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Covenant
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Synopsis: In a harmonious world, who takes the blame?
What sins are punished and who decides?
Does vengeance leave with the last of its enemies?
As society rebuilds itself, Sakura learns some things can't be restored.
Not all beginnings start anew—not every ending brings closure.
And sometimes, peace isn't always that peaceful.
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3:6. A Pardon
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NEWS OF the Hokage's decision spread like wildfire through the village, igniting the ire and rebuke of its citizens.
Sasuke Uchiha was getting a pardon. Mere days before the trial was set to start.
For the crime of treason, Kakashi sentenced him to one year of active probation. He would stay partially suppressed and within the walls of Konoha unless granted prior authorization to leave. He'd be supervised by a jonin at all times. Complete a hefty amount of community service—where, though, Sakura had no idea. With all the outrage, she couldn't imagine anyone willing to accept his help. There were fines to pay, loyalty pledges to make, and public statements to give.
But once the year finished, with the understanding he'd rejoin shinobi ranks, all records of Sasuke's nukenin status would be destroyed.
The rest of the charges were summarily dropped. In Konoha, it was the first mercy of its kind. Out of the Fourth Shinobi War, perhaps the first in the continent.
And the Council was in an absolute uproar. Most of the populace, too—not that it mattered.
Just like Sakura had predicted: When it came from the Hokage, no one could do a thing about it but complain.
After all, the world had only just found peace. Finally home, finally safe; no survivor of that five-and-a-half year terror had the will or stomach for more conflict. Even if one of the Council members did, none of them wielded sufficient political strength to exploit it.
They were all too new.
The previous Council, shinobi who might've had a chance at overruling Kakashi, were dead by Sasuke's hand before Obito's first attack. In the midst of combat, there hadn't been any point in reforming it. Power once held by the body funneled into the Hokage out of necessity.
It was a shell of its former glory, now—alive only because Kakashi revived it, completely of his own accord. Weakening his own dominion to grant the citizens a voice. At least, that's what sensei said when he announced its reformation.
Sakura suspected the decision was far less altruistic than Kakashi claimed. With a Council in place, he could pawn off huge portions of his workload and managerial tasks. But if sensei wanted them to think him a man of the people, she'd let the ruse ride. His trick was working in her favor now, anyway.
Somehow, Kakashi's ends always seemed to justify his means, one way or another.
Although the fact it was Kakashi was probably irrelevant. Regardless of who'd held the position once Madara died, everyone was happy to live under the Hokage's exclusive rule. They were just as happy to accept another Council if the Hokage made one; were willing to welcome almost anything in this newfound peace, so long as the battle was over.
War was funny like that, making fighters of the same people it subdued.
But in the end, even as the new Council began sharing the responsibility, it only did so under the Hokage's orders. All its authority emanated from the Hokage. Its members were sworn in by the Hokage. Its choices were enforced by the Hokage.
So while the Council might've enjoyed its granted power, it was still the Hokage who wielded ultimate sovereignty in Konoha. Kakashi could overturn any conclusion the Council made. Veto any mandate it issued.
Pardon any prisoner it charged.
Everyone knew it—citizens, shinobi, the Council members themselves. Yet that understanding didn't preclude the vocal crusade against Kakashi for exercising his right.
"A case of authority inflating ego," the five civilian Council members accused.
"Unfair preference to a former student," claimed the four shinobi clans who'd voted for the charges.
The citizens believed it a dangerous ploy to increase Konoha's standing in the world by tethering a powerful, dangerous shinobi to Fire Country. Some even feared Kakashi aspired for another war.
Sensei took their criticism in stride, owning his verdict with a composure no one could leverage for gain. Swiftly renouncing the accusations as they arose. And though he needed no reason, the one he continually gave was Sasuke's vital assistance in defeating Madara.
In doing so, Kakashi formally disclosed Sasuke's defect from his uncle. Much of his cooperation was declassified, both before and after the Lightning loss.
Claims that Sasuke forced anyone into sexual slavery met Kakashi's fierce denial. Any killings and executions Sasuke committed after the agreement were in furtherance of maintaining Madara's confidence for the Allies' benefit, the Hokage maintained.
But there was nothing to negate the early years of the war. Nothing to counter Sasuke leaving Konoha as a young chunin or the crimes he committed as a nukenin. The promised pardon was all Kakashi could point to; no longer Classed information, resentful Council members quickly revealed it'd long been revoked.
Sakura held no delusions about the escalating publicity fight. Anyone not already supporting exoneration likely wasn't convinced by the Hokage's opinion.
Surprisingly, however, in the upper ranks—more were Team Sasuke than she'd realized.
Many who already knew about the agreement endorsed the Hokage's decision. Some who hadn't known but were privy to high-Classed debriefs during the war, full of intel only an important enemy could give. A few who'd never known anything, yet were skilled at separating their emotions from logic; who understood the significance of a good spy. Recognized the importance of rewarding their work.
For the rest, ten years of betrayal was too long to excuse.
With the reputability of Kakashi's backing, Sakura could only hope, in time, people's fury might temper. She could only pray no one ever looked deep enough to find the truth—
That everything Kakashi peddled as reasons—the agreement, the cooperation—was a lie.
Because the very same arguments sensei made now were the ones she'd been having with him for weeks. If his leniency were truly tied to those grounds, Kakashi would've had a change of heart the moment Sasuke returned. Indictments would've never left the meeting hall in the first place.
The whole village believed the Hokage merely mulled over this judgment for months.
Only Sakura knew better. Only with her had Sensei been honest.
Underneath the underneath, Kakashi wasn't confident Sasuke could escape Konoha's vengeance. If the other foot fell and death came with it, he wasn't convinced Sasuke wouldn't silently accept the punishment.
Nonetheless, no particular affection for the last Uchiha drove the ruling. The trial, the charges, the pardon itself—Kakashi didn't really care about any of it. While he would have mourned the death, Kakashi had long given up on his prodigy. Any attachment left was simply to please her and Naruto.
But he was terrified of what Sasuke's execution might mean for her.
And that fear alone finally, finally, pushed Kakashi to make a choice.
The win came with caveats. She couldn't see Sasuke until Kakashi settled all the paperwork and he left the dungeons. Outside her close circle, she was ordered not to discuss him with anyone. Without prior authorization, she, too, wasn't permitted to leave Konoha. Not that she had plans to.
But none of that mattered. Her sensei had come through. Sasuke would be free.
Maybe, Sakura thought, just maybe—after enduring all the horror, all the loss and pain and struggle—this might mark the start of her healing.
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Everyone knew the Hokage favored her. Most everyone knew her former connection to Sasuke. Even during those years he was an enemy, she hadn't ever been quiet about her ardent support. Accordingly, many assumed she'd played some part in the pardon, though Kakashi never once spoke her name.
They were right, of course—and she felt no guilt about it.
But they couldn't touch the Hokage. The dungeons guarded more strictly than ever, they couldn't get to Sasuke, either.
It left Sakura as the lowest hanging fruit.
In an effort to avoid inevitable confrontations on the street, she put in for vacation and packed what little work she could take home. For Sasuke's sake and Kakashi's wishes, it was best she kept a low profile and out of the way. Hide away in her apartment like a convict.
Except for missions, she hadn't once taken leave since officially assuming leadership of the hospital. It felt bizarre being home in the middle of the day, hours upon hours of nothing to do. She found herself anxious at random times, hypothetical emergencies and piling-up paperwork plaguing her out of nowhere.
But the hospital would survive, with or without her.
Shizune could easily handle any extreme injury. The field medics who'd survived the war and sought to work under her were all highly competent. Plenty of trainees were skilled enough now to take the low-stakes patients without someone hovering over them.
The hospital was fine. She, on the other hand, had no clue what to do without it. The first day of seclusion was spent rearranging her bedroom, only to move everything back to its original place before she went to sleep.
Then she busied herself with anything that came to mind. Cleaning up the mess in her apartment. Finishing reports she'd brought home from work. Writing more about the medical advances made during the war. Reading for fun. Cooking for something other than sustenance. Relaxing, watching people pass by out her window.
And even though the nightmares persisted, not once in the early self-imposed isolation did the shelved memories torment her during the day. The high of Sasuke's coming freedom made being alone not quite so bad. When a garbled, ghostly cry rang out from her bathroom, she set her mind to the warmth of Sasuke's arms, the deep baritone of his voice, and it faded away.
If that said something about her, if others might think less of her for it—she gave it no thought.
All she'd done for years was think. For years, she'd given herself to everyone else. To their needs, their wants, their opinions.
For once in her life, she only had to worry about herself. Inside the safety of her home, it didn't matter that he was the only thing keeping her sane. It didn't matter if she cared more about Sasuke than everyone in the whole damn village combined.
What had any of them ever done for her, anyway?
They'd never helped shoulder her burden. They'd never truly thanked her. She'd kept them all alive—but that hadn't stopped them from turning on her. As soon as Kakashi freed the only person who'd kept her alive, their swords aimed for her back.
It was easier not to think about it. Easier if she didn't let the bitterness build. So she trained her thoughts to the mundane of doing absolutely nothing—away from the village and their hypocritical retribution.
She'd eventually have to retake the mantle of responsibility, after all; return to the hospital and keep them all healthy. Too much spite would only make the job impossible.
Two days into her forced vacation, Naruto's homecoming brought joyous tears and more good news. Lightning Country received word of Sasuke's pardon while Naruto was there. That and his badgering persuaded the Raikage to revisit his vote at the next Kage Summit.
It wasn't the Yes they needed. But it wasn't a definite No anymore, either.
Swiftly and unexpectedly, the pieces were fitting into place. As if the Gods were finally taking notice of their children. If Sakura hadn't spent the last few weeks agonizing over the situation, it might've felt like a predestined ending. Almost seemed like all her worries had been for naught.
She wasn't hopeful. Hope was a dangerous thing. Far too dangerous to rely on for something this important.
But in front of Naruto's elated smile, she let the small flame of optimism flicker to life in her chest, unable to smother it in the face of his excitement.
And when he asked about her kitchen, she played it off.
"My strength got the best of me," she joked, unwilling to reopen the wound, even with him. Especially with him.
"You are kinda scary when you aren't paying attention," he agreed with a chuckle.
And that was that. The conversation progressed on to more agreeable topics, leaving behind the stump of an island and the missing cabinet doors as nothing but an accident.
With Naruto, passing by the sharp edges was as easy as pretending they didn't exist. Sometimes, she envied this trait of his. The cheerfulness. The unending faith that everything would work out. Other times, nothing ever irked her more—how he could laugh through anything he stayed clueless about.
It wasn't like she didn't trust Naruto enough to tell him. It just felt unnecessary, burdening him with her pain when things were suddenly going well. Like she might jinx everything if she spoke life back into the misery.
Nor did she want him to give her that look. Demand an explanation she couldn't give. He might force forward feelings she wasn't ready to confront again, and she didn't want to watch his smile fade as she struggled with an answer.
Opening up in the restaurant hadn't been as impossible as she'd imagined. It hadn't felt horrible.
…But it hadn't necessarily felt good. Nothing changed once she let it out.
The truth would probably only make Naruto feel worse. If she told him he'd never understand the destruction in her kitchen because he hid for five years. If she were honest about how much she lost to keep him safe. What everyone lost who wasn't protected like he'd been.
Even if that admission somehow wasn't enough to kill his optimism, it would almost assuredly make her angry—at him.
But just like everything and everyone else: He hadn't asked for any of that. He'd simply followed orders like the rest of them. There was no point in being upset with him for it.
So there was no point in doing anything except telling a joke and moving on.
He continued visiting her daily, bringing updates on the situation and work she requested from the hospital. Kakashi gave him the same mandate he'd given her regarding Sasuke's pardon, but it seemed he had less of a problem with the public than she did.
Not that it was any surprise. Konoha loved Naruto. He was the beacon of hope they'd fought for. The one who killed the unkillable enemy.
The man who'd never given a single order that lost a life. Never murdered his own to save the whole. Never made a wrong call. Never let anyone down.
All along, Shikamaru had been right. Naruto would become the next beloved Hokage because no one held any negative connotations about his part in the war.
She was happy for him, for it. Happy Konoha had someone to bind them back together.
But that sentiment, too, stirred anger deep in her belly. Bred a quiet resentment in the back of her brain if she dwelled on it long enough. With nothing else to do and no one else to talk to, stemming the thoughts against him got harder every passing hour.
Only a brief slip of the mind. One comment too many. One too-long glance at the side table beside her sofa—and there she was, falling back into the darkness.
The first few days, she'd believed things were getting better. For Sasuke, for her. But the battlefield hadn't gone anywhere. It was always waiting. Hiding around corners, preying on her mistakes. Biding its time until the smallest irritant itched her madness.
There was always another scab to pick. Another new demon lurking underneath, eager to tug her back into hell.
But Naruto survived. Sasuke was almost free. Kakashi was her sensei again. In the solitude of her apartment, she repeated these reminders to herself over and over. A mantra keeping the ugly, festering, growing emotions at bay.
Oblivious to her battle, Naruto remained blissfully and ignorantly upbeat. Five days into their visits, he brought along a suggestion.
"I know someone who can fix your kitchen. You could stay with me and Hinata while he works if you want."
She pushed up from her supine position on the couch. "On the compound…?"
"Yeah. How 'bout it?"
Any other time, it would've been fine. As far as she was aware, though, the Hyuugas still wanted a trial. If she exploded on someone who came to harass her, it would only hurt Sasuke and Kakashi. More so if that person had any connection to Hinata's father.
"Hinata's fine, but... I'd rather avoid anyone else in that clan right now," she said.
Naruto somehow understood where she was going with that. "There's a back entrance by our place. People barely use it. If we time it right, you can sneak right in. No one will even know you're there."
"But they might get mad at Hinata if they find out. You, too." She ran her hand over the blanket across her lap. "I wouldn't want to cause trouble for you two."
He scowled. "Fuck them. The bastards barely talk to Hinata anymore, anyway. I've been trying to convince her to move for weeks, but Hanabi keeps butting in, begging her to stay." Mumbling under his breath, he leaned back on the chair and rolled his eyes. "Listen, I don't give a damn what they think, and I don't care if they find out you're there. Hinata won't either. She already wondered if you needed our help, so it won't be any trouble. I promise."
The offer was tempting.
Sakura peered over at the kitchen. It did need to get fixed eventually, and now was as good a time as any. Some human interaction outside of Naruto might also do her good; the honeymoon of taking time off was quickly disappearing.
"...How much does the guy charge?"
"Kakashi said he'll take care of it."
She shook her head. "I can't accept that."
"Well…" Naruto cleared his throat. "He already paid for it already, actually. Yesterday. That's why I'm bringing it up—the guy wants to know when he can start."
Being the Hokage, Kakashi had plenty of money; she didn't really feel too bad about it. She certainly didn't have the funds for such a big project. If it were left to her, she would've lived with a half-demolished apartment for months.
Without any argument left, Sakura sent a Thank You to the Hokage Tower and moved into Naruto's spare bedroom.
Hinata, quiet and unassuming as always, kept her company during the day when Naruto was out running errands. She didn't bring up the pardon, or the war, or the fact that Sakura was obviously using her house to secret away.
It was nice, having someone around who didn't judge her every move. Someone who she didn't need to smile for to keep the mood right.
Sakura helped her cook. They cleaned the dishes and folded clothes. Listened to music while Hinata watched her dance around the dining room. Hinata told her all the gossip floating around her clan, and Sakura shared the secrets she learned from shifts at the hospital.
It wasn't until Hinata asked, "How's Ino doing?" that Sakura realized she didn't know. Her breakdown and Kakashi's announcement had wholly erased the mental reminder to check in.
A beat later, it occurred to her that Ino hadn't come to check on her in the week and a half she'd been gone, either.
Really, it wasn't that strange. Like everyone did occasionally, there were times she and Ino went a few days without contact. When Sakura was too busy with the hospital, or Ino was out on scouting missions—they each had their own responsibilities to tend to, after all.
Any other time, it wouldn't have been more than a passing thought.
But Shikamaru's unsettling anxiety was suddenly booming in her ears, summoning a nauseous churning in her stomach. Making her wonder if this wasn't just any other time.
Immediately, Sakura felt she needed to see her. Today.
"I haven't talked to her in a while," she admitted. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I should swing by the shop... Do you have any extra-small clothes lying around?"
"I think so. Let me see."
As Hinata went searching, Sakura used the jutsu she'd utilized as a contact. Her body shifted and shrunk into a young teenager with long hair and a petite frame. When Hinata returned, she paused in the door frame, startled.
Recovering quickly, she laid the clothes on the table before walking to the coat closet. "It looks good. Is she someone from another army?"
"No. It's based off a genin in Konoha."
Sakura lifted the shirt up by its sleeves. It looked like one Hinata wore as a genin herself. Tugging it on quickly, she reached for the pants and tied them around her waist next. Both were a bit bigger than she would've liked, though it was a miracle Hinata had anything at all.
Everything Sakura had from those days was destroyed when Madara laid waste to Konoha five years ago. Clothing, pictures, family heirlooms—gone in a single clash. Just like that.
She shook her head to clear the thoughts.
"I don't recognize her," Hinata commented. "Is she a new recruit?"
"I think she joined about two years ago. She works for Kakashi."
"Oh, that's probably why I haven't seen her. I don't go to the Hokage Tower often." Hinata held an orange jacket out for her. "Don't forget to mask your chakra."
Taking the offering, Sakura briefly hesitated. The rest of the outfit wasn't so baggy that people would stare...but at this, they might. Only one person in Konoha wore such bright orange.
She stuffed her arms into it, anyway. Hinata was already helping far more than necessary—she didn't want to be picky. Regardless, she'd only be in public for a few minutes. A couple lingering looks wouldn't be a problem.
"My chakra? You can sense it in the mix?"
"Yes?"
She'd fooled even Madara with this. Only Obito ever suspected anything, and it hadn't been the chakra that tipped him off.
"You're a really gifted sensor, then. Most people can't tell it's mine."
"What do you mean? It's your signature," Hinata said slowly, confused. "It's a transformation, right? You might've accidentally left out a hand sign."
Sakura froze. "Just mine? You don't sense any difference?"
"Am I supposed to?"
She'd performed the jutsu perfectly. After using it so many times, there was no way she wouldn't. Before Hinata could see the paling of her face, Sakura turned away and knelt down, pretending to fix her sandals.
"...No, you aren't," she forced out evenly.
There was only one reason the other signature wasn't there.
Another body fell into the weight that crushed her. A child. The girl was just a child. Kakashi was supposed to protect her… She was supposed to be safe, stationed in base!
Racking her brain, Sakura tried to remember the last time she'd used this transformation.
When had it happened?
In Lightning? During the raids? Had the girl been at a hideout Sakura gave up? She was only genin… She wouldn't have been important enough to take as a prisoner.
Struggling to quell the shake rumbling through her, Sakura stood and fiddled with the jacket's zipper, mind racing.
Was she given a quick death? Did she fight? Did Kakashi see it?
...Did Madara's army use her before putting her out of her misery?
Hinata's voice was quiet in the background. "What's wrong?"
Everything. Everything was wrong. Here she was, playing stow-away and doing laundry, completely unaware a child who'd helped her was dead. Thousands were dead—all because she hadn't been there to save them.
They were dead because of her. Never coming home because of her—
While she got to fret over people yelling mean things at her in the street.
Pathetic. She was absolutely, disgustingly pathetic.
"Sakura?" A gentle hand touched her shoulder.
Its warmth jerked her out of the spiral. Closing her eyes, she rattled off the recipe for soldier pills.
What use was letting this spin her out? Right now, she needed to see Ino. She couldn't get stuck in this room. Couldn't let Hinata watch her fall apart over a transformation.
Painfully swallowing down the guilt, she put on an easy grin, pivoting around as it settled unnaturally into position. "Nothing's wrong. I just thought about something I'd forgotten at the hospital." The lie passed with only a slight pursing of Hinata's lips. "This is a gathering technique that combines a few different jutsu into one…it mixes my signature with another's 'til it's unrecognizable. But I need another person in mind for it to work correctly."
"Oh. I'm sorry. With my eyes, it's a bit difficult for me to—"
"No, no. Not your fault. I just missed a hand sign, like you said. Here, let me fix it." Using Hinata, Sakura recast the jutsu, chest filling out and hair shortening as she placed it. "Can you sense my signature now?"
"Almost…" Hinata's chakra rose as she flicked on her byakugan. "The more I scan it, though, the less familiar it gets. I've never seen something like that before."
"Ino, Kakashi and I created it a few years ago. Think anyone will recognize me?"
"Someone from my clan might notice the resemblance... But if it's just a few seconds, I think you're fine."
Her fake grin was getting heavier. The walls felt like they were closing in. Shadows leached out from Hinata's under her feet, stretching over the floor. Morphing into piles.
"I'm off then." She needed to get out. Needed air. Needed to get away from the look that was hazing into Hinata's expression. "I'll be back in a bit."
Fleeing out the door, Sakura walked as fast as she could to the compound's back entrance, gaze locked on the dirt path before her. Running from the clang of metal and thumping of bodies against dirt.
Things were turning around. The world was righting itself. She couldn't let one child break all the serenity she'd built up over the past few days.
If all it ever took was one, how would she survive the innumerable waiting for her to plunge back into them?
Forty-two, forty-three, fourty-four—she counted her steps to Ino's; the easiest means to distract herself. As the numbers grew higher, the battlefield fell further behind.
And despite her worries, not a single person spared her a second glance as she went. Like this, she was just a nameless woman on the street.
How nice it would be to be this invisible every day, Sakura couldn't help but think. Vendors called out to look at their shops without running over to ask for help moving stock. Mothers skimmed past, no shy requests that she do a quick scan on their children. No one bowed. No one glared.
Birds chirped and friends laughed and the street lights blinked into life.
Rather than crumbling into anarchy with Sasuke Uchiha no longer on trial, Konoha was simply the Konoha it'd always been. His freedom didn't make their lives worse. The town wasn't readying for a battle. Enemies weren't surrounding its gates.
Building rage sloshed in her gut every time her foot hit the ground. What was everyone ranting about when nothing had changed? Why were they so insistent on killing a man who would willingly die for them?
Why had she ever loved this place so much?
Over five hundred steps and a thousand thoughts later, Sakura found herself in front of the flower shop. A closed sign in the window. Knocking on the door, she waited a minute before pushing in and calling out for Ino. The shop was quiet; the lights were off.
Strange, for a Thursday evening—Ino usually kept the place open until eight.
"Ino?" she tried again, strolling into the store. "You there?"
She wandered towards the back room, where Ino kept a small office, steeling herself before opening it. But that, too, was empty.
Brow furrowing, Sakura peered over her shoulder into the showroom.
Maybe Ino went home early. The Yamanakas also voted in favor of the charges; she wasn't keen on going there... If she had to, however, she'd suck it up and make the trip.
There was still one last place to check. The garden. Softly shutting the office, she mazed through shelves and pots of flowers to the rear entrance.
Turning the knob, she repeated, "Ino?" already searching for blond as it swung open.
She found it. Thank God.
Standing with a hose in hand, Ino watered a large pot hugging the fence.
Sakura released the breath she'd been holding, nerves snapping out of the tension. "There you are," she muttered, closing the distance and releasing the transformation. "I've been looking for you."
Gaze on the darkening horizon, the setting sun cast Ino's blue eyes in an eerie yellow. Expression empty, the hose limped in her loose fingers. Water fell out of its mouth into an overflowing, ceramic pot. Bubbling over the surface, soil mixed into it; it drizzled onto the earth underneath.
The image had her lungs hitching just as fast as they'd relaxed.
"Hello?" Sakura grabbed the hose, folding it into itself to stop the water. "Didn't you hear me calling for you?"
Blinking as she turned, Ino glanced from her hand to Sakura's before rising to meet her. "Sakura?"
"Yes. Hi." She studied the shifting emotion on Ino's face. Watched as something smooth fell into place over the listlessness. "What are you doing out here?"
After a beat, Ino rubbed her nose. "...I was tending to the buds and got distracted by the sunset." Her sights slid back to the mountains in the distance. "It's so pretty out here this time of day."
Sakura wasn't sure what to say. Sunsets in Konoha were always beautiful, but that hadn't looked like a woman admiring the sky, nor did the odd resonance of Ino's voice sound very sincere. The water pooling around their feet surely didn't feel like just a distraction.
She could press it. She could use this moment to bridge the gap between them. It would be as easy as saying, You can tell me if something's wrong.
And maybe it would be enough. Maybe they could fix whatever this was together with those seven words.
But seconds of silence passed over them, and Sakura let the sentence flutter away with the breeze. She knew better than anyone how desperately the one telling a white lie prayed for its acceptance. Rather than pry and chisel at the pain, she'd rather wait for Ino to open up on her own.
That much, at least, she could give her.
"It is pretty," Sakura agreed, staring at Ino. "And chilly. Where's your sweater?"
"Hanging up inside. I didn't even notice."
When Ino didn't move, Sakura prompted, "If you're done, let's go back in, then."
"Sure. Let me turn the water off."
Sakura wrapped the hose around its hook on the side of the building once Ino tightened the spigot. They walked back inside, chatting about the shallowest thing Sakura could scrounge up next. The weather, what they'd had for lunch. Small, harmless topic.
Ino felt...frail, somehow. Like anything deeper than that might crack her right open.
Back in the showroom, Ino flicked on the lights. Sakura settled into a chair by the register.
"What's with the jacket?" Ino prodded, smirking while she made her way around the front counter. "Naruto finally convinced you it was cool?"
Sakura chuckled. "Never that. I'm staying with him for a few days so I had to borrow it." How should she explain it? "My kitchen's getting remodeled."
Ino repeated, "My kitchen's getting remodeled," a mocking in her tone. "You sound so old, Sakura. When did you grow up?"
Five years ago, she nearly answered. But that wasn't safe enough for the moment.
"I know. I hate it. Feels like just yesterday we were graduating from the Academy, doesn't it?" she said instead. Harmlessly slipping them past the reality that their childhood died at 16.
"Speaking of the Academy... I hear Sasuke's getting a pardon."
Brows raised, Sakura's vision jumped to Ino's back. She hadn't planned to bring him up—definitely hadn't expected Ino to. But if the subject was open—
"Mostly. He'll still have treason on his record."
"But he's getting out, right?"
"He should be soon. Kakashi's working on the paperwork. He said he won't release him until the Council's fuss dies down some."
Back still to her, Ino drummed her fingers on the counter. Then she turned, a small smile on her face, and rested her chin in her palm.
"Are you happy?"
The question surprised her. Sakura couldn't remember the last time anyone asked her such a thing. Are you okay? Are you doing well? Those were the sorts of inquiries she usually got, and only when she obviously wasn't okay or doing well at all.
It'd been a long time since she truly felt happy. She could barely remember what it felt like, anymore. Frankly, she wasn't sure if happiness was the right way to describe her feelings surrounding Sasuke or Kakashi's decision. Relieved, perhaps. Vindicated.
But happy…? It'd take longer than a single evening to parse out anything resembling an honest answer to that.
Yet the glint in Ino's gaze told Sakura she was looking for something. And even if it wasn't totally candid, Sakura didn't have it in her to deny it.
"Yes, I'm happy," she affirmed quietly, a faint heat crawling up her neck. "He'll finally be home. Really home, this time. Of course, I'm happy."
"Do you think him being out will help you feel better? About...you know—" Ino's hand waved around at nothing. "Everything?"
Maybe this was Ino's attempt at patching things up. It was hard to say, though. The woman, usually so outspoken, seemed to be grasping for the right words in this hushed store.
Maybe she was just uncomfortable talking about Sasuke, still.
"I think so. I mean, I hope so. When he's around..." Sakura had no clue how to phrase it. She didn't know whether Ino would approve if she were honest, either. Settling for an easy middle ground, she finished with, "Since we're sealed in this weird way, having him nearby helps me feel calm. The trial's been stressing me out, too. I already feel better with it out of the picture."
Ino nodded. "That's good to hear. I want you to be happy, Sakura."
"And I want you to be happy," she parroted.
"Well, knowing you'll be taken care of makes me feel better."
Sakura skillfully maneuvered the conversation away from Sasuke after that.
Apparently, Temari was coming to stay in Konoha for a few months. Shikamaru left the day before yesterday to travel back with her. Sakura pretended to be surprised by the news.
Sakura listened as Ino went on and on about the twins she hired from her clan to help in the store. She'd been overwhelmed trying to train them, she explained, exasperated. They'd never worked a day in their lives. They weren't shinobi, so they didn't understand the nuances of rank and command. Only civilians were willing to take the job, however, so she was stuck with them.
Forced to micromanage everything they touched, Ino hadn't found the time to visit her once she heard the news. It didn't bother her in the least, Sakura assured. She, too, hadn't found the time to stop by—despite having plenty of it to do so. The last part, she kept to herself.
And the longer they talked, the less worried Sakura felt.
Ino may cry some days, and act odd when uncomfortable topics arose, but none of that was surprising. Nor was it novel. The war had changed everyone. Ino, Shikamaru, herself—they'd never be those innocent kids of five years ago. The three of them had taken on so much responsibility, so young. Accepted too much duty to ever go back.
She was just a little different now, was all. A little more subdued. A little less sociable. But Ino was still Ino, even on her bad days. Even right now in her flower shop—she was warm and engaging as she'd ever been.
One strange interaction didn't mean the world was ending. If anyone held Sakura to that standard, the whole universe would've combusted a hundred times over.
As night pressed against the windows and the clock chimed eight, Ino stood with a stretch and followed her to the front door with the key.
"I'm really glad you came by tonight, Sakura."
"Me, too. I've missed you. I'll start coming for lunch again when everything calms down."
"Right. Lunch." Ino smiled. "You know I love you, right?"
"What's that for, Pig?" Leaning in for a hug, Sakura breathed in sweet lilac. "Feeling sentimental?"
Ino squeezed her tight. "I'm serious, Forehead. Even through everything, you were always my best friend. I wish we could've had better times, but I still loved the parts I got with you. You know that, don't you?"
"Stop that, you'll make me cry." She patted Ino's back with a quick laugh before pulling away. "It's only been like a week and a half, anyway. You make it sound like we didn't hang out for years."
Ino searched her face with a frown. "I don't want you to cry. I just want you to know how much you mean to me."
"Yes, I know I'm your favorite person ever, don't worry. And now that we're home, we can start making new memories. Starting with our lunches!" Smirking, she pinched Ino's cheek. "Are we having a moment?"
"If we were, it's over! I said what I wanted to say, so don't forget it. Now I'm tired and it's late. You should've come earlier if you wanted to stand around teasing me."
"Alright, alright, stop pushing me. I'm going." Sakura walked onto the steps, tugging on Naruto's jacket.
"Oh, I nearly forgot. I've got something of yours at my house." Ino leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. "I'll put it on the top shelf of the dresser in my bedroom. Grab it the next time you come by."
"Bring it to me instead," she countered. "I'm not going to remember."
"Try to. Bedroom dresser. Top shelf."
"You're being difficult. Just bring it to Naruto's place. I'll be there for another—"
"Okay. I got it," Ino interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I'll bring it by."
Sakura cast the transformation. Morphed back into pseudo-Hinata. Briefly, she wondered if Ino knew about the girl; wondered if she should mention it.
It didn't seem like the sort of thing to end on, though.
Rather than touch the beast, Sakura asked, "What is it?"
"You'll find out later."
"Is it bad? Why are you being so secretive?"
"It's not bad. You worry too much. It's just a little keepsake I found." Ino shrugged. "I thought you might want it, one day."
Groaning, Sakura made to enter the store again. "Ugh, you're killing me. Tell me what it is!"
Ino blocked her path with a firm arm. "It's a red bow I used to tie your hair with all the time. See? I told you—you worry too much."
"Oh! I do want that," Sakura said quickly, grinning as she stepped back.
"Will you remember where I put it now that you know what it is?"
"Why would I need to remember when you know where it is? And you're bringing it to me, anyway."
"Yep. I will." Removing her hand from the doorframe, Ino shooed her away. "This is bordering on loitering at this point, Forehead. Won't you let me close up and go home?"
"Yes, fine. You're always so fast to make me leave," Sakura grumbled. Turning on her heel, she zipped up the orange abomination. "I love you, too, by the way. Even though you're kicking me out."
"Top shelf of my dresser."
"Bring it to me! I'll see you soon."
As she started the path back to Naruto's, Ino called out a soft, "Bye, Sakura. Be safe."
The words brought a smile to her face. This time around, she didn't duck her head to hide from the passersby. Naruto and Hinata were happy together. Kakashi had finally made a decision. Shikamaru was coming home with Temari. Sasuke would soon be out of the dungeons. Ino was still Ino, dedicated and hardworking as always.
And maybe things were turning around, after all.
.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading