When the Soul Speaks

by lilac haze

Disclaimer: AU. Non-canon. This story contains abuse, child neglect, child abuse, violence, torture, and assault. Gets lemony towards the end. Please see inside for more details. Summary: She just wanted to keep her head down and do her job. He was just lonely and desperate for attention and affection. He was just frozen in place after his loss. Baby Naruto. MinaSaku. Love triangle

35. Chapter 35: Clearing the Path of Thorns

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

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A/N:

Hello Readers,

I present to you a new chapter. It is on the longer side. I apologize in advance for all the feelings, and thoughts, that you might feel/think...my bad. A lot happening. (I sound like a broken record). You'll see. Thank you for your continued support. Please point out any mistakes! Let's get into it.

~ L.H.

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Chapter 35: Clearing the Path of Thorns

Flashback

He was standing behind the counter, pooled over some scroll of some kind. His forehead was resting in an arch made by his fingers and thumbs. A look of deep thought settled on his face. The lights overhead cast an eerie shadow, making it hard to read what was contained in the depths of his eyes. His dark purple kimono was rolled up over his shoulders. His white hair appeared to reflect the light of the lanterns that hung overhead.

The shop was empty. That much he could make out from the street. It probably had to do with the sign that read 'Closed' in the window. Danzo reached for the door. He pulled it open. The man slowly looked up from what had previously captured all his attention.

"Shimura-sama," his artificial smile greeted him pleasantly. "What can I do for you today?"

Danzo carried his frame, weary with his troubles and worries to the counter. He leaned his cane - which was rather troublesome to keep track of - against the structure.

"Is it time for a refill already?" Kabuto cocked his head to the side and regarded the silent man with a critical gaze.

Danzo sighed through his nose. His dark eye was as flat as the air in the room. "I believe we have the same problem."

"Oh?" Kabuto's lips dipped into a frown. "I highly doubt that given our age difference. It's completely normal to experience a drop off at your age when it comes to -"

Danzo narrowed his eyes into a glare. Kabuto stopped midword and abandoned the line of thought. "I have stepped onto a thorn. It has embedded itself into my heel, making it difficult to walk. I realize the plant has gone unchecked for too long."

Kabuto crossed his arms over his chest. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and pressed his lips together.

"We have different ends to the same problem," Danzo tried again. "My thorn is a means to an end for you, is it not?"

Kabuto blinked slowly. It reminded Danzo of a snake's third eyelid. He held his chin in his hand.

"It is of quality pedigree, which is a detriment for me but a strength for you. There is an angle to be played." Danzo said lazily, in a bored, dismissive manner.

Kabuto could read between the lines well enough. Most of this was old news to him.

"What do you propose?" Kabuto measured out his words carefully as if there was a cost per syllable uttered that he would have to pay.

"I have something in the works," he said cryptically. The guard would not be a weak link. The farmer, Hirano, understood the terms he put on the table. The books he had would match the ones in Danzo's records. There will be no paper trail. He had been careful. None of this would fall back.

"I plan on weeding out the thorn by the root. It will be tossed aside and thrown out of the compound. Do with that what you will."

Kabuto's eyes darted from side to side once as he took in the entirety of Danzo's statement. "Do not kill the plant." He said with quiet authority. "Or damage it beyond recognition."

"The plant will be weakened, malleable, but intact," Danzo assured him with a nod of his head. "You might find it to be even more agreeable."

"Well," Kabuto coughed into his hand pointedly once. "If that is the case, please take care of this situation before the wound has a chance to fester much longer."

"I will take that into consideration." He grabbed his cane. "Good day to you, Sensei." He walked to the door with a sense of satisfaction in his strides.

End of Flashback

---

A black round, smooth marble smaller than his thumbnail danced between his fingers as his cobalt eyes stared unblinkingly at the wooden Go board in front of him. The index finger of his right hand tapped against his knee.

Shikaku's dark eyes did not waver far from the blond's stony visage. It was very different from the eye in which he regarded the board. Those eyes in which Minato inspected weapons and battle formations. The cobalt orbs worked quickly and diligently to find weakness. But the ones in front of him now were almost listless in their unfocus. The game and the board were the furthest thing from his mind. Nothing more than a distraction. And his level of play reflected it.

"The affidavits have been signed and sent over?" Shikaku asked him for the sake of conversation.

"Yes." Minato set down his piece.

"Fifteen in total?"

"Nine from the largest and most notable clans from Konoha along with six of the most prominent clans from the other most influential villages of Fire," Minato said with a small nod. His father's laid groundwork was still coming in strong for him. Ties built in the last war carried over into the most recent one.

"Quite a show of strength and solidarity." Shikaku tugged at his goatee before he brought a cup of steaming green tea to his lips. He slurped loudly.

"If you want to dethrone a king without firing a single arrow it is best to be thorough and excessive." Minato raked a hand through his hair. Diplomacy.

"And the Daimyos?"

"Letters of approval from three of them including our own. Iron and Wind." He named the other two.

"The loss of Uzushiogakure is a heavy one," Shikaku said gravely.

"One that is still felt today." Minato closed his fist on the go piece. His fist eased open. "In more ways than one." They would have been a good ally to have.

"Rain shows interest?" His dark eyes narrowed for a moment.

"They do. Not officially." Minato rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hedging their bets." Shikaku snorted. "Politicians." He sighed. "Do you believe it to be enough?"

"It is all we have, Shikaku." Minato held his gaze with solemn eyes.

"Do you expect hellfire to rain down on your home?"

There was only silence for a total of fifteen painstaking seconds.

"No," Minato answered tightly. "Not at this time."

"Do you have expectations of that changing?" He set down a white piece in a square.

"Only time will tell," Minato answered as he gazed at the board.

"Let's hope you do not miss." Shikaku finished the last of his tea. He refilled his pot. He held it over Minato's cup. The blond held out his hand.

"I never have and I don't intend to start now." His eyes held no traces of duality or boast. Just an utterance of fact.

Shikaku leaned back and regarded the board. The air shifted. He cleared his throat.

"I went into town the other day," he calculated how many moves it would take to win if he moved one white piece to the square closest to Minato's pieces. "There was a line around the corner for one of the shops."

Minato's eyes did not flicker in interest as he placed the black piece into the very square that Shikaku was regarding.

"Mostly men. No real pattern to age. Both young and old," the Nara yawned. His jaw clicked. "It was for the medical shop." His eyes raised a fraction from the board to Minato's face. There was no visible reaction. "I was curious, so I slowed my pace." Shikaku placed a flat white marble piece into a square on the grid. "I overheard snippets of conversation. There was this pair all smiles, from ear to ear." Again there was nothing behind Minato's eyes. Shikaku hid a frown by raising his tea to his mouth. A satisfied sound left his lips. "They were laughing. In a good mood. Jovial almost."

Minato placed a black piece on the board quickly without much thought. His fingers tapping his knee kept up their pace and rhythm.

"They were going on and on about a woman that works there." Shikaku mulled over where to place his next piece. "She is rumored to have the most unusual hair color. There is a rumor seemingly confirmed just a couple of days ago by a bypasser that it is in fact pink. He saw from the street. The whole shop is lined with windows."

Minato did not move. He did not visibly react. He had not noticed her bandana anywhere in the area when he had seen her. But that did not mean much because she captured his attention. All of it.

He was trying to limit the possibilities from four to one. "According to the man who saw her from the street, she was beautiful. With green eyes as bright and reflective as broken glass in the sun. Hair as pink as the petals of the Sakura flower against the bark of the tree. Skin like cream." He sighed. "The poetry in which they spoke was sappy. The kind of stuff Yoshino goes crazy for."

The fingers were moving at a faster pace now against his knee. A black go piece moved across his knuckles.

"Apparently, she - whoever this woman is - is quite the draw," Shikaku concluded blandly. "Business must be booming for the Sensei with her around." He scratched his goatee with a thoughtful look on his face. "Akira my cousin, the one with one eye, he's been to see her three times since coming back from the war. I think he thinks he's in love."

A pair of obsidian eyes raised to earnestly observe his companion. His lips were held together in silence but there was plenty of non-verbal communication taking place. One just needed to know where to look. And Shikaku knew Minato well enough to know all the places. The barely clenched jaw to the tension carried in Minato's broad shoulders.

Shikaku sighed deeply through his nose. He reached up towards the top row of the board and brought his hand down, sweeping the pieces into his waiting cupped hand on the other side of the wooden block.

Minato simply raised a blond brow inquisitively.

"Your head is not in it," Shikaku stated the fact simply. "You left yourself too open. You barely thought through your moves. We are both wasting our time." The sound of rain filled the room as the stones clicked and clanged against each other while they settled into the small sack for storage.

Minato did not argue. He rubbed his face tiredly. "How are you adjusting to being back home?"

"The Sensei," Shikaku operated as if he had not heard Minato. "From what I gathered is out of town and has been for a few days. If someone were to do something, now would be the time for it." He pulled out a piece of paper from his white haori. He slid it over the empty Go board with his pointer finger. "The list of names. Sixteen in total. Similar stories to Haruno Kizashi."

Minato tucked it into his own gray haori.

"Why are you not doing anything about it?" Shikaku asked him outright, with little patience. He was not only asking for himself. Yoshino was very much curious and she would twist his arm until it broke if he did not ask.

"I don't want to get into it," Minato answered almost tightly.

"You're the only one," Shikaku narrowed his eyes. "She's drawing attention. A lot of it. There's rumors flying around that she has pink hair for crying out loud." He rubbed the back of his neck in a frustrated manner. He could just make out the loud voice of Naruto somewhere in the Nara estate. "Rumors that originated from your house." He narrowed his eyes. "You had two servants leave, there were rumors of a thief. She shows up at the Sensei's shop. Doesn't take a genius to make a connection. Speculation can only hold up for so long."

"If I do something now," Minato said slowly and levelly. "It will make things worse. Not better." There was a solemn conviction to him. He really did not need to touch an open flame twice to know it was hot. He learned his lesson the first time.

"It is not like you to be so passive," the Nara said with a shrug. "Sometimes things need to get worse before they get better."

"And sometimes, things need to heal before they are picked at again." Minato finished the last of his lukewarm tea.

"So there is a plan then?" His dark eyes glittered with unreadability.

"There is hope," Minato patted his chest - the spot where the list of names was. "Thank you, Shikaku."

Shikaku dipped his head in understanding. They rose to their feet. He watched silently as Minato collected his son and the pair of blonds walked hand in hand towards the compound. It did not take long for his wife to appear in front of him with a question on her face and expectation etched into her frame.

"He's fine," Shikaku concluded definitively. "He knows what he's doing." The gesture had convinced him of as much. Because the spot where Minato had rested his hand also happened to be on the left side of his chest, right over his heart.

---

Her body was pressed up against the floor unable to become one with it but also without the strength to run from the force being exerted on it from up above. It was caught between the two. A blow from the top, skin splitting open red and raw, only to slap against the textured grit and gravel of the ground. Over and over again. The brown of her shift became dark, almost black as more and more punishment was dealt to her. Sometimes she screamed, sometimes it was a moan, other times there was silence. But - always - her face was turned towards him. Obscured by her pink hair. But her eyes. Her eyes were as clear as the day he had first really seen them. Unadulterated, unchanged, and unobscured. The windows to the soul. Hers were bright, clear, and completely pure. Like a lake that could be seen all the way to the bottom. Still and calm. Containing so much pain.

The tears in those green eyes weighed him down. They hurt him to his core. He wished - he longed - to be able to take her pain onto himself. He wished he could feel instead of her. He would give almost anything to be in her place. To be the one whose back the cane was broken across. To be the one on the ground, bleeding and broken. But he could not do that any more than she could walk away. She endured. And he was forced to watch. Unable to say even a word of comfort, much less stop it.

He could not close his eyes, not even when Danzo raised the cane over his head and brought it down with all the force and power contained in his shoulders and arms. The shoulders and arms of what once had been a mighty warrior. Of a man who had at least thirty pounds on the woman. He could not close his eyes because he could do nothing to help. So the least he could do was to watch. Because each blow on her back was one he carried with him on his conscience. On his soul. That was his punishment. Her wounds would heal much faster than his. Because he was the reason behind them.

Sakura stared at him unblinkingly as the cane splintered and snapped. Danzo's rage built. Minato watched with devastation on his features as Danzo grabbed a rusty rake from the wall. He pulled it off with a grunt. Sakura did not move. She locked eyes with him. Emerald collided with sapphire. He swallowed thickly. His lips moved in an apology his throat never had a chance to say. The rake came down against her. Flesh and bone met metal and wood. She screamed.

Minato blinked up at the ceiling. There was just enough light from the open curtains to make the outlines of the rafters. The wood underneath him was cold and unforgiving against his back. His skin was covered in a film of sweat. His heart raced in his ears. It was not the first or even the seventh time he had this very dream. Sometimes he had the dream more than once in the same night. He had lost count of the exact number. It was not important. What was important was that each time he had the dream marked the passing of yet another day. His hand, the one across his stomach, twitched involuntarily. The last of the jitters from the dream worked its way through his system.

Blond brows knit together as his teeth press up against each other. He turned his head to the left, his ear pressed into his pillow. Minato sat up and crossed his legs just as the shoji door opened to reveal a small timid face.

"Tochan?" Naruto whispered loudly from the threshold. He was clad in his white pajamas and his house slippers.

"Naruto," Minato could hear the frown in his own voice. "Did you walk here all by yourself in the dark?" His tone conveyed his displeasure at the fact. The guest house was detached from the main structure. It was not a long distance but it was more distance than Naruto needed to be traveling at this time of night in the cold.

"I was quiet," Naruto answered through his pout. "I had a nightmare and I couldn't find Ambe-san."

Minato sighed. "Come here, son."

Naruto moved slowly. Using his hands stretched out in front of him to map out obstacles. Minato steadied him by the elbow to keep him from tripping over him.

"Can you sleep on the floor in my room like Sakura did?" Naruto peered up at him after he climbed into Minato's lap.

"Do you have nightmares often?" He asked Naruto in lieu of focusing on the way his heart panged in his chest at the sound of her name.

Naruto shook his head. He leaned back against Minato's chest. His blond spiky locks poked his father's shoulder. "No. Only like eight times." Naruto made a face. "Maybe."

Minato bit the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing. "Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked him in a gentle voice.

"Okay," Naruto answered with a shrug.

Minato hauled them both up. He covered the boy in his haori, ensuring that he was better protected from the warmth before tugging a shirt over his head. Naruto pressed his cheek against his shoulder and wrapped his arms loosely around Minato's neck. His eyelids were growing heavier even before they entered the night air.

"Can I sleep with you, Tochan?" Naruto asked tiredly through a yawn.

"Only for tonight, Naruto." Minato leaned his head against his son's.

"What happens if I have a nightmare tomorrow?" The boy asked whilst rubbing his eyes. His half-closed eyelids allowed him to make out just enough of the world around him.

"We'll deal with that when we get there," Minato answered easily. "You might sleep through the night tomorrow. No sense worrying about it today."

"Okay," Naruto yawned again. "Tochan?"

"Yes, Naruto?"

"Is Okaasan coming back?" He asked in a small voice.

Minato pressed a hand to the small of Naruto's back. "No Naruto." He answered with directness. "Where your Okaasan is, she can't come back." He kept his voice together. "We have to live with her memories and the love she had for us in our hearts."

Naruto buried his face into Minato's neck. "Is she dead?"

"She is," his heart was heavy with the admission.

"Is Sakura dead too?"

"No." He answered the question firmly without hesitation.

"Then where is she?" Naruto asked into his skin.

"She's just a little lost, Naruto." Minato tried to explain with oversimplification.

"Will she come back?" The innocence in Naruto's voice as he asked the question made Minato want to shield and protect him from all the horrors of the world. It made him want to lie to him.

"I don't know, Naruto." He did not know if it was right or wrong to say it. "But I hope she does."

"I hope so too," Naruto's eyelashes fluttered. It did not take him long to fall asleep.

Minato continued to walk the quiet grounds of the compound. He came to a stop when the unobstructed view of the silver full moon washed his face. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes. He wondered if she was looking at the moon too or if she was able to sleep soundly at night in a foreign place. The unforgiving encompassing light emphasized the dark skin under his eyelids. The proof of his repeated less-than-restful sleep.

He was dreaming of her again. It did not matter if of late it was more accurate to describe them as nightmares. He could not help but wonder what it meant. He exhaled the air from his lungs slowly. His breath settled in the air heavily like a fog all around him.

---

He was mindful to pick up his feet and settle them down with the least amount of noise physically possible. His back was to her door. She never let him stay long but true to his word, he did not complain. He did not push. Not even when the broken pieces of his heart rattled in his chest with each jolt his footsteps away from her caused. His head hung low as his shoulders slumped. The woe-is-me attitude was always hard to shake. Repetition did not make it any easier. The opposite was true. It seemed to only make it worse.

The night air was cold and unforgiving. It only served to remind him of the warmth of her body in her bed that he was leaving behind. It did not matter if it was less than willing on his part. It was all semantics that got lost in the bigger picture. She kicked him out because of her own inability to see it for what it was. He could be more than just a warm body for her to hold. But she chose to wallow in her pity alone. Just like how she chose to live her life. She would cry herself to sleep. He did not need to be in the room to witness it to know that. He knew her. The guilt she carried in her had hardened and calcified. It had become a fixture around her beating heart.

His feet continued to carry him away from where he left his heart - not tonight but decades ago - all the while his thoughts kept his mind preoccupied. He breathed in the cool air. Sandals scrapped against the wooden floors of the pathway. He could do nothing but shake his head at the image painted not too far from where he stood. Minato, standing with enough tension in his frame to snap his spine in numerous places, with a sleeping Naruto on his shoulder. On his other side, curled around him like a vice was Danzo's niece. Her head pressed up against his other shoulder. He did not linger or read too much into it. He was tired. He had enough of his own disappointment to shift through.

He was asleep the moment his head hit his pillow. His loud snores filled the void in the room even as the one in his chest continued to be left unanswered and unchanged.

---

Her pink locks glistened in the early morning sun. It was finally starting to warm up. Her skin welcomed the rays. Her pink lashes fluttered delicately in front of her face. Her jade eyes were soft as she moved through the small courtyard. A watering can in her hand showered a soft spray of water over the flowers that would bloom in a few days time. The empty air would be filled with butterflies a few days from then. She could almost picture it.

She turned her head at the sound of feet making contact with soft grass. Everything inside of her froze. Even the air in her lungs at the sight of him. The sun was to his back, coloring his hair in a golden glow. His skin seemed to be that of bronze and his eyes as deep and endless as a raging sea. His jawline was set so sharply, that it all but promised to cut her into pieces if she got too close. He was radiant. He was a vision. Words did not do him any justice. Not even the best poets could capture his essence. The way he moved was fluid and confident. Not even a moment of hesitation as he closed the distance between them.

The sound of the metal watering can falling to the ground, cushioned by the lush grass, was drowned out by the beating of her heartbeat in her ears. It was painful. It was uncomfortable. It was torture. The words that raced in her mind jumbled in her throat before being swallowed by silence in her mouth. She could do nothing but stare at him with wide, wide eyes.

"Sakura," his hands were on her arms. It was distracting and tormenting the way they slowly moved up to her shoulders.

"You need to stay away from me." Her words sounded shaky at best and hollow at worst. Even she could not take them seriously.

"I can't," his eyes held a sadness in them she had not seen before. "I can't stop thinking about you."

"You haven't tried very hard." She admonished with a tinge of exasperation. "Just leave me alone. It will get easier with time." What started as an order ended up sounding like a plea. It was what she told herself. Sakura let out a small yelp in surprise when she felt herself being pulled into his embrace, powerless to stop it all.

Her breath hitched as his scent filled her nose. Her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily in response to the stimuli. She stilled in his hold. It did not take long for warm showers of tingling glow to spread from the crown of her head all the way down to her shoulders. It was quickly joined by the fluttering of her stomach. Subconsciously, mindlessly, she leaned into his touch. It was the only shelter and reprieve from the onslaught of emotions his presence brought her.

"It's not fair," she muttered into his chest. Her hands fisted into the back of his shirt. "The things you do to me. How weak you make me. It's not fair." She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, unable to look him in the face.

"I'm not faring much better, Sakura." His lips pressed to the side of her head. "I haven't been able to sleep since I got back. Since I learned what happened." His hands ran up and down her back. "Are you in pain?" There was so much anguish in his simple query. It made her head spin to the point she was on the edge of being nauseous.

She did not trust her voice so she merely shook her head to answer his question. She breathed deeply, in a controlled manner despite nothing seemingly listening to her. "It doesn't hurt that much anymore." Physically. Mentally and emotionally were a whole nother story. One she did not want to get into. Especially not with him and especially not now

"I'm so mad at you." She tightened her grip around his dark gray shirt. The side of her face pressed into his chest. "But mostly myself. I'm so mad at myself." A tear slipped past her closed eyes, trailing all the way down to her chin before it fell to the ground. It landed on a blade of grass. Like a dew drop, it hung on for dear life. "I should hate you. I want to hate you. I wish I hated you."

Minato's whole face folded into the lines of a grimace. "Do you?" He asked in a hurt voice. "Do you hate me?"

"No," she cried against him. "You hurt me." His navy shirt was clenched between her fingers so tightly that she was losing circulation in her hand.

"I'm sorry." His tears mixed in with her hair. "I'm sorry." He repeated over and over.

"Why can't I hate you?" She asked brokenly. It would make everything so much easier. "Why don't I hate you?" Her throat tightened with emotion as she cried. "Why?" Twisted anguish was the pitch and weight of her voice. "Why did you have to do that to me?"

"Sakura." He closed his eyes heavily. He pulled her closer. "Hate me." He said firmly. "Hate me with everything. Until nothing is left over." He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Just don't hate yourself. Don't ever hate yourself."

"I can't." An anguished sound left her throat. "What did I ever do to you?" She breathed in shakily. "How am I supposed to get through another day when you won't let me breathe? Not when I'm awake and not when I'm asleep. What am I supposed to do?" Tears hung to her lower lashes. She sniffled into his chest. "Tell me how to survive this. Tell me."

"Shh," he cradled the back of her head. His hand moved over her silky, pink locks. "Just focus on right now. This. Us. Don't worry about what happened. And don't worry about what is to come." His voice was so raw but still had a gentle, soothing quality to it. She felt herself melt against him. She was boneless. "Only this breath and this moment is guaranteed. Everything else is just either the past or in the future." He inhaled deeply. "Breathe with me."

Her head was spinning too much to argue. She did not want to even if it was not. She was tired and it felt so damn good and safe that she did care for anything else.

"Okay," she nodded her head against him, allowing herself to get completely lost in his warmth, smell, and embrace. She inhaled, expanding her lungs to capacity. She exhaled when he did. She moved with the fall of his chest. She closed her eyes.

She woke with a rapidly beating heart in a room all alone. The high the dream had left her only maximized the pain when she came crashing back down at her reality. The golden tingling in her head was long gone. Not even a glimmer lingerd. She rubbed her forehead slowly. She drew circles that were meant to be soothing but somehow only left her more agitated. She could not forget the way it felt to be held by him. By the real him - not dream him. She did not want to forget. She tried to desperately hold onto it even as it slipped away like sand through her fingertips.

Safe.

---

The grandeur of just the outer facade was enough to instill a sense of intimidation. From looks alone, six of the Namikaze Compounds could fit inside the twenty-foot-tall brick walls that were nearly impossible to climb without some form of specialized tool or aid. The archers that shot in the fortified towers were more than enough to discourage most from trying. No one could truly account for the insane. Or the very desperate. In some instances the difference between the two was negligible.

The crest of his family glittered on his chest like a beacon on his otherwise humble garbs. He was without his armor and that made him feel even more out of place. Maybe he should have worn his ceremonial armor but he had shot the idea down as quickly as it came. The only armor he needed in the presence where he was going was his battle edition. And it could only be seen in two lights: treason or defense. And since he was here for neither, he had opted out of any form of armor entirely.

Not to say he was underdressed. Far from. He was wearing his best outfit. It was one he wore only once before. At his wedding. He was not one to amass many things. And he hated being wasteful on top of it. It was strange to be in it again. He felt nervous in it for the first time. He supposed the dark garbs were more than appropriate. If all went well, a new relationship would come out of it all. If it did not, he would be ready for his burial. If they left enough of him to be identified.

Six guards all solemn-faced and pointedly avoiding all forms of eye contact surrounded him. Three on each side they marched in unison and in equal spacing from each other. Their gray armor was dull and washed out amongst the reds and golds of the palace. He had made the right call. Nothing was to upstage the emperor. The hilt of his katana - something he rarely left at home if he was traveling more than to the ramen shop and back - pressed against his hip in a reassuring gesture. It was small but it reminded him he was not entirely alone.

Kakashi and even Jiraiya had offered to accompany him. But they were better suited watching over Naruto and the compound. He could handle himself. If this were a battle, where he was to storm the many gates - he would have felt less uneasy and more at home. But this was an entirely different beast that required a vastly different skill set. A skillset he had not been sharpening with the promise of death if he even flattered the slightest bit for the better part of five years. He was but a general. He placed soldiers on the map and he led them into jaws of death only to pull them back at the last moment. He did not plan and scheme. He was a warrior. He was not one who decided when and where war should start and end.

But he supposed that was not true - at least not yet. It was only a matter of time. And each step his feet took only brought him closer to the prospect of his new reality. His cobalt eyes had become hardened steel. A controlled calm was what he drew back to when he came face to face with grand doors carved out of the most expensive wood on the face of the plant. Blackwood. Intricate designs of a large fox were depicted on the left panel. The right side of the door contained fire. The same fire that the great Kyuubi had bestowed upon them for their namesake.

There was a thud and a rattle. Then silence before both massive doors opened with painstaking slowness. The vibrations from the screech of the wood sliding against the marble floors were felt in every single one of his cells. Minato breathed in deeply through his nose and stepped into the white room accented with rich red and gold.

---

His head was angled down. Not quite a bow but also not in its natural position. The Emperor - a man much smaller in stature than he was expecting and much older - sat in the center of the room on this throne. Much higher than Minato. He would have to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes if that were even allowed.

His cobalt eyes focused on the table in front of him. It was being filled with plates and a tapestry of food. The tea was the last thing to join it. His hands remained on his thighs as the delicate, smooth, feminine hands moved gracefully to pour him a cup. He did not want even the insinuation of unbecoming behavior. Something as innocent as accidental contact could be interpreted in many ways. A lot of them were negative.

The red, plush cushion that he sat back on was uncomfortable given its sheer thickness. He was a good three inches off the ground. His core worked to keep him balanced and from not moving too much. He waited until his ears picked up on the emperor sighing in great contentment after taking a noisy sip of his tea before bringing his own cup - white with red and gold patterns etched into ivory - to his lips. His sip was much smaller and much, much quieter. There was a distinctive lack of click when he set the cup back down on the table on its plate.

"Namikaze," a gravelly voice made husky by years of inhaling on a pipe, echoed faintly off the wall of the mostly empty room. "It is strange how I never heard the name before in my life nor have my ancestors in all the years they have been alive, until the third and fourth wars. Now it is all I hear."

His shoulders were set in a straight line even as his head dipped down lower, his chin almost touched his chest. "You are too kind, Tenno."

"And you are too modest," Hiruzen rubbed the end of his brown goatee with a thoughtful expression on his face. "A trait you must have picked up from your mother."

Minato's fists clenched slightly but other than that he did not visibly react. His action had been hidden behind the table.

"Your father," Hiruzen's lips tugged into a small smirk. "Was quite the advocate for himself." He brought his white pipe, covered in flecks of gold in an intricate pattern, to his mouth. It was made from the femur of a monkey - his opium pipe. "And quite the capable debater. He could have made a name for himself in my court. He was sharp enough to."

Cunning was the word Minato would have used and it appeared his assessment was correct yet again. The Emperor, Sautobi Hiruzen, was too kind to use the very word he was thinking.

"But I suppose that is the mark or trait of an outstanding man. He can excel in more than one pathway of life. He chose his path. And it seems it is the same one you chose." Sarutobi brought his fingertips together and leaned back in his regal seat. He regarded the samurai bowing in front of him. The yellow hair, the build, the height, and the eyes all reminded him of Naoto, a man he met a handful of times. But the similarities seemed to end there.

"Your father fought and clawed for the accolades he received. He was proud of his accomplishments. I benefited greatly from his accomplishments." Hiruzen paused to take in a long drag of his pipe. "Look at me, General."

A pair of weary cobalt eyes slowly raised to his face. There were traces of disconcertness in the depths of his blue oceans. Subtle but there.

"Your father, not without faults, was an honorable man. He valued order and tradition. The way things were done. He played within the system." He exhaled the air in his lungs. A dark, gray cloud covered his face.

"So imagine my surprise when his son, his own blood, broke the very thing his father held dear and wrote to me. Highlighting what he claimed to be the truths of the war."

Minato's impassive mask remained firmly on his face. Not a single muscle on his exterior so much as moved without his blessing. He held the emperor's searching, implorative, gaze. The man was fishing and Minato was determined to not fall for the bait. Not even a nibble.

"At first I almost dismissed it. However, the name you carry - Namikaze - won me at least one war. So I kept an open mind just as I kept reading. It kept me up, your letter. More so than the war had done prior. I lived through three wars. Ruled for two. You know this. You strike me as the type to know things."

The corners of Hiruzen's mouth tugged upwards for the briefest of moments. From where he sat it was hard for Minato to definitively say if it was a smile or grimace.

"You surprised me, General. Again. The land that your father conquered. The land that gave you everything that made you who you are, the land so many shed their blood for was the very land you suggested be offered back to Earth to end the war. For good."

The remnants of his words echoed off the walls before amplifying in Minato's ears. His back was completely straight, as his palms began to itch.

"We were on the offensive, ready to march into the Land of Earth as per orders of our Shogun only for you to offer up land to the defeated."

Silence. A single drop of water being dropped on the floor would have sounded as loud as a raging waterfall in the still. He closed his eyes at the bark-like laughter that erupted from the Emperor's throat. Raspy while somehow sounding wet.

Hiruzen sobered. It did not take long. Minato's expression - like stone - did not change in the slightest.

"You offered land as a consolation prize to the losing side," he rubbed the side of his index finger under his nose and over his lip. "Unprecedented. Bold. Unheard of. All things I have come to associate with your family name."

"Do you have anything to add, my boy?" Hiruzen peered down his nose at the samurai.

"No, Tenno," Minato shook his head, once decisively.

"Hm," Saruboti rubbed his forehead. The act brought Minato's attention to the live spots on the back of the man's hand. "I suppose not. Your actions speak for themselves. And your letter said all the rest."

Hiruzen sighed as the lines of his face turned reflective. "I thought on it. For three days. On the third and final day, the idea seemed less preposterous and more like an opportunity. Your words, while carefully chosen and crafted, need more refinement if you want a place in my court. But that comes with time and experience. Things that you are still short on." He frowned.

Minato's stoic visage did not provide any insight into the churning of his stomach or just how unsettled he felt. What the emperor was offering was prestigious but it was not enough.

"I wrote to the Emperor of Earth. Horrid man. Terrible temper. He is as angry as he is small." Hiruzen mused more to himself than anything. "I offered peace in exchange for royalties for Iwa's aggression in claiming our bases. He accepted. Do you know why?"

His dark eyes peered into the depths of Minato's soul, it felt like. "No." The blond answered truthfully.

"He did not want to lose any more men to Konoha's Yellow Flash." His lips pulled into a smirk. "It appears nearly all their generals were quaking in their boots just at the mention of your name. Only one was crazy enough to want to fight you but he was outvoted and overruled."

Minato took no joy in the clear satisfaction in the Emperor's voice. He inspired fear in his enemies. That was not what he wanted to be known for. That was not the legacy he wanted to leave behind. Fear had no place in his life. Not anymore.

"I was quite pleased with this," Hiruzen continued with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "The war ended. The Land of Fire was rewarded quite a generous royalty by Earth and Waterfall. There might even be a promise of trade in the years to come. No one is anxious to face the Yellow Flash."

Minato did not move. Something in the air - the unsettled nature of it - told him that Sarutobi was not done.

"And it appears that one must not be born on the other side of the border to be wary of the Yellow Flash." Hiruzen rubbed the bottom of his goatee between his index finger and thumb. "You sent affidavits, signed and authenticated support for you to be the next Shogun. You came for your potential predecessor all while claiming to be in the pursuit of peace."

It felt as if a blade had come down against the back of his neck. A razor's edge is what separated him from bowing in his own violation and being made target practice for the guards in the room. He felt a lone bead of sweat form at his temple.

"And you seem to have gathered a sizable following," Hiruzen exhaled slowly. He watched the smoke ring thoughtfully. His sandy lips pushed to the side. "Divisive. That is the word that comes to mind when I think of you. Not a word that I want to come to the top of mind when I think of the Shogun. While you have many allies, you have no storage of enemies. The current Shogun might be the only other person in all of Fire that is more divisive than you, General."

"Your actions raise many questions." The Emperor of the Land of Fire paused. "What is to stop a usurper from doing what you did? If I reward you now, for grave insubordination. It would be setting a horrible precedent." Sarutobi mused out loud heavily. "What is stopping you from doing the same to me? These are things I have to consider. And as should you. Peace and stability are very fragile things as it turns out. Even if the means in which they are gained or established is anything but fragile."

Minato swallowed thickly. The bead of sweat moved down his face. It hung to his chin. His heart was thundering in his chest. The air was too thin to breathe.

"Some things are simply too big to ignore."

Minato waited. He exhaled slowly. He wondered if this was how it ended for him. If the Emperor chose the current Shogun it was it for him. And that was the real reason both Jiraiya and Kakashi needed to stay at the compound. They would fight until their dying breath to keep Naruto alive. The most important thing above all else. His fingers curled. He was simply not going to be faster than an arrow. Maybe faster than one or two but not hundreds. The green good luck charm in his pocket could only do so much. It could not work miracles.

"You won us the war." Sarutobi smiled. "Well done, my boy. You did your country proud."

He exhaled.

Minato brought a curled fist across his body and rested it on the left side of his chest. Minato bowed lowly. His forehead almost touched the surface of the table. His blond locks pooled on the wood. Relief poured out of every cell.

"You have the skills for playing the game of politics much like your father. But unlike your father, I will offer you a choice. You will choose your own path. Become a member of my court where I have no doubts you will rise quickly to become my right hand. You will be groomed to advise my eldest son when the time comes for me to retire."

Hiruzen paused. "Or become Shogun."

Minato's heart slammed against his ribcage. The pressure had not let up. But now it was beating for a very different reason.

"It is a big choice. The biggest you'll make in your lifetime. So do not rush it. Think it through and let me know once you have made up your mind." He smirked. "You know how to reach me. That much is clear."

"Tenno," Minato's voice was level and collected. He waited for Hiruzen to gesture with his hand before continuing. "I am humbled by your magnanimous offers. To be given an option is beyond even the dreams of someone like me. With all due respect, I cannot accept the first." He brought the knuckles of his right hand to the palm of his left and bowed.

"So your mind is made up huh?" Hiruzen smiled at him with a knowing glint in his eye. "Shame. You would have made an excellent advisor to my son. You would have not led him astray." He waved his hand almost dismissively as if dispelling the notion from his mind. "I can't say that I am surprised. How does the saying go?" He tapped his chin. "Once your katana has tasted blood it remains restless until the next time."

Minato's eyes subconsciously migrated over to his blade that rested on the floor next to the cushion. He was not going to correct this Emperor's misunderstanding.

"Tenno," he raised his hardened eyes to a pair of critical dark orbs. "If I may."

"What is it?" Hiruzen asked with a raised brown brow.

Minato reached into his pocket slowly. He felt the eyes of every guard in the room. A total of twenty-five on each side. With five at his back and ten to his front. He pulled out a piece of white paper folded three times vertically. Sarutobi gestured to one of the women who was standing at the base of the steps that led to his throne with his eyes. She bowed before appearing in front of Minato. a tray made of gold was presented to him. He lowered the paper into the middle. She bowed to him once before bringing the paper to the emperor.

Minato watched wordlessly as Sarutobi regarded the contents with a bored expression.

"What is this?" He finally asked when he read the last name. None of which meant a thing to him.

"My conditions for accepting the second offer," Minato said unflinchingly.

Sarutobi threw his head back and laughed. "You are not all that different from your father after all." His shoulders jostled slightly as he slowly calmed down. "Very well. For your contribution to the end of the war, you are granted a part of the royalties. I will have the money set aside for you. And it is yours to do with what you wish."

"Thank you, Tenno." He bowed his head.

"In six months time, you will be Shogun." Hiruzen declared the words that Minato's father had only dreamed about. "A vote will take place. It is for show. The lords and those in power have lost faith in the current Shogun. There will be a period of transition. You will need to come to the capital on occasion to ensure that the handoff is peaceful. And peaceful it must remain. If the Land has any hope of maintaining it."

Minato nodded his head. His ears burned as he heard the words his father only dreamed of.

"It will be your responsibility to rule all of Fire. Not just those who showed you support. I suggest you learn to be less divisive, quickly." Sarutobi's critical eyes never left his face. A test within a test. Minato held his gaze unflinchingly.

"Of course, Tenno." Minato held his gaze unflinchingly. "Your words are my orders."

"Good," Sarutobi smirked. "Because I have a condition of my own."

Minato's stomach dropped even as his face remained blank.

"While our customs and procedures are something you have made clear you do not care all that much for," his expression became almost akin to admonishing, "in order for you to be successful you need to be mindful of them and uphold them to the best of your ability."

Minato read between the lines, choose your battles carefully is what the wise man with more life experience was telling him. He nodded his head to indicate what the man was saying.

"You must be married before you are officially granted the title."

Hiruzen's words were like a bucket of ice, cold water being dumped on him. He nearly gasped out loud in surprise alone. He probably would have if he was anyone else. He was not unaware he knew of the rules but for the Emperor to stress it, he did not expect that. Not even remotely.

"I understand," Minato stated after regaining control of himself.

"Will it be a problem?" Hiruzen asked with a raised brow. A look flinted across his eyes. Minato felt himself grow nervous. He had seen that expression one too many times in Jiraiya's own eyes to not recognize it instantly. "I can provide recommendations if it is."

"No," he shook his head. "Thank you, Tenno." He added quickly when he realized how dangerously close to rude his rather direct answer was. "It's not a problem. It won't be a problem." He said with more conviction than he felt.

"Good," Hiruzen said with a nod of his head. "I have many nieces if it becomes a problem down the line. And while the men of Earth and Waterfall might be trembling in their boots at the mention of your name. The women of Fire tremble for a very different reason at the very same."

It was then and there that Minato thought his soul would leave his body the same way the color drained from his face. The Emperor must have found it all to be amusing because he threw back and laughed heartily at the Namikaze's clear mortification. Finally, the cold-as-ice general with a self-control stronger than any blade forged from metal, was left shaken.

---

He had all but taken three steps into the main house when an all too familiar sensation of being watched registered with the fine hairs on the back of his neck and his forearms. The sound of dragging feet and a tap of a cane were not far off. His blood raised enough in temperature to be simmering just at being in his general vicinity.

'Being clinging and getting on my nerves seems to be hereditary.' Minato thought dryly to himself.

He did not turn around even when Danzo cleared his throat.

"How did the meeting with the Emperor go, Namikaze-sama?" Danzo asked him patiently. Despite his impatience not allowing Minato to take a breath after his journey of a day.

"It went well." He did not have to feign the smile that tugged at his lips. He glanced over his shoulder. "I will be the next Shogun."

Danzo clapped him on the shoulder. Oblivious to the strain on Minato caused by not being able to rip Danzo's hand away and break every single one of his fingers, slowly.

"Well done, son." Danzo's mouth donned an expression that did not suit him in the slightest. A small part of Minato was surprised that Danzo even remembered how to smile. "I will arrange a celebratory dinner for us and my niece. Do not show haste in sharing the good news with her. What an auspicious day. Rest. We have many things to discuss and plan in the coming days."

"Of course, Shimura-sama." Minato smiled at him convincingly. "None of this would have been possible without you."

Danzo's chest seemed to swell at Minato's admission. "I am but a humble servant of this house. I am unworthy of the praise. This is all due to the sacrifices and vision of your Otosama." The man looked close to jumping up for joy. "I must go. So much to do." He shook his head. "Well done. Well done. Shogun!"

Danzo's chuckles of delight granted on every single one of his nerves. His shoulder burned. Minato pointed his feet to the bath. The need to rub his skin raw where Danzo had congratulated him was too great to ignore.

---

Sakura wiped her brow with the back of her hand, pushing up her bandana as she did so. She regarded the broken shells and streaks of egg on the window. There were enough of them that she could not see her reflection in the glass. Her head was on a swivel as she watched the face pass her by with wary features. She put the brush in the bucket that was by her feet.

"You shouldn't strain yourself." Anko's judgemental voice matched her facial expression perfectly.

"This is because of me," Sakura clicked her tongue. She pushed up onto her feet slowly. "It's only right that I clean it up."

"You are so full of yourself," Anko said with a snort. "This could be because of me." She gestured to the window.

Sakura's eyes glittered with concern. "Do you have problems with that? Do people bother you? Do they say things?"

"Who cares what people do or say?" Anko shot back rather flippantly. "What have people ever done for me? Why should I give a rat's ass about them?"

Sakura blinked no less than three times in rapid succession. "That…," she paused, "is a good way of looking at things." She reached for the brush, gripping it in her hand.

'Wish I thought of it.'

She smiled at the teen. "You're tough, Anko-chan." It was something she admired about her.

"As girls should be." Anko tossed her hair over her shoulder. She scrunched her nose at Sakura. "It's not your fault that people are narrow-minded mouth-breathing idiots." Anko glared at her. Her eyes darted behind Sakura. She narrowed them dangerously. She hissed at a middle-aged man who was staring at Sakura for a little too long for her liking. "What are you looking at?" She asked the gawker. The man scurried away.

"Was that necessary?" Sakura asked with a raised brow and an exasperated sigh.

"None of this is necessary. Go back inside. I'll clean the window." She ground out in annoyance. "It's probably just a bunch of kids trying to be funny." Anko grumbled as she tried to snatch the brush from Sakura's hands. The pinkette moved her arm back.

"No one is born with hate, Anko-chan. Children are a symptom of the problem. They aren't the problem." Sakura started to scrub at the window. The yellow yolk was slick against the glass. The smell nearly had her gagging. It would be a while before she could stomach the thought of eating eggs again. "There's another brush inside," Sakura told her without looking at her.

"You're annoying. Anyone tell you that?" Anko asked in a huff. She crossed her arms.

"You'd be the first," Sakura smiled softly. "Let's hurry up and get this window clean. I'm thinking of making teriyaki."

"Do you ever think of anything other than food?" Anko's question lacked heat.

Sakura giggled. "Maybe we'll even have some anko dumplings." She wiggled her brows. "I found a recipe for them in one of the Sensei's books. Doesn't look all that hard."

"You better not give me food poisoning." Anko deadpanned.

"I'll do my best to avoid that for you." Sakura shook her head with a smile.

Anko sighed. "I'll be back." She promised as grabbed the door handle. She looked over her shoulder at the pinkette who was working so diligently to clean the egg from the window. Her lips pulled into a frown.

---

Another round of boisterous laughter broke out. Jiraiya slapped the back of an off-duty guard non-to-gently causing the man with a top knot to spill his drink on himself. It made no difference to either of them.

"You're brilliant, Jiraiya-sama," the man breathed through his breathlessness.

"I know," Jiraiya's grin was all teeth. He brought sake to his lips. "Intelligence is the true mark of the Namikaze. Not the yellow hair." He sighed lamentingly. "It still remains to be seen for the Gaki though."

"Ojichan," Kakashi pointed at him with a shaking finger. His mask was pooled around his neck and his cheeks were as pink as the next guy's. The small private room of the establishment was filled to the brim with guards who had come off the clock for the night. "Is a visionary," Kakashi said with as much conviction as a man with slurred speech could.

"I've seen the light!" A second guard with hair cut tight to his scalp said. He clicked his glass with his neighbor before knocking it back.

"It's so generous of you to be doing this, Jiraiya-sama," a third guard with more wits about him than the other two smiled in thanks at the white-haired man.

"It's not me you should be thanking," Jiraiya said in a voice much too serious for the occasion. Serval faces sombred. "Minato wanted to show his appreciation for all the tireless work you have done to keep the compound safe while he was away. To you all." He held up his glass.

His raised arm was greeted with cheers, the sounds of cups coming into contact followed by exclaims of satisfaction. It was the last of the guards. It took nearly a week of daily drinking to cycle through all of them.

"Will the Master be joining us later?" A new voice asked in a drunken drawl.

"No," Jiraiya shook his head. "This is not really his scene."

"Minato is above the lures of booze and women." Kakashi lifted his head from the table long enough to quip.

"Come off it, Kakashi," Jiraiya scowled at him. "He is human."

"Do you think he will marry the old man's niece? She is very…persistent." A next to faceless voice in the group called out. Low murmurs of agreement broke out.

"Who knows," Jiraiya said with a dismissive shrug. "He could honestly do worse. She is very pretty."

"Nothing like that uncle of hers." Snide laughter rang in the air.

"He may not look like much but Shimura was quite the heartbreaker in his prime. Before his accident." Jiraiya crossed his arms and leaned back in his cushion.

"I'll believe it when I see it," a man snorted.

"I don't know. I went to the medical shop a few days ago…" a man with a nasally sounding voice and blurry features whistled long and low. "I would snag that. No questions asked."

"I hear she's quite the looker. If you can get past the pink hair. Maybe she'll keep that bandana on like she does."

Jiraiya's eyes narrowed a fraction as his lips pulled into a frown. Kakashi's head was resting in this palm.

"The pink only adds to the appeal for me. It's unique. It brings out the color of her eyes."

"Too bad she's a thief."

"Shouldn't be a deterrent for you, you're piss poor thanks to your gambling addiction."

A chorus of agreement broke out followed by laughter. Two pairs of dark eyes meet briefly.

"Right! There would be nothing for her to steal." A very drunk voice jeered much too late. "Because she is a thief."

"Sit down, drunkard." A guard with short brown hair pulled the swaying man down by the elbow. He landed on the table with a thump. No one seemed to pay him any mind as he started to snore loudly. He drooled, open-mouthed on the table.

"Doesn't seem to be a deal breaker for the Sensei. She landed on her feet quickly."

"Makes you think of just what kind of magic the woman has. She had the Master and the Sensei - both sensible people in their own regard - eating out of her hands."

"Maybe it wasn't her hands that they were eating out of." More laughter erupted at the crude innuendo.

"Did you hear that she's a Senju?"

"What?!"

"No way!"

"Her mom was a thief too. It makes sense that the daughter turned out the way she did."

"Damn. A Senju-Senju?"

"How the mighty have fallen."

There was more subtle movement of dark eyes; a silent conversation taking place with a promise of comparing notes much later.

---

"Okaasan," Shizune said with great sadness and pity as she pried an empty bottle of sake from her mother's limp grip.

"Remember," Tsuande began thickly. Her tongue did not quite cooperate with her. Her cheeks were as pink as her painted lip. Her hair was a mess as it stuck out of her twin braids. Like straw poking out of a burlap sack. "When Sakura used to call me Kaachan?"

"I do," Shizune said with a grunt as she slipped her arms under Tsunade's armpits and hauled her to her chest.

Tsunade's head lolled. Her arms hung limply in the air. Shizune dragged her back to bed from where she had fallen.

"She was so precious," Tsuande said somewhere between a sob and a sigh. "In her little pigtails. She had the chubbiest cheeks."

"She did," Shizune could not help but smile. "And the pudgiest arms. Otosan was worried she wouldn't grow very tall. Because she was too busy growing wide."

Tsunade and Shizune shared a laugh. "She loved dressing up in her tiny kimono. Always had to be in red."

"She looked adorable in them." Shizune tucked in Tsunade with a sad smile. She reeked of alcohol. It took her back seventeen years ago when Tsunade could not stay sober for more than an hour at a time. The raven-haired woman sat at the edge of the bed and regarded her mother.

"We were happy," tears slipped past Tsunade's eyes. Shizune diligently wiped them away. She curled her red-tipped fingers around the skin of Shizune's wrist. "We were happy right?" Her hazy, unfocused amber eyes searched Shizune's face with tragic desperation.

"So happy," Shizune said with conviction that left no room for doubt. "We were a happy family. We love her. And she loves us."

"I was good to her? To you?"

It broke something in Shizune to see Tsunade so unsure and insecure. "You were great to her. You are great to me. You are the best mother either of us could ask for." With tender fingers, she brushed the faded blond strands from Tsuande's large forehead. The forehead all the Senju women seemed to share. The forehead of Hashirama. But only Mebuki inherited his widow's peak.

"Then why does she not want to see me?" Tsunade asked heartbrokenly in a voice barely above a whisper.

Shizune sighed. "She's stubborn and scared." Her lips pressed into a bloodless line. It was not that simple. Nothing about Sakura's existence was. She smiled. "Go to sleep, Okaasan."

Tsunade made an unintelligible sound. Shizune waited for the woman to start snoring softly before she picked herself up and left the room, the empty sake bottle dangled between her fingertips.

---

Sakura looked at the coins in her hand. She could not help but smile. The egging from a couple of days ago was the furthest thing from her mind. Her home remedies were in demand. She had sold out of her anti-acid medication, her fertility kits, along with the heavy-duty moisturizer she had developed out of necessity to keep the skin from falling off her hands from all the dishwashing she did at the compound.

She picked off five of the bronze pieces and set them aside. They would be her payment to Anko for all the work the girl did to retrieve the plants she wanted out of the clearing. She did the mental math. She counted out seven more bronze pieces. She put them back in the till. That was how much she owed the Sensei for the ingredients she used from the shop. Sakura looked at the three bronze pieces, two silver, and one gold coin. She tucked the gold coin and one of the silver coins into her purple sack. She had enough to send home. The rest she put back in the till. It was her contribution towards what she owed. She updated the Sensei's ledger. If things kept up at the rate they did, she might have enough in a little over a year to pay him back for her father's treatment and for her own. Then she could start thinking about finding temporary housing in one of the many rental rooms in various buildings in Konoha. A year would give her plenty of time to do research.

She smiled at the familiar face that appeared at the door. "Anko-chan!" She picked up the bronze pieces from the counter. "Did you find everything?"

Anko nodded. She held up the bag containing groceries at head level.

"Great." Sakura beamed. "Let's go make some sweet bean soup!"

Anko nodded her head. She turned around and locked the door before she turned the 'Closed' side of the sign towards the street. She pulled down the curtain. She joined Sakura who was waiting for her. The pinkette put her arm around the teen's shoulders as they walked towards the kitchen. Sakura took the bag from the girl and handed her the coins which Anko deposited into her pocket.

"I got dango too," Anko said airily to which Sakura cheered.

"We should probably eat something green." Sakura said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I got carrots." The teen said flatly.

"Close enough," Sakura grinned. "I'll add lettuce and tomato to the list tomorrow. We'll eat salad tomorrow." She made a face. "A problem for future us. Because today, today we have sugar for dinner! And sugar for dessert!"

The teen hid a smile as they busied themselves with making dinner.

---

"It's nothing," Anko looked away in clear embarrassment.

"Are you kidding?" Sakura looked at the tiny folded crane on the table. "It's so little!" She squealed. She reached for it with gentle fingers.

"You know it's not real right?" Anko asked with a snort.

"Shh!" Sakura placed it in her palm with great concentration. "This," she said in a voice laced with marvel, "is amazing."

"It's just paper. I got good with years of practice. I'm bored out of my mind half the time in the place." Anko finished off the last of her sweet soup.

"Hm," Sakura set the crane down. "How do you know the Sensei?" She said in a light tone despite the conversation being anything but.

Anko shrugged dismissively. "He's always just been there as far back as I can remember." She tugged at her sleeves, an action that was not missed by Sakura. "I don't remember life before him."

"That day," Sakura began slowly. She kept her eyes focused on the empty bowls in front of her. "With the jar, do you get overwhelmed like that often?" She raised her eyes to Anko's face.

"Sometimes," Anko said in a small voice.

"Was it because of the sound? Or something else?" Sakura pointed to herself. "I get overwhelmed with loud sounds too if that was what it was."

The teen shook her head curtly. "I don't want to talk about it." Anko looked away.

"Okay," Sakura rested her chin in her palm. "If you ever change your mind -"

"I won't," Anko said firmly. "So drop it already."

"Okay, it's dropped." Sakura held up her hands. "How was the soup?"

"Good, it might actually be my new favorite thing you've made so far." Anko leaned back on her heels.

"Really?" Sakura's face lit up. "I'll remember that."

Anko rolled her eyes. She felt heat rise from her stomach. Her eyes darted around the room as she searched for something that would take the attention off of her. "Who was blondie?"

Sakura furrowed her brows. "My old employer." She answered flatly.

Anko let out a low whistle. "That can't be it. I would have to skin myself if the Sensei ever hugged me like that."

Sakura pressed her fingertips to her temples. "That's all it was." Sakura pushed the vivid memories away. Both of reality and her recurring dreams.

"He asked you to go back. Why didn't you?" Anko asked with curiosity in her eyes. "It's not that great here."

"I don't want to talk about it." Sakura said glumly.

"Fine," Anko lowered her head into her arms. She watched the woman start to retreat inward. She was trying too hard to appear cheerful. Ever since blondie had shown up. "Next time I see him, I'll bite him."

"What?" Sakura snapped out of her thoughts rather abruptly.

"Blondie," Anko snapped her teeth to demonstrate just what she would do if she saw him anywhere near Sakura again. "He's dead meat." She vowed.

"Anko-chan," Sakura burst into giggles. She could picture Anko doing just as she promised. The look on Minato's face was priceless. She circled her stomach with her arms as her giggles deepened into full-blown laughter. "You're so feral!" She said with so much giddy exuberance that there was no way Anko could even be offended.

Anko felt her cheeks heat up. The sound of Sakura's genuine laughter was infectious. She felt herself join in. The kitchen of the sterile and cold storefront felt warm for the first time to her.

---

Life was not what he had thought it would be. He was quickly learning - or was it being reminded - how important it was to stay humble. His father had drilled it into him and his humility based on his father's principle was what cushioned his fall. He did not linger in the seedy alley longer than strictly necessary.

He avoided the eyes of the woman on display behind the wooden bars. It only added to his discomfort how everything reminded him of cages and prison. The lighting was soft. The floors under his feet were clean. His eyes locked with the man behind the podium. A large floral display of lilies and chrysanthemums hung behind his shoulder. His dark eyes widened. He hastily moved to come from behind the counter and bow. He nearly knocked over the display.

"Namikaze-sama," he stammered. "The Hero of Fire." His voice held great marvel.

Minato nearly flinched. His newfound notoriety was a detriment. He really did not want rumors to spread about how he chose to spend his time. He looked around with tired eyes at the faces in the lobby. He was not too worried about them. If they saw him, he saw them. They were as motivated as him to keep their comings and goings a secret.

"I need to see the Madam of the house," Minato said in a clear voice with confidence he did not feel.

The man's eyebrows nearly disappeared behind his receding hairline. "Of- of course," he nodded his head, seeming to think better of the protests that danced across his face. "Please," he gestured with his thumb folded across his palm and his fingers pressed together at the seats behind Minato, obscured in shadows. "Make yourself comfortable."

He kept the unease and discomfort he felt off his face as he settled into the seat. It did not take long for a woman to pour him some sake. He saw steam come off the cup. She giggled when he made the mistake of looking her in the eye. He set his jaw and lowered his gaze to the long red chrysanthemum flower sitting in a long glass vase that was half-filled with water.

He ignored the sounds of pleasure all around him on the open floor behind paper-thin rice-paper dividers. He swallowed thickly as his finger tapped against his knee keeping time. He had not waited no more than five minutes for a woman clad in a black and gold kimono with bright orange koi on the front, to approach him. Everything about her just screamed grace and composure.

"Namikaze-sama," she bowed her head. The pins and clips in her hair twinkled like windchimes when she lifted her head once more. Her dark hair, shiny with oils, was gathered high atop her head. It fell down to mid back like an oil spill falling over a waterfall. "I heard you are looking for me?"

He nodded his head. His eyes darted to the shadows behind the rice-paper door.

"I see," Reimi nodded her head. "Please follow me," she gathered her hands together and rested them in front of her stomach as she waited for him to get on his feet. Her dark eyes took in his simple kimono, white and made of cotton. Everything about him was unassuming as if not to draw attention to himself. But that was an impossible task. He was like the sun. Impossible to contain. Impossible to obscure.

She led him down the dark hallway that opened up to larger private rooms. Double shoji doors for each one. Sounds coming out each out. His eyes were trained on the back of her head. She opened the last door on the left. He stepped into the room. The bamboo floors creaked under his weight. He sat down next to the table. She closed the doors before she stood across from him.

Reimi smoothed the folds of her kimono. Her voice was pleasant. Her lilt was soothing to the ear. "I have a couple of girls in mind. I can assure you that you will find them adequate. I have a longstanding client who frequents one girl in particular. He seems to share your preference." The corners of her mouth pinched together for the briefest of moments. It was only noticeable given the contrast of the deep red against the pale white of her face. "They have red hair - dyed or through the use of wigs not natural of course. There are not many of those around anymore. But it is close enough."

"Sit down, please."

She lowered herself into the cushions. Her kimono pooled around her like the petals of a black rose. "I didn't figure you to be someone who prefers them older," she preened herself in a manner that could be considered teasing. She was testing the waters. Her dark eyes were critical. "But I suppose that is the nature of my business. What is revealed here is kept under wraps everywhere else."

Minato's mask contained no weakness. "I am not here for myself."

A dark brow arched up elegantly. "You don't have to feel shame for being human, Namikaze-sama. It has been quite some time," she eyed him knowingly. "The war is over. The battle is won. You are the hero. Let us take care of your needs. You will not be sorry."

"You misunderstand." His cobalt eyes almost looked navy in their unpredictability. "I am here specifically for that. For having my needs met."

Reimi's back straightened even more. Her dark eyes narrowed as she regarded him.

"I need," Minato ran his thumb along his jaw thoughtfully, "to know if someone said anything. While on the receiving end of one of your services."

Understanding filtered across her dark ink eyes. "I am not at liberty to speak about what takes place here. I'm sure you understand. You would not want me to share your presence with anyone else, would you?" She tilted her head to the side and smiled through her blood-red lips. "If word got out, my girls and I would starve."

"I am a reasonable man." Minato countered unflinchingly. "You will not have to worry about feeding yourself or your girls."

"If I had a bronze piece for every time I heard that," Reimi said with a scoff. "I would be retired. Talk is very cheap. You can build mansions out of words. But that is all it is, words. Empty talk." She pressed her lips together. Something about his energy was keeping her in the room. "Why should I believe you?"

Clatter.

The sound of a sack the size of the palm of his hand hitting the table echoed in the room. She looked at the purple bag before regarding him. Minato gestured with his eyes for her to check. Her pale hands came out to undo the drawstring. She pulled back. Gold coins rained down on the table as the fabric flattened.

"I'm the next Shogun." He stated the fact without additives. "Help me and I will give you and your girls jobs at the Shogun estate."

Her eyes widened. "Why would you do that?" She was too shocked to be anything but honest in her question.

"It is hard to find good help," Minato stated simply without emotion.

"And you think there is good help here?" Reimi crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

"Money can only buy so much," Minato admitted with a small sigh. "Money is just part of the equation."

"I was never very good at mathematics." Reimi's eyes did not leave his face.

"I find that hard to believe, Reimi-san." Minato raked a hand through his hair. He leaned back on his heels and held up his hand. "You built all this. You maintain all this. After your husband passed away fifteen years ago."

"You did your research."

"As did you," Minato's eyes had a hard glint. "I am a very good friend to have."

"Hm," she chuckled dryly. "And an even worse adversary." She focused on his sharp features and eyes. She could see the kindness peaking through the steel. "Am I really to believe you are more capable than worse than him?"

"Not worse," Minato answered truthfully. "We are different. I am thorough when I rain down devastation."

She resisted the urge to shiver. She believed him. "And if I refuse?"

"I leave," Minato answered without hesitation. "And you never see me again." But then she - and her girl - would have to see the other one over and over again. And his old age was making him less and less agreeable.

"The devil you know," she clicked her tongue.

Minato smiled. It did not reach his eyes. "Something like that."

She sighed. "A man in these walls admits things when he is at his most vulnerable." She did not need to tell him. He knew that. It was why he was here. But she was nothing if not a storyteller. "The things I have heard either directly with my ears or through the mouths of my girls." She hummed. "About taking a Hime and pushing her down the path of a whore. Beating her raw until the skin containing her insides, all but vanished not unlike a thread being pulled from a tapestry. Undoing all that work to create something so beautiful and cherished by many with just one act of violence."

The mask he had so carefully crafted and put in place crumbled. His eyes were darker than the dark waters of the oceans that were unexplored and undisturbed. She could feel the heat coming off of him as if he were a raging fire.

"Cruel things," she continued. Her voice was no longer pleasant to the ear. Her words were much too morbid. "About how many times she had cried out. Even how many times she lost consciousness and the arousal it all brought him. How strong and complete he felt every time she whimpered. How he almost cut off a lock of her hair to keep as a souvenir as a trophy to remind himself of that day." She sighed. "He wanted to. But he stopped himself. For her hair is pink - not red - it is simply too unique and distinctive."

His face was contorted into lines of deep-rooted rage. The first honest expression he had in all of their interaction.

"I know much," she ran her fingertip under her eye. "The question is can you handle it?"

He lost the ability to form coherent sentences long ago. He nodded his head once.

"Alright," she was not pleased or displeased at the development. "I have muscle. Meatheads but with hearts of gold."

"They can come too." He said without hesitation. Minato watched with sharp focus as she rested her chin on the back of her hand.

"Have you modeled before, Namikaze-sama?" Reimi asked him almost in a bored manner.

His expression did not lose any of its heat despite the sliver of confusion swirling in his head. He did not move when her hand came out to trace the curve of his jaw.

"Shame, you have the face for it," she mused. Her eyes moved slowly over his torso. "The physique for it too." She sighed. "One of my girls is very talented. They all are but she is multi-talented. She can capture a person's essence in paper and ink. It's uncanny." Reimi smiled knowingly as the door opened. A tray containing a bottle of warmed sake and two glasses were placed in front of them. The door closed once again.

Reimi poured him a cup before pouring her own. She sipped it slowly, turning her wrist elegantly. "You should come back in three day's time. The rest of your needs will be met then."

He steeled himself as Reimi opened her mouth. She began to speak. And he listened to every last word much like how an alcoholic drinks to the last drop of the bottle in their hand.

---

Mebuki was the one to open the gate for him. The solemn look on her face gave him all the context he needed. The skin of her cheeks seemed to be more taunt. He was not sure if it was from stress or something else. Her hand was around his wrist as she wordlessly led him to the room where Kizashi was resting. He was sitting up, which was more than Kabuto was expecting. The man was stubborn. He was beginning to see where Sakura got it from.

"He's declining," Mebuki looked at him with big eyes. "He gets tired faster and is more forgetful. Worse than what he was before we started him on anything. Is the medicine not working?" She asked the question anxiously. Her nails had been bitten down to the wick. Something that was also new. "Does the amount need to be adjusted? Am I not giving it to him correctly?"

"Mebuki, Dear," Kizashi curled his fingers over her hand. "Let the man breathe."

"Sorry," she mumbled miserably. Tears were pricking in the back of her eyes.

Kabuto took in the parlor of Kizashi's skin. He brought a hand to his wrist. He counted his pulse while keeping his eye on his wristwatch.

"Mebuki-san," he smiled gently at Mebuki. "Can you please prepare a cup of tea for Haruno-san? The hot water will help." He did not wait for her to respond before he opened the black medical bag that was by his hip.

"Oh course. I will make you one too." She directed to no one in particular. She left the room life a draft when the door was left open.

"Be direct, Sensei. How bad is it?" Kizashi stared at him with blue eyes that were cloudy. His breathing was slightly strained. Kabuto pressed his ear to Kizashi's back. The man breathed when Kabuto instructed him to.

He regarded the older man with hooded eyes. "Take this pill," Kabuto instructed.

Kizashi swallowed. Kabuto held up the glass that was at his bedside. Kizashi nodded his head in thanks.

"What does it do?" Kizashi asked him with his head cocked to the side.

"Hopefully we'll see the effect of it soon enough." Kabuto glanced at the clock. He monitored Kizashi's pulse in silence. The clock ticked the seconds away. Kizashi's eyes never left his face.

The medic smiled at Mebuki who appeared through the door with two ceramic steaming cups. She set them down. Before she could settle down next to her husband, Kabuto spoke.

"Mebuki-san, I've been craving curry."

Mebuki and Kizashi exchanged glances, caught off guard by the directness of the polite demand.

"I'll see what I can do." Mebuki hurried out of the room in the beginning stage of a fluster.

"Drink up, Haruno-san," Kabuto smiled at him unevenly.

"Right," maroon brows knitted together. He held the cup on his knee.

"You're declining as your wife said,'' Kabuto stated blankly. "It's not looking good."

Kizashi scoffed. He brought the tea to his lips. He took a loud sip after blowing on it. "I've been facing 'not good' for over a year now. This is nothing. I'll overcome it."

Kabuto sighed. "Not this time."

Kizashi blinked at him in shock. Kabuto took the half-consumed beverage from his loose fingers. He set Kizashi's cup on the ground. Blue eyes widened. His lips moved soundlessly.

"Your cells have been regenerating at ten times the normal rate. That's why you felt better. Because you were healing. You were getting stronger." Kabuto explained with a blank face. His eyes held no signs of life. They were flatter than his voice. "But like all things, cells could only regenerate so many times. The body can only heal up to a point. You have reached your threshold. You have crossed over to the side of detriment."

"Thre..threshold…detriment?" Kizashi frowned. "What does all that mean, Sensei? In simple talk."

"It means," Kabuto pushed up his glasses. Kizashi waited with his heart in his throat. "You will die unless I give you the medication to halt the rate at which your cells are dividing. You may have as many as five years if you take the medication now."

"I-is t-t-that w-w-wh-what you…" Kizahi trailed off in a pure state of panic.

"No." Kabuto pushed up his glasses. "That is not what I gave you." He flicked a piece of lint from his dark purple kimono. "Why?" He brought his hand to his ear mocking the man who was too stunned to speak. Too scared to speak. "Why, you ask?" He paused. "Sakura," Kabuto smiled at Kizashi. It was predatory. He saw confusion dance across Kizashi's eyes. "Is living with me. You don't have to worry about her anymore. Which is good. Because your time is just about up."

The shock on his face contorted into anger. He grabbed Kabuto's shirt and pulled him close to his face.

"I asked her to marry me. Went over your head this time. Directly to the source." Kabuto carried on completely unbothered. "I thought she would be thankful and say yes. After everything I did for her. For you. I saved her life. More than once. I offered her everything." He clicked his tongue. "It's true what they say the more you do the less it will be appreciated." He sighed deeply. "She said no. She rejected me. Do you know why?"

A low growl ripped through Kizashi's throat.

"Because of your shared philosophy; family above all else," he scoffed in disgust. "Because of you. You're deadweight. You are suffocating her. You are the reason she is held back." Kabuto laughed cruelly. "She could have had the Namikaze. He's a general. Well off. He would have treated her really well. He loves her. But she is so messed up in the head from what you put her through that she'll reject even him." His eyes darted over to the door. Mebuki was well out of earshot by the fire-burning stove.

Panic flashed across Kizashi's eyes. He brought his hand - the one not around Kabuto's collar - to his neck.

"She said no. So we had to do things the hard way, the unpleasant way." Kabuto clicked his tongue. A look of pity crossed his face. "It's a real shame. It would have been nice to have a big family." He grinned at the sweating Haruno. "To have an Otosan to discuss things with." He sighed, lamentingly. "But I am realistic. It is just not possible."

Kizashi's hands shook. It was getting harder for him to sit upright. "W-what?" He did not have the strength to finish the rest of his sentence. The mental strain was too much. Everything was hazy.

"The pill you so blindly ate?" Kabuto blinked slowly, relishing in Kizashi's horror as realization hit him. "It's going to make you very sleepy. It is slowly pushing your blood pressure up. You will have a blood vessel in your brain pop from the pressure. It will cause you to have a stroke. Don't worry," Kabuto assured him gently, "it will be a small one. But it will have some impact. You will not remember this conversation for one. It will leave you even more weakened. More confused. And every day you will suffer more and more strokes until the parts of your brain responsible for your involuntary movement all die. It will happen in a couple of days. It will be painless. It will appear sudden. Here one moment and gone the next." Kabuto pulled out a small vial containing a handful of pills. "These are what is going to kill you." He grinned maniacally. "They are your salvation. They will put you out of your misery. Thanks to these, your wife does not have to watch your body decay."

Kizashi's grip around his clothing loosened, and his mouth hung open. His face was frozen in an expression of unbridled horror. Kabuto pulled out a white powder from his bag. He poured it into the tea. He swirled it around.

"This will help ease you into sleep. You'll feel less discomfort." He guided the glass to Kizashi's lips. The man shook his head.

"It's okay," Kabuto shushed him gently. "Drink up, Otosan." His lips pulled into a smile. "I'll take good care of your daughter. I will do what you were not able to."

Kizashi blinked at him with confusion cutting through the terror.

"You married into a dying clan. The mysterious illness killed most of the smaller branches. The same illness that killed so many, twenty years ago. You were handed a golden opportunity. And yet you failed to take advantage."

"A clan with only daughters. You could have modeled the clan to your bloodline. You could have been a king. You could have been someone. Instead, you chose this life. You condemned your children and wife to a life of poverty and backwater beliefs." Kabuto spat out in disgust. "You did not learn the secret."

"Children fix everything." Kabuto chuckled. "And while children are precious to parents. Grandchildren are even more so to their grandparents. She would have welcomed you had you shown up with your newborn daughter on their doorstep. The Senju are bleeding hearts. All of them. Makes them easy to manipulate."

Kabuto smoothed the flyaways on Kizashi's head. "Just imagine the admiration and adoration a great-grandchild will receive. They will be a hero." His lips pulled into a warm smile. "Salvation." He made a sympathetic sound. He smiled at Kizashi almost reassuringly.

"I will make sure I don't die in obscurity like you. I will be a Senju. I will have a name. I will have a clan. I will finally belong. I will have everything." Kabuto forced the liquid down Kizashi's throat. The man fought the heaviness in his eyelids.

"She wrote you a letter. Telling you that she's safe and fine. She's trying to shield you from the torture she endured to protect you. She was beaten. Accused of being a thief. Disgraced. I saved her yet again. I am her hero." He shook his head. "She lied to you. To preserve your honor. She has no idea that I am the one who holds it in my hands." He chuckled with a great deal of amusement. "You didn't give me your daughter because I am a nobody, because I am unclaimed. Well, it's no matter. I bought her." He grinned from ear to ear. His eyes held light and excitement. "Everything has a price. And I paid it. I paid for her. She became exactly what you did not wish her to be. You sold your daughter to me. I own her." Kabuto's expression hardened. "You really aren't a man. You led me straight to her. She will no longer have a father over her head. It doesn't matter how close Konoha is. It is going to be much too far for you, Otosan."

Kabuto studied Kizashi blankly. The man was pitiful.

"I may have been born nameless and penniless but that is not how I will die." Kabuto stated. "And it is all thanks to your sacrifice. I will not forget you, Otosan. When we have a son we will name him Kizuru in your honor. It's only fitting because you gave me everything." All the while taking from his daughter yet again.

Kizashi swung his arm wildly. It was not cooperating with the signals his brain was sending it. He made a gurgling sound.

"This face, the one you're wearing right now," Kabuto leaned forward as he held Kizashi's sweating face in his hands, "is what I'm going to picture every time I am on top of your daughter." He promised in a whisper.

Kabuto lowered Kizashi's head down onto his pillow. He pulled the covers over his chin. With a gentle hand, he closed the man's still-open mouth and eyelids.

"It's a shame you won't get to meet your grandchildren. They will be somebodies. They will be everything we were not when we were born into this world." Kabuto wiped away the lone tear that had escaped Kizashi's eye. "Sweet dreams, Otosan."

Kabuto closed his bag. He set the new medication next to Kizashi's bedside and rose to his feet. He was all smiles and laughs as he kept Mebuki company while she prepared their dinner. He softened the blow by saying he gave Kizashi medicine to help him sleep with the promise that he would be feeling better tomorrow. Mebuki happily accepted his word because she had no reason not to.

He was beginning to see Sakura in her parents. Or was it her parents in her?

---

When she opened the shop for the day, a stack of letters held together with twine awaited her. They captured her attention and interest completely. So much so, that she did not bother to look around the street if the person who left them was still in the general area. They were not of her concern. She bent down to gather them. She recognized the handwriting immediately just at a glance. She moved quickly back into the shop. She tore at the twine. With fumbling fingers she opened the first letter. Her eyes moved rapidly as she read. She set it face down. She grabbed the next envelope. Over and over again she opened and read and set aside. Sakura leaned back against the counter. Only one letter remained in her hand, the latest one. They provided a timeline. One for every week she had been removed from the Namikaze Compound. They provided a bleak picture. Her father was in dire condition. Her mother's growing panic and desperation came across clearly. It struck her as jarringly as a slap across her face.

Her world stopped spinning for a moment. Sakura blinked into the void. The ground called to her. It coaxed her to come join it preferable in a fetal position. She ignored it. Just like she ignored everything else. Because she knew that if she listened she would never get back up.

The door opened. She gathered the letters and opened envelopes on the counter. She rounded the divider. She tucked the parchment under the counter. She smiled. "Welcome in." The elderly couple dipped their heads in greeting. They perused the items with no clear sense of urgency. The smile slid off her face.

'Please.' She prayed inwardly. 'Please let the Sensei have made it in time.' She bargained with any deity that would listen. Not caring if partaking in the action quantifiably categorized her as insane.

---

"Did I hear right?" Danzo's voice called out from the shadows.

Minato turned his head and paused. "Come again, Shimura-ama?" He asked in an innocent voice.

"That you were at the pleasure house?" The acid was dripping off his words by the bucketful.

"It is," Minato rolled his head slowly. "I suppose there really is no such thing as discrete anymore is there?"

Danzo hid his anger well with his frown. "I thought I had made myself clear, that if you need anything to let me know. I specifically said not to lie to me so that I can lie for you. Could I have been clearer?"

"No," Minato smiled at him easily. "You were very clear. You showed me the house and that was more than enough, Shimura-sama. I am more than capable of handling the rest." He paused to allow a thoughtful look to settle on his face. "You were right. Madam Reimi is quite the professional. She is very committed to ensuring all needs are met for full satisfaction."

His cane tapped against the ground. It was an uncontrolled and unplanned action born out of reaction. He gave into his anger for a second. Minato's eyes were navy when he lifted them from the cane to Danzo's face.

"Well maybe now you will take my other advice to heart," Danzo said slowly as he regained a grip on his composure. "The difference between a whore and a wife."

Minato nodded his head in agreement. "Yes. I have been thinking about it. I think you're right again. It is time for me to find a wife."

Danzo kept the surprise that he felt on his face. "Oh?"

"Please tell Tsuhi-san," Minato watched his face closely. "To not prolong her stay at the compound on my account. It would make it rather awkward to explain her presence to potential suitoresses and their families."

This time Danzo's whole arm twitched, not just his cane. His nostrils flared and he saw the bloodlust flash across his lone good eye.

"May I ask what is lacking in my niece?" Danzo asked him through clenched teeth.

"Nothing," Minato answered honestly. "She is just not who I picture spending the rest of my life with." There was an earthy grit to his tone as he wove truth into the facade.

"Such words are not fitting for a man of your stature. Leave such foolish notions behind," Danzo hissed at him. "There is only one picture that should be in your head." The one where he was Shogun.

"I couldn't agree more, Shimura-sama. There is only one." Minato dipped his head. "If you'll excuse me. It is about time for me to fetch Naruto." He did not pause to take in the fury that was radiating off the older man. He was too busy basking in the glow of having the upper hand.

---

He had been trapped in duality. He had been obsessed with going back to what had been that he missed out on what was. That was his mistake. He was indecisive. He wanted both. So now he had neither. The scroll in his pocket, no bigger than his hand now that it was rolled up and sealed tightly, was everything. It was currently his most prized possession for what it represented. What it could represent. Hope.

And that was why he was without conflict as he stood in the street peering into the wall of windows of the shop with a blue door. The medical symbol obscured just enough of the right-hand side to hide details but he could see the heads. He could count the heads. The shop was nearly at capacity. It was busier than at any point he had seen before. The reason for it was clear.

He was looking right at her. She was smiling as she conversed with a woman. Her hair was carefully tucked away in the shroud she wore for protection. Her mask was firmly settled into place. He knew because even from across the way, her smile did not reach her eyes. They were flat. They were without light. It was not all that different from the Sensei's artificial smile. Only hers was more convincing. It was a very good fake smile. Just like her mask. It was almost perfect. So perfect that most believed it to be her true self. But he knew better.

He watched her interact with her customer, with what had become of her world, with a level head. He could do it now because he had hope. Hope to pull her away from the situation where he knew in his bones that she was in danger. The Sensei was not a good man. Despite his actions and his words. They did not line up. And unfortunately, he knew firsthand what that was like. For he was the same. Minato's words, actions, and intentions with Sakura were not one and the same. They had never been in the past. Even if he convinced himself that they were. He was no different from the man he despised. But that has changed now.

For he had hope. She knew him. And he knew her. She must have felt his gaze because he found himself staring into a pair of emerald eyes. His heart skipped a beat. The smile - the all too convincing fake smile - slid off her face the second their eyes locked. Time stopped. He held his breath. She was the first to look away. She broke the connection before it could form in earnest. She turned back to her customer with the same smile on her face. The mask was back up. He exhaled. The fact that his lungs did not burn bothered him. She had barely looked at him.

He picked up his feet and pointed them in the direction of home. Things were going to change. His actions and words would be one. There was no room for duality in his life. Not now and not in the future. Because he had hope. Hope that everything will turn out the way it was supposed to. He just had to be patient a little bit longer.

---

She let out a groan at the sight of him lounging casually on his back with his head cradled in his right palm - his arm bent at the elbow. His left hand was resting across his abdomen. His legs crossed at the ankles. It was as if he were without a care in the world. She wondered if his brain was without a single thought as well.

Minato was not offended at her reaction to seeing him. Not when it was not the first or even the fifth time. It was all par for the course with her. He turned back to look at the half-moon.

"What's wrong?" He asked the moon.

"You," Sakura said glumly. She settled by the ladder. She folded her legs under her. "Why are you always here?"

"Do we have to go over this every time, Sakura?" He rubbed his face tiredly. "My answer - the answer - hasn't changed. I don't know."

She tossed her hair over her left side in an action born from frustration. Her thumb began to pick at her hangnail because even in her dreams she could not get away from the bad habit. Her eyes darted over to Minato. Her two bad habits.

"I'm feeling restless," she addressed no one in particular. She pressed her hand to her chest. Her fingers tightened around her kimono. "It won't go away."

"Everything will be fine." He said calmly. "Worrying will change nothing. You'll only drive yourself into the ground."

Sakura glared at him. "Easy for you to say. Your life is turning out pretty great."

Minato rolled his eyes and let out a grunt. "You would know better than me."

"The letters," she sighed. "Did you leave them?"

Minato made a noncommittal response. He got them to where they needed to be. "How is your Otosan?"

"No." She said flatly. "You have no right to ask. You don't get to ask."

"Sakura, I'm worried about you." Minato's eyes settled on her face. "You're under a lot of pressure."

"It's nothing I'm not used to. I'm fine." She shook her head. "I'm great."

"Good." Minato turned away from her. "There's nothing I want more."

"You are so full of shit!" She snapped. "Do these lines work for you?" She crossed her arms. "Maybe they are more believable out of the mouth of a child." She wondered what someone like Kushina saw in him.

"You're angry." He stated calmly.

"And you're not welcome here!"

"I didn't come here to fight." He raked a hand through his hair, pulling at his roots.

"I thought you said you don't know why you're here." She shot back.

"I don't know how or even why," he frowned, "but I know it's not to make you angry. Or to hurt you any more than I already have." Everything about him was earnest and it made it all that much harder to stay angry at him.

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I feel like I'm going crazy." She said in exasperation. "I am crazy."

"You're not." Minato countered her unsureness with firmness.

"I am," Sakura regarded him with a marginally softer expression. "Because I am doing the same thing over again and expecting somehow things to end up differently. That is literally the definition of insanity. Therefore, I am insane." She concluded her proof with conviction. It was oddly liberating in a way. Calling out what she felt.

"Sakura," he sighed, "it's not the same. You know it's not. You know who I am now."

Sakura laughed. "My eyes are still closed. It is the same." She looked at the moon with a dull ache in her heart. Her mind wandered back to Tonkia where it was more and more. When it was not thinking about him.

"I'm still in denial." She said softly.

"You stopped using names." Minato said lightly despite the focus of his eyes. They were trained on her face. The right half of it.

"I don't know which one to use." Sakura closed her eyes.

"I suppose that's fair." Minato sighed once more.

"You're distracted." Sakura frowned. "Is everything okay? Is Naruto-kun okay?" Real concern bled into her voice and etched into her features.

"He's fine all things considered." Minato answered quickly but levelly. "Everyone is fine."

"Are you worried about something?" She pressed.

"What happened to curiosity not being a good thing?" He raised a brow in a barely concealed attempt to avoid answering her question. He did not want to lie to her. Even if it was in a dream.

"You're right." Sakura kissed her teeth. "Insanity." She mused. Sakura leaned back on her palms and looked up at the night sky. The restlessness was still very much there but it was more bearable.

"It's not the same, Sakura." He insisted. He was determined to make his belief a reality. "You're not insane."

She scoffed in her only response. It was swallowed by the deafening silence of the weight of their actions, past, current, and future.

---

Tense was not strong enough of a word to encompass the feeling in the tea room. Danzo was outright with his animosity as much as he could communicate with his body language. If the air that surrounded him was bottled, Minato would not be surprised if it was poisonous or injurious to someone's well-being in some way. His cobalt eyes wandered to the clock. Jiraiya sat like a stone on his stool with his arms crossed, eyes closed, and head bowed.

Minato had been patient out of necessity. They waited weeks. He waited weeks quietly. It seemed impossible to wait just minutes more. Heels clicked off in the distance, growing gradually loudly until each one was a strike of a hammer against rolled sheet metal. Loud. There was a pop and a loud screech. The doors nearly ripped from their hinges. Only a modicum of self-control kept them from being torn and folded in half like a biscuit dipped in tea.

Tsunade in the full fury of her irateness stomped into the room. She slammed her hands on the table. Teapots and teacups rattled. Sweets and droplets of tea were sent airborne. "You Bastard!" She snarled, pointing a finger in Danzo's unblinking face.

"Move your finger Hime before it is moved for you," Danzo warned in a low tone.

Before anyone in the room could say anything. A man was thrown roughly into the room. The guard without his helmet stared up at the faces with sweaty brows and darting eyes. His breath was erratic. Ever so often his dark orbs would linger on Danzo's face but the man pointedly refused to meet his gaze.

Kakashi nonchalantly strolled into the room as if he were not the one to throw the guard into it by his hair no less. Jiraiya, Minato, Tsunade, and even Dazo watched as Kakashi unfurled a scroll with the flick of his wrist. He bent down and gathered a fist full of black hair. He pulled back, earning a grunt from the guard, and held out the scroll right next to his face.

"What do you say, Jiraiya-sama?" He stared at the white-haired man expectantly.

"Hmm," Jiraiya made a contemplative sound. He rubbed his chin while his eyes moved from the sweaty man in Kakashi's grip to the drawing on the scroll. "I'm no art connoisseur," Jiraiya drawled out. "But it looks to be the same man."

"That's good enough for me." Kakashi shoved him into the ground. He held him in place with his knee to the man's back. The Hatake procured a small blade from inside his navy blue robes. "Who wants to do the honors?"

"It should be me." Tsunade hissed. "He's the one who framed my niece!"

The guard lost all cool to his face when Kakashi handed Tsunade the blade. He was hauled to his feet. Kakashi pinned his arms behind his back. Tsunade with an unhinged glint in her eye brought the blade until it was touching his Adam's apple. It moved up and down when the man gulped.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Danzo asked calmly. The guard looked instantly relieved at Danzo's interjection on his behalf.

"He stole from me, Shimura-sama." Minato explained in a detached voice. "We found gold in his quarters." Minato's eyes lacked all traces of life when he regarded the nearly blubbering guard. "The precedent for the punishment of theft was set by Otosama." His eyes landed on Tsuande's face. "Go ahead, Tsunade-sama."

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" The guard begged the instant Tsunade pressed hard enough to draw blood. "It was Shimura-sama! He gave me the gold!"

Four heads turned in the direction of Danzo.

Outrage flashed across Danzo's eye before it was adopted by the expression on his face. "Thirty years I have worked for this house! More than thirty years like a dog! And all it takes is one utterance from a lowly, no-face, no-name guard for you to look at me in question?! For you to question my loyalty! This will not stand. This never would have stood under the First Master."

"You're right Shimura-sama," Minato nodded his head slowly. "One allegation is not enough to question over thirty yards of service." Minato tilted his head to the side, making eye contact with someone beyond the room. Kakashi stepped to the side - still holding the guard.

Heads turned to see no less than seven guards with their heads bowed, hands tied, and on their knees in the middle of the courtyard. Minato stepped onto the platform. He made his way over. He heard sets of footprints doing the same.

"We have seven more allegations that corroborate the first," Minato's hand swept in the direction of the guards bound by rope and held captive by two of their fellow former colleagues.

"Blasphemy!" Danzo sneered. "You paid them money! You put them up to it."

"I think you're confused, Shimura." Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "That is how you operate."

"Shimura-sama," Minato spoke over Danzo's sputters. "If you tell the truth right now, I will spare their lives and allow you to walk out of here with your honor still intact."

"You want the truth," Danzo's eye was a slit. He did not look at the hopeful faces of the eight captured guards. "I have no idea who those scum are and where they got their coins from."

"Kill them." Minato's eyes were flat. The first guard in the line's head was severed from his body. It rolled to the ground. The other guard lurched forward as the body fell to the ground.

Danzo did not so much as blink.

"Are you sure that is what you want to stick to?" Minato asked Danzo again levelly.

"It is the truth."

Minato looked over to the guard. Another throat was slit, and another head rolled to the ground.

"I can do this all day," Danzo's voice full of gravel and smoke said raspily.

"Again," Minato instructed.

"Wait!" The next in line tried to hold up his bound hands. "Please!"

Minato held out his hand. The guard lowered the blade.

"Shimura-sama told me to watch her! The girl. I reported all the times she and the Master met. You have to believe me!" The next guard pleaded.

"Shimura-sama had me throw her out! Behind the Sensei's shop," the one to the right of him spoke up. The both of us!"

"I planted the hair clip," the one in Kakashi's grip sobbed. "He had Uka steal it and give it to me. I put it in her room the day of the search. He told me to put it in her closet."

Minato looked at the two guards behind Kakashi, they exchanged a glance. The guard in question was transferred to them. They dragged him back to the line. His sobs filled the air as they forced him onto his knees and bound his hands in front of him joining the queue that awaited death. Before Minato could instruct another head to roll, a woman's cries ran out. She was being led into the courtyard by her arms by Tomha and Miharu. She let out a wail at the two headless bodies of the guards.

"No!" Uka screamed as she tried to cover her face. "I had no choice," she cried. "Shimura-sama threatened to fire me and make me blacklisted. I had to do it, please. Please don't kill me! I have three children and a sick mother." The woman threw up the contents of her stomach.

Tomoha winced as Miharu tried desperately to not do the same as Uka.

"You beat my niece," Tsuande whirled around and grabbed a fistful of Dano's front. She lifted him clear off the ground. "You beat a Senju." Her amber eyes were narrowed and her nostrils flared. Gasps filled the courtyard at the news. "You will pay for this."

"You are making a mistake," Danzo spat back. "She is nothing!" Danzo struggled in her grip. He reached into his dark garbs before snarling at Tsunade. "She has no clan, no name, and no home. She is less than nothing. I did you a favor!" Danzo shouted at the coiled Minato, goading him. "She - the girl - was a distraction. You will be Shogun. She would have held you back. I saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life. From making the same mistake twice."

Minato's eyes flashed. He moved so fast that he was nothing more than a blur. "Careful," he growled, low and guttural, "with the next words that come out of your mouth." His hand squeezed Danzo's jaw. Tsuande's grip had slacked. Minato was the one holding him up now. He grabbed Danzo's wrist. The one holding his tanto that he had pulled out from his dark kimono. The blade clattered to the ground when Minato twisted his hand at an angle that would easily snap his bones. All he needed was a little more pressure. A little more reason to let his rage be free.

Jiraiya picked it up from the floor. He turned it in his hands. His dark eyes never left the back of Danzo's head.

Danzo stared Minato down, unflinchingly. His face melted into impassiveness. "You can't get rid of me. I know too much."

"True but now so does everyone else about you. Everything is out in the open." In the light. The smirk on Minato's face was cold and terrifying a lick of fear rolled up Danzo's spine. He looked around the compound. All the workers were there along with the guard - the ones that passed the vetting process by Kakashi and Jiraiya. "Word will spread about what you did in hours," Minato said what was all but certain. "No one will want to touch you now."

Danzo froze in his grip. The gears of his mind turned.

Minato's eyes promised repercussions. "You have two options. Spend the rest of your days as a guest in the Namikaze prison quarters or I gut you right here in front of everyone with your own weapon. And your name, your family will all have to live with the shame you brought upon them."

It was today and only today that Minato was thankful his father was who he was; that when Naoto took control of the deceased merchant's home the first thing he built was a prison. His father was as practical as he was ruthless. He wondered if his father designed it knowing that this day would eventually come. Maybe his father truly did not have any friends.

"I will go," Danzo caught himself from stumbling once Minato let go of him.

"You have an hour to gather your things." Minato nodded at Jiraiya.

The white-haired man grabbed Danzo by the elbow. The man shook him off. They disappeared into the turns of the house. Followed by two guards. He left his cane at his seat, forgetting about it entirely. Tsunade was the first to notice. She picked it up and snapped it in half over her knee, letting out a growl. She threw the two broken pieces to the side in disgust all while saying curses none-too-quietly. Some were so colorful that not even Kakashi and Minato had heard them before. She made a comment about finding Shizune before she too left, leaving only the two men in the immediate area.

"He gave in way too easily." Kakashi wiped the drops of blood from his katana on his handkerchief.

Minato's jaw clenched slightly. He was thinking the same thing.

"Are you sure about this?" Kakashi looked at him with a critical eye. "Leaving him alive? What's to stop him from trying to communicate with the Shogun who is being forced out?"

"Vigilance," Minato answered through barely moving lips. "I'm relying on you to keep an eye on my back. And know that I have yours."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Kakashi popped his neck. "Fine. The guards lost will be replaced easily enough. There will be a line out the door once it comes out that the Yellow Flash is looking for new soldiers for his ranks."

Minato nodded his head. "You and Shika are in charge of vetting them. Take your time. Give preference to those we worked with in our battalion."

"Understood." Kakashi looked at the five guards that were loyal to Danzo. They were still on their knees with their heads bowed. Sweaty messes all of them. "What do we do with them?"

"Kill them." He said without hesitation, emotion, or duality. He did not even blink.

"I'll double-check that Danzo is weaponless before he's locked away. Ojichan can be lackadaisical with these things."

Minato uncrossed his arms. "Be mindful of yourself. He may be old but he is still a warrior."

Kakashi snorted. "Let him try something and all this would just sort itself out, the easy way." He sighed. "All jokes aside, why let him live? After everything he did?"

"I owed him a debt," Minato answered truthfully. "Without him, I would not be alive and neither would Naruto. Because without Shimura-sama, Otosama would be dead. All the good things in life I experienced - all the beautiful things - were made possible because of him. By sparing his life, my debt to him is cleared."

"Sounds like a whole lot of bullshit to me," Kakashi scratched the back of his head. "What about Uka? The woman who helped them?

"Nothing, tell her to come back to work once she's recovered," Minato answered. Minato sighed deeply at the all too familiar wide eyes of Kakashi. He was gaping at him from behind his mask. "It's what Sakura would want. Uka-san is not the enemy, Shimura-sama was. If it hadn't been her it would have been someone else. "

"Why kill the guards then?"

"He blackmailed Uka-san. He paid the guards. There's a difference."

Not from where Kakashi stood. Kakashi shook his head. "You're getting soft."

"Maybe," Minato mused noncommittally. He felt lighter than he had in years. He tilted his head up and looked at the clear sky. A pink petal danced in his line of sight in the warm breeze. He held out his hand, it landed in his palm.

'Sakura, just wait a little bit more. I'm coming to bring you back home.'

Minato smiled. Kakashi did not comment and pretended not to notice. He simply walked over to the line of five men and gave a gesture. More heads rolled. Kakashi grimaced. They had a lot to clean up before Naruto arrived at the gates. The courtyard had to be spotless. Not even a single drop of blood was allowed on a single leaf to be left over as a reminder of what took place that day.

A cleansing.

---

A/N: So...yeah. That happened. Minato finally did some things but it looks like Kabuto did some more things. To those of you who did not trust him, good job! He's human garbage. And our poor Sakura is living with said garbage. If y'all would like a quick turn around for the next chapter, review. Otherwise I might just take my sweet time with the edits. Lol jk. Unless I'm not.

Let me know what you're feeling/thinking/experiencing. I wanna know. Please and thank you!