Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
A/N:
Dearest Readers,
Hello! Hope you are all doing well. I want to thank each and every one of you that took the time to gather, compile and share your thoughts with me. Your feedback really goes a long way in providing perspective and gaging how the words I put together come across. Your opinions and insights are so valuable to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Sorry for the longer than usual delay. I wanted to get some things sorted in the upcoming chapters before I posted this one. Having a buffer allows me to do quick updates. I am very excited to share the rest of this story with you all. Very much so.
Last chapter was a lot. And I wish I could say that things are going to magically work themselves out quickly and cleanly. It's just not. Things will get harder for our heroes. Things will change on them. The world will shift as more and more pieces are added. When I was playing around with this story in my head it was going to be simple and from just one perspective. But I wanted to explore the character and give them depth. And my goal and intention was to make their motivations if not relatable - understandable. That was the goal. And whether or not the execution lined up with the intention remains to be seen, and I will leave it all for you to judge.
I just want to be transparent. Heaviness is coming. More things will be revealed. And hopefully maybe by the end of it, it will not feel like Sakura is character where everything horrible and terrible in the world only happens to her. That is not how I wanted to use her. That is not how I see her. I see her as someone who has drawn the short straw in life (you will see more in the upcoming chapters - soon) and she is trying to do her best to navigate this world she was born into. This world she did not ask to be born into. A world where woman aren't really seen as more than home makers and baby makers. And not just her but several woman. And how they go about working within the limitations of their society. Because to me that is what is fascinating and what is interesting. The stories of women. Women in a 'man's world.' And again wether or not I can write sympathetic, relatable, strong, complex, female characters I will leave you all - my readers - to be the judge of. I just ask for you all to stick around until the end. We made it this far. There's about thirteen chapters left. And so much is to come. Keep an open mind. But also tell me what you're thinking and feeling. I want to know.
Sorry if that came across as preachy or patronizing. That is not my intention. Sakura - as you may have guessed - hates being pitied. And while there are pitiful moments in her life, I hope that at the end you will agree that she is not someone to be pitied. I hope I can do enough to leave you all with that belief. (Like seriously.)
As always thank you so much for your support, discussion, and perspective. Here is the next chapter. I hope to hear from you all. Thank you!
~L.H.
Chapter 32: The Arrival Following the Departure
Kakashi chanced a glance at the man keeping pace with his horse's leisurely trot as they moved further and further from the snowy mountainside. There was less snow and more slush as the sun's rays had fewer impediments as they reached the ground. His shoulders carried a stiffness in them. It was hard to not give into the sense of deja vu of the last time they journeyed home.
"Maybe the letter got misplaced," he offered up without much enthusiasm or hope. "Or she just got busy." He inwardly cursed at the way his voice sounded. His intention had been to sound reassuring and sure, not meek and uncertain. "Keep your head up, Minato." All that was missing was a half-hearted slug to the blond's shoulder to complete the pity party.
The blond did not acknowledge the comment. He did not need Kakashi to echo the placations he was telling himself. They sounded less likely now hearing them externally from his head.
"Do you think the others are back already?" The Hakata mused. They were the last to leave the camp.
"They are probably still a half a day out." Minato cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse from disuse. Unlike the others who had lost theirs from the loud prolonged singing that did not seem to ever stop since the war ended.
"Lucky bastards," Kakashi muttered. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head up. A blur was slicing through the air. "Is that…?"
A piercing whistle cut him off. Talons clasped. Leather stretched. Feathers folded. A black hawk landed on Minato's extended forearm. The warbird.
The Hatake's mouth went dry. He pulled the reins to Chidori abruptly. The horse complained loudly but Kakashi did not pay him any mind. He was too busy holding his breath as he watched Minato open the container where the letters were held down the bird's back. His eyes were navy when they met his.
"It's from Jiraiya-Ojisan."
'Damn.' Was all his brain could manage at that point.
He pulled the reins and drew a deep breath. His heels slammed into the sides of the horse. He jolted into a trot before gradually picking up speed. His eyes watered, making it difficult to see the horse in front of him. Minato and Kaminari moved faster than the wind but not quite as fast as light because he could just make out a streak of white and yellow against the brown landscape. The bird circled overhead. His caws were like a war drum.
He stepped out through the hallway into his shop just like he did every morning. He busied himself with cleaning the counter and tidying up the space. There were still a couple of hours before they opened for the day. It was then he noticed that the trash bin was close to overflowing. He let out a sigh and made a note to ask Anko to add that to her daily checklist of things to do before she closed up the shop for the night. He grabbed the bin and walked back through the hallway until he reached the right side door that led to the alleyway. The smell of trash and rancid earth - all kinds of chemicals and food waste were dumped here from the adjoining shops - had little to no effect on his stomach. He had grown accustomed to it.
It was drizzling slightly. The air was cold and damp. Kabuto breathed in shallowly. He dumped the contents of his bin into the trash. He was three steps from the door when he heard a sound that reminded him of a cat. He looked over his shoulders. There was nothing that caught his eye. It was not until he had turned the handle that he heard it again. Only this time, he was paying attention. Kabuto rested the bin near the door. He made his way back over to the dumpster. The gray bricks of the ally were slick with years of residue built up. He pushed through the collection of boxes. Dull pink stood out through the dark bags of trash that were too big for the bin. He threw more wet bags to the side, uncaringly of where they ended up. His heart stopped when the amount of pink grew and grew until it trailed up to a head, a broken frame in a soaked, bloodied kimono.
He sank to his knees. With a shaky hand, he reached for her neck. A pained moan left her lips at the slight contact. Proving to him that she was still alive. It was for the best, his hand was shaking way too much for him to have been able to take her pulse anyway.
"You're okay," he whispered tenderly with a broken expression on his face. He moved more hair from her face. "You're alright. I've got you now." He did not notice that the drizzle had turned into earnest rain and that it drenched the back of his shoulders and speckled on his glasses.
Her pink lashes fluttered twice before closing over her eyes once more. Kabuto ran back to the door and yanked it open. He breathed erratically as he ran through the hall before pounding on her door.
"Come quickly," he did not stop moving. Not even to check if she was following after him. Her heavy footsteps were his confirmation. He tore through the door, she was at his heels. Her dark almost-purple eyes widened at the sight in front of them. "Help me get her inside," he bent down to support her head as he eased the suitcase from underneath her. "Try not to jostle her too much."
Anko nodded her head mutely. She came to the other side of the woman. Each took an arm and put it over their shoulders. The woman let out a cry of pain that had Anko winching. Her heart was beating painfully in her chest.
"You're okay," Kabuto panted, struggling to support her dead weight. They half dragged her to the door. Anko was the one to open it. They stumbled a couple of times, earning another pained sound from Sakura until they ultimately set her on her side on a futon mattress, low to the ground, in the vacant spare room.
Anko looked at him with shell-shocked eyes. The woman was so cold. She did not think living things could feel like a corpse.
"We need to stop the bleeding," He said without doubt and emotion. "Go get my kit."
She hesitated. Kabuto's frigid gaze locked onto her face.
"My cauterization kit, go!"
Anko flinched. A primal part of her took over. She shot to her feet and all but ran out the door. She looked over her shoulder. Kabuto was whispering something into the woman's ear, his lips almost touching her flesh. It was his glare that froze her insides and compelled her to keep moving. She returned moments later not entirely remembering how she got there.
"Take off her kimono," Kabuto ordered her.
Anko stared at him aghast.
"I need to assess the damage. Just up to the waist. When you're done, roll her onto her stomach. Slowly." He pushed up to his feet. "Let me know when you're done." He left her alone with the unconscious woman.
Anko stared down at her completely at a loss. She could not get over her pink hair. It was a shade and vibrancy that was even more bizarre than hers. Her hands shook as she came to lean at the woman's bedside. She regulated her breathing, trying desperately to get either her movements or breath under control. She strengthened her resolve. She reached across Sakura's body for her obi. Her fingers were almost then when her wrist was caught in a vice.
Half-lidded green eyes looked at her in a haze of pain and indignation. It reminded her of steel. Hard and unyielding.
"Don't," she commanded. Anko watched as Sakura's face pinched into an expression of agony. "Please," the word left her lips like a prayer.
The grip around her wrist relented. Wordless consent. Anko's fingers fumbled while undoing her obi. She reached down for the waist tie of Sakura's kimono. It slipped off her shoulders, revealing angry red lashes that were oozing, black and blue skin, and soiled chest bindings. Anko gagged. Sweat pooled at her brow. Metal clanged to the ground. Anko without thinking slipped it into her pocket. Sakura grunted as Anko helped her onto her stomach. The pinkette turned her head so that her ear was flat against the mattress. Her kimono pooled down to her waist, preserving what remained of her modesty.
"What do I do?" Anko said in a desperate frenzy.
"C-cut." Her hoarse voice sounded dry. Like two bones rubbing together.
Anko hastily looked around for a pair of scissors. She let out a relieved sound when she found them. She slid onto her knees. She moved Sakura's wet hair out of the way with a hasty hand. She tried to be mindful of not causing any more pain but it was next to impossible. She cut vertically, along Sakura's spine.
"Sorry," she flinched before wincing at the whimper that left Sakura's throat when Anko pulled too hard to separate the bindings from her skin. Some skin came off along with the bindings. Scabs that had started to form split open anew. Anko would not believe the level of cruelty that she was witnessing. There was no spot on the woman's back not covered in either black, blue, or red.
"D-d-don't," Sakura stammered through the pain. Her voice was barely discernible. Like a breath, only audible if one knew to listen for it. "C-cry."
Anko blinked at her, taken aback. She brought her hand to her face to find tears along her cheeks, shocked to find moisture there.
"H-hurts," Sakura's lips pulled into a grimace.
"Sorry," realization hit her first. It was followed by guilt. "Sorry." She shook her head.
"I-i-it's okay." Sakura flinched at the pain caused by trying to smile.
Anko worked slowly to remove the last of the bindings. She was just about to get up on her feet when Sakura's hand caught her wrist again.
'Please.' Her emerald eyes seemed to plead. Anko swallowed audibly. She nodded her head once. A relieved look crossed Sakura's face. Anko noticed for the first time the crusty residue left by her tears around the corners of Sakura's eyes.
"Sensei," Anko called out in a voice that was more steady than she felt. "We're ready," Sakura's hand settled from her wrist to her hand. Anko squeezed it reassuringly.
"Sakura-san…" Kabuto regarded her in a mix of tenderness and devastation. His eyes moved up and down her back. Anko's fingers reflexively tightened around Sakura's. "I'm going to need to close one of these wounds. It's too deep."
If Sakura could, she would have shuddered at the feel of his fingertips tracing the area along the biggest gash, right on her left shoulder blade. She had to settle for closing her eyes and squeezing Anko's fingers weakly.
"It will hurt," Kabuto told her grimly as he lit a match to heat a lamp. He ran a metal tool over the flame over and over until the tip was blue.
Sakura's heart stammered in her chest as she waited. She opened her mouth so that Anko could place a rag between her teeth. Her muffled screams broke out as the smell of burnt flesh filled the room.
His blood was just at a simmer. He was retired. His days of killing a man were behind him. At least, he thought they were. But now as he sat at the table across from the man the need was no longer dormant. His face was a carefully constructed cold mask. A mask that could rival the one his own brother donned. His dark eyes narrowed a fraction as Danzo casually stirred sugar in his tea without a care in the world. As if he did not just beat a human being worse than a dog.
Sakura's blood-soaked kimono and bent frame were burned in his mind. It was a good thing that Minato was not in the compound. The blond would have ripped Danzo apart with his bare hands without a second thought. Maybe it was not a good thing that Minato was not here. Maybe Danzo deserved that fate.
"Where is she?" Jiraiya asked the question he was unable to stop himself from asking just as he had been unable to stop her from being moved in the dead of the night.
"That is of no concern to me," he wiped the corners of his mouth nonchalantly.
"It is to me." Jiraiya's composure held on by a thread. The image of a pink-haired toddler with green eyes, and hair in pigtails, on Tsunade's hip flashed in his mind. How happy she had looked. How happy they had both looked. Sakura's giggles funneled right into the heavens.
"She should never have been employed. She was trouble for this house just as her aunt was trouble for you." Danzo leaned back in his seat. His cup rested against his lips. "I fixed a problem. You should be thanking me."
"Don't hold your breath." He gritted his teeth together. He closed his eyes briefly as yet another sob broke through the air. Naruto had not stopped crying.
"Ambe," Danzo did not even look in the direction of the woman who was standing near the wall with her head bowed. "I am famished, what is for dinner?"
"Chicken," she answered croakily.
Danzo pressed his lips together in a firm line. "Make it pork." He smiled. "I find myself suddenly craving it now that Jiraiya-sama brought the topic up."
"Yes, Shimura-sama."
Jiraiya's hand had to hold down his clenched fist to keep it from striking the man.
Another day lost to sleep; lost to being in and out of consciousness. She struggled with identifying what was real and what was a hallucination or dream. Her whole body was sore. It throbbed. Even when she did not move. Breathing alone was more painful than it had been at any point in her life. Breathing nearly took the life right out of her.
The spoonfuls of water made it through her lips. That she was aware of.
Waiting for the gate to be open took years off his life. Kakashi wordlessly took the reins of the white stallion as Minato marched into the compound. He saw no faces. He stopped for no one. The doorframe nearly came off into his hands as he stepped into the room. His sniffles burned in his ears.
"T-To-c-chan!" A teary-eyed Naruto launched himself at Minato. The boy's tears soaked the front of Minato's shirt. He had thrown off his armor somewhere in the compound on his quest to the main house. The heavy cotton blend absorbed the wetness.
"Shh," he cupped the back of Naruto's head. "It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I'm here now." His hand moved up and down the length of Naruto's back. He lifted him into his arms and rocked him until the boy's sniffles died down and he gave into the pull of a restless sleep.
Naruto's rhythmic heartbeat against his chest was a reminder of what was at stake. It fortified his composure. The composure that was now a detriment. He caught Tomoha's eyes when he slowly turned around. The woman resembled a ghost. Full of regret and no direction or hope. Lost between two worlds.
"Where is he?" He did not recognize the sound of his own voice.
"The study." Her throat was raw from the tears she shed but let no one see.
He was a force. Like the wind. Felt and heard but untouchable. He lowered Naruto to his bed. He stepped out of his room. His boots dirtied the pristine floors. Tomoha's house sandals clip-clapped behind him. He twisted and turned in his quiet, controlled fury. A tsunami held back by his control. His eyes hardened to steel and his heart stilled. The tension in his shoulders could erode mountains.
He did not bother with decorum. He did not bother with pleasantries. He opened the door. Danzo looked at him impassively.
"Welcome home, Namikaze-sama." His raspy voice grated every single one of Minato's nerves.
"What happened?"
"Sit," he gestured to the cushion across from him as if he had all the time in the world.
Minato kicked off his shoes before stepping onto the platform and ultimately settled into the cushion. He sat back on his heels. His back was as straight as a rod. His spine was taut with the very tension that had taken up residence in his stature.
"We had a thief in our midst." Danzo drawled. "I took care of it. I made sure to leave an impression with the rest of the staff." His lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile before flattening at the memory of her being dragged by the hair in front of everyone. The very hair she had so painstakingly tried to conceal.
"Tell me everything, Shimura-sama," the words were like acid on his tongue.
A cruel gleam cast over his eye. His lips moved. His face did not change. Not even with the color drained from the Master's face as he described in gruesome detail just how he handled the problem.
A hiss left her lips as she lowered herself slowly into the warm, cloudy water. It smelled of medicinal herbs. It burned her nose. Her breath hitched as she leaned her head back against the headrest. Her pink hair was coiled in a bun over her head. Her eyes - almost faded in luster - moved slowly from the ceiling to the wooden slits to her left. They allowed air to circulate around the room. It also left her feeling so exposed.
Her face had become estranged from expressions. All she knew was nothing. The salt in the water stung at the countless lashes on her back. A red, angry mass of skin folded over her left shoulder blade. The burn mark was discolored and shiny four inches in length and three in width. The lashes may heal but that would remain. Her fingers gripped the edges of the tub. The water came up to her neck. It stung before it soothed her aches and pains until they were but a dull hum in the back of her mind.
She needed a job. She needed a way to support her family. The singular coin that Tomoha had given her would not go far. Her mother would notice the difference immediately. She also needed funds to pay back the doctor not only for her father's treatment but hers as well. The man refused to hear any words against the notion that Sakura stays here where he could easily keep an eye on her while she recovered. She was not there yet. And with each passing day, her debt grew. It would not take long before she could ever come out from underneath it.
She sighed. It no longer hurts to breathe, physically. Breath was coming fine. It was a strong and consistent reminder she was recovering. But mentally, it was another story. Each breath was taxing. Each breath ate away at her freedom. Each breath reminded her of just the cost of taking it. She sat in the water until the bath grew cold. She leaned into Anko as the girl helped her out and wrapped a robe around her body. Another debt she would be unable to pay. The two of them walked wordlessly to the spare room occupied by the pink-haired woman.
Just like the past couple of nights before, Anko's small fingers would work the salve into the wounds on Sakura's back. They were healing but the pinkette was just as broken as the day she was brought in, nearly three days ago.
Minato stood in the doorway as they shuffled out of the room. Their clamoring voices were welcomed. It provided a momentary reprieve from the twisted, winding, and frankly grim paths his mind had familiarized itself with. One face lingered. Stern, eyes full of understanding and intelligence. He was used to Shikaku studying him. Reading him. He had more than five years of that on the war front and countless years as they grew up together. There was very little that surprised him about the Nara heir and the converse was also true.
"Shimura-sama," Shikaku dipped his head in a bow.
Minato turned his head to finally acknowledge the face and frame that was responsible for the sounds of a dragging cane against the covered ground of the veranda.
The man came to a stop, completing the triangle. The shape that was said to be the strongest of them all.
"Nara-san." Danzo's lips pulled into a frown. "What do we owe the pleasure?"
Minato felt their dark eyes on him. "Just a meeting of some friends, Shimura-sama," Minato answered impassively.
Danzo rested his hands on the rectangular hilt of his cane. It was of a dark cherry finish. It glistened. For a second it was stained in crimson.
"I saw some faces I do not recognize." Danzo regarded the backs of the heads that were crossing the courtyard. Each and every one of them - the ones he knew - were the heirs of their respective clans.
"Some new and some old," Minato answered cryptically. "But all friends."
"Hm." Danzo tapped his cane three times on the ground as he peered into Minato's face; searching it for anything. "Well, do not mind me." The man picked up his cane and set it right in front of Minato. He slowly shuffled between the Namikaze and the Nara. Neither man moved. Not even until the sounds of Danzo's dragging feet and tapping cane were nothing but a distant memory.
Minato turned on his heel and walked back into the study. Shikaku did not say anything because the sharp line of Minato's clenched jaw said it all. The conflict was far from over. The sound of the door closing was the only farewell that graced Shikaku's ears.
"You should be in bed," Kabuto put down the scroll he was studying to help her sit down on a stool.
"I'm alright," she smiled weakly at him. "Thank you, Yakushi-Sensei."
His dark eyes studied her closely. "Are you still bleeding?"
"Hm," she nodded her head distractedly. "I opened some of the scabs again when I itched."
"Sakura," he said her name with a long sigh. Somewhere along the way he abandoned the honorific and she did not allow herself to have an opinion on that fact.
"I know," she lowered her eyes. Her hand moved to the base of her neck to tug down her bandana. He had seen her hair. And while he did not react negatively. He did suggest that she kept it hidden away anytime she decided to come to the front of the shop. For her own safety, he insisted. Distracting is how he had described it. Along with attention-grabbing. Both good and bad. And she agreed. Half the compound had seen her hair. If word got out, she would not be surprised if the whole village knew by now. An Oni walked among them. With hair as pink as her namesake. She did not know what Tsunade and Dan were thinking when they named her.
"You haven't been eating," he said with a frown.
"I eat." Her head bowed. She spoke to her lap.
"Not enough. You need to eat as much as you can, even if you're not hungry if you want to regain your strength as soon as possible. No blood in your urine anymore right?" There was an edge to his voice.
"No," she was too numb to be mortified at such a question. It was also not the first time it was asked. The shock value had gone down with repetition.
"Sakura, I will have Anko-chan check." He warned her.
"I'm fine," she grimaced. "I'm sorry."
"Sakura." Her eyes slid closed as a hand gripped her chin gently. She felt her head being lifted up until she met a pair of warm, dark eyes.
"Marry me."
Her heart stopped. Her ears buzzed. Her breath hitched. All thoughts cleared her mind. She saw a blank page in her mind's eye. Her lips wedged open.
"Sensei?" Her voice was as stunned as her eyes were wide.
"Finding you the way I did, put everything in perspective for me. I care about you, Sakura. We can help each other. We can build a life together. This could be your life." He held her face in both his hands.
'Use that big forehead of yours to think of something!'
Her insides clenched because she could not recoil from his touch. He owned her. She knew that. It was only a matter of time before he did. She swallowed back the bile in her throat.
"Sensei," she licked her bottom lip. She measured her words that she would trade circumstances and freedom. "Make me your servant, not your wife."
He leaned back, releasing her face. "Sakura, what do you mean?"
"I keep being a bother to you, Sensei. I don't know how to stop being your burden." She felt her tongue grow thick. "First my Otosan and now me. This is how I repay you. This is how I finally stop being a burden to you. Think of me as your tool." Her voice was woven with a desperate plea.
"Sakura," he shook his head. "You are not a burden. I do not see you as that. We can be equals."
"We are not equals, Yakushi-Sensei." She shook her head, walking the line between being adamant and meek. "We can never be equals. Even if we were," she cleared her throat. "My obligations are to my family. I need to support them. That will always come first." She spared him an apologetic look. "Please understand. I'm not meant to marry. Being someone's wife is not within my capabilities."
Her solemn expression coupled with her earnest tone had something shifting inside of him.
"I understand," Kabuto's expression softened, hiding the disappointment in her non-answer answer. "You can work here. I will give you a job. Like I offered before." She saw something she hated in his eyes: pity. But she was in no position to argue with its presence. Not when it was doing her every favor.
"Thank you, Sensei." She dipped her head, unable to meet his gaze. "I won't let you down."
"I know, Sakura." His voice was gentle and smooth but it did nothing to assuage the turning in her stomach. "Let's get you back to bed."
She winched and grunted as he helped her to her feet. His fingers gripped the side of her hip firmly as her arm slung over his shoulders. They shuffled slowly to the back room. Sakura used her free hand to use the wall for support. She ignored the way his fingers dug into her skin.
She alternated between brushing her hair with her bamboo comb and wincing at the lingering pain caused by moving her muscles a certain way. She was still weeks away from being fully healed. The cauterized wound was tight and uncomfortable. A badge of shame for her ordeal. She stared at her reflection. Her skin tone seemed almost gray in the dim lighting; her eyes did not remind her of her mother or brother. She barely recognized the muted, dull color. Her pink locks, locks that were almost always hidden away, fell to her hips. Soft and luxurious. Taunting her with what she could never have. What she could never be: normal. That was not within her reach.
Curiosity burned in her. She loosened the knot around her waist just enough to slip her shoulder from it. She pulled the fabric with a hiss. The fingers of her right hand poked and prodded the unsightly wound. Now her body was slowly representing what she was, a monster. She moved the kimono even lower as she tried to assess the damage. The skin was turning purple. It looked angry. Lashes going in every which way were red against the purple. She inhaled sharply as the cotton fabric brushed up against a fragile scab sending jolts of pain.
Something reflected off the mirror, blinding her. She whirled around. Arms moving to cover herself. His hungry eyes devoured the sight of her pale flesh.
"Sensei," she whispered his name. She did not hear him come in. She took a step back for every one he took forward until she felt the cool, smoothness of the mirror. She looked down as he pressed up against her.
"What's wrong, Sakura?" He dipped his head until his lips brushed against her ear. "Is this making you uncomfortable?"
She shivered. "W-wh-what…" she found herself unable to get the rest of her question out. His hands gripped her wrists roughly.
"What did you call yourself?" His voice dropped making it seem all the more sinister. "My tool?" He answered his own question.
"Please," she begged him. "Don't do this."
Her eyes snapped closed as he pulled her arms down. Her kimono came to a stop at her waist.
Her chest rose and fell with each pant as she chased after her racing heart. Beads of sweat aggravated her injuries, making receptors in her brain light up. She pulled her kimono closer to her. The nightmare was so vivid. Grotesque in detail. She shuddered at the feel of his hands on her. Her own fingers traced the places he had touched. Relief spread in her. It was not real.
'For now.' The voice in her head, her only familiar company, reminded her. The only thing, the only adult in her life, to never have lied to her or abandoned her. It was the only thing she could rely on to always be there with her. Too bad that the voice was as hostile as the rest of the world.
A scowl on a little face. Furrowed blond brow. A disgruntled grunt. The calm before the chaos. Naruto pushed the textbook off the table, sending it airborne before it crashed to the ground. Landing with a loud thud that seemed to echo. The wooden wispy willow in Chinen's hand slammed down on the back of the boy's hand. Naruto yelped. His cobalt eyes glared at the tutor. He clenched his hand to his chest.
"I hate you!" The boy sneered. "I'll never listen to you!" He kicked his reluctant sensei's shin before fleeing the room.
A daily dance. Naruto screamed as he ran up and down the hall, disrupting anything and everything in his path causing a headache to form behind Minato's eyes. His already clenched jaw tightened.
"I'm so sorry," Tomoha sighed deeply. "He won't listen."
"It's like last year all over again," Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe worse." He grimaced as Naruto kicked a pile of clean metal dishes to the ground. The dishwasher stood on her feet looking completely overwhelmed as he raced through.
"The boy needs a mother," Danzo said through tight lips. "He's out of control." He tucked his hand behind his back. He lifted and lowered his cane slowly. "Try to get him to keep it down. It's almost time for my afternoon nap. I'm an old man after all."
Minato looked on silently as Naruto tugged all the laundry from the lines. The look in his eyes only grew more and more tormented.
He sat back and watched Naruto sleep. He had tired himself out after wreaking havoc on the house. Minato did not have it in him to reprimand the boy. He was devastated. He was angry. He was acting out. And all of this was preferred over the tears. Naruto had shed more tears in the weeks that Sakura was gone than he did at any other point in his life. Tomoha had made the claim. Minato almost welcomed the change in the beginning. Naruto could do what none of the adults could: he acted on pure emotion.
He retreated from the room without producing a noise. It did not take him long to find Tomoha and Jiraiya. Kakashi was reading in his room which was next door to Naruto. Someone had to keep an eye on the boy.
"He planted the clip on her," Tomoha barely waited for the door to close before speaking. "Sakura didn't do this." Like a broken record. It was Tomoha's mantra. Over and and over again. She said what they all believed to be true. But it did not matter. For belief was not enough.
"The Bastard is cocky. He knows that by the letter of the law, he did absolutely nothing wrong. She admitted to stealing it, in front of him, me, and Tomoha. He's rubbing it in." Jiraiya's expression did not betray the anger in his eyes.
He beat her. Over and over. He described it in graphic detail. He could almost hear her screams in his ears when he lay awake blinking into the darkness instead of succumbing to it.
"We need to find her." Minato's voice was collected as he spoke. He disassociates the two. Neither commented on Minato's lack of ability to say her name.
"I'll keep checking in the evenings." Jiraiya sighed. It went without saying he would do it discreetly. Danzo could not get suspicious.
"He has help. The guard who searched her room must be in on it." Tomoha smoothed the hair on her head.
"I'll see if we can leverage that lead," Jiraiya spoke curtly.
"Someone should check with the Sensei," Minato's lips barely moved as he spoke. "Her injuries from what you saw and he described were extensive enough to warrant medical attention."
Tomoha and Jiraiya exchanged uneasy glances.
Sometimes when she is at her lowest she lets herself play make-believe. But only under the boundaries of her closed eyelids. She would lie there, on her side, perfectly still, and imagine the sound of the rooster cawing. She would smile as she tightened her bandana around her head and stepped out into the compound. She would milk the cows, collect the eggs, and have breakfast before giving the boy his lesson. Then she would finish as many of the chores as she could while he slept. He would rise and they would resume with the afternoon lesson. She would bathe. She would have dinner. He would read his bedtime story. Those were the moments she cherished. They were the only moments of purity.
Not tainted by the lies and by the trap that she fell into. The smiles, the glances, the touches. It was all to lure her in. And like a moth to a flame, she fell for it. He was the reason for her ruin. He was the reason she threw it all away. He was her undoing.
Minato.
A man she had no interest in getting to know beyond what was absolutely necessary to give Naruto what he needed, a link to his mother. She saw a boy lonely and struggling. She saw herself in him as much as she saw her brother. He was the first crack. Naruto was the catalyst for her growing weakness.
He wiggled himself into her heart despite her knowing just how dangerous it was for him. For her. She knew, she knew in her bones that she was poison. But she let him get hooked all the same. And she was hooked on him. The boy was the reason why she let her guard down. The boy was the thing that was leveraged.
Minato lied to her. Minato used her. Minato broke her. Minato used Minori to get to her.
And she let him. The hints were there all along. How Naruto and Minori could never coexist in one place. Their nearly identical coloring. He told her he was in love with Kushina for Kami's sake. To address the letters with the Master's name and not his own. How everyone referred to him by his job and not his name. How she never got in trouble for spending time with him. Tomoha did not bat an eye or pose any questions when she handed the letters that she wrote with her own hand to Minori. She knew. Tomoha and Miharu both knew. They mocked her with the prospect.
All the signs were there but she was the illiterate one. She fed into her delusions. Danzo was right. He was using her and she let him. She gave that man her rationality. She gave him her ability to think and see clearly. She lost everything that had served her so far willingly to him.
And for what?
She was paying for it now. She coveted what belonged to another woman. Not Kushina but the Master's - Minato's - future wife. Naruto's new mother. And the universe was providing her with swift justice. It was putting her in her place because she had forgotten.
She was nothing when she came to the Namikaze Residence. She was even less now. She had lost honor in addition to losing her focus. She should have listened to Tomoha. Her work should have been what she busied herself with. Not entertaining scenarios that could never be. Her dreams were costing her dearly.
In moments of weakness, she let herself think about the golden opportunity she let slip through her fingers. Hindsight provided clarity. She never should have opened up her heart. By opening that window, she closed the door on her sovereignty.
She had broken her promise. Her word meant nothing now. It meant even less than her. She did not put Naruto first. It was fitting that she lost him too. The only innocent in this all. His screams, his screams would never leave the recess of her mind for she was the reason behind his agony and his heart. Another little boy that she led to ruin. She deserved to come back as a dung beetle in her next life. She was filth.
Then she would stop berating herself and her decisions. Because she still needed to function. She would remind herself that she still had work to do. So she would stop.
She would blink her eyes open. Any smile or lingering warmth would vanish leaving a gaping hole. The room she was in was bigger. The bed was softer. The sheets were thicker. The house she was in had a smaller courtyard. It had hundreds and hundreds of herbs and jars and things to heal. It had countless recipes for elixirs and potions spun from a lifetime's worth of research and knowledge. It had everything. Expect a potion to forget the life she so carelessly threw away. Nor did it have a poison she could take that would turn her heart back into stone.
Anko looked up at a familiar face that pushed through the door. She blinked in surprise. The light was completely gone from her brown eyes. Her skin almost looked ashen as if the joy and radiance had been sucked right out of her. She no longer looked like a child. Her expression was much too solemn and tragic to have any place on a child's face.
Rin's footsteps were as tentative as they were heavy. The teen curled her fingers at the edge of the smooth counter. Her brown eyes imploring, too scared to have hope but not bleak enough to be jaded.
"Have you seen her?" She whispered. Tears began to gather in the windows of her soul. Her eyes were already pink and puffy.
Anko felt something in her gut kick painfully. She licked her lips slowly. Her eyes moved up and down Rin's face. "No."
Rin's head hung low. Tears met the ground. Her shoulders started to shake. Anko looked on, frozen in place.
"I'm sorry." The dark-haired girl said solemnly.
Rin wiped her tears. "You'll let me know if you see her?"
"I will," Anko crossed an 'X' over her heart while crossing her middle finger over her index on her other hand that was hidden away under the counter.
"Thanks, Anko-chan." Rin grimaced through her tears. Tiny crystals of light glimmered at the edge of her eyes. She left just as she came. Empty-handed and with diminished hope.
Anko did not react when a hand came to grip her shoulder. The touch was neutral. The promise was not. It gave her two soft taps. Pleased.
"It's time for Sakura's bath." Kabuto reminded her. Unnecessarily. She knew Sakura's schedule. She was Sakura's schedule.
Anko moved swiftly away from the counter to do as she was told. Her mouth was locked, she could not tell Rin that Sakura was here, no more than she could tell Sakura that Kabuto was everywhere.
She dozed off. The calming smell of mint, eucalyptus, and lavender coupled with the warm water had coaxed her into a state of serenity. She preferred to see the world with her eyes closed these days. She was jerked awake at the sound of a branch snapping. Her eyes searched wildly.
"Hello?" She called out, peering through the inch-wide slits in the wall to her left. She kept everything below her chin in the almost opaque water. Her brows furrowed as she tried to see in the early hours of twilight. "Anko-chan is that you?" Her voice wavered.
She jumped at two fingers tapping her shoulder. She looked wildly at a pair of dark eyes that stood to her right.
"Anko-chan," her breath was up and down as she uttered the name.
"You called? The girl asked her in a flat tone.
"Oh," Sakura looked over her shoulder at the wall of gaps behind her. "I thought I heard something outside."
"Must be a squirrel. They get pretty big. Fat enough to break branches." Anko looked at her expectantly. "Ready?"
Sakura turned back to look at the girl. "Right, you're right. Must be a squirrel." She muttered distractedly. She held out her arm and the teen pulled her out of the bath. Sakura shivered even after she had slipped into the robe.
Her wet footprints glistened on the dark stone floor. She wrapped her hair in a stark, white towel held out to her by Anko. They made their way to the spare room where Anko would painstakingly apply the ointment on Sakura's back. And Sakura would spend the whole time apologizing for being a bother to which Anko would say nothing. Her dark eyes would periodically dart to the door. Which would go unnoticed by Sakura who had one foot firmly set in reality and the other in beautiful lies her brain called memories.
"Why?"
Minato sighed. "Naruto…."
"Why?" The boy asked again with aggressive adamance.
"It's complicated," he raked a hand through his yellow hair. It had finally grown back to the length he preferred it.
"Make it simple then. Break it down for me." His cobalt eyes which were larger in size shone back at him.
Minato bit the inside of his cheek at Naruto's statement. A statement he no doubt learned from Sakura. "Naruto, something -"
"What? What happened?" Naruto's impatience got the better of him again.
"Will you let me finish?" Minato's voice was giving way to testiness.
"Go already," Naruto emphasized his words with his hands.
"She had to leave for some time, she needed to take care of some things -"
"You're lying." Naruto glared at him with a ferocity that caught him off guard. "She would have said bye-bye to me."
"Naruto, it was unexpected. She didn't know she would have to leave." He looked over at the book on the nightstand. "Why don't we try to read, hm? Maybe it will make us feel better. We can read my favorite book. I've been wanting to share it with you for a while now -"
"I want Sakura to read to me!" Naruto screeched.
"Naruto, you need to behave," Minato said with a stern frown.
"I need Sakura!" He crossed his arms.
"Naruto," he sighed deeply. "Sometimes people only come into your life for a short time and it -"
"Sakura wouldn't leave me! She's not like you! She's not like Okaasan!"
His words were like a knife to the heart. "Naruto."
"I'm going to go find her!" He sat up in his bed. Minato's hand on his shoulders kept him from progressing.
"Keep your voice down. You'll wake up your Jiichan and Ojichan."
"I don't care!" Naruto's eyes began to fill up with tears. "You don't care about her!" He accused, angrily. "You don't care about me, Tochan."
Minato pulled him into an embrace. One that Naruto melted into. He held the back of Naruto's head. "Naruto, it's going to be okay. We just have to be patient, okay?" He hugged him tighter. "I care about you more than anything. I want you to be happy."
"Why aren't you looking for her?" He let out a broken wail. "Why aren't you doing anything?!"
Minato closed his eyes in response to the strike his son dealt him with his pointed and valid question. "You just have to be patient." He repeated.
"Why does everyone always leave?" Naruto's heartbroken voice, like glass on a raw nerve called out. "Did I do something wrong?" Broken, and shattered were his words between his ragged breaths.
"No," he held him close. "This is not your fault. I'm here now. I'm not leaving. No one is leaving. You did nothing wrong."
"Tochan?" He sniffled. "Can you tell me a story?"
"Yes," he closed his eyes. He rocked back and forth with Naruto cradled to his chest. He told him the story of a little boy who's father always came back. No matter what.
Naruto's hand in his was warm and small. Their bellies were full of ramen but judging from the fact that it took Naruto half an hour to eat his meal, he found it just as bland as Minato did. His low-effort attempt to raise Naruto's spirit produced low results.
"Do I have to?" Naruto asked with a scowl.
"It could be fun, keep an open mind." Minato forced excitement into his voice. His words sounded hollow.
Naruto pinched his face together in a look of displeasure. "Shika says his Sensei is really boring. He makes him sleepy."
"Shikamaru-kun finds everything boring from what his Otosan says." He smiled softly.
"I won't have to see Mean Man again?" Naruto absentmindedly scratched at the red welt left behind by the Chinen's act of discipline or abuse depending on perspective.
"Yes. You don't ever have to see Chinen-Sensei again." Minato did not remember the man being like this when he was younger but he was also a more diligent student than Naruto. He had a scarier father than Naruto did.
"Okay," Naruto shrugged. "We can try." He grinned. "But when Sakura comes back, she's gonna teach me."
"Naruto," Minato regarded him.
"I know. I know. It's a secret." He zipped his lips and threw away the key. "I won't tell."
"Okay," Minato answered, satisfied with the conditions. His eyes narrowed slightly as a particular establishment just came to the edge of his view.
A loud bell chimed. He jerked his head. Cobalt collides with obsidian. Minato's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Lee-san."
"Namikaze-san!" Lee bellowed. It is a small miracle that Naruto did not shove his fingers in his ears. He thought about it. Minato could tell by just glancing at his face.
"You have weird eyebrows." The blond boy pointed out quite literally with his finger.
"Sorry about him," Minato offered the man an apologetic smile. He pushed down Naruto's hand with a smooth motion. Lee still had one foot in his shop. As he leaned forward. Balanced on his toes and the door it seemed like
"I didn't hear." The man frowned.
Naruto inhaled a big breath. "I said -" Minato covered Naruto's whole face with his hand. Naruto pouted.
"Did you need something, Lee-san?" Minato kept his face turned fully towards the man so he had a clear view of his lips.
"I…" Lee looked at the ground in a very not-Lee-like manner. "It's nothing. I'm sorry for bothering you." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Lee-san, you had intentions when you opened the door. Just say what is on your mind." Open and judgment-free was the glow his demeanor gave off.
"Namikaze-san," Lee looked at the letters tucked away into the inner pocket of his dark green haori. "There's a worker at the compound that sends letters to their family. It's been a few weeks since I've seen them." He rubbed the ridge of his nose in a thoughtful manner. "I guess you can say I'm concerned. I have their letters. I've been so swamped that I haven't had the chance to hand-deliver them to the compound. I was wondering if you could be so kind as to give the letters to them. Or have Ambe-san do so? I'm sorry if the request is beneath you."
"It's not." Minato held out his hand. "I'll pass on the letters to them." His eyes focused on the characters that spelled out a name he was stubbornly refusing to bring to his tongue. "I can assure you of that."
"Thank you, Namikaze-san." He crossed a fisted hand over his chest and bowed. A customer walked into the shop and the door closed.
"Tochan?" Naruto tugged on his hand. His finger dangled from his nostril. "Who are the letters for?"
"Don't pick your nose, Naruto." He tucked them under his arm.
Naruto scrunched his face in response. "Can we get candy?"
"Sure."
Her loose yellow braids flowed behind her like streams of saffron. The gray of her kimono blended with the sky. Her amber orbs surveyed the dark green gate with malice like she was going to bend the fortified steel with the heat of her gaze. She barely registered the weight of the leather suitcase in her hand. It was an assurance policy. At best she would only need it for a night, at worst indefinitely. She was not one to repeat the same mistake twice. She was much too introspective for that.
The sound of a pair of heels - the latest fashion in the Land of Water - crunched into the gravel next to her. Leather scraped against wood as yet another matching suitcase was pulled from the cart. Shizune dusted her black kimono. It was as dark as her hair and her mother's mood. She adjusted her shoulders before turning to face the gate.
Tsunade did not bother addressing the guard. She did not need to announce herself. Her forehead did that for her. The Senju Clan was dying but it was not dead yet.
"Open this gate," she commanded with a confidence that served her well her whole life. The confidence that mediocre men seemed to always have within reaching distance to call upon whenever they so damned pleased.
Shizune's flat eyes did not bother to flicker to the guard's faces as they stared at each other confounded on what to do.
"Now!" Tsunade barked. She was done being pleasant.
Maybe it was the mark of the Senju - the lilac rhombus on her head - or maybe it was the manner in which she spoke in her clipping tone or maybe they were just not paid enough to give a damn, for undisclosed reasons the gate groaned open.
Tsunade did not bother to take in the grandeur of the compound. The very sight that left so many breathless. She had seen better and bigger. She had grown up with more and left it all behind for considerably less. Her heels - the ones that matched her daughters - crushed gravel to dust with each step. Her toenails were painted a bright red to match her hands. Socks were but a concept for her. A concept she did not choose to engage in.
She carried her head high despite her short height. The Senju women were compact as her mother called it. Sakura was the smallest of them all. Stunted in growth on account of her neglect. Neglect that Tsuande had a hand in. Her anger mixed with long-withstanding guilt as she navigated the halls with ease. She even remembered which one was his quarters. She had thrown him over the wall after all when he had shown up by her window in the middle of the night when they were both young to confess his undying devotion. She had nearly yanked his ear clean off his head when she dragged him back to the other side of the wall before hoisting him over it. Jiraiya almost broke his neck at fifteen. And she was the real reason behind it, not some made-up story about how he fell asleep in a high tree only to fall out of it.
Shizune, the ever-dutiful daughter, was at her side like her shadow. Never straying further than an arm's length. She was the one constant that Tsunade could always count on. She was closer to her than her own blood could be. Her insides panged. That was of her own doing too. She searched the compound for flashes of pink or green or white. It had been a number of years, she lost track of exactly how many since she last saw her niece. But she would recognize her. Her insides would recognize her. They always ached when they parted ways. Reminding her of how deep the pain of that first goodbye was. The goodbye that never should have happened.
Tsunade did not need to turn her head to know that Shizune was mirroring her task. Finding her was why they were here. Uninvited and unannounced. A wall impeded them.
Two pairs of black heels stopped. Amber hardened to stone. "Danzo." Her lips curled in distaste.
"Ah Hime," the raven-haired man greeted her with his hands overlapping on top of the rectangular hilt of his cane. "Forgive us. We must have missed your announcement letter. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I'm here to see my niece." She nearly spat out. She despised the man. Ever since he betrayed her uncles. The bastard left them for dead to save his own life. Iwa did not show them any mercy. All they had left to identify Tobirama with was part of his face plate on a pulverized skull. Her other uncle, the youngest brother, had even less left of him. A scrap of fabric with the family crest was all they had to bury.
"Your niece is no longer at the employ of this residence," Danzo answered smoothly.
Shizune's eyes widened while Tsuande's narrowed. "And why the hell not?"
"As lovely and eloquent as ever, Hime." His lip tugged into a ghost of a smirk.
"I'll show you just how lovely I can be if you don't answer the question soon, old man." Tsnade's nostrils flared exactly once. Like a raging bull ready to impale with its horns.
"Your niece was a thief. She had been dealt with."
Horror flashed across Shizune's face. She looked at the blonde woman who was shaking with her irateness.
"What did you just say?" Tsunade's voice dropped. It was low and cold enough to turn water into ice.
"Shimura-sama," Shizune broke the standoff. "There must be some misunderstanding -"
"Who gave you permission to speak, girl?" His beady eye regarded her with contempt.
Shizune shrunk back. Her hand curled into her chest.
"Danzo, you dog," Tsunade was seconds away from putting her hands on the man. "What did you do?"
"What I said," He grinned in an open taunt. "I handled it. She no longer is associated with this house."
Tsunade took two steps forward. She tilted her head up and glared with all the animosity housed in her bones. "Where is she?" She whispered. A shiver ran down Shizune's spine.
"Rotting in someplace too good for her," he paused, "probably."
Her eyes flashed, hand raised ready to strike him with a backhanded slap.
"Okaasan!" Shizune grabbed her wrist just in time.
Danzo tutted her patronizingly. "Such anger," his voice like the sandy banks of a river. "You should learn restraint. To not act on impulse. But I suppose it cannot be entirely your fault." His shoulders rolled slowly and his chest expanded with air. "There are impurities in your blood. Must be for you, your sister, and your niece to turn out the way you did."
"I'm going to do something that even my father could not," her eyes were slits. The hard set of her jaw could carve mountains.
"Live to see fifty?" Danzo quipped with amusement.
"Watch you become ruin." Tsunade spat. She pulled her hand from Shizune's grip quickly and harshly.
"You are but a paper tiger, Tsuna." He smiled at her. His eye full of malice. "Worse, you are a woman. A woman without a man or a clan. What could you possibly do that will make me quiver in my boots?"
"Pride before the fall, old man." She declared her statement like a vow. Her hand around the handle of the suitcase tightened to the point that it creaked. "Your days are numbered. Start counting them."
"As we all should. No one is long for this world. I appreciate the kind reminder. It will do me good to meditate and reflect on it." He rubbed his chin, drawing Shizune's eye to the large scar that resembled vaguely an 'X'.
Her dark eyes filled to the brim with relief at a stock of white just off into the distance.
"Jiraiya-sama!" She waved her hand over her head not caring for decorum. It was much too late for it anyway.
Amber tore away from ebony at the sound of her call. Tsunade blinked slowly a couple of times, the intensity of her hue fading away but the conviction did not erode.
"Well," Danzo tapped his cane on the floor once. "I'll take my leave. Let your old friends catch up after all these decades. I'm sure there is so much to share and learn." His smirk had her stomach churning in unrest and anger. "It was nice seeing you again, Tsuna." His lip tugged downward when his eye landed on Shizune. "Girl," the word came off his tongue like an insult.
In the time it took for Danzo's cane to no longer be audible to their ears, Jiraiya's wooden sandals came to a halt in front of them.
"Is it really you?" His deep voice called out almost uneasily. Like he was not sure if he was awake or dreaming or drunk.
Tsunade glared at his shoulder, refusing to tilt her head back and look him in the eye. Because he was within arm's length of her person that was the only way to see him.
"Of course, it's me," her painted lips stretched into a snarl. "Who else would it be?"
"You look the same, not even a day different." His hand twitched in a need to reach out and touch her skin to prove to himself he was not hallucinating. The faint scent of her perfume, of gardenia and orange blossom filled his nose. That was the same too.
"Nomadic life suits me," Tsunade said dryly. "Now are you going to gawk at me all day or tell me what the hell is going on here? Where is Sakura?"
Shizune straightened at the question. Her eyes migrated to Jiraiya's face but he only had his attention on Tsunade. He was captivated.
Uncertainty settled on the lines of his face. It was subtle the way he shrank himself to be smaller; shoulders tucking in, neck dipping down, arms hanging loosely on his side. Like he was not worthy of being in her presence.
"I don't know."
"What does that mean?" Tsunade's voice was a dangerous whisper that promised pain and suffering. And a great deal of it. "Exactly." She added harshly.
"Hime," his eyes finally flickered to Shizune's face, "Shizune, come inside. There's a lot to talk about."
They wordlessly followed with their hearts in their throats and her face burned in their minds.
"I trusted you." Tsunade's voice spoke over the stream of smoke-like fog of her untouched tea. Her overactive mind would not let her wary body give into its weakness, its need for sustenance.
"I know," Jiraiya lowered his head even more towards his crossed arms.
"I trusted you," this time her voice sounded broken.
Jiraiya sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white bottle in the distinctive shape she would recognize anywhere. He grabbed the tea and dumped it back into the pot without a thought. He filled the warm ceramic about a fourth of the way with sake.
Tsunade eyed him with great trepidation. Her eyes flickered to the window. It was still bright outside.
"It's been a difficult couple of weeks," Jiraiya rubbed his face tiredly. By the time his hand lowered back onto the table, it was as if he aged a decade. He repeated the process and filled her teacup with sake.
"I'm sorry you've found all this so difficult," she spat venom. "It brings me great comfort that you had alcohol to keep you warm while my niece is Kami-knows where and in Kami-knows what condition."
Jiraiya closed his eyes while the alcohol burned his throat. "We've been looking for her but the situation is delicate."
"Bullshit," she slammed her hand on the table. The cups and plates containing snacks rattled. "I don't care about your internal politics. I'm just here for Sakura. Once I have her, we're gone. Nothing subtle or delicate about it."
"Do you have a place to stay?" He asked, unfazed by her mounting anger. "At your mo-"
"No," Tsunade cut him off gruffly. "We have money. We'll find an inn."
"I heard you closed down your practice," he peered over his cup at her. His dark eyes drank her in. The longer he looked, the more subtle changes he noticed. The fine lines near her lips indicated she spent a lot of time frowning. The fold in between her brows told him she scrunched her brows often. The more than occasional silver hair. Her hands and neck were not as smooth.
"That was years ago," she scoffed as she tapped a painted red finger on the side of her cup. She was frowning. Her eyes had a distant look to them. No doubt she was struggling with what she had come to learn. "I told her not to get involved."
"It couldn't be helped," Jiraiya took a slip. Almost delicately. His eyes never strayed far from her face. "She fell in love with him."
"Your nephew?" Tsuande snorted in disbelief. "Sakura is not foolish enough to indulge in something like that."
"My grand-nephew," Jiraiya shook his head as he corrected her. "Naruto."
Tsunade stilled. Her eyes filled with pain. "How old is he now?"
"Five."
Tsunade sighed heavily. "That I can see." She rubbed her forehead slowly. "Kami, I completely forgot about him. I wouldn't have reached out if I remembered. This wouldn't have happened if I wasn't so careless…." She looked up at him in surprise. It gave way to anger.
Jiraiya slowly retracted his hand from the top of hers. "No use in looking back." His expression softened. "She was happy here. She was smiling like she used to. Open and free. Unbothered by what the world was thinking."
"You remember?" Tsunade's lips parted in a state of mild surprise. "That was almost two decades ago." The fateful day when they all ran into each other on pure accident. Back when her family was still complete. Before the horrid wind changed directions and their fate along with it.
"I thought she was yours," he looked up at the intricate panels of the ceiling. "She had your spirit and smile. Forehead too," he chuckled.
"She was mine," Tsunade said firmly. "She is mine." Her hands rubbed her arms as a phantom ache overcame them. "Kami," she covered her face forlorn. "Did he…?" She could not bring herself to finish the question.
"He was alone with her for hours," Jiriaya's throat and jaw tightened. "But no," he did not miss the flicker of relief on Tsunade's face. "She did not react negatively to the guards or me."
She let out a breath. "Thank Kami." Her eyes hardened. "Where have you looked?"
Jiraiya stiffened. "The brothels." He held up his hands at the murderous look on Tsuande's face. She was seconds away from clearing the table and bashing his head into it - repeatedly. "She only had one gold coin, Tsunade. Nothing to her name. None of the pleasure houses have seen her. It's a good thing."
"What about the medic?" She asked not wanting to dwell on that picture or possibility more than strictly necessary. The thought of her niece in such a place made her insides burn and freeze at the same time. "The one she wrote to me about. The one treating her father." She traced the rim of the cup. Her head was pressed up against the fingers of her folded hand.
"We checked. He claims he did not see her." He answered slowly without color.
"You don't believe him?" Tsunade sat up straight. Her eyes were more alert.
"There's something off about that kid. I could never place my finger on him. He unnerves me." Jiraiya scratched his chin before crossing his arms and sighing deeply. "Sakura, for whatever reason, seemed to get pretty close to him."
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "For her father. That is the reason. I resent what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything. I'm just calling it like I see it. Tomoha tried to warn her. I did too. But I guess we were too subtle or her desperation was too dire."
"You interacted with her? Unsupervised." She all but growled. "I told that girl to stay the hell away from you. And I thought I made myself clear that you were not to speak to her."
"Tsunade," Jiraiya said her name with a slight sharpness. "You don't get to control what she can and cannot do."
"The hell I can't! If she had just listened! I've lived more life than her. If she had just listened to me, she never would have gotten caught up in Danzo's crosshairs and his vendetta against you all." She insisted stubbornly.
"He read the letter," Jiraiya concluded. "Before she even arrived. Our best guess was he intercepted our mail."
"I sent it to the compound," her face drained of color.
"You had to. I don't have a permanent address." He tried to soften the impact of the wave of self-blame coming her way.
"How long was the letter waiting for you?" Tsunade asked hollowly.
"Nearly two weeks," he admitted with a heavy heart.
"I led her into a trap." Tsunade's face fell into the grips of guilt. "It's my fault."
"You did no such thing. That's what I've been trying to tell you. There was no one event that led to this. It was a culmination." His eyes held remorse mixed in with sympathy. It made her stomach burn. "Don't blame yourself."
"How can I not?" She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. "I never should have let her go. I never should have let her come. Everything that happens to her is because of me and the choices I made."
He regarded her shattered demeanor. The hunch of her shoulders was caused by nearly two decades of guilt. She was so defeated. He did not recognize the woman sitting across from him.
"Why are you not the one treating your brother-in-law?" He rubbed salt on an old wound.
Tsunade did not raise her eyes from the table. Her hand was curled around the olive-green ceramic cup. Her eyes locked on the pink petals littered over it.
"I couldn't save my husband. What hope did I have to help anyone else?" She answered bitterly. "I am no healer. He's better off the way he is than with me treating him."
"Why are you here Tsunade?"
"I already told you. To find Sakura." She snapped at his unbelievable question. The audacity was astounding.
"The real reason." His lips pressed into a tight line that would not be eased or crossed.
She licked her lips. The fight left her person the way a soul left a corpse. Silently and without warning. Tsunade raised the sake to her lips. She tilted her head back until every last drop burned its way down her tight throat.
"She wrote to me. About the doctor. He started treating her father without telling her. She wanted my opinion on what to do. I wrote back. Asking for his name. I told her I would look into it. I'm still in contact with some of my old vendors and clients. The Land of Fire can be very small sometimes. She never got back to me. I got worried so I came."
She pressed her hand to her heart. "I've had this heaviness," she tapped her fingers against her skin. "Right here for weeks now. Not painful, just some discomfort. I tried to ignore it. But four days ago I won a small lottery. Nothing life-changing but -"
"You won," he said gravely, understanding the significance immediately.
"I won." She nodded her head. She wiped away a tear before it reached halfway down her face.
"I haven't been there for her when I should have." She paused as if to gather herself before she completely fell apart like a structure made of dry sand. "I'm not making that mistake again."
"We'll find her," Jiraiya said with conviction.
Tsunade made to rise to her feet. She shot him a look demanding he explain the sudden presence of his hand on her shoulder.
"You're tired. You've been traveling for days now. Rest a little. Eat something. By the time you wake up, Minato will be back with Naruto and we can figure out what to do." His voice was gentle but it had undertones of steadfastness. It spoke to the wariness that she carried.
"Won't he get suspicious? With all of us meeting like this?" She eased back into her cushion. She did not fight him, refilling her cup.
"He probably already knows. It's a game. How much to reveal to the other side? He knew not to kill her even if he was within his right to do so. He knows the lines and players and the moves to make. He has had his eyes on this house since the beginning."
"Is any of that supposed to make me feel better?" She slammed her empty cup down on the table. It was a testament to the quality of the cup that it did not shatter in her hand.
"He didn't account for you," Jiraiya grinned.
"You don't know that." She snapped in irritation.
"No one can account for you."
Tsunade let his words sink in. The gears in her mind slowly started to turn.
Shizune let out a small sigh as she rubbed at the discomfort in her neck. She had tried to unsuccessfully rest after bathing and eating. But she could just not get comfortable so instead of growing in her annoyance by continuing to seek what eluded her, she decided to be proactive and take a walk to clear her mind and kill time.
It was strange how quickly the body adapted to constant change. She slept better in hotels and inns than she did in a traditional setting. She supposed it was fitting given how her life was anything but traditional. The warm air was a precursor of the season to come. It was mid-March. Spring was just around the corner. In a couple of weeks, it will be prime time to view the cherry blossoms. She ran a fingertip over a pink bud, delicately. The brown, twisted branches of the tree were filled with hundreds and hundreds of buds just ready to bloom in a breathtaking display.
It made her heart ache. It reminded her of her cousin who for a very short time had been her sister. Given their four-year age gap, Shiuzune remembered the day her aunt and uncle - whom she still called Obasan and Ojisan at the time - brought her home. She remembered the first thought that raced through her head when she laid eyes on the newborn: pink. Pink skin and pink hair. The pink hair was the strangest thing. She had never seen anything like it then or since.
She was too young to understand the significance of it all. She was too busy trying not to feel jealous or let the fear of being replaced consume her. It did not take long for the fear to be put to rest. Her aunt and uncle were even happier. There was even more laughter and joy in the house with Sakura's and her giggles echoing off the walls. Her first steps, her first word, her first tooth all of that happened in their home. Milestones that they shared. Those were the best moments of her life. She had someone who followed her around and looked up to her and just wanted to be doing what she was. She finally was something to someone. She was an Oneechan. And she loved it.
It all went away shortly after Sakura's third birthday. First Tochan - she called him that just like Sakura did - left. He felt ill. It was sudden and so quick. He was here one day and gone the next. Her Okasan was a mess. There were days she did not get out of bed. On those days Shizune had to be more than just an Oneechan, she had to be an Okaasan to Sakura too. But that did not last long. One day Sakura was gone too. She did not understand it then. The permanence of it all. Of her father's death. Sakura's absence was less permanent over the years they saw her sporadically. But it did not hurt any less. Every time she was forced to say goodbye she felt an ache in her chest reminding her of what was taken from her. Seventeen years' worth of memories and shared experiences that never got to be.
It hurt because Sakura seemed to be fine. She had a younger brother to look after. A younger brother that looked at her the same way Sakura looked at Shizune. It was not until after he was gone that she noticed, realized, that Sakura hardly smiled or laughed. She had to be an Okaasan to her own Otosan and Okaasan. She surpassed even Shizune at the age of ten.
She could not help but wonder in what condition her cousin - her sister - was. She was not in the room when Jiraiya gave Tsuyande the details but the haunted look on Tsunade's face and the uncharacteristic quiet on her lips said it all. It was bad. Whatever happened to Sakura was really bad.
Thieves were not treated well in a society that was based on honor, truth, and respect. Because thieves broke all three. They had no honor if they stole. Thieves had an aversion to the truth because the stolen possession was not gained in a truthful way. It did not belong to them. And there was no room for respect. Because after all, if there was respect then there would be no theft. Thieves were considered worse than those who took life. Because that could be justified. And that was the logic they used to do what they pleased with a thief. It was better to slit your own throat than be caught in possession of something that did not belong to you.
A flash of white moving in her peripherals pulled her out of reverie. Much to the relief of her pained heart. At first, she thought it was Jiraiya but there was not enough of the white and it was in the wrong direction. She turned her head and realized that the white was actually silver and it grew up and to the side and now down. Her lips parted slightly as she moved further to the tree to hide her presence.
He was walking with his nose in a book. A navy blue mask, a cloth tied under his ears, obscured half of his face and some of his neck. He moved with leisurely steps seemingly completely unbothered to the sound of a high-pitched scream. He came to a stop over the child who was having a very clear meltdown.
Shizune winced as another cry erupted through the quiet like an arrow shooting through the air. She could almost still feel the lingering disruption the vibrations caused. She moved from the tree before even she was fully aware of her actions. All she registered was a child in clear distress and a man who was so unbothered by it all.
"Everything alright?" Her voice was riddled with concern as she addressed the man.
His dark eyes did not look up from the page of his orange book.
Shizune brought her hands to her hips. "Is everything alright?" She asked in a louder voice even going as far as to wave her hands over her head.
The man blinked before lifting his head. She watched him wordlessly as he reached for his ears. She narrowed her eyes at the two balls of cotton he pulled from them.
"I'm sorry?" He asked with a tone and face that communicated that he was indeed not sorry.
"Is everything okay?" She pointed at the boy who was still screaming underfoot.
"Oh." Kakashi's eyes darted to Naruto. "Everything is fine." He said nonchalantly as he turned back to his book.
She furrowed her dark brow and looked at the red-faced boy flat on his back, kicking his arms and legs in the air with his eyes squeezed shut. He made a counterargument and Shizune found it very convincing.
"What's wrong?" She crouched down to be closer to his level. Her hands were on her bent knees. Her voice was a gentle autumn breeze.
"He's faking it. For attention." The man turned a page. "Ignore him, it's parenting 101."
"Are you his parent?" She tilted her head to look up at him. Another piercing scream had her heart jolting and her face wincing. She covered the ear closest to him. His voice rattled inside her eardrum.
"Kami no," Kakashi scoffed, almost offended at the question. He shoved the cotton round back into one of his ears.
Another scream. Another wince. She turned back to the boy. "What's wrong, Chibi-kun?" Her dark eyes were filled with passion forged from compassion.
Naruto peeled open an eye. "I want my friend." He screamed.
Kakashi sighed heavily. "Naruto, you know that's not possible."
"I'm bored!" Naruto screeched.
Shizune kept her gaze on the boy and bit down a retort that basically called him out for getting involved.
"Naruto-kun," her face softened into a smile. "Maybe you can see your friend later. Why don't you get up off the ground and we go do something to make time go faster?"
Naruto sat up. His eyes were clear despite the tint to his face. "Like what?"
"Why don't you show me around your house, hm? It's my first time and it's so big that I'm worried I'm going to get lost. Think you could help me?" She suggested with child-like enthusiasm.
Naruto scratched his nose. He looked conflicted. His eyes darted from Kakashi's impassive face to Shizune's emphatic one. "Okay." He said with a sigh. He got up to his feet.
"You got him to stop," Kakashi uttered, shocked. His mouth hung slightly open behind his mask. "I didn't think that was possible. I thought he would scream until he got tired. Or my ears bled."
"Children are perceptive, sir. They can read your intentions." Shizune rose to her feet.
"You sound like Sakura," he rubbed the back of his head. His book hung to his side, forgotten.
"Well she is my cousin, so there are bound to be similarities," Shizune said with a small laugh.
"You know, Sakura?!" Naruto's eyes lit up.
"I do," Shizune's smile dimmed slightly as she thought of her cousin-sister.
"Do you know where she is?!" Naruto tugged on the loose fabric of her kimono. "Do you?"
"Not right now," Shizune answered honestly. "But I'm hoping soon I will." She held out her hand. Naruto took it wordlessly. They took a couple of steps before Shizune looked to her left to give Kakashi a puzzled glance.
"I'm watching the kid." He told her blandly.
"Well, I guess you can come too then. Is that alright with you, Naruto-kun?" Shizune asked the blond who was making angry eyes at the Hatake.
"Kaka-Ojiichan can come." He said with a shrug. "He's okay."
Shizune giggled at Kakashi's scowl.
"Were you really reading one of Jiraiya-sama's books in front of a child?" Shizune spared him a look full of judgment.
"You can read?" Kakashi's eyes widened. "You know of Jiraiya-sama's works?" He added in a sputter. "That came out wrong," he corrected quickly at the dubious look on her face. He turned his head so that the sleeping Naruto on his shoulder did not obstruct his view of her.
"Is there a right way to take that?" Her raven brows were incredulous and not at all impressed.
"I suppose not," he rubbed the back of his head. "It's fine. It's not like he knows enough words to read it. And even if he could, he's too young to understand the beauty and nuance of it all."
Shizune snorted. She chose not to think too long about where this side of her was coming from. "It's hardly contemporary literature." She shot back.
Kakashi made a sympathetic sound. "Only those with taste can truly appreciate it."
"Is that what you tell yourself?" She laughed into her hand. "Hardly."
"You speak with familiarity as if you know it intimately." His lips pulled into a small smirk at the flush that appeared on her face.
"You are mistaken," she shook her head. It only served to make her redder. "Wouldn't be the first time today," she eyed him up and down, almost haughty.
His smirk turned into a grin. It thrilled him that she was not easily rattled. "Maybe," he sighed. "If you don't mind," he pulled the book back out of his pocket all without waking the boy who was drooling over his shoulder. "My book was just entering its climax."
"Why would I mind?" Shizune peered at the gardens. The sound of the small fountain was soothing to her slightly burning ears. "Enjoy your porn."
His shoulders shook slightly as he kept in a laugh. "Thank you. I plan on it."
"Unbelievable," she rolled her eyes as she muttered under her breath.
"Miss?" His soft voice muffled through the cloth of his mask and the particles in the air halted her forward movements. She looked over her shoulder.
"Kato Shizune," she answered the question he did not ask but wanted the answer to.
"Hatake Kakashi." Was his response to hers.
A/N: Enter Tsunade. I'm so happy she's here. How do we feel about her arrival? The ground of Namikaze Compound definitely shook when she set foot on it. Lol. Please review! Thank you!