Consider this story AU, but still ninja, still war,
still most of the major plot points, though mixed around.
Please find this story on AO3 for a more detailed note on the lore.
If you're here for SasuSaku, it's a SLOWburn so
please have patience. I promise this is a SasuSaku fic...
It's coming!
.
.
Covenant
.
.
Synopsis: Four years into the Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru offers to turn.
He all but requests Sakura by name to be the contact.
It is, quite clearly, a trap—least of all because he's supposed to be dead.
But what is a losing side to do except take the hand that's offered?
.
.
Prologue
The physical torture was the easy part.
A body can acclimate to anything. The burning, the stabbing, the cutting. When it was done, as always, she was permitted to heal herself. The torture was bearable. Painful, but bearable. And it always came to an end.
The betrayal hurt far more.
How he stood there by the door sometimes, watching as an interrogator carved pictures into her skin. How he held her arm down as they broke her fingers, and healed them, and broke them and healed them. How they encased her head in water until she passed out, then had him revive her to do it again. How he led her to the torture room without force and carried her back to his room when it was over. How he held her at night when her body shook from the shock. How he fit his hand around her neck as he slid into her and kissed her till she forgot she was a prisoner of war—and everyone was dead. How he trapped her with his devotion.
How he had turned her over to Madara.
There was no healing the trauma of this.
1. The Offer
.
.
FOUR YEARS of war had left the world decimated.
Hidden villages and split alliances dissolved, the continent hosted only two armies now: Madara's, and the Allied Shinobi Forces. Neutrality was a luxury lost in the conflict; there was no middle ground left. Madara treated anyone refusing to pledge full allegiance to him as an enemy.
Organized by former villages for efficiency, the Allied army's five divisions stationed themselves strategically across the map in their respective countries.
The first battle convinced the five Kage that full-army combat was mutually assured destruction—an outcome that only benefitted the enemy. And Madara's growing power made it increasingly unlikely the Allies could fight to even a draw in another all-out confrontation.
In hindsight, that Madara breaking the Reanimation Jutsu caused him to collapse on the brink of victory was short of a miracle. The chaos within the enemy army in his and Tobi's absence gave the Allies time to withdraw, regroup, and settle in for the long haul.
It was now a war of attrition.
The Allies had the numbers without factoring in Zetsu, but their enemies' strength was barely matched and unimaginable. Madara's top generals could wipe out whole companies on their modest days. Numbers mattered so little against their skill. While a handful of Allied shinobi were powerful enough to rival them, it was dangerous for the strongest Allies to present themselves in battle.
Fielding any high-profile, Kage-level fighter risked calling out Madara, and there was nothing to counter his unnatural ability. Not a soul alive could face him. To see him on the battlefield was to meet the God of War.
But—if no one of interest was involved, Madara rarely bothered joining the fight. A fact the Allies leveraged.
Shikamaru proposed it was his ego; Gaara suspected something more obscure kept the Uchiha patriarch from fighting frequently.
Leveraging whatever it was, however, left a sour taste in Sakura's mouth. It meant the strong stayed secluded in base while others, weaker and less capable, carried out missions on their behalf. Without their protection. Reduced to little more than sacrificial lambs for slaughter to avoid luring out the monster.
Like this boy staring up at her, looking nowhere and into her simultaneously.
From his mouth came the sound of drowning. His lungs tried desperately to pull in air and expel the heavy, chakra-laced water that filled them instead. He spasmed, face an ashy blue. The whites of his eyes busted blood-veins red.
Whatever plagued him took hold hours before they brought him to her medical tent. She needed to cast her hands across his chest for only a second to know.
He was going to die. Painfully. In about—20 minutes.
Sakura ended the scan.
The jutsu on the boy was a nasty thing; something she'd never seen before. Ingenious, really—some kind of delayed-release transmorph. The product of a kekkei genkai she'd yet to encounter or a newly created jujutsu.
For now, though, its nature was irrelevant. What mattered was how it'd sunk so far into the boy's chakra channels that not even hourly healings would purge it. It probably hit him days ago, if she were to guess. Likely hadn't caused any initial or visible symptoms.
So he'd foregone a medical screen and missed it.
Now, parts of the oxygen he breathed slowly called to and bonded with hydrogen in his body, forming trace amounts of water in his lungs. Every breath was another sodden nail hammered into his coffin. What was once trace amounts had pooled until there was too much to inhale; the wet rattle creaking out his bronchi signaled he would soon sink beneath an unseeable tide.
Given a few hours, she could probably work out the counter.
If he'd gotten a medical check upon returning from his mission—as protocol dictated—medics would've caught the irregularity. They would've alerted Sakura or the Hokage, who could've dealt with the novel jutsu long before it was too late.
But he didn't have hours, and she couldn't save him. Unlike the typical battle injuries medical ninjutsu handled quickly, complex jujutsu and fuinjutsu took time to undo.
Such was the fate of a medic: The power to save everyone—the inability to do so.
The boy made an awful gurgling sound again. He couldn't be older than 18. Maybe just 15.
Years ago, even the thought of a dying child would've boiled her blood and reduced her to tears that night. But years ago, those she'd considered children were even younger... Now, at 20, she tried to bury the realization that she, too, had been a just child when the war began.
Sakura placed her hand on the boy's. "Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." He did. Gazing down upon him, she confessed, "I can't undo it at this point, and it can't be managed long-term."
There was the briefest of pauses as another pained sound escaped his mouth. He was clearly trying to focus on her face but struggling to find her eyes.
Sakura considered apologizing to him like she used to apologize to the dying years ago.
Instead, she said: "What I can do for you now is numb the pain or end it fast. If you want pain reduction, squeeze once. If you want it to end, squeeze twice."
The boy squeezed twice.
As she would've, too. It was for the best.
"Shino."
He stepped into the tent. "Here."
She inventoried his pained expression. He'd brought the boy in—perhaps the boy was a scout under Shino's command.
"We need essence of lily," she said. It was code. One that she'd used with Shino more than either of them wished to remember.
Shino stilled, nodded calmly, then moved forward and took the boy's hand from hers. Lifting the three-stripe visor, he stared directly at the boy's face.
"You did well, Maruna. I was honored to have you under my command. I will send word to your family."
So the boy had a name, and Maruna still had family.
Then he was likely a recent civilian recruit. His parents were probably so proud when Konoha Division accepted him. Maybe Shino saw potential and recruited Maruna himself. Maybe Maruna fathered early, and his family line would continue under his ghostly watch.
It was easier to let her mind wander with these little possibilities during this sort of thing. Focusing on the small, unimportant parts—creating something out of nothing. Distracting herself from the reality of what she was about to do.
Behind Shino, Sakura made the hand signs. She'd created a medical jutsu that connected her to a person's body systems depending on the forms used.
Beyond expediting death, she hadn't found much use for it yet.
She grabbed hold of the boy's—Maruna's—central nervous system. It fell into her consciousness, the weight of it bearing down on her psyche. Her own lungs struggled to pull in air as her body responded to his, its overwhelming mass threatening to overtake her.
After a steadying breath, she detached the innate link her body wanted desperately to form with the new presence. It was a speedy process; it had to be. Linking to the central nervous system of another was dangerous—even more so when the link was to turn it off.
The snap of a successful barrier sank between her mind and his.
The initial fear this jutsu always called forth eased away. She was Sakura, and he was Maruna, and she had slim seconds to retain control of him and maintain herself. Hands held up before her chest, palms open towards the boy's body, closed into fists.
"Stop," she commanded.
She undid the jutsu immediately, but it was never fast enough to avoid the feeling of death. For the tiniest fraction of reality, Sakura felt her body calling to link itself to the end.
The boy died. Sakura held in a shudder.
Shino closed the corpse's eyes. "There are other ways to do that."
"But this way is painless," she replied.
"For him. But he'll be gone either way." He gave her a pointed look before dropping the visor back into place. "And you will still be here."
It wasn't the first time Shino noted his doubt about her jutsu. It probably wouldn't be the last.
"Well, on my day to go, I hope someone offers me the quick and easy way out."
Shino's lip twitched in what was either a grin or a grimace. "Unfortunately for you, I don't see anyone extending that courtesy. Tsunade would spare no resources to bring you back from the brink of death. No one would dare just let you go, let alone facilitate it."
She chuckled. It was a morbid discussion over the body of a dead child outfitted in military gear. It certainly wasn't funny, nor was the picture he painted of her, quite possibly, extended and painful death.
But war had a way of jading those caught in it like that.
"And unfortunately for you," she quipped back, "now that you've heard my dying wish, you're morally obligated to fulfill it when the time comes."
Shino placed a tag across the boy's—Maruna's chest, made a sign, and the body vanished from the table. Likely back to his command tent, where he could then transport it back to the family.
"I'd sooner face Madara tonight, chakra-depleted, than Naruto after having killed you."
Her brows knitted. Disliking her method was one thing, but implying she'd murdered the kid...
"He was going to die regardless. There was nothing I could do."
"I know. I didn't—mean it like that." He reached out as if to mend the wrong.
Grabbing his offered hand with both of hers, she pulled it up, placing it on her chest just below the neck. "I know, I know." His heat seeped into her a few more seconds before she released him.
Sakura turned to clean the tent. Shino made small talk for a bit, then made his exit to deal with the body.
He left just as her watch showed it was almost time for the debrief.
Sighing, she inspected the now disinfected space. It was running low on antiseptic. On bandages. On most herbs. That distinct lack-of wasn't new, but always felt. The ultimate question of necessary choice hung heavy across the medic tents.
In response, the development rate of new and complex healing jutsu mushroomed. They were healing things never before possible—curing ailments at astonishing speeds.
And still losing more people than ever seen in history.
After one last sweep for any missed dirt, Sakura started her march through the tent city. Waving to those who waved and nodding to those who passed.
There was hope in the chilly, early-February air—always hope. But it barely touched the shoulders of those within the base. Four years was enough to beat the hope out of a heart, though perhaps not enough to beat the hope out of an army.
Who was to say? Maybe that happened in year five.
Someone filled the space to her left. "Debrief?"
"Mhm," Sakura hummed. "Need a scan?"
"Sure. Couldn't hurt, right?"
"Of course, you know I don't mind. When we get to Kage Tent, I'll run a quick diagnostic."
"Thanks, Sakura." Tenten smiled, though it dropped from her face a moment later.
Sakura took Tenten's hand and the woman didn't shake her off. Everyone knew Sakura needed frequent physical touch to stay grounded. Most people found it comforting, anyway.
"Did Maruna make it?"
Brow raised, Sakura glanced at the other woman. Tenten hated death. Hated seeing it, hated thinking about it, hated that it had to happen.
"He didn't." Sakura hesitated. "...Were you with Shino's squad this mission?"
Shino's team had been dispatched somewhere near Kiri Division's base, way out east. Tenten was typically assigned solo work on the western front.
If she weren't looking, Sakura would've missed the distinct freeze of Tenten's shoulders.
"I heard from other scouts," Tenten answered noncommittally.
Sakura knew better than to dive into it in the open like this. Hundreds of army members surrounded them.
Instead, she nodded. "Of course."
Information was King in war. The right intelligence could turn a losing battle in minute one into a victory in minute two.
Tenten was a gatherer—her specialty was information. To press a gatherer for knowledge out in the open was akin to asking a Kage where they'd stationed Killer B and Naruto that month.
The women made it to Kage Tent in silence after that. Tenten lifted the flap and held it so Sakura could dip in.
Inside was bright and warm, with chairs around a central table, the Hokage desk to the side, and bulbed fire lights hanging from the burlap ceiling. The table was large enough to fit 20. A creative twist on a fuinjutsu was placed on the tent, making the interior larger than it appeared to be from the outside.
The armies invented so many new techniques in the past four years—even this harmless expansion jutsu. New, stronger, more sly jutsu seemed to evolve daily; war accelerated both death and ingenuity. It made Sakura sick to admit she wouldn't be half the kunoichi she was if Madara hadn't appeared.
In a quarter of the time, he'd single-handedly propelled the shinobi world 15 years into the future.
It was the one thing that could make Sakura wish she were weaker. If it'd bring an end to this endless fighting, she'd sacrifice all the skill and power she'd gained over the past four years in a heartbeat.
Thirty or so shinobi were already inside the tent. Mainly those from Konoha Division, but a number from Suna Division and a few from Iwa. Two from Kiri. The diversity gave Sakura pause—it was rare for so many delegates from other Allied Divisions to attend the same last-minute debrief.
Sakura studied Tenten, whose face remained blank as Ino waved them over. They took their places beside her.
Throwing an arm around Sakura's shoulders, Ino leaned in, and in a whisper that was hardly a whisper asked, "What's this about, Forehead?"
"I don't know. I've been in base medical for the past two weeks." Her glowing green hands lifted to Tenten's chest. "I'm out of the loop when I rotate over there. You're clear, Tenten. You need a scan?" she asked, peering at Ino.
Ino scoffed, flipping her ponytail off her shoulder. "I can do my own scans, thanks."
"Suit yourself," Sakura intoned, adding an eye-roll for the woman's antics.
"If you're handing them out, I'll take one, Haruno."
"Same."
Others in the tent spoke up, and she obliged—roaming around the room, scanning those who asked. Her work was notoriously swift and accurate. There was really no harm in checking one's health status in the middle of a war, even if things had cooled off significantly over the past year.
Maruna wouldn't have drowned to death on her table if he'd had the same sense.
Most of those in attendance suffered only external injuries, mended in seconds. But one, the man from Kiri, had an interesting mental jutsu lingering about his mind.
Her green hands rose to the base of his skull. It, too, was unlike anything she'd seen before. Intellect reeling, she latched on to how the jutsu shifted through the man's consciousness and reduced it quickly to its parts.
Someone performed this jutsu without signage—two days ago. They'd concealed their chakra signature as it took effect. Straining to unlock what hand signs had formed it, Sakura's mind raced to meet the challenge, the familiar joy of solving a riddle rising within.
Dragon…Hare…Dragon...
"That's enough, Haruno," the man barked, jerking away as if shocked.
She'd only been hovering on his skull for a few seconds. With a slightly affronted look, she crossed her arms. He was the one who asked for a scan.
"Do you not want that removed?" she asked.
"No. It isn't harmful and it'll be removed shortly." He scrutinized her. "My apologies for my suddenness. I—didn't expect you to notice it...or start analyzing it."
Her sights narrowed. "It's my job to do these things, but it's fine."
Tsunade and Kakashi strode into the tent before the man could reply. Wordlessly ending their discussion with one last vague head-to-toe inspection of the man, Sakura returned to her place between Ino and Tenten.
She wanted to dissect that jutsu… Badly.
And just who was this man? What was he, a foreign delegate, doing with something like that inside Konoha base? Wasn't he a security threat?
Tumbling her memory for a name, her attention slid back to him. Had they met? She hadn't been to any Kiri-affiliated base in over a year, but he looked—familiar, maybe? Somewhat.
"Welcome, all. Thanks for being punctual." Tsunade threw Kakashi a pointed glare; he had the decency to appear apologetic. "This was a quickly called debrief, so my special thanks to the Kiri and Iwa Divisions' delegates for making the long trip. Shall we get started, then? Consider this meeting Classed Five and not to be spoken of with anyone outside this room unless cleared or within a future debrief."
Classed 5—highly classified.
What was going on? Sakura attended many highly classified debriefs. Yet, besides Ino, she didn't recognize most people in this room as those who'd typically be part of them.
Tenten's presence was suddenly a question. She was Classed 5, but only by the nature of her work as a gatherer. Tenten was seldom a part of large debriefs, as she would've already passed along any information to her handler. It was a handler's job to report vital intelligence up the chain of command, not a gatherer's.
And Tenten's handler was Ino. Ino caught Sakura's puzzled gaze, mirroring her cluelessness.
"First, I've called you all here today specifically because you have verified, recent reports on Orochimaru," said Tsunade.
The admission sunk into Sakura's mind like a static shock. No one had seen Orochimaru in close to three years. Last she heard, he'd been killed by—
Grimacing, she instantly left the thought.
"We know he's resurfaced. Does anyone have intel on an exact timeframe?"
Tenten stood. "A source confirmed that Orochimaru has been…around for about a year and a half. Exact dates are unknown."
"Over a year? Why are we only hearing about it now?"
"It does sound unbelievable, Hokage. The source was unable to provide anything more than rumors on that front. Madara's army seems to think Orochimaru was under a heavy jutsu that lasted over a year. They say he—" Tenten's face scrunched with skepticism. "Slept in the belly of a snake to recover. As for the rest of it, I verified the timeframe. He's been physically back for about eighteen months, but only recently—returned to the army, shall we say, in the last six."
Accepting Tsunade's nod of approval, Tenten sat down, raising a hand to swipe her bangs back into place.
As if on the other side of a seesaw, a woman from Suna rose. "Orochimaru travels with two other shinobi. Only Orochimaru walks about freely. The other two remain masked in Akatsuki gear, and it seems they've placed some kind of…taboo-jutsu on their names and qualities."
Some of the shinobi around the table leaned forward, hooked.
"How does the jutsu work?" probed Tsunade.
"I'm not sure. When I pressured the source he froze and forgot the question. It made no difference how many times I asked or how I phrased it."
That spurred Sakura's interest. A genjutsu, perhaps? One that continued working no matter how far the caster was—one that activated on specific knowledge?
How inventive…
Another Suna ninja stood. "It seems that while Orochimaru's back in Madara's good graces, he's not being posted to battle positions. Currently, he's housed in a lab nearest to Kiri."
"Any word on what particular assignments he's working on?" No one had an answer for the Hokage. After a pause, she added: "Any signs that an interest in Reanimation was revived along with him?"
Tenten fidgeted in her chair, then stood again. "It's believed that Reanimation is deemed completely unreliable by Madara. The information provided that another reanimation broke the jutsu seems to be true. I have no direct intelligence, but he likely doesn't want to risk reanimating someone who might break the jutsu and work against him."
There was a collective release of breath.
Reanimation pushed this war into the four-year-long terror it was. Without it, the Allies would've crushed the Zetsu army within six months. As it was, Kabuto and Orochimaru reanimated Madara and many others under orders from Tobi during that first battle. The Allies contained everyone but Madara, who managed to break the jutsu and return fully.
His resurrection caused a vast number of defections. People who thought there was no way to beat him, joined him; those rogues who remained out of the war suddenly had to pick a side or face annihilation. Madara's presence alone forced the whole world into full-scale war.
When the Uchiha patriarch fought, hell unleashed on earth.
The past year and a half was a relief. Enemy attacks lessened significantly after the loss of—
She left the thought.
There'd been no large-scale battles for over a year—but many viewed it as a calm before the storm, rather than the sun after rain. Madara was still around, after all. Smaller attacks still occurred.
Everyone needed to regroup sometimes, even Madara.
The debrief dragged on. Sources reported various points on Orochimaru. Significant, but nothing quite solid enough to be worthwhile.
He returned in a younger body. His chakra functioned at a lower level than when he disappeared. He seemed unable to leave the base where he was stationed. Some of his former experiments were recalled to base with him. He was resupplying heavily with items to build a lab, and dishing out high prices for the ingredients.
Several layers of high-class jutsu that hadn't been seen for two years deeply camouflaged the suspected lab. The same camouflage was emerging across enemy bases in Water Country, potentially flagging that the other side was revamping for battle.
It suddenly hit her how she knew the man from Kiri.
He was a talented gatherer. The woman next to him was his handler. Years ago, when she was still on Naruto's detail, Sakura met them at base medical in Kiri. He was the one who reported on Sasu—
She left the thought again.
It's a bad day today, she decided with a frown.
For months she'd managed to lock those rogue thoughts away. She'd been doing well... But talk of Orochimaru's revival seemed to dredge up another undesirable, best-left-forgotten ghost. The sort of ghost that could reduce her to a sobbing mess if she didn't carefully avoid him. With that worry, Sakura zoned out of the meeting until the Kiri man stood in the middle of someone else's report.
"Not to hijack the session, Hokage, but I've got a jutsu on me to deliver a message, and it feels like my head will split if I don't get on with it."
"Go on then," Tsunade ordered.
"Release."
Black ink vomited from the man's mouth, purging his system in a wet cough. Sakura watched, fascinated, as it flew toward the parchment in front of Tsunade. Others looked on with the same piqued inquisitiveness—hinting that it wasn't a standard gatherer jutsu. Her fingers itched to decipher it.
The Hokage examined the words forming on the paper, then slid it over for Kakashi to descry.
As Tsunade turned back to the Kiri gatherer, Sakura realized she still didn't know his name. No one was using names. Except to call her mentor Hokage, or to speak to her, none of the other shinobi addressed each other.
Well, she wasn't a gatherer, after all. Nor was she a handler. It wasn't strange that different rules would apply to her.
Though it was odd she was here in the first place, now that she thought about it. Sakura knew nothing about Orochimaru, wasn't formally part of the intelligence branch, and her recent orders kept her stationed in base. She had nothing to offer this particular debrief.
The meeting's topic was such tremendous intelligence, however, that she was grateful for whatever possessed the Hokage to call for her—and two new jutsu she could set on researching presented themselves. Perhaps that was the reason for her summons.
"Anything on his allegiance or motive?"
"No, Hokage. The source for that wasn't someone I'd had contact with before. He was—" The gatherer glanced to the Suna woman who spoke earlier. "Akatsuki masked and suppressing his chakra. My primary source indicated they thought the report was true, but I wasn't comfortable asking too many questions. He told me to deliver a message to the Hokage quickly, and I felt the jutsu placed on my mind. He said Orochimaru sent him. That's all. I contacted you directly after."
"Nothing else?"
"Nothing. He teleported away after that."
"Very well. You did well, good job. Does anyone else have word on Orochimaru's allegiance, verified or not?"
The room was quiet, though everyone buzzed with curiosity. Kakashi studied the paper before catching Sakura's eyes. When she cocked her brow at him in a question, it only seemed to puzzle him more.
"I'll be out with it then. Orochimaru is offering to turn." The room's occupants froze—the room, minus the man from Kiri. "If I hear this offer spoken of beyond this tent, you'll be immediately imprisoned. Consider this information to stake your life on. If word gets back to me that anyone outside this meeting learns of this, everyone will be subject to interrogation."
Tsunade allowed the threat to sink in, silence lingering after her words. Kakashi cast another wary peek at Sakura.
Ino stood. "That's all well and good, Hokage. But such an offer…it seems—ludicrous. Orochimaru vehemently opposed Konoha long before the war started and joined Tobi as soon as he could. He's the one who Reanimated all those shinobi in the first place. It makes no sense that he'd turn now. It'd be too risky to accept such an offer."
Bless this woman, Sakura praised. Ino had no filter and no sense not to speak her mind. Of course, Sakura largely agreed with what her friend said—she'd just never openly say such a thing.
"You're not wrong. I was hoping we'd have some intel on his motives," Tsunade admitted. "That we don't is, well, as you said, risky. What do others think of the offer?"
Several people jumped up to agree with Ino. It was risky. It made no sense. It was probably a trap.
An Iwa shinobi stood. "Forgive me, Hokage. But—the war…" He seemed to shift on his feet, squaring his shoulders to the table. "We're losing. We've been losing for years."
Tsunade's vision narrowed, but she made no move to disagree. Sakura quelled a growing quiver up her spine. Under the table, Ino's fingers found hers, wrapping them up in a tight grip.
This was a topic no one spoke of—no one dared even to think. Because to think would be to admit that—
Yes—
The Allies were losing.
"We don't know how to kill Madara. The war remains unwinnable so long as that eludes us." Briefly scanning the audience as if gauging their response, he went on—"If someone wants to turn, especially Orochimaru, it's an offer we can't refuse to at least look into, despite the risks. I understand Konoha's worry since he's a Fire nukenin, but if anyone knows how to do it, Orochimaru would."
He sat, his words creeping into the hushed group. One, then two, then many more stood and agreed with him. It was a chance of a lifetime. An offer they couldn't refuse. It would barely change the long-term outcome if it didn't pan out.
Tsunade regarded Ino. "Any response?"
"I'll support whatever is best for the army. I maintain that it's risky, without reason, and probably a trap, but it's true that we…have long been at a standstill. If the Hokage deems the opportunity too good to ignore, we should enact checks to protect against the potential consequences."
"Great. And the rest of you? All agreed?" There was a collective nod. "Very well. Remember my warning about this information." Tsunade skimmed those in attendance. "I will send every single one of you to Ibiki's layer if I hear even a whisper of this. Everyone dismissed. Konoha Division, stay."
The room cleared out until a dozen shinobi remained.
"Only kunoichi are required. The rest are dismissed." Slumping into her chair, Tsunade pulled a bottle out of nowhere.
Kakashi was absolutely pale. Sakura sent him a worried once-over as the men filed out.
"Everyone not Classed Seven is dismissed," the Hokage added.
Tenten gave them a small smile and left along with two others. Only Ino and Sakura remained before Tsunade and Kakashi, who now appeared half-faint.
"Do you need a scan, sensei?" asked Sakura.
"No, no…"
Tsunade skated the parchment across the table. Ino grabbed it hungrily as Sakura shifted to read it over her shoulder.
Information will be provided in exchange for full pardons, across all records, at the conclusion of the war.
No country shall claim ownership over the ninja involved.
No country shall require servitude of the ninja involved.
The contact must be from Konoha.
It must be a kunoichi.
She must be at least Classed 7.
She must be versed in healing.
In addition to contacting, she will be required to heal the ninja when requested.
She must have graduated Academy with the Nine Tails.
She and Ino glanced at one another. It was suspiciously specific. Looking to Kakashi next, a realization bloomed in Sakura as she deciphered the worry in his eye.
Only two people in the entire Allied army matched these requirements. And the Hokage had summoned them both to this meeting.
Orochimaru wanted Sakura, or he wanted Ino, or he wanted no one at all.
"That's that. The last line stands out, doesn't it?" Tsunade swigged whatever she'd conjured earlier. "At least a dozen others could fit the mold for this request without it."
"It's clearly a trap," Kakashi intoned.
"Clearly," Tsunade parroted. "The specifications make it obvious. But that Iwa twit was right. What other choice do we have?"
The Hokage scowled and mumbled a curse, debrief demeanor wholly fallen to the wayside. Though it scarcely mattered—everyone left in the tent already knew this was the real Tsunade.
Both her teachers' gazes fell on Sakura, who sat straighter under their scrutiny. It wasn't a complex puzzle to piece together, this request. It wanted someone specific, but it wouldn't spell the last word out—and they had to guess right the first time.
Sakura was thinking: It's probably me.
"It makes the most sense for me to go," she admitted quickly, so her voice wouldn't falter.
"No. We need you in medical," Ino cut in. "There's no replacing you, and we all know it. However, someone in the Yamanaka clan can train to take over my position. I should go."
Ino's expression was stony, and Sakura could see Tsunade weighing her reasoning. Sakura didn't want to throw her friend into it, though—there was an opportunity to save Ino from this likely trick, just like Ino was trying to save her.
"I'm better suited for this mission. It's a solo mission. Ino's powerful in teams and large groups but at a disadvantage when alone. Her specialization requires someone to protect her to be most effective." Ino bristled at her words, but Sakura pressed on: "She wouldn't be able to utilize her strengths in this situation. I'm trained mostly in solo combat and can tank high levels of damage if it comes to it. And—I have no bloodline or family jutsu that Orochimaru might be interested in experimenting with."
Ino twisted to face her, anger etched on her lips. "You aren't going, Sakura! You can't! It's a trap, Kakashi." She turned her force on him. "You cannot agree to send her."
The Hokage-to-be said nothing.
Tsunade rubbed her temple. "Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Ino."
"It should be difficult! This is insane. The army can't afford to lose Sakura, especially when you're incapable of being a field commander. Who else in the army can heal a battlefield? You've been unwilling to train anyone else to handle the Katsuyu summon, and no one's created anything remotely similar in effectiveness. The fact you're even asking her right now is absolutely absurd."
The air between them iced over. Tsunade's hand stilled on her head as she pinned her subordinate with a challenging stare.
Had there always been this tension between these two? Surely not...
"I know what you're doing here." Ino's voice dipped into a cavalier sneer—"You've brought her in with me to encourage her to volunteer. You never intended this to be a discussion. You hoped not to choose and placed the choice on Sakura herself. You're choosing to be a coward."
Sakura held her breath. That was as close to treasonous as she'd ever heard Ino get.
"You've never been so insubordinate, Yamanaka. I'll forgive it in context, but the ability to remove emotion from reasoning is essential to your approved Classed and required of Konoha's head linker." Tsunade glared; the temperature in the room dipped further. "And if you question my ability to battle or lead, we can arrange for it to be tested between us. Do not insult me in such a manner again."
Ino shook with rage. Sakura placed a placating hand on her friend's shoulder.
The Hokage looked exhausted, but there was no question that the woman was still one of the best one-on-one fighters in Konoha. In the world. More than likely the best in this room—though, perhaps not by miles anymore.
Tsunade was stronger from all the battles and strategizing, just like everyone else who'd survived this long. It wasn't the Sannin's first war...but it was her first in many, many years; the first one in which she held the Kage title and all the responsibility that came with it. And this war just dragged on, and on, and on—with no end in sight. No ground gained. No feasible strategy to win.
Everyone could see it: Her mentor wasn't the woman who'd entered this conflict. The Fourth Shinobi War sunk its poison into her, forcibly drawing out the kunoichi she'd buried years ago. The one she'd laid to rest after the Second War. The one she'd probably wished to never be again. Tsunade was sharper, now. Calculating. More shrewd. Less emotional. A hardened leader and—an even nastier drunk.
"It's okay, Ino. I'll go."
"You cannot."
Sakura offered her friend a smile. "It's not up to you, and I'm asking to go."
"Well, guess what?" Ino lifted her nose up in a disgusted way that Sakura knew was only a defense mechanism. "I'm asking to go as well. I believe I should be sent."
Tsunade examined the two women before turning to Kakashi. "Well?"
Sakura knew it was her. She knew. Ino seemed to know it, too. Orochimaru was asking for Sakura. Tsunade knew it but was putting on the charade of choice.
Did Kakashi know?
He stared at Sakura. He was the future Hokage—future Hokages had to make decisions in the army's best interest. Hokages must care more about the sum than its parts.
He must tell Sakura to accept the mission.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Kakashi closed his eyes. "You'll have to decide, Tsunade."
Sakura beamed softly—he couldn't do it. As a leader, he should; with Sakura, he couldn't. It was something that might kill him one day, but something she loved him for right now.
The war hadn't killed everything good in four years. Loyalty and love still remained, and that's what mattered.
It made no real difference in the end, though.
Tsunade downed another gulp of the bottle. "You'll have to work on that, Kakashi. Very well. Sakura, it's your mission. I'm—sorry." And it looked like she meant it. Tsunade was so distant in recent years that it was hard to get much emotion from her at all, but it seemed like she really meant it. Ino still released a loud scoff. "If I could send anyone else, anyone, I would. Ino's right, we need you. Our army needs both of you. But I have full faith that you'll survive—no doubt in that at all. That's the only reason I'm agreeing to send you, and I'll pull you just as soon as it proves too dangerous."
"I accept the mission, Hokage," Sakura answered, bowing her head in deference.
Clasping her hand with rivaling strength, Ino burned beside her. "This is a mistake, Tsunade. You're going to regret this."
No one contradicted her words. Sakura was...possibly being sent to die.
"Enough, Yamanaka. Sakura, Kakashi will be your handler. Ino can get you prepped on being a gatherer." A spy. "And... Be careful. If I lose another person, I think it'll be the end of me."
.
there's a DISCORD for this story, if anyone wants to join to chat about it,
or just wants to chat about sasusaku in general!
the invite code is: WV62DCrCqM
.
Please review and subscribe :) Thanks for reading.
This story is cross-posted on AO3 as well, if you prefer reading on that site.
.
Big thanks to Leech, the beta-reader for this story!
You can stalk them in the comments to find their work :)