Sakura

by lilac haze

AU. Non-Canon. Time Travel. Please see inside for full warnings. Cross posted on Ao3. On his deathbed he was granted eternal peace and place to rest for all of time. Of course that was not appealing to him. Ever unpredictable to the end he had a counter offer. One that the Sage had to consider. In which Sakura's going to have a rough time. A really rough time.

9. Part Nine: Agitator

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

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Warnings: Language and length (a lot of words...)

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A/N:

Thank you all for taking the time to read, favorite and follow. And special thanks to those who took time to leave your thoughts! Your reviews are the pulse of this story. It tells me what works and what doesn't. Sorry for the delay in posting. I ended up adding a mini-arch which meant writing new content instead of just doing some cosmetic things. I hope you enjoy the addition. I think it adds to the story but again, you're the judge.

I will try to have the next part within a week but again, I am writing new content. So there will likely be delays. Thank you for your patience.

Let's get on with it!

~L.H.

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Part 9: Agitator

She could not read him - even less than what was considered within the realm of normality, it was outside the acceptable variance. In the time she had stood there in response to his summon, she had practically gnawed through her bottom lip. It was red and raw, not unlike her nerves. She could feel the frayed endings sending jolts of pain in between each wave of panic. In this room - when she was contained in these four dark walls made of cherry wood - there was no concept of morality, much less fairness. Only one opinion - and one viewpoint - mattered. And it was not her own.

Factually speaking, she was endorsed. Factually speaking, he had been the one to endorse her. Factually speaking, he threw his weight behind her publically in a room full of powerful men. Factually speaking, they had seen his lips move and heard his voice say her name.

Allegedly, she had failed. It was not confirmed by a source she trusted what happened in the capital but rumor was rampant. Everyone in Konoha was in the midst of slapping the newly minted Yondaime's shoulder with sparkling eyes and wide smiles. Allegedly, she had failed to be granted the post of Hokage. Allegedly, she embarrassed him by not securing the nomination, Orochimaru failing to do the same was neither here nor there. Danzo could not go against the Sannin. He would not stand a chance. So naturally, any anger or ire he would have would be collected and saved for her. She was the one to receive it all - the combined amount.

Potentially.

Silence was her only ally as she awaited her fate. Confirmation from a source she begrudgingly trusted. Just in this very specific context at this point in time and not a modicum more.

"The Yondaime has been named," his words hung heavily in the air before settling around her neck like a noose she could feel but not see. The dark shroud of ignorance was over her head for him to lift. The cost of enlightenment ran the risk of being something she could not afford. The invisible rope tightened around her airways.

"Na-"

She released a breath she was holding as he said the first syllables, inwardly. A cool shudder moved down her spine; felt all the way down to her toes.

"-mikaze Minato."

His name has never sounded more beautiful to her than it did just now. Loris's bowed head dipped a little more in relief. The snake had not lied to her, the rat just confirmed it.

Her silence was resounding. Relief was but a guest, of the sort that was never one to visit her long. She traded one potential adversity for another. She stood bent and bowed waiting for him to do as he pleased. The ink on her tongue burned. She could feel it. It was complete and absolute. Her demise went everywhere she did. It was almost as innate as Inner.

"He knows Loris's face," Danzo uttered the question in the form of a statement. He was not one to make assumptions or guesses. He knew exactly how many steps were required to bring someone down. He knew where all the skeletons were buried.

"Yes, Shimura-sama." Her voice was without texture or signs of life. It was detached.

"You were too sentimental in picking your mask," he narrowed his eye, fixating it on the white porcelain with the weight of his disdain woven with accusation. "It was the first conversation you had with him, was it not?"

That's not why.

It was not the only reason why.

"Yes. But that is not why he knows." She took the initiative to begin to explain. It was better than him having to ask, having him assume what was in his head was the truth. Even if it was, partially.

"I healed him as Cat during a rescue. He's familiar with my chakra signature." It felt as if her tongue was coated with tacky sludge. It felt dirty to cheapen her memories. But the Yamanaka that had pulled them out of her head had seen them and he himself had eliminated all doubt in her body that each and every detail was laid out for him. "And he's always been-"

"Shrewd." Danzo turned around. His hands were behind his back and empty, in no hurry to form a lone seal that would end her. She was safe from retaliation, from a form of physical punishment.

For now.

He would never allow her to get comfortable. He would never allow her to feel as if she was on solid footing.

Loris showed up in Root right around the time Cat disappeared from ANBU. There was no other female in all of Root. There were barely a dozen operatives - the numbers were never confirmed in a ledger - one she had yet to find - but she had her records tucked away in her head. They had lost some in the war. It did not take a genius to put two and two together. Loris was what Cat died to become. Loris was one of Cat's nine lives. Maybe she was currently living Cat's ninth. It did not matter all that much.

"You will remain in the village. No missions until things stabilize after the transition."

He wants to keep a low profile.

He's worried about us. He's worried about Minato.

He should be.

It makes it harder if he is.

Since when has that stopped you before?

The silence was a shared answer for both entities that inhabited the space; for the one outside and the one inside. The silence did not speak for the way her stomach was in her toes.

No missions. No freedom. No opportunity to investigate. No progress. It was that simple. She was making no progress.

Is he covering for Orochimaru? Making it harder for me to go after him? Does he know? Do they talk about me?

The thought was horrifying.

Could be. Or he's just a paranoid fuck.

Danzo should like Minato. Minato embodies everything he claims to represent.

But he endorsed you.

The permutations and combinations had her head spinning until it reached the point of splitting.

"Keep an ear out."

Loris bowed and took her leave unable to shake the dread that gripped her.

I got off too easy.

The sentiment plagued her mind, not allowing her to sleep.

---

"And now as we usher in a new era…," Minato lowered his head, shaking it once before sighing. The lines of dissatisfaction etched along his forehead. He inhaled to try again, picking up where the section he was less than completely confident began. "And now," he emphasized with more color in his tone. "As we usher in…no," he smoothed the lines of tension on his brow with slow, deliberate hand movements. "That's not it either," he murmured.

The gravity of the moment was not missed by him. It was his first act - his speech as the new leader, the new face of the village. He wanted to put his best foot forward. For his people, for his village. For those he swore to protect. The words that he rehearsed last night in the four walls of the spare room in his home, the ones that had been vetted and met the criteria to be committed to ink, felt so hollow now in the light of day. It felt different with the moment upon them all.

"And now," he grimaced, holding back a groan, chin pointing to the ceiling. A curtain of sunshine yellow hair fell past his ears, grazing his shoulders.

"Nervous?" She asked in a bright voice. An annoyingly bright voice - to over-compensate for the tight knot in the pit of her stomach - disrupted the silence of unease. His shoulders tensed up just at the sound of this version of her. She was leaning back against the pale wall. A pool of sharp contrast - the white over the yards of draped black, the splash of red marring the pristine white - against the beige. She eyed the small room. Much too small. Much too cramped. A little too boring. A little too bland. It was definitely not his new office.

"No," he did not look up from his cue cards. He adjusted their order.

She could hear the tightness in his voice. She chose not to read into it. Going down rabbit holes that were left in her path by Namikaze Minato was not a productive use of time. The very time that was running out for both of them. He had a place he needed to be. A whole village awaited him eagerly, jostling for the best seats for the best view of the monumental occasion so that they could claim hours, days, and years from now that they were there with a sense of accomplishment. There at the inauguration of the greatest Hokage who ever lived. Until his son took both from him.

"You should really look into improving the security in this place." She frowned under her mask, unable to help herself. It left much to be desired. The man was distracted. Mistakes happen in such circumstances. He needed better support. Protocol. There needed to be layers of protection. No single point of failure. The village needed to move beyond relying on Minato to cover up all their mistakes. She was not impressed in the slightest by the ANBU supposedly watching over him.

"Just anyone could walk in here."

"You're not just anyone." He lowered the cards to his side. "Do you have something helpful to say?"

His curtness was warranted but she was still not used to this shift in their interactions. But maybe she needed more practice. This was only the first time she was in his immediate vicinity since that night on her rooftop. Since before he was a married man.

Get to the point. Message received.

"Don't forget to thank the Uchiha for their contribution in ending the war and," she ran her tongue along her bottom teeth, an action obscured by her white mask with round ears and red marking. "For…," she paused for dramatic effect, "their efforts in ushering in a new era of peace." The smirk she wore was audible in her tone.

Sakura registered the perplexed look on his face. It was muted but its presence was undeniable. It melted away before her eyes just in time for his stoic mask to reclaim its place. Not much could keep him off-kilter.

"I can't forget something I never considered."

His admission brought a frown to her face. "Quite the oversight on your part," she buffed her gloved hand against her chest plate just to give herself something to do other than drown in his gaze or get swept up in her thoughts. "That's not like you."

"But it is like you, to not give me a straight answer," he crossed his arms. The severity of his frown reminded her of a chastising parent. "People want change. People want unity. People want to move on. People need hope that tomorrow will be better than today."

People needed to have an example that they could look to, an example that said anyone could be Hokage. An example that proved the position was not tied to something as chance as birth. To whom you were born and with what abilities. He was that example. That hard work, dedication, and yes some talent, could be enough to reach this pinnacle. He was proof that bloodlines were not the end all be all. As was she.

Anyone could be Hokage. That was the message he wanted to push across. That was the message he wanted them to all go to sleep with at night in their heads.

"How do you think it would go over when the first Hokage, not from a clan, thanks the largest clan in Konoha? It would be seen as more of the same. The status-quo. It will set the tone. I'd be putting an end to my kageship before it even began." He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it but somehow it still worked. It was far from unruly. He was still completely put together. Not a wrinkle on his vest, pants, or shirt, beyond the lines left by his silver bands over his shirt, at his wrists, and just before the crook of his elbows.

So dramatic.

"Are you scared of a bunch of moving mouths?" Sakura asked him flippantly. She peered at him through narrowed eyes.

When did your skin get so thin?

"What aren't you telling me?" He countered levelly, rising above. Always rising above her. "Should I be keeping an eye out on them?" The very eyes he spoke up narrowed in focus as he tried to read her just as she did him.

So much for being patient.

"What I am telling you, is that I hope you consider it. Because it will cost you nothing but you could aim to gain so much." She answered cryptically. She allowed herself just a second to take in his expression. It was guarded, closed-off, and unreadable. She did not linger because that would open possibilities for follow-up questions. And she was not ready to tip her hand.

He needed a clean desk and a clear head. He needed to step away from the shadow cast by the three faces already on the monument. He needed to stay in the light, where he belonged for all to see and admire.

He was a beacon; for change, for renewal, for hope. He was the hope for a better tomorrow. He was the hope that the world she would willingly leave behind would not be the same one she was reborn into. He could be the reason the shinobi world could undo a rebirth. He could do that. She believed he could do that.

You just need better friends. Allies.

Not many. Just a few in the right places. Ones he could trust as much as a shinobi could trust anyone. She believed the Uchiha had a place in that circle that was to be forged. So, the only Uchiha she wanted Minato to worry about was the one Madara corrupted. Just that one, the rest were her responsibility.

The world warped around her as she left the room behind. It did not take her long to settle into the crevices of the Hokage Monument. It was a picturesque morning. The sky was a clear blue, there were big puffy white clouds littered about. The birds sang. The people of the village clamored. Even The Academy had the morning off so that the students could be in the crowd. It was not a Wednesday but it would not surprise her if the children from the orphanage also were in attendance. Shops had the letters spelling out the word 'CLOSED' facing the streets. The village was a ghost town. All eyes would be on him. He did not need hers to be counted in the tally. It was her way of alleviating the pressure off of him somewhat, no matter how minute. She opened the pressure valve just as much as she could.

That was the excuse for her absence. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact of who would be standing next to him, at his shoulder, as he delivered his address. No, that was just an inconsequential detail that did not matter in the slightest. It was more favorable for her to lie to herself than to admit the truth because then she would be accepting the fact that she was a coward.

It was hard to imagine a more perfect morning for the handoff. Maybe it was her paranoia but four clones watched vigilantly along the parameters of the village - one going as far out as fifteen miles. She did not question it. She did what she had to to alleviate some of the nerves she felt. No one was going to ruin this morning. The one thing she was not concerned with was missing a word. The speakers that had gone up were more than adequate to carry his voice. The jutsu around the village ensured it would reach every nook and cranny all the while remaining contained. The increased blood flow to her eardrum was overkill but again, she was who she was and today was a big day. She closed her eyes and crossed her ankles. She had started to doze off in the warm sun when the gravelly voice of the Sandaime pulled her back into the realm of consciousness.

The soon-to-be former Hokage's five-minute spiel gave her just the grace period she needed to refocus and remove all traces of sleep from her person. She held her breath when there was a moment of silence and loud feedback from the mic that had her grimacing. Her heart slammed against her ribcage. So loudly that she had to force her chakra to regulate it for her, she ran the risk of not being able to hear even with the hearing enhancement jutsu. She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her kneecap. Her lips were slightly parted; eyes blinking faster than their normal rate. She listened to every word intently. Her lips pulled into a smile when he thanked the clans - starting with the Uchiha.

There was something worth hoping for after all.

Congratulations, Minato-kun.

The deafening applause that was slow to reach her, welcomed the Yondaime with exuberance and glee, signified the start of a new era of peace.

---

"You're around a lot more."

An observation of his presented in a way if interpreted by a stranger or an acquaintance could lead to some friction but as she was neither, she did not take offense.

"Hm," she hummed in agreement. "The war is over. Villages are focusing inward on healing and rebuilding right now. Everyone is kind of taking inventory, I suppose." That was her belief at least. "Is that a problem? Me being around so much?" Loris asked, holding the paper bag containing groceries to her chest. The thought had not occurred to her prior to this moment. She had just assumed - she chanced a glance at the teen - perhaps incorrectly.

"No," Kakashi shrugged nonchalantly, burning the cloud of doubt that surrounded her with the complete sentence contained in one syllable. He slipped his key into the lock of his front door. "Just making conversation." Based on an observation.

She smiled. "There's room for improvement."

Kakashi scoffed. "You're one to talk." He slipped out of his navy standard-issue sandals. He used his toes to lift them to the top row of the empty three-tier bamboo shoe rack. He took the bag from her.

Loris bent down to peel off her black boots. She set them against the rack, neatly. She straightened his sandals so they rested pressed against each other before stepping off the genkan and onto the clean wooden floors.

"I'm sure we can come up with better topics," she mused. "Maybe we can make a list?" She offered helpfully.

Kakashi sighed, shaking his head. "You just love making more work for yourself, don't you?"

"We all have our things," she clicked her tongue moving toward the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Kakashi set the bag on the slate-gray countertops. She could hear him begin to rummage through it.

"Are the others coming?"

"Just me and you tonight," Kakashi answered, pausing from his task. There was silence and pause, almost hesitant in nature. "Is that okay?" He asked in a small voice.

"It's more than okay," Loris said over the sound of the running water. While Kakashi's mask hid his smile, Loris recognized it from the curve of his eyes. She did not comment beyond the silent one of her smile behind her mask. She wiped her hands with the yellow dish towel that he held out for her.

---

She did not quite understand the question. But that was hardly new. Everything with him was a facade. There was always an angle. A game within a game. And while she had years of experience dealing with it there was always a moment of trepidation, of self-doubt that she either thought too much or too little about her approach.

"There is none," Loris answered the question honestly, levelly. "There is no relationship between the Yondaime and me."

Danzo rubbed his chin reproachfully, giving nothing away if she passed or failed. Maybe it was not a test at all. Her paranoia knew no bounds, just as her ability to shoulder disappointment. She had been hoping for a mission when she got the summon but all signs pointed away from that particular path.

"I was under the impression that the man was fond of you."

Was, being the operative word.

"Whatever fondness that he did have, is long gone." She did not shift in her posture or her stance. She gave him nothing additional to leverage or a crack to crawl under so he could fester and affect her life any more than he already did.

"A relic of the past." Her eyes hardened behind her mask. She could visualize the Sharingan that had once lined his arms. The sight that killed all ability to think critically in one Uchiha Sasuke. She focused on the bandage that hid the one he did have. The one she had no context as to how so it was left up to her imagination which was a very dangerous situation.

Dial it back.

I know what I'm doing.

She bit back but she pulled the spike in killing intent that almost broke the barrier of her skin, just in time.

"Good," the man misread the reason behind her anger. "I am granting his request."

"His request?" Loris blinked in confusion, her stoic mask slipping in a way that the porcelain could not shroud her.

"The Yondaime requested that you be instituted in his guard. And I agree."

H-he what?

What did he do?!

"Do I not bring value to Root anymore, Shimura-sama?" She asked him quickly, she was in the beginning stages of reeling. The unsettled nature of her voice was not feigned. She needed to be out of the village. She had to take care of the rest of the bases. She had to stop him from building more; to stop him from kidnapping more victims. She had to help Jiraiya track down leads on who Madara was using. She could not afford to be stagnant in the village.

She would suffocate in the village. The air was hostile. It was killing her slowly. Only Rin, Obito, Kakashi, and Anko sustained her enough to survive another day. She needed a change in environment. She needed control - of the situation, of herself, of her emotions. She needed to get out.

She was in very real danger of spiraling. She could feel her composure crack, loudly. It echoed in her head. All those minutes on her knees that added up to hours - hours of her life - subjecting herself to this man - to this monster…for what? Wasted? Fruitless? For not a Kami-damned thing?

Why are you being an obstacle again, Minato?

Why is the rat bastard agreeing? That's what I want to know.

From the rumors the fake death of the Ame Orphans had been convincing, so much so that Toshi told her that Tsunade wrote to Jiraiya to express her condolences. No one dug further into Kiri being responsible for the butcher of three thousand Iwa nin. Every mission she completed, if not to expectation, she had a workaround. A different solution that was tolerable.

What had she done wrong? Where had she misstepped? How could she stumble when she was so close? So, so, so close?

How? How? How?

"You have forgotten the first principle of Root," his voice was as unforgiving as his gaze. Disgust. Contempt. He was disgusted at her display of weakness. His lip was upturned and cruel. "You are my tool. You will be used how I deem fit. You are all replaceable. It would do you good to remember that."

She fell to a knee quickly. She felt lightheaded, weak, and nauseous. "Yes, Shimura-sama." Sakura glared at the ground, her jaw tensing to the point her teeth ached from the strain.

"You may or may not have fondness for him but it is clear that he is not as apt as you at cutting bonds. He trusts you. I trust you to see the opportunity in this. Be wise in who you choose to trust, Loris." Danzo turned his back to her slowly. He pulled some paper towards him. His voice held disinterest. "I expect weekly updates. And I still reserve the right to send you on missions. Do not get soft."

Comfortable. You mean don't get comfortable.

"Yes, Shimura-sama."

Something dark and sinister settled between her bones. Heavy.

"Dismissed."

She flashed out of the room, her fists itched to punch something. She needed an outlet for her anger before the boulder that rocked back and forth above her head crushed her.

---

She did not know if it was human nature, duality, or what, but she found herself as she walked to the door of the familiar tower, wishing she was wearing a different face. She found her thoughts swirling around the idea. But that face - her actual face - walking to the tower - while not common - was not completely out of the ordinary. It was mundane. But the face she wore now - surrounded by layers of black fabric - was very much out of place here even though she had a reason - a purpose - behind her presence. It was not backed by logic but it almost felt like she was doing something wrong. Corrupting the sanctity of what the building could represent - could be - just by bringing her donned face into it.

She had skipped breakfast. It was a purposeful decision, not one born out of poor time management or lack of forethought to restock her fridge and cabinets. She had not slept - that had been unintentional. She stared up at her peeling, cracked ceiling rehearsing - over and over and over again - what she would say to him.

What could she say to him? Wake up? Hello? Who do you think you are? Why are you doing this to me? What are you trying to do?

She walked, with her stomach knotted with worry; with anxiety. Despite being responsible - tasked with - for bringing about change, she did not care for it all too much when she was the one affected. She did not like change to be enacted on her - imposed on her.

This is one way to break up the monotony, I suppose.

She enjoyed her training sessions with Rin and Anko, as well as sparring with Team Seven. She did. She really did. But what had once been a necessary evil born out of necessity, now became a need. Her need to feel alive - adrenaline rushing through her veins - blood pumping, and breathing up and down. She wanted danger. She wanted to court it. And not in the way she was already flirting with it. Not the everlasting kind where she could be killed remotely by the activation of the seal on her tongue. Or the one where her identity could be found out at any time. The mindless kind. The kind she saw in the war. The kind that she did not have to think or prepare for. The kind where all she had to do was check the hitai-ate before checking the face for recognition before she gave herself the green light. She missed it. She sorely missed it.

Stop torturing yourself with what you can't have.

Surely she would learn to heed Inner's advice one of these days, right?

She stopped moving with her right foot a step above her left. Her brow furrowed as she detected signatures contained on the last door on the left, at the end of the hall.

Did I get the time wrong?

How could you have? You only read the scroll four times!

How could she read it any less? It was the first thing in years she had seen with his handwriting on it. For her. Her sentimentality was something she could not snuff out or correct. Just as future Sakura had a box she kept under her bed with her team's photograph along with mementos - a stub from a movie she and Naruto managed to convince Kaka-sensei and Sasuke to see through a week of non-stop pestering, Sasuke's hitai-ate that Naruto brought back, the dried flowers she had pressed from Sasuke's prolonged hospital stay when he was placed under a genjutsu by his brother - this Sakura had one too. But it was all in her head. That was where she committed his text - his summon - to memory. It was the first mission scroll she received from the Yondaime…she had to. She had to do it.

She moved up the stairs finishing the last half twice as fast as the first. Her heart was thundering in her chest. She picked up a gloved hand that slipped through the slit in her raven cloak, curled it, and brought it to the center of the door. His voice called out from behind it. Beckoning her to enter. It was louder than her thumping heart somehow. Her stomach clenched; another loop tightened itself into a knot.

She moved her hand to the doorknob, she twisted, and pulled open the door. Her head was already bowed before she even entered the room. It was out of the realization of her mistake - she told herself - and not out of her cowardice of being unable to look at him.

"My apologies for being late, Hokage-sama," her modified voice called out, door knob still in her hand and feet on the other side of the threshold.

"You're not," he said flatly. His cobalt eyes darted to the clock just above her head. Over the very door, she had yet to enter. "You're early."

Her mask protected her from everyone seeing the confusion flit across her face. If that was truly the case, and she saw no reason for him to lie and she had only checked the scroll four times - as Inner pointed out - why was she the last one there?

She had deliberately given herself a five-minute window. She needed to talk to him. To convince him that this was a bad, bad idea. Really bad. She did not have all the details figured out, all the words in her head lined up in neat little rows ready for her tongue to send them off - that was part of the reason why she did not sleep all that well. But there was consensus in thought and in her sentiment. She was going to back out - respectfully. Graciously. Humbly. She was better suited elsewhere - in Root - watching over the one that needed to be watched. He would understand. Even if he did not, he would respect her decision. He could not force her to leave Root behind. She could not afford to leave Root behind. After all, this was the desk she could say no to right? That was what he had told her.

Don't just stand there, bent. Move!

Inner's rough voice had her reacting. Loris dipped her head once more in a meaningless action. No one was looking at her. They were all looking at him. In his white cloak, arms crossed, face serious, and stance commanding attention and respect. She stepped over the invisible barrier that only she saw and began to make her way to the first open slot. Right next to the ANBU closest to her. The one with a navy blue mask.

"Loris-san," the Yondaime's voice had her halting her movements yet again. "On my right, please."

She was trapped. Caught - torn - between obeying and her own hesitation. He was completely unreadable. And that had her all out of sorts. Even less in control than she had been just moments prior. She tried not to let the hesitation - the timidness she felt - carry into her movements rendering them anything but nonchalant. She dared not ask the voice in her head nor chance a glance at the four other bodies in the room for cues to how successful she was. Her feet came to a stop next to him, with a respectable gap between them. Shoulder to shoulder. She stared past the various colors against the stark white to watch the second hand of the clock move.

Tick.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin." Calm was his tone and low was the tenor of his voice and yet it spoke louder than any battle cry. It carried command. It made her stomach jump. "As the scrolls each of you received explained, you are tasked with being the Hokage Guard. The Old Guard - the Sandaime's - will officially still serve their post until the determination has been made that the New Guard can carry on the responsibilities to the standard deemed fit." He paused.

She tried not to fidget when she felt her skin prick at being the focus of his gaze. It was mercifully only for a second. His head never moved.

"A standard determined by Loris-san. She will be your taichou, the leader of this guard."

Shit.

She nearly, nearly hung her head. Inner groaned loudly because Sakura could not.

So much for that.

He cut her off at the knees before she could even have a chance to see the light under the layers of obligation, perception, optics, and scandal he buried her under. Like a mudslide it happened so fast and without any prior warning.

She was left dazed.

How did this happen?

"Loris-san?"

She inwardly cursed, darkly. She turned her neck to look in his direction but not at him. Never directly at him. He was the sun. She would go blind if she did. He was injurious to her health. She dipped her head in silent invitation for him to continue.

"Do your best. I'm counting on you."

She bit the inside of her cheek. She tasted blood on her tongue. She lowered the fall of her head, bending at the hip. A display of her humility at being given this great responsibility. She did not trust her voice.

"Together," he was not done piling on. He wanted to make sure that she could not move - escape the onslaught.

Her teeth were painted red with the brush of her tongue against them. Her anger simmered. Building but never quite reaching its peak. She waited. Not moving. Not thinking. Not even blinking.

"I hope we can work together to keep the village safe and do great things."

She swallowed her saliva with the metallic taste, lubricating her throat. Her lips parted. She stared past him with her neck still curved. She closed her eyes and willed herself to remain in control. Of just her voice. Of just her words. It was not much of an ask. But it felt gargantuan all the same.

She pushed air out of her mouth, falling into line, falling into a pattern. "Of course, Hokage-sama."

"Your training starts today," he announced to the room filled with masks. Including his own. "Thank you for your time and thank you for your commitment."

Loris vanished from the room. She was not worried that they would misunderstand. They were ANBU. They would find her at Training Ground Six where she was waiting for them. If they did not, then she would have a whole slew of new troubles. What moved to the top of her list, was a name she had not even considered. The Yondaime. He was her biggest problem and she did not see him coming.

We have to worry about him too now?

When did you stop worrying about him, Sakura?

She did not answer Inner. She did not have an answer for Inner that she cared to admit to. So instead, she used the undisclosed amount of time to collect her racing thoughts.

Now what?

---

"So," she drew out the sound of the word. "Let me get this straight," she held up her index finger only to tap it against her cheek. Slowly. Repeatedly. Drawing out the period in which her unofficial sensei - unbeknownst to her - held her breath. "You got demoted?"

This girl is going to be the death of me.

Loris shook her head. "No. I was reassigned. Into the Hokage's Guard." She explained for the third time in a completely different way.

It's temporary…maybe, I'm working on it.

"Right…," Anko sucked air through her teeth. The slight gap between the two front ones caused a slight whistling sound. "And because of that a clone has to train me?"

"During the morning and afternoon sessions, yes," Loris nodded her head, encouraged by the fact that the girl retained at least that much. It was progress. Anko's attention span was about as vast as a goldfish's. Very, very, very shallow. And that was just one challenge.

"You're not bailing on me?" She scrunched her face in the lines of mild suspicion. "You're not just saying all this because you're not woman enough to tell me the truth?"

I like her. We like her, right?

Loris ignored Inner in favor of giving Anko her undivided attention. "Absolutely not. I mean it. You won't notice a difference. My clone will hold lessons at our usual time. Anytime you want to spar in the evenings, I'll be there. But you need your sleep also, Anko-chan. And you'll have your weekly sessions with Team Seven. That won't change." She shuffled on her feet. "Just try to dial back the blood-drinking and blood-sucking comments, okay? Obito-kun doesn't appreciate your brand of humor. It makes him uncomfortable."

Anko frowned. "What? You're telling me you're not curious if inbreed blood tastes different?"

Loris brought her hand to her forehead and shook her head. "Anko-chan, we've talked about this, ad nauseam." She nearly begged the girl to give up and agree. She was so tired of fighting and clawing for everything.

Mercy. Please.

The purple-haired girl blew a raspberry. "When did everyone turn into a bunch of weenies?"

Loris did not comment. It was a step up from Anko calling everyone a pussy. Maybe. She was so turned around that she was not sure anymore.

"Okay," Loris sighed looking around the clearing. "Any questions?"

"Nope," Anko blinked at her slowly.

"None at all?" Her pink brows rose up her hairline almost disappearing completely. "You didn't do the reading," she translated what Anko meant in a dry colorless tone.

"I didn't do the reading," Anko said shamelessly. Unabashed and unbothered. "Has the Hokage ever had a female ANBU in his guard before?"

"I don't know," Loris answered distractedly. She reached into her hip pouch. Her hands curled around a scroll. "ANBU was not always open to kunoichi. The Nidaime believed they would be a hindrance and not an asset." Something about being a distraction to the men, working in such close quarters.

"It was the Sandaime who made the change." He also was the one to bring about seduction missions she came to learn but Anko did not need to know that. She remembered the Sandaime as the rest of the village did, fondly.

"The current old guard does not have a woman in it. Two of them had been around since day one of his reign. So probably not." She pulled the scroll from the pouch and held it at her side.

"So you're like the first?" Anko asked, bored. She thought about it for a moment. "Cool," she grinned. "You may just not be the most boring adult out there."

"Thanks," Loris deadpanned. She held out the scroll. "Read this."

"Another one?" Anko slumped forward. "What makes you think this will be the one that I can actually get through? Or are you just trying to prove how stubborn you are?"

"Open the scroll," Loris commanded gently.

Anko stared at her for a long time without moving, barely even blinking. She reached out a hand slowly. She took the scroll with a look of trepidation that was not completely masked. She sighed before opening the scroll. Her jaw went slack at the large characters written with three or four spaces between them. Never more than five on a vertical line. A massive waste of both ink and space. Her purple eyes rose to Loris's mask, searching.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Anger from hurt pride bled in.

"Touch the characters," Loris responded with calm.

Anko's brow furrowed. Distrust appeared in the depths of her eyes. She blew out air and touched her finger to the first character on the right. The heat from the contact warmed the ink characters. A lilted voice read it out loud. Her eyes widened.

"Loris-sensei?" She gasped as understanding hit her.

"It shouldn't hold you back," Loris's voice was without judgment and most important pity. "You can go at your pace, Anko-chan." Dyslexia was not recognized by The Academy. They had no reason to as long as the students learned the three jutsu needed to pass, they could care less if they could actually read or not. Anko memorized a lot of characters to get by - just enough to pass. The girl was not dumb, far from it in reality. She was resourceful. She was stubborn. She was tenacious.

"You wrote this," Anko's lips were set in a frown. "You sealed your voice in it…all for me?" She shook her head. "Why?" She croaked.

"You're serious about getting stronger. I'm serious about helping you do so," Loris answered. "You need this information to get the-"

"I'll read it," Anko cut her off, clearing her throat roughly. She turned her head away to hide her too-bright eyes. Glistening with emotion she would never admit to. "I'll read it. I'll learn it. And I'll have questions for next time." She held the rolled-up scroll tightly to her chest.

Loris nodded her head. "This is a good thing for us, Anko-chan," she said, convincing herself as much as the girl. "We'll have more stability. We'll adapt."

"Right, Sensei." Anko nodded her head. Her resolve spoke through her.

---

Three steps. She was always three steps behind him. His stride was longer than hers. He was in a hurry. Always in a hurry. Keeping her waiting. Showing her his back. Always moving further and further away.

To get away from me. So why is he keeping me here? Where I can see him. Where I can hear him. But always out of arm's reach. Why?

"Not now, Loris-san," he dismissed her again, not even looking at her.

"It will only take a minute, Hokage-sama." She needed to talk to him. For just a minute, that was all she needed. It would spare her from screaming into her bedroom - made soundproof with a seal - until her throat was sore and her voice hoarse. Or nursing a bottle up to the point she had just enough wits about herself that she could manage to undo her hangover when she awoke the next morning still smelling of and with the consequences from the night before. The jutsu she developed nullified the very distinctive smell from her breath, from her pores, from her person so that no one was any the wiser. No one tangible, that was. Just one minute could avoid all that aggravation, the very kind he was the root of.

"I don't have that." He pulled open a door and stepped inside.

Wait!

The door clicked closed. The slab of walnut wood was as unyielding as the Yondaime's stance. Sakura's fist curled at her side. Blunt nails nearly cut open her skin through her gloves, she was clenching it so tight. She crushed the white envelope to pulverized dust.

---

She narrowed her eyes at the four masks surrounding her target. The one to her left had purple markings around the eyes and nose: Panda. The one to her right was Stork, his beak and markings were green. Jackal - a mask with brown markings and pointy triangular ears - was behind Stork. And finally Goat. His markings were navy. The other members of the would-be Hokage Guard. Her teammates. Ones she did not pick but she was responsible for vetting and training.

"Formation Firebird," Loris said through her mask. They would work their way up from code names to letters. Letters provided more ambiguity. They were harder to memorize. Less was not always more. "Don't let me touch Falcon," she commanded into the wind.

Falcon - the target. His ANBU name, which was retired, suited being his code name for his guard. The fastest animal in the world did hail from that family. A shadow clone, wearing the face of the Yondaime, stood right in the middle of the four points. A perfect square. They maintained the purpose of the formation - sometimes it stretched to a rectangle or a diamond. The wind moved through her cloak.

The day they did not let her touch Falcon while not breaking formation over the period of five minutes was the day she would deem them ready. That was the standard she demanded.

Five minutes. Because the Yondaime could do a whole lot in five minutes, that was all he needed.

She flashed, pleased with the way they tensed up. Their bodies were coiled in anticipation.

They're learning.

Maybe they'll be able to last thirty seconds with you this time.

Inner was being far too optimistic. Loris only needed thirteen.

---

She stood there awkwardly waiting for him to acknowledge her, standing in the middle of the room in plain sight as a black shapeless rectangular entity. She watched as he organized his pens on his desk. It was pristine. Not a single sheet of paper. All his work was complete. If they were on even slightly better terms she would have asked him for advice on how to replicate his success. Watching him do it day in and day out brought her no closer to enlightenment. It was amazing.

She stood - wordlessly - in the middle of the room as he pushed up onto his feet. Her window was closing. For the second he shrugged out of his cloak it was too late. Minato did not talk any more business - work - once he was out of the cloak unless it was an emergency. A boundary that she would have applauded as healthy if it was not actively working against her.

You can't keep dancing around this. Just tell him!

Emboldened by the energy in which Inner spoke, Loris cleared her throat. There was still no acknowledgment. Nothing. He gave her nothing.

"Hokage-sama," she began with very little beyond a lick of hope that she gripped tightly in her delusions.

"Not now, Loris-san," he sighed, not stopping his movements. The cloak was being folded in his hands. "I am expected at home."

"I won't be long," she promised. "I won't keep you."

The Yondaime paused. For the first time all day - all week - he looked at her, with expectation. He had the audacity to be annoyed with her.

"Hokage-sama," she stared at his chin. "I think it would be in everyone's best interest if I resi-"

"No," he cut her off, eyes back on his desk. Searching it for what was never there. "I refuse your resignation."

You didn't even let me give it.

Her written resignation seemed to always get lost or go missing before he ever even broke the seal of the envelope. Letting her hand it in was out of the question.

"My skills do not align with the job req-"

"Adapt," he commanded as he rejected. "Being a shinobi - a skilled shinobi - means being highly adaptable. Make do with the circumstances."

"Hokage-sama," she inhaled air, not believing the fact that he was lecturing her on what it took to be a good shinobi. The very lens in which he saw the village would shatter if he knew just how good a shinobi she was; just how good a soldier she was. It would curl the hair on his chest.

"I belong in Root. I am needed in Root. My place is in Ro-"

"Your place is where I tell you it is," he cut her off yet again. He crossed his arms over his chest. Closed off. Unmoving. Like a stubborn mountain that obscured her view. Unforgiving in his stature and imposition. "I am your Hokage. This is your assignment. This is your mission."

This is not my mission!

On the bright side, he's making it really easy to hate him.

If only that were true.

"Hokage-sama," she exhaled with force through her nose. She grasped at anything she could hold onto. "While that is the case, I implore you to-"

"Tell me."

She did not know which was worse. Being ignored, thus unable to say anything or having his attention but being constantly interrupted. It was all the same at the end, she figured. She was not heard either way.

"Tell me what you need," his eyes were so cold. So dark. So unfamiliar. "And I will give it to you."

What…what are you doing?

Loris swallowed a growl. But some sound made it through her closed mouth. Defiant. Impatient. Tired of being tested.

I never should have opened my mouth to make that stupid comment. I never should have put the idea anywhere remotely in your head. I…I….

"I need," she said through clenched teeth, but it was her pride that was being pressed under his pressure. Under the force that he exerted on her. "I need to be out of the village periodically. Being bound to this role, this responsibility hampers my ability to do that. I need-"

"Tell me when and it will be granted." He shook his head once, curtly effectively killing the rest of her sentiment then and there. "We are done entertaining the notion of your resignation. I will not accept it." His eyes glanced behind her at the clock. A silent hint, a reminder that she was in fact keeping him. He left her no other option. His stubbornness left no other path for her to take.

"Understood." She clicked her heels together once, head bowing in respect for the work he did to gain his post before she used shushin to get the hell away from the office and the man who was behind her latest frustrations.

Did all that power go to his head?

She did not answer Inner. They both may not know what was happening but even they knew that was not the case. The Minato they knew would not be corrupted. She gnawed on her bottom lip, the illusion of a pink-haired woman walking to her apartment covered her mask and cloak.

The Minato we know…but who the hell was the Minato back there?

Who was that in the tower, in the office? She did not recognize that man. Her pink lashes pulled together as she groaned. When would he - the Yellow Flash - stop being a problem for her? When would he stop taking up valuable headspace? When would he stop being the reason she was a little lower on sanity each day?

The answers to all her questions were the same: she did not know. She really did not know. And that would be the reason she did not sleep tonight. Again.

---

Frustration. Having frustrations. Being frustrated. It was her default state of being. Her heart rate was slow. Yet her anger - from her frustration - heated her. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. She watched him. Like her, he was not much of a sleeper. Her priorities shifted yet again not because she wanted to but out of need.

He had told her to adapt.

So she did. Sleep was not coming so she forewent it on nights like this. Nights where the day has passed with the weight on her chest growing and growing and growing. She was making progress in her day job. From her clone - the one that trained Anko - she knew the girl was doing the same. She really was talented when it came to poisons. The way her mind worked was a thing of beauty when it came to that regard. It was too bad that Tsunade came back to the village and took Shizune with her - Sakura missed it. Again, the ten-plus months in Tsuchi cost her so much and she had very little to show for it. Anko and Shizune could have really done some interesting things. Between Anko's creativity and Shizune's pragmatism, they were the perfect team. Post-Academy students could really benefit from a lecture of two.

She could see it.

Almost as clearly as she could see him walk the streets of Konoha, his sheer audacity confounded her. How he could be so nonchalant and almost leisurely in his gait while knowing what he knew; knowing exactly what he was doing to this village, was beyond her feeble mind. She did not want to understand it. She never wanted to be a person who understood Shimura Danzo's motivations.

Choke. Choke. Choke.

She prayed with each breath as he chewed his food without a worry in the world. He was not liked but he was respected. It was apparent in the wide berth they gave him at the counter - the bar seating at which he ate. There were two empty chairs to his right and a wall to his left. The rest of the room was packed to the brim. It was the late-dinner rush-hour.

Do something.

He was doing nothing. He was actively doing absolutely nothing. At this moment. Nothing was happening. All Root operatives were grounded - not just her -as far as she knew.

She ground her teeth together, watching his reflection through the mirror wall as he ate. Her frustrations rising. The days were slipping by and she was no closer to anything but history repeating itself. Because it would. She knew it would. And thus, her very existence in this form would be prolonged further. Because if Minato and Kushina died, if the Uchihas were still massacred, she would not be allowed to die. She would not allow herself to die. That would be her punishment. Future Sakura would not be born. That was her penance for her failures.

She settled into the shadows, deeper away from the light. It was going to be a long night. She could tell. She could tell. Her emerald eyes narrowed behind her mask. She glared at the reflection of the lone black eye. She visualized his Sharingan spinning in his socket covered by the white bandages. It added to her building anger.

Simmering. Seething. Searing.

---

Sakura sighed as she pressed the brown bag containing her purchases to her chest. She was exhausted which made next to no sense to her. Her job was mostly standing around for prolonged periods. It was boring being in the Hokage's Guard. She supposed that was a good thing but she could not help but feel a little short-changed. The official handoff happened a couple of weeks ago when she approached the Yondaime with her assessment - the sooner the New Guard shaped up, the sooner she could request "missions". And true to his word he did not question it. The Old Guard were relieved of their duties. Free to either retire or add their names back to the official active roster.

She yawned loudly. Maybe it was the new routine - her extracurricular activities had died down considerably. She realized it was only serving to drive her even more insane. She let a clone tail him periodically. Never two nights in a row and never on a predictable schedule. Her contingencies had contingencies. She worked seven days a week but only for ten hours. The hours that Minato spent in the Tower. She was not part of the Night Guard or the home guard and she was not going to go around shaking trees to get to the bottom of as to why. She was left with a lot of time on her hands, so much so that she did not quite know how to fill it other than teaching, training, and the hospital. And thinking obsessively. That went without saying.

The free clinic was doing well. So well that she was burning through the generous tip Junji had given her and her savings. Her paycheck from the hospital was going right back into the clinic in addition to a third of what she made from her guard duties. She made a note to ask Umika for the breakdown for the month. She needed to find ways to save money without having the quality of the care drop off. As she had anticipated, Umika was doing a marvelous job. So much so that two additional volunteers helped her with the clinic, it had its own space now. A small room but bigger than her office, to run the clinic out of. Sakura was in the process - her clone - of drafting a rotation schedule where each medic and nurse were required to put in at least a few hours at the clinic a month. The clinic had not reached that stage yet. But in eight to ten months, Sakura could see the need down the line. She wanted to be proactive. At that stage, Umika and the admin could go to the Hokage to ask him to officially fund the project. The ask would be warranted and she was hopeful - because she was not sure of anything - that he would agree. People were getting care. It was hard to argue against that.

Her eyes wandered up the collection of clouds that were heavy with rain that had yet to fall. She eyed them suspiciously doing the math if it was worth it to just shushin home or if she should just suck it up and spend a few more precious, fleeting moments outside. She hated being indoors. It triggered her claustrophobia. An alignment she developed by accident.

"Oh!" She felt her body collide with a solid, small frame, as her head was still tilted toward the clouds. "I'm so sorry!" Sakura's hand darted out to grab an elbow without consulting her brain, to steady the frame she jostled.

A pair of wide, concerned jade eyes found hers. Sakura's heart skipped a beat.

"Sakura?" Mebuki blinked at her when she gathered enough of her composure to think about something other than the fact that she was about to be acquainted with the ground painfully.

"I'm sorry," Sakura dropped Mebuki's elbow as if she had suddenly been burned. "I'm sorry," she bowed her head three times. She moved quickly to scurry away before Mebuki came back enough to pick up right where she had left off last. She was in no state of mind to endure more lashes to her soul. The one that was tattered, clinging just enough to vaguely resemble the shape of something that could pass as human.

Please. No more.

"Wait!"

Sakura felt a hand wrap around her forearm. She ceased all movement. Everything inside was preparing to come down on her. Hard and unforgiving.

"Please wait, Sakura," Mebuki's voice was close to pleading. It broke something inside of her that was still capable of sustaining more damage. A small crack in the scaffolding that propped her up. A little more each and every day fell off into the void to never be reclaimed.

"Please." The grip around her only tightened.

Sakura took that as an invitation to half-turn to regard her mother. Her hesitation and weariness caused Mebuki's face to fall even more. It was always those closest to you that held the most power. And what relationship was closer - stronger - than the one between mother and child? Theirs was poisoned before either of them had a chance. Tainted.

"I'm the one who is sorry," Mbeuki said in a solemn voice. "I want to apologize to you for my behavior." She swallowed audibly, the anguish almost palpable. The left corner of her thin lips was being pulled downward, the culprit for the skin already starting to develop a crease there. "Kizashi explained everything. I overreacted. I was insecure and jealous."

"You don't owe me anything, Mebuki-san," Sakura began to try to placate her so that she could leave the conversation as quickly as possible. She was wet sand. She was crumbling. Falling apart on the inside it was only a matter of time before the outside matched. And she rather not have an audience. Especially one that expected her to reduce the burden of her own guilt.

"But I do, Sakura," Mebuki's hand slid down her arm until her fingers pressed against her hand, jerking her back to now. They were smoother and softer than she remembered but it was the hand that raised her. The hand that held her. The hand that comforted her. The hand that disciplined her. The hand that she had a complicated relationship with.

Sakura bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears back. She was so frustrated and tired and done, that it did not take much for her body to produce them. She needed a release. She needed to alleviate the build-up. She would cry tonight. Her arms ached and the only thing that could ease the pain was to wrap them around her mother. But that was just not possible. Not in this life.

Why are you crying again, Sakura? You have a good life! You, ungrateful, ungrateful child! Why are you crying?!

Mebuki's shrill voice, unaffected by time or distorted by memory blared in her head, bouncing.

"I was awful to you." The blonde lowered her gaze to Sakura's feet. "Beyond awful. I'm not proud of it." She very much looked the part of someone entangled in a bout of self-doubt and self-resentment. The expression was all too familiar for the pinkette. It was like looking into a distorted mirror - at a picture that was close enough to the real thing that it could trick the brain into believing it.

Her own faults and shortcomings stared back at her, with hair that was blond instead of pink.

"It's okay," Sakura squeezed Mebuki's fingers. Her eyes found the silver band on her left hand. "Congratulations," she smiled softly as she turned Mebuki's hand to admire the simple ring. A symbol of her newfound status. Elevated in the eyes of society. The band carried great implications. She was someone's wife. She was chosen. She was picked. She was wanted.

Why are you crying Sakura? Do you think you can do better than me? For a mother? Who else would want you?

She blinked slowly as more and more questions were pulled from the darkest corners of her mind.

Who else could love a girl like you?

"Oh," Mebuki brought her right hand to her face. "It worked out with Kizashi," she beamed as she gradually turned bright red. "We got married a couple of months ago," she said in a distant voice, still very much in the newlywed glow.

I am your mother! You listen to me!

Sakura readjusted the bag in her arm. She stretched her fingers to help along her circulation. She could feel the numbness starting to set in.

"I'm very happy for the two of you."

"You should stop by the shop!" Mebuki's voice and face reflected her excitement. "We'll have the cream cheese pastry you love so much! Fresh. We need to catch up!"

Don't come crying to me, Sakura, when you get your hopes crushed. I tried to warn you. But you're just so stubborn.

Sakura squeezed her hand once more, for a second longer before letting go. "Sure, Mebuki-san." She took a step back. "It was nice to see you." She dipped her head. "Many blessings to the new couple."

Do you think it's easy being your mother? Do you think it's easy for me to have a daughter like you?

"Thank you, Sakura," Mebuki placed her hand on her chest. "Thank you." Her eyes glittered with her inner joy that could hardly be contained.

Why can't you be like other girls?

Sakura's stomach twisted so thoroughly that the pain caused her to see the seal spread from her mother's hand to her empty womb. Because Sakura knew that she would be the reason the joy left Mebuki's eyes soon enough.

I'm sorry, kaachan.

---

She was beginning to reconsider her strategy. If she could not justifiably leave the village - with an excuse that did not raise suspicion with her Root overlord - maybe she could extend the reach of the village - its influence - without stepping foot outside of it. It made sense when it had come together in her head. But reality often did not match up to fantasy. And maybe her frustration-powered impatience would cost her dearly.

The day had been a quiet one. His calendar was light. He had just finished his lunch. A bento that both looked and smelled delicious even if the food was from last night and cold. There was not a crumb on his desk, person, clothes, or anywhere really. The rest of the ANBU guards were off to have lunch of their own. They would be back in several minutes. Then it would be her time to go to her lunch. But she was never far. She needed all but five minutes to scarf down a rice ball and guzzle a bottle of water. Most of the time was spent going to the bathroom. A very human need in person she hardly considered human in all ways that mattered.

His cobalt eyes were fixed on her mask. Unreadable. Sharp. Focused. Mulling over what she had just said. Her gloved hands flexed at her side as a reflex to the scrutiny. His scrutiny. She was still not used to being alone with him. There was a desk and a whole mess of years between them but he was still much too close. She could still smell the warmth of cedar and the cool of the sea breeze.

"The Chunin Exams?" Minato, the Yondaime, asked slowly for confirmation that he heard what he heard - what she had said.

Sakura nodded her head. "Yes, Hokage-sama." Politeness and decorum, that was what she chose to lead all interactions she had with the Yondaime. Whether or not reality lined up to her intention only time and the nature of the conversation could dictate. Things were still very much in the fledgling stage of things. It was awkward. They were clumsy. They did not know where the lines were until they walked right into it or over it. It was a mess.

A contained mess that they needed to learn to navigate.

The exams happened every six months on set dates. The first in June and the second in December. But on account of the war, it had been more than two years - almost three - since the last exams were held. They would have a little over two months to organize them if he did not elect to just hold one for this year. Given how new he was to the post, no one would bat an eye regarding the idea.

Except her.

"That is what the meeting yesterday with the Elders pertained to, is it not?" She asked coyly.

The neutral set of his resting expression dipped lower into what could be called a frown. Air exhaled through his nose in an audible testament to his patience.

"You can get into a lot of trouble for sitting in on meetings you're not invited to," his even voice reprimanded her. She was putting him in a precarious situation. A situation in which he would have to punish her. And that would really make things awkward. A couple of notches above where they were now, and that was a conservative estimate.

"Only if I get caught," she grinned behind her mask. She knew that he knew that she was there. She wanted him to know. She had been listening, watching, and waiting. Never did the fluctuation in his chakra change - not even a modicum, which is all he needed to get his message across to her. If it had, she would have left. It was that simple.

"I don't really see it as a negative, really. Quite the opposite."

"Oh?" He raised a blond brow. "Care to enlighten me?"

"I take my job - my mission - very seriously, Hokage-sama," she drawled out his title in a way she knew he found annoying. She knew exactly what she was doing. There was even a term for it: malicious compliance. "Can't risk letting anything happen to our beloved Yondaime now can we?" She asked the empty room behind her as if it was filled with faces.

Minato did not answer her. She was not expecting one. She was not off-script.

"In addition to keeping our beloved Yondaime safe-"

"You made your point," Minato said with a scoff, patience reaching its end with her. "Get to the next one."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," she nodded her head dutifully. She did dial it back however when she opened her mouth again. "My job responsibilities also include doing great things. Hence I brought up the Chunin Exam." She came full circle back to the matter at hand.

"I don't need to remind you that the village is still very much recovering from the war. Now hardly seems like the right time to conduct extravagant exams, much less host a village we were at odds with." His eyes regarded her with nothing beyond a calculating focus. He was trying to work out what she was thinking, what she was really thinking. Probably trying to find the angle behind her ask - her suggestion.

"All the more reason to hold the exams. It will show our village, our land that Konoha is rising. Not just recovering. We are on our way to grow by adding more talent to our ranks. Talent that can facilitate the influx of missions we both know will start to come our way as the collective world recovers. And as we move up, we move forward. We can leave all the things behind." She allowed some genuineness to push through the cracks in her mask. The part of her that truly did want to help him and see him succeed more than anything.

Well, almost more than anything.

"We can show them all that we aren't afraid or keeping score. We can show them by extending an invitation that the war is truly over and peace is upon us all. There is a better way. A different way to grow and gain that does not come from the cost of split blood."

She tried not to think about the last time representatives from the village were in Konoha for the Chunin Exams. The catastrophe left them scrambling and devastated. It would be different this time, for the Yondaime was the one sitting in the lilac chair, not the Sandaime. She trusted him. And she just needed him to trust her. Just a little.

"It doesn't have to be over the top, or gaudy. In fact, it can be very simple." It was truly about what it symbolized at its core. Everything else was just a distraction from the true purpose. "The Kazekage is said to be a reasonable man. A man who loves his people and his home, he would do anything for them," she bit her tongue, holding back the words. That desperation was exactly what caused him to make a deal with the Oni - the demon known as Orochimaru. Suna was hurting. Rasa's village and people were hurting. He needed hope for a better tomorrow, not promises of domination.

"I'm sure the two of you have more in common than you think."

"It's a risk," he countered with barely moving lips and an expression that had not changed.

She nodded her head. "It is but I think this could be really good for the village. For both the villages and our lands." She smiled behind her mask, committed to seeing this through. "I think the mutual benefits outweigh the risks."

Fear of failure was not a good enough reason to not try. The ramifications of trade were huge. Suna had medicinal herbs that they could not grow in fire even in greenhouses, the air was too damp here and the soil had too much silt and not enough sand. And even their experts could not get the ratios right. Suna was depleted in resources. Resources Hi had. They could send over representatives to train the botanists here so they could finally get the formula right. Information was valuable, she knew Minato was not closed-minded enough to write off anything that was not the traditional goods for goods exchange. She could run some numbers for him, and draft a proposal if needed, to help in getting the clans and the Elders on board. She was ready to do the work.

I can't kill the snake just yet. But I can make it hard for him to eat. I can starve him.

By tempting him to stay in the village a little longer than he planned.

For the big show.

"Why now?" The way his lips pressed together she knew he was holding himself back from asking the question he really wanted the answer to: what do you know?

"No time like the present right?" She countered brightly, playing dumb to the always there underlying nature of his asks. "It would send a message that the Yondaime has arrived, don't you think? And he is in full control of the situation. Everything is under control."

How she wished that was the case. That could not be further from the truth. But if - when - he pulled this off, there would be no greater vote of confidence. He needed the political capital that this would win him with the clans and the Elders - just in case her plan failed

It's not like you have anything going on.

This will keep him in the village. People are creatures of habit. Even shinobi. Especially shinobi. He took an interest in Sasuke in the Forest of Death. He marked Sasuke in the Forest of Death.

It's a theory, Sakura.

It's the best we have right now.

Maybe it was all they had.

He sized her up, checking her body language for signs of weakness. He did not buy what she was selling any more than she wanted to be the head of his guard. But it was a balance. It was a dance. Everything was laid out in what was not said. She knew things that were beneficial for Konoha - in theory. And he was the one who could help her. He could cover for her. As she cleaned up things for him. A mutually beneficial arrangement where she did not have to justify her presence in his company. It was all above board.

He saw that opportunity in the arrangement he crafted. And she was beginning to see it too albeit the haze of her anger delayed the connection that was to be made. She forgot to look underneath the underneath. They needed each other even if they could not stand each other. And maybe that was why both of them prolonged the suffering. The potential for it was too great to ignore.

"Why Suna in particular?" Minato asked the question that maybe he did not even realize what it meant, the significance of it.

"What is fire without wind?" Her tone held warmth even as her words raised more questions than they answered.

Minato exhaled slowly. It was an act of acceptance of his choice, of his choice to not actively fan the flames that affected both of them if not equally, indiscriminately.

"I will need to think about it."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," the words did not feel like lead on her tongue for perhaps the first time. She dipped her head and took her leave, heels pushed up

---

She caught herself from falling at the last second but her elbows were far from steady. Her left one shook before it folded; Sakura landed heavily on her side panting like she would never catch her breath. Sweat became a second layer between her skin and her ANBU garbs. Her hair tucked away under her black hood collected and retained the perspiration from her scalp. The smell bombarded her nose. She swallowed back the vomit that rose in her throat. Her head swam. Swirling round and round like she was caught in a giant invisible vortex. A whirlpool that showed no signs of slowing down or mercy. Her eyes closed as she rode out another way of intense nausea. One that had her convinced she would never be able to tell up from down.

"Get up," his voice commanded, demanded, and expected of her.

Fuck you!

Okay, so Inner was not so committed to Sakura's commitment to keeping the fragile peace between herself and the Yondaime. But in Inner's defense, even she was not spared the dizzying effects of it all. Perhaps she felt them more extremely. And maybe there was never a peace to speak of.

Sakura inwardly groaned as she slowly got up to her feet. Teeth pressed together in an involuntary response to her plight. She needed something solid to which she could hold. The world had not settled. Her legs were shaky and she had about as much coordination as a newborn giraffe. It was humiliating and humbling all in one as he stood with his feet wider than shoulder's distance apart and his arms crossed. The picture of control and ease. Something she could never be. She resented him for it. But she could never hate him, just as she could never really, truly be angry with him. He was the only one who could claim such a hold on her.

She wished she could wipe her brow but her mask and her pride would not allow it.

"Again," Minato showed her no mercy. There was no empathy contained in the set of his stance.

Sakura shook her head, vowing to be more sympathetic to Anko and Rin and even to a lesser extent Kakashi and Obito in the future. She just did not understand. She was not getting it. It was not clicking together for her. The feeling had been one she was not accustomed to. But the longer she was in his presence, in this new role, the more and more familiar she was becoming with it all. And she hated it.

She gasped loudly. Hand pressed to her chest, fingertips, and thumb against the protrusion of her collarbone. Even breathing was a chore. A laborious task. She moved her hand up and down from her neck to where her breastplate began.

Dying was easier than this.

That's because the Uchiha Bastard showed you more consideration than the Namikaze Bastard.

"I need notes, suggestions."

"You have everything you need. You studied the theory. You know the theory. You memorized the theory. Now you need to put it into practice." He was impatient with annoyance woven in. A far cry from the sensei she knew him to be.

Why are you being like this?

You're the one who told him to hate you.

She must have had expectations of what that would look like because this was not it. She pushed down a sound of frustration. Raw and almost overwhelming. The grass called to her but she stubbornly stood on her feet. Wobbly legs and all.

"Maybe it's beyond me," Sakura panted. Her ego had been dismantled right around the time she nearly doubled over and vomited through her mask. It was only her sheer stubbornness that saved her. It allowed her to swallow it instead. It burned inside of her nostrils. "Maybe I need to be a part of the group, too."

"No," Minato narrowed his eyes practically into slits like she offended everything he stood for with her suggestion. The songbirds and crows grew very silent abruptly. If she were slightly more solid, she would have taken it as a premonition. "You have enough chakra. If you can summon Katsuyu-sama you can handle the Hiraishin."

Damn that pervert and his giant mouth.

She suddenly wished he was within neck-wringing distance. Nothing between her and the man was sacred. She knew he passed on what he deemed important or interesting to Minato. And what Jiraiya considered interesting could vary depending on the particular whims of the day.

"Hokage-sama-"

"But you already know that," Minato interrupted her. Yet. Again. It was in danger of becoming a habit if he was not more careful. "So if you're done fishing for compliments, again."

Just one swing. That's all I need.

As tempting as that was to satiate Inner's need for blood, the Hokage's blood, Sakura sighed haplessly. She could not touch him. They both knew that. The wind that danced across his face, - grazing his skin, his hair, his lips - taunted her.

This is impossible.

"You get a three-second head start," Minato held up his fingers to clarify just how many it was. "Three…."

Sakura flashed. She focused on the tree marked with her seal. She ducked down and spun on her couched heels just in time to avoid a punch that would have leveled her in her compromised state. A feather could just about knock her over, she was so off balance.

"You said three!" Sakura shouted at him, coating herself in her adrenaline. "That wasn't even two!" And she was being generous.

"You cheated," Minato flashed out of existence. She let out a snarl when she felt his hand on her ankle. "You used shushin for the last one." Oh, how he managed to sound so disappointed.

In her desire not to be tossed to the ground head first, she panicked and flashed away. She clutched her knees, head over them, nearly dry-heaving.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His voice called from behind her, causing every hair on the back of her neck to stand up on end. He caught her punch in his palm. He did not even blink as he countered the kick with his other forearm. "Have you always been this sloppy?"

Sakura growled.

I'm going to kill you!

Minato was not impressed or threatened. He let go of her fist. "You'd have to be able to keep up with me, first," he said, seemingly reading her mind. Or maybe she said what was meant to stay inside, out loud. It was a toss-up.

Bastard.

She flashed using something more than a shushin but not quite the Hiraishin to appear behind him. She could smell his hair. He was gone again in the wind. Before his hand could reach out and tap her on the shoulder from behind, she disappeared only to reappear for a split second several yards away. She came and went out of sight. Minato's eyes followed each of her movements. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. He flashed to intercept her.

xXx

"Why five?" She asked, breathing heavily. He only had three guards from what Naruto told her.

"It's more than four," he answered unfazed by her glare that he could feel through the cold porcelain of her mask.

"That's not an answer!" She said through clenched teeth.

"It's the only one you're getting," Minato phased, giving her some time to adjust. "For now." Only his voice rang out.

"Not good enough." Her fingers curled into fists. The thought of focusing on the seal - her seal - was pushed further back in her mind. She whirled on her heel, glaring at nothing. Trying to catch nothing. She had nothing.

"Patience, Loris-san." He pushed her out of the way as if she were as insignificant as a fly.

She growled, spinning in the air, feeling more at home the longer this stretched out. She flashed away before he could hook his arm around her elbow. Sakura reappeared facing his back. Her palm reached out to him.

Almost got you.

He slipped through her fingers. She braced herself for what she could not see coming. Teeth clenched in unregistered pain.

xXx

"How's your stomach?" Minato circled his wrist with his hand. His arms rested on his bent knees as he peered up at the cloudless sky. The two distincts of blue darkened as the seconds slipped away.

"How's your face?" Sakura shot back, flat on her back sprawled like a shameless starfish because the thought of moving would have her losing her breakfast. Breakfast that she should have foregone.

Minato rubbed his sore jaw with a broody expression; face turning purple to match his bruised ego.

"Cheapshot."

Sakura snorted, not dignifying his comment worthy of a response more than that in her pettiness. Somewhere, somehow the lesson had dissolved into a brawl. The satisfaction she took in temporarily scrambling his nerves so that his ankle went limp was like a high she never experienced before. So she did the same thing to his shoulder. And that had felt even better.

It was only when the blue sphere of his Rasengan and the blue of her chakra-infused fists had filled their line of sight illuminating just how out of hand everything had gotten that the session ended at a stalemate. A hostile one.

"Come here," she said with a sigh when the voice nagging away at her became too much.

"It's fine," he held on stubbornly. Turned away from her. Not wanting anything she offered up willingly, it seemed while having next to zero reservations about taking from her what he wanted. Her time. Her freedom. Her annoyance. Her impatience. Her anger. Her petulance. Her resentment.

Hot air puffed out of nasal cavities; Sakura flattened her palm on the grass. A small green sliver of chakra snaked through the visual distance of a yard that separated them, transverse up his leg - not quite tickling in its featherlight touch- until it found its target. The tenderness, the bruising, and the discomfort all eased into nothing like it was never there at all. He did not need to test his jaw to know that was the truth.

Minato sighed, lungs deflating completely; shoulder slumping slightly and remaining that way even as he filled his chest with breath.

"You've gotten really good at that." Soft over the still, his voice broke the silence that had settled to fill the void.

"The best," she stated without contention, leaving no room for rebuttal. Not that he had one, she was sure. Just as she was sure, she could not let him go home to his new wife with a black and blue face. Not when she was paid to protect that very face.

"Why?" Because she was tired of holding it all in. Asking herself over and over got her nowhere.

He spared her a cautious look from the corner of his eye. Guarded and wary of where this might lead, of what a seemingly innocuous question could cost him. It was always disproportional. Deceiving. He fell into the trap one too many times.

"Why did you do it?" She offered additional context in her magnanimous mood. She gave with the hope, the belief that it would inspire him to do the same.

"You're the best." His cobalt eyes focused back on the cloud overhead that looked remarkably like a bunny. "It goes to reason that the best be in the Hokage's Guard."

"You need a guard about as much as I need a medic," she deadpanned with an exasperated eye roll. "It's redundant. We only slow you down."

"Hence the training," he pulled at his hair. A gesture he had done more in the past few weeks than in all of the years she remembered knowing him.

"Is that really all?" She pressed without so much as spelling it out, giving him plausible deniability. Her eyes narrowed behind her mask. It gave her reassurance. He could not see her. Her hesitation, her fear, he was agnostic to it.

"Because I am the best?"

Not because you want to keep an eye on me? Not because I've poisoned what was so thoroughly, that there's nothing here anymore.

She pressed her teeth over her bottom lip hard enough to leave impressions. A pink mold that captured her state of mind, temporarily.

"That and because I trust you," he addressed her. For the first time, directly. Without a facade. Without impatience. Without an edge. "I trust that you'll honor your word. I trust that you'll tell me when you're ready." And he needed her to trust him. To trust that he knew what he was doing. Just a little.

"The Elders and the Council approved the proposal," he said the words he knew would distract her because he could not bring himself to say the full answer.

"What?" She gaped at him from behind her mask, sitting up, not sure which part caught her more off guard.

"The Kazekaze, his entourage, and twelve genin will be arriving in a couple of months for the Chunin Exams." Minato dispelled all possibilities for confusion or misunderstanding. "We have our work cut out for us."

It worked? It worked!

"We'll be fine," she said in disbelief, automatically without even thinking about it. There was so much to do. Time was going to fly by. The wind continued to dry her sweat. The process would be faster now that she was not pressed against the grass.

"I expect a finalized list of medical plants for trade talks."

"Of course," she nodded her head, thought spinning. One into the next. Indistinguishable. "You'll have it by the end of the day tomorrow," she said eagerly.

"You have to the rest of the week," his lips twitched down but his expression could not be called a frown. "You need your sleep. Especially now when the village will have outsiders."

She grimaced. "Maybe don't call them that? Might go a long way into establishing a healthy relationship."

You would be the expert.

She set herself up for that one. She waited for Minato to make a comment in a similar family but he did not. He was more mature than Inner, she supposed.

"I hope you're right about this," Minato did not know what possessed him to utter the words. "There is a lot riding on it."

She knew that. It was a huge ask. But she had asked anyway. Sakura lowered her eyes. "How can you trust me?" She asked in a small voice that he had not heard in years. "With the seal?" The one that bound her to him, to Danzo.

"I just do," he answered impassively in totality. She could tell this was quickly leading to a dead end.

She pulled up a handful of grass. "Do you trust the one on your wife?" She asked as she pushed yet another boundary, toeing the line.

He turned his neck. His face was pensive but his eyes betrayed his true nature. Her question would sit with him.

---

"Hokage-sama," Sakura stood by the door waiting for an acknowledgment.

"Come in, Loris-san. Come in. come in." He murmured more to himself, not looking up at her. His desk was in a state of disarray. The system that he had developed was failing him. It had failed the stress and load test. And she could not help but feel bad. It was her hand that dumped more on the desk, breaking it - proverbially. He ran his hand through his yellow hair, pulling at it. She could see the bags under his eye from across the room. They were worse than what he sported during the war.

She crossed over to his desk. She held a sheet in her hands, the blank side facing him. She did not move to add it to the large pile.

Minato felt her eyes so he raised his to her mask. His gaze was expectant.

"The list, Hokage-sama," she made no motion to hand it over to him. "To send over to Suna," she reminded him.

Understanding flitted across his face. "Good. I was waiting for that," he held out his hand. Sakura gave him the paper. She watched his eyes go from right to left, top to bottom. His brows furrowed. He lowered the sheet and pointed to a name.

"She says she's ready," Sakura answered impassively. She was not surprised that he knew she was teaching Anko. He had three close sources he could have heard it from. All three members of Team Seven had loose lips. Even Kakashi on more than one occasion. Rin and Obito were bad influences. It was not entirely a secret, that was her point. Sakura inhaled.

"And I think she is," she added in a firm tone, pushing away any and all innuendo of duality.

Minato nodded his head. He reached for the hilt of a wooden instrument. He pressed down on the paper. The red wax signed the document in the shape of the seal of his official stamp.

"Send it to the aviary, please."

"Of course, Hokage-sama." She made the seals for a clone to appear. The clone took the sheet from his extended hand and left without another word. His cobalt eyes watching her closely.

Sakura reached for the top half of the stack, stealing a pen from his desk, a fact he did not see but its absence was felt. She unclipped her cloak. Letting it pool to the ground, settling into the window seat in the far corner of the room. Legs crossed at the knee. She twirled the boosted pen in her hand feeling his gaze. He did not say anything as he watched, over his shoulder. Not when she read through the first page or the second or even the fifth. Not when she started tutting and crossing out mistakes made in form submissions from the various departments. Not even when she made piles - three distinct ones - in front of her.

He turned. He lowered his gaze to his paperwork. He did not ask but he also did not stop her. Two pens scratched the sheets of parchment. A silence that was comfortable - if either of them had to hazard a label (but that would require them to actually think about it) - settled upon them.

---

"He's teaching you the Hiraishin?" Danzo asked her for the second time in a span of as many minutes. Perhaps he was checking - testing - for inconsistencies.

"Yes."

"Why?" The raven-haired man narrowed his eye in distrust amongst other heavy emotions born from his perspective of the world.

"In the event the village is attacked and we need to be somewhere quickly." Level and detached was her voice. She separated from her emotions so she could study his; as minute and controlled as they were.

His eye saw past her, through her, like she was not made of flesh and bone but air and insignificance, Danzo did not move or speak for over a minute.

Like I'm not even here.

"Is he concerned about the Kazekage's visit?"

"No." She shook her head, shooing away the thoughts that buzzed in her ears like a persistent wasp. "I do not believe that is the reason why he is doing this. Yondaime-sama trusts Rasa-sama, conditionally. If he did not, he never would have invited him to the village, putting the Kazekage in a position to harm it." She found the answer to be satisfactory but she held her breath anyway as she waited for his verdict. The only one that mattered in this building. In the inner chambers of Root.

"The company? The genin?" His lone eye bore into both of hers, nearly drilling a hole through her mask.

"Vetted, just as I am sure our genin were when we sent over the list." It was all very par for the course from what she gathered from her readings. Konoha did not host the Chunin Exams under Tsunade's kageship. They only cycled back to a village every three years as it was. She could only go based on textual corroboration in addition to what she remembered from her exams fittingly in Suna of all places.

"Any of interest?" He asked with a curled lip, held stiff by his contempt.

She schooled her expression even if it was tucked behind a mask. If Danzo had taken an interest in the Hyuuga instead of the Uchiha, she would long be dead. She was sure of that fact. The bandages that protected him from the ramifications of the truth also protected her.

"No Danzo-sama. None stand out."

For you to corrupt. For you to exploit. Better luck next life.

"Shame, but not surprising. Beyond the kage and a couple of notable shinobi - never more than one per generation - the desert has nothing to boast of." It had nothing to fear. "It just so happens to be why they have never won a war either."

Chiyo-baasama and Sasori are the couple of notable shinobi you are referencing, Rat?

Her silence filled the room as she blinked behind her mask, barely moving beyond that.

"He is teaching you to master it alone?"

"He thinks my training as a medic and my proficiency at fūinjutsu give me an advantage. I'm a fast learner." She risked adding the adlib into her summary.

"How close are you?" He demanded with a churlish bark.

"Closer than the others."

"Good," he rubbed his chin. "Good," he said in a quieter voice, most likely for himself.

She could see the gears working in his head. He was getting himself all kinds of excited thinking of all the ways the Yondaime was making her - his weapon - even more sharp. She wondered if he reached the path that would ultimately lead him to think just how much more useful she was about to be to him, how she could fit in with his plans to regain control of the village. How she could help apply even more pressure to the Uchiha. Even more than Tobirama applied during his time, the vacant housing that Danzo built for them awaited its assigned prisoners. She could see it nearly as soon as the thoughts appeared in his mind. His hand slipped into his trenchcoat with intent.

She cleared her throat. She watched as annoyance at being interrupted - pulled from his very pleasant daydreams - crossed his face, hardening the visible lines that existed there.

"If you'll excuse me, Shimura-sama."

His furrowed brow and slightly agape mouth brought her immense satisfaction.

"I'm late for a training session with the Guard." She bowed and shushined out of the room before he could get a word in edgewise. He would have to allow her insolence. Her value just went up.

Considerably.

---

"You have the healing palm mostly down and you can purge poisons enough to survive." It was not pretty but it was consistent and she would take that any of the week. "You have solid taijutsu under your belt, your poisons, and your aim is well above average for a genin. Probably even better than half the Chunin I've come across. Your stamina and reaction time are above average too," Loris crossed her arms. "You're in really good shape for the exams."

Anko stood in the glade with her hands on her hips, the filtered sunbeams lighting up certain sections of her hair to reveal violet instead of black, beaming. Absolutely radiant from the assessment.

"Come and get me Sand-freaks!" She bellowed through her cupped hands. Her voice echoed off the trunks of the trees and the countless branches. "Eat my dust!"

The buildup before the slight letdown on account of reality still being a thing. And Loris was the bringer of such realization.

"You can also get a Konoha-nin, don't forget that. Even your teammates aren't exempt," Loris curbed some of the excitement.

"Eh, I'm not attached," she grinned from ear to ear. Pummeling her first to her palm, curling her fingers around it. "They can all have a piece of me. I don't care. I'll knock them back," she punched the air with ample confidence. She pulled her fist back to repeat. Now she was punching both hands one at a time in a smooth cadence. Predictable. "One at a time…hey!"

Loris did not let go of her fist.

"What gives, Sensei?" Anko pouted, eyes big and imploring. "Would it kill you to blow off some steam once in a while? To let loose and enjoy the moment?"

Yes.

Loris kissed her teeth, ignoring Inner. "Everything I listed will help in the first and consequent rounds," she stressed slowly, waiting for anything akin to awareness to spark in Anko's eyes.

"Yeah, so?" Anko huffed. She began to pull, trying to free her fist from Loris's deceptively light grip. She grunted from the exertion.

"We have not even begun to prepare for the preliminaries," Loris reminded her.

"The what?" Anko furrowed her brow. "Sounds like you're just making stuff up. Give me my hand back alread-" Anko fell onto her butt when Loris let go of her hand as she asked. Anko glowered at her from the grass, hands, and legs sprawled messily about her. Palms flat, itchy from the contact.

"Anko-chan," Loris gritted her teeth. Her lack of sleep and constant obsessing were not Anko's fault but the girl was at the receiving end of Loris's estranged patience. "The preliminaries are the round before the round, before round one. Two stages before the individual rounds. If you fail, all your teammates fail." She drew in the air. "It's a written test." She would be damned if her student went in blind as she did with her team.

Anko's eyes widened. "No way! That can't be right! That's not fair. That's-" She stopped her panicky protests at Loris's raised hand.

"You've gotten a lot better at reading," Loris said with a soft smile heard in her voice.

"But I need help," Anko's face fell. "I'm still not very good at it." It was still Anko's biggest weakness. She was slower at it than the other kids. And the added pressure of having a written, timed exam would only aid in her making more mistakes or giving up out of frustration.

"I have a workaround, Anko-chan," Loris assured her with a hand on her shoulder.

"How?" Anko frowned. Her eyes lit up. "Are you going to steal the test and tell me what answers to memorize?"

Close.

"Not quite," Loris found herself mimicking Anko's grin. "I'm going to teach you how to cheat without getting caught."

"Cool," Anko breathed. She paused. Her frown made a reappearance. "How will that help?" Anko demanded. "What if I get seated next to a dumbass and not a Nara or something?"

Loris did not point out that Anko's fear was probably someone else's fear as she fit the bill, not on the account that she was a slow reader - no. On the account that Anko refused to study. And truth be told, it was impossible to study for the preliminary test. It tested an innate intelligence that could not be taught. And Anko did not have years and years to teach her brain to try to emulate or practice that form of thinking.

"Anko-chan," Loris said calmly, willing some of the excess to seep into Anko's pores and spread through her bloodstream. The girl needed to breathe. She needed to think with her head and not with her instincts.

"I need you to listen to me very carefully. Everything I told you today and am about to tell you, you can't tell anyone. Not even your teammates. Not even Team Seven. Okay?" She could get into a lot of trouble. Anko's career would be over before it started and it was the last thing Loris needed on her conscience. "I'm serious." Her emotionless mask illustrated the gravity of the situation.

Anko nodded her head. Her expression was grave, receptive to the somber mood that Loris nurtured. "I won't tell," she quickly crossed an 'X' over her heart. "Promise."

Atta girl.

Loris leaned forward. Her hand was still on Anko's shoulder. "There will be plants in the room. For every three students, they have a fake student taking the exam. They know all the answers already. I will teach you how to cheat. I will teach you how to do it without getting caught. I will teach you how to spot a plant but it will be up to you to actually find them. Does it make sense so far?"

Anko nodded her head slowly. "Yeah. So how many genin are taking the exam this year?"

"Twenty-four, twelve from Suna and twelve from Konoha." All in the spirit of equality. It was a big turnout for both villages on account of the war postponing the exams as long as it did. It was only half the eligible number of teams for either village. But the logistics of traveling with more as great a distance as Suna was a nightmare. The other teams would just have to wait six more months.

"So," she continued. "That means there will be eight plants." She waited for Anko to make the connection, holding her breath for Anko to make that connection. "They will be wearing headbands that are laced with genjutsu. So they can change the insignia based on their needs and who is actively looking at them."

"But won't that be obvious?" Anko pointed out with a frown that was far from convinced. "There's not enough of the plants to form a full team!" Her eyes lit up.

Sharp kid. Pointy like a kunai.

Like a poison-laced senbon.

"Exactly," Loris could feel her excitement rising. "That will be the easiest way to spot one. They will try to make it sneaky, appear like they could be a member of this team or that but they belong to nothing. Be on the lookout for the two without a third member."

"Right," Anko's eyes darkened with determination. She leaned in closer to the point that their heads were touching. "And the other ways?" She whispered.

Loris opened her mouth and began to tell her all the ways to spot someone pretending to be what they were not.

---

"Left," his voice called out just before he disappeared in the heart of Training Ground Three.

The wind moved through her hood. She clenched her jaw when she felt his hand touch her forearm on the same side he had called out. There was something so demoralizing about him calling out his attacks and her still being too slow to do anything to counter them. She knew they were coming. She felt dread and trepidation twice. Once when he spoke and the second time when he grazed her.

"On your six."

She spun around. His foot hooked around her ankle, sweeping. She caught herself from falling just in time.

"You're getting better."

Then there were the patronizing comments. He could be genuine for all she knew but she was too committed to her frustrated anger to think anything remotely positive about him.

Calm down. Think.

"Right."

The leaves swirled in the air. She narrowed her eyes. The direction of the wind changed. She could feel a tinge of warmth on her right. The shift.

She curled her knees to her chest. She saw the top of a yellow head. A rustle of fabric. His low kick did not land. She grinned under her mask. The adrenaline raced through her. The blood in her veins warmed as it came alive.

This is fun.

"And you're in trouble," she promised, with palpable excitement. Dodging the next blow before he even had a chance to fully tell her where it was coming from.

Minato grinned, his eyes coming alive in a rich warm hue. The next unannounced attack she countered with one of her own.

She was getting better indeed.

---

The fit on the three-person sofa was tight so naturally Obito was demoted to the floor. A fact that the raven-haired teen would not let go unbrought up every five minutes or so. She could not say anything. She had not even gotten around to adding furniture to her humbly furnished apartment - empty, her apartment was empty - and it had been over a decade. Kakashi was leaps and bounds above her in that regard. She ran her flat palm along the plush cushion to give herself something other than the three faces looking at her with varying degrees of disbelief.

Why did I open my mouth again?

You can't help putting your foot in your mouth. It's compulsive with you.

Kakashi was gawking at her openly. She could tell by the wide set of his eyes that there was a complete lack of thought in his head. She rendered him speechless. Maybe even stunned. Obito, the Uchiha was craning his neck to blink owlishly at her. His eyes were so wide, they might just pop out of his sockets. His arms circled his knees loosely. Rin did not appear to know what to do with the information. She was much more composed than the boys. Probably in her reservation of judgment.

Loris shrugged trying so hard to come off as unbothered. "I stand by it."

Obito squinted as his face pulled into a pensive expression, going from one extreme to the other. He tilted his head to the side. "Have you ever even killed anyone before?" He demanded.

Rin clocked him on the back of the head with her foot before Loris could even formulate a response.

I think I may be a tad bit of a bad influence on them.

Too late for retrospectives now. The damage is done.

Loris's cheeks heated under her mask. She could feel the defensiveness rise in her as the temperature did.

"Everyone is scared of something," she huffed. "If they tell you otherwise they're just liars." She paused to make her statement more structurally sound logically or at least appear that way. "Or sociopaths." Which tended to be the same thing.

"Well duh," Kakashi drawled, eyes sweeping up to the ceiling before pinning her in place. "But most people have rational fears." The silver-haired teen scoffed. He was offended enough at Loris's admission for the both of them. "You just admitted to being scared of scary movies."

"Now it makes sense why you were jumpy the whole time, the last time!" Obito pointed at her as he piled on, loudly.

She pushed down his finger and crossed her other leg over her knee. The teen winced before darting back, out of pure reflex. Loris snorted. If she wanted to hit him, she would have and there would have been nothing he could have done to prevent it.

"Scary is right in the title," she pointed out in a monotone made even more colorless with her voice modification. Her candidness was coming back to bite her.

"How could you possibly be doing a good job protecting our sensei when a thing popping out of a closet had you flinching? We all knew it was going to happen!" Kakashi wondered out loud, inklings of distress seeped into his tone. Concern for his precious sensei flashed across his eyes. "I need to join ANBU." It was an obvious progression. If Loris was the best…the best was simply not good enough.

"Your sensei is fine," Loris snorted, rolling her eyes; an action wasted on them.

"Is that why you don't do night duty, Loris?" Rin asked her with big eyes as she put two and two together, incorrectly.

Loris never felt more betrayed. "I'm not scared of the dark, Rin-chan," she made the distinction in a level voice but she shook her head. That conveyed her disappointment enough that the girl realized her blunder.

"Oh," she looked away in embarrassment, cheeks dusted with the pink in consequence.

Loris sighed and crossed her arms. She leaned back further into the sofa cushions not caring if the gesture made her seem like a petulant child. It was warranted. It was beyond warranted.

"I want you three to remember this moment the next time you complain about why I don't tell you anything about myself." Her words fell on deaf ears. Other than Rin, none of them had the decency to look abashed.

"Loris," she folded her hands neatly against her knee and smiled brightly. "If you want to be more comfortable you can take off your mask. We won't say anything."

Loris scrunched her nose behind the mask in question. "Nice try, Rin-chan," she ruffled the girl's hair to add insult to injury. Rin turned even more red. She tucked her hair behind her ears with a soft sigh.

"Must be pretty lonely," Obito picked at the popcorn kernels in his teeth with his pinky nail. "Being behind the mask all the time." He pushed his lips to the side. "Being in ANBU sucks. That's why I'm going to skip right to Hokage after doing my time as a Jonin sensei, just like sensei did."

"Sensei was in ANBU before he was assigned to us," Rin reminded him with a click of her tongue. "And don't say it like that! It's a huge responsibility being a sensei. Sensei made it look easy. But it's not!"

"W-what?" Obito scrunched his face, racking his brain for that particular factoid that was filed away. Long mislabeled and lost. "ANBU still sucks. It sounds like the worst."

"It sounds like paradise," Kakashi propped his chin on his fist. He leaned against the armrest. His statement resulted in scowls on his teammates' faces.

She saw it happening but Loris did nothing beyond pull Rin back against the sofa as Obito flung the half-eaten bowl of popcorn at Kakashi's head. Raining it down all over the Jonin. She sighed as Obito and Kakashi dissolved into a fit of bickering. Her lips tugged into a small smile. Barely there and behind her mask it was inconsequential but it still managed to carry across in her voice.

"Sometimes when I get down, I just come and find you three."

"Really?" Obito asked her with shameless excitement in his eyes. He had even stopped trying to squeeze the life out of Kakashi through his neck, momentarily.

"Do you mean it, Loris?" Rin pressed her face against her shoulder and beamed up at her.

Even Kakashi was watching with muted interest. His hands hung loosely around Obito's collar.

"And then I instantly miss the loneliness," she finished with a smug smirk. Their faces all fell at the same time.

"Mean," they chorused together.

"Too bad Anko-chan isn't here," Loris mused, out loud. It would have been rather entertaining watching her and Kakashi fighting it out for a seat on the couch. Her money was on Anko. The girl was more stubborn. She would outlast Kakashi's will each and every time. But the girl was on a mission.

"I'm glad she's not here," Kakashi grumbled. "She spilled juice on my sofa!" He rubbed the clothed arm where it had happened.

"Don't be like that," Loris admonished. "It came out."

Kakashi muttered darkly under his breath. About not being able to have nice things because of heathens. Which also happened to be how he chose to address Anko more often than her actual name. Gai and Anko were the only ones who could get under Kakashi's skin and stay there. The entertainment value was nearly endless.

"Yeah! Maybe next time. She's been working herself into the ground," Rin frowned with concern. "She's been eating my ration pills like they're candy."

That is news to me.

"I'll talk to her," Loris sent chakra between her brows to smooth away the stress headache developing there. Anko was very gung-ho about preparing for the exams now that they had a date. She needed a not-so-gentle (if need be) reminder that while yes, training was good. It quickly cut into the detriment column when one forwent sleep and food for training. What good would being stronger do her if she slept through the exam? Or if her body refused to move on account of how tired it was.

"Loris?" Obito peered at her almost timidly making him appear younger than he was. "Will you sit next to me…if she's here? The next time?" Obito avoided saying her name. It was like that horror legend of the dead kunoichi in the mirror. Say her name three times and she traps you inside along with her. The teen was taking no chances.

"Of course, Obito-kun," she assured him with a gentle voice. If she were closer she would have reached out to smooth his hair with a reassuring hand. The messy strands that poked through his goggles.

"See?" Kakashi deadpanned, looking her dead in the eyes. "Now that's a reasonable fear."

Obito was scared of Anko and for good reason. The girl liked to terrorize him. It was too bad that Kakashi egged her on about it too, exploiting Obito's fear as he labeled it. It was simply too much for Rin to try to manage on her own.

"Can we actually pick a movie to watch?" Rin tried to pull the attention back to the whole purpose of the night, movie night that was.

"Speaking of loneliness," Kakashi shoved Obito away from him before he straightened out the wrinkles in his dark shirt. "Maybe you should all go home."

"Bakashi!" Obito glowered at him. "Be hospitable."

"You come in here eating my food-"

"It's take-out," Rin corrected matter-of-factly. "And Loris paid for it."

"And make a mess," Kakashi gestured towards the sofa and in the direction of Obito's face continuing to air his grievances as if Rin never interrupted him.

"Your ninken love popcorn," Obito stated in a bored manner, not taking the bait.

"I give up," the Jonin sighed as he flopped back dramatically, sending popcorn airborne and deeper into the cushions. It crunched before breaking under his weight.

"Loris should pick the movie!" Obito settled back on the ground, legs folded and his back against the sofa. "So Bakashi's pick is out."

Rin nodded. She leaned forward and moved Kakashi's recommendation - a horror film - to the bottom of the stack. "So that leaves Obito's pick," she furrowed her brow as she read the synopsis on the back. "It's about a samurai who lost his wife to childbirth. He leaves his newborn son to go fight in a war."

"Sounds depressing," Loris shook her head.

"It's entertaining!" Obito insisted,emphatically. "It has everything: action, betrayal, mystery." He suddenly turned red. His eyes darted towards Rin before he lowered them back to the ground, fidgeting his hands. "Romance," he said in a small voice. The tips of his ears were the color of a tomato.

"Barf," Kakashi added a gagging sound for good measure.

"Kaka-"

"Okay so no to Obito's pick," Rin interjected before Obito could shoot off to get in Kakashi's face again.

The Uchiha groaned. "That leaves the chick-flick."

Rin brought down the movie case to the top of Obito's head. "It's not a chick-flick!" She huffed. "It's based on a children's book-"

"Great, so it's for babies," Kakashi rolled his eyes.

"Will you let me finish?" Rin asked him hotly, her brown eyes lacked all traces of friendliness. They promised retribution if someone was foolish enough to interrupt her again. "It's a take on it. A modern take on a classic. I heard it's really good. It won all kinds of awards."

Obito tilted his head back, eyeing the pictures. "The actress is pretty," he breathed. "I'm in."

"That's all it takes huh?" Loris asked with a chuckle.

"I'm a simple man," Obito rubbed his knuckle under his nose before grinning.

"More like stu-"

Loris pulled Kakashi's neck into an unexpected side hug. "Behave," she whispered almost dangerously. The Jonin quieted down instantly. "Good boy," she patted the top of his head and let him enjoy his freedom. Freedom that he exercised by scooting all the way over to the armrest, as far as he could get away from her while still being on the sofa.

"Great!" Rin hopped off the sofa and made her way to the TV. "It's decided."

Loris settled back into the couch with Rin tucked into her side. By the end of the movie, Rin had fallen asleep, curled into Loris with her head on her shoulder. Obito was weeping openly and Kakashi was trying oh-so hard to hide the shiny gloss to his eyes. Loris did not drop her smile once.

---

"Was there something you wanted to ask?" His dark eyes were focused solely on her mask. The scars on his face jumped out due to the dimmed setting of the overhead canned lights of the hall. The empty hall.

Loris stood before him, arms and hands tucked away under her cloak. She studied his face. He was a closed book. Or maybe there was simply too much going on his mind to be limited to just one expression so he defaulted to nothing.

"Have you given it more thought?" She asked the question that officially she had no right to ask. She should not know. She was his guard. That was it. But The Tower was empt just as the purple chair in the office he dropped off his notes was. His comments. Comments that she would be reading. Again, unofficially. But the Yondaime knew that would be the case even if he did not comment, officially.

Shikaku reached his right hand back to rub the back of his neck. He shuffled his weight on his feet. Exhaustion came off of him in waves. She almost felt bad.

"I'm still weighing it," he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest as he dipped his chin. He gave the green flooring a reproachful look.

That's something. At least it's not a no. Maybe Minato can soften him - make him more agreeable - over the course of several games of Go. It would be good for both of them. And really good for Konoha.

Books and scrolls only gave so much. She did not remember reading or hearing anything about the Yondaime's council, his advisors. Her initial plan was starting to form cracks in it. It was not completely shattered but it was far from a guarantee.

"The Sandaime…," she pressed her teeth against her bottom lip for a second. He had made his availability known to the Yondaime that he would be more than willing to join the Elders if Minato found it beneficial. His forced early retirement did not seem to be agreeing too much with the Sarutobi. A fact his wife, Biwako complained about loudly and frequently enough that it had reached the reclusive ears of her clone.

"Will not be joining the Elders or any official role with the capacity to advise," Shikaku did not raise his gaze to her so it was possible he missed the way Loris stiffened.

W-why not?

"The Yondaime," Shikaku cleared his throat. Green stared at him through red circular markings around the eyeholes. " Declined the offer, respectfully."

He didn't tell me.

Nevermind the fact that she never asked him. She did not feel like she could ask him such a thing.

"Citing differences in opinions that would be too much to reconcile. Something about waiting to go in a different direction, a different path maybe that was what it was, for the village moving forward." The Nara shook his head. "It was all very diplomatically delivered of course."

Minato-kun….

Looks like the old pervert isn't as universally beloved as we thought.

No bridges burned, not even a spark of heat. The Sandaime did not press and neither did the Elders. Sarutobi still had the stench of failure on him, you see. Perhaps he thought attaching himself to the Yondaime more firmly than giving him the official endorsement would make sizable leeway in restoring his political capital in the eyes of the higher ups and the Daimyo; in the eyes of the capital.

The man's smoking habits were not cheap. Especially not with the fine opium he had grown accustomed to over the years of his kageship. Having friends with strong political ties and deep pockets to secure the black seeds that traveled all the way from the Land of Keys. Like a drug habit, it was hard to let go of power. Hiruzen was a mild addict to both, a secret that was well guarded.

Or maybe she was just seeing things being as jaded as she was. Maybe she was finding faults where none existed.

He said no…to a man he admired. He said no. Was it for….

Loris pressed her nails against her palms, breaking the thought in half before she could fall for it. She could not entertain such notions. Minato was a man. He was flawed. Just like everyone else. There could be a number of reasons why he said no to the Sandaime. And none of them had to do with her. That was the truth. That was her truth.

Shikaku pressed his lips together in a firm line, deliberating if more needed to be said. Her silence was the ultimate deciding factor. It had bothered her, the prospect of it happening. So much so that she sat with it for over a week. In silence, stewing on what it could mean for the current rein. And that was why he chose to break his.

"The Yondaime seems to have a lot of ideas. Some would say he is too idealistic and not realistic enough."

"What do you think?" She asked him pointedly.

"I think," Shikaku's dark eyes narrowed slightly just as his voice lowered. "The Yondaime has or will have everything he needs to set out to do what he sees."

Her lips pulled into the shell of a smile, automatically.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Nara-san," Loris's voice held genuine warmth that was lost in the voice modification as her words were transposed. "Thank you for cutting your honeymoon short to help with all this."

"I think all this might have just saved my marriage," he said humorlessly as he tugged on his goatee. Yoshino was already tired of him. Something about the way he breathed was apparently annoying. Or maybe it was the fact that he breathed that she found to be annoying.

"Just the same," she dipped her head in a token of her gratitude, before leaving behind nothing but air and a Nara whose expression grew more serious.

"How troublesome," he grumbled to himself, running his hand across his forehead. The writing was on the walls. It was only for so long that he could delay the inevitable. Especially now after he all but promised he would. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark pants as he surveyed the mess of the Hokage Tower. He might as well get used to it. He was going to be spending more time here, sooner rather than later.

---

"Everything is in order, with respect to the hospital. Uyeda-sama is prepared for what is being asked of him," she broke the silence as he seemed to be more hesitant to do the same. It had been nice but like all things, it had to come to an end. A momentary respite from all the directions they were pulled in from everything that was piling up in their heads. A never-ending laundry list of items to do. And ironically her own laundry - which was literally piling up - would not make it onto this list of tasks.

"Any word from…?"

The expression on his face was enough of an answer.

"No," he shook his head. "Not yet." He was more of an optimist than she was.

Sakura's stomach pulsed in what had to be a disappointment. It was always a long shot but she has been hopeful anyway.

"It will be fine either way," Sakura tried to convince herself every bit as much as convincing him. It left a lot to be desired. "The offer is solid. Both villages are set to gain as it stands."

Still, it would have been a really nice selling point.

Let it go, Sakura. You can't count on a possibility.

Yeah…I just…I just thought maybe it would be different this time, you know?

Inner did know. Inner knew better than most. And that was why Inner wondered just what the threshold was - the number that would break Sakura. Just how many times would she get back up after having her hopes crushed or her trust broken? Inner hoped she never learned the exact number.

"The welcoming committee has been decided." Minato rubbed the pace between his brows slowly. Eyes darkening. Deep in thought just as he pulled her from hers. "Fugaku-san and Shikaku seem like the logical choice."

She nodded her head. "They are," she answered the question mascarding as a statement. "The head of the Police Force and a prominent clan head that is unanimously liked and respected. It's a solid choice. No one can take offense to it." She did not know the reason why she was compelled to put him at ease to the extent she was but she ignored the way her stomach fluttered when the corner of her eyes picked up the way his shoulders relaxed. His relief was almost palpable.

"The room where we will be holding the meetings, what is the status of that?" He turned his head to regard her in earnest. He was lying flat on his back, head cradled in the back of his left hand. The lush grass was all around him. His ankle rested on his bent knee. His right hand was curled upward toward the sky resting against his navel.

"It will be ready. The paint is drying. It will have five days to air out so the smell isn't so prominent. They assured me that neither of you would notice. But an Inuzuka will, that is where they drew the line. Maybe even Kakashi." She sighed, tapping the porcelain of her mask.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Like bells. Soft bells.

"It will be fine." Maybe the more she repeated it, the quicker she would believe it. Maybe.

In the spirit of keeping things as welcoming and as neutral as possible, they had decided that the deliberations would be held not in Minato's office where the power dynamic was impossible to ignore but in a nondescript venue.

Suna and Kaze were a hurting village and land. But they were proud. Very proud. Little things, subtle things, seemingly innocuous things could poke them now as their pride was hurt, dismantled by the rest of the shinobi world. Everyone knew they were struggling. There was no facade to hide behind. So to reduce the opportunity to raise offense, they were erring on the side of caution. A lot of caution. Maybe too much caution. It was their first time after all.

"The profiles came back on the entourage. The medic they are bringing is Nakamura Masato. A Jonin. He's in his early thirties. Unmarried. No children claimed or unclaimed. He's good from what I gather."

He read between the lines. It meant she never personally worked with him.

"He's the best they have after Chiyo-sama. She refused to come out of principle," Sakura pressed her lips to her top teeth. She was very much steeped in her hate for Konoha. For what the White Fang did to her family. The wound was still raw and fresh. She could picture Chiyo spitting on the scroll that Minato had written to extend the invite to Suna to hold their Chunin Exams in Konoha. A first for both nations. Maybe the Kazekage's ears were still burning with the choice words the elder would have on the situation.

"Change takes time, Loris," Minato watched the leaves dance in his palm; his mind moving just as fast as the forces of his Rasengan. "It's a step in the right direction. And the others?"

"The intel did not tell us anything more than the Bingo Book does. They are above board." She tilted her head back to see the specks of blue through the dark green.

We could have done better ourselves.

What happened to not counting on a possibility? The chances he would let us go for recon are even less than the chance of the other thing. Besides…this village has to learn to manage without us.

Sakura, it managed before us. And it will do so after us. In the grand scheme of things, we're insignificant.

"It's looking completely legitimate from this angle. From appearances, that is." Inner's words while she knew them - she believed them to be the truth - still did not sit quite right with her. It stung to hear the words.

"Then it probably is," he tried to alleviate some of the building anxiety that she dissipated with her hot breath.

"The Guard is all debriefed. The Old Guard is shadowing. Not given the authority to step in unless it is under your orders or mine, Hokage-sama." She said it out loud because it made her feel better. It was an auditory confirmation that the task was done. Things were under control.

"It's almost as if we know what we're doing," his smile was humorless. "From appearances, that is."

She pushed air out of her nostrils. Her lips curled into a smile behind her mask.

"Thank you, Loris."

She turned her head to look at him, confused. "For what, Hokage-sama?"

"All this would have been overwhelming without your help. It's not in your job title all the things you did to pull this off. But I appreciate it all the same, if not more."

She had to look away from his face to keep from getting lightheaded. She cleared her throat. It was just the lingering effects of their training session. The Hiraishin still did a number on her, especially when she attempted to chain them. Attempt was the word of interest here. One was still her limit. She could manage one followed by a recovery time of a couple of minutes. It was incredibly taxing.

"You haven't asked me," she did not recognize the brittleness in her own voice. It was all so foreign and unsure. "You haven't asked me about him, about them."

…About your son. About your grandchildren. You haven't asked me, once. Aren't you a little curious?

A sound left his mouth as his lips parted. Her heart was beating her chest noticeably as she waited.

"I am not losing any more time to thinking about the possibility of what could have been, on what could be," Minato said. "My focus is on what is."

The now. He was focused on the now and the only tomorrow he was concerned with was Konoha's and the tomorrows of everyone else in it.

I suppose it's just as well.

It meant she would not have to lie to him.

The air swirling in his hand changed in sound. It was not as crisp as a whizzing sound. It sounded wetter. Sakura looked at his palm. Somehow managing to be surprised. The sphere of water was perfectly shaped. A Rasengan but with water. Less destructive potential but it could be leveraged.

Water is his primary nature. But Naruto didn't mention…the rumors and stories didn't mention….

He's stronger. He's sharper. He's better.

He's more reckless.

"Elemental Rasengan?" She asked, taken aback by Inner's claims based on the current observation.

"It's a start," Minato sighed in admittance. "I still have a ways to go before I can turn it into a different shape, completing the technique."

A larger surface area. A bigger attack vector. For a more devastating blow.

Rasenshuriken.

She watched the water swirl. She could see the gaps where the whips of air were. Everything was in perfect balance and harmony. Right in the palm of his hand.

He doesn't have the Kyuubi's regenerative abilities. He's not Naruto.

Sakura frowned under her mask. Mind racing. Yet it all came back to the same thing. This technique was dangerous. He was going to hurt himself.

If everything else doesn't get to him first.

Inner was right even if it burned Sakura's stomach to admit it. This would have to wait. She had time before she needed to address this. He had said it himself. He had a ways to go which meant that she had time. Not forever. But some.

"What is it?" He asked her in a soft voice. As if scared he would startle her.

"It can wait," she turned back to the sky. Legs folded her under, palms on the soft grass.

"I could use a break," he pressed without outwardly pressing. "To think about something else. Anything other than the Kazekage's visit in five days."

Five days would feel as many as five months just to get through. The notion, the belief that it would be worthwhile was what kept her pushing through it.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to try to visualize her words and the train of thought before she presented them to him. Despite his laidback facade, he would exploit any weakness in a half-formed or poorly thought-out statement. He was surgical and he was only getting sharper with each interaction with the Elders, and with the council. He was becoming more and more like a politician. At least his mind was. She could not speak to the condition of his heart because she no longer resided in it.

"Have you thought about using your wind nature on yourself?"

That's the best you came up with? That's your opening?

It was and it was rather pathetic. Water sloshed onto the grass as Minato sat up. He was staring at her with a neutral expression.

Sakura chuckled inwardly, nervously. She had to commit to it now. "Wind is just another word for air right?" She held up her hand, moving it through the air. "What happens when the air becomes hostile, unbreathable? Be it from a jutsu or just mother nature or unfortunate circumstance."

"A filter," Minato's furrowed brow and set of his chin indicated he was thinking, trying to make sense of the nonsense she spoke.

"Hm," she hummed. "When a gas mask isn't around or practical. If you perfected it, you could even use it on others. Underwater. Or in the event of a fire, minimize smoke inhalation," she said casually despite her motivations for this topic being anything but casual.

Or you could use it to protect yourself against a crazy person's poisonous gas.

"I was able to test the theory out with water. It worked. But there is a huge difference just given the nature of the two things. Water is much denser than air. So it is easier to filter things out of the water as opposed to from the air. Water is more efficient than air. The things I could filter out of the water were what I could see - rocks, gravel, trash, foreign liquids - through reverse osmosis. Filtering things out of the air will not be as straightforward or efficient," she did not like the look on his face. Maybe she needed to slow down or go back and explain something.

"What?"

"Did you pee in the water? For the later stages of your testing?" Once she got past the solid matter such as rock, slit, and gravel.

"A-are you serious right now?" She asked with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"Interesting how you didn't deny it," his eyes crinkled with mirth. "It's what most people would do."

When did you become an expert on what most people would do?

He grew up watching the world, Sakura.

Sakura scoffed in disbelief, covering for both her offense and embarrassment at the mental blunder.

"No," she responded. "I used apple juice," she felt her cheeks heat up. "It was all the convenience store had, okay?!" Her anger from her embarrassment got the better of her. "Can you grow up, please?" She found herself asking in disbelief how the question was directed at Minato - the freaking Yondaime - of all people.

He's being corrupted.

Influenced. The word you're looking for is influenced.

She did not dwell on by whom.

"Being grown doesn't mean not finding amusement in everyday things," his expression sombered despite his uttered sentiment.

"The point is," she huffed. "I have a theory. I can't test it with wind release."

"Have you tried?" He asked her.

What is with him today? Just when I think I figured him out, he changes almost everything on me again.

Sakura glared at him behind her mask.

"I can't see your face," he stated the obvious.

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know I can't use wind release."

Jerk.

"It will work. Even if you're only able to filter out eight percent of contaminants. That's eighty percent of things you don't have to breathe in. That's huge. And if you're breathing in close to eighty percent pure oxygen, you would need less of it. Less breaths. It makes sense to try to invest some time into learning something like this. Even if you breathe in twenty percent of toxins that are designed to kill, with the antidote regime we have you on and the filtered air, it should be long enough for you to kill your opponent or clear the threat before you get help. Because Yondaime-sama, you would still need to get close enough to your opponent to kill them - meaning you would have to get close enough to breathe in air that they contaminated."

She was rambling. She was self-aware enough to realize that. She clicked her tongue. "Learn it," she asked of him. "Please," she added when faced with his continued silence and pensive features.

To which, the Yondaime sighed. "I'll learn it. Don't worry."

She nodded her head. Relieved. It was a promise. She knew it was as good as done.

One less thing.

One less thing to worry about.

---

The lights twinkled overhead, casting shadows everywhere his body stood over the table, pouring over the itinerary. The hand of the clock - tick, tick, tick - ticked time away in a loud testament of just how late it was getting. She bit down on the shrimp chip. Her mask hung from her hip.

She pushed onto her toes to see out the window. The sky was painted with dark black hues broken up by bright white stars and a moon with a yellowish tint. It was late. Much too late. But the cart across the street was open, she could tell by the yellow lights that wrapped around the painted wooden sign. So homey. So inviting. So distracting.

Soba noodles.

Her mouth was practically watering at the thought. She licked her lips, tasting the dry flaky remnants of the shrimp powder and the salt. Her throat was so dry. Soba noodles - wet and cold, refreshing - sound really, really good for dinner. Sakura lifted the silver and blue chip bag, gathering all the crumbs into one side. She brought it to her mouth and tilted her head back. She closed her eyes as the chips filled her mouth. She lowered the bag, crunching loudly.

"What?" She asked him with an eye roll that he could not see, mouth open from a partial chew. Her hinge was in place. "I offered you some," she said with a dismissive shrug, not bothered by the slight look of judgment on his face.

"It's distracting." Minato sighed. He tugged his hand through his hair and leaned back. Cracking his back.

Pop. Pop. Pop-pop.

"You shouldn't do that," Sakura said blandly. She flattened the empty bag and rolled it before tucking it into her hip pouch to throw away later. She brought her thumb to her lips and licked off the residue from her snack.

"I don't think I can ever get used to that." Minato frowned at seeing her hand disappear where it touched her "mask" that was not there. The illusion was crude - far from her best work. A part of him wondered if it was on purpose. She seemed to like messing with his head.

Sakura released her index finger from her lips with a popping sound. She wiped off the dampness left by her saliva on her front. Dusting the crumbs onto the floor. Adding to his mute disapproval.

I'll clean that up later. She lied to herself.

"If it bothers you that much, don't look," she offered with a careless shrug. She rolled the motion back into her shoulders. She stretched, popping a joint. "I know what I'm doing. There is a difference," she defended at the less than amused expression on Minato's face that screamed "hypocrite."

She sauntered over to him, hip against his desk. He did not move to make room for her. She could smell him. It was not nearly as disorienting as before. The lingering scent of artificial shrimp flavor might have had a hand in it. She regarded the document he stood before. The map of the stadium. Where the second and final rounds of the Chunin Exams would happen. The grand finale. She pointed to the exits, it was unnecessary. They were marked in red.

"Jackal," she pointed to the southwest exit. "Stork," the northeast exit, was highlighted. "Goat," the southeast exit. "Panda," the northwest exit. "Loris," she pointed not to an exit but to the back of the stadium in the viewing box. Right next to two seats, there was a bright red dot. "Covert ANBU and Jonin will be spread throughout the audience." She summarized what they both knew.

She dragged her finger to the viewing box. It was away from the rest of the audience with its own entrance and exit. She tapped it.

"There will be four Root guards for Shimura-sama." He would be in attendance. "They are fixed to their post." Meaning they could not be relied on in the event of an attack. They only had one goal and that was to protect Danzo. Everyone else was inconsequential.

"And the Sandaime and his family," she sighed as she circled another viewing box on the other side of the first. "Will have the Old Guard. Everyone has their comms and their orders. They know their positions." She had drilled it into them. She made sure they knew it better than the back of their own hands. "The three trial runs we had were seamless." Virtually. The first two had hiccups but she had smoothed them out.

"Will it be okay?" Minato's dark eyes bore into her. Searching the blank mask for any insight.

"It will be fine," she nodded her head. She gazed at the map. It was seared in her brain. She knew every seat, every exit, every detail of the plan. It all had to go according to it, with some wiggle room for minor surprises. Because people were unpredictable. And there was going to be no shortage of people stuffed into the stands.

"No," Minato shook his head. "I meant," he rubbed the back of his neck slowly and sighed. "Will you be okay?"

"Me?" Sakura frowned, fingers frozen in place on the map. "Are you concerned with my ability to keep you-"

"Loris," he pressed his lips together. "Sakura, will you be okay?" He glided his two fingers - index and middle flushed together - to the red circle behind the two chairs bigger than the rest. He moved it to the chair on the right and the one on its left. She had the full focus of his gaze on her person.

Understanding crashed into her. Her biggest weakness: her emotions. She felt called out. Her face was hidden away behind an illusion that he did not try to break but she found herself regretting not wearing her mask. Her cheeks filled with the red heat of her embarrassment.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked without emotion. The emotion that she locked away deep, deep inside. A tried, repetitive utterance that she did not have to think about in the slightest.

"Right," Minato turned his head and eyes away from him. "You're a professional. My apologies if I implied otherwise," his voice was empty as he studied in blueprints with an increased level of intensity.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Don't pick a fight, Sakura.

I wasn't going to!

Leave it alone. Inner warned her with a clipping tone. Focus on the task at hand.

"Everything will be fine," she shook her head and cleared herself of any lingering doubt and trepidation. And distraction. "Shikaku signed off, remember?" She tried to smirk but it came out as a grimace as she broke the sudden tension in the air before the layer could harden. "There is no better seal of approval."

Minato did not contradict her. It did bring him some ease knowing that Shikaku did not find any major flaws or gaps. And that was saying something since he had days to sit with it - both the plan and the blueprints. He watched her as she moved back to the window. The side profile of Loris was presented to him.

"Go home, Hokage-sama," she said with a sigh. "Everything will be waiting for you tomorrow when you get back." Her head turned in the direction of the stall again.

Shouldn't have had the snack. It woke up my appetite.

You mean you shouldn't have had your first meal of the day out of a chip bag? Go figure.

I was busy!

Sakura frowned. She made no motion to put her mask back in its place.

I can send a clone down there to pick it up. But…

She turned to look at Minato who was still squinting his strained eyes toward the map. Not really seeing what was there, looking past it all.

He needs to go home.

"I'll wrap up dotting the i's and crossing the t's," she called out tentatively breaking him out of whatever hole a thought-bunny led him down. "Go home," her voice was almost gentle. Familiar. Maybe it was the lack of the voice modification jutsu that came with her mask. Or maybe she was just delirious from hunger. The reason for her moments of weakness was not all too clear.

"Everything is already wrapped up," Minato responded flatly. "Are the chairs-".

"They're the same height," Sakura frowned at him with her hands on his hips. "They are both twenty-three inches. And they were both twenty-three inches the last two times you asked too," she rolled her eyes just to appease some of the unease she felt every time he voiced his unease. "And if you really thought everything was wrapped up, why are you still here?" She leaned against the window with her hip propped against the glass and arms crossed.

He pushed out air from his lungs in something between a sigh and a small laugh. "I guess I'm a little nervous."

"Don't tell me you'd rather meet the Kazekage in the middle of the stadium than in a meeting room?" She blinked slowly as she took in his stance. It was not without tension. He carried his stress on his shoulders. She could see it. It was impacting his posture. If he were Naruto or Sai she would have offered to crack his back for him. Or work out some of the knots with her hand and chakra but he was neither of those people so she did not voice the words.

I'm sure his wife could help him work out the kinks.

Right.

His wife. There was that. He would be fine. She focused her gaze out the window, staring at the stall with a disproportionate amount of interest. And it had nothing to do with soba noodles and everything to do with the fact that she needed to look somewhere that was not him. The "Kushina Guardrail" as she had dubbed it, was the barrier that kept both of them safe. It was the only thing that made it possible for her to even be in the room with him alone, like this. He was married. He was off limits. He was safe.

She was no longer a threat to Naruto's dream, an obstacle.

She was inherently selfish. That part of her did not change. Maybe she could learn to be in his life as an acquaintance. Surely that was better than being nothing to him. Maybe they could figure out how to be friends again. Honestly. Truly. Limited to that label - contained in it. It was all possible now because of the Kushina Guardrail. A line that could not be crossed. A line that protected and preserved Naruto's existence. A line that made it clear that Minato loves Kushina, with all his heart. A line that was illuminated by the love and light she brought into his life. A line that kept the loneliness from touching Minato. A line that kept her - Sakura - on the other side from both of them - Minato and Kushina.

Because that was how it was always supposed to be. Minato and Kushina. Kushina and Minato.

"It would be easier," Minato admitted with a chuckle. It was sheepish. "Less nerve-wracking for sure."

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Her eyes tore away from the twinkling lights. She stared at him with a slack jaw. She racked her brain trying to remember what in the world they were talking about.

The Kazekage. You made a bad joke, a dig. He gave you a pity laugh.

Thanks for getting me all caught up.

Meeting on the battlefield as opponents presented less time to converse - less time to put your foot in your mouth or get tongue-tied. Unless your name was Uzumaki Naruto and monologuing was your thing regardless of situation or circumstance.

"You'll be fine," she said dismissively. It was out of her belief in him and ability to smooth just about anything over. When he spoke, people leaned forward to listen. He seemed to be the only one who did not know that. "If you get stuck," she smirked at the glittering interest in his eyes at where she was going, under the misunderstanding that it would be helpful. "Just stop talking and stare off into the distance. People eat that shit up. Especially when it comes from the quiet types." The facade of the profound.

"Quiet types?" Only genuine curiosity could be found on his face as he asked for either clarification or confirmation.

Sakura gestured vaguely to his person. "The point is, you'll be fine. So stop stressing already and go home. Eat a proper dinner and get a good night's sleep. Everything will be less muddled and cloudy in the light of day."

In the light. Where you belong.

"What about you?" He asked, not moving to do anything she had just suggested. This time his question was without layers - roots that could trap her and cause her to trip up in them, skinning her palms and knees.

"I'll be fine," Sakura wrinkled her nose. She always was. "Go," she made a shooing motion with her hand at the reluctance in his stance.

Minato shrugged out of his cloak. He began to fold it. He shook his head good-naturedly. "I forgot whose office it is. Remind me again?"

Sakura simply pointed to the blurry face on the monument behind her with a jerk of her thumb.

Minato sighed deeply. "They didn't get my good side." His cloak was tucked between his arm and torso. Feet pointed at her.

"You have one of those?" She quipped in a manner that made it clear that it was news to her. "Be sure to present that to the Kazekage and his entourage."

"Yes, ma'am," his eyes landed on her face. The one he had to rely on memory to overlay on the mask. "Thank you."

"Just doing my job," she said into an empty room. She had felt his chakra flare before it got further away. Downstairs.

She busied herself with straightening out his desk. She gathered the extra sheets of paper - notes. She sorted them. Burning what was not needed. Humming slightly to herself as she worked. Sakura leaned over his desk grabbing the extra pens they had used.

"Shit," she murmured under her breath as a red one slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. Clink. A single red dot on the beige fibers. She sighed, leaving the other collected pens on the surface of the desk before she got down on her hands and knees to chase it down. She pressed her cheek against the carpet. It had rolled under his desk on the other side. She outstretched her arm grunting as she tried to reach for it, too lazy to get up and around the barrier. Her fingers were right there, just brushing up against it.

"Almost there," she encouraged herself, straining to achieve the impossible - make her arm lengthen. "Got you, you bastard!" She curled her fingers around it, grinning by the time she pulled it toward her. She furrowed her brow. Chakra flared.

"Did you forget something?" She poked her head up from the side of his desk. Eyes wide, lint against her black hood, and red pen in her hand. "Hokage-sama?" She asked into the empty room. Sakura sent out more of her chakra, thin veiny tendrils but his signature was gone. All that lingered in the air was the residual from his Hiraishin.

"Strange," she rose to her feet with a sigh. She reached for the collection of pens that had fallen on the desk like a game of pick-up sticks that she and Ino played as kids before they were academy students. Her arm stopped midway. "What is this?" She murmured to herself. Eyes locked on the brown cardboard container. She peeled off the sticky note from the top.

Saw you eyeing the stall. There's salad too. Eat your vegetables.

~M.

The smell of the noodles and the sesame sauce filled her nose before she opened the take-out container. Sakura bit her bottom lip. It stretched into a smile before she could stop it. She took the container and the wrapped pair of single-use bamboo chopsticks in her hands carefully and settled into the window seat. She munched happily away at the salad with a satisfied sigh. She watched the stars from the window, humming a tune that could be mistaken for content.

---

She rubbed her eyes. She could not believe them. The eyes that needed to see the village from the perspective of someone different: a civilian, a visitor, a stranger, to check for vulnerabilities. For areas to exploit. Just as a potential actor with bad intentions might.

Her lips parted in surprise that she could not keep off her face. Her feet stopped just several yards away from the main gates. A familiar face had just finished stepping out of a cart being pulled by two chestnut-colored horses. They were gorgeous.

A pair of warm brown eyes must have felt her gaze because the man looked around until they landed on her face. A large smile pulled at his lips. He adjusted his round glasses. He stretched his arms over his head and waved jovially, grinning without a care in the world. She had no choice but to return the gesture in a much more muted fashion, mouth still open.

xXx

"What did you think of the tour, Yuri-chan?" Sakura asked the girl pleasantly. Her hands were clasped behind her walk as she mimicked the pace and leisurely style of the two Tezukas.

"So fun!" The ten-year-old beamed at Sakura. Her hair was gathered in a braid on either side of her head, tied together by soft-blue ribbons. "I liked the zoo the best!" She held out the panda plushie to illustrate.

"I'm glad," Sakura chuckled into her hand. "How about you, Junji-san? What was your favorite part?" She cocked her head to the side to regard the merchant. The one she could still not believe was here.

"That's easy," Junji grinned. "Running into you, of course!"

"Tochan," Yuri groaned, stopping to shoot her father with a look of exasperation. "That's not what she asked!"

"I believe it is, my little Lilly," he patted his daughter's head causing the girl to pout. She picked up her feet and rejoined the adults who had wandered a few steps ahead, tucked between them.

"It's not what she meant," Yuri huffed, resting her chin on her panda's round head. "She obviously meant your favorite part of the tour!"

Sakura giggled. "I can see you have a very smart girl on your hands, Junji-san." She did not miss the way Yuri bristled in pride at the praise. Her blue eyes shined with even more light.

"That she is," Junji said with fondness. He raised his eyes from his daughter's to Sakura's face. "Thank you for taking time out of your day to show us around."

"It was my day off," she said breezily. It was not a complete lie, from one of her jobs anyway. A clone was with the Hokage Guard. She was only supposed to be gone for a couple of hours but the late afternoon sun said a different story. The Yondaime could manage. Besides, it was not as if she were not working. She was always working.

"And you taught me some things about Konoha too," she teased mildly. "Who would have thought you knew so much?"

"Tochan is a history buff," Yuri lamented with a sigh. "He has so many stories," she grumbled about what she clearly believed to be a glaring flaw.

"Yeah, I got a taste of that," Sakura winked at her, causing the girl to grin from ear to ear.

"Well, if the two of you had your fill of ganging up on me," he folded his arms in a mock cross display that seemed to only add to his daughter's delight, "what do you say we impose on Sakura-san some more and grab dinner?"

Yuri's face fell. She brought a hand to her stomach. "Too full, Tochan," she complained. "Does this mean you're leaving, Sakura?" Her wide blue eyes implored Sakura to say no.

"I have nothing planned," she mused. "We can walk around the park and make room for dinner?" She looked from face to face. "How does that sound?"

"Yay!" Yuri cheered. "Can we Tochan?" She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged. "Can we?"

"Absolutely," Junji tapped the nose of his daughter. The crow's feet around his eyes only added to the charming picture.

Sakura's heart softened at the smile of pure adoration the little girl directed at her father. He was her whole world and she was his.

xXx

"It appears that my correspondence came before me," Junji pushed up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He did not let them settle into place. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and began to clean them. His head moved from side to side slowly. "I'll be sure to extend my apologies to the Yondaime."

"Hokage-sama is a reasonable man," Sakura uttered lightly. Her eyes watched as Yuri played in the park with her stuffed panda and a couple of civilian children out with their parents. She rested her arm on the metal rest of the wooden bench. She folded her hands. "He'll understand."

Junji nodded his head. He leaned back on the bench. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"You came," Sakura tutted in disbelief.

"Where there doubts?" He turned his head to study her. "The first Chunin Exams with another village. This is the first time Suna has visited Konoha. You heard from Yuri-chan. I live for this kind of stuff. How could I miss it? And especially not after having been invited."

"When you put it like that," Sakura shook her head softly. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot to the village. It could mean so much more for Hi and Kaze." It could be just the beginning.

"I am sorry," Junji scratched his cheek before rubbing his face - displacing his glasses momentarily.

"For?" She blinked slowly watching the children laugh and frolic.

"For making you doubt me." He paused. "For disappointing you, even if it was temporary."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she smiled kindly but again not in his direction. "You came. That's all that matters."

"I have to admit I did have reservations." He looked off into the park mirror her, eyes distant. "Usually the Hokage is only interested in the martial aspect of things. Destruction. Power. Force. And all things associated with them."

"I don't want to say too much as you should form your own opinion, but Hokage-sama is not typical," she stared at the ground. Playing with a hangnail. "Your background - lumber - is not a suitable material for building in Suna given the harsh climate. But there is opportunity. You have the resources, Junji-san. You have the connections. You can build in Suna. You can help rebuild Suna. And while the ask is high and the payoff is low - for now, anyway - you'd be offering them hope, in the exchange for the similar. As, if all goes well, there is potential to expand in other lands. Kiri, Kumo, Ame, even Iwa. The shinobi world is ready to move on from war. The civilian world can be the one to help fill in the gaps left behind."

The civilian world could stabilize the frame of the fragile peace. Cementing it.

"Why does it feel like you're giving me a sales pitch?" His tone was not quite teasing despite the smile on his face. His eyes were focused. The same eyes that were screwed and saw opportunity where others just saw a lost cause or a pipedream.

"Maybe because I am," she smiled. "Unofficially of course. Hokage-sama will give you all the details tomorrow when you meet him." She lowered her hands onto her lap. She regarded them.

The hands that could bring someone back from the brink of death or take someone perfectly healthy and kill them.

"Do you lack faith in him?" Junji asked point blank, blunt. "Please do not take offense but we both know you were behind the letter. You are the reason it found me."

And you're warning me not to offend you by playing dumb.

She shook her head. "No, I do not. You came. You read his letter. The one he wrote." Himself. Even if it was based on her suggestion. "You must have some inkling of his capabilities. He's very capable. I just…I just like thinking about it, I suppose. A world where the nations can help build each other up instead of holding each other down with a boot on the neck, so to speak." Sakura ran her fingers through her hair, playing with the ends.

Setting an example, so to speak.

"It is a very pretty picture," he sighed. Eyes scanning the blue sky, in search - in thought. "And I suppose I am supposed to eat the cost with a smile on my face? Call it the peace tax?"

"Who said anything about doing this alone?" She raised a brow. "Have you forgotten all about our mutual friend Michi-san?" She laughed at the taken-aback look on his face. "He can name a whole community after himself. And maybe the diamond heir can also look into opening emerald mines. I've read Suna has the perfect natural conditions for it."

Junji chuckled heartily. "Now you're thinking like a businesswoman."

"I picked up a thing or two from the best."

"What do you want, Sakura-san?" Junji's earnestness cut through the light air that had been curated from a pleasant afternoon. "I know you are far too busy to play tour guide to a merchant and his daughter."

She gathered her hair over to one side of her shoulder. She leaned back into the bench, crossing her legs first then her arms.

"Hokage-sama is green," she looked Junji dead in the eyes without turning anything other than her neck. "He has good intentions. He has good vision. He has great potential. But he lacks connections. He lacks people he can trust in the various sectors. He needs help." Minato did not know it yet but she did. "The Hokage can only do so much. They can only ask for so much."

"It all runs through the Daimyo," Junji connected the nexus that she led him to. "The post is limited."

"The post is limited," she agreed with a nod. "It relies on mission pay. It pays taxes to the Daimyo. Konoha is fundamentally a shinobi village led by a shinobi economy. But less than half the population is shinobi." The number was closer to forty-two percent and that was being generous as this count included people like her father. A shinobi on paper only. It also included missing shinobi whose bodies were never found in the war. Along with retired shinobi who were practically civilians at this point. And students in The Academy. The real number was probably closer to thirty-seven.

"Meaning," Junjin rubbed his chin with a thoughtful expression. "Half the population is not taken into consideration. The civilian half."

"Your half," she nodded her head.

"So if a civilian, such as myself were to forge a partnership of sorts with the Hokage…," he stared at her expectantly.

"Be an advisor of sorts," she lilted her voice pleasantly, encouragingly. "A liaison between the two worlds."

A bridge.

"I can help the Hokage secure funding for projects, invest in new technology and ideas, leverage my connections and networks that benefit Konoha and Hi, and…."

"Our allies," she finished firmly.

Minato could manage and placate egos as well as anyone. That much she still knew. He would figure out how not to come off as a threat to the Daimyo. Junji could help him - he would help him if he agreed - he had a good relationship with the ruler. She really did not have to do everything herself. Delegating was a valuable skill.

Things will settle for us, once we move some more pieces to the board.

And clear some off.

Right. Then we'll be able to walk away.

Sakura chose not to read into Inner's silence.

"Just one problem," he crossed his arms. "It would be a conflict of interest. Eventually. Down the road. I run a business. It doesn't pass the smell test."

Sakura sighed. Now as the sticking point. "True, it is not without sacrifice." A big one. A massive one. It was his family's business. For generations. "But you would have to travel less."

Junji followed her gaze. It landed on his daughter who was laughing and playing.

"You could set an example closer to home," her voice was soft as it delivered the bitter pill. The one he would have to swallow. If he chose this.

"You want me to make it seem like my idea," he connected the remaining dots. "Gradually."

"It's not on blind faith alone, Junji-san. Speak with him. Form your own opinion. The kunai is in your hand. As well as the pen. It is your decision. I just wanted to stress my confidence and vision for what I believe this partnership could eventually be."

"You wanted to give your endorsement," he smiled wryly. "You are a fast learner."

"I had a good teacher," Sakura smiled with genuineness. "And I really did have a good time this afternoon."

"As did I," Junji sighed. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask," Sakura dipped her head in thanks. "Will you be staying for the Chunin Exams?" It seemed silly to ask but there was danger in the assumption.

"Yes," He nodded his head.

"If I may continue to be so bold," she clicked her tongue. "I wouldn't recommend it for Yuri-chan."

"Yes," Junji regarded his daughter and the innocence held in her. "Her and Rito-san will have a busy day planned. Jam packed with activities." Rito was Yuri's nanny. She was also his wife's nanny - Fumi's. His lips tugged into a smile. "Do you have a suggestion?"

"The second round of the Chunin Exams starts on a Wednesday," Sakura said with a hum. "I suggest the park in the afternoon." Her eyes softened as she took in the talkative girl. She made friends easily. Maybe she could do the same with a little girl who recently had her heart broken.

"Done," Junji crossed his arms. He inhaled air loudly. "As long as you are the one to introduce me to the Hokage."

Sakura blinked at him owlishly, confidence faltering.

"It's only fair. I introduced you to the Daimyo." His face was scrunched up with triumph of besting her. "You still have a ways to go before you can hold a candle to me, my dear."

Sakura scoffed. "Clearly." She sighed in resignation. She leaned forward on the bench just as a pair of very excited feet ran to them.

"I'm hungry!" Yuri announced.

"Sakura-san?" Junji mirrored his daughter's expression as he stared at her, expectantly.

"I know just the place," Sakura grinned from ear to ear.

xXx

"So good!" Yuri gushed as she slurped her noodles loudly.

"Slow down, Yuri-chan," Sakura could not keep the mirth from her voice. She wiped down the errant splatters from the dark green countertop with a napkin.

"Chew your food, Yuri-chan," her father said with hints of exasperation. "You might actually taste it that way."

"I can taste it just fine!" His daughter countered without ever looking up from her bowl. "And noodles are best eaten whole! Everyone knows that."

"See what I'm dealing with?" Junji glared at her. "This is your fault."

"My fault?" Sakura said with a laugh. "You're the one who never gave her ramen before."

"I would have if we had anything even remotely this good back home," he smiled at Teuchi who was just about to ask how everything was. "This is amazing, Teuchi-san. Can I interest you in moving? All expenses paid. You would not have to lift a finger for anything other than making delicious, delicious ramen."

"Hey!" Her expression held betrayal. "Don't do it, Teuchi-san!" Sakura gawked at Junji. "I didn't bring you here just so you could take Teuchi-san and Ichiraku away from us!"

"Your oversight is not my problem," he grinned devilishly. "What do you say Teuchi-san, to franchising?" The fire from paper lanterns danced on the lens of his glasses.

"I don't know what that is, and I do not care to know," Teuchi's hands were on his hips but the smile he wore undermined his rough tone.

Customers moved behind them, past them; voices low, but not quite low enough.

"Is this man here bothering you, Sakura-chan?" The ramen stall owner asked.

"Tochan!" Yuri called out in distress. "Don't get us kicked out."

"Does that happen often?" Sakura asked playfully, placing her head in her palm as she regarded him with sparkling eyes, doing her best to appear indifferent. Maybe doing too much. "You getting kicked out of places?"

"My mouth can get me in trouble," he smiled disarmingly at Teuchi. "And I would never Teuchi-san."

"Good," Teuchi lowered the white towel from his shoulder and used it to wipe his hands. It was subtle but there was a shift in him. His usual smile was more reserved, strained. "She can snap you in half like a toothpick. Just because she chooses not to, doesn't mean she can't." He said louder than necessary. The feet scurried away in the direction of the exit.

Sakura's eyes widened. She looked to Yuri who was peering at her with an unreadable look on her face. Ayame was younger than Yuri. Teuchi should know better than to say such things in front of children. There was no excuse.

"I believe it," Yuri said with a shrug. She went back to eating her ramen completely unbothered.

"W-what?" Sakura blinked at Yuri's father, dumbfounded at the girl's lack of reaction.

Junji chuckled. "She's a tough kid," he smiled with pride. "And you don't have to worry about me, Teuchi-san. I am well aware of my limits," he held up his hands for good measure.

That seemed to soften Teuchi because the man smiled. "Good, good." His gaze landed on Sakura. She straightened her spine out of instinct. "You let me know if anything is off that keeps you from enjoying your meal," he said seriously, face stern. "Anything at all, Sakura-chan."

She nodded her head, moistening her lips with her tongue. "Everything is great, Teuchi-san."

"Good." He glanced around the small stall once more before ducking behind the curtain to start preparing an order.

"I'm sorry about that," Sakura turned her head and murmured lowly, so Yuri's sharp ears would not pick up on it. Her elbow brushed up against his on accident. "Sorry," she lowered her arms to her lap as well as her gaze. Only to look up when she felt warmth against her black long-sleeved shirt.

Junji had crossed the neutral barrier. His head was close to hers. "Don't be," he said softly, quietly. "It's nice to know that someone's looking out for you."

She smiled a little shyly at the gap between their persons. Stomach warming with not just the ramen she had consumed. "So now you know why I would never let you take Teuchi-san away."

He leaned back, giving her space to raise her head and combat the color taken by her cheeks. His laugh was deep and honest.

"How could I take him away now? I'm not heartless, you know."

I know.

She turned back to her ramen. She picked up her chopsticks and continued to eat slowly. Yuri's voice filled the comfortable silence, pushing it away and away.

xXx

"Can we eat here again tomorrow?" Yuri asked with a bright smile and glimmering, glistening hope in her blue, blue eyes.

"How is that even a question?" Junji jostled their interconnected hands.

"Yay!" Yuri jumped up in the air.

Sakura did not think her smile could get any bigger as she watched the pair interact. The stall was behind them and the streets were gradually becoming more and more full. Her feet were pointed in the direction of The Tower.

Not much longer now.

It was fun while it lasted.

"Are you full?" Sakura asked the pair.

"So full," Yuri patted her stomach to illustrate. "I can't eat another bite."

"Too bad," Sakura frowned. "I know a place that has ice cream and it's not too far of a walk from here."

Junji sighed dramatically causing his daughter to stare at him with her big eyes. "It really is too bad."

"No!" Juri whined. "I'm not too full. I can have ice cream. I like ice cream. Can I please have ice cream?" She pleaded with her father, pulling on his shirt. "Please, Tochan!"

"But you said-"

"There's always room for ice cream, Tochan! Everyone knows that!" Yuri huffed in frustration with her father's lack of awareness regarding anything remotely useful. "Tell him, Sakura!"

"She's right," Sakura nodded her head dutifully, backing up the claim. "Everyone has something called a dessert stomach," she said in a voice that exuded trust-me-I'm-a-doctor energy.

"Please don't encourage her," Junji deadpanned.

"Too late!" Yuri chirped. "I'm excited now. You can't make me waste it."

"Ouch," Sakura winced at the morally and emotionally binding obligation. "She's right again."

Junji had the audacity to look betrayed.

"Come on, Tochan," Yuri tried to pull him along. "Let's go!"

"Where are we going exactly?" Junji asked his daughter, halting her movements.

Her face flushed. She looked to Sakura for help.

"It's just around-"

"I can smell it from here, 'ttebane! So, so, so good!" A loud voice gushed, pulling all their attention to the exuberant face of one Uzumaki Kushina who was in the middle of a very detailed and vocal fantasy of her devouring a bowl of ramen. Swinging her interconnected hand with her companion without a care or worry.

"Pretty," Yuri breathed in awe.

She truly was, in her white flowing top tucked into her plum-colored skirt that grazed her ankles. Hair tossed over one shoulder in a waterfall of scarlet. Thin dangling earrings - gold - hung from her ears, complimenting the bracelet around her right wrist. Radiant in her happiness - painted in the joy that could not be contained in her heart. With a glow that completely overtook the waning sun. She was consuming. She was everything. She was breathtaking.

But it was not Kushina that her eyes were on, they were locked in place by a cobalt gaze. They widened slightly when recognition filled them. The understanding turned them turbulent. Unreadable.

"Minato, why did you suddenly become a statue, datte-," Kushina froze in the answer she received to her own question. The smile completely melted off her face at the sight of a head of pink hair.

Sakura felt Junji shuffle next to her. She dipped her head in greeting first toward Kushina then the off-duty Hokage. His cloak was nowhere to be found. In fact, he was out of his normal Jonin attire. A white collared shirt, cuffs rolled up to the crook of his elbows and dark pants. He had dressed up for his impromptu date night - even managing to attempt to tame his hair. A night to thank his wife for her patience with the longer hours he had been pulling for the upcoming exams.

So you took my advice after all.

Sakura lifted her head. "Uzumaki-sama, Hokage-sama, good evening," she stared at the gap between their two bodies, just over their shoulders.

"Sakura-san," Minato lowered his head to return the greeting, voice unfamiliar and stiff.

Kushina seemed content to just glower at her, in accusations that were a hundred percent true but nearly impossible to prove. Her jaw was clenched tight. No words were going to eke out of it.

"This is Tezuka Junji-san. I ran into him by chance near the front gates just as the carriage arrived." Sakura gestured to the merchant who was studying her closely. Covertly. Cobalt eyes that had initially flitted over the man repeated the motion but with context. He did not show his surprise. The context switch had been seamless. Gone was off-duty Hokage to be replaced with his on-duty counterpart. Just like that.

"Junji-san, this is Hokage-sama and Uzumaki-sama," Sakura completed the introduction, a smile held up by her stubbornness.

Sakura brought her hands behind her back as the merchant bowed.

"Hokage-sama, Uzumaki-sama," he smiled at them warmly. "Nice to meet you." Everything that he carried himself with spoke to that fact.

Minato and Kushina straightened from their bows of greeting. "Tezuka-san," Minato's smooth voice sliced the air. "It is a pleasure. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow morning. It was quite a pleasant surprise to receive the news of your arrival from Sakura-san." The news in the form of a note scrawled messily due to a quick hand moved by nerves and disbelief.

"Ah yes," Jurji chuckled in a sheepish manner. "Many apologies for that Hokage-sama. It appears my letter got lost in the mail. I hope that you did not have to move too many things around on my behalf."

"Not at all," Minato smiled as his voice put Junji's apprehensions to rest. "I am very glad you're here. It's just too bad we were unable to receive you in the manner we hoped to."

"Ah," Junji nodded his head. "Please do not hold any worry regarding that," he smiled warmly at the kunoichi to his left. "Sakura-san gave us quite a warm welcome."

She did not look away from the horizon over their shoulders. But two pairs of eyes joined the initial. Their gazes heated her skin for different reasons.

"Just as well," Minato smiled but it did not reach his eyes which had migrated back to the merchant. He maintained eye contact in intervals that were deemed polite for two people meeting for the first time. "Please allow me to extend the welcome, officially. Welcome to Konoha."

"Yes, welcome, Tezuka-san. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable," Kushina bowed again, smiling softly to the ground. Her hands were folded in front of her. She was trying very hard not to embarrass Minato as she played the role of Hokage's wife in public. Very well and dutifully.

"Thank you, Uzumaki-sama," Junji bowed in her direction, never letting his eyes settle on her person for more than a second at a time. "The hospitality your home has shown is second to none," he glanced at Sakura from the corner of his eye. She had not moved.

Yuri shuffled on her feet, backing up until she was between Sakura and her father, suddenly becoming very shy. She blushed when Kushina smiled at her.

"Who is this?" The redhead asked kindly.

"This my daughter," Junji reached for Yuri's hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Yuri-chan, say hello to Hokage-sama and Uzumaki-sama."

"Hello," the girl mumbled after bowing to each of them. She did not let go of her father's hand. It was her lifeline. Her tether.

"Aren't you the cutest thing?" Kushina gushed. Her purple eyes sparkled. All the unsavory emotions that had settled into them were long gone. Clear and reflective. Pure. Just like her heart as she interacted with another pure-hearted innocent soul.

"Isn't she the cutest thing, Minato?" Kushina looked up expectantly at her husband.

The blond Hokage smiled kindly at the girl. "Nice to meet you, Yuri-chan."

"Nice to meet you," she murmured. Her face turned even more red, color reaching her ears. Redder than Kushina's nickname. "You have pretty hair, Uzumaki-sama," she said to the ground, tracing circles in the dirt with her foot.

"Thank you!" Kushina beamed at her, becoming somehow even more beautiful at the compliment. "And Kushina-san is just fine," she waved off the excessive formality.

"Can we interest you in dinner?" Minato addressed the merchant, ignoring Sakura's presence completely. Leaving the pinkette to wonder for a second if she was wearing her mask and if they had regressed to what the Yondaime and Loris were just a few weeks ago. A comrade did not let another comrade walk into a trap blind. But she outdid even that. She was the one who sprung it.

"Too full," Yuri chirped without thinking. She slapped a hand on her mouth, eyes going wide as it occurred to her that she said that out loud.

Kushina giggled. Minato's lips tugged into a kind smile. Junji adjusted his glasses.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama but we already ate," Junji translated to provide additional context.

"We're getting ice cream now!" The girl added, emboldened by the kind response from the two new adults.

"Yum!" Kushina's eyes lit up even more. "We should do that too," she looked at her husband with a not-too-different child-like-eagerness that Yuri had shown earlier. "Thank you for the good idea, Yuri-chan!"

"It was Sakura's!" Yuri pointed to the silent woman.

Kushina's smile did not recede in size but her eyes grew colder. A darker violet. She did not look in the direction of Sakura which was fine by the medic. She had her own fake smile to worry about holding in place.

Minato cleared his throat. All eyes were on him - nearly. Emerald was staring at the scenic view before her like she wanted the long-gone sun to blind her retinas forever. Maybe if she stared at Kushina long enough, it would have the same end result. But then she would have to look directly at her and Sakura was not ready for that.

"We should let you get back to your evening," he dipped his head. "See you tomorrow, Tezuka-san."

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

Heads bowed. Parting farewells were exchanged. Clothing shuffled. And feet moved. She could breathe again once the pair had ducked into the ramen stand and their little trio had put more than half a block's worth of distance between them.

"You alright?" Junji did not pull his spoon from his soft serve whose peak was starting to melt.

"Fine," Sakura smiled, not nearly convincingly enough. She did not touch her ice cream in a cup either. "I get a little sleepy after eating," she said half-heartedly. "It's the carbs," she continued to embellish the claim to the end of making it somewhat believable.

The merchant clicked his tongue but he did not comment further. "How's the ice cream?"

"So good," Yuri said with a deep satisfied exhale. "I like ice cream."

"I like ice cream too," Sakura chuckled with a little more lightness.

Yuri kicked her feet on the bench between the adults.

"Don't think I don't see you," Junji murmured, his eyes sharp and focused on her.

"Hm?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was not used to socializing for this long continuously and with so many different people.

"The not-so-chance encounter," Junji pressed.

"I resent the implication."

The implication she knew his schedule and purposely timed everything since the moment after he made her promise to introduce him to the Kage. The implication she wanted Minato to see her with Junji. The implication she thought it would not hurt to see the couple together as husband and wife for the first time. The implication she wanted all this to happen tonight, when she was filled with lightness and ease so that she could prove that she was capable enough to do her job three days from now. The implication she needed more practice in order to be successful. The implication she manipulated everyone and everything so that it suited her.

Like always.

She pulled her spoon to her mouth. The sweet strawberry was tasteless. The ache in her chest made it hard to really enjoy anything. It made it impossible to be present in company she did not mind in the slightest. The company that she actually enjoyed.

"I'm not implying anything." For the first time, something akin to impatience bled into his voice. "You did that on purpose."

Yes. But why?

Why did she want Minato to see her with Junji? Did she think it would make him feel a modicum as empty as it made her feel when she saw him with Kushina? Did she want him to know that she was closer to the merchant than she alluded to when she suggested inviting him to Konoha to help rebuild not only the village but maybe Suna? Did she want to see them together so that she could give her heavy heart reassurances and irrefutable proof that they were in their happily ever after? Did she want Kushina to know that Sakura was not interested in pursuing her husband? Or did she just not want Junji to have to interact with a clone?

Did she even know why?

"It's like you said, Junji-san," she hummed as she returned her spoon to the small white disposable cup. She would have to throw away the ice cream. Her stomach was churning too much. "I'm far too busy to not seek efficiency."

He did not find the answer satisfactory but he would accept it. What other option did he have? He underestimated her. A mistake he would not be making again.

---

It felt as if she had not stopped moving - not even once - in the past couple of days. Maybe because it was the case. Sleep - she did not know how good she had it until now - was very much a relic of the past that she planned on being reunited with once this was all behind her - behind all of them. She was a silent shadow. Watching. Listening. No more noticeable than a fly on the wall but much more deadly and high-strung.

The rest of the Hokage Guard - because she refused to call it what Minato did: The Hokage Specialized Protection Unit. Or SPU for short - were outside the building, ready at the spike of a chakra signature to storm the inside of the building. The Yondaime did not need more eyes and ears on him. He was at his limit with the Kage from Suna and his entourage. His own ANBU unit of five elite members and one medical shinobi. A man with a dusty-brown head of hair. A face seemingly molded by the winds of Suna, broad shoulders, and a towering frame. Nakamura Masato. The man was an imposing force and not just because he was a head taller than anyone else. He might even be taller than Jiraiya.

She moved along the ceiling. Sakura's body, influenced by chakra, did not know of its upside-down orientation. As such an orientation was dangerous for the brain. Certainly for the hours that she remained that way. As far as her body knew, she was right side up. She watched through narrowed eyes obscured by the blank mask hidden away by the perfect genjutsu that only the strongest of eyes could see through. Not a modicum of chakra was misallocated into anything but the keeping of the illusion. There was no heaviness, no warping, no indications that she was there at all.

But he knew. He knew where she was at any given time. She was right where he could count on her - where he could anticipate her to be. She listened with only half an ear and even less of a brain as Minato continued on with the tour of Konoha. Today the focus was the hospital and The Academy. They had finished The Academy tour. The children ran to the windows and doors trying desperately to catch a glimpse of not just one Kage but two. She was focused, she was working, so she did not dwell on the feelings Mai's face surrounded by those of strangers - those that belonged to clans from the similarities that she saw - did to her insides. She would deny the way Midori's face flashed in her mind. She would always deny that. Because she was working and that meant no distractions.

They had lunch and now was the final leg of the tour, the hospital. The five ANBU, the two Kage, and the Suna medic walked down the halls collaging them the same way cholesterol did to arteries. It was impractical the way the Kazekage traveled. Two ANBU in the front. One on each side. One in the back. Minato walked next to the Kazekage, stretching the width of the formation even more. The hospital hallways were not designed for it. The medic was a step behind the Kage accompanied by the hospital administrator - Hiroto Sada. The Head Medic was pulled into an emergency surgery. A squad came back from a mission roughed up on account of them not reading a map correctly. She was sure that the Hokage would have words with the Jonin instructor about this later when there was not quite an audience and things stabilized.

Her clone was in that very surgery assisting. But by the tapering off of the additional chakra demand, she knew it was just about wrapped up. It was a struggle for her to not view the mass as what it was - an impediment, an inconvenience - with the eyes of a medic. She reminded herself that yes, while it momentarily made life harder in the interim, it would ultimately benefit the hospital long-term. That was the intention anyway.

She used her other ear and the remaining parts of her brain she could spare to listen to the large man and the admin. He was being grilled with questions.

"...Nakamura-san," Hiroto dabbed at his perspiring forehead and upper lip with an off-white handkerchief. His dark glasses were fogged up from his breath. "I am not all too certain but I can ask the Head Medic and-"

"Get back to me," Masato shook his head. His hair settled against his shoulders. "You have to see my apprehensions. I am in a considerable amount of discomfort so naturally, I am not at my best. And it appears I am not the only one." He paused to deepen his frown. "My questions are not designed to confuse, Sada-san."

Liar.

His questions were designed just to do that. They were seemingly simple surface-level questions and most people would leave it at that. But those who knew what was the true intention - or what truly was being asked - could see that the questions built on top of each other like blocks. It was designed that way so that no one felt outwardly like an idiot for just getting the first part or even to the second stage because they would fail to realize levels three through five of the question. It was a good way to measure understanding and expertise without risking offense. For most people who knew the subject material.

But then there were people like Sada Hiroto who did not know his hand from his foot. And in all fairness, he was not supposed to be the one to answer these questions. He was not a medic. Uyeda Noboru - the Head Medic and face of the hospital - was supposed to be the one to do so. Uyeda Noboru was not supposed to be pulled into surgery to save three genin lives. A team that had not registered for the exams because their sensei did not recommend them.

For good reason.

She started to fluctuate her chakra very slightly, a distress signal. One that only one other entity in the hospital would notice. Maybe two at most, if he was not too preoccupied with thinking of a way out of this mess. This was not his domain. She told him the hospital was handled and not to worry about it. Her words were coming back to bite her now.

"How about bisbane? Surely there is some on hand? It grows in the mountains and cliffy hillsides. I think it could really aid in soothing some of the blistering." Masato continued to apply pressure. He scratched his arm for good measure causing the skin to flake. Hiroto tried not to make his disgust and queasiness that obvious. Even as he took half a step back it was as much as he could take as the ANBU pinned him in.

There is nothing they came into contact with in Konoha that could cause this reaction.

"Maybe we should have someone from the botany department take a look," Minato looked over his shoulder at the medic and admin. "We still have the sample of the plant, yes?"

The plant is a red herring, it's completely benign.

But Hiroto's inability to see through the farce was far from benign. The Kazekage's deep frown spoke to his lack of confidence in the hospital and in the treaty. And that was the reason why Sakura's teeth were pushed up together.

Hurry.

She continued to pulse her chakra just enough to get her message across. She let out a sigh of relief only for her heart to skip a beat when a head of pink hair appeared from around the corner, moving with feigned non-rushed movements.

Alone?! Baka. You were supposed to bring the Head Medic with you.

She can't read your mind, Sakura. Work with what you have.

Minato was the first one to spot her. "Sakura-san," he addressed her clone, voice carrying over everything despite its soft volume. "Could you come here for a moment, please?"

Her clone eyed the shape that was in her way, tepidly. She made no movement to obey the Hokage's polite order. "It might just be easier for you to come to me, Hokage-sama," she answered with a sigh. She was a clone but even that did not spare her eyes from being slightly above lackluster. They were so dull.

Am I always like that?

Worse.

Loris's attention was pulled when Hiroto broke free from the formation. He was encouraging Masato to follow him. But just not too closely.

"Nakamura-san, here, here," he parked himself in front of Sakura, visibly relieved. "Sakura-san, I need you to take a look at Nakamura-san's arm. He brushed up against something while touring The Academy. He didn't notice anything until after lunch. It got worse progressively, quickly after the initial moment the first blister appeared. It spread quickly in just the last couple of minutes. You don't think the temperature change could have caused it to flare up, do you? He thinks maybe bris-," the admin looked at the man, tilting his head all the way back.

"Bisbane," Masato answered with dismissal in his tone.

Her clone had not failed to notice the way he had raked his gaze over her, not impressed in the slightest by her facade.

Be good. Sakura - the original- held her breath.

The clone held out her hand. "May I?" She asked in a pleasant voice. The man brought his large arm toward her palm. Sweltering and painful looking, her clone regarded the rash without her expression changing.

Loris and all other eyes - they had gawkers in the hall that were rubbernecking - were on her clone. So Loris failed to notice that Minato's shoulders were not quite as tense as before ever since the unofficial handoff of responsibility.

"Bisbane?" Sakura asked, flicking her eyes over to the man's face.

"It's a plant. Medicinal. Small white flowers in groups of five. The stem contains a sap that can be used to soothe the irritation. And the flowers can be ground up to make a painkiller," he sighed in exasperation at yet another Konoha-affiliated person with less than confidence-inducing competence. "And judging by the blank look on your face and glassy eyes, you've never heard of it. Figures," he punctuated with a scoff.

"Maybe we should get the Head Medic." All the color had drained from Hiroto's face. He too lost faith in the brightest medical mind they had. "Maybe it would help if you saw the plant?" His dark eyes pleaded with her to save him. Or to buy them more time at least by asking a million questions while she faked her way through a triage.

"No need," Sakura did not so much as glance up at the plant encased in plastic that one of the Suna ANBU was moving to hand to her. White Sage. Completely harmless. She could feel all their eyes and the collective breath being held by the Konoha medical staff. Their pride and reputation were on the line.

Please be good. The original coaxed her clone, sending a wave of chakra to let her know to tread cautiously.

"The reason," the clone sighed, lowering the man's arm and looking directly at him, the back of her neck complaining at the angle. "My face looks like this, is that I am not amused by a ploy to waste both time and resources. Two valuable commodities that are best utilized saving lives in a building such as this."

Shit. Loris hung her head.

See what I have to put up with day in and day out?

Murmurs broke out. They were starting to build. Masato was starting to turn red. Only the two Kage remained stoic, not reacting to the change in the environment. The uptick in hostility.

"How dar-"

The clone did not let him finish. She touched her fingertips to his arm with speed a mere medic could never counter no matter the amount of evasion training. Green chakra glew. They watched as the rash spread from his arm to his temple. Blistering and red. Welts fat with puss. Angry.

"Sakura!" Hiroto snapped at her before grabbing his stomach and doubling over. "You made it worse!" He moaned in pain, with his eyes closed. He along with gnarly everyone else was so fixated by the picture that they completely overlooked what was missing: odor.

Two Suna ANBU took a step toward her. Loris narrowed her eyes.

Make it fast.

"Clever," the clone curled her lip, her voice made it clear she thought it was anything but. Emerald glared at a pea green. "A made-up plant for a made-up rash." She withdrew her chakra and immediately the rash receded down to where it had been. Localized to his arm. Just a small patch of red against warm stone-colored skin.

There were loud gasps, none louder than from Hiroto's mouth.

The clone crossed her arms. "It's just chakra, Hokage-sama, that is being manipulated to take the form it has. Once it is pulled back into the coils the rash," she spat the word, "will be all better," she looked around the massive mountain at her Kage as she explained. She returned her eyes to the medic before her. "Hope we passed your little test." Her lips barely moved as she said in a low voice so only Masato would hear.

You're good. But I'm better. Her eyes conveyed him, imposed on him.

She bowed lowly in the direction of the red-haired man who had not uttered a word. "Welcome to Konoha, Kazekage-sama." She straightened. "Now if I may be excused, I have work I need to get back to. Uyeda-sama is just cleaning up. He will join you all shortly and please do try to keep what I said in mind," she kissed her teeth as her eyes grazed over Masato's. She bowed in the direction of the Hokage.

"Thank you, Sakura-san," warmth and gratitude filled his tone.

The clone turned on her heel and left without haste or a glance over her shoulder.

Loris froze when his eyes found her position. His lips tugged into a smirk.

Her heart skipped a beat. Undeniable. Irrefutable. Inconvenient.

Shit.

"Who was that?" Masato asked loudly, blinking. Dazed at being shown up the way he was. With egg dripping off of his face.

That was Sakura, bitch.

Don't encourage the clones, Inner.

Even if the clone had not done anything Sakura herself probably would not have. It was the fastest way to get to the bottom of the escalating situation. Most direct too. It had just been nerve-wracking to see it all unfold from a new perspective, a new vantage.

"Shall we continue the tour?" Minato asked pleasantly, pulling everyone's attention. "We still have to see the greenhouses."

"Of course," Rasa nodded his head curtly as if nothing out of the norm had just taken place.

"Great," Minato smiled as he resumed walking. The formation picked up its feet just as Sakura moved along the ceiling, wondering to herself if she was always like this.

---

"You were right," Junji's cheeks were tinged a soft pink from the warm sake. The air that nipped at his skin was not helping.

"Can you be more specific please?" She asked with raised brows. "I'm right a lot." She grinned behind her cup. "Like a lot." She flicked dust off of her legs, the one that was outstretched on the panic blanket. The other was folded, the bottom of her foot pressed against her thigh.

He laughed, shaking his head. "I suppose that is true." Junji tilted his head back to regard the stars overhead. "Kami, Konoha is beautiful."

"It is," Sakura mused, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers. From the grassy hill, they had nice views of the village. It was not quite as nice as the monument but it was the best she could do given Junji was a civilian. A trek up the mountainside was not as easy for him. And she really did not want to be wearing the dinner they had with his daughter if shushin did not sit right with him.

Yuri had been sent to bed under the care of her nanny Rito. A kind woman that Sakura liked right away. It was clear in just the five-minute interaction she had with the woman just how deeply she cared about Yuri as if the girl was her own.

"Your Hokage is an amazing man," Junji turned his head away but not in time. She caught him staring. "A good man. A sharp man. He had Yuri-chan's seal of approval. She is smitten with him."

She hummed, not interested in taking the bait at worst or engaging in light conversation around the subject at best. "So the meeting went well, I take it?" She had not pushed her luck. She did not eavesdrop. She did all she could. It was up to Minato to sink or swim on his own. She had to show with action that her words to Junji were more than just an empty sentiment. She believed in Minato. She had faith in Minato.

"It did," he nodded his head empathically, impacted slightly by his buzz. He moved a hand through his hair, mussing the careful arrangement. "It went really well." He frowned at her. "You didn't wear your dress for me."

She bared her teeth at him. "You didn't ask," she pulled at the fabric around her legs. "I like pants better."

"They suit you," his eyes crinkled. "You look good like this too. Better even. More…"

"Of a mess?" She offered.

"More like yourself," he corrected with a muted frown and a head shake.

"I'm sorry about the eyes," Sakura addressed the large elephant that was wedged between them. "Being myself is not without considerable drawbacks." A strain filled her eyes as she grimaced. "I regret that Yuri-chan was subjected to that." Even if the girl did not seem to notice. Either that or she was a very good actor.

"And here I thought everyone was looking at me because of my new haircut," he scoffed incredulously, smoothing his salt and pepper hair against his scalp.

"It does look very nice," she placated his pout with a playful smile. One that did not last long on her face. She traced the outline of her knee with her index finger. Mindlessly drawing the oval. Over and over and over again. Falling victim to her own mind and where it held her captive.

Junji nearly drained all his sake from his cup with one loud sip. Sakura blinked at him in question, turning her head just enough to spare him a side-long glance.

"Would," Junji cleared his throat, striking his fist against his sternum to help the alcohol and its effects down. "Would you take advice from those people? The ones whose words and eyes you carry around with you?" He pressed his fingers between her shoulder blades, forcing her to straighten her back, correcting her hunched-over frame. The one that reduced the amount of space she took up in the world. "Would you, Sakura-san?"

"No," she did not have to think about the answer she knew to be true.

"So why do you take their criticism? Why do you listen to the poison they spill?" The poison that burned her ears and weakened her heart, making it more susceptible to pain. "They don't know you."

You don't let them know you. She could hear the sentiment in his head as clearly as if his lips had moved to say it out loud.

"I don't care," she bit the corner of her mouth at his scoff. He clearly did not believe her. His hand moved down to the blanket, smoothing the already wrinkle-free fabric. "I don't care about what they say to me - say about me - not most of them anyway. I just," she closed her eyes. It was all so overwhelming. "I just don't want my presence to badly affect those I care about. I don't want them to have to hear it. I don't want them to have to suffer because of me. I don't want-"

"It's not about you," Junji cut her off uncharacteristically harshly. "It's not about what you want, about what you decide or try to control," his eyes held a patience that his tone had no consideration for. "It's up to the people you care about to decide." His hand covered hers. Preventing her from picking at her hangnail. The one she could only leave alone when she was wearing her gloves. When she was Loris. When it was out of sight.

"It's for the people who care about you to decide." He was frowning in earnest now. "You can't keep making decisions for others," he said sternly with the goal that it would resonate with her.

Her eyes had yet to open up again as his voice - his words - washed over her. Covering every bit of her it could.

Junji-san…I wish I met you when I was younger. When I was struggling with my memories. When I was alone and had no one to turn to. I wish, I wish, I met you and Fumi-san.

Sakura. Inner said her name gently. In her own way reminding Sakura that she was not alone. It was not safe to sit with her feelings - her thoughts. Especially ones of this nature. Not with an audience. No matter how kind.

Maybe that way…if I could have someone like you both, I could have been different. Things could have been different.

Seeing him with Yuri, filled her with a warmth that was borrowed. A warmth that was left over - residual - from the two of them. Father and daughter. It spilled over the love, the need they had for one another, into her - an empty vessel. Unlike them, to her, it was a foreign entity. She could never hold it for long. It was as stark as the difference between a mammal and a reptile. A reptile needed something external to warm its blood. It needed light. It did not matter how many pushups a lizard did in the sun or how long it sat unmoving on a hot rock, fully sprawled out. Eventually, all the warmth - all the heat - would leave it. Because it was not designed to do anything more than hold warmth - it could not make its blood warm. It was simply not designed to be that way. What came inherently to mammals - they did not have to think about it - was something a reptile would always have to seek out. It was borrowed.

She borrowed their light, their love and that kept her a float. But her blood - her heart - had cooled. Her insides were empty once again. That was her fate. She was empty. She was hollow. She was not designed to be loved. For she could love and she did love. But she was not meant to be loved.

Not for who she was completely. They could appreciate and maybe even love parts of her, but no one could love her completely.

And I accept that.

For the most part, she did. Sometimes she forgot and that was when the friction and the dissatisfaction were born. She was trying to be something she could never be.

Silence surrounded them. The silence allowed Sakura to firmly grip her composure. For her to fill, smooth, and cover the cracks of her exterior. Becoming a non-permeable layer that prevented Junji's words - his sentiment - from sinking into her.

Because letting go was hard for her. It has always been hard. She was just born with that deficiency. She did not have that ability. Or maybe she just did not want to take accountability. She cleared her throat roughly, blinking her eyes open. They were red but dry. She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth. An unnatural smile - artificial - plastered on her lips.

"So a career change?" She asked teasingly, eyebrows wiggling as they circled back. She was not quite sober either so she chose to lean in.

"In all due time, my dear. If things continue to walk this path. But I will help rebuild Suna. If they will have me. Bring on peace!" He moved his hand from hers, withdrawing his warmth. He held a curled fist above his head, pulsing it as if there were hoards of people below the cliff changing "peace" up at him.

She giggled to the point her stomach hurt. Delirious in her desperation to be something other than sad or broken.

"So?" He asked her.

"So what?" She wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to regain her breath.

"Will you come with me? With us? Yuri-chan and I?" He did not blink as he stared into her eyes. "It will take as much as two years. You can be part of the shinobi core that protects me and my men."

Because not everyone would be open and welcoming to the idea of a foreigner - did not matter if he was a civilian - building in their home. A foreigner who was on the other side of the war line. Shinobi handpicked from Hi and Kaze would be slated with the responsibility of ensuring this project of hope did not become the reason for yet another war. If Suna agreed.

There were a lot of ifs and maybes and variables but if they pulled it off, this would be Minato's legacy. Not the Kyuubi Attack. Not all the horrible things that happened to his team in the war. Not sealing the Nine-Tails in his own son. Not dying young.

It was huge. Both the potential for payoff and chaos. Going would ensure she had some control over it. And she may have. If she did not know about Haruno Sakura. She would have if she did not have a mission given to her by Naruto and the Sage. She would have if she did not know of the future. She would have if she did not have Kakashi, Rin, Obito, and Anko to worry about. She would have because she could use a break from all this. She would have.

"You're young, Sakura," he reminded her. "You don't have to subject yourself to this, to a lifetime of this. It's not too late. You have options. You can find plenty of options." His broken expression implored her to reconsider her path, her direction. "You can live your life."

It's too late for that, Junji-san.

"I'm sorry," she breathed her apology into the night sky. "I can't." She was mildly surprised her voice held. Her throat had gone scratchy.

"I understand."

Of course he would. He would not love another. He would not have another. He understood better than anyone. And maybe that was why he had tried to convince her otherwise. Maybe he was trying to convince himself that it was possible. Because if she could pick up the pieces and move on, maybe there was hope for days without loneliness that completely overwhelmed and hollowed.

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice. So, so distant.

For being there for him when I can't. For everything.

"They make a beautiful couple. A good couple. A strong couple. The kind my Fumi and I would be proud and thankful to call friends," he brought his cup to the blue and white blanket.

"I'm sure they would be delighted at that praise," Sakura traced the shape of a square. Over and over.

"You were right about his wife too," Junji scrunched his face slightly as he stared off into the horizon. "I had the opportunity to have lunch at their home with them, very welcoming. She is all those things you said she was. And more."

She sighed. She was not surprised. But she was curious. "What gave it away?" She finished off her cup. She reached to refill it.

"You lost all your light the minute we were surrounded by theirs. A total eclipse," Junji sighed heavily. He turned to her, holding out his own for her to refill. "I never would have asked you for the introduction if I had known, Sakura-san. I am sorry-"

"You didn't know," she cut off his apology and along with it his culpability. "You didn't know," she said softly, reaching out to rest her hand over his. Her smile was sad and muted as she held his gaze. "I made my own decisions."

She did. There was no one else she could blame. For better or for worse. This was the life she made with her choices. And she was living with them.

"Nevertheless," he patted the back of her hand. Fingertips moving along her knuckles.

"I know," she said with a small sigh. "I know." She refilled both of their cups, handing him his.

"Being in Konoha. Being here. Seeing what I saw. Experiencing what I saw made me miss my Fumi all the more," he brought the heel of his palm to the center of his chest. Tapping it twice with force. "It all reminds me of how empty I am; how hollow."

She hummed again, clicking her white cup with his. She clicked her tongue. "What else was I right about?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he cleared his throat and blinked back the tears. "Nothing comes to top of mind," his voice caught before it broke completely.

"Tell me about the day the two of you first met," she said in a soft voice. One filled with patience. "The day you became a goner."

He chuckled wetly. He covered his mouth, unable to hold back a sob. She freed up his hand so he could curl it to his eye to join the other that was already there. She knocked back both the sake cups barely pausing to breathe. It might as well have been water. His grief left her completely sober.

She patted his back slowly, repeatedly; only stopping when he had let what had built up, out. He did not hold back. If only she could do the same. It would be incredibly irresponsible. She would never stop crying if she started.