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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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14. The Insurance
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INO WAS to remain permanently stationed in Iwa for the foreseeable future.
Not because of the contract, Tsunade claimed. Only because Iwa Division lacked a central intelligence structure for large-scale battles. Konoha could train up other Yamanaka clan members, but Ino could handle an army-wide link independently. Her transfer allowed Konoha to lose only one shinobi while providing Iwa what essentially amounted to an entire intelligence unit.
The move was a considerable loss on Konoha Division's part. Tsunade insisted it wasn't, though, since the Allies were moving forward as a single body without formal divisions at all.
And since the armies were integrating, skill was necessarily shuffling between bases where needed. Sakura was going to Kumo, C to Iwa, Shikamaru would return to Konoha. Even Temari had orders for Kiri. The list of top-ranking shinobi transfers in the next two weeks was nearly seven pages long.
For the second time, Tsunade insisted that separation contracts had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all; despite almost every name listed in the transfers being subject to at least one.
The policy had that kind of unintended effect. The higher ranked one was, the more one's emotional attachments could jeopardize the army. It made sense that most highly-skilled shinobi signed a contract at some point.
Reshuffling talent meant abiding by those contracts that had already re-based many people. Iwa wanted Sakura to stay and help with their medical—to her great surprise—but she couldn't remain where Ino was. C, the third highest-ranking medical shinobi, would have to move there instead. However, a Kumo fighter separated from C was transferred to Iwa a year ago—so the fighter was going to Suna. And so on, and so forth, until enough people were listed to fill a whole platoon.
It was a pile of confusion and bitterness for everyone involved. The Kage, sans the Kazekage, insisted it was all for the greater good.
After the battle debrief, Sakura housed herself in medical again, maintaining consciousness with soldier pills. Ino stayed with her and helped where she could. As long as the battle base remained, they and everyone else subject to separation were permitted to stay together.
Shikamaru moved into Temari's tent. The pair were forced to carve time out together on battle bases, too, though they weren't formally separated. They were always careful not to push their luck—Shikamaru never asked to be reassigned to Suna, never sought missions where Temari camped, and never stayed longer than his assignment called for when she was present. Temari, for her part, worked tirelessly on behalf of the Kazekage so that no one would dare speak against her.
Gaara might've had the power to keep the policy off himself and his sister, but he couldn't block an action brought forth by the Hokage against the couple.
And according to the debrief, it was Gaara's idea to begin integrating in the first place. Also Gaara's idea: Commencement of daily training within the bases. Suna had already enacted the training regimen two weeks ago, he'd explained. Medics were free to join the training sessions if they wished, Tsunade had so decreed.
Sakura was just glad that Gaara did as he promised.
Iwa was moving their entire base closer to the borders of Fire and Wind Countries. Kumo was considering moving their base further inland, as well. Suna wanted to expand their camp to fit all the new transfers, while Kiri hoped to downsize and fortify.
The Kage were moving a hundred pieces at once—on the logistics front, the personnel front, the strategy front. Energized by the win, they mobilized many parts in unison as if thrust back to the start of the war.
Sakura downed soldier pills and maintained.
Anytime her thoughts wandered two inches too far, she shut them off. If a patient asked about the glowing Katsuyus, she walked away. Shizune dealt with all dismemberment. She kept her mind barren and flighty so it wouldn't crack.
There were people to heal and supplies to restock, and nothing else in the world mattered.
But every now and then, as her rounds grew muted at dusk and the sun sent warm orange through the empty spaces of the base, Sakura would see her. In the shinobi she was healing or in the corner of the room. In the feathery, watercolor clouds. In the scrolls of sealed weapons the fighters toted around. Reflected in the water basin she washed her hands in. Bloodied and smiling and only half of herself.
Sometimes, though, Tenten wasn't bloody. Sometimes she was whole. Sometimes she was holding two dango skewers and laughing behind the closing flap of a tent. Sometimes she was next to Sakura, her finger pointed towards the sunset, eyes ablaze with joy.
Sometimes she was right in front of her, smiling and saying, Thank you.
The Tenten that haunted her never grabbed onto her to wrestle her into the ground. She never gazed at her with accusation or anger. Even when the woman multiplied into thousands, so numerous and dense she filled the entire field, her blood spilling onto every clean space, she only ever smiled.
And it was somehow worse than being trapped on that gruesome battlefield. So much worse.
Three days after the debrief, as she made her rounds through the medical field, nodding along to the story Tenten was telling about her genin days, Tsunade came to her. Walking right through Tenten, wisping away the gatherer like smoke. Sakura blinked and held back an angry shout about Tsunade's rudeness.
They were on the edge of the temporary medical field, where the moderately injured lodged.
A small clan from Iwa had a jutsu that forced grass to grow, and three clansmen spawned a parcel of soft flora for the shinobi here—so the patients wouldn't have to lie on stone. The warm, green pasture against the endless flat, dull brown sea of earth was a strange sight. An oddly fragrant scent of freshly cut grass tinged the air, overcast with a mid-morning white mist.
It was a pleasant day—if one ignored the bite of decay and desperation on the wind.
"Hello, Hokage," Sakura said, bowing.
Tsunade regarded her with discontent. "How long do you plan on behaving like this?"
"Like what?"
Face darkening, Tsunade motioned across Sakura's body at attention, hands locked behind her back. "Don't play dense. You know what I mean. You're acting like an ANBU."
Sakura knew some might call her behavior childish or petty, but she wasn't sure how else to handle Tsunade since the contract. The forced pleasantry of status difference provided an appropriate alternative to the restrained fury that would otherwise explode or the silence that threatened to settle between them forever. Even now, a week later, Sakura could barely look her mentor in the eye.
When it was clear Sakura had no intention of answering, Tsunade spat, "Forget it, then." Fingers pressed into the bridge of her nose as she scanned her student's face. "How is medical?"
"Good."
"...Good. And—how are you?"
"Fine."
The Hokage took a long breath. "I don't like things being this way, Sakura."
"I'm sorry," was all Sakura could offer.
Sakura looked across base medical in the ensuing quiet. For the scale of the battle, there were very few seriously injured—almost a miracle.
...What if the war had turned out this way from the beginning? If the Allies won this conclusively from the start, could this fighting have ended years ago? Would it have ended after that first battle?
What if Sasuke joined the Allies at the beginning instead of four years later? Could he and Naruto have stopped Tobi before Madara appeared? Could they have killed Madara before he ported to safety?
...What does it matter?
Reality swiftly purged those hopeful scenarios.
It didn't happen that way, so why bother fantasizing about it? They were still here, four and a half years later, fighting for nothing and dying more every day. Ensnared in a graveyard of friends who'd never make it home, whether they won or not. Stuck on this battlefield forever.
There was no use in pining for change. Change wouldn't resurrect the dead.
"I want to talk about the battle. About your seal and Katsuyu," Tsunade said, drawing her from the brooding.
No one had forced her to confront that yet. People tiptoed around since the battle ended, allowing her to avoid any reminders. To think about it made her lungs ache with a scream; her mind fissured with the mania she'd barely reigned in on field medical.
There is Tenten saying goodbye.
Sakura left the memory with a nod. This conversation was inevitable, and no amount of time would make it easier to touch.
Best to rip the bandage. "Okay. Let's talk." Her hands wrung themselves at her back.
"You know that Hundred Healings sacrifices your life force with every use."
"Yes."
"You'll die early if you use it too frequently. Using it on others might shorten their lifespans as well. It's never been done before, so we don't know the potential consequences."
I'll die early from the war anyway, she thought, vision tracing the horizon. All of us will.
But she replied, "I know."
"And it takes huge amounts of your chakra reserve." Tsunade paused. "How much do you have left now?"
Sakura mentally probed her seal. "Less than half of what I had before the battle." Admittedly, it was a considerable loss. Over three times more than the most she'd ever used in any previous fight.
"Mm. Well. Kakashi said it because he thought it'd help in the moment, but what he said wasn't wrong. Katsuyu's necessary to our army and your proficiency with her is beyond mine. We need you. The only close alternative is Naruto."
Was Tsunade encouraging her or threatening her? It was impossible to tell these days. Regardless, explicitly or implicitly, the Hokage was well aware that Naruto's safety was Sakura's leash.
It should've angered her, but Sakura couldn't find it in herself to feel anything more than indifference.
She could feel nothing or let the hysteria take her. No middle ground was left between her bones.
"It won't happen again," Sakura assured.
"Do you have enough reserves for upcoming battles?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Depends on how closely I monitor the jutsu and how many troops get deployed. Maybe three, maybe thirty."
Tsunade studied her. Sakura could read the woman's airs well enough to glean what her mentor saw. Something was...different about her student, was what Tsunade was thinking. Maybe it was how the green of her irises gleamed a little less, or how the corner of her lip turned down, or how her answers held no inflection.
The Hokage was clearly worried for her, but all she said was, "You did well," as she laid a hand on Sakura's head.
It seemed to be the Sannin's new favorite action. Maybe she was attempting to rebuild their trust through Sakura's need for physical contact. Maybe she was merely feeling nostalgic. Maybe it didn't mean anything.
Sakura let Tsunade's warmth invade her skull for several moments before stepping out of it. Whatever her shishou's intention, Sakura wasn't ready to mend that bridge.
Perhaps she never would be.
"...The combination of those techniques, it's not something I've ever thought possible. I'm not sure I could do it."
"Mm," Sakura hummed noncommittally.
"Even the portions of Katsuyu I summoned in Suna shone with your chakra." Tsunade peered at her with veiled admiration and a hint of trepidation. "You instantly healed the entire battlefield. Everyone—even those mortally wounded."
"Not everyone." Training her sights on a space over Tsunade's shoulder, Sakura thought, Not Tenten.
"But thousands, still. So many people are indebted to you. I'm indebted to you. Not just for this battle, but for the entire war."
Sakura held her tongue. Tsunade was indebted to her for what? After four and a half years, thousands more were dead than were alive. Thousands more would surely die in fights she'd be responsible for. Her nails dug into her palms—indebted to her for losing so many? For being useless?
…Or maybe indebted for taking what should've been the Hokage's burden to bear.
Instantly, Sakura wished for the conversation to end. Tsunade took the opportunity to press on.
"You'll be needed in battle more frequently with this integration. But if you need some time to...process this last battle and replenish your chakra reserves, the Kage have all agreed that—"
"I said I'm fine." Bowing, she added, "Excuse my rudeness, Hokage, but I've got rounds to finish."
Tsunade's mouth opened, then closed. Then, after a moment, the Hokage nodded.
"Okay. Just...well, I'm proud of you."
The sentiment twisted Sakura's stomach in repulsion. Pivoting away from her mentor without a word, she moved to lose herself in the tent city as fast as she could—in the opposite direction of whatever rounds she was supposedly to finish.
Proud? PROUD?
Sakura still felt how motionless Tenten's chest had been against her cheek. Could draw the exact curve of Tenten's lashes, clumped in sweat and filth. Smelled the acrid tinge of Tenten's blood on her fingertips. Sensed how the woman's weak grip commanded that she die. Sakura's throat still burned slightly metallic days later with a barely-held scream.
And Tsunade was proud of her?
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A thought formed over the next day of healing—of going through the motions of being a normal, functioning human.
Could soldier pills replenish her chakra reserves?
The idea hadn't crossed her mind in all four years. Surely other shinobi had considered it?
Then again, few jutsu stored chakra the same way the byakugou seal did. Possibly only she or Tsunade would even ponder such a theory—and the Hokage didn't fight to drain herself anymore, so she'd no reason to mull over maintaining her seal.
But if Sakura used soldier pills to replenish her active chakra, what stopped her from storing all that pill chakra in the byakugou? Wouldn't that make her seal's jutsu infinite?
Rolling a pill between her thumb and index finger, she weighed the prospect. Potentially, it'd make her, and by extension the army, extraordinarily powerful. Merely having the chakra to maintain Hundred Healings forever didn't mean she had the limitless life force required as a sacrifice, however. Surging Hundred Healings into Immense Healing Network still required that she subject herself to the jutsu first.
Her fingers paused. It was an easy decision, really. Be it tomorrow or in 80 years, she'd die one day. Maybe this way, she could die without seeing any more of her loved ones die before her. And maybe the sooner it happened, the better.
She popped the capsule in her mouth.
They weren't the soldier pills she'd grown accustomed to in genin days. These were a special formula she created early in the war. They replenished chakra and boosted energy at a lower dosage than the old pills, allowing a shinobi to take more in a single day without many adverse side effects.
They were ideal for battle.
Although using them continuously for over a week, as she'd done, wasn't their intended purpose. It would undoubtedly come back to bite her as soon as she stopped shoveling them into her system.
As the pill disintegrated in her stomach, her active chakra pool swelled, and caffeine shot through her bloodstream. Circulating the fresh chakra through her channels twice, she warmed it, then drove it to the pathways of her seal.
It worked.
Chakra slowly began melting into her reserves. Not as smooth as her natural chakra deposited, nor as efficient. She was losing significantly more in the transfer than she would typically.
But the pill chakra dripped auspiciously into the ocean of her seal—so it mattered little whether she lost half or three-quarters of it during the transition. Hundreds of soldier pills were accessible to her. There were hundreds more she could make should those run out.
An infinite supply of chakra to replenish her reserves whenever she needed it.
By the time Kakashi came to see her later that day, she'd already funneled over 200 pills into her seal. Stomach queasy and fingers twitchy with caffeine she hadn't yet burned off, her reserve had regained nearly all of what it'd lost in the last battle. It wouldn't take but a couple hundred more to fully restock to pre-war levels.
The discomfort of using so many pills in such a short timeframe mattered little to Sakura. The likely but unknown consequences of it mattered even less.
He strolled into her battle base tent when she was trying to eat dinner with Ino that night. Her belly turned at the smell of the soup the base served, pills not allowing her to attempt even half a bite.
The tents were little more than seven-by-seven foot spaces. A sleeping mat lay on the far corner; in Sakura's case, a stone desk and chair stood opposite. A soft light hung in the center of the tent, a fire jutsu that never burned too hot, caught in a glass bottle suspended by a twine string.
She sat on her mat, letting Ino have the desk.
Ino hadn't mentioned Sakura poking at her soup, but Sakura worried Kakashi might dig deeper if he saw her pushing food around. She could probably pass it off as a loss of hunger from the battle—but it'd been six days, so the excuse might make him fret over whether she hadn't eaten in almost a week.
Her not-entirely-proper use of the soldier pills wasn't exactly something she considered a secret, but she didn't necessarily want others to know about it. Least of all one with a higher position than her. She didn't want orders to stop.
Nodding at Kakashi as he straightened himself in the tent, she placed the uneaten bowl of smelled-like-mystery soup on the ground behind her. Blocking his view of it.
"Ladies," he said with a grand bow. "What are they serving tonight? I haven't gotten to the dining tent."
"Vegetable stew and bread...again," Ino answered with a scowl, lifting a small spoonful to her lips.
"It only seems to get better each night, hm?" Kakashi was smiling beneath his mask.
"Mhm, right. Better."
His sights flitted to her. "And how are you, Sakura?"
"Fine. You?"
Kakashi examined her, gaze doubtful. Then he sighed and sat on the ground, back resting against a tent pole, right knee pulled to his chest.
"Doing well, thank you. I came to apologize to the two of you." He waited as Ino turned to face him. "If I'd known it'd push the Hokage toward the policy, I never would've allowed that Suna trip. The battle came before I could say this sooner."
"It's not your fault Tsunade's a bitch," Ino quipped.
Sakura shut her eyes. "Stop it."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Nonetheless—Tsunade intends for me to be the next Hokage. I could've stepped in to stop it, but I didn't. I'm sorry for that."
"It's fine. It doesn't matter," said Sakura, resigned. "Was probably gonna happen eventually."
Ino scowled. "Really? What does that mean?"
"It means that you care about each other. Nothing's wrong with that, but the Kage won't tolerate it forever," Kakashi answered in her stead. And then, not so smoothly, he changed the subject. "I also wanted to say I'm proud of you both. Asuma would've been too. The efficiency you two have in battle is immeasurable. We only won because you kept the army in position and alive."
There was that word again: Proud. Neither woman made a sound. Ino turned back to her soup.
"We need you two," Kakashi said after the pregnant pause.
It seemed like he was trying to tell them something without saying it, but Sakura couldn't connect the hints in his demeanor. Proud ricocheted around her skull, a distracting and disturbing bounce ball.
"Strange way for the Kage to treat people they claim to need," Ino snided at her bowl. "Forcing us away from the people we love. Making us do their job and suffer their consequences. Makes you wonder how they treat the people they don't need."
Smiling bitterly at Sakura, Ino abruptly stood and walked towards the tent opening.
"Leaving so soon?" Kakashi asked, pulling his other leg to him so she needn't step over it to exit.
"I've gotta see my clan members before they leave for Konoha base. Good to see you, Kakashi. I'll be back to help with medical afterward, Sakura."
"See you," she muttered.
The tent closed silently, sealing in the quiet that sank between student and teacher. It wasn't the comfortable atmosphere she typically enjoyed with him.
He regarded her as if a hundred things sought to fly from his mouth but none could cross the threshold of his lips. Staring back blankly, Sakura didn't think too hard about anything. That was the easiest way to avoid materializing the ghouls at the edge of her vision.
Instead, she focused on his silver hair. His grey brows. His dark eye. The black fabric covering the bottom half of his face. The things she'd seen thousands of times, things that simply were—that didn't need to be understood to know. She focused on these parts to shun the emotions he failed to hide behind that mask.
"What are your plans for after the war, Sakura?" he finally asked.
Her brow quirked. That was unexpected. She'd anticipated more apologies or explanations, maybe a brief interrogation about what she'd done with Hundred Healings.
But—plans for after the war?
...Did she have any?
Her brain was full of plans for medical rounds in the morning. What supplies were running low. Some different treatments she wanted to try on a couple of complex injuries.
And if she pressed too far, there were plans that could no longer be. Spending time with Tenten. Taijutsu training with Lee. Barbeque with Choji. Walks through the forest with Kiba and Akamaru. Reprimanding Neji for neglecting his health. Missions with Team Seven.
But there were no real plans for after the war.
Maybe she'd made plans at one point, near the beginning. Three or four years ago, perhaps she'd thought about life after fighting. But there was only the battlefield now, and she would never leave it—
So there wasn't any reason to plan.
"I can't think that far ahead... I'm barely holding on as it is."
That was the first time she'd confessed it to someone else. The first time she'd spoken it aloud. Carefully observing Kakashi for any sign of recoil at the confession, she released a breath when none came.
"It's no secret, so I'm sure you know," he started slowly, "but Tsunade left the village for many years after the second war."
"I know."
"They say she was a completely different person when it ended. And—I guess I'm trying to say, it saddens me watching her push all of Konoha's brightest into the same corner. Seeing her do it to you, especially."
Sakura blinked, taken aback. Kakashi seldom spoke against the Hokage so directly—if at all.
"War is war," she said bluntly. "Inevitably, everyone will lose someone eventually. It's not Tsunade's fault. None of us asked for this." The last words felt thick in her throat. Sakura had heard them somewhere before...
Her mind reminded her the next second that she didn't want to remember where.
"Perhaps. Still, you'd think she would've learned from her own experience. It's hard enough losing loved ones, but forcing them apart..."
"Please, Kakashi. Leave it. I—" She shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Very well. My apologies again." Standing with a grunt, he brushed himself off, taking a quick last-look around her sterile tent. "But I want you to know, when this is over, I'm praying more than anything that you remain loyal to Konoha. To me."
"I'll always be loyal to you, sensei." And she meant it.
He smiled from behind the mask. "And Konoha?"
Sakura didn't have an answer for that. Not anymore. And she was certain any one she might find wouldn't be one he'd want to hear.
The realization made her chest constrict as she looked away.
"...What if this never ends?" she asked instead.
His smile dropped at her non-answer. "One day, it will. That's what we must strive towards... And Konoha and I will need you more than ever when it does. There'll be many things to rebuild. Lives to restart. Tsunade will probably step down, and I'll need your help."
Her chest tightened until inhaling was painful. "I may not have anything left to give by then."
A tautness seized the air.
Kakashi's whole frame froze, as if he'd forced his body not to go to her. Like he wanted to wrap her up and beg her not to go anywhere—but wouldn't. Like he was afraid that if he moved, she'd disappear.
She'd obviously caught him off-guard.
Then he shoved his hands in his pockets, and the moment passed.
He hadn't tried to keep her. The pressure against her heart receded with a ragged inhale.
"If it comes to that, Sakura, then know this. When I become Hokage, you'll have my blessing if you leave. You'll never be marked missing. And if you decide to stay, though it might be more than you feel Konoha deserves... I'll forever be grateful. But, you'll be free to do whatever you choose. You deserve that."
She kept her stare on the ground at his feet and didn't bother thanking him. It was a nice sentiment.
Nice and empty. Kakashi probably knew it, too, even as he offered it to her.
Because this war would never end for either one of them.
The fighting might end—and the Allies might even win. But the war would continue until she was dead, or he was dead, and then their battle would simply live on in everyone left alive who cared about them. Their ghosts would haunt Naruto until he died—and he'd haunt Hinata until she died—and she might haunt Mirai until she died.
The war would last far beyond the last battle for every miserable soul trapped in its cage.
And even if the fighting did end, Sakura doubted she'd be alive to see it.
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Sakura learned the coordinate teams dispatched by Kiri and Kumo during the battle were successful.
There were five coordinates left—two in Wind Country, two in Earth, and one more in Fire.
The orders came the next day. Shino was given a mission to a coordinate in Wind, and Shikamaru was given one in Earth. Neither would be team leads, to Shikamaru's surprise.
They were both returning to Konoha base when their missions finished. The battle base was officially shutting down.
Sakura, Ino, and the two men met that evening for the last time in Shino's tent. By morning they'd be off on their assignments: Sakura would be on her way to Kumo, while Ino would be left alone to resettle at Iwa's new home base.
The hushed anguish between them was tangible.
Shino lay on his mat, studying the slant of the tent ceiling. Shikamaru sat backward on a chair beside a desk, cigarette hanging from his mouth. Sakura was cross-legged on the floor, her lap a cradle for Ino's head, the two of them staring glass-eyed at the brown, burlap walls. Her fingers mechanically combed through Ino's fine hair, a muscle memory that required no awareness.
"I'm glad Hinata's away... I hope she never comes back. Doesn't that sound awful?" Shino asked the room.
"No," said Sakura, the statement rousing her from silence. "I feel the same about Naruto. I want him to stay away forever."
Shikamaru itched inside his ear. "I shouldn't say this, so keep it to yourselves, but the Kage are talking about fighting in the battles again. I—overheard it when they called me about the coordinates."
"You mean you were listening in," mumbled Shino.
"Anyway," Shikamaru stated more loudly, "I also heard the Raikage say he wanted to bring the jinchuriki back to end things."
With a sour face, Ino said, "The Raikage shouldn't get ahead of himself. We were losing for four years. A few decent battles don't mean we can suddenly take on Madara."
"Well, it is odd that Madara hasn't shown himself in so long," Shino pointed out.
"I shouldn't say this either...but I learned from Orochimaru that Madara's body isn't well." Sakura twisted Ino's hair around her index finger. "It's rejecting itself, potentially because of the reanimation."
Three sets of curious stares landed on her—and though it was against its Classed rules, Sakura decided to share what she'd gathered from Orochimaru. The Sakura from just last month probably wouldn't have broken policy. But every morning, she felt less attached to the Kage and their orders than she had the night before.
So in little more than a whisper, she explained the fatty-like mass he'd meticulously cut into sections. The composition of Madara's returned body. The stockpiles. How Orochimaru fixed the rejected pieces for reattachment.
Ino sat up excitedly when she finished. "It was white with blue veins, you said?"
"Yes."
"Exactly like the tree in the room my team was sent to destroy," said Ino, wide-eyed and grin growing.
Surprised, Sakura's thoughts kicked and turned around that connection. How'd I miss that when Tenten recounted—
Summoned by her name, Tenten was suddenly sitting beside her. Smiling. Half-gone. Bloody. Enchanting. Sakura stilled her breath and body—tried not to look over at the specter.
Ino's gaze turned worried as she examined Sakura's ashen face, brows pinched.
"Could the rooms be where he's housing Hashirama's cells?" Shikamaru asked, unaware of the dead girl beside him.
Tenten nodded at his words, then drifted away like fog. Sakura's muscles slowly uncoiled; her chest ached at the fresh absence.
The four of them discussed what it could mean for the Allies if Shikamaru was right. How Sakura should bring it up to the Hokage, even though she was sure Kakashi had already put two and two together. They ran through scenarios of what might happen if Madara lost all his stores and couldn't continue remaking his body.
But none of their revelations impacted them in the short term. Whether Madara was or wasn't easier to beat in some theoretical fight didn't change the fact that they only had a few more hours together. They were still being separated in the morning—shipped off to be alone.
Beating Madara two months or two years in the future wouldn't change their tomorrow.
The room fell mute when they exhausted the topic.
Ino laid back in Sakura's lap, natural and calm—and for half a second, it almost felt like they were in Konoha. Almost felt like the old Konoha 11 meeting days.
Almost—but then the clamor of base leaked through the thin burlap walls, and the moment faded. Those days were lost to the forever, now. Those people, too.
Now there was just a quarter of them left. And rather than shaded by a blooming tree under their hometown's peaceful, blue sky, they were in a dingy, cramped tent in Earth Country licking incurable war wounds. Bitterly savoring their final moments together.
The little reminder of their lost home had Kakashi's reserved inquiry from yesterday flitting through her mind.
"Once Madara's gone... When the war's over, what happens then?"
"Hadn't thought about it," Shikamaru admitted.
"Feels like it'll never end," said Ino.
"Just...assume that it does. Do you guys have—plans for...after?"
"I'll take over as head of my clan eventually," Shino answered after a beat. "Maybe I'll teach at the academy, too. I've always wanted to be a teacher of some sort."
Shikamaru shrugged. "Guess I'd become an advisor and assume my father's position. Help Naruto become Hokage or something."
"Will people acknowledge Naruto as Hokage?" asked Shino. "I mean, I will, don't take that the wrong way. I only mean that he hasn't been fighting with us, so…"
It was a question that Sakura hadn't ever considered. A good question. Of course she'd support Hokage Naruto, but could other rank-and-file shinobi who didn't know him personally do the same?
"Definitely," Shikamaru replied smoothly, like he'd already considered and tossed the thought away long ago. "It might be better that he isn't in the battles, honestly. People might accept his leadership more easily like this."
Sakura's brow knitted. "What do you mean?"
"For one, he won't be as fucked up as the rest of us. He'll probably still have his optimistic streak, and Konoha's gonna need that after the war. Mostly, though, no one holds any negative connotations between him and anyone they lost in the war. It won't be his fault a friend or family member died in these battles."
Like how people will think it's our fault, remained unsaid in the air. Sakura pretended not to see the pained look on Shikamaru's face.
"What about you, Ino?" Shino attempted, wrangling the conversation past the tension.
Ino blinked like she hadn't been listening at all. "What?"
"What will you do when the war ends?"
Humming so low only Sakura could hear it, Ino's face scrunched in thought. "Reopen the flower shop. And get married to a nice guy who's really hot."
Shikamaru puffed a cloud of smoke into the air. "What nice guy's gonna marry you?"
Sakura, Shino, and the shadows of the dead Konoha 11 laughed as Ino jumped from the ground and stalked toward Shikamaru with a raised fist. Sometimes there were still these warm moments, even on the darkest days. Smiling, they all watched Shikamaru fend Ino's assault off half-heartedly. Choji was next to them, cheering Ino on. Kiba rolled on the ground in silent hysterics.
Sometimes their resurrection wasn't painful at all. Sometimes Neji would smirk as he turned and walked away from her, and Sakura almost followed him. Sometimes she barely kept herself from falling into their world when Lee offered her flowers she couldn't hold. Sometimes their sham presence was the only thing in the whole universe she longed for.
Maybe if she made it out of this war alive, they would be the death of her instead.
.
.
Three hours before she was to leave for Kumo, a bird flew into her sleeping tent and pecked the back of her head at four in the morning. She closed the book she was reading, sent word to Kakashi that she'd report to Kumo when finished, and ported to Orochimaru's base in her transformation.
"Ah, Sakura Haruno. Welcome," came a voice as soon as the lab materialized.
"Rei," she said calmly, taking in her surroundings.
Orochimaru sat at his desk over a book, back to her. It smelled of fresh citrus. The metal operating table was empty and clean.
"Hmm?"
"Call me Rei if you must call me something." She'd decided to use the secretary's name when making soldier pills for the Iwa battle.
"Very well, Rei." A smile laced his words. "Sasuke will return shortly. You only just missed him. Do make yourself comfortable."
Sakura turned and sat on the single chair in the corner, sinking into its cushions. It was a peculiar evolution that she felt relaxed enough to nap in a room with Orochimaru, but here she was. Ready to sleep a mere ten feet away from the man until Sasuke returned.
"Congratulations on the battle," he said after a moment, startling her from rest. "Madara's quite upset about the loss."
"Tch. What's there to congratulate? People still died."
"Everyone dies eventually, Sakura Haruno."
"Rei."
"Ah, yes. Rei."
Sakura shut her eyes. It'd been days since she'd really slept—the offer to do so was too tempting to deny now.
"And the seal," he interrupted again. "Have you consulted Tsunade?"
Evidently, when she assumed it meant Sleep, she'd misunderstood what Orochimaru meant by Make yourself comfortable.
"...Why did you place it on us?" she grumbled loudly.
"Now, now. I asked first."
Through her short interactions with the man, she'd learned that playing his games was easier than fighting them. Most of the time, if she played nice, she got good information from it anyway.
"Yes, I asked."
"And did she know what it was?"
"She did." Sakura opened one eye to watch what he'd do with that answer.
Orochimaru turned to her with a smirk. "What did my former teammate advise you to do?"
She entertained making up a story or not telling him anything, but she'd also learned it was more beneficial to let Orochimaru win some battles he cared about. She didn't care about anything lately, after all—this included. So what did it matter?
"Seduce him," she droned.
Orochimaru laughed, deep from his belly, but he didn't look the least bit surprised. "I knew it. You see, dear Rei, teammates may be separated for many years, but teammates will always be teammates."
Clearly, the man was pleased with Tsunade's order. How he constantly spoke in roundabout ways that forced her to think more than she wanted was insufferable, however. Sakura rested her head on the back of the chair.
To think too deeply about anything was dangerous for her.
The battlefield was too deadly; the faces too familiar. Her mind couldn't handle the overwhelming weight of it all right now. There was no advantage in overestimating one's strength in war—and at the moment, her psyche was like a china cup on a shrinking shelf. Any thought at length shrunk the support it further.
"Alright, snake. I've answered, now it's your turn."
"You want to know why I did it and not how to undo it?"
"I'd like to know both, but I think you'll only tell me one... And I'd rather know why."
Orochimaru chuckled at her words. "Clever girl. But how clever?" He paused. "What do you think Sasuke will do when this is over?"
"The agreement?"
"The war."
It was a bizarrely coincidental question. As if Orochimaru had ears on the battle base. Like he'd been right in Shino's tent with her friends.
"...How should I know?"
"Not so clever, then."
Slightly offended, Sakura tapped her finger on the armrest. "Maybe he'll rebuild his clan."
It was the first thought that came to her, and she barely believed it herself. But Sasuke had to want to do that at some point, right? He wouldn't just...let the Uchiha clan die out.
Right?
"And where would he do that?" the Sannin prodded.
Again, how would she know? Like herself and everyone else, Sasuke would probably die before the war ended. That thought didn't hurt like it should, since she'd probably die before him anyway.
These questions were meaningless. So she opted for the easiest answer again—
"Konoha." Never mind that Konoha didn't exist anymore. Dead like everything else.
"You think the Hokage will authorize his return?"
"Well, yeah." She hesitated, scraping her nails against the fabric of the chair. "Assuming the war ends in our favor. Tsunade agreed to clear his record. That means he can come back—you as well."
With another laugh, Orochimaru said, "You think far too highly of the Kage."
Sakura let the annoyance flow through her for a second, then tamped down on it. The seal at her neck pulsed like a question mark. She tapped it with her chakra, its heat washing across her chest, calming her. Giving her something to focus on.
"I'd rather sit in silence than play word games with you. I don't care about this." Even though it was a conversation about Sasuke, she honestly didn't. The seal's warmth bathed her in a lake of indifference. "Say what you're getting at, or let me rest."
"You truly believe the Kage intend to set Sasuke free after the war?"
"That's what they agreed to."
"They may have, but he's a dead man if the Allies win this war. Sasuke's smart enough to know that. I thought you would be, too."
Sakura of four-and-a-half years ago would've disagreed with him immediately. Sixteen-year-old Sakura thought the Kage were slightly problematic but otherwise just and honest. War Sakura had learned that the Kage were merely powerful shinobi with huge egos and conflicting loyalties. They were headstrong and shifty—and she could pretend they'd keep their word, but she knew Orochimaru painted a high probability.
If the Allies won this war soon, it'd be primarily thanks to Sasuke. A significant percentage of their losses would also be courtesy of Sasuke. Could the Kage allow such an indomitable non-enemy, not-quite-ally to live?
"If you two don't trust us, why turn in the first place? Help Madara win and stay alive."
"Sasuke's motives are his own to share. As for mine, I gave you that seal as an insurance policy."
"Insurance for what?"
"Did you know I rewrote the contact specifications?" he asked, ignoring her question again. She wondered briefly if this man had imparted the habit on Sasuke, or if the two had been similar-natured from the start.
"I deduced as much."
"I was hoping they'd send you," Orochimaru said carefully.
"I got that too." There was information to gather if she could force herself to care a little. She'd prefer the conversation to end and sleep to take her, but... "Why?"
"The Hokage and her successor favor you as their student, while the Allied troops rely on you for survival. The unique position you've carved out as pseudo-medical lead in Tsunade's absence gives your word considerable weight, even amongst the other Kage. And you're familiar with him already, making things easier on the front end. If it were you speaking on Sasuke's behalf, perhaps he'll manage to keep his life."
"You think I wouldn't stick up for Sasuke? That Naruto wouldn't?" Shifting to curl her legs beneath her, she didn't mention that she probably had less power in the army than he thought because of this agreement he'd cornered her into.
"You might—you might not. Either way, the seal ensures it. You're more likely to protect him if you're sealed. When the time comes, you won't be able to stand by and watch him get executed. It increases the likelihood that you'll see him to the other side of this war."
The sentiment reminded her of Orochimaru's earlier remark: Teammates will always be teammates. Because—hadn't Tsunade spoken near-identical words to her before the last battle?
The two remaining Sannin were so strange. How did they speak mirrored thoughts weeks and miles apart when they hadn't had any genuine contact in over 20 years? What exactly had they gone through that tied them together so closely?
"Why do you care if he lives?" she asked. "Weren't you trying to murder him from the start?"
"It's true I sought to claim his body initially." From behind, she watched his head cocked to the side—could almost see his mind whirling over the question. "Do you know what Izanami is, dear Rei?"
Again with the non-answer. "No."
"It's a very powerful genjutsu without any way out but through. Unlike anything you've ever encountered before."
"Amazing," she intoned.
"Do you know its only known user in recent years?"
"If I don't even know what it is, obviously not."
He clicked his teeth at her snark. "Itachi Uchiha."
Sakura's breath hitched. She hadn't heard that name in years. Last she knew, Itachi Uchiha died before the war. Or rather, he'd been killed before the war.
A fit of abrupt anger washed through her. "I don't want or need to talk about Sasuke's brother," she spat.
Mostly because she didn't want to think about a dead man when no wraiths clouded her vision for the first time in days. Partially because she thought Sasuke might not like her and his mentor chatting about Itachi behind his back.
"Alright." There was a smirk in Orochimaru's voice again.
Slumping lower in the chair, Sakura wrapped her arms around her torso for warmth. Orochimaru's gaze tickled, but she said nothing of it, opting to keep her eyes shut. Frankly, she wished he'd leave her alone so she could nap.
"Your chakra is muddled," he observed after some minutes, just as she'd started to drift.
"...Mm."
"Especially around the mind."
"Everyone's is. We're in a war."
"Speaking of war, I heard a curious rumor about the last battle. About a feat even Tsunade couldn't achieve. I wonder..." She heard him turn a page in his book. "Have you damaged yourself, Sakura Haruno?"
She shot a glare at his spine. "I gave you a name to use. Don't make me repeat myself a fourth time. Where's Sasuke? I'm tired of your prattling."
"Have I mentioned before how similar you two are?" He chuckled. "…Ah, well, he's meeting with Madara now. He called for you because you weren't sleeping, so go ahead and rest now."
Don't think too far into that, she told herself immediately. "I don't find your jokes funny," she told Orochimaru after.
"What joke?"
"He summoned me for information."
The Sannin tutted. "Did he? But I'm unaware of any new information. He summoned you, ordered me to wait here and tell you that you can rest until he's back, then went away to his meeting."
"And where in there means he called me because I wasn't sleeping?"
"He's been very irritated and jittery. You've been taking too many soldier pills, correct? Their caffeine would affect the seal."
She didn't answer. It was only a good guess—most medics would drown in soldier pills after a battle to keep up with base medical. And anyway, wasn't Sasuke always irritated?
"He'll be back in under a day. Just rest there until he comes."
"I don't have a day," she said with annoyance, even as a fresh wave of exhaustion soaked her.
"What do you have to do?"
"Report to Kumo."
"Kumo will be there in a day. I daresay it'll even be there in two."
She really couldn't stand Orochimaru. "What if there's another battle and they need me?" she asked, only halfway rhetorical. The chair felt so comfortable; her body felt so heavy.
"I've no reports about an upcoming attack. And, dear Rei, have you ever considered your army is overly dependent on you?"
"Mhm…"
"Of course they are, since you allow them to be."
"Mhm…" His words rolled around her brain twice before their meaning sank in. "Wait, what?"
"The Allies would be more efficient if you weren't there to clean up after them. If they couldn't rely on your healing, they'd be forced to perform better in battle."
She really couldn't stand that he made sense—so she ignored him, Poking at the seal for additional warmth to help her fall asleep. When it pooled and burst across her chakra channels, she fell into it with a satisfied exhale.
"You're now labeled as something I know well, Sakura Haruno. A Sannin." The title was full of contempt. She was so tired she didn't bother reprimanding him for not using the pseudonym. "As an old Sannin to a new one, I'll give you some advice. One of the worst quandaries of being powerful is that those around you start to believe they don't need their own power."
Sleep was taking her quickly now that she welcomed it. She hadn't taken any soldier pills in hours after consuming over 400 in the past couple of days. Her body was shutting down.
"That's not advice," she mumbled.
"My advice is to let them fail." His sharp voice drifted into her fading consciousness like music. "Everyone will be better for it."
.
.
Whispers were in the air.
Sakura became aware slowly, careful not to move too suddenly, hoping not to alert the voices' owners to her wakefulness.
Sasuke had to be near because her seal hummed pleasantly with his presence. This fact brought her a level of security that reason dictated against, but there was no helping it any longer. The seal had steadily eroded any semblance of a barrier she might've wished to erect between herself and her ex-teammate.
If she were honest with herself, she might admit she never wanted to erect one in the first place. In the end she was still that foolish little girl; blaming it on the seal was easier than accepting her fault.
She concentrated on her surroundings. No longer in a chair, she was strewn across hard stone. A blanket draped over her. The least comfortable pillow she'd ever endured cushioned her head.
Someone had moved her into Sasuke's room.
"She's up," Suigetsu noticed.
Groaning at having been caught so quickly, she sat up, rubbing the crust from her lashes. Her mind and chakra felt rested, though her body felt beat. The rock floor of this bedroom was prime real estate for back problems.
"How long have I been asleep?"
Suigetsu, Orochimaru, and Sasuke huddled together near the weapon grinder. Suigetsu leered at her; Orochimaru smirked. Sasuke stared at a space on the wall above her head. All stood with practiced stillness—the tell-tale pose of feigned nonchalance.
She cocked a brow at their suspicious demeanors. "What's going on?"
"You've been asleep for three days, Rei." Orochimaru spoke the alias like a snake tasting the air. "We were getting worried."
"Three days!?" Sakura jumped up in alarm, her blanket piling on the ground.
She couldn't be away from the army that long—what if Madara had attacked?! What if they had no medical commander? What if—
Forcibly shutting off the thoughts, she rushed to the desk and pulled the first scroll from the shelf. Panicking solved nothing. The quill swept across the page, a teleport jutsu hastily forming. She needed to get to Kumo as soon as possible and deal with any consequences of her prolonged absence. The closest operating port tag she knew of was a day-and-a-half journey from Kumo base, but it was better than nothing, and—
Sasuke was beside her, snatching the scroll from the table. With a shout of protest, she turned to grab it, but he held it high above his head. Unreachable. She tried twice more before lowering her arms and affixing him with a glare.
"I need to return to my army," she hissed. "What the hell are you doing?"
He looked down upon her like God delivering a commandment. "You can't leave."
.
As always, thank you to my beta-reader Leech :)
have a good week!