talked to…ever."

"I met my wife on my wedding day," Fugaku grunted.

"My point exactly. That is crazy." Kakashi raked a hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "I take longer to pick what I'm going to wear for the day than some of you took to pick your wives."

"We wear the same things," Shikaku pointed out.

Kakashi held up his hand. "See?"

"It worked out for the best," Fugaku said with a shrug. "Both of us made a choice to be together and everything came after all stemmed from that."

"Lucky, you" Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "Not all of us come from well-connected clans that prefer to keep things…connected." He paused to consider a scenario that came to mind. "Actually, does Mikoto-san have a sister because," Kakashi whistled. "I would marry her blind too."

Minato rubbed his face tiredly, repressing a sigh. The tips of Fugaku's ears turned red.

"I'm not drunk enough for this shit," Fugaku grabbed the nearest white bottle of sake and downed it in one go.

"We can talk about wives now?" Shikaku quipped with disbelief.

"Minato's not depressed anymore," Kakashi supplied rather flippantly. "Anyway back to me, why don't I have a wife?"

"Kami, kill me now," Shikaku rubbed his forehead. His elbow was propped up on the table and his head bowed. "My headache has a headache."

"I got the fix for that," Inoichi poured him a glass. A third of the sake ended up on the table before spilling down to Shikaku's pants. "Drink up. It's medicine." The man offered his scowling friend a lopsided smile.

"Lost another one," Minato grumbled. His lips tugged downward when he saw Shikaku being coaxed into drinking by an encouraging Inoichi and Choza from the corner of his eye.

"Do you even want a wife, Kakashi?" Choza daftly brought up the conversation again much to the dismay of a very sober Minato.

"It would be nice to have the option." Kakashi made a reflective face.

"Even Iruka has a wife." Inoichi shared the latest gossip. "Has a girl back home waiting for him." He scrunched his eyebrows. "Fiance." He corrected himself.

"I-Iruka?" Kakashi sputtered half standing. Minato pulled him down by the elbow. The Hatake was not fazed. "Iruka can't even grow a beard. He's a fetus."

"He's seventeen." Shikaku shrugged. "You're just old." He ran his fingers through his lush goatee. "You can't grow a beard either." He pointed out which resulted in a chorus of laughter around the table.

"Not my point. He's a fetus! A fetus! How does a fetus get married before me?" Kakashi's eyes blazed with indignation at the injustice of it all.

"Kakashi, stop saying fetus," Minato said through clenched teeth.

"Why isn't Minato de-depressed?" Shikaku slurred. Inoichi topped off his sloshing drink some more. He was too far for Minato to reach from his seated position. So he settled for scowling at the sandy blond to which Inoichi grinned widely in response.

"Minato's got someone waiting too. She's pretty. A little on the skinny side though."

It was at that moment Minato wondered if it was morally wrong to punch Kakashi in the teeth. The man was having trouble keeping his head steady as is.

"Is she the one Yoshino wrote that Naruto won't stop talking about?" Shikaku pinched his face together in a look of concentration. "She's named after a flower right? Sa...Sa..-"

"Sakura," Fugaku nodded definitively to the surprise of everyone.

Minato's brows shot up. "How do you know about her?" There was something earthy in his voice, almost raw.

"Mikoto," Fugaku sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Her last letter she kept going on and on about her. You'd think it was a print ad the way she was 'Sakura-chan this', 'Sakura-chan that', 'Sakura-chan likes…' I had to stop reading for the sake of my sanity." He blinked at different intervals. "Women." He shook his head.

"When did Uchiha-san meet her?" The question came out before he thought it through. All eyes were on him.

"They had tea together at the compound. Weeks ago." Fugaku belched. "Why are we talking about this fluffy bullshit?"

"Why were they having tea?" Minato did not know what to feel. He needed more information. It was a surprise they knew about her almost as surprise as the fact that their wives wrote about her.

"It's obvious," Shikaku's slur over his drawl was making it that much harder to understand him.

Kakashi and Fugaku nodded their heads in agreement.

"Can someone explain it to me?" Inoichi held up a hand. His blue eyes bright at the prospect of new juicy gossip.

"His son," Kakashi pointed to Minato with his thumb, "is smitten with her."

"As is the woman who raised him," Fugaku pointed out. "And my wife for what it's worth."

"And that means something Tomoha-san doesn't like anyone. Anyone." Kakashi piled on. "Mikoto-san less so. She gets along with everyone. I mean, she married this guy." Kakashi clapped the Uchiha on the shoulders.

Fugaku took a wild swing, missing everything but air. Minato hid his disappointment. It was less morally wrong for Kakashi to get decked by a fellow drunkard.

"She liked Kushina-san." Choza felt happy and giddy at being able to contribute again. "Ambe-san, not Uchiha-san. Obviously," he snorted. "Uchiha-san and Kushina-san were best friends."

"Can we stop with the comparisons?" Minato's eyes narrowed but they were far too drunk to heed the warning sign.

"Everyone likes her, hell even his damn horse likes her." Kakashi's glass danced in the air as he swayed. "Sakura, I'm talking about Sakura. Kaminari liked Kushina too."

Minato inwardly groaned.

"No way." Inoichi brought his hands to his cheeks.

"I like her too," Kakashi added. "Again, I mean Sakura." He paused. "And Kushina too obviously." He held up a hand to Minato's face. "Not like that. Don't punch me again." He hiccuped. "Anyway. So everyone likes her. And this guy says he doesn't know."

"What don't you know, Minato?" Choza asked in a voice layered with marvel and confusion. "Does she not know how to cook? I can see that being a deal breaker if my wife didn't cook it wouldn't work out no matter how good she was in the bed-"

A well-placed glare and spike in killer intent had Choza shoving a chicken leg in his mouth before he could put the rest of his foot there.

"Kisame is married." Inoichi spoke up.

"What?" Kakashi hissed. "He's not even a normal people color. He's blue! He's the color of a corpse!"

"Kami," Shikaku swatted at Kakashi. "You can't say stuff like that Kakashi! What is wrong with you?"

"I guess it really is true. As long as you have all your limbs and both your eyes, you can find a wife." Fugaku snorted with a smirk. "So what is wrong with you, Kakashi?"

The Hatake scowled.

"Kisame goes to brothels all the time. He does not bother to hide it. His wife is fine with it." Inoichi threw his drink back and bared his teeth. "Ahh!"

"I would be too if it meant not being under that man." Kakashi shuddered. "See? I'm so compassionate and sympathetic. Where's my wife?"

Minato sighed subtly. He should not have bothered. They were too far gone.

"Everything is spinning," Fugaku groaned as he set his head on the table, next to his plate of half-eaten food. He was snoring not even two minutes later. Loudly.

"We should shave his eyebrow," Inoichi said as he wiggled his brows.

"I'll go get a katana," Kakashi slapped the heel of his palm to his forehead. "I have one right here," he pulled it out of his sleeve.

Minato snatched it from his unsuspecting fingers before Kakashi could blink. "No." The blond said firmly. "I will be keeping this until you're sober enough to not slice off all your fingers and Fugaku's skin."

Kakashi pouted. "Yes, Otosama."

Bile rose in the back of Minato's throat at his pseudo-brother's retort.

"What happened to my drink?" Shikaku frowned. "Did you drink it?" He pointed an accusatory finger in Inoichi's direction.

"No," Inoichi said gently.

"What happened to it?" Shikaku's voice was small.

"Fugaku is wearing it," Minato pointed out.

"Oh," Inoichi and Shikaku said in unison. They leaned on each other. Shikaku's soft snores joined Fugaku's.

"The dark-haired gang can't keep up," Kakashi grinned. "I'm not even tipsy." Alcohol dribbled off his chin without him noticing.

"I can't see my face," Inoichi said in a concerned tone. "Guys, I can't see my face."

This time MInato did groan. They would be annihilated if Earth attacked right now. But the newly signed treaty bought them some time. He hoped it was enough to bring the start of meaningful change.

Minato looked around the faces trying to find the least shit-faced one. "Hyuga-san," he nodded to Hiashi. "Can you keep an eye on them? Make sure they don't do something that you wouldn't?"

Hiashi snorted. "Too late for that."

"Maybe something can be salvaged of it." He smiled easily.

"Anything for the bringer of peace," Hiashi smirked at him.

"You too, Hyuga-san?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Credit where credit is due. We get to go home because of you," he bowed his head in gratitude. "Leave them to me and Hizashi. He's still upright. Mostly."

"Thank you." He did not stay in the tent a moment more than necessary.

He left track marks in the snow of his path. As the familiar scent of day-old hay and damp earth filled his nose, warmth rose in him. Kaminari's white head peeked out of the stall. Minato's hand went right under the beast's chin. The horse nickered as he received his beloved chin scratches. He lifted his head higher, giving Minato an even better angle.

The calm he readily welcomed. Like a positive influence, he wanted it to still his mind. His mind, his nature, did not allow him to focus on the fact that his advisory was no more. The war was over. Now was the time to rejoice. He should be amongst his friends getting drunk until oblivion greeted him. There were no thoughts in oblivion. Only darkness. But to get there he would have to drink. Alcohol would only serve to make him more anxious. He was not devastated by the lack of it in his veins. It did not work as it used to anyway. Not since he drank from the green pools of her eyes all those weeks ago - what felt like a lifetime ago.

"What do you think she's doing?" He asked the white stallion in a gentle voice, low as if not to disturb the other horses.

"All I had were dreams and letters and now I have neither." He put forth what was weighing on him into the air. The drunken stupor of his friends rang in his head.

Kaminari blew air out of his nose in sympathy.

Twelve hours came and went. No one came forth and the red silk pillow lay on the altar completely unadorned. It was naked in its shame. Sakura had been unable to have even a moment to see Tomoha much less try to pass her a note. Even Miharu claimed the same. The cook's advice to Sakura had been to not push it and to not do anything to draw attention to herself so she kept her head down despite the fact that the unease that bubbled up inside of her threatened to make her airborne. She went about her chores as if it were any other day. Any other day where it was nearly impossible to breathe due to the exhaust generated by everyone's collective unsettlement.

When she was summoned, about three hours after breakfast her knees were jelly and her arms felt like they were carved from marble. Sakura dropped everything she was doing and followed after a guard. She was escorted back to her room. It was her turn for her room to be checked. She stood there with her hands clasped, head bowed, and bone dry throat, unable to say anything to the stern-expression woman with salt and pepper hair. Sakura looked down at her feet while a guard, a different one that was standing next to her, searched her room. Her person was already deemed 'clean.' It was nearly impossible to not fidget under the cold, cold, cold scrutiny of Danzo's one good eye. She felt like she was a fly caught in his web. Only she did not know it yet.

Her feelings were only validated once the guard emerged from her room holding the hair clip in his hands. The air completely left her lungs.

Tomoha watched as the color drained from Sakura's face. The woman looked like she was about to pass out. Her first instinct was to grab her and steady her but before she could even open her mouth, Sakura was being restrained by two guards. A look of pure terror crossed over the pinkette's face before she was all but dragged away by the men.

'He knows! He knows! He knows!'

Her brain's epiphany was a little too little and a little too late. Much too late. Danzo had noticed Sakura. He noticed her long ago. Maybe even that day he asked about her and she so foolishly thought nothing of it. He played the long game. He waited until she was alone and vulnerable. There was no Minato, no Jiraiya, or even no Naruto to protect her. And Tomoha let it happen. She let Minato galavant as Minori with Sakura out in the open. She let Naruto have his way and instances to have Sakura near. She did not even scold Jiraiya too much for his next-to-daily interactions with her. Because of Tomoha, Sakura was put in Danzo's crosshairs.

The sound of his cane scraping across the ground jolted her to action.

"Shimura-sama," she nearly dropped to her knees in front of him. She bowed her head. "There has to be a mistake." Tomoha stammered.

"It was because of your incompetence that this happened. Do not compound one mistake with another. Ambe," He sneered.

"Shimura-sama," she pleaded frantically. She pressed her palms into the dirt. Her forehead touched the ground right in front of his feet. "Please wait for Jiraiya-sama to come back. It is just a matter of two days. That's all I ask -"

"Ambe," his voice was like smoke. It burned. It coated everything. It was bad for anyone's well-being given long enough exposure. It lingered. "As servants to this house, we both have our roles and our defined parameters. I suggest you stay within yours."

She closed her eyes. He was right. While she may be in charge of managing the staff he was in charge of managing the house. Especially with the Master and Jiraiya gone. This was his jurisdiction. He could do with Sakura what he willed. He was well within his rights. Rights given to him by Namikaze Naoto. A man, not known for being forgiving.

She rose and stood like a tree, rooted in place, as Danzo left her in his dust. She searched the compound frantically. Her eyes came to rest on the gate. The very gate that was heavily guarded. The gate that even she could not open not until Danzo commanded it. She could not get to the aviary to send out a message to Minato and Kakashi via the war bird. She could not even go to Lee to hastily deliver a message to Jiraiya. Everywhere she turned she could only see the things she could not do.

Her hand shook as she gripped her throat. There was nothing she could do.

'I didn't steal it!'

The walls of her mind screamed as one of the guards dragged her by her hair. Pained gasps left her mouth. Tears stung in her eyes. She wanted to scream but she was too terrified too. She did the one thing Tomoha told her not to, she drew Danzo's attention and now she was paying for it. She was shoved harshly forward. She landed painfully on her knees. Every bone in her body rattled on impact. Her teeth gnashed together. She did not pick herself up from the floor. Her pink hair fell over her shoulders, dusting the ground. It was dark and smelled of mildew where she was. She blinked desperately trying to get her eyes to adjust. There was only a small sliver of light.

Danzo's eye glittered at her in the dark. She wondered for a split second if it was made of glass. She gasped in unadulterated fear as the sound of a metal door closing behind her registered in her ears. Nearly all the light was gone. A whimper left her throat. She does not see the first blow coming. All she felt was blinding pain. Across her back. It is fast, solid, harsh, and unbelievably painful. It knocks her flat on her front. Face in the dirt. The taste of metal in her mouth. Blood trailed down her chin. She was dazed so she did not feel the second blow as severely as the first. But she was propelled off the ground a couple of inches. She cried out. He did not listen. He did not say anything. He only grunted. She felt herself being cut open. Blood began to soak her brown kimono. Every time a bead of his sweat rolled down from his nose to land on her open wounds she cried.

She lost track of time. He beat her. Again and again and again. She lost consciousness. It was mercy. It did not last long. He slapped her face. He threw water on her. He awakened her each and every time and beat her some more. He liked to hear her scream. She screamed but she did not beg. She did not deny the allegation. Sakura curled her hand in the earth. The dagger on her hip ate into her skin with each strike. Her skin was tender. Bruised from the friction and the pressure. She gagged on the dirt that mixed into a paste with blood and saliva in her mouth. He did not relent. She did not have the strength to lift her head. Her breathing sounded wet, it was labored. Her face was streaked with tears and dirt and sweat and blood. Her own blood.

The sound of something breaking resonated in the small room. He left. He needed a break. His arms and back had grown tired. She did not dare to try to move. She did not have the bravery to even try. It hurt to breathe. Each time she blinked, her body was on fire. She passed out, embraced by the darkness.

His back protested as he pulled himself up onto his feet. The bitch broke his cane. He had spent the better part of nearly twenty minutes hunched over swinging his cane up and down. Up over his head, down on her back. She squirmed like the roach she was every time he struck her. Her cries that had started off so clear and strong had become hoarse and muddled. It was music to his ears. At least, it had been in the beginning.

The longer it stretched out the more frustrating it became. She did not beg him to stop. She didn't plead for her life. She did not ask for mercy. She took half the fun out of everything. He was not one to overindulge himself. She was not going to break this way. He would have to change tactics. As fun as this was, he did not have unlimited time. He needed her gone. He needed her gone fast.

He inserted the silver key in the padlock. The chain fell heavily to the ground. The silver lock slid open. He pulled the tin door toward him. An hour was more than enough time for her to think about her predicament. Maybe now she would be more malleable. More susceptible to reason.

He closed the door behind him, clicking it into place. He placed the lantern - already lit - on the hook in the shed.

Her kimono was darkened with blood spots. Some of them were still wet and some dry. She was breathing labored but it was more or less keeping pace. He kicked her foot, her sandals had been lost somewhere in the courtyard when the guards dragged her in. She did not respond.

"Get up," he kicked her in the shin. Again her leg rocked slightly but there was no response.

Danzo leaned down. He grabbed a fistful of pink hair and curled his nails into her scalp. "Get up before I do something to really degrade you."

Her eyes slowly blinked open. She looked at him with an unfocused gaze.

"Pink hair, what an abomination." He threw her head against the ground. She groaned.

Her tongue moved thickly over her split lip.

"You want this?" He gestured to the cup in his hands.

"W-w-water," she whispered.

"You want water?" Danzo asked her for clarification. "Speak up, I'm an old man."

"Water," her voice was clear and her eyes held his gaze.

"All you had to do was ask," he smirked at her. He crouched down. She raised her head pitifully off the ground a couple of inches, crying and wincing through. Her bottom lip trembled as the lip of the ceramic glass was just centimeters from her mouth. A desperate whimper left her lips as she closed her eyes in anticipation of the sweet relief water would bring to her parched throat.

Her eyes snapped open in horror as she watched the precious water drop to the ground in a steady stream helplessly just an inch from her face. It might as well have been a hundred miles.

"Still thirsty?" He grinned at her. He gestured to his legs. "I can give you a refill."

She turned her head away in disgust. "I didn't steal the clip." She said between gasps of breath.

"Does it matter?" He rose to his full height. Danzo pulled up a stool and regarded her. "It's your word against what everyone saw."

"You planted it."

"You're not as dumb as you look." He scratched his head. "Tell me, what did you think was going to happen? You come into my house, do what you want, when you want, bat your eyelashes, make eyes at the widower, endear yourself to his kid, and take everything I worked for - decades before you were even an itch in your father's crotch - away from me?"

She blinked slowly. Her cheek was pressed up against the damp ground. She breathed through her mouth, shallowly. His voice was so loud. It nearly muted the pain.

"Did you think that you would have a home here? That you would be accepted here? When no one in your own village did? Not even your own parents." He took great pleasure in watching her stiffen. "Little girl," he taunted. "No one steps one foot in this house without me knowing everything about them. That money you figured out I was stealing? It has to go somewhere right? Money can buy everything. Loyalty. Memories. It can rewrite history." He picked her dried blood from his blunt nails.

"So Oni, you thought they would like you here? That you could fit right into a little ready-made family. That you would finally get what you so desperately needed and wanted? Love? Acceptance? Belonging?" He scoffed cruelly. It was a bitter sound like sandpaper on a rusty pipe.

He watched her eyelids flutter. "You are nothing. You are worse than nothing. You are trash. You scavenged the bones of a dead woman. You manipulated a little boy. You thought yourself so smart, didn't you? Tell me, did you like my little surprise for you?" Danzo smirked at her lethargic form. "The Master in his grief asked Tomoha to seal away all the pictures of his late wife. Before he left the compound. I was able to save one. The one you found. Quite a beauty wasn't she? She had a face that could start wars."

"You were nothing more than a plaything. Just something to keep his interest. Something to pass the time. He can have anyone. Himes with money. Himes with money and looks. Himes without baggage. What are you but a hideous eye sore? What do you think he will do when he sees your hair? The unnatural color that it is, Oni?"

"Did you honestly convince yourself that he will overlook the mark of the Devil? You didn't even spare the poor shaman who tried to warn your parents. The one who tried to prevent the calamity you caused. You killed her too. Didn't you, Oni?"

Her shoulders shook in a way that could only be aggravating her pain both mentally and physically. He relished it.

"You're a monster. You corrupt everything you touch. Every house you enter you lay waste to it. But let's say the Master is oblivious to that fact. Let's put that aside just for a moment. We'll come back to it."

"I want to clear any and all delusions you have. The Master prefers them beautiful. Regal. Of rich lineage and good blood. Good breeding stock. You could claim that too had it not been for that father of yours. The mutt, completely corrupted the Uzumaki and Senju blood in you. Useless. That is what you are. Wasted space. Wasted potential."

She was crying. He could see it in the way her back moved. The soft sniffles that reached his ears were his solace. It provided him with strength.

"You are the reason why your mother and even your mutt of a father, will no longer be able to lift their heads. Your virtue is gone. It doesn't matter if you ever lied with a man or not. You are questionable goods now. First the Master - my apologies, you know him as Minori - then the Sensei. You'd be lucky if a whorehouse accepted you."

Her sniffles grew into full-blow gasps as she struggled to regain control of herself.

"Your father, while having bad genes, was not a total waste. He fought for his country. He fought for the Land of Fire. He overcame his alcoholism for the war right? That is worth some praise. I wonder, when word of this gets out will he wish even harder that his daughter died instead of his son?"

She was sobbing loudly now. It would not take much to make her hyperventilate. She was close to being broken. He just needed a little more.

"Did you forget Oni? About your circumstances? The blood on your head? Or did you not care? As long as you get what you want. Does devastating families bring you a sense of fulfillment, Demon? Do you feel stronger with every male that you kill? Your uncle, your brother? Your father is already on his deathbed. Hanging on by his sheer stubbornness. Who's next? The Master?" He grinned cruelly, enjoying the way her sobs filled the space between his bones. "The boy? Naruto…?"

"Stop," she begged him. "Please," her voice was shards of anguish compacted into a frequency. "What do you want?" Her voice was as broken as the skin of her back.

He sighed deeply, revealing in breaking another enemy. He reduced her to less than nothing. He made her less than even trash.

"Admit to stealing the hair clip. And I will let you go. I will let you leave with your honor intact. No one outside the walls needs to know that you're a dirty thief just like your mother. It's in your mutated blood. You could not help it. Admit to stealing the clip and go silently and never come back. And you get to still make money for your family without having to resort to selling your body to do the same." He paused and mulled his words. "The pink hair may fetch you a nice sum in the beginning at least. Before you're riddled with disease. There is no longevity in that line of work."

She let out a broken sound.

"If you have truly convinced yourself you care about the Master - Minato - and Naruto, you will keep your mouth closed. You will stay away lest your shadow touches them. You are death, Oni. If you care, stay away. Leave now. Take what I am offering."

Her throat produced reverberation he had never heard before. It was not a sob or a sigh or a grunt. Somehow it was all three and nothing like them.

"I really don't want to have to hit you again to get you to agree." Danzo actually sounded sympathetic and reasonable. "The choice is yours, Oni."

"O-okay," she said through a broken sob.

"What was that, little Oni?" Danzo leaned forward. He turned his head and offered her his good ear. "Speak up."

"I stole the clip," Sakura said in a voice with clarity and conviction that surprised even him.

"Good," he reached for the first tool he could find on the wall. She screamed.

"That was for breaking my cane." He hit her with the rake until the handle of that broke too. She had passed out somewhere between the fifth and eighth strike. It took four more on top of that for the tool to give out.

She did not regain consciousness until the second day. The shed was barely insulated. The cold that crept in from the bottom, sides, and roof numbed some of the pain. Danzo did not return.

Tomoha arrived on the day she regained consciousness. Sakura heard her anguished cries over the sounds of her jagged breathing. She had enough sense to tell the woman to not move her. It was on that day that Sakura finally had a couple of sips of water. Only to fall into the merciful depths of darkness where she did not feel any pain for four more hours.

It was on the third day that Tomoha tried to talk to her. But her mind was a fog. Her heart was dust. And all she wanted to do was sleep. It was on the third day when the world did not spin when she lifted her head that Sakura told a swollen-faced Tomoha and an aghast Jiraiya that she stole the clip. It was on the third night, that Naruto sobbed outside of her room - the guards had moved her - begging her to let him in. It was on the tail end of the third night, that Sakura realized her heart was not indeed dust because there were still pieces big enough for her to feel breaking at the sound of Naruto's voice screaming for her as he was ripped away from the door and thus her and her life forever.

On the fourth day. She was kicked out of the compound. Her packed suitcase and well-worn sandals were thrown out with her. All traces of her were removed. She was gone. Only the people that knew her could attest to the fact that she was ever even there. All her money - as meager as it was - was taken by Danzo because she is a dirty thief. Only the gold coin passed to her hand by Tomoha was what she now had to her name and even that was borrowed. She was in pain, all alone, and unable to think clearly.

She slept on the street with her suitcase as her pillow, on the fourth day through the fourth night. The floor was damp and sticky. The wind hit her cuts and bruises like a whip. Sending pain to every receptor along her spine. Tomoha had tried her best but there was only so much she could do under the watchful eyes of the guard. Sakura did not even have enough salve for a papercut prepared. Her nose registered a rancid odor. Her pink sweaty, stringy hair clung to her skin and back. Her wounds bled sluggishly.

A/N: So yeah this one kind of sucked to write. Please continue to let me know if there were any mistakes. Let me know what you're thinking. Was it surprising? Expected? Predictable? Horrible? Boring? Open to feedback. Please and thank you.