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Covenant
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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?
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6. The Unknown
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KAKASHI CONSIDERED himself a very fine shinobi in most circumstances.
His jutsu repertoire was substantial. His mind was quick. His body was well-trained and experienced. Most importantly, he could place the value of Konoha above all else. Above his friends, his teammates, subordinates—even above his students...usually. And even though Konoha existed only through its army, Kakashi retained the utmost loyalty to his birthplace.
It made him a very fine shinobi, by all trade accounts.
But as he read the report, he realized that perhaps those traits didn't necessarily make him a fine man.
It was a comprehensive breakdown of the successful battle he'd been forbidden from entering. Shikamaru's plan was flawless. Ino and Santa's linking was impeccable. The gatherer team on Hidan had moved him away from the battlefield and contained him faster than anticipated, while Sakura and the rest of medical kept the death toll at a record low.
Most deaths came from two specific battalions: The ones dispatched to meet the flanking enemies. Nearly half of both those battalions were slaughtered—despite a three-to-one advantage in size—and the survivors were able to provide suspiciously little as to why.
Every other aspect of the battle had page-long details, copious reports, and conclusive opinions from the commanders already attached at the end.
There were just seven bullet points on the enemy's flanking squad and its general.
—700 enemy troops, shinobi almost entirely Kiri nukenin
—Snake summons present, source not determined
—Unknown general in command, Akatsuki masked and cloaked
—Chakra signature unidentified/concealed
—No nature release used or seen from the general
—Avoid close-range combat: genjutsu skill high; chokuto skill high; taijutsu skill high
—Taijutsu style indicates a high probability of Kumo or Konoha nukenin
Kakashi was a very fine shinobi, so it took him no more than a couple of seconds to make the connection he didn't want to make. And then it took him only a few seconds more to make the bigger connection—the one outside of this singular battle. The one he really, really didn't want to make. A connection that shouldn't have been possible because it should've been dead.
Although, by all Allied accounts until mere weeks ago, Orochimaru also should've been dead. Yet the Sannin was very much alive.
The connection couldn't be dug out once it rooted in his mind, even as he argued with reason against it. It made no sense at all. It contradicted the past eight years, juxtaposed his memories, and rejected all intelligence and logic. But it was there in the bullets, as dark as night. Begging the reader to look underneath the underneath.
And then Kakashi was very much not a fine man, because he still met Sakura that evening. He still pressed the teleport tag into his student's palm without a hint of warning. Still praised her commitment and loyalty and wished her luck.
He was not a fine man when Sakura smiled up at him with all the love and trust in the world, young and brunette, before porting away—and he held his tongue about the connection that she, most of all, would want to know.
He couldn't put her over Konoha. Couldn't place her above the Allies. Didn't think she'd value herself more than the army even if he wished to, especially if it involved what Kakashi thought now it might.
One day, he was certain he'd reflect on this sending off in deep regret.
But Kakashi just smiled back, knowing very well there was a high probability he was sending her right into the clutches of her Achilles heel.
And he let her go.
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One second, there was a pull at her navel and the feel of chakra being torn away in a transport. A proportionally large amount of the minimal active reserve she had left after running on a steady supply of low-dose soldier pills for days.
The next second, she was flat on her stomach, body pressed harshly into a sleeping mat. She gaped at scratched-out flowers on a stone wall, trying to find her bearings
There was pressure across her hips like someone was straddling her. Her arms were pinned behind her in one forceful grasp across her wrists. Black hair was in her periphery, tickling her temple. She strained against another hand, trying to look at her captor, who held her head down sideways on the ground with a rigid palm. Her jaw dug into the thin mat.
It was threatening, dangerous—so very close.
"Close your eyes," someone growled by her ear.
The voice—that voice; a sharp shiver shot down her spine into her lower abdomen, settling there like burning coal until her toes curled. Her mind was acutely aware of the firm body holding her down like prey, or like property—like she was claimed—she knew that voice—
"Close them," he ordered again.
...It wasn't the voice Sakura had thought she heard. The coal was dashed with water instantly, but the seal now burned on her neck with the unfollowed command. In the distraction, she hadn't felt it at all.
Obediently, she shut her eyes—her brain swamped with dopamine and endorphins. "You'll need to stop ordering me around. It isn't healthy."
"Keep them closed."
More hormones released when she did as instructed.
Sakura sighed, annoyed. "I'm serious. We need to figure something else out. It'll be a problem if my body becomes too accustomed to the hormone rush."
The hand on her head lifted away, lessening the pressure on her body. Although he still straddled her with her wrists in his grip, she could probably sneak a peek if she craned around quickly enough. She'd definitely seen dark hair and felt the bare hand holding her arms behind her.
She'd bet anything he was unmasked and disrobed.
As soon as she heard his unnaturally low voice, his existence swept through her like a chill. She'd nearly forgotten about him. In the chaos of battle, she had forgotten him—entirely.
The Source.
He released her. Sitting up and rubbing her wrists, she glared at the cat-masked man who now stood casually before her. He was buttoning an Akatsuki cloak; she spied the top of a toned, creamy chest before he latched the last button. His hands were ungloved, fingers long and thick like she remembered when they'd been around her neck to seal her.
"No more orders," she repeated, dropping the train of thought before it veered down strange tracks.
He adjusted the mask. "Why?"
"The loyalty pact. Anytime you order me around and I listen, the stupid seal releases hormones. I could become dependent or addicted. You may not care one way or another, but it won't be good for the agreement if I'm more worried about feeling good than fulfilling our terms." Didn't he know anything about the seal he requested they take? "Is your seal not working the same way?"
"No."
Well, his pact was different, so maybe that made sense...
"What does yours feel like then?"
The Source walked to the desk and sat down facing her. It was impossible to know where he was looking, even though the mask was turned in her direction. His eyes could be closed, for all she knew.
Leaning back against the wall, she folded her legs to the side, studying him. Testing the atmosphere in the hush. She felt much more at ease in his presence now that his information had proven true. After all, what would he gain by giving the Allies a win and then immediately betraying the contact? The motives were unclear, but the outcome remained positive.
His fingers drummed against the stone of the table. "There's no chakra in mine. The pact alone fuels it."
Huh. She focused on her seal and molded chakra around the concealed signature within it, searching for answers. It did seem that the chakra was linking—or rather, the juinjutsu was linking the chakra in the seal to the hormonal connectors in her brain.
"How does it fuel itself without my chakra in it?" she wondered aloud.
"You're late."
"Excuse me?"
"You came late," he enunciated. "You're to come as soon as you're called on."
She raised a brow at the haughtiness in his tone. "I had rounds to finish. There's hundreds of injured from the battle. I'm the ranking medic on that battle base, in case you weren't aware. The army needed me. By the way, it's rude to ignore someone's questions."
"I called for you three days ago."
"Well I only found out about it this morning, and I came as soon as I was free."
"Then you should've come in the morning."
"Wha—you say I should've—" Sakura swallowed back her next thought as the vein on her temple throbbed. "Listen. I'm tired, you know? Extremely tired. I could've slept before I came, but I didn't—I haven't slept more than a handful of hours since the battle ended. And instead of a thank you, I'm getting...what would you even call this? Reprimanded? Insulted? What the hell's with that? I just fought in a war, and thank you for the information, but the Allied army is more important than bending to your every beck and call!"
Huffing once, she eyed the man with disdain. "What was I late for anyway?"
"Who received the message Orochimaru sent?" he asked, ignoring everything she'd just rambled out.
She somehow managed to contain the foul expression begging for release. Whoever the Source was, she was sure they wouldn't get along. But for the sake of the agreement, she'd play as nice as she could.
"...My handler gets them, I guess. I don't know."
"Who's your handler?"
That was crossing a line. The Source may be an ally for the moment, but he wasn't privy to classified information.
Her sights narrowed. "How does your seal fuel itself?"
"Tell me who."
The seal ignited on her neck with the command. She flipped her long, brunette hair over her shoulder.
"No. Their identity is classified and irrelevant to our agreement. If you're unhappy with my timing, I'll mention it when I return." It wasn't painful, but her lack of cooperation wasn't nearly as pleasant as obeying. "Was there something specific I was needed for?"
He resumed the rhythmic tapping of his fingers in lieu of replying. They sat mute for so long after that Sakura started to think he was considering sending her away in payback for the supposed tardiness. Determined not to break the silence first, however, she sealed her lips and settled into a more comfortable position against the wall, blankly staring him down.
Eventually, it paid off. She won the game they'd unintentionally lapsed into.
"Tch. How long—"
Whatever he might've asked was cut off by a knock. Just as Sakura's gaze darted toward the sound, a puddle oozed under the crack of the door. She watched it swell and take shape with bated breath—the familiar fight or flight response birthing in her veins.
But the Source didn't react. And moments later, the water solidified into a second masked person.
"See? I told you she was fine," the newcomer said. Pointing his thumb at the Source, his wave mask swiveled in Sakura's direction. "This guy nearly whooped my ass as bad as you did when—" He made that gasping noise again, like all the air was being sucked from his lungs.
The action stirred her memory—it was the man who'd escorted her into this base. The one who'd found her in the battle.
"Leave," the Source ordered, releasing whatever jutsu he'd used at the end of his sentence.
Wave mask recovered from his coughing quickly. "Ugh, so touchy—and it's weird you learned that dumb trick from Madara. But whatever. I just came for healing, I'll leave after…and give you two alone time."
He walked towards Sakura, who pushed herself onto her knees and off the mat to make room for him. The Source was in front of her the next moment, back to her. Between herself and the newcomer. Water Man. There wasn't anything else Sakura could ascribe to him.
The Source crossed his arms. "Find it elsewhere."
"C'mon, sharing's caring. The agreement was she'd heal all of us. That means she isn't only for you."
Chakra flared; though it remained concealed, the power was palpable. So much so that every muscle in her body froze—as if she were back in the Forest of Death, facing Orochimaru again.
"I...don't mind," Sakura said shakily, trying to diffuse the strange situation.
"Yeah, relax." Apparently unperturbed by the threat, Water Man chuckled. "She doesn't mind."
The Source's chakra didn't subside. Water Man raised his hands in appeasement as he snuck by, turning his body so his back never faced the Source. Before he could pass, the Source grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the floor mat.
"Tomorrow."
The body part in the Source's grasp liquified, and Water Man backed away.
"Fine, fine, tomorrow. I get it. Like I said, so touchy. You really make this too easy, bossman."
Bossman.
It suddenly clicked. Now that Sakura could fully remember both men at the same time, it was so obvious. Water Man clearly followed the Source, as did Orochimaru—and the Source was the only seemingly new power in the war besides those two.
He was most likely the third general. The Unknown.
Who else could it be?
The Allies had extensive gathering networks. That there was an unknown general, of all things, was unheard of. It had to be this man before her, who ordered those around him without question and who faded from her mind when he wasn't near.
...Should she confront him on the matter? Would he even confirm it if she was right?
She'd already noticed that he didn't like answering questions. What if—
"Hey, you look like you're planning something." Water Man leaned into the wall, resting his head on it. "Ahh, it's been so boring since we got back. Make sure whatever you're plotting really stirs shit up! Get some entertainment around here, finally."
Sakura cocked her brow. "Back from where?"
"Remain here," the Source replied instead. Striding toward the exit, he nodded for his companion to follow. "The door will be sealed so no one else can enter."
Her seal hummed—Rest.
"W-wait!" she stuttered. The Source glanced over his shoulder. "Is there some way to remove…whatever jutsu is concealing you two?"
"No." He resumed his march to the door.
"I don't—I didn't mean your chakra," Sakura tried again. His feet stilled. "I mean when you two leave, I can barely remember you. It makes it…difficult when I'm alone to remember what I'm doing here, or what my objectives are." A white lie. She remembered as if it were Orochimaru and always remembered her objective—but it was inconvenient to constantly forget her real allies. "I promise not to compromise you two. There's no benefit in me disclosing you exist. I should remember who I'm working with even when you aren't right in front of me, though."
"She's got a point," Water Man quietly agreed. The Source pulled the door open and exited with Water Man on his heels. "See ya, kid! Sleep well!"
There was a scoff from behind him, and the door slammed shut.
Her mind raced with the new information. The Source had to be Unknown.
And he'd called for her immediately after the battle—was he wounded? Had she missed any signs of injury during their brief conversation? Water Man said he needed healing, so it was possible. Her brain was fuzzy with exhaustion and her eyes weren't as sharp as they usually were. He could've been hurt without her noticing.
The Source had proven invaluable to the Allies with his first information leak. She must keep him healthy. He was too important to leave injured... She shouldn't have let him leave without a scan.
For now, though, he wasn't here to heal anymore. There wasn't any way to call him back, either—so she hushed her thoughts, slid under the thin sheet, and curled up on the sleeping mat.
If Sakura wasn't so exhausted, she might wonder why he left her in the room when she'd only just arrived. He hadn't mentioned plans to tend to nor provided any information per the agreement. But she was exhausted, and there was nothing to do in this room but sleep.
There were thick layers of genjutsu beyond the door. No noticeable chakra signatures were nearby. Regardless, it had to be somewhat safe in his room, since the Source would gain no advantage from letting her be captured within it.
With those justifications settling her nerves, just like that first night and against all common sense—Sakura drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
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"It's a leap," said Shikamaru. "It could apply to any number of people."
Kakashi leaned back in his chair. The impromptu Kage Tent on the outskirts of the battle base was dark and sparsely furnished save for a central table. Seven people fanned out in the room as they pleased. Tsunade sat beside him, her feet on the table. A flask hidden beneath the ledge.
"Literally anyone." Temari flicked something across the table. "Everyone still alive and of high rank is advanced in combat skill. Without any nature releases to analyze, it's impossible to pin it down."
"And the snakes?"
"Kakashi, c'mon. Lots of people have snake summons. Even Sai can summon those creepy snake drawings," countered Ino.
"Are you sure you aren't just seeing what you want to see?" Chojuro asked. The man sat directly in front of Kakashi, avoiding the elder's eyes as the sentence left his lips.
Kakashi let the words turn in his mind. It wasn't a bad question, but...
"It could be possible... But this isn't something I want to see at all."
The other three Konoha shinobi heard the unspoken, I don't want to watch him fall any further, that trailed Kakashi's admission.
"Don't speak on things you know nothing about, Chojuro," Ino snapped.
The Kiri man mumbled an apology.
Omoi nodded at Shikamaru and Ino, who stood beside one another near the tent's exit. "Those two would have the most info on the flank battle. If they doubt it's him…"
"That's true. Do any Kumo nukenin match these descriptions?" questioned Tsunade.
"There are plenty who it might be based on these specific outlines alone, but..." The group seemed to lean in, engrossed. Omoi pulled out the lollipop he'd been sucking on. "Well, I think we might be missing the forest for the trees."
Kakashi nodded. "Exactly."
Omoi nodded along, too. "Yeah, because that third general took out a huge portion of our numbers by himself, allegedly without any intel on his nature releases, right? The only logical assumption from those two facts is that the general chose not to use ninjutsu. So he did all that using taijutsu, a sword, and genjutsu alone. Against two thousand...by choice? And successfully? I can't name a single Kumo shinobi who could pull that off except the Raikage and Killer B."
The Kumo shinobi's explanation ruminated through the room. Tsunade hummed. As cogs turned in directions no one wanted, the air grew stifled and tense.
Chojuro broke the silence. "Is that something he could do?"
It was an insane feat to defeat so many with such methods. Impossible for the average, or even most high-ranked, shinobi. Team Ten, Kakashi, and the Hokage shared a look.
Closing his eyes, Kakashi willed his brain to slow down. The more he thought about the problem, the more confident he became. He was certain the others were drawing the same conclusion right now.
The trees were a quiet distraction, but the answer was screamed in the forest.
"It's not inconceivable," Shikamaru finally answered.
"Well, fuck," whispered Temari.
"It's not certain yet. We'll investigate more. In the meantime, don't let this idea get out in the army. It could be demoralizing."
"Demoralizing is an understatement, Hokage. If that man is back, and stronger, we've got a huge problem on our hands... I'll need to report this back to Gaara as soon as possible. Please arrange a Kage meeting within the next two weeks." Standing from the table, Temari pulled her fan over her shoulders. "Even if you don't want this getting out, we must prepare our troops for the possibility. We can't risk them meeting him blind again."
Chojiro and Omoi were similarly packing themselves for travel, a nervous twitch to their movements. This wasn't information to sit on.
"I'll arrange it. And no one is to tell Naruto or Sakura about this," warned Tsunade. She leveled her gaze on Omoi. "Let the Raikage know he'll need to keep it from B then, too."
"Yes, Hokage. I also should report this immediately, so I'll take my leave."
"The Mizukage would want to discuss this quickly. Even sooner than two weeks, if possible. Please send word with the meeting date," said Chojiro.
Both men bowed to the Hokage before stepping out of the tent. Temari moved towards the opening, stopping briefly to whisper something to Shikamaru.
She glanced back at the table. "I'll tell Gaara you've said don't tell Team Seven, but I already know he'll say they should both know."
"I know. See to it that the Kazekage keeps his mouth shut anyway."
"Yes, Hokage." Planting a hard kiss on Shikamaru's mouth, Temari smirked. "See you later."
"Come to the table, you two," Kakashi prompted, motioning for Team Ten to sit. Ignoring the moment just shared between the couple.
"There's more?" Tsunade intuited.
Ino and Shikamaru walked to the empty seats closest to them. Shikamaru's cheeks were dusted red as Ino pinched him playfully. In these small moments, Kakashi was reminded that life still existed outside of war. Even here, in the middle of it, love and friendship remained. Unbreakable bonds.
Things the Kage swore were detrimental to the war effort.
And maybe they were right. What happened to the unbreakable bonds of a dead person? What was the one left living with half a bond supposed to do?
Was it better to die or better to preserve?
"There is more. And Yamanaka, you'll need to keep your head," warned Kakashi. The woman was on thin ice, and he prayed she didn't do anything to risk Tsunade transferring her off Konoha base. "I'm in no mood for your theatrics."
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Sakura awoke, and the room was dark but for a small, dim light on the stone table.
It was quiet. Calm. She felt at ease, despite the circumstances.
Her body showed clear signs of recent exhaustion. Her back and arms were sore, active chakra reserves low but fresh, and her legs were stiff from a sleeping position held too long.
And someone was lying on the ground near her, breathing slowly. She stilled her movements to not alert the person, though the seal at her neck thrummed with a warmth that made her certain it was the Source.
The seal was problematic. A nice, warm feeling filled her when he was near, sure—but that was the problem. It was as if it encouraged closeness. She sculpted some chakra into a protective cover around the seal in her pathways, which seemed to ward off the effects slightly.
This covenant was placed deep, however. No amount of barriers rendered it completely ineffective. Eventually, the seal would need to be removed—when the agreement was no longer needed. If the war ended.
...When the war ended.
Quietly as she could, Sakura flipped over to examine him.
The Source was on a new mat placed halfway across the room. Still dressed in the Akatsuki mask and robe, he slept rigidly on his back like he was laid in a coffin, fingers neatly crossed across his stomach. His head had fallen to the side, facing her.
She ran her eyes up the length of him. With his clothes pressed down against him like that, the well-toned body underneath was evident. Her mind briefly strayed to him on top of her, pressing her down... Covering her back with his chest... Clutching both her wrists in one hand...
Heat pulsed on her neck. The atmosphere was quite pleasant. As if the seal was promising, It's safe. You're safe here.
Ultimately, she needed to figure out how his covenant worked and take advantage of it. Find out a way to exploit whatever connection he'd placed upon himself.
If he was sleeping in the same room as her like this, totally vulnerable, then clearly he felt some of the same effects she did. No shinobi in their right mind fell asleep in the presence of another shinobi unless they trusted them, or they were morons, or they were under the effects of a jutsu. And the Source certainly didn't trust her, nor did she think him a moron.
But first, she wanted to find some way to identify who he—
My linking medical jutsu.
Her breath caught on the thought. The Source would surely wake up if she tried to move and unmask him, but what if she connected to his central nervous system while he was laid still? It'd provide her an untold amount of clues. Any recent injuries, the nature of his chakra system, long-term damage from combat, what dojutsu Orochimaru had gifted him…
...It might be a complete breach of trust.
But her true loyalty was to Konoha and the Allied army, not to him. She may have risked her life coming here to help him cross his own side, but that was wholly for the benefit of the Allies. She wouldn't even remember he existed after a few days away from him, so what did it matter anyway?
Really, wasn't she owed this? They'd lured her into the agreement with the requirements and hooked her with this seal. She at least deserved to know who was the man tied to her.
Even so, Sakura hated the way it tasted of small betrayal…
As she was busy debating with herself—he moved.
Her whole body tensed. Staying still as a statue, she regulated her breathing. His breathing still sounded of sleep. Minutes ticked past; she was careful not to even think too hard lest the seal do something unknown and alert him.
To hell with it, she finally decided.
The Allies needed to know the Source's identity, especially if he truly was the Unknown. Even if he wasn't, the agreement still called for pardoning his crimes, and Sakura was sure the Kage would want to look into those sooner than later. Steeling herself, she started moving her hands swiftly through the signs.
Fingers ending in Serpent, the man's system fell upon her like sensory overload.
She pressed it back away from her own, careful not to let herself fall entirely into the connection. Her body responded to his condition, feeling his injuries ghost into her flesh and bones.
He was hurt. Poisons were warded off inside him in different locations. His left leg had been run through by a blade. There were several broken bones, bruised organs, and severe burn damage across the nerves of his left hand, stemming from his palm and branching up his forearm like spiderwebs, or like—
Lightning.
And then, like a pile of boxes she hadn't meant to tumble, it all fell upon her at once.
There—signs of a removed curse seal at the conjunction of his neck and shoulder. And there—in his eyes, a dojutsu in the left one showed significant corrosion and an unfamiliar chakra signature—but in the right—
In the right one, right there, bright as day: The same damage as Kakashi's sharingan.
But less extreme. Acute damage. Damage that indicated a body not averse to its use.
Built for its use, in fact.
With a gasp, she released the jutsu.
A body was hovering over her before she could take a breath, pressing her shoulders down to the floor with an arm across her chest. Fingers of another hand wrapped around her neck. Her seal throbbed just underneath the edge of his hand.
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"What theatrics?"
Shikamaru scoffed.
Kakashi ignored Ino. "Sakura's being fed information by someone other than Orochimaru."
"...What?" Tsunade seethed. "And you didn't report it sooner?"
"She asked me not to disclose it. We had another conversation before she went to gather last night, and she didn't seem worried or frightened. I felt, for the time being, that it was fine to comply with her request."
"That's not her decision to make, Kakashi!" said Ino in muted anger. "Who is it?!"
"I…don't know. She couldn't tell me. Most likely one or both of the masked attendants of Orochimaru. It's clear that Orochimaru isn't the main contact, however."
Shikamaru rested his chin in his palm. He'd been briefed that Orochimaru was back, but the rest was new information. He watched Ino lean forward in her chair, hands gripping the table's edge.
Not good.
"I'm going to kill you, Kakashi. I told you it was a fucking trap. I told you, and you still didn't choose me when Tsunade told you to pick. I swear to God if she dies—I promise—"
"Ino." Reaching over, Shikamaru wrapped a hand around her arm. "Enough."
He and Ino were separated for this exact reason. She was impossibly protective and without restraint. Any inkling that someone she held dear was in danger and she absolutely lost it. Ever since Choji died, she'd been slightly unhinged—barely concealing the consistent risk of a mental break.
"Shika, I swear to fucking—"
"Shut up!" Tsunade ordered. "If you can't control yourself, leave the tent, Yamanaka. This is your only warning. If you can't have a conversation without flying off the wall then we may need to discuss your permanent base transfer!"
"She's fine, Hokage. You know she just talks to vent. She doesn't mean it seriously," said Shikamaru. The last thing Ino needed was to be separated from Sakura, too.
Shikamaru's hand squeezed painfully into her skin. Ino's mouth snapped shut. Whole body shaking with unsaid words, her eyes narrowed in contempt at the Hokage.
Tsunade ran a hand across her face. "You have limited time to explain yourself Kakashi, because I'm sharing Ino's sentiments. It was against protocol to not report additional sources, especially when we have such little control over her safety when she's ported into that base."
"There isn't much else to explain. I didn't report because Sakura asked me not to, and that…may have been a mistake." He considered disclosing the seal but quickly decided against it. He'd gotten far in life by reading the room. The current room was not the place to share any more secrets. "Despite this new information, I still have faith in her abilities. Sakura's one of the strongest shinobi in our army. She's more than capable of handling herself and smart enough that if she were in danger, she wouldn't ask me to withhold information. Have some confidence in your student, Hokage."
"I have confidence in her, but that doesn't mean we abandon all precautions. I thought you, of all people, would remember that. You're always leaving the hard decisions to others, and I've told you a hundred times you need to work on that," Tsunade scolded. "In this case, you allowed your gatherer to dictate something that was your responsibility as a handler. You've placed your student in a perilous position because of your emotional attachment to her."
Nodding, Kakashi conceded, "You're right. I should've reported this sooner."
Although he knew only half of what the conversation was about, Shikamaru picked out enough to ask, "So why are you choosing to report it now?"
Kakashi took a long breath. Tsunade might actually kill him after this.
"Well... I'm reasonably confident that one of Orochimaru's attendants is—" How was the best way to phrase it? "The third general. Unknown."
A kunai sunk into his shoulder. Ino was on her feet, face red as flame and hand out in a throwing form.
"You sent Sakura to him?!" she shouted.
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The hand on her neck tightened. Sakura laid perfectly still, not bothering to throw the man off, though she probably could with her strength. He was half on top of her, bearing down upon her. Cat mask a foot away from her face.
If he wanted to harm her, he would. He could, and there wasn't much use in fighting it. She could drag any fight out, certainly. It would be a long brawl if she made it so—she'd make him earn her death if he tried. It wouldn't be easy for him.
But it was entirely possible. This man, of anyone, was perfectly capable of killing her if he decided to.
"...Sasuke?"
Seal burning hot, his masked chakra flared at the name.
It had to be him. No one else used chidori. No one else was known to have the sharingan and a removed curse seal.
It had to be—"You…you died, though. You're supposed to be—I thought you were dead...!"
The fingers around her neck were on the verge of closing off her airway. They loosened slightly. Then he removed himself from her abruptly, falling back to his own mat and facing away.
Sakura remained on her back, staring at the ceiling. Brain dragging through mud.
It had to be Sasuke.
She was in a room with Sasuke.
Sasuke, who was supposed to be dead. Who was supposed to be a traitor. Who'd turned against Konoha eight years ago.
Who was…here, betraying Madara?
It made no sense. It made no sense.
It makes no sense! her mind screamed; then at herself—And don't you dare cry!
...Don't cry, the seal hummed back,
Head falling to the side in a daze, she observed his back. She'd seen it a number of times over their limited interactions within the agreement—but it looked different in every way now that she knew who it belonged to.
That realization brought a wave of emotions she wasn't prepared for. A reminder of how uniquely dangerous this man was for her psyche.
All the feelings she'd dammed away for years were threatening to break free and drown her. The anger, the sorrow, the despair, the desolation. Years of betrayal—of war and death. The constant bombardment of intelligence that painted her ex-teammate as a ruthless, immoral nukenin.
But tucked away within it all was innocence. There is Sasuke, a 5-year-old boy, eating a rice ball over a railing.
Excitement. He's 8, arguing with Naruto, beating him in a duel in front of the whole class.
Joy. Their names are read off together at team pairing.
Hope. A 12-year-old Sasuke reminds her he knows she's the smartest on the squad.
Loyalty. She begs him at 13 to let her betray Konoha with him.
Acceptance. Her kunai freezes behind his 15-year-old back—she can't do it.
And love. So much love. How could she have locked this away? It was enough to kill her.
Sakura wanted so badly to see him. Wanted to lift away the mask and cloak and stare into his eyes, his face, across his body. How much had he changed? How did he appear outside of battle?
What did he look like at 20, in a dark room, just the two of them?
How could she remain alone with him, drowning?
...Was it truly him?
Could he please, please come back?
She hesitated. "Is it you, Sasuke?"
To her surprise, he replied with a steady, "Yes."
"Why—why didn't you tell me?"
"There was no reason to."
"I don't understand. I don't—" Sakura clamped down on a sob that wanted out, but she felt like her time was limited. He was opening the door a little, and as soon as she let silence in, he'd slam it shut. "You died."
"I didn't."
"Then where have you been?!"
She heard a long sigh as he turned to face her again. He sat cross-legged on the mat, masked head resting in his palm as if bored.
"I'll say this once, Sakura," he started, and her breath left her body. She hadn't heard him say her name in ages. "My identity's of no concern. My loyalty lies with the agreement. You are merely a contact, nothing more. We aren't teammates again. We aren't friends. We're nothing, as we always have been, and as it will always remain."
...She'd forgotten just how cruel he could be.
"You're not entitled to answers from me nor in any position to demand them. I've come to agree that the Allies should win this war, and I've decided to help them as it's clear they need it. That's all you need to know. Continue this pathetic display of emotion and I'll assume you can't fulfill your role as a gatherer. I'll just request a new contact be sent immediately."
"I haven't—I'm not…emotional..."
He scoffed. "It's written all over you. It's painfully obvious, and it's exactly why I kept hiding my identity. Nothing about the situation has changed from yesterday except your ability to do the job. It won't be good for the agreement if the contact is more worried about their feelings than fulfilling our terms," he snapped, throwing her words from their last conversation back at her.
She hadn't heard him speak so much at once since they were genin. They were harsh words. The Sakura of four years ago might've cried and ported out, or shouted and been sent away.
But the Sakura she was in this moment, War Sakura, thought they sounded...too harsh. Too logical. They didn't match him, sitting there with a bored posture, making no move to force her out. They delivered like words meant to put her into a particular place. To push her away.
Like the words one who knew they were dying yelled at a teammate or friend in battle. Get the hell out of here—or, Go on and leave, you're making things worse—or, I don't need you waiting for me. Harsh words to fend someone away from more pain; to make someone turn away.
Maybe even words like, You really are annoying.
Cruel words that didn't necessarily come from a cruel place.
It was true that Sakura felt emotional, but war had taught her to think through her emotions. To look underneath the underneath, even when her heart wanted to spiral.
Sakura knew Sasuke. She did. Even after years apart, Sakura knew Sasuke in the way she had since they were teammates. An understanding born out of bonds that hadn't ever been severed, for her. No matter what he'd done or the man he'd become—the boy she'd known was still part of him.
If he really meant what he was saying, he would've sent her away as soon as he knew her identity. He surely would've sent her away as soon as she found his out just now.
Sasuke was a genius.
It didn't take a genius to know that keeping Sakura—of all people—as the contact was more of a liability to Sasuke in particular than any other shinobi who might come to fill the role after her. It wasn't that Naruto and Kakashi would come to retrieve her. It wasn't that Tsunade might send all of Konoha to save her beloved student, or that the Allies would lose their top medic.
Sakura was once deeply in love with Sasuke, and they both knew it. That was the biggest liability that could ever exist in a gatherer.
If he truly meant anything he'd just barked at her, then genius Sasuke Uchiha who didn't want her to know his identity wouldn't have fallen asleep so carelessly next to medical master Sakura Haruno.
Or—maybe she was merely seeing what she wanted to see. She wanted Sasuke to push her away because of something, not because he just wanted to push her away. Maybe she was reading it all wrong.
Maybe.
And although she loved this man, she'd never betray her friends and allies for him as she'd offered years ago. She still wished Sasuke would see the light and return to her and Naruto, but what mattered at this moment was beating Madara. There was no time for any other objectives.
Sasuke felt the need to forcibly erect more boundaries between them that, for whatever reason, he thought six years of betrayal and two years of complete silence had yet to achieve. From how her heart ached, it was embarrassingly likely he was right in that assumption. And—War Sakura would allow him to do it.
He could build as tall and as thick a wall as he wanted. She wouldn't put up a fight, and she wouldn't let herself think too hard about why he didn't just make her leave.
He was betraying Madara for the Allies. For the side that Konoha fought for. It was more than she could've ever hoped for. If it meant he continued with this redemption and helped them win, she'd let him push her across the continent.
"Do we have an agreement or not?" His voice was flat, no longer concealed. Pitched low and angry.
She tried not to focus on how nice it sounded—on its change compared to when he was a teenager.
"You...talk a lot more now."
"I'm not playing that game with you," he warned. "Do we have an agreement or will you get me a new contact?"
"We had an agreement when I took the covenant... I'm sealed with our agreement. Nothing has changed, as you said, so yes, we have an agreement."
They stared at one another, calculating. Her gaze held a promise, and though she couldn't see it, his felt like it held condemnation.
"You'll act as a kunoichi ordered to gather and heal."
Sakura nodded slowly. "Yes."
"No questions, no conversations, no attempts to bring me back."
"Yes, okay."
"You and I are nothing, you understand? Strangers."
It hurt, but she would give this to him. "Of course. I get it."
There was a pause as Sakura sensed his eyes scanning her body. She was in her transformation, looking like an unknown but beautiful teenage girl.
The seal pulsed, and a single word, Strange, floated into her mind.
She glanced down at herself, curious if it was her own thought. She did think herself strange like this, but...
Tugging her mind back into the present, she asked, "I assume you want me to keep your identity a secret from my handler?"
"Is it Tsunade?" He was still trying to figure that out.
"No."
"Mm. It doesn't matter."
Her brow shot up, puzzled. "Okay then..."
She wanted to ask why he'd gone through such trouble concealing his identity if it didn't matter now. But—no conversations. Since she was studying him so closely, it was apparent when he shifted off his left side like it was holding too much pressure.
Damn. I forgot he's injured. Sakura pushed herself off the mat and moved towards him with green hands.
She wanted to touch him, anyway. The longing was almost unbearable. How on earth she was going to manage this charade of uncaring for any prolonged amount of time was beyond her. She'd find a way, though.
For him, she could do that. For the Allies and Naruto's safety, she could do anything.
"You're injured. Let me heal you."
Sasuke froze for a moment before he lowered himself onto the mat.
Good. At least he wasn't arguing over healing.
Hands hovered above his chest, she got to work mending his body. Along with fresher injuries, there were old wounds plainly unhealed from the battle. She nearly scolded him for not finding a medic sooner before remembering that he'd called for her days ago.
Still, he should've had her heal him as soon as she arrived.
"...I heal Kakashi's eye, you know. I could take a look at—"
"No."
"The left one has some significant damage."
"Time heals all."
She snorted in genuine surprise. "I didn't take you for a philosopher, Sasuke."
At that, he closed off to her, and silence fell upon the room as she worked. When she finished, she shifted back onto her sleeping mat. Well—the mat she used. It wasn't hers.
Now that she knew who he was, the quiet between them was significantly more uncomfortable.
She wasn't going back to sleep, and from the sound of Sasuke's breathing, neither was he. Sakura wanted more than anything to talk to him. Wanted to know what had changed about him, where he'd gone, what his motives were now, if he was coming back when it was over.
There was so much she wanted to ask. So much distance and time between them. Too much for this small of a space.
It felt like a dream.
She was in a room with Sasuke Uchiha.
They were both lying down in the dark. He'd spoken more than three sentences to her and hadn't tried to kill her after that. Sakura tried not to stay too long on the fact that she'd just inadvertently considered it dreamy that a man wouldn't attempt murder.
Something in her along the way had seriously twisted up, she thought. Although considering the other party, it wasn't an outlandish thing to be pleasantly surprised over.
Sasuke was so close she just had to reach out to touch him—but she couldn't. Sasuke would send her away. And she couldn't ask all the things pressing down on her for the same reason. She couldn't lay there restless either, though. Her throat ached to speak with all her thoughts.
Unsure what else to do, she asked, "Do you have the information for me, then?"
After some seconds, Sasuke hauled himself off the floor, sat at the desk, and started writing under the lamp. The scene to any outside observer had to look so…domesticated. A woman—a girl—laid on a sleeping mat, staring at a broad-shouldered man scribbling under fluorescent light, the room dim and hushed.
Sakura tried to smother the budding blush. This could've been the start of one of Kakashi's novels.
What on earth am I thinking…? Her mind was in complete shambles. Maybe it was some slight form of shock.
Staring at the floor, she willed the peculiar thought away. This was going to be hard—but she could do it.
Love wasn't always about holding someone close. Sometimes, it was about letting them go. She could push herself away for this. For him. For Naruto. For the Allies. For the success of the war—she would give him space if he wanted that from her.
A scroll appeared in front of her eyes.
Her gaze slid back up to him. The mask was still there, and his cloak was still on, and there was nothing in the world to indicate that the man before her was Sasuke Uchiha except for her own knowledge. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could hear it. His fingers were long, wrapped around the scroll like that. And there was no one else but the two of them here—
Sakura left the thought, taking the offered scroll.
"You're dismissed. Go," Sasuke commanded. He paused before adding a stilted—"If you want."
As if she had a choice. He'd activated the jutsu already.
The pull of an incoming port tugged on her navel. Glancing down, she spotted a tag on the scroll with coordinates back to the Allies hastily scribbled.
She'd never given those to him.
.
.
Sakura heard the shouting before the room came into focus.
There were four bodies, pairs separated by a table. A blond one was being restrained by a black-haired one, and there—
Was Tsunade, feet propped up on the table, face absolutely furious. And Kakashi, bleeding, a crimson kunai in his hand. Ino was screaming over Shikamaru, who was telling her to calm down.
In an instant, Sakura was next to Kakashi, healing hand over the wound in his shoulder. The shouting stopped immediately. Someone slammed into her, ripping her from her teacher and wrapping her up in an embrace that smelled of lilac.
Ino was crying. Her hug was tight, and Sakura patted the woman on the back, confused.
Looking to Shikamaru for help, she asked, "What's happening?"
"Yamanaka attacked a superior," Tsunade answered, voice all controlled anger.
"Ino...!"
"Leave it be, Tsunade. I'm fine. It wasn't aimed for serious damage," said Kakashi. "Sakura, welcome back. I'm happy to see you." He placed a warm hand on her arm.
Ino pulled away and wiped her nose. She surveyed Sakura as if examining her for injury. Sakura let the transformation fall so the other woman could ease her worries.
"...Someone tell me what's going on. Why are you all here?"
"We were having a heated discussion about battle strategy," Shikamaru replied, taking a seat.
The air was tense. Tsunade glared daggers at Ino, who sent them back. Tapping the kunai on the table, Kakashi examined her in the same manner Ino had. Shikamaru's This is a Drag expression plastered across his face was the only normal thing in the room.
Sakura logged the strangeness to examine later. For now, she had a job.
"I don't mean to interrupt, but I need to report. As soon as possible. If it's fine to do here…"
"Everyone here is Classed. Report," the Hokage ordered.
Opening the scroll she'd been given, she let the information settle into her mind, then performed the seals to release it. Ink shot from her mouth onto the empty, bottom portion of the scroll.
Shikamaru's eyes widened. All five shinobi leaned in to examine it.
"Coordinates," Shikamaru deduced.
There were twelve of them. And underneath—
Investigate locations for rooms with carved walls.
Destroy the room using the opposite release used to enter.
"What does this mean? How is this helpful?" asked Ino.
"These coordinates are spread wide. Across the whole continent and Water Country. We'll need to enlist help from other bases," Kakashi pointed out.
Tsunade hummed. "Yes, we'll need help. But we'll check one or two ourselves first to see if it's a trap and what this note means."
Glancing between the other four shinobi, Shikamaru asked, "Who did this information come from…?"
She hesitated, waiting for Kakashi to grant permission. Since it involved her mission, only her handler could authorize such a release. Her sensei caught her eye and nodded.
Well, Sasuke had said it didn't matter if she revealed his identity, and she had no personal gain in keeping it a secret. These were the people who'd need to know for strategy, anyway, so…
"This came from—" With a start, Sakura realized she hadn't forgotten him this time... He'd removed the concealing jutsu. "Sasuke Uchiha."
You'll notice this chapter has multiple POVs and is unlike literally any other chapter in the story...
that's because this is the last chapter I wrote before I hard-settled on Sakura-POV only!
But I had already posted it and liked it enough to want to keep it anyway...
Soo... Yikes, ah well. Enjoy the misstep, but don't expect it again :P
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big thanks to the great beta-reader Leech!