When the Soul Speaks Chapter 37: Good Intentions, a naruto fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Chapter 37: Good Intentions and Consequences

"So nothing?" He summarized succinctly what his uncle had been debriefing him on for the past thirty to forty-five minutes.

"Nothing," Jiraiya said gravely. "I leveraged my network. I applied pressure. I put out feelers. All the basic level one stuff and nothing." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wooden wall of the study. He lowered his chin towards his chest. "He was meticulous. He was careful. There is no direct connection between him and the Shogun. It reads as if he has no allies."

"I refuse to believe that," Minato said tightly. He leaned forward on his forearms, resting them on his thighs. "There has to be something."

"If there is something to find, I will find it." Jiraiya raised his head to look Minato in the eyes. "It will take time."

"Do you have anything to add?" Minato regarded the uncharacteristically quiet Kakashi.

"You need new friends."

Minato scoffed.

"He's right," Jiraiya added with a frown. "You need new allies. New blood. That is the only way you survive this." Jiraiya paused to measure his words. "Take it from me, you can't put all your eggs in the Senju basket."

"It may be true it's one of the oldest clans in Konoha, that it actually is responsible in large part for establishing it, there are too many variables to account for." Kakashi left off where Jiraiya had led them. "You need to be realistic."

"I am," Minato said adamantly. "Senju-sama will come around." He believed that. He had to believe that. It was all he had. "She has maintained her husband's connections as well as her father's from when she was in Uzushiogakure. Waves, Water, and Rivers all had close trade agreements with Uzushiogakure. Senju-sama is still very much respected. Her name is known."

"That all is true," Jiraiya sighed. "But there is no guarantee she will take back her daughters and by extension her granddaughters. If she wanted to, she would have done so already."

"And there's the small detail that her granddaughter can't stand you." Kakashi pointed out unnecessarily. "Forcing her into an arranged marriage will not do you any favors in changing her opinion of you. Even someone as clueless as you understands that, surely."

"No one is forcing anyone to do anything," Minato said with decisiveness.

"Minato," Jiraiya rubbed the back of his neck. "I came up empty-handed on Danzo. As well as any plans the Shogun may have for you. It means you have some time. Think it through, Oi. Your feet need to be firmly on the ground and your head needs to be clear - not in the clouds. Let Tsunade work on Sakura. You need to use this time to get more allies. You need protection. You need loyalty. Even if it isn't how you pictured it."

"There are more ways to make friends," Minato said to no one in particular. "I'll be prepared."

"Do I have to say it?" Kakashi asked heavily. He felt their eyes. "Even if Senju-Obaasan takes her back. And even if she agrees to marry you, doesn't it still feel like you're using her as a means to an end?" He left off the 'again'. It would be excessive and unnecessary judging from the look that settled on Minato's face.

Jiraiya turned to regard his blond-haired nephew.

"You said to be realistic right?" Minato did not blink. "Life is not without trade-offs." He knew full well how this looked and how it would be perceived. He could only hope she saw what she was gaining out of it as well. He stood up from the desk he was leaning on. Love was not enough in their world. It was entirely optional, especially in matters such as this.

"I have some letters to write. Invitations of meetings to extend." He announced. "It would be good if the two of you stay close."

"I'll keep remotely checking on my leads." Jiraiya pushed off the wall.

"And I'll keep doing what I'm doing," Kakashi said lazily.

"Good." Minato nodded his head. He left the study - or what his uncle and brother dubbed it: the war room.

She tapped her fingers to her forehead. Everything was too loud and too bright. "When did you learn to drink like that?" Tsunade asked her with a scowl.

Mebuki scoffed. "There's a lot you only think you know about me." She looked over Tsunade's shoulder at the chicken scratch on the pieces of paper with a frown. "What's all this?"

"I've managed to narrow down five ingredients that are definitely in the tablet. I have a good guess as to three more but it's only a guess." She stared at the small, white pill that sat in a dark green dipping dish. "I'll need to go to Konoha to examine it further."

"Why are you even doing this?" Mebuki's tone was layered with exasperation. "Kizashi is dead and your clinic is in the past. You can't help him and you certainly aren't looking to help others."

Tsunade frowned at her. "You're taking this all fairly well."

"Look," Mebuki sighed, "I made peace with the thought of never seeing my husband again when he went off to war. Every day that I got with him, injured or not was a gift. I'm trying to keep that in mind."

"That's surprisingly healthy," Tsunade blinked in disbelief.

Jade-colored eyes rolled in response. "I survived the loss of my son. I loved my husband but my son was a piece of me." Mebuki sighed. "I can survive just about anything. That's what I learned."

Tsunade made a sympathetic sound. "Some life huh?"

Mebuki pressed her lips together in a less-than-impressed manner. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm just curious," Tsunade lied through her teeth. "Maybe all this has me thinking about opening up a clinic again and helping people."

"Really?" Mebuki asked her dubiously. Her eyes scanned Tsunade's poker face. "You're going to give up traveling through the lands, racking up gambling debts, and drinking yourself into an early grave for helping people?" Mebuki scoffed. "Just who do you take me for?"

Tsunade counted to three. "You said it yourself," she exhaled slowly, "Yakushi was the only one who helped you and Sakura."

"Something I said got through to you?" Mebuki shook her head. "I must have drunk more than I thought."

"Can you be serious for one minute here?" Amber eyes narrowed in indignation.

"Fine," Mebuki patted her on the shoulder. "You work away trying to find something when there is nothing to find and I'll go make us lunch."

Suspicion rose in Tsunade. Her stomach churned. "Buki, I need to go to Konoha."

"That's an excuse," her sister shot back. "You can find whatever you need here just as easily." She held up her hand to stop Tsunade from protesting. "Unless you haven't changed all that much. Running away is what you're good at."

Tsunade avoided the obvious pitfall. "Why don't you want me back in Konoha?"

"I never said that. All I meant was I am alone here. It would be nice for you to stay with me while I get my affairs sorted." Mebuki's own poker face slid into place. She could not let Tsunade interfere with her plan. Sakura had already sacrificed too much of her past and present to lose out on her future too.

"Oneesan, I know I didn't do right by Sakura and that caused a lot of strain on our already rocky relationship. It took me five years and the prospect of sending my husband to war to come to terms with my reality and my actions. Haruma - Kami, bless his soul - was the only one in this house who showed Sakura any affection. The boy worshiped her. So much so that I was worried he would grow older and resent me and his father for how we treated his sister. It's much too late and much too little but I'm trying to be different for her. I'm trying to be someone worthy of calling herself Sakura's Okaasan. I'm trying to make up for fifteen years of abuse and neglect."

Mebuki's eyes softened. "Sakura when she came here, all she could talk about was you. 'Kaachan this' and 'Kaachan that'. I resented you even then. You were the best mother to her. So please stay and teach me. Spend time with me so that when I go to face my daughter after all this tragedy I can be closer to the mother she deserves."

Great hesitation was set into Tsunade's bones.

"Or you can leave." The vulnerability of Mebuki's face was no more.

Tsunade sighed. It seemed her decision was made for her. She would stay. It would take longer but she would find what there was to be found and she would mend her relationship with her sister in the meantime. Because for once, she saw the rift that would grow between them if she acted out of instinct. If she left now. There would be nothing to connect the sisters anymore other than loss and the resentment it caused.

Sakura sighed. Her green eyes peered over the top of the book she was holding. The manner in which Anko's frame was hung did not change. Her shoulders were hunched and her head bowed as she updated the ledger for the week. Her not purple and not black hair was secured in place with a metal shenbon. A weapon that Sakura came to learn was preferred by assassins. She was a little scared to ask where the girl got such a thing but the dagger she slept with under her pillow caused her to pause. It was not her business. But Anko's sudden reservedness was very much so.

Sakura alternated the leg she had crossed over her knee. Anko was minimizing herself and that was something Sakura recognized immediately. She looked over her shoulder and then at the door. She needed to test a theory. Something that had bothered her since breakfast.

She rose to her feet and set the book she was reading on the top of the stool. Sakura did not allow hesitation or doubt in her thoughts to avoid running the risk it would appear in her movements. With one hand she firmly grabbed Anko's shoulder to begin turning her around and the other darted out to grab her wrist before the teen could do anything to counter.

Anko inhaled sharply. Pain flashed across her eyes. Sakura pushed up her sleeve. Her green eyes narrowed at the presence of a crude bandage job. It was on Anko's dominant arm.

"What happened?" Sakura's voice was dangerous.

Anko cowered. She tried to pull away but Sakura's grip held firm. "Sakura -"

"He won't be back for hours." Her emerald eyes were hard enough to cut glass. With resolve and audacity that she had no idea from which it came, she crafted her question. "Be honest with me, Anko. Did he do this to you?"

Anko started to cry. The severity of Sakura's gaze did not let up. She dragged the girl to the stool. She pushed off the book and made her sit. The spine broke open to an arbitrary page. With a steady hand, Sakura began to undo the bandage. She moved quickly in a controlled fury as she first locked the front door and then turned the sign so that 'Closed' was facing the street. She pulled the dark purple curtains to cover the windows. She then moved to gather the ingredients and make a salve.

"How long has this been going on?" Sakura asked calmly. The cut was shallow. She had seen the scars of previous cuts just like this one. Faded but not completely gone. They would never be gone.

"Does he do this when he gets mad?" She asked into the mortar and pestle. Anko's almost silent sobs were barely detectable to her ears.

"Sakura," Anko stuttered. "Get out."

Sakura whirled around with heat in her eyes. "Show me," she instructed.

Anko held out her forearm, unable to test that tone with that look. She looked on miserably as Sakura slathered the salve. It stung. Before wrapping it tight.

"Show me," Sakura repeated again, taking a step back. Her voice was a katana. It cut through all protests and thoughts of defiance.

Anko's eyes stayed on the floor as she undid her obi. She turned around and presented her back. It took everything in Sakura to not throw up then in there in pure horror. Like neat little rows, Anko's back was carved with horizontal lines no longer than two inches. She saw four columns. She swallowed back the bile.

There was raised skin on Anko's neck. Where it met her shoulder. She squinted. Her eyes widened when she recognized what it was. A brand. Anko had been branded. Like she was cattle. Three comma-like squiggles; tomoe. It took everything in her to not cry out in sheer outrage.

She gathered her resolve from the air, not wanting to let a lick of anger dissipate. She turned around, and Anko used that time to cover herself with her clothes once more. She tied the scarf around her neck. Hiding the branding. She waited with wide eyes and a sinking stomach. Her tears clung to her eyes. The remnants of them made her face tight.

Anko did not fight the hand that grabbed her wrist, her left wrist. She followed mutely behind Sakura's forceful strides. Anko stood awkwardly in Sakura's room as the pinkette moved to her desk. She began to scribble something down with ferocious speed. Her hand shook, Anko did not miss that. A drawer opened. Sakura picked out a plum-colored sack. Anko recognized it.

She grabbed the coin purse and the paper. Her hand was wrapped around her wrist once again. Anko's lungs breathed in the cool air of the courtyard. She blinked as Sakura came to a stop over the short gate. She reached into her pocket with hands that still shook in her anger.

"How good is your poker face?" There was only seriousness on her face.

"What?" Anko asked in disbelief.

"Your poker face," Sakura repeated without looking up. She slid the key into the lock. "I need you to keep it together just long enough."

"Sakura," Anko shook her head. "You're not making any sense."

"You're getting out of here. You're not coming back." Sakura said with a ferocity that Anko had never seen before. It surprised her.

Anko's eyes widened. "He'll kill you," she covered her mouth with her hand.

'Let him try.'

"That's not for you to worry about," Sakura said dismissively. She handed Anko the letter and the purple pouch. "You are going to go straight to the Namikaze Compound. You're going to ask for Namikaze Minato. No one else. No one else," she repeated gravely. "And you're going to give him this note. "He was the man who you saw in the courtyard that day. Blondie." She added hastily. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Anko shook her head.

"You'll be fine," Sakura squeezed her shoulders. "Once you get there, stay hidden. They will treat you well." Danzo was gone. Uka told her and she heard the rumors. "What happened to me won't happen to you. And what's happening to you here, will never happen to you again." Sakura's face was pulled into a snarl. "There is less chance of someone seeing you if you go through this gate." She shook her head. "You'll be fine." She said more to herself than Anko.

Anko took a step back involuntarily. Sakura was absolutely feral in her ferocity.

"Anko, this is our only chance. The Sensei is in the next town over. You have to take this opportunity. I can't protect you as long as you're here." She could not protect Anko on top of looking after herself. She held the girl's face in her hands. She brushed away some of the strands of hair with a gentle hand. Her expression softened for a moment. "You're going to be okay," Sakura said firmly over the sounds of the girl's soft sniffles. "Don't cry. No more crying."

Anko nodded her head. She closed her eyes as Sakura dried the remnants of her tears.

"Chin up." Sakura lifted Anko's chin as she said the words. "You will be fine." She squeezed the girl's shoulders. I can't go with you, it would draw too much attention. Just tell the guards you have something for Ambe-san."

"Namikaze Minato," Anko repeated his name hollowly.

"Namikaze Minato," Sakura nodded her head, encouraged that the girl seemed to be somewhat responsive.

"I don't have anything for Ambe-san," Anko asked with a frown.

"You do," Sakura gestured to the pouch. "A gold coin. She was the one who gave it to me. Give it back to her." Only then would Sakura's account with the complex be settled. "I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner."

Anko shook her head. Her voice failed her.

"You can't take your things in case someone sees you or the guards get suspicious," she thought out loud. "You'll be fine. They'll give you food, a room, and clothes. You'll be alright. Rin-chan is there. Ambe-san is there," Sakura's eyes softened just enough to be familiar. "You'll be happy, Anko-chan." She pulled the teen into an embrace.

Anko clung to her. She shook against the only slightly shorter woman.

"No more tears. Go," Sakura pushed her away. She turned the key to the right. It clicked. She pushed open the gate. Anko walked through. She turned around to see tears held back in Sakura's eyes.

"Be good," the pinkette smiled at her. "Be safe."

The gate slid closed, latching into place loudly. She heard the lock click back into place. It echoed in her ears over and over. Anko's mouth went dry at the complexity that danced in Sakura's jade orbs as she looked at her through the bars of the black gate. Every part of her screamed it was wrong to leave her behind. Anko felt her heart splinter as she turned around to face the street. She moved with slow but purposeful movements away from the only thing she knew to something that was completely foreign.

Sakura did not wait around to watch Anko until she was just a speck on the horizon. She moved quickly to go back to the shop. She threw away the bloodied bandages and picked up the fallen book from the floor before she pulled back the curtains and unlocked the door. She turned the sign back to 'Open'. By the time she was back at the counter, her breathing was back to normal. She picked up the brush that Anko had set down and began to finish taking inventory.

The forest green gate was imposing. It never had been before. Back when she had someplace to go. Back before it was a potential prospect. The guards - the same ones from the last time - eyed her warily.

She held her head in the very position Sakura had put it. Anko licked her lips before opening her mouth. "I have business with -"

"Ambe Tomoha," the guard cut off her hesitant start. "We know," he tapped the gate. Anko's heart moved in rhythm with the loud bangs. She wanted to curl up into a ball. The events of the past twenty-four hours were too much for her.

She stepped over the gate slowly. The coin in her hand felt heavy. She was worried she would smudge Sakura's note with her sweat. It was already crinkled in her hand. The guard moved. But she did not. He looked back in confusion.

"Namikaze Minato," she said his name like a prayer.

"What?" The guard asked her with a heightened sense of alertness. His hand moved to the hilt of his katana.

"Namikaze Minato," she repeated as she lowered her eyes. "I need to see him."

"What possible reason could you have to see the Master?" The man grabbed her elbow and shook her roughly.

She blinked back at the spots that appeared in her vision rather suddenly. She was disoriented. She closed her eyes. More pairs of feet hurried to her. She was surrounded. They were clamoring. Someone was screaming at her. She was being shaken some more.

"What's going on here?" A deep voice cut through the loud.

She did not open her eyes. No one spoke. She started to sway. The pressure on her elbow was gone.

"Master," a guard - the one closest to her - gave a salute before speaking. "This girl claims she needed to see you."

"And your reaction was to surround her and put hands on her?" Minato asked with a raised brow. The guards all took a step back looking admonished. The teen looked close to falling on her face. "Are you alright?" He asked her in a gentler tone.

"She could be a spy," a guard said reluctantly. "Look!" He pointed emphatically at her hair. "She has a weapon."

"I'll take my chances," Minato muttered dryly. "Dismissed," he looked at the four faces. They bowed before moving hastily to comply with the order.

"Would you like some water?" He asked her once again when it was just the two of them.

"Namikaze Minato," Anko stammered out as she swayed.

"That's me," he continued with his gentle cadence. He blinked once as her arm darted out to hand him a piece of a crumpled-up piece of paper. He smoothed it out. He recognized the handwriting.

Namikaze-sama,

This is Mitarashi Anko. She needs food, shelter, and protection. Give it to her.

He pressed his lips together. It was the only outward, visible display of his disappointment. The hope that had risen in him was all but crushed but he nurtured the sliver that remained. She trusted him. With this. She trusted him enough to demand something from him. That had to mean something. He folded the note and slipped it into the inner pocket of his shirt.

"Come on, Anko-chan." He smiled warmly at the girl. "Let's go find Tomoha-san. She'll get you situated."

Anko followed behind him. His smile filled her with a sense of warmth that she did not quite understand.

She covered her shaking hand with her other one as she put on a bright smile to greet him. She tucked the scrolls she had opened under the counter. "Welcome back, Sensei." The lights of the lanterns were dim. The shop was quiet. She moved to take his bags and haori from him.

"Did you find everything you set out to?" Sakura asked him pleasantly.

"I did," Kabuto let out a long sigh. "I must be getting older. It's getting harder and harder to convince myself to go on these day trips," he yawned into his elbow as he sifted the mail in his hands. He had picked it up on his way in. Lee was keeping long hours.

"Hm," Sakura hummed noncommittally.

"Or it could just be I'm more eager to get back home now that I have someone waiting for me." He asked with a cocked brow and a smooth voice.

She tried to not let her unease show. "It's probably just the changing weather. Or allergies."

"There's nothing for you." Kabuto smiled apologetically at her.

Sakura hummed in acknowledgment. She was not expecting anything from her mother. "Should I get your plate ready?" She looked at him expectantly, determined not to let what she felt on the inside show on the outside.

"Sure, please." He made his way to the counter. He set down the letters. "Where is Anko?"

Sakura bit the inside of her cheek and counted to three. "Someone from the Namikaze Compound stopped by, and they said they needed a new girl. I told Anko-chan to go there." She held her breath as she saw him comprehend more and more of her statement.

"Who gave you the right to do that?" His eyes flashed in a way she never saw before. He quickly recovered. Kabuto ran a hand through his bangs. "I'm sorry, I had a long day," he pressed a finger to the gap between his brows. "Why would you do something like that, Sakura?"

She subtly moved away from the counter, not wanting to be pinned between him and it. "Did I do something wrong?" She tilted her head to the side and stared at him demurely.

"I need her here. I've spent a lot of years training her. She is valuable." He was struggling to keep a hold of his composure. His words came out through clenched teeth. "And you sent her to the place that abused you."

"What happened to me won't happen to her," Sakura assured him in a soothing tone. "Maybe we should talk about this over food. I'm sure we'll both find things to be more agreeable with full stomachs. I made curry. One of your favorites."

"Sakura," his face was a blend of stern and grim. "I want to talk about it now."

Sakura swallowed. "The Master is back, what happened to me he would never condone or allow," Sakura spoke with all the conviction she carried in her chest. "She will be taken care of and she will have Rin-chan. It's a great opportunity."

Kabuto stalked over to her, not unlike a cougar who had locked onto its prey. "Are you insinuating that this job is terrible? That she was not taken care of here?"

She could smell what he ate for lunch. She nearly gagged. "I saw the cuts," her emerald eyes rose in an act of challenge to his. "And the branding." She saw surprise dart across his black void of a gaze. He took a step back. "I had to do something to get her out of here."

"You think I'm a monster," Kabuto's eyes were wide behind his glasses.

"I don't know what to think," she answered truthfully. "I just saw that she was hurt and she was scared so I did something about it."

"Why are you still here?" Kabuto furrowed his brow. She did not look terrified of him.

"Because I gave you my word. I told you I was forever indebted to you. I told you I was your tool," her gaze did not waver even if her voice did. "Just what am I dealing with here?"

Kabuto slumped, losing a couple of inches to bad posture. "Sit down Sakura," he gestured to the stool behind the counter. "I'll stay on this side," he held up his hands in good faith. "Please," he said gently at her visible hesitation and distrust.

She pondered her options for a moment before she ultimately decided she needed to know. She slipped back behind the counter and sat down. Her eyes never left his. There was now at least three feet between them.

She watched warily as he pulled down the collar of his kimono, revealing where his neck met his shoulder. Her eyes found the raised skin. From her vantage point, it did not look too different than the one Anko had. Her forehead folded into lines.

"I am an orphan," Kabuto reminded her. "I was found by my shishou, Orochimaru-sama. Maybe you heard of him?"

Sakura shook her head. The name was not familiar to her at all. She only knew what Kabuto told her and she was taking that with a spoonful of salt.

"He was a classmate of your aunt and Jiraiya-sama. Brilliant. Maybe even the smartest amongst them. He was a blend of the two. A warrior as strong as Jiraiya-sama and a medic on par with Tsunade-sama. He was on the shortlist to be the next Shogun. But that was too limiting for my Shishou. He wanted to save the world."

"Save the world?" Sakura asked incredulously. The way Kabuto said it made it seem attainable somehow.

The gray-haired man nodded. "He wanted to save the world by saving humanity. By eradicating diseases and prolonging the human lifespan."

Sakura's stomach twisted into a knot before it dropped to her toes. Fear rose up in her until it numbed and dulled all other emotions.

"In the pursuit of that, he needed subjects to run tests on." Kabuto ran a hand through his hair, he brushed his bangs from his eyes. "He started with animals. But eventually, he reached a point where the only way he could make progress was through using human subjects. He had volunteers. The sick. Soldiers with missing limbs. But they kept dying or not getting better fast enough. Eventually, people lost faith in him. It only drove him to madness. He worked with new fervor to prove himself right and regain his good name."

The air almost became hostile to breathe.

"He then restored to experiments on who he would find. He would offer money to some. Or -"

"Food and shelter," she finished with horror.

Kabuto nodded his head. "I was seven when I met him. He took me out of the orphanage. He gave me a choice, he said he saw promise in me so I could go with him and be a part of his family - that's what he called his experiments - or I could stay in place fighting for grains of rice."

All the color drained from her face. She pressed her hand flat against her stomach.

"This mark, this brand," he pointed to the one on his person. "Is the family crest." He paused. "I chose to go with him. I was young but I made a choice. He took me along like he promised. He fed me, he taught me how to read. He even had me help with his experiments. Some were promising, some not so much. I saw a lot of what I shouldn't have. But that was all I knew. To me that was normal. That was how the world worked. He began to experiment on me, slowly. It hurt so much. But thankfully I lost consciousness very quickly. So I do not remember all the grueling details of what was done to me." He cleared his throat and blinked back the tears.

His long fingers played with a strand of gray hair that had fallen on the counter. His voice was distant when he spoke. "I survived, I did not gain anything out of it but I did not die. That was something. He decided to keep me around as a control. To do all measurements against. So the experimentation stopped but he kept me busy with learning from his notes and past studies. He had me revise them and offer alternatives. My still-frail body was of no use to him but my keen mind was. It all started off with good intentions but he lost sight of it. He lost himself in his pursuit. In his mission. He was killing hundreds. He killed hundreds and saved maybe two."

"You and Anko-chan," she said in a haunted whisper.

He smiled sadly. "Anko-chan was one of his. Her hair and her eyes look the way they do because of him. Because of the experiments that he conducted on her." He looked down at his hands. He visualized the blood. The blood he was responsible for. "She was just nine years old when he found her. I was sixteen. Seeing the things he did to her, I couldn't stomach it anymore. I don't know what about Anko-chan was different. He experimented on children before. I helped him experiment on children before. But with Anko," he paused. "I felt something. Maybe it was my conscience. Something told me this was wrong."

He trapped his forehead. His expression went blank as if he was reliving the moment right in front of him. She dared not move lest it caused him to clamp up.

"I took her and I ran, not before burning all his notes." He looked around the shop. "I stumbled onto this place and made it my life's mission to undo the horrors I committed. It's my penance."

"You said you were doing a study with your Shishou…" she searched his face. "Are you still?"

"No," Kabutos shook his head. "That study, the one you saw in the scroll is old. It was one of the projects Orochimaru-sama started that actually helped people. I was just continuing it on my own. But the original notes were his, that's why it had his name. No more human experiments for me."

"You cut her," Sakura said in a volume barely above a whisper. She was close to coming undone.

"The experiments changed me," Kabuto grimaced. She watched with trepidation as he opened up the wrap of his shirt. Her eyes widened. His arms and torso were covered with the same two-inch horizontal lines that Anko's back was. She could not look away out of a sense of sick mortification.

Kabuto traced a line on his left pectoral muscle. "I get angry now, so angry. Where I black out and lose control. I become the thing I hate the most. I can't control it. I became a monster. I am no better than Orochimaru-sama."

Sakura got up from the stool clumsily. His dark eyes watched her with trepidation. He was scared of her reaction.

"Did you mean it?" She swallowed audibly. Her voice fluctuated with dread. "That you are only concerned with helping people? And that you have cut all ties with Orochimaru?"

Kabuto nodded. "I've never lied to you, Sakura. I could not bring myself to. I hid this out of shame. She's just a child."

"I am going to ask you some questions and I want the truth, alright?" She held up a hand as if putting it up brought her comfort of some sort.

"Alright," he said with a faint nod and a small voice.

"Why did you cut her? This time."

"She disobeyed." He responded without so much as blinking.

"How?" Her eyes hardened with her resolve born out of scrutiny.

"She mislabeled data. She mishandled it. It led me to believe I was closer to a breakthrough than I actually was. I lost a week's worth of time chasing down a false lead."

"That's it?" She narrowed her eyes. "That's all?"

"I'm not proud of my behavior, Sakura." Kabuto looked down at his hands. "I thought I was close to being able to help people like your father. So I would not fail them where I failed you."

'He's a liar!'

She flinched. "Were all those cuts on Anko-chan yours?"

"No, less than five are mine." He clarified knowing full well it did not make it any better. "Over seven years."

"Did you ever assault her in any other ways?" The question burned her throat and mind. "Did you ever -"

"I'm not attracted to children, Sakura." He said unblinkingly. She searched his face. "I never put hands on her with any emotion other than anger."

"Have you tried any methods to manage your anger?"

"Nothing helps. It's sudden and uncontrollable. It's like someone else just takes over." He said with ample guilt.

"But you remember," she pressed. "You remember everything?"

"I do. The act. The rage. The fear I inspire in her." He clenched his fist. "It takes me back to being strapped in Shishou's exam chair. Cold, scared, terrified and so alone."

She swallowed. "Did he ever touch you?"

Kabuto nodded. "I was molested as a child. That's why I could never do that to Anko-chan. I know what that's like."

She did not fight a single trace of dishonesty. "Will you try harder? If you can draw that line, maybe you can stop?"

"I'm not sure if I can, Sakura. The anger is so foreign. It's all-consuming. Nothing of me is left."

She felt a lump that calcified and lodged in her throat making it difficult to breathe. She only saw a hurt child, now when she looked at him.

"Did you intend to experiment on my father?" She asked without emotion. "Did you give him experimental medication?"

"No." He did not waver. "I knew what I was doing. It all happened so fast. Everything was pointing to a good outcome. Until it was too late. There was nothing left for me to do."

She blinked heavily. She was slow to open her eyes. Sakura let out a shaky breath. "Sensei," she held his gaze without judgment. "Why did you not tell me about the Master? That he was Minori?"

Kabuto's brows furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in direction. "It was not mine to tell. I didn't understand why he was doing what he was. I didn't want you to think I was manipulating you in some way by telling you." He smiled softly.

'He lied to you! To us!'

"You were growing attached to him. I didn't want you to think that I shared his secret as a means to distance you from him. I didn't want to come between the two of you." He paused. "The Master is a very powerful man, Sakura. I could lose everything if he set his sights on me. And while I have affection for you, I hold it for you, I could not risk being homeless and jobless. Not when Anko relied on me to provide for her."

She was at a loss for words. She glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes darted around the counter. Sakura was within arms distance of him now. She picked up the letter opener on the wooden slab behind her. A small blade.

'Have you lost your damn mind?!'

"Are you angry right now?" She asked him levelly. "With what I did?"

"Yes," he blinked through a curtain of gray lashes.

"Do you want to cut me?" She held out the blade for him. She even presented her bare forearm, the one with the healed cut from the glass, her sleeve fell to her elbow.

"Sakura?" Kabuto asked her not quite believing what was happening. Neither could the voice in her head that was screaming every profanity they collectively knew at her.

"I am your tool. If you feel anger, use me. Cut into me. Make me bleed. Do not hurt anyone else." Her eyes blazed with steadfast strength. "Do not experiment on anyone else. Do not give in to what the darkness is telling you."

"You're not leaving?" His voice was shaky and his knees felt like they would buckle at any second.

"No," she shook her head. "You tried to save my Otosan. You saved me. I owe you my life. I'm not going anywhere."

Kabuto pushed the letter opener from her hands. It clattered to the floor. It sounded like fireworks going off in her ears. She froze when his arms wrapped around her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck. She felt his tears on her collarbone.

"No one has accepted me before."

"We all have our flaws," she tried to lean back but his grip was too strong. She felt him shake against her. "You accepted me for mine." She sighed. "What happened to you is not your fault. What he made you do is not your fault. But what you do now is. Don't hide anything from me. If you get angry, I'm here. Make me your vessel. I can contain your poison."

"Sakura," he pulled her warm body closer. "Thank you."

She let him hold her for several minutes more. She did not flinch when his hands came to cup her face.

"I could never hurt you," Kabuto assured her. "I know," he breathed loudly, "I know I'm not your first choice. But you need to know that I care about you too much. I care about you most in this world."

She lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything. For what you must have thought and felt." He tilted her chin up forcing her to look at him.

"We all get a little lost," she held his gaze. "Now, let's go eat dinner, hm?"

He gave her one more squeeze before walking with her to the kitchen.

She was irritable. Not getting a second of sleep was the reason behind it. She had resorted to putting paper down by her door so that she would be alerted the next time the man she lived with decided he wanted to come into her room in the middle of the night. She was not going to be caught sleeping again.

Breakfast was an awkward affair. But realistically how could it not be? She had jumped any sudden movement he made and while he did not comment on her jumpiness she saw the way his eyes seemed to lose light. She did not want to be scared of him but she could not help herself. It was almost an involuntary response.

He was giving her space to process. Shortly after finishing breakfast - much faster than he usually did - he announced he would be in the shed all day. He believed he was close to a breakthrough in developing a medicine that would be more effective in patients with similar issues as her father. It would correct what he had gotten wrong. It was a noble thing for him to do and she believed he was speaking the truth, but every time he looked at her, her skin crawled.

It was not his fault. Not anymore than being born with pink hair was hers. But she could not help but think of the karma. If they truly had amassed bad karma in a past life just how horrible of people were she and Kabuto? Was it the culmination of their collective sins that forced them to come together in their life? She was driving herself crazy thinking of all the thoughts.

All she knew was that she did the right thing sending Anko away. The girl needed help. And she would not get it here. She had not slept. She had faith that Minato would do right by the girl. He would take care of her. She would be fine. She knew that in her bones. There was no Danzo. Minato would be Shogun. And Naruto would have himself an Okaasan. It was the best possible outcome. Everyone got what they wanted.

'Except you.'

Everyone who mattered got what they wanted.

The door opened. She looked up. The artificial smile slid off her face. She was suddenly very aware of the blood pumping in her veins. It seemed to come to a rather abrupt halt. Her throat was dry; all the moisture had migrated to her palms as well as forming beads of sweat atop her upper lip. She blinked. Over and over again but the image in front of her did not change. No matter how much she wished or willed it to.

Because there stood Senju Mito in the doorway of the medical shop in all of her regal glory in her bright white kimono and soft glow. Sakura's head bowed out of pure instinct. The attention and respect the red-haired woman demanded was awe-inspiring. It was nothing short of a marvel. She tugged down on her bandana.

"W-welcome," she shuttered out her greeting. "H-how c-c-can I h-hel -"

"Sakura."

Sakura closed her eyes. She pinched the inside of her wrist. She felt the prick. She was not dreaming. Her clammy palms pressed flat against the counter. She leaned forward heavily. She was going to pass out. She was sure of it. There were more than enough precursors to elude to the fact. Her head spun even as her world stopped spinning.

"Look at you," Mito's voice was smooth and warm like velvet. It was inviting and welcoming. It took all of Sakura's stubbornness to not look at her.

Her lips parted. Breathing through her nose was not nearly enough. She needed more air. She was seconds away from gulping it.

"Sakura," Mito's brow furrowed in worry. "It's me, your Obaasan."

She bit back a whimper. She knew exactly who the woman was. That was why she had the reaction she was having. She knew all too well who it was. She fisted her hand over her chest.

"Sakura," the woman's voice was much closer. "Look at me," her voice commanded her to obey.

Sakura's brain shut off. She opened her eyes and stared into the dark eyes of her grandmother. She focused on her pupils. She drew in breath, loudly and quickly but she held it for five seconds. She repeated the process until it no longer felt like the sky and ground were crushing her.

"Thank you," Mito smiled kindly when Sakura placed a cup of tea in front of her. They had migrated to the kitchen once Sakura calmed down enough to come off the floor. Kabuto had come from the back to man the shop when he realized who was at the door. The pinkette stood awkwardly with a tray pressed to her chest.

"Sit, Child." Mito gestured to the cushion across from her.

Sakura clumsily sat down. Her knee hit the table as she did so causing a little bit of tea to spill over the edges of the cups.

"Sorry," She mumbled in embarrassment on top of everything else in her stomach and brain.

"It's alright," Mito's hand reached out to lie on top of Sakura's, halting her efforts to sop up the extra liquid from the table. "Let me just look at you," Mito did not let go of her hand. Sakura's skin pricked at the scrutiny of her gaze. She felt herself sitting straighter. Subconsciously mirroring her grandmother's posture.

Mito's eyes roamed every inch of Sakura's face. The pinkette was growing more and more pink as the seconds ticked away. It did not help that Mito hummed and clicked her tongue while doing so.

"You take more after Tsuna than Buki." Mito pushed up Sakura's bandana from her forehead. "You have your Jiisama's forehead. Unfortunately," she clicked her tongue for the umpteenth time. "But once you get the seal it will be less noticeable." She frowned. "Child take that silly thing off your head."

Sakura froze. Her heart stammered in her chest.

"I'm waiting." Mito tapped her fingers on the table for good measure.

Her hands jerked. She searched Mito's unchanging visage. Stubborn and unyielding. It reminded her of her mother.

"My hair is pink." Sakura blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"Sakura," Mito shook her head. "Now, Child."

With slow, deliberate movements, Sakura's arms migrated towards her bandana. She undid the knot in the back. She exhaled sharply waiting for the judgment.

Mito's face remained unchanged. There was not even a fluctuation in her breath. Sakura's hands shook as she pulled out the three hairpins. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves. No sooner had they done so did Mito's hands start to gather Sakura's locks. She smoothed them down.

"Much better." Mito's dark eyes once again moved over every square inch of Sakura's face.

Sakura sat as straight as she could and tried to minimize all movements. It was stifling. Mito's gaze, her comments, her persona. The woman was a lot. Suddenly it made sense to her why her mother and aunt were the way they were.

"Your face shape is like your Ojisama's, Tobirama's. Same with Tsuna's." She sighed as she sat back, finally releasing Sakura's captive face and hair. "Thank Kami none of you girls take after his personality or gravitation towards war paint. Although Tsuna does go heavy on the makeup. Who is she trying to fool? She's not twenty-five anymore."

Sakura looked down at the tea. Mito must have noticed because she brought her hands around the small white ceramic cup. She took a small sip.

"You can brew tea, that is good." She said almost delicately as if she had not spent the better part of fifteen minutes making less than constructive comments. "You're skinny. Too skinny."

Sakura slowly sipped her tea to give herself something to do. She was not expecting her interaction with her grandmother to be anything like this. She was the only living grandparent she had. All the rest died before she was born. Her image of what an Obaachan should be like was very different from the woman sitting across from her. Mito did not seem like the type to make sugary goods.

"I woke up with a feeling. Something telling me to go out and venture to the village. That something was waiting for me." Mito sighed. "That day," Mito's voice changed in tone slightly. It was more reflective and less observational. "Back in Lee-san's shop when you ran out of there before I had a chance to recognize you when he called 'Haruno-san' after you, I could not stop thinking about that day."

Sakura set down her cup. She folded her hands on her lap and focused on Mito.

"I kept telling myself I should have said something. I should have called your name," she smiled humorlessly. "It was all a facade, of course, a way to placate my guilt. I learned of your name through Tsuna. Your first name that is. I did not even know my own granddaughter's name. And I prided myself on being a family-oriented woman."

Sakura lowered her eyes. It was too painful to see the regret on Mito's face. It was too raw.

"I kept punishing myself for not doing more, for not doing anything. Not just that day but long before. Decades before." Mito sighed deeply. "Tsuna told me what happened. I'm sorry I was not there for you. For your mother. I should have been the first place you went to," Mito tapped her fingers on the table. They were painted in the same shade of red as Tsunade's. Burnt Mahogany. "You should never have been in that situation."

She eyed the insides of the kitchen. It was quaint by her standards. Small but neat. Outdated but functional. An eyesore but tolerable.

"I know you are not a thief. I know you did not steal that hair clip. Just like I know your mother only took what was hers a little sooner than I was ready to admit." Mito regarded her downtrodden granddaughter.

"I'm so sorry about Haruma, Sakura. I'm so sorry about your father." Mito's voice strained from the grief.

Sakura bit the inside of her cheek. She waited for the vitriol to begin. It was never far. Her hands moved nervously through her hair. The action drew attention to it but it was hard to miss. It was the first thing people noticed. The first thing they commented on.

'Might as well get the screaming portion over with.'

"There is no curse, Sakura."

The pinkette flinched. Her whole body clamped up, trying to minimize herself so that maybe she could cease to take up space.

"You are not cursed, Child. I did not curse you. No more than anyone cursed me."

Sakura blinked at her, startled.

"Sakura," Mito held her chin and looked at her with the full weight of her conviction. "No mother, no woman who calls herself a mother, would ever do something so horrible to their own children. No matter what their child has done. That is just the nature of the relationship. You are not cursed, Child. You have just been unlucky. Our whole family has. We've been unlucky since even before we separated."

Sakura shook her head slightly as much as she could with Mito still holding her. Tears that she did not want to shed were welling up in her eyes.

"If you think you are cursed because of all the males in our family dying, then I am cursed. Then your mother, your aunt, and your sister are all cursed too."

"It's because of me," Sakura said brokenly. "Because of what I did."

"No." Mito shook her head. "It started well before you." The woman leaned back on her heels. Her face grew even more solemn. "I gave birth to three children, not two."

Sakura's lips parted as her jaw hung open.

"Between Tsuna and Buki." Mito exhaled slowly. "A baby boy who was not meant to be for this world. Nawaki." She said his name tenderly. "He came much too early. He was not even seven months old. Tiny. Blue. His hair was brown. He was small enough to fit in your grandfather's hand."

"They say not to get attached to children. They are feeble and weak. Some are not long for this world. The wise say to not get attached," Mito sighed deeply, "but how can you not? How can a mother not? I carried him in my body for seven months. He grew inside of me. Eating what I ate. Feeling what I felt. I had hopes and dreams of meeting him. Of raising him. I had so much love to give him. As did your Jiisama. We were so excited. We dreamed together of him as we waited."

Sakura blinked slowly. Her mind was working much too sluggishly.

"Tsuna was only two years old. Much too young to remember. We were so devastated. So broken. We never even spoke of his name. He was nothing more than an idea. I didn't realize they made coffins so small. His grave was tiny." Mito continued to massage Sakura's hand in a distracted manner. She was far gone in her thoughts. "We were so relieved when your mother was born, years later. After all those years of trying. So much so that we spoiled her rotten. We did not discipline her nearly enough. She was our baby that lived. She was the one we got to meet." She smiled in her heartbreak.

She had no idea. And neither did her mother. Maybe not even her aunt. They never mentioned it.

"Our misfortune started long before you, Child." Mito shook her head.

"I'm so sorry." There was nothing else that came close to expressing her grief or heartbreak for her grandmother. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Mito said almost harshly. She cleared her throat. "Life goes on. And with it comes good and bad. Your Jiisama and I have two beautiful girls. And for that, we are grateful. Nawaki was not meant to be. His soul was never put in his body. It was not his time. We accepted that and we moved on." She paused. "Maybe in another life. Maybe your Jiisama and Nawaki are currently together. It's a nice thought." She kissed her teeth. "What a lovely thought."

Sakura swallowed audibly. She was hyper-aware of gravity for the first time. Everything felt like it was weighing her down. She was reminded suddenly and without warning just how much weighed her down. How much she fought every day just to continue moving forward. What she combated and what took nearly all of her energy. She was too busy being weighed down and fighting all this generational baggage that she had nothing left over for herself. She could not be herself. The weight was too much. It would not let her. She felt the tears in the back of her eyes become like everything else. Heavy.

"We each are broken. We carry guilt in our hearts. Maybe you more than most," Mito regarded her with sadness. "I'm here to tell you not to. There are parties to blame but the only innocence in all of this is you and Shizune. I am the one who is responsible for everything. Let me carry this burden for us. I am more than capable of it." She pressed her palm to her chest. "My heart is strong. I can take all of this because I lived a life filled with love. From my parents, my mother-in-law, your grandfather, and my daughters."

"I've been loved and I've loved, Sakura. I've also lost. All that made me resilient. You've only experienced loss up to this point. Your heart is fragile. It was never filled with love - maybe in the beginning. What Dan and Tsuna gave you. And then Haruma. That's what has kept you going this long. You need to be filled with love, Child. You need to love yourself."

It started with one shaky breath, and one tear before it became a full-blown waterfall. Sakura's tears pelted the wooden table like raindrops.

"We've been unlucky because we are all hurting apart from each other. Our luck will change and our pain will subside when we all come together once again." Mito held the patience and withstandability of mountains. She was a force. Unyielding and unapologetic in her strength.

"We all lost. We all have our hearts broken. But Child we all had love too. Think of all the love between the loss. Think of what Haruma was to you. And what he gave you. What he left you with. All that love. Same with Dan. Focus on that. All the love in between the beginning and the end."

All the love between. Haruma's face danced in her mind. His smile. His laughter. His light. Where would she be without it? Who would she be without it? He was her motivation. She strived to be the person he believed her to be. Sakura closed her eyes. She was back in her father's orchards. She thought back to the lighter moments. The moments when she forgot that she was cursed. The moments where she was happy.

"There is no curse. You are not cursed. You are my granddaughter. You are my blood. You are my flesh. You are my heart." Mito's voice pulled her closer and closer towards the end; towards acceptance. The acceptance of an alternative. A world where it was just bad luck. As simple as that.

A sob ripped through Sakura's throat. Mito's grip on her hands tightened, comfortingly.

"You are all that I have left." Mito's voice twisted with rich emotion. She paused for a moment to gather herself. "My daughters and my granddaughters are all I have left. We have lost so much time. I want you to be close to me. I want you to want to be close to me. It's time you came home, Child. All of you."

The promise of the picture that Mito put forth was breathtaking. Something deep inside of her yearned for it. She did not want to be alone anymore with the weight of it all. Hope, a seed that was long neglected sprouted in her.

"I want to," Sakura worked through trembling lips. "But I -" her words morphed into a sob.

"Sakura, sweet Child," Mito held the sides of her face. "Let me love you. Give me a chance to show you what it means to have a grandmother. While I still can."

Sakura shook her head. She did not know what to do with herself. She was so overwhelmed. She did not fight it when Mito rounded the table to cradle her head in her arms. Sakura pressed her face against her shoulder. She closed her green eyes. She gave in. She wanted it.

But she had given her word. Mito and the Senju money may be able to clear her monetary debts to the Sensei but she still owed him so much for everything he did and continued to do.

"I need to work." Sakura's words were nearly as broken as her spirit had been. "I have to stay here and help." Because of her Anko was gone. And while she did not regret her rash decision, she could not spit in his face by leaving now.

"Sakura," Mito smoothed the hair from her face. She patted her on the back. "I do not want to completely disrupt your life. If you want to work, then work. All I ask is that you lay your head down at night back at home."

Home. How nice the word sounded. She felt better already and she did not even have any idea what this home looked like. She had only seen the white walls adorned with the family crest. It was all foreign but the way Mito held her, it felt familiar. She felt as if she were a toddler again. Her easiest memories of being comforted by a face that was blurred but now that Mito held her, she realized this was what it felt like to have maternal love. Tsunade. This is what it felt like to have Tsunade hold her after she skinned her knee or had a particularly bad dream. This is what she was missing her whole life.

"I want to," she whispered against the chest of her grandmother.

'Safe.' She felt safe.

"No more hiding who you are, Sakura. You are a Senju. You are my granddaughter. You will come home. You will hold your head high." She glared at the discarded cloth in Sakura's lap. "You have no reason to hide. You will not hide."

"Okay," Sakura nodded. She wrapped her arms around Mito's waist. "Okay." She repeated in a softer tone for herself. "I want to come home, Obaasan." She said the words she did not even let herself dream of. Not even when she was a little girl with nothing to show for other than grievances toward the world. "Take me home."

"Sakura," Mito smiled into her hair. "Nothing would make me happier than to see you happy. Allow yourself to want it. Whatever you choose, I will support you. We will heal each other. Only love can heal a broken heart."

She closed her eyes and let the words settle into her chest. Each one felt like a ball of warmth that exploded once inside of her. Shockwaves of warm, tingly feelings. She pictured a face in her mind. It was growing clearer. Another almost identical face joined it. She could feel her heart slowly start to rise up off the floor of her body. The sprout now had leaves. She could visualize the floral bud.

"I want love," Sakura admitted for the first time in her life in a voice that was nothing more than a whisper of the prospect of a promise. Maybe it was not a burden. She did not know much. But she was willing to learn what her family was offering to teach her. Her mother, aunt, sister, and now her grandmother.

"Nothing would make your mother happier than to see you married and with your own family, Sakura. And as the last one with Senju and Uzumaki blood, I want that too." Mito smiled. "Oh, the compound surely misses the sounds of tiny feet running around. The laughter and the joy of children. It's been far too long."

Sakura could picture it. The sounds of his laughter. Maybe even a couple of voices would join his, mixing into a symphony of happiness and joy. Maybe they could figure it out. Maybe they could talk. He could tell her why he lied. Then she could tell him why she did what she did. Maybe they could have a chance. She knew he would not love her. He could not. His heart would always belong to another. But she was happy and content with what she received when she was with Minori. She could love enough for the both of them. It was enough. Maybe it was not all a lie.

"When I visited your mother, she told me everything." Mito carried on warmly. Her fingers moved through Sakura's hair almost rhythmically. "She told me how much he helped you. How much he helped her. The Sensei helped bury your father. He was there for your mother when no one else was. She said he treated him practically for free, all because he cares about you."

The image in her head shattered like it was made of glass. It hit the floor with a deafening sound. Her heart completely split in half. Her pink lashes parted revealing heavy jade-colored orbs.

"He gave her money for food. He made sure she ate. He was so good to her. Better than most son-in-laws even." Mito squeezed her hand as she continued to almost gush. "And he helped you at your lowest too when no one else did. He cares about you, Sakura. He is kind, intelligent, self-reliant, capable. He takes care of you and your family. He's everything anyone could wish for."

Mito's expression brightened. "And since he does not hail from a clan he can live with us in the compound. You can see me and your mother every day. Every girl's dream." Mito sighed dreamily. "No one is asking you to leave your whole home country and support network behind."

Each fact, each utterance was another nail being driven through her neck. Tethering her that much stronger to the ground. Like she was some kind of festival balloon. Frozen in place.

"He worked so diligently. He even got your Otosan to warm up to him. Your parents were discussing bringing up the topic with you once your Otosan got well enough. They wanted to surprise you with a visit to Konoha. They shared a dream, a vision. A desire."

'Stop. Please stop.'

The hands moving through her hair felt like claws or talons. She inhaled sharply. Her arms around Mito's middle fell slack.

"They liked him for you. Your father wanted you to accept the Sensei and marry him. And let's be reasonable too, Sakura. You've been living with a man and it does not matter that your virtue is still intact - because Mebuki assured me you are not that type of girl and the Sensei is nothing but a gentleman - no man from a good family will consider you. This is the best scenario."

It was getting harder for her to breathe again. The lump in her throat refused to go down along with the liquid. She was nauseous. Oh so very nauseous. Mito's arms became a vice around her. Trapped.

"I - we - want you to marry for love. We want you to pick for yourself. But Sakura," she tilted her head down to take in the mute woman's face. "How lucky is it for you to have both your family's blessing and love all in the same man?"

"Obaasan," the word felt foreign. She pushed away from her arms. "I don't know if it's even possible." She did not love him. She would never love him. She knew that. She had already given her heart away without realizing it. She had been reckless with it. The one she loved, and the one her family wanted her with were not one in the same. Reality set in. She was delusional. Maybe she was not meant to have either. She rejected the Sensei's proposal once. There was no guarantee he would ask again.

"Sakura."

She froze. It was not Mito who spoke. She did not turn to look at him. Her heart was thrashing in her chest, ricocheting off her ribcage, gaining more and more speed and the capacity to do more damage along with it.

She saw him in her peripherals. She could not look at him. She did not have a face to show him. He owned her. He bought her with his actions, his devotion, and his thoughtfulness. There was nothing she could do.

"I would be honored if you accepted me as your husband. Will you be my wife?"

'No.'

The words were like a knife to her chest. Her heart panged and writhed on the floor. It pulsed weakly before it gave up. It was over.

'No. No.'

"Sakura," Mito's voice was ahead of her. "Say something." She squeezed her hand.

'No! No! No!'

She was not special. Generations of women before her were married, sold, and bartered off. They were beaten, raped, and abused in either the name of family, progress, politics, or greed. Girls shipped off across the country to marry men twice, three times their age. To be wives to men before they could even call themselves women. As soon as they had their first blood. Marriage for the only two women in her life up until this point was for love. And so much suffering came out of it. They were the exception. She was the rule.

'Love has no place in my life.'

The very words she uttered what felt like a lifetime ago rang in her ears. So loudly that she was left with a ringing in her ears. A self-fulfilling prophecy. She knew it all along. It was time to stop entertaining thoughts - no matter how fleeting - of the contrary.

It was clear. It was what she wanted versus what her family did. Her desires on one side and her late father's, mother's and grandmother's on the other. The math was simple. Unblinking, unseeing, unthinking, unfeeling Sakura's lips parted and she uttered the word she had no choice but to.

Jiraiya leaned his shoulder on the back wall. From his vantage point, he could make out all the faces in the room. The irony was not missed on him how much use the study was getting as of late. The informal war room was seeing more action in the past few months than it did during the entirety of the Five-Year War.

His frown deepened. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest.

"How is she doing?" Minato's eyes moved from Shizune's face to Tomoha's. Both women looked solemn.

"She's staying in Rin's room. She doesn't want to be far from her." Tomoha smoothed black and silver hair against her scalp with a tired hand.

"She hasn't said anything yet. Not a word," Shizune added with no shortage of sadness born from sympathy. "She's sticking close to Rin-chan. Like a shadow."

"Won't leave her side." Frustration laced into Tomoha's tone. "I've tried to subtly let Rin know to get the girl to open up."

"I'm sure Rin-chan understands the severity of it all." Shizune ran her hand through her hair, working out the knots absentmindedly. "What do you think Sakura-chan means by she needs protection?"

Minato shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." He did not want to put to words his darkest thoughts - his biggest fear. His eyes found Jiraiya's. They communicated wordlessly.

"We'll keep monitoring her. Let me know if you learn anything."

Shizune and Tomoha nodded. The women sensing the subtle dismissal filed out of the room in a shuffle of fabric and limbs. The door slid closed with a soft sound.

Minato turned to Jiraiya.

"He's under tight lock and key," Jiraiya answered the silent question. "He's behaving. Only your most trusted guards are in a rotation to watch him."

"Good," Minato raked a hand through his hair. "One less problem," for now.

"Hm," Jiraiya rubbed his brow thoughtfully. "I'll keep a pulse on that situation. We can't afford any surprises until everything is officially handed to you in five months."

"Thank you, Ojisan," Minato smiled for the first time today.

"You have time but it is not indefinite."

"I know." He rubbed the back of his neck. He had slept wrong. Or rather he spent the night staring up at the ceiling. "I have some things in the works. I'm being friendly."

"Good," Jiraiya said with a snort. "Any words from Tsunade?"

"Not beyond the letter announcing her arrival." Minato tilted his head back until it was against the wall. "Do you think she will find anything?"

"It would make certain things easier." Jiraiya frowned. "And certain things harder."

"Is it bad that I want her to find something?" Minato's eyes held a level of vulnerability that was rare.

Jiraiya sighed. He did not know how to answer that. He clapped Minato on the shoulder on his way out of the room. "I'm staying close as you asked. Until this mess is over. I won't miss anything." Not this time. Not now.

The blond crossed his arm across his chest. His closed fist rested against his heart. He dipped his head. The gesture spoke to his gratitude in a way words simply could not.

"What's this?" Naruto asked with a frown.

"A wallet." Jiraiya opened the clasp of the coin purse that was shaped like a toad. The inner fabric was lined with red in contrast to the brown front. "See? You put your coins here."

"Jiichan," Naruto said his name in a dragged-out manner colored by his impatience. "I'm a kid! I don't have money!"

"Oh," Jiraiya straightened to his full height. He had not thought about that. "Well, you can put your rocks or marbles or something in here. It's a gift. Be thankful." He palmed the top of Naruto's head and forcibly turned him around after shoving the wallet into his hands. "Now go, be merry and spread disease."

"What?" Naruto raised a brow and looked at him over his shoulder. He used the back of his hand to wipe the drip from his nose.

"You heard me." Jiraiya yawned. "It's time for my nap."

Naruto looked moodily at his wallet. "You're so old."

"Say, Gaki, isn't it time for your nap too? Isn't that why you're all grumpy?" Jiraiya eyed him suspiciously.

"No!" Naruto shouted adamantly. "I can't wait till I'm six. I won't have to take stupid naps then." He murmured to himself. "You got me a stupid present!" He said with more heat and at a much louder volume.

"The present matches the receiver." Jiraiya snickered at the confused look on Naruto's face.

"Whatever," the boy said in a huff. "When I get big -"

"Yeah, yeah you'll beat me up." Jiraiya waved his hand dismissively. "Why don't you go find your Ojichan to go bother?"

A mischievous look crossed Naruto's face. "You know what would make this present better? And make me leave you alone faster?"

"What?" His question left his mouth before he could stop himself.

Naruto held up his hand. He made the universal, distinctive 'give-me' gesture. "Money."

"Why you," Jiraiya narrowed his eyes.

"How else am I supposed to get a girlfriend?" Naruto asked him innocently. "Unless you want Ambe-san and Tochan to know what you've been teaching me." Naruto smiled sweetly.

"What happened to honor and honesty?" Jiraiya grumbled darkly as he reached into his pockets fishing for some bronze pieces.

"I don't know, Jiichan. What happened to it?" His eyes twinkled in triumph. He opened the clasp like a pro and held it out. Jiraiya deposited three bronze pieces into the purse. Naruto snapped it closed. He shook his toad wallet. The four legs bobbed up and down from the motions. "Thank you for the present, Jiichan!" Naruto beamed at him. "I like it a lot more now!"

"Get out of here, Gaki." Jiraiya lunged at him.

Naruto giggled. He took off in a run with his purse over his head. "You can't catch me." He sang as he got further and further away.

"I hope no one does, Kid." Jiraiya's smile slid off his face as the words left his tongue.

The pinkette moved behind the counter in a dance that, while lacking elegance that is only gained through mindful poise, was no less mesmerizing than the ones her girls were known for. She was a cyclone of color. With her soft pink hair, vibrant green eyes, and muted blue kimono. Pink hair that she was recently sporting out in the open at her grandmother's insistence. Something that she was still not entirely used to.

"It seems someone is not getting enough sleep," Reimi studied her perfectly painted nails. Her eyes darted to Sakura's face for a fraction of a second. "Does your newfound status have to do with that?"

Sakura did not look up from the ingredients she was turning into a paste. "No," she answered with a shrug. "Just been a little anxious is all."

Reimi bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking in amusement. The innuendo completely went over her head. There was something refreshing about the woman's innocence.

"Is it true that you're shutting down?" Sakura's emerald eyes glittered in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. She popped against the dark backdrop of the purple curtain and walnut-finished shelves.

"It is," Reimi sighed. She did not miss the emotion that settled into Sakura's eyes. "Don't tell me you're disappointed that my brothel is going out of business?" She teased.

Sakura's cheeks turned pink as she was reduced to a stuttering mess. "No! I just," she bit her lip. "I'm just going to miss talking to the girls."

"Hm," Reimi ran her fingernail along the counter. She rubbed the pad checking for dust. It was immaculate. She leaned forward on the surface. "They will still be around. They will stop by from time to time. I'm sure they will still give you information in exchange for free goods."

Sakura nodded her head. "Any reason why you're waiting another six months before you close?"

Before Remini could answer, the door of the shop opened. Two loud voices, laughing completely unbothered by their volume, filled the space before their bodies did.

"Welcome in," Sakura called out absentmindedly. Her words were greeted with dismissal.

Reimi turned around and watched them with flat eyes and an impassive face. She was so motionless that she could have been a mask if it were not for the fact she blinked every now and then.

They were beautiful. One had long blond hair that was in loose curls all the way down her back. It was soft and shiny. She could tell from across the room. Her baby blue eyes sparkled with mirth. Her purple kimono was regal and of the latest fashion.

'Yamanaka,' Remini labeled her instantly.

Her companion was slightly taller. Her hair was as dark as the night sky and her purple eyes as pale as dawn. Her hair was straighter in texture but no less long than the blonde's. Her kimono was a lighter shade of purple, more lavender than plum. A Hyuuga by the way she carried herself alone.

"I can't believe it's finally happened! And with perfect timing too." The blonde squealed in excitement. "Namikaze-sama is looking for a wife!"

Reimi propped her elbows on the counter. She was in for a show. She did not miss the way Sakura flinched. She caught the movement in the corner of her eye.

"He's a little old isn't he, though?" The Hyuuga's voice held some hesitation as they scanned the shelves.

"Only twenty-six. What's an age gap of eight years? My parents are eleven years apart." The Yamanaka answered back almost snootily.

"Your Okaasan married for money," The Hyuuga pointed out playfully. "Eleven is not all that bad when considering everything she gained."

"That's the beauty of it all. Namikaze-sama has money." The women shared a laugh.

Reimi was entertained. Her ears picked up a soft curse coming from behind her. Sakura broke something.

"And he's young, handsome, so handsome," the blonde brought a hand to her face. "He's going to be Shogun soon so he needs to work fast."

"Hm, they can't be unmarried right?" The Hyuuga ran her hand along the jars of medicine. "This place is so creepy." Her volume was not quite in the slightest.

"I know right?" The blonde shuddered for effect. "But they have what I need," she pulled a jar from the counter. "He has a son though," the blonde frowned as she remembered that particular fact.

"Well," her companion sighed animatedly. "No one's perfect."

Reimi refrained from covering her ears or gnashing her teeth at the high-pitched laughter.

"Vapid," the raven-haired woman said non-too-quietly.

Sakura bit back a giggle. "Reimi-san," she tapped the madam on the shoulder. "I'm all done with your order. Thank you for waiting."

"My pleasure, Sakura-chan," the woman smiled as she half-turned. "It was shorter notice."

"I'll be sure to have more ready earlier in the week for next time." She reached under the counter. She pulled out a bag. Remini heard clicking. "This is for Moko-chan, Rika-chan, and Sakuno-chan. The vials are labeled." She put the bag on the counter next to the jar. "And…" her voice trailed off right before she turned around to peruse the shelves. The grating voices of the other two patrons were blaring in her ears.

"I have the -"

"Hello?" The blonde interrupted Sakura who was still half-turned with a jar in her hand. The pinkette blinked at the blatant disrespect displayed for the elder woman. "Do you carry any custom creams?"

"Um," Sakura lowered the jar to the counter. Her green eyes darted to Reimi's face before locking with the Yamanka's baby blue orbs. "Sorry, I'm in the middle of helping another customer right now," she gestured with her head as if it were possible the two women somehow missed Reimi. Who happened to be at least three inches taller than any of them. "If you give me one minute, I'll help you as soon as I'm done."

Reimi felt their eyes move up and down her body, in dismissal.

The blond brushed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm very busy and in a rush. I don't have all day to wait for you to finish your chit-chat."

Sakura opened her mouth but Remini's long nails tapping on the wooden countertop had her closing her mouth.

"It's quite alright, Sakura-chan. Help out the Himes, hm? I have nothing better to do anyways." Reimi leaned back. She was the picture of tranquility.

The blonde stared back at Sakura smugly. "Of course," the pinkette recovered. "What kind of cream are you looking for?"

"Dark spot corrector," the blonde answered without blinking.

Up close Sakura could see the heavy layers of makeup. That explained why she did not see any dark spots to correct.

"Not in stock. But if you give me a couple of days I can do research and make a cream for you. It will be fresh." She promised.

The Yamanaka and Hyuuga exchanged glances. "Fine!" She put a jar on the counter. "Just make sure to have it ready and make sure it works properly."

Sakura nodded her head. "That will be five copper pieces." She gestured to the wooden tray on the counter.

The woman all but threw them at her. They landed with thuds. One coin spun on its side.

She grabbed the jar and both women turned around with a flourish. The coin that was spinning came to rest.

"The desperation of some people!" The blonde sneered - not quite to the door yet.

"Pink hair," the Hyuuga snickered. "No one in their right mind would dye their hair that shade unless they were desperate for attention."

The sounds of their cackling almost lingered. Much like their overwhelming perfume.

"Sakura-chan," Reimi said gently.

"Hm?" Sakura looked at her in surprise.

"Here," Remini handed her the coins.

"Oh," Sakura held out her palm. Reimi deposited them into it.

"Don't pay them any mind, Sakura-chan." Reimi smiled softly at her. "They're just jealous."

"Of this?" Sakura held up a strand of hair and asked with an incredulous snort.

"Of it all," Reimi answered with patience. "They do not stand a chance. And I think deep down they know it."

"What do you mean?" Her expression matched the confusion in her tone.

"The Shogun-to-be," Reimi reached out and smoothed some flyaways from Sakura's face. Her hand traced the curve of her cheek almost tenderly. "Already chose you."

Reimi could practically see Sakura's heart stop in her chest. The pinkette's lips parted and eyes went wide. It took her a moment to gather her bearings.

"You're mistaken, Reimi-san," the woman set about gathering all of the containers associated with the madam's order and putting them into a larger bag. She was careful to wrap the glass in layers of paper.

"No, Sakura-chan. You're the one who is mistaken." Reimi pressed firmly. "In my extensive experience, men do not do not go out of their way for those they do not care for." She bit her tongue from saying more. She could not spell it out for her. Sakura needed to come to the conclusion herself.

"Whatever he did," Sakura measured her words carefully, "was out of guilt." She ignored the way her stomach twisted.

Reimi tapped her hand against the surface of the counter. She threw her head back and barked out one harsh-sounding laugh. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"It doesn't matter," Sakura answered with a sigh. "I'm practically engaged." The official ceremony had not taken place yet but her word was as good as a bond.

"Engagements are meant to be broken. They are not marriages." Reimi waved off the perturbed look on Sakura's face. "I should know. I've been engaged seven times but married only once." She made her flippant remark. "You have time. Don't be so rash."

Sakura's features hardened in response to the audacity. "Reimi-san," Sakura pushed the bag between them. "That will be two silver pieces."

The woman ran her lip along the bottom row of her teeth. She moved slowly towards her coin purse. She made a show of presenting her with the two pieces of silver.

"You should put a little bit of pimple cream in the spot corrector." Reimi's dark lip parted to reveal white teeth.

Sakura giggled. "Pimple cream?"

"A splash of anchovy oil. Or any fish oil."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sakura said with a chuckle. "Take care, Reimi-san."

"You do the same, Sakura-chan." Reimi waved over her shoulder.

The pinkette's face slipped into a thoughtful mask no sooner than the door had closed.

My Dearest Sakura,

From the bottom of my heart, congratulations on your engagement! Your Obaachan told me everything in a letter! She could hardly contain herself. Her handwriting was so messy in her excitement. I suppose mine is not much better. Fret not that I am not there. Have the official ceremony as soon as possible. Get some clothes made. Cost is of no concern. Your grandparents have deep pockets.

Your Obaachan and I talked. We fixed a date for the wedding. You have two months. Do your shopping. Do not wait for me. I'm running into a small hiccup here with selling the house. Don't worry about it. I will not miss your wedding. I promise.

Oh, Sakura. You Otosan would be so happy. I'm so happy. Take care and I will see you soon!

Love,

Okaasan.

She watched him walk in with a frown on her lips. "Still nothing?" She asked with disappointment dripping off every word of her question.

Akira - the one-eyed Nara - shook his head. "Sorry, Haruno-san." He pressed his lips together to keep his lips from pulling into a smile at the sight of her. She was a vision with her hair all around her. The way the light from the overhead lanterns hit her hair made her look angelic. She was glowing.

"I really thought I had the right ratio of coconut oil this time." She pouted as she muttered to herself. "How did it feel this time?"

"Uh," Akira rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh!" Sakura's eyes widened. "Nara-san, the Sensei is back." She declared excitedly. "You can have him take a look at your eye more formally now."

"Haruno-san," Akira's whole body slumped but she did not notice.

"Excuse me," she rounded over the counter.

Akira watched with dejected eyes as she approached the stoic Sensei, her back to the Nara, and began to take bags from the man. He repressed the urge to shiver when the Sensei's eyes landed on him. His lips were moving but they were both out of earshot.

"There's nothing wrong with him," Kabuto said almost shortly at Sakura's suggestion that he take a look at Akira's eyes.

"Sensei?" She blinked at him in surprise. "Nara-san said he struggles with dry eye." Compassion bled through her voice. "He's been dealing with it for nearly a month now. It warrants at least a look, don't you think?"

"Sakura," Kabuto frowned. "Look around." He waved his hand in the direction of the line. "It's chaotic in here."

The pinkette turned to take in the faces of the queue. Mostly male between the ages of seventeen and forty-five. In all kinds of conditions. "I'm trying my best, Sensei." She turned back around to face him.

"Your hair," Kabuto pointed out impassively. "It's not hygienic."

"What?" Sakura almost took half a step back. That was how floored she was.

"Either cut it or keep it contained. If a hair lands in someone's balm, ointment, or medication it is my name and my reputation that suffers." His lips barely moved as he tore her apart.

Sakura's hand darted over to the side of her head. "I'm so sorry." She did not think of that. Even in the low ponytail - it was restrained - but she saw his point. She gathered it and secured it in a bun with a practiced hand. "I can start covering it again." She offered helpfully with hope. She was still not completely sold on the idea of having it out in the open.

"No." Kabuto shook his head. His eyes were cold when they settled on her again. "Everyone knows it's pink and what it looks like. Covering it changes nothing."

She stood there wordlessly.

"Sakura," Kabuto's expression softened marginally. "This shop had a certain reputation and standard and…" he trailed off.

"I'm lowering it." Her gaze was on her shoes. She clasped her hands in front of her so tightly that she was losing circulation in her fingers.

"You have a certain pull with a certain demographic," Kabuto sighed. He pulled his glasses off his face. "Your hair," he cleaned his glasses with his dark purple handkerchief. "It attracts attention. Good and bad. For every person that comes here to marvel and catch a glimpse with a varying degree of creativity in their excuses while good for business -"

"Is a distraction." She said in a small voice. Her shoulders pulled closer together. "I'm a distraction. For every one person who is in here to see my hair, a person with a real aliment is delayed in receiving treatment."

"Sakura," his voice strained with the weight of having to say the words. "Maybe I should look into finding alternatives?"

"No," she shook her head. "Dying it would take up too much time and work. And it might not even take. And if it's too short, I won't be able to tuck it away. I'll keep it as minimal as possible." She promised with her visage.

Kabuto searched her pitiful face. His own pulled into an expression of sympathy. "I'm just looking out for you. Between this, the rumors, and the dead animals being left at our doorstep, I worry." The crow and butterfly had just been the beginning.

"I know," she smiled softly at him. "I know, Sensei." She swallowed the air thickly. "I appreciate it." She closed her eyes to hide the fact that her smile came nowhere close to reaching them.

"Good." He squeezed her shoulder. "You shouldn't be on your feet for so long."

"I'm alright," she did not look at him as she waved his concerns away. "Let me get started on dinner." She did not give him a chance to respond. She clung his bags to her person and moved back towards the counter. She ducked into the hallway oblivious to the palpable disappointment on the faces that waited for her. Kabuto followed after her with heavy footsteps. He took his place behind the counter. The line dissipated not soon after. Only three remained waiting to be helped.

"Are you sure?" Kakashi's face had lost some of its coloring.

"I heard it myself. And some of the guards also heard it. It's true." Jiraiya wondered if it was too early for a drink.

"Does…" Kakashi looked around for a speck of yellow, "he know?"

Jiraiya snorted. "If he did you wouldn't be asking that question."

"You're right." Kakashi was unsettled which did not happen often. Or at all. This was bad. If the prostitutes already caught word of this. It only meant that it was widespread.

"Apparently, Senju-sama made announcements," Jiraiya sighed wearily. "Shame, the worker who transcribed them got the news out before she did."

"There's a date?" Kakashi blanched.

"For the wedding," Jiraiya said grimly.

"How much time do we have?" The Hatake tugged at his hair in agitation.

"A couple of months. Apparently, Senju-sama said that the Sensei is anxious to make it all official. Something about it being done as quickly as possible. She had to fight him for a couple of months because there was something holding up the sale of Sakura's parents' house."

"When will they be officially engaged?" Kakashi asked with trepidation. It was all happening so fast.

"Next week," Jiraiya answered tightly.

"You don't think that she's…?" Kakashi's eyes went wide and his jaw went slack. It was all happening so fast. From Sakura being claimed to being engaged.

"Kakashi," Jiraiya's eyes were like lumps of coal. Flat and hard. "Don't even think it." The look on his face said that his thoughts were there as well.

It happened like a scene from one of the puppet plays he had watched when he was younger. The wind picked up. The doors burst open. Minato moved through them with a rage that burned deep inside of him. His expression was pure fury personified.

Two pairs of dark eyes exchanged looks. He knew. Minato knew.

"You get Minato and I'll get the sake." Jiraiya was gone before Kakashi could point out that the division of labor was far from equitable.

He gulped. He had to lift his leg with his hands to get it to move in the direction Minato had gone. Kakashi sent a silent prayer to Kami asking for mercy or a swift and complete death if mercy was off the table.

"It's okay," Rin comforted the crying girl. "It's going to be okay."

Anko shook her head and squeezed even tighter into a ball in the corner of their room. She kept shaking her head as she rocked back and forth with Rin anchoring her from moving too fast. She had been like this since she heard the news from the mouths of two workers. It was all anyone at the compound could talk about. The pink-haired Senju and the Sensei.

"It's okay," Rin said words she did not mean.

"Namikaze Minato," Anko said through her tears.

"What?" Rin looked at her with a mix of confusion and concern.

"Namikaze Minato," Anko repeated.

Something clicked for Rin. "Wait here." She shot up to her feet. She was out the door and running towards the compound as fast as she could possibly move.

It took every bit of control housed away from his person to keep his voice level and his expression neutral. His dark, dark eyes took in the partially healed horizontal cut on her forearm. They wandered slowly up. His teeth pressed together to see the scars. The higher up he moved up her arm, the fainter the scars became. Her left arm was the same story.

"He did this to you?" Controlled calm. An eerie calm.

Anko nodded. The teen's eyes were downcast as her tears dampened the floor.

"Is this why Sakura told you to come here?" The latest one corresponded right around the time Anko showed up with the note of demand.

Once again she nodded her head. Rin squeezed her hand. The brunette's face twisted in anguish. Tears clung from her eyelashes.

"Okay," Minato rose to his feet. He brought his hands to rest on their heads. "Thank you for showing me."

"Minato," Tomoha called after him with dread, she grabbed his wrist. "Where are you going?"

He turned back long enough for her to see his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She dropped his arm.

"Look after them," he said in a voice no one recognized.

Tomoha peered at the huddled girls sadly.

He had tunnel vision. His strides were measured and purposeful. His fury cooled. It heightened everything. He saw everything clearly perhaps for the first time since coming back home. The faces and greetings that passed him, he did not pause to register. He would not be distracted.

He saw the gap in the stone wall. He cleared the metal gate as if it were only inches tall, not feet. His movements were fluid. There was no time to complicate matters with thought. He landed on the grass, the foliage cushioned any and all sound.

His dark eyes scanned the clearing as he moved to the center. The large tulip magnolia tree was to his right. The clearing was void of any signs of human life. He stood there, with the sun beating down on his back. The heat did nothing to the licks of cold, calculated flame. The warmth was swallowed until it joined the frigidness he held in his person. The cold, calculated precision of a warrior. Ice in his veins. A will of steel.

Birds chirped overhead. A noisy chorus of tiny hungry mouths. Almost sounding like a swarm of angry bees. The sparrows laid their eggs and welcomed six new additions to their nest. If he was even remotely in the right mindset he would have paused to smile to take it in.

A very different sound came from behind him. Unnatural. Metallic sounding. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes a clear, steely, cobalt. A head with gray hair and glasses came into his line of view. Minato had turned around in the time it took for Kabuto to step forward and close the door of the shed behind him.

The blond stood there. His eyes conveyed his extreme displeasure and disgust towards the man who supposedly took a vow to do no harm. Kabuto smirked. The cold started to heat up.

"Are you here to congratulate me on my engagement?" He asked him casually, flippantly. "The official ceremony is not until next week. But it's just a formality at this point." Kabuto's tone openly taunted Minato. Ridicule dripped from each and every word. He was so smug.

And that burned Minato's insides.

"I am so touched," Kabuto pressed his fingertips to the center of his chest. "To have a friend who cares so much about me to run over here at the news." Kabuto's smirk was cruel and sinister. "I had a special invitation made for you. I had a whole thing planned. It was supposed to be a surprise. But I underestimated just how much this village loves a juicy story."

His face. Minato could no longer stand his face. So he punched him. Right in the nose. Knocking his glasses clean off his smug, smug face. Kabuto stumbled backward. His glasses landed in the grass, cracked. He covered his nose with his hand.

Minato's arm moved to his side. His insides were not placated by the violence. If anything the punch only whet his appetite for it. The restraint he had shown Dazno was out of respect for his father. He owed Kabuto no such thing.

The Sensei touched his nose gingerly. There was blood streaming through his fingers. "Ah," he grunted. "You broke my nose." He said with a frown. His teeth were pink when he finally lowered his hand to reveal his mangled face. His lips pulled into a grin. "All this anger," he laughed. It was cut short by a wince of pain. It brought satisfaction to Minato. "For what?" He sneered. "For a woman who can't stand the very sight of you?"

Minato narrowed his eyes. His hand - the one who had made contact - twitched slightly at his side.

"You must know her so well," Kabuto tested the mobility of his facial muscles. He squinted trying to see as much of the blur as he could. He could make out the yellow of his hair and the white of his clothes as well as his tanned skin. But Minato was composed of blobs of colors and not any actual definition. "After all, you're trespassing and assaulting a man - a Sensei - in his own home for her. She must want it right? She must need you to protect her. Did Anko show you her scars? Were you moved by her tears? Compelled?"

His eyes flashed navy. Gone was the steady steel. It was replaced by tumultuous oceans. The desire to rip off Kabuto's face was only growing. His bloodlust was at an all-time high. He had never been this close to losing all control before. Never.

"You know her so well. The two of you are so close. So it only figures that you must know all about the birthmark," Kabuto brought his right hand under his left pectoral muscle. He lifted his arm. "She has right here." he tapped his side. "Right under the curve of her breast." Kabuto sneered. "It kind of looks like a wing of a broken butterfly."

He snapped. Minato lunged for him. He landed on top of the Sensei and delivered a devastating blow to his rib cage. He heard a crack. He did not care he was breaking his code and putting his hands on a civilian. Kabuto was a monster. He was no civilian.

Kabuto let out raspy laughter with each blow. Minato lost count. The man was coughing up blood. The bloody grin on his face, his teeth pink, did not change no matter how much Minato hit him. The expression fueled his anger. Minato's face was pulled into a primal snarl.

He let out a growl when he felt himself being lifted off the still-conscious sensei. Minato grunted as he tried to swing for the hands that pulled him back and away from his prey. He felt his arms being pinned to his sides and a pair of arms came to envelop him in a cage of flesh and bone.

"Let me go!" An animalistic roar ripped through him.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Kakashi's voice was strained in his ear. "Minato!"

"Stay away from her!" Possessiveness colored the demand he shouted at the medic. "Stay away from them all!"

Kabuto let out a wet-sounding moan.

"I'm going to kill him." Minato fought against the arms that held him back. "He hurt children!"

"If you do that, Sakura will hate you."

'Sakura.'

He froze. Slowly his muscles that had been pumped full of adrenaline went limp. A bucket of ice water to the head. Minato blinked. He took in the bloody body of the sensei. He was gasping for breath. He was seconds away from doing as he said. He almost killed the man.

"Think of Naruto," Kakashi did not let him go just yet. He did not trust Minato to charge Kabuto the second he let go. "You're not Shogun yet! You can't afford a misstep. If you end up in prison for murder, he would have lost both his parents."

His words hit him like a slap in the face. They took the anger and fight right out of him. Minato did not move. Not even when he was free to do so. He hung his head. He had given in to his anger. He lost control.

"Let's go," Kakashi said in a low voice. The Hatake moved around the Sensei who was still writhing on the ground. He jumped over the metal gate. Minato was a half step behind him. His knuckles were bloody and torn when he gripped the top of the gate. The sensation of pain had yet to register.

Sakura heard voices from inside the shop. There were at least two different ones. They were not speaking loud enough for her to make out what they were saying. She rushed to finish the transaction of the last customer in the shop. She patted her obi before she ran behind the purple curtain and down the hallway. She yanked open the last door on the left. The sun was bright on her skin. She brought a hand to shield her eyes from the light.

She stepped on something. She heard a cracking sound. Sakura looked down on the grass, she bent down to lift the object she had broken. Her brow furrowed when she recognized the now misshapen black, metal mass.

"Glasses?" She asked herself not quite putting everything together. It was when she heard a wet groan that she was jerked out of her stupefied state. "Sensei!" She screamed in alarm. She moved to him hastily.

"Sensei," her hands went to cover her mouth. She stared at his black and blue nose in horror. There was blood in the corner of his lips and even on his neck. With shaking hands, she touched the sides of his face. He winced. "Sorry!"

Her eyes scanned his frame. He was not actively bleeding. The blood from his nose had congealed. But his breathing did not sound good.

"Did you hit your head?" She was hesitant to move him.

"N-no," Kabuto answered painfully.

"Blink once for no and twice for yes," she instructed. "Your neck seems to be fine." Her hands moved along his vertebrae. "I think you should be safe to move." Her voice trembled. "Did you break anything? Other than your nose?"

He blinked once.

"Good," she slowly moved the fold of his kimono. She loosened the obi. "I'm going to check your ribs now." He inhaled sharply when her cold hands touched his bruising skin tentatively. He gasped and winced a couple more times as she conducted her examination. "You have a few - I think three - fractures." She pressed her hands with more force. "Sorry," she muttered when he let out a pained grunt. "But the good news is that none of them are bad enough to require them to be repositioned. They will heal on their own."

Kabuto looked up at her blurry face. "Sa -"

"It's me," she smiled at him brokenly. "You're alright now." She saw his hand twitch at his side, she slipped hers into it and squeezed his fingers. "Who did this to you?" She asked knowing full well it was best he not talk.

Kabuto licked his lips. Mm..i..n-"

Her eyes widened. "Namikaze-sama?" She asked in horror.

Kabuto blinked twice.

She did not want to believe it.

'Anko,' her stomach fell. He found out about Anko. She should have seen this coming. This was her fault.

"Okay," she looked at him with guilt as well as concern. "I'm going to move you now. Okay? We need to get heat on your ribs and I need to set your nose." She paused. "It's going to hurt. Are you ready?"

Kabuto blinked twice.

"Alright then," she slowly lifted him to his feet, she slipped his arm over her shoulders and led him to his room. She could not repress the sounds of his grunts and screams of pain as they moved.

She did not realize she was crying until her skin felt tight; hours later while she was watching him sleep, ensuring that he did not die in the dead of the night.

"What is the matter with you?" Kakashi shoved him roughly by the collar.

Minato did not answer. He was too busy glaring at the ground. He sat at the edge of his bed. Jiraiya was already in the room. He was sitting backward on the desk chair. His face was so full of judgment and disappointment that there was no room for anything else. Minato's clothes were stained with the blood of the Sensei.

"Are you trying to push her even further into his arms?" Kakashi asked him with ample exasperation. He was pacing, back and forth. His hands were talking just as much as his mouth was.

"Here!" He pulled a clean shirt from the wardrobe and threw it at Minato.

"They're engaged," Minato raised his testy gaze to Kakashi. His lips folded into a severe frown. He yanked off his shirt. It landed on the ground. He tugged the clean one over his head. "If I don't do something now? When will I? At their one-year anniversary?"

"They are said to be engaged," Jiraiya corrected him coolly. "We'll need to burn the shirt." He looked at the blood on Minato's pants. "Bottoms too."

Minato jerked his head up to meet his uncle's gaze. "What does that mean?"

"It means they are not engaged yet." Jiraiya rubbed his face tiredly. Maybe it was a good thing that Tsunade ran off to get married. He did not have to deal with what Minato was right now. When he had learned the news it was much too late. She belonged to another. He could only grieve. Minato had the option of doing something about it. And there lie the true torture. Hope. Minato still had hope.

"What's the difference?" Kakashi asked him bluntly.

"The difference is that Sakura still has time to back out. And thanks to your little stunt the wedding will no doubt be pushed back. Senju-sama will refuse to marry off her only blood granddaughter to a man who looks like he just sumo-wrestled a bear."

Minato snorted. "I didn't mess him up that badly."

"Right," Kakashi's eyes flashed with heat. "You showed so much restraint." He spat. "You left potential witnesses! In broad daylight. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." Minato bit back the comment in the form of a question where he pointed out that Kabuto was still alive. That was showing restraint.

"Clearly," the Hatake said with an exasperated scoff. "Seems to be a theme with you lately."

"You didn't see what I saw. He hurt Anko. For years. And Kami only knows what he's doing to Sakura." His voice fluctuated as his mind filled him with possible scenarios; very vivid scenarios. He could not think rationally, not when she was in danger.

"She agreed to marry him after she saw that. After she learned the truth," Kakashi pointed out almost gently. "What he did to Anko is inexcusable but she's willing to look past it."

"He could be abusing her the same way," Minato said heavily. "Or worse." He lowered his face into his hands. His bloody and broken skin was tight. A painful reminder of what this day turned out to be. "I don't understand why she would do that." He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get it." The anguish that his heart felt, spoke for him. "Does she think she can fix him? Does she think she can keep the monster under control? Keep him from hurting anyone else?"

Jiraiya sighed. He chose not to acknowledge Minato's questions. "I'll write to Tsunade. See what she says. You in the meantime need to stay away from the Sensei and his shop if you want any chance to be able to come back from this."

Minato nodded glumly, looking more like Naruto after he was thoroughly reprimanded than a grown man.

"Be patient Minato," Kakashi said halfheartedly. "There's probably a reason."

He closed his cobalt eyes. Deep down he knew the reason. It was her family. She believed love to be a burden and right now, he was being shown why. Her whole life it had been nothing but that for her. She thought next to nothing about herself and that made him feel like he was dying.

She was setting herself on fire for her family and there was very little he could do about it.

"What did you do?" Tomoha asked in a voice that burned with a frigid fire. She took one look at him with his head in his hands and his torn-up knuckles. Shizune was right at her heels with a look of great concern on her face. They stood in the doorway not even five minutes after Minato had settled down.

"What?" Minato stood up instantly. The drops of blood on his navy pants were purple and stiff.

Kakashi too was on his feet.

"What have you done?!" Tomoha's outrage stunned both of them into a state of temporary muteness. "She was going home! She was going home!" Tomoha nearly screamed.

"What?" Minato furrowed his brow.

"Tell him," she whirled around. Her dark eyes were unhinged in their gaze. "Tell him where you were."

Shizune lowered her eyes. She felt their faces on her. "I was at the Senju Complex. Obaasan called for me. She told me to come. So I went. She told me that Sakura-chan agreed to come back home. They were going to start the moving process today."

He nearly collapsed onto his knees. His left ear started to ring. His heart skipped no less than two beats.

"That's a good thing," Kakashi said with a frown and a less-than-convincing tone.

"It was," Shizune nodded almost hollowly. Like she was not quite in control of her facilities. "But…."

"Because of me, it's no longer happening." Minato's low voice cut through the restless still.

Tomoha regarded him with disappointment etched into every line of her face. "You broke with your fists what took years to repair - decades."

Minato did not hold her gaze. His eyes were downcast.

"You completely disregarded everything everyone has been saying to you." She carried on her tear. "And now, she's stuck in that shop looking after that monster that much longer. "All because of your inability to control yourself." She paused, her face twisted in a pained expression. "We had her. She was about to be safe. She was going to be at her grandmother's. She was right there!" Tomoha's voice broke. "She was so close."

"I ruined it for her." He inhaled. "I ruined everything for her."

"Ambe-san," Shizune reached for the woman's shoulders. "Maybe we should -"

"No!" She shook her head as she broke from Shizune's limp grasp. "He needs to understand what he just did! What he just undid!"

"Tomoha-san," Kakashi cleared his throat. "He understands." He spoke for his silent brother. He grabbed the failing woman's wrists. "He understands," Kakashi said barely above a whisper. "He understands."

"Let's go make some tea," Shizune smiled gently. The pair - the Kato and the Hatake - led the woman out of the room by the shoulders. Leaving the stunned and devastated blond behind to ruminate on just what he did and undid with one careless act.

He found himself in his son's room. Watching him sleep. It brought him some perspective. A reprieve from everything he was replaying in his head over and over. The lantern he had carried in sat on the nightstand. Naruto had sleepily rolled over to avoid the light coloring his eyelids. Minato's ears registered a crinkling sound. He frowned.

He could see something poking out from under Naruto's pillow. He reached for it. Grabbing the tiny piece of parchment gently. He pulled it towards him, mindful of not ripping it. It crinkled some more but Naruto did not stir. The boy was a heavy sleeper. Only the smell of food or the fear left by a nightmare could get him to wake up at night.

Minato unfolded the piece of paper. His eyes scanned the familiar portrait he had not seen in over six years.

'Kushina.'

There she was in her white wedding kimono with heavy embroidery and all her hair pins and clips in her fiery mane. The picture did not do her any justice. He remembered her being so much more beautiful. Her radiance had made the stars seem like an afterthought. Insignificant and unimportant. She was all he had eyes for on that day. For all of their time together. He had not seen the world beyond her.

He sighed. His cobalt eyes held tenderness as he regarded her. He had asked Tomoha to gather all pictures of Kushina and all her belongings and put them away. He at the time could not fathom being able to look at reminders of her and still be able to function. Never did he dream he would be able to talk about her again openly. It was simply impossible to picture. If he needed to be upright and productive to the world, Kushina needed to be nothing more than a memory locked away neatly in a box in the corner of his brain he never visited.

And in order to do that, Naruto his own son needed to have next to no idea about his mother. Five years ago he believed it would be too painful to have his son bring up memories or questions about Kushina. So, like usual he put his needs in front of Naruto's. All traces of Kushina were wiped away from the compound. That was done to protect him.

But it came at a detriment to Naruto. He had a right to know. He had a desire to know. Minato should have known. Kushina filled their son up with so much love while she carried him in her stomach for nine months that there was no other alternative. Naruto felt that love pulling on him, tugging his heartstrings, to ask about the woman who made his existence possible. Naruto craved that same love outside the womb that he received inside it. Ha had to know.

Sakura without even knowing gave him that. She nurtured a side of his son that had been neglected. She transformed Kushina from an idea to a feeling. She conveyed the love Kushina had for Naruto through the stories she wrote for him from his mother's memories. She made Kushina real. She made Kushina a person. She made Kushina his Okaasan. She gave Naruto that, long before Minato even knew her name.

And she had risked everything to give him what was missing. A picture of what his mother looked like. Something he should have had from the beginning. She turned herself into a thief to give Naruto his birthright. All for Naruto.

It hit him. Hard and fast. Unforgiving and unapologetic. The Sensei did not tell her his identity. The other face in the portrait was what gave it away. She figured it out herself. He felt so ashamed of himself. The shock and betrayal she must have felt when she found out. How she must have convinced herself he was using her and playing with her heart. What he did to her was inexcusable. Especially given everything she endured for his son and for him. And everything even before all that.

She was no different than Naruto. She was starved for love and affection. She saw her own neglect being reflected in the boy. And she did for him what no one did for her. She stood up for him. She showed up for him. She made him the center of her world. Until Minato came along and ruined it all. It was because of him she spun the wrong way.

And he kept making it harder for her to live. Even now. Over and over. He kept making mistakes and she was the one who had to deal with the consequences.

She gave him back his wife and she gave him his son. And all he gave her was heartbreak and devastation. She brought love back into his life. And he reintroduced her to pain.

She took Danzo's beatings. She kept her mouth closed. She donned the label of a thief all so that Naruto could have a picture of his mother. All so he could know what she looked like. She burned herself down to an ember so that Naruto could always have someone to talk to. Now he realized just what Naruto meant when he said he was talking to Okaasan. He was talking to her picture. He was talking to the picture that condemned Saura's fate.

A tear pelted the bottom of the portrait. Smudging the white ink. He folded it carefully and tucked it under Naruto's pillow. Minato with quiet and slow movements crawled into bed with his son. His lips shook as he pressed a kiss on the boy's forehead. He held him. And cried.

A/N: So Sakura made a stupid decision. Kind of on the level of thinking she could take down Sasuke with one poison kunai. Homegirl is super, super traumatized. Barely keeping her head above water. And everyone keeps adding more crap. Minato with his actions. Mito with her perception of reality which she received from a less than reliable source - Mebuki.

Thank you for your thoughtful comments. And retrospectives. Yeah Sakura is oblivious. Yes Sakura is frustrating. Yes she deserves to be shaken and see what it right in front of her. But she's not there yet. Will she get there? Guess y'all will have to stick around to find out. Supposedly smart people being as dumb as rocks. Fun isn't it? In all honesty, hopefully it's not getting to the point of too much. The climax I have planned kind of took this path. And all I can do is hope that you stick around to read it and see the other side. But your frustrations and annoyances with her are noted and very much valid. Maybe I over did it. The drawbacks of writing everything and all the idea that came to mind. Maybe a little trimming and a second eye would have been a good thing. Hopefully I do not kill your interest with my inability to say no to the plot points that came to mind. Anyway, let me know what's racing through your minds.

Please review. Thank you!