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.

12. Part Twelve: Regret

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

---

Warnings: Languag and just about everything else that has been consistent with this story.

A/N:

Hello there!

Since no one really complained about the length...I did it again. This chapter as you may have guessed from the name, will not be fun at times. I also want to apologize for how it looks visually. Sakura and Inner have a conversation and so there is a lot of this at times. And it's ugly and not great for the eyes.

Thank you all so much for your continued support and investment in this story. We may only have one more chapter after this, but there is still much to happen. Let's get on with it!

Until next time,

~L.H.

---

Part 12: Regret

The dark, solid, confidently drawn lines on the white paper in front of her were starting to cross. She leaned back on her heels. The short wooden desk had no surface that was not covered in parchment of some sort. The seal was immaculate, perfect despite being recreated from memory. Her clone had confirmed it when she stood in the mouth of Gamakagi.

Listless jade-colored eyes scanned the fine craftsmanship of the Shodaime's and Mito's home, Tsunade-sama's home. It was serving as her makeshift shelter for the duration of her supposed soul-searching mission which coincided with her ban from the hospital.

Stay close.

She lowered her face into her arms. His words became her sentence. But even she had to admit it was necessary - this quiet period - it allowed her to take inventory and it was a less than rosy picture. Every time she blinked, pictures of seals swam in her mind. Even in her dreams, she was surrounded by nothing but seals. Seals and seals. And more seals.

At least hiding in plain sight using disguises without chakra breaks up the monotony of your days.

Because she needed to eat, she was doing more of it these days, as in eating twice the amount of calories she needed. All in preparation for a contingency on top of her planned contingencies. A contingency for the contingencies she hoped they would not need.

Her eyelashes closed heavily over her eyes. She drifted off to sleep. Her mind subconsciously continued to analyze every angle of the seal in front of her.

---

S,

The sapling is fine. Fine as in alive and acclimating to its new surrounding. The earth here is not quite as loamy as it is used to. But it is managing. I am optimistic that things will settle down and the roots will grow strong.

And before you take up more pages or airways, no I will not be giving you any more details. You trusted me enough with this. So trust me enough to keep it in the same condition you set it off with me. More or less.

And if that was not clear…that was a joke. Because lighten up. I did not read the entirety of your letter - learn how to summarize, Gaki! But rest assured N. did and he has a handle on all the particularness of this particular variety. He wanted me to tell you that.

I have included a little present. I am sure it will come in handy to cover up your uneven complexion. It goes on white and will blend in as it warms. You can add dyes to change up the color to suit your needs. You're welcome, for making you a little less rough around the edges.

T.G.J.

She furrowed her brow as she watched the page burn in the beige, chipped bathroom sink, remembering his words particularly his last collection of them. The expression in her reflection was dubious. She held up the small container, the soft cackles of the parchment being reduced to ash were comforting white noise. She brought the open container under her nose and gave it a sniff.

It doesn't smell like anything…except maybe baby powder?

I wouldn't put it past the pervert to be pulling our leg here. It could just be Geisha makeup.

"It could," she hummed in agreement. It was notorious for removing and that was before the conditional addition of a seal or chakra added to it. She set the container down on the vanity. Bringing her index and pointer fingers to it. Sakura swiped at the top until she had enough to coat the digits in the white airy paste. "It doesn't feel heavy," she squinted as she studied it. For minutes. Because she had too much time on her hands.

She brought her fingers to her forehead, rubbing a circle until the purple rhombus of her Byakugo was covered by a smear of stark white, like she had taken a paintbrush and just patched her forehead with it.

"I feel stupid," she grumbled as she waited for the so-called war paint to do something other than being a horrible eye sore. She could picture Jiraiya giggling like a schoolgirl knowing he pulled one on her. She let out a sound caught between a groan and a sigh reaching for a small gray face towel, she snatched it from the counter top, muttering under her breath, eyes on the pile of slate ash at the bottom of her sink. She turned on the water, just the cold tap and dampened a corner of the towel until all the fibers were heavy and a shade darker. She raised both her eyes and the towel to her forehead in her reflection.

"Whoa," she lowered her right hand, opting instead to raise her left and poke and prod her skin. Sakura leaned forward, angling her head, pushing her hair out of the way, contorting her body to see herself in various shades of light. Her lips tugged downward. "The son of bitch was right," she murmured softly in awe. It was perfect. The coverup was so clean that she nearly asked herself if she activated her Genjutsu disguise out of pure habit.

Sakura ran the wet edge of the towel, blotting it to her forehead. The water beads transferred onto the surface of her skin. Skin that remained a milk cream and not a dark lilac. She turned off the tap. The ashes floated at the top of the gray water. She screwed the lid back on the plastic tub, tucking the paint into the top right drawer of her vanity. Before she could close it however, something caught her eye. Shiny. Jade irises found her reflection, the lines of her face became contemplative.

xXx

Her fingers ran down the file, tapping on the laminated casing. It was broken up visually into six rows. Small color photographs with unsmiling faces to the left of the boxes. Names under the photo along with code names. And some identifiers. Date of birth, sex, height, weight, dominant hand, natural chakra affinities, notable scars or characteristics, and a date. A date. A month and a year for some and just a year for others.

The office was dark. Only the desk lamp was on. It was both small enough and far away enough that from the door - from the hall - no one could tell that was the case. The overhead canned lights - five of them - were left undisturbed in their off position. Sakura spun in the leather chair slowly, lips pulled into a frown. Her eyes were fixed on one face - one picture. A slender face. A symmetrical face. A face with brown messy hair and icy blue eyes. His features - a narrow nose, wide jaw, hooded eyes, and thin lips were considered desirable by the beauty standards of society. He was what many could deem handsome.

Kanai Yoshio. Code Name: Bat. He was twenty-six. He joined Root the same year as her. Under his name and code name there was something additional. A box was checked. Deceased. Bat, her rapist, was dead. He had not been dead when they rounded up the Root operatives. That much she did know. It had taken time but all thirteen of them had been apprehended without incident. She turned her head watching as the door knob did the same. The door pushed open.

There was a pause almost audible and distinct from the silence that had filled the room before. There was a shuffle of feet. The door closed on its frame, latching. Light flooded the room as a switch was flipped. She blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness, only to blink innocently at the frown she earned. The lock was engaged with an audible click and presumably, some sort of warding with the slight pulse of chakra she felt move across the dark tilted floor and walls. A tingle.

"You shouldn't be here," Inoichi crossed his arms, getting his disapproval and mild annoyance across with one fluid motion.

"No one told me."

"Well I'm telling you now," Inoichi said with a sigh, crossing the room in three measured strides. "You know, the man whose name is on the desk." He turned his name plate in her direction, dramatically.

Yamanaka Inoichi, Director Intelligence Division, the gold, metal characters read against the dark oak backing.

"They should really put your name on the door," she mused in a voice that was supposed to come across as helpful.

"They did," Inoichi was not impressed in the slightest. "And you'd know that if you bothered to use it."

"Good point," she smiled sweetly, tilting her head to the side. Strands of pink sprawled across her neck. "I'll keep that in mind for next time," she promised solemnly in what they both knew was a very convincing lie.

"Thinking of making it a habit of breaking and entering?" He asked with incredulity, eyes finding the open binder in front of her. "Already missing the inside of a cell that much?"

"You threatened to break in first," she reminded him with her chin resting on the back of her hand, fingers curled toward her palm. She did not threaten. She just did.

"What are you doing here, Sakura?" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "And save us both the bit where you pretend this was an accident. That bastard Kai was in ANBU and I could never catch him in the act when he went after my stash-", Inoichi bit down on his tongue much too late.

Pink brows rose in amusement, hidden away by a thick curtain of fringe. She grinned wickedly. "Does your okaasan know that her precious boy partakes in the Oni's lettuce?"

"There was a war, and only sometimes," Inoichi grumbled, not meeting her in the eyes. He cleared his throat roughly. "The point is," he glared at her giggle. "You are much too good of a ninja for this to be anything but deliberate. So get on with it," he gestured to the stack of papers on his desk not-so-subtly.

She shed all playfulness from her person. "Inoichi what's going on?"

He snorted with an air of indignation on where to even begin. "How much time you got?"

"Inoichi," her voice and face twisted into a pitch and expression that left much to be desired. "Four Root operatives are marked as 'deceased'." She turned the binder and slid it across the desk. He prevented it from crashing to the ground in a loud, hollow flutter and clatter.

Condor. Bat. Ox. Mink.

She only came into contact with the former two. "What happened?"

"They resisted," Inoichi offered without posing any of his own. "Or were deemed non-rehabilitatable."

"What does that mean?" The longer she searched his face for clues - it was on the second pass through - that she was beginning to understand what Minato meant. Inoichi's face - his mask - was that of a professional. He only let her see, read, and deduce what he wanted her to. "They resisted the interrogations? They knew things that put the village at risk?" Her eyes wide, mouth agape, and her brows unable to commit to one motion. "Do they know something, Inoichi? Does Danzo have something already set in motion?"

Inoichi's throat produced a noncommittal sound. "That's all I know, Sakura," honesty painted his words.

"Inoichi," she narrowed her eyes and voice in tandem. "Why were there no records of their autopsies at the morgue?" For the four deceased Root operatives. The ones that "resisted" or were deemed "non-rehabilitatable".

"I cannot speak to that," he looked at her without looking at her. He spoke through her, detached and unfamiliar.

"Then who can?" She demanded impatiently. "The Yondaime? The Yondaime's Advisor? The Elders?" She rattled one rhetorical question after the other, not giving him an opportunity to interject. "Who can answer? If not you? Where do I - we - go for answers? What about their families?" She pointed out the glaring flaw that she could see from across the village. "Won't people that care about them find it suspicious that these operatives are dead so quickly after their arrests? The Hokage can't just kill people without recourse or justification."

What in Kami's name is he doing?

"Sakura," his tone was strained by the severity of his frown. "I know you're not used to playing nice with others and I'm trying to be understanding of that, but it would go a long way if you didn't just assume we're all idiots."

"Inoichi," she said in exasperation. Neither of them had time for a patented Yamanaka Inoichi dad lecture. Just as they did not have time for her to pad their egos by listing all the ways she believed that they were not idiots. They were leaders of the largest village in all the Great Nations, that should have gone without saying.

"They have no families," he said tightly, almost testily. "You are the most social of all the Root operatives."

She blinked, momentarily stunned like a bird that hit a clean glass pane window at full speed. Unable to think. Unable to react. Unable to do anything but sit there, the sharp rays of realization sinking into her.

Bonds are shackles, they are a weakness to be exploited. Bonds are made to be cut if they are to be made at all.

How could she forget that?

"They were alone," she reminded herself out loud, momentarily forgetting Inoichi was there and that too watching her. Judging her. Evaluating her. Intentional or not. Building a profile in the back of his mind if one already did not exist, adding to it.

They had no one to miss them; no one to even notice that they were gone. They had no one to even say they were here at all.

Another drop that never made it to the ocean. The ocean that brought so much peace and calm to those who could afford to pause long enough to appreciate it. When she had broken into his office, she had not been prepared to face the prospect of her own mortality, not like this; not like this.

That's not us, Sakura. We have people. We're not like them.

Them. They were people too. Once. Before Danzo got his hands on them. Before Danzo turned them into tools to be used as he saw fit. Before Danzo exploited and manipulated their sense of profound loyalty to their home. Before they gave up their autonomy to him, to Root, to what they believed was the Will of Konoha.

The Will of Fire.

How did the Shodaime's vision and belief that everyone was his family get so twisted into what Konoha had become and that too in just two generations? How did his own student forget the fundamental lesson so badly, not just with her but initially with Naruto? With all the children that were in the orphanage just waiting for someone to see them as something other than a blood offering in the name of Konoha? How did a village who touted the Will of Fire, leave thirteen Root Operatives without family and without love in their lives?

She focused on the binder, the faces as she blinked away the ambiguity of her future.

"Two are missing from the records all together." She knew he was capable of doing math every bit as much as he was able to hold cognitive thought. She did not mean to offend but to learn and her tone reflected that as it was without a sharp edge that cut. The last row on the open pages between them was empty. Blank. Two columns and six rows made for twelve, with one missing eleven Root operatives, were accounted for. There were thirteen in total. "Why is Condor not here? Why is the Uchiha missing?"

The Yamanaka pressed his lips together into a bloodless line. Blue-green eyes bore into a pair of emerald orbs. Shiny. Reflective and without an inch of give.

"Think about it, Sakura," he sighed, his shoulders dipped slightly. "How do you think the Clan Heads would have reacted if they found out a Sharigan was being used to torture Konoha nin? By Danzo of all people? A man who is almost unanimously disliked by the Clan? By a man that was collecting records and building profiles on the Uchiha? By a man who was building housing for them along the edges of the village? By a man who had a Sharingan planted in his eye?"

A cover up?

A chill went through her. If the Uchiha Clan found out about this, coupled with the knowledge of Danzo's Sharingan the village just handed them a reason to attempt a coup. It would instigate both sides of the clan line. The image of Itachi and Shisui eating rice balls and smiling flashed in her mind, tightening her throat and making her palms sweat.

"I-Inocihi," she stammered, shaking her head over and over and over again. "This is bad. This is really bad. This-," was catastrophic.

"Fugaku-san knows," Inoichi pressed a palm flat on his desk, leaning forward so they were closer to eye-level. "He was there. He was debriefed on the report and allowed to speak to Condor, supervised."

He knows? About Danzo?

"He was there?" She asked, not believing her brain translated correctly what vibrations her ears thought they heard.

"He knows about Condor. Not the Sharingan and not the Uchiha profiles." He was not conflicted. Minato and Shikaku had not bothered to censor themselves around him. And as far as he was concerned, everything he knew she was entitled to. After all, she just prevented a very bloody uprising from taking place. "He agreed with the decision," he said firmly, trying to put aside her reservations and hesitancy with his tone. "Shika was there too. Condor's death will not be a problem with the clan."

She swallowed audibly. "They were interrogated," she breathed the question just as the realization hit her. "All of them, right?" She asked, scared of the answer.

"They were," he confirmed with a curt nod of his head.

Dread swirled in her. "Fugaku-san was debriefed on the report," she peeled her hangnail back mindlessly. "So that means there are reports. There are records of each of the interrogations." Morino had said it himself right before she was released. There were official reports.

"There are."

She did not notice the scrutiny of his eyes growing sharper, more intense. "Condor - the Uchiha - was from a clan, he used his clan bloodline…what made him an Uchiha, all to be a traitor not only to his Clan but his home," she frowned.

I should have burned the records before I was arrested. I should have removed his Sharingan and destroyed it. I should have wiped Bat's memories. I should have….

Done a million things differently even if she knew they were not always possible. Systemic microaggressions. She could not speak to whether or not Fugaku felt pressured into agreement just to keep the peace. That fear would simply not go away.

"What the Uchiha did was no different than what the Yamanaka did," she pointed in the approximate area of the face with sandy-blonde hair and teal eyes. Beaver. "And he was not erased from the record. He was not eliminated."

Inoichi scoffed. "He might as well be."

"What does that mean?" Sakura searched his face. "Exactly."

"It means," he grimaced, revealing his teeth pinched together in strain. "The Clan - the Yamanaka Clan - decided that his memories would be sealed. Forever."

His words thickened the air so much so that she nearly choked on them. "What?" She furrowed her brows.

"They searched his memories, Sakura," Inoichi said gently, in consideration for her state of mind. "He had a memory enhancing jutsu. He taught it to Danzo. It allowed him - both of them - to retain memories far beyond the capacity of the average brain. They were cataloged, indexed for easy retrieval. Like some kind of memory checkout library."

She did not know what to do with that information. "My memories," she murmured more to herself than anything as she worked through it all.

"Yours," Inoichi nodded his head. "And everyone else's. Nine living Root operatives that joined after he did. He had their memories too. There was a system. When an operative died or a candidate washed out, they flushed his head. Purging the memories from there. Probably because Danzo saw it as a liability to possess the memories of all the prospective candidates or maybe it was simply a matter of utilizing space most efficiently."

She was too overwhelmed to think clearly. "Minato knows?" She stared up at him, aghast. "Others?" Her voice cracked.

"Minato knows," Inoichi confirmed. "But not the Elders. Not the Clan Heads. Not even the Yamanaka that pulled them from Beaver's head."

"What? How is that possible?" She could not control the way her voice turned almost shrill. "How is it possible that even the Yamanaka who extracted them doesn't know?"

"Clan secret," he held remorse at not being able to share more with her. "Just know that the only person who knows what Beaver once knew is Minato. No one else. And he's working on controlling the flow of information. What gets out and what does not. It all comes from him."

"Were all the interrogations like mine?" She gazed up at him with traces of panic. "How far back did they go?"

How detailed did they get?

"I don't know," Inoichi admitted. "You would have to ask Minato."

She searched, scoured for any hints of a lie. Desperate for confirmation either way. Ambiguity was the thing that sucked the soul of her, little by little. She found no solace. She lowered her eyes, everything was simply too heavy for her to keep upright.

"Why are they all still in prison? The ones that are alive? Why was I freed?" She asked him because she knew he would either tell her the truth or tell her nothing.

"Because he's spinning."

Her silence implored him to continue, to elaborate, to do something other than stand there just as his words stopped her world from turning.

"We all are," Inoichi brought a hand to the top of his head, patting it as if trying to coax his mind to settle. "This is a mess, Sakura. We are trying to clean it up as quickly and thoroughly as we can. Loris was a mole; a mole in this organization. You were building a case, collecting evidence. Your face - your identity - is kept a secret because you are the reason Root is gone. At least that is the narrative being put forth. Danzo's death was just good timing, fortunate. Saves us having to eliminate him. That is the official stance."

"We have to make it airtight. We have to make it clean. So that no one questions what side you were on; what side Loris is on. Getting you out of jail was just the first step in showing just how much confidence the Yondaime has in her. The others are still in question. And truth be told, we need time to figure out what to do with them."

What to do with them. Minato had their memories - to some extent, an extent which she knew not of. He was making judgment calls. A call he did not have to make with her because he believed he knew her. He believed he could trust her. A belief that could be corroborated with the truth. A truth she desperately wanted to keep him from learning. Because she herself did not know how he would react. And that was a terrifying position to be in.

"He knows…," she pulled at the healing skin near her thumb nail. "There's records." Jade eyes stared at the empty stretch of wood in front of her. She blinked slowly. "Did he ask you anything?" She asked the desk.

"No," Inoichi spoke quickly to contain the emotions coming off of her. "He forbade anyone from searching Beaver's mind after the initial extraction. He destroyed the scroll. I watched him do it."

"How did he get away with that?"

"I'm a clan head. I am the clan head that Beaver's betrayal impacts the most. I was the one who got to decide his fate." It merely was a set precedent. No other Clan Head argued because that would open themselves up to questions and resistance if they even found themselves in a similar situation in the future. Clans dealt with their members. They had their own justice system. "He's spending the rest of his years in a cage." With his chakra sealed so he could not be in that position ever again.

"Inoichi," she swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. "I need to know what Minato knows," she exhaled the air in her lungs, only filling them back up halfway. "I need to know what he read."

I need to know if he knows. If…he saw….

"Sakura," he shook his head, frowning so deeply that he resembled the Inoichi from her future Sakura's memories. "He is handling it. The scrolls that have the memories are sealed, locked away. Only he can get to them. So even if you go to the trouble of stealing them, they are useless to you as they are to anyone other than Minato." Inoichi sighed. "You've done enough. You need to let him handle it. You need to let us handle it. Don't make it harder on yourself and everyone else involved. We have you." He held her in place with his gaze. "I have you. Trust me. Trust him."

I…I…I….

"I need a minute." She lowered her head to his desk. Her cheek pressed against the smooth wood. She closed her eyes.

He destroyed or is in the process of destroying evidence. This is bad. He's being reckless. He's opening himself up to be questioned and scrutinized.

The whole village government is in the middle of a cover up, Sakura. Do you understand how incompetent this makes them all look? If they point fingers at Minato, it would ultimately come back on them. Minato inherited this. The Elders, the Clan Council, this was all going on right under their noses. It will be fine. Give it time. Listen to Inoichi.

She could hear Inoichi shuffling in the room. But she did not pay him mind. The room was starting to spin and she was stubbornly trying to get it to stabilize.

"Did you tell him about Inner?" She asked him, groaning. Minato would not tell her. Anything. He was a brick wall. Inoichi was right, the scrolls were out of reach. And now it seemed the Yamanak - Yuzuki - was a deadend too.

Inoichi's eyes flitted to her for a second before he resumed rooting through his drawer. "No."

"Why not?" She lifted her head, face covered with her hands.

"Do you know how bat-shit crazy that would make the both of us sound?" He asked her with a sarcastic scoff. Inoichi tore open the packet of green tea. He placed it in an overturned ceramic cup. He reached for the kettle that was plugged in. He poured the hot water to complete the ritual. "Here," he set down the cup with a resounding thunk on the table just outside of her hand. "Drink."

She let out another groan in response. "Did you read my profile?" She knew she did not have to specify which profile.

"Yes," he could picture it tucked away safely in the Tower, locked away under layers of sealing. "Don't read into this, Sakura, you need to stay out of the way. Both of your faces," he sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed and frown firmly set in place. "It's being handled."

She straightened her spine, leaning back into the chair for support. It gave her structure, she brought the ceramic cup with her. It was warm in her hand. A little too warm to be comfortable but that did not stop her. She held it almost under her chin. Inhaling deeply through her nose, eyes fluttering closed. Just the aroma of the fresh, clean, almost floral tea made her feel marginally better.

"To be honest, I thought you'd be running off all over the country-side," he chatted just short of lightheartedly. "Picking up where your clone left off." He repeated the process to produce another cup of tea for himself this time. "Ridding the world of the next great evil."

"I'm tightening the belt," she grumbled, not even nibbling on the bait he set for her. On money, chakra, and time. Gone were the days that she could travel far and wide in search for someone who was going out of their way not to be found. She did not have the luxury any more even with Danzo dead. Her absences would be noticed by all the wrong pillars of Konoha. Loris would be scrutinized by the Elders, the Clan Council and anyone who had even a minute amount of awareness. And perhaps rightfully so. The warpaint on her forehead and bicep hid from the world what her illusions did. But even if she saw and tested with her own eyes and hands, she did not fully trust. Her skin remained wrapped under long sleeves that Sakura would continue to don.

Inoichi blew on the top of his tea before taking a sip. He let out a small sigh of satisfaction. The gesture reminded her that she had yet to taste her cup. It was bitter but a palatable kind.

"I know that look," he rubbed his face preemptively, bringing his ankle to rest atop his knee.

"Inoichi," she had the decency to look abashed about what she was about to ask of him. "What about the Shodaime's Cells?"

Inoichi blinked but recovered quickly. He gazed into the surface of the matcha with a tense jaw. "I don't know."

"But Shikaku-san would," Sakura countered. "Ask him."

Inoichi nostrils flared slightly as he displaced air. The light behind her eyes - the heat - promised she would not let this go. He could not face her will any more than he could square up against her on the training grounds. He was outmatched. The blonde pinched his face together.

"He says he doesn't know," he said nonchalantly, taking another sip of his tea.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "You didn't ask him," she shot back with a huff. "You just pretended to hold in a sneeze."

Inoichi sighed in resignation. She was right but that did not change the fact that he had been hoping she would fall for it. The Yamanaka held up his index finger and closed his eyes. He concentrated in earnest this time. Sakura did not move or breathe audibly as she waited. Watching him closely for any changes to his posture. She leaned forward, tea on the table, when his eyes finally opened.

"Destroyed," Inocihi's tone was flat. "Shikaku was there as was the Sandaime. Along with all records of the recovered boys' medical files."

Good. She let out a breath that left her more freely than it had arrived.

"So Tsunade-sama never reached out to his letter." A letter that was hand-delivered by the best tracking team Konoha had. They found her in Hi much to no one's surprise. People needed money or stolen goods worth something to gamble and Hi was the richest nation around. Saying the words that she long knew to be true out loud still managed to prick her somehow.

"No," Inoichi shook his head. "Not as far as Shikaku knows." And the generous window had passed.

She's still wallowing.

Or she completely washed her hands off the village. She gave it too much already. Both her grandparents, her grand uncle, her brother, and her lover. She doesn't want to give it her freedom and what's left of her life too.

"Do I even want to know what you're thinking about?" He asked anyway despite having more than an inkling of the answer.

"You can't tell Minato about our conversations," there was no hesitation as she uttered the restriction she imposed. "This one and definitely not the ones about our collaboration on the memory-wiping jutsu."

He's simply too observant and too obsessed to not notice.

Inner's silence was interpreted as resounding agreement.

The changes to his visage were subtle. A line - a divot - between his brows held all the responsibility for communicating his frame of mind. He was not pleased.

"Sakura," he said her name in almost a reprimand - in disappointment. She braced herself for rejection or a back-and-forth at the very least, and perhaps that was why she did not visibly react in surprise to his words that followed. "I won't tell him. Anything."

Despite his words, her stomach sank. "Why do I get the feeling you're not just leaving it at that?" She asked him slowly, eyes darting to the door.

Inoichi waited for the sound of footsteps to fade before speaking again. "I won't tell Minato if you agree to monthly dinners at the house."

"W-what?" She blinked in disbelief at what she clearly heard.

"The first Monday of every month," Inoichi explained annoyingly. "You will have dinner at my house with my wife and my mom." He paused to think. "And me of course."

"I-I'm okay, despite what you may have read in my profile," she ignored her stutter as she held his gaze. "I'm not going to do something crazy so you can rest assured. I'm not-"

Suicidal. She thought in her head because she could not bring herself to say it out loud and put the idea in his head even if she was more than half convinced that was where he already was.

"You're not," Inoichi did not draw attention to the fact that she never finished her claims - her thought. "Going to fight me on this because what you're asking me to do is lie to our Hokage. A man I quite like and respect. A man who I have come to consider as more than an acquaintance. You're asking me to do that. And all I'm asking you in return is for your time. That's it."

Be thankful I'm not asking for weekly dinners. He thought in her head.

She sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Fine," she acquiesced, feeling her back against the corner she was led to. Strategically.

"Good," Inoichi smiled at her. Bright and friendly, as if he had not just blackmailed her not even ten seconds ago. "We missed this month's first Monday. So we will start in May. Bring that oil you talked about last time. And flowers. She likes cosmos and peonies. Her favorite color is purple," he finished jovially.

Sakura chewed on air as if it were glass. "Let me guess, pick them up from your family's flower shop?"

His grin widened. "You're a sharp one, Sakura. No wonder Shikaku was more than a little intimidated by you back in our Academy days."

"Liar," she deadpanned. "And I will have you know, this is extortion. I am without an income."

"You will be fed," Inoichi countered flatly. "You will be compensated adequately for your time." He finished off the tea in his cup, pushing his lips to the side. Blue-green eyes hardly left her face. "And he was. He would never admit it out loud but Choza and I knew him well enough to know just how irked he was. You got under his skin. And it wasn't just because of your top test scores or perfect chakra control."

She furrowed her pink brows in her inquisition because she was tired of having to ask the same question over and over again.

"But I suppose all's well that ends well right? He gets to spend his days figuring out how to deal with tariffs on trade exports like rice and tea," Inoichi mused as she straightened. He rounded the corner and closed the binder near the edge of his desk - across from the slack-jawed Sakura. "All the rain caused flooding in the rice paddies of the Land of Rice is really going to be felt soon so start stocking up now before it really hurts your pocket." He shook his head after sighing. "As nice as this has been, I have a meeting I can't avoid in seven minutes. If there's nothing else, don't let anyone see you on your way out." He raised his eyes. His chair was empty.

"ANBU," he grunted under his breath like a curse. There was not even a fluctuation of chakra, not even by a hair. His lips tugged into a smirk when his eyes landed on her cup. It was empty. Bone dry. "You've learned some manners," he chuckled to himself, reaching for it. Inoichi pulled his fingers from the hot ceramic, shoving his index finger in his mouth. There was a blister already forming when he pulled back.

"What the actual hell, Sakura?" He glared at the ceiling of his office. She always had to be the one to get the last word in. "No good deed," he grumbled with a more than a little hurt ego. He brought his finger back to his mouth to ease away the sting.

---

She stood with her hands behind her back and her head bowed as the picture of remorse. Words of vitriol, abuse, anger, and authority rained down on her with at least thirty eyes around her. They were in the staff room and Uyeda Noboru was unloading all his grievances.

I wonder how many times he revised his list.

Because there had to be a list.

My guess is he rehearsed it no less than fifteen times in front of a mirror. He probably puffed up his chest each time too.

He is pretty red. And it is coming off as very rehearsed.

She tried not to think about the kink in her neck that would give her problems if she did not address her bent posture soon but it was not up to her in the slightest.

The bangs were a mistake.

Oh? Really? If only someone warned you and tried to talk some sense into you.

It seemed like a good idea…they hide our forehead. They hide the paint.

They also get in your eyes. You'll have to find a way to pin them back when you get your mask back.

If I get it back, you mean.

You'll get it back. It's just a matter of when. But hey maybe your bangs will be all grown out by the time that happens.

Maybe…when did you turn into such an optimist?

Maybe around the time you decided to stop pretending to be a realist.

"Do I make myself clear?" Noboru asked her testily. His dark eyes failed to burn her to the ground during her very public sentencing.

"Of course, Uyeda-sama. It won't happen again," she bowed her head even lower as she vowed, folding at the hip. Her short, short locks surrounded her in a curtain that kept her from catching their eyes to witness the self-satisfied looks on their faces. Well, nearly all their faces. Umika just wore one of two masks that she alternated with no clear preference: sympathy and guilt.

"Dismissed," Noboru huffed petulantly.

She only straightened when the room was emptied and the air was finally less hostile again. Sakura rolled her shoulders and steeled herself for the hours, days, and weeks that it would take for all this to finally be behind her.

---

She was trying to be patient. She still did not have her mask. She did not have her post as Loris. She did not have the details but she had her suspicions that the Elders were behind this. They were applying pressure - or the illusion of it - because it was all they were capable of. It was all politics. She knew that if she was to receive real punishment beyond the temporary loss of pay and post she would have by now. They were projecting the narrative that she set forth. Shimura Danzo died of natural causes: heart failure. Danzo would be remembered as a hero, a collective decision reached by all facets of the government.

As far as she knew, the general populace did not so much as blink when the rumor broke out that Root was being absorbed back into ANBU with Danzo's death and no clear candidate to take his place. Which was something that could take weeks if not months. A cover of smoke and mirrors. Because Minato, true to his word, was in the midst of disbanding Root. That was the truth. Whether or not the seven surviving Root operatives were sentenced to life in prison, killed, or rehabilitated remained to be seen. It was an oversimplification she was sure but that was her understanding of the process.

To stop herself from driving herself crazy she had justified it. She told herself that Bat was loyal to Danzo. He had to be in order to do what was asked of him. And it was that loyalty that made him unstable and a threat to the Yondaime. That was why he was killed. Because he must have resisted a change in regime, a change in who he would have to report to. Bat did not know who Loris was under the mask but Bat knew what he did to the woman behind it. He also must have known that the Yondaime trusted her, so it was not too big of a jump to say that the Yondaime would react not so well if he learned what Bat did. So in a preemptive move, Bat resisted. Maybe he tried to make a run for it and Minato had to cut him down.

Yeah. That is the most likely reason behind what happened. Because Minato was pragmatic. Minato was composed. Minato saw the bigger picture. He would not risk his Kage-ship for her; for something that happened more than six years ago. For something that she herself did not remember. Minato did not know. And with Bat dead, he would never know. No one would know.

And since she believed that with nearly every fiber of the being, she could not help but note how lax the interrogation process was for her. Waiting in the cell had been the worst of it. Yuzuki did not pull anything from her mind beyond what was asked by Morino. It was an interrogation, not an extraction. It was not even all that thorough. It did not go back years and years but just hours.

Maybe Beaver had been a special case given they had to know the extent of what he knew. Maybe they just used Beaver to understand the Root initiation process. Beaver brought it on himself. He violated everyone's minds first so there was no courtesy to spare his.

Maybe the philosophy was to build a philological profile instead of a timeline. At least that was what it felt like to her. There was no protocol set before. There should never have been a need for this as Root and even ANBU were supposed to be the most loyal. But maybe it was precisely that mentality that allowed such a thing to grow and fester. The oversight and the time that passed only left one path forward. The infected appendage of the village needed to be removed before the rest of the body was impacted.

Being back in the hospital full-time was a nice change of pace. It was welcomed. It gave her instant and immediate feedback and gratification. Even if the Head Medic was being petty and keeping her from surgeries and interesting cases. It was fine by her. If he wanted her changing bedpans and just running rounds, it meant she was saving and storing nearly all of her chakra.

Anko was still slated to be away for a couple of months more as the rebuild hit a snag. It was minor and not untypical for projects of this magnitude. She was not worried. From her letters, she knew that Anko was bored but that was hardly new.

She was determined to see things that were going well. It was a distraction tactic to keep from thinking about the scrolls in Minato's possession and the state of the village. She knew that but she wholeheartedly let it carry her away nonetheless. The first of the Rookie Nine babies was born. Shino was already four months old. He had come in for his checkup and she tried not to cackle at the most stoic baby she had ever seen. All-in-all things were moving along. Right on track.

Her eyes found a familiar head of warm brown hair. She smiled and raised her hand to wave. Rin caught her eye moments before ducking into the first room in the hall. She did not even check to see if the room number on the wall matched the one on the topmost folders in her arm.

Odd.

Sakura's smile fell off her face at the teen's reaction. It was not what she was expecting at all.

The mask, Sakura. Inner reminded her gently.

Oh.

It did not matter how the realization was delivered. It felt like a wall of bricks crashed down on her. She was wearing the face of Sakura, not the mask of Loris. So Rin acted accordingly. She could not fault the girl but the effect was felt all the way to her center.

Sakura made a right and opened the door to the stairwell. She went down a floor to where her office was. A different familiar back of the head was peering at the door timidly. Clad in a white dress and hot pink pants. Three vertical red ovals denoting the family crest lined the back of the dress. A dress she recognized instantly from future Sakura's memories. She looked so out of place. Uncomfortable.

"Mebuki-san?" Sakura called out to her from where she stood, giving the woman ample time to react to her. Mebuki jumped a foot in the air all the same. She turned around and pressed her hand to her chest.

"Sakura-chan, you scared me!" Mebuki breathed out loudly.

"Sorry," the pinkette smiled sheepishly. "Is everything alright?" She took in Mebuki's sweaty composition.

"I-I," her mother stammered. "I was hoping we could talk," she spoke down to her clenched hands.

"Sure," Sakura reached for the doorknob and pushed open the door, gesturing for Mebuki to walk in first. The blonde woman dipped her head before doing so. Sakura closed the door behind her. "Please have a seat." She pointed to the back of the chair that was closest to them. Mebuki walked hesitantly, holding her purse to her as her eyes mapped her surroundings. Sakura could see judgment at the storage-turned-office but the woman did not voice any of it. Sakura sat at the edge of the desk facing Mebuki.

"What can I do for you, Mebuki-san?" Sakura asked her pleasantly, already having an idea of where this was headed.

"I," Mebuki reached for the purple purse in her lap. She undid the large clasp and pulled out a plastic packet. She reached into the packet, drawing one tissue out. She dabbed at her eyes. "I-I," she started to cry into her hands.

Shit.

Seeing her parents cry was always a trigger for tears for her. It was almost innate, part of her DNA. Sakura looked up at the tubed lighting that ran along the ceiling.

"Let me get you something to drink." She shot up to her feet. "I'll be right back." She left before Mebuki could get in a coherent word.

xXx

Sakura stared down at the green tea bottle at the bottom of the vending machine just waiting for her to grab it. She was too busy staring past it and chewing her bottom lip. She was not proud of the cowardice she displayed back there but she was not mentally prepared to have this conversation - if it could be called that when in reality it was nothing but a form of manipulation - with the woman. She needed a minute to collect her thoughts. A minute became three. And three became five. She lost track of how long she stood there counting the clear beads of condensation that clung to the plastic bottle of green tea.

Sakura, she's just not going to leave. You have to go back.

I know.

You can't keep her waiting.

I know.

You never studied the long-term effects of your contraception seal. You never tested it. You couldn't test it.

I know.

You need to talk to her.

"I know," she said in a small voice. She bent down and picked up the bottle. Her warm fingers broke the tension of the bubbles wherever they touched. Her boots moved slowly as she walked down the hall. She plastered a large smile on her face, and squared her shoulders, before knocking. "Mebuki-san? It's Sakura." She waited.

"I'm decent," Mebuki's voice came through the door.

Sakura sighed inwardly before she turned the doorknob. "I'm sorry for the delay. The vending machine on this floor was broken so I had to go up a floor and the line was very long," she overcompensated for her tardiness by speaking and moving quickly now. She twisted the top of the cap but left it on. She set the green tea where Mebuki could easily reach it.

The blonde tried to smile but it was disheartening. She was no longer actively crying but her eyes were red and remnants of tears lingered on her cheeks like temporary tattoos of her grief.

"Thank you," she slowly grabbed it. "I love green tea."

I know, Kaachan.

It was the comfort drink for both of them. "I'm glad I guessed correctly," she chuckled lightly. She resumed her position. Her hands were folded together. "Whenever you're ready," she said in a patient, reassuring tone.

Mebuki's jade-colored eyes became wide. "Oh, my Kami!" She grew more distressed. "I didn't even think! I just walked in here and completely overtook everything and assumed you were fr-"

"Mebuki-san," Sakura squeezed her mother's shoulder. "It's fine. Now is a good time. It's a great time. So please, take your time."

"Oh," Mebuki nodded her head. "Okay," she settled back into her chair. She took three small, shaky sips of the tea. She held the bottle between her palms. "Kizashi and I have been married for over a year now."

Sakura nodded her head, encouragingly. Her stomach twisted as her suspicions just became confirmed.

"We've been trying for a child nearly the entire time. I've been to every shrine. I've eaten everything there is to eat. I've followed all the advice my friends with children gave. I've…I've." Mebuki started to sob again. She lowered her head. She leaned her forehead against her curled first.

Sakura rubbed her back. "It's okay."

Mebuki shook her head, grabbing Sakura's hand to clutch as an anchor to her sanity. "Is there something you can do to help us? Please," she begged. "We don't have a lot of money but you can have what we have. We'll sell the shop. We'll take loans. Please help us."

She was seconds away from hysteria. Sakura realized that. She crouched down in front of Mebuki. The woman turned in her chair to face her. Sakura's uncaptured hand was on Mebuki's knee. Constant and reassuring.

"Mebuki-san, that won't be necessary." The blonde woman stilled, her eyes went large in pure panic at Sakura's words. "I'll help you."

"Oh," Mebuki reached for Sakura's face. She cupped her cheeks. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she sobbed in pure relief.

Sakura could not school her face. She did not have it in her to be that good of an actress. "Trying for a year is not that long," she said in a smooth voice, her clinical voice showing no ill effects of the bile that rose in her throat at just how diabolic this all was.

"Really?" Mebuki blinked at her owlishly, still clinging to her hand for dear life.

"Really," Sakura nodded. "We'll have you and Kizashi-san come in for some blood work. I'll have some pamphlets for you to read too."

"Anything," Mebuki said quickly. "We'll do anything."

"But in the meantime please refrain from smoking and drinking, both of you. Eat as balanced a diet as you can. Exercise and stay active daily. That will help later too when pregnant. Get plenty of sleep and drink water. Cut back on sugar. And please," Sakura's eyes softened a margin, "take the pressure off yourself. For your sake and the sake of your marriage."

Mebuki nodded her head over and over. "Yes. Yes. Yes," she agreed with desperation. "Yes. We'll do it all."

Sakura touched her arm with her free hand. She could feel the seal dissolve away safely in Mebuki's bloodstream. It would come out in her urine and she would be none the wiser. "I have a good feeling," Sakura smiled before reaching into the breast pocket of her white coat. She pulled out a pen and a small notepad. "Please come see me next Wednesday at six." She tore the page from the pad and held it out.

Mebuki untangled their fingers and reached for it with both hands. She held it to her chest like it was her salvation. "We'll be there."

"Great," Sakura closed her eyes and smiled her fake smile. Hiding how she felt like the most garbage person still left on the face of the planet.

---

Sakura-san,

The boy is learning to read and write. He is quite bright. He will remember how to do the things he once did before. He is observant. There has been no progress on communication through speech beyond grunts and the like. But he is growing more curious about his surroundings. He is acclimating to change faster. There is less tension and strain when we change locations as part of our travels. He misses you. He enjoys listening to the letters you write. He always stops extra long to stare at pink flowers. Never red, yellow, orange, purple, blue, white, or any other color. Always for pink. I wonder why that is?

He is having less tantrums or dissociative episodes. The steps you shared seem to help control them. It is good that we naturally avoid crowds as he is not a fan. He was able to stand in a small stream that went up to his ankles for almost a minute before he looked to Konan to help him out.

I'm sure Sensei's letter gave you an update on the other situation. I am sorry we are not making as much leeway there. I am hopeful to visit Ame one day soon. I hear fewer people are dying now. Thank you for your efforts. We will continue ours.

Sincerely,

Nagato

---

The sweet, pungent smell traveled up her nose and settled in the form of a sharp prick right between her brows.

I should have drank more water.

She stood there blinking at the seemingly non-threatening door. It was a warm earthy color, inviting. There were planters on either side of it, painted in a bright, bold purple. The flowers it housed were yellow daffodils.

New beginnings.

And that too was after passing by a garden that belonged in an advertisement magazine. There was so much to look at it was overwhelming. The sounds of the fountain filled her with little droplets of ease. Spring was in full bloom and it seemed adamant to not let her forget.

Let's just get this over with.

Sakura suddenly realized that both her hands were full. One with the flowers and the other with a bag containing a dessert she picked up - because she remembered Haruno Mebuki hammering it into Haruno Sakura that one simply did not show up to one's house empty handed and that too especially not for the first time - and a small airtight container of homemade oil.

Can I use my foot to knock?

I think that's rude.

"But loitering right?" She asked herself out loud. The curious looks she had received on her way to the house in the smack dab middle of the Yamanaka Clan Estate - the very house she walked to countless of times as Haruno Sakura and that too usually hand in hand with Yamanaka Ino - urged her to not leave herself in the open too long. Yet she was finding it hard to find a solution to the trivial problem that she was experiencing.

The answer came in the form of feet shuffling and sliding on wooden floorboards. A voice got closer and closer - less impeded by the slab of the barrier in between. She watched as the doorknob jostled. Raising her eyes when it retreated further away.

A sandy-blond brow was raised in question. "Dontcha know how to knock?" He asked dryly.

Sakura held up her hands in rebuttal.

Inoichi's eyes filled with understanding but just as quickly another question replaced the epiphany. "Why didn't you just use cha-"

"Inoichi!" A voice called out from behind him, demanding without words for him to move aside. Itomi huffed, smacking him lightly in the arm with the back of her hand as she came into view. Clad in a flowy yellow sundress, brown hair resting at the side of her neck, in swept braid updo.

Between the light pastel colors that they donned, Sakura felt out of place in her black ankle-grazing dress. At least she had enough forethought to throw her red long-sleeved wrap top over it, because otherwise the look screamed "funeral" and "mourning" and that was not quite what she was going for. It was a small miracle that it had survived this long in a small plastic bin tucked in the corner of her closet without being eaten away by moths.

"Let her inside before you give her the third-degree! And you wonder why you always have to be the one to track her down." The brunette rolled her eyes at the sheepish look across her husband's face. Her blue eyes so clear and large, stared at Sakura with a warmth that left her aching. "Sakura!" She smiled just like her daughter used to. "Come in, come in!" She latched onto her wrist not giving her a chance to heed the words herself. "I love what you've done with your hair!"

"Thank you, Itomi-san," Sakura felt her cheeks heat up. She slipped out of her sandals and left them near the rack. "Just felt like I needed a change," she over-explained. "You look lovely as usual, Itomi-san."

"Thank you!" The woman beamed, her hand moving to tap her updo. "Short hair really suits you. So does red," the woman's smile softened as she looped her arm with Sakura's. Her bump was just now slightly visible from the side. Sakura helped her step onto the platform that led to the rest of the house.

"You did something with your hair?" Inoichi called out by the closed door, turning to see the woman staring at him with less than impressed expressions.

"Ignore him. He's a man," Itomi tutted as if it was not Inoichi's fault he was unobservant with these things. Her eyes lit up. "Are those for me?" She gestured to the flowers.

"Yes, and this too," Sakura cursed her lack of awareness. She held both things out for the woman to take, which she did.

Itomi brought the bouquet to her nose and inhaled deeply, closing her brown lashes over her baby-blue eyes. "They are beautiful. "Cosmos, baby's breath, eucalyptus, and peonies, all my favorites," she smiled so radiantly that Sakura's heart skipped a beat.

Ino.

"Cake! Oh and the soothing oil," Itomi rooted through the bag using the arm that was interlinked with hers to hold the bag open. "I can't wait to try it out! Thank you, Sakura. You are a lifesaver."

"Sakura!" A voice called out before Sakura could open her mouth to politely deny the statement.

The pinkette turned. The smile on her face was automatic as she regarded the woman who just emerged from the kitchen.

Sobo.

Sakura did not fight the hug that Yamanka Chika pulled her into. She closed her eyes to hide the moisture that started to collect there.

"You're so skinny!" The woman - with dulling blonde hair gathered in a long braid that grazed her hips - admonished as she squeezed her tight, patting her on the back. "You sound like a drum!"

"Don't worry, Okaasan," Inoichi said with a smile in his voice. "We're on our way to fixing that." His arm came to rest across Itomi's shoulders.

"It smells delicious in here," Sakura cleared the tickle in her throat, timing the sound with Chika's loud pats to her back.

"I made all your favorites," Chika pulled back with her hands still around Sakura's shoulders. "So don't be shy."

She nodded her head. Chika led her to the kitchen by the hand, talking about this or the other. Inoichi and Itomi followed behind.

xXx

"You don't have to walk me back," Sakura said for the third time but that did not discourage him in the slightest.

"You didn't have to eat thirds and fourths but here we are," he grinned shamelessly, adjusting his grip around the bag in his hand. "It was like watching a competitive eater. Where does it all go, Sakura?"

Why can't you be like other girls, Sakura? Why do you have to stuff your face like a pig?

She stopped walking. Inoichi did not notice at first, smiling widely, hands behind his head the canvas bag he carried dangled from his hand.

Sakura-chan, you're such a pig!

"Sakura?" He called out her name with curiosity across his features, regarding her over his shoulder.

"What was I supposed to do?" She demanded, hands on her hips and her face turning red. "Chika-san wouldn't stop serving me!" She defended herself defensively. "I thought I was being polite!"

"She was expecting you to say no, offer resistance," Inoichi could not find justification for her sudden change in mood. "Like any normal sane person would." He eyed the canvas bag he was holding. "Let's get going before your leftovers go bad."

"Well, that's where you messed up," she pointed out snootily. Obnoxious. "Keep them! I wouldn't want to burden you any more than I already have. Especially with the cost of rice these days!" She was seconds away from storming off. "I knew this was a mistake."

"It was my mistake for thinking you were normal," he said dryly, heaving his eyes upward as he sighed. "And no one called you a burden so stop overreacting," he added tightly, too annoyed to notice the way her eyes became downcast. "Stop looking for excuses to run away."

I saw my mom. Recently. She told him in her head, with silent agreement. And that was hard. It brought up some stuff.

"I'm sorry I got carried away," she brought a hand to the back of her neck, smoothing down her hair in a manner that could be called nervous. She had forgotten the purpose of this evening. It was to convince him that she was fine. It was to show him that he did not need to worry about her, especially with everything else going on and a baby on the way. "I didn't-"

"Sakura," he cut her off with her own name, taking as many steps forward that she had not. "It was a joke," he said softly, eyes trained to the ground. It was a joke that he made a hundred times with Choza so it slipped out without him thinking it through. He got too comfortable. "It was in bad taste. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, jerk." She brought her fist to his shoulder, brushing it gently in a gesture that did not quiet land. She grimaced, lowering her arm as she inwardly cringed at her awkwardness.

Inoichi scratched the back of his head. "You'll take it,right?" He gestured to the bag. "And you'll come back next month, right?"

She was not used to seeing him so hesitant. It took her right back to being in the back of the flower shop while she taught him how to control his chakra better. Or when he entered her room for the first time. It took her back to her teenage years. It took her back to her lashing out at him and banishing him from her life. Leaving her to wonder how differently things would have been if she just talked to him. If she just told him what Naruto told her. Because if there ever was a time she could have used a friend, it was then.

Sakura snatched the bag from his limp grip. "No shit," she glowered at him. "Chika-san went to all this trouble for me. Why would I punish her just because her son put his foot in his mouth? Where's the logic in that?" She huffed, hugging the bag to her. "And I actually like spending time with Chika-san and Itomi-san. You're not going to ruin that for me."

Inoichi's chuckle was forced but they both pretended to be oblivious to that fact. He picked up his feet to fall in step with her. "Good, good."

"I had a nice time," she admitted, tilting her face toward the stars. Even though it was more than a little overwhelming at times.

"We did too," Inoichi brought his hands behind his back, his gait leisurely to accommodate Sakura's shorter strides. "I really didn't mean anything by it. Okaasan is over the moon to have an excuse to cook even more."

"Let it go, Inoichi," she said with a small sigh. "I already have."

Inoichi nodded his head, the way his shoulders relaxed was noticeable. "There's something in there for you to open," his eyes flickered to the building that was just to the right. "Any early present of sorts."

Beyond her lips pressing up together with slightly more force, she did not react.

It's not official. But he said you could still find ways to make it useful. Inoichi explained within the walls of her mind. The "stay out of trouble" was strongly implied.

"Thank you," she turned to dip her head in both gratitude and farewell. "Good night."

"Good night. Sleep well." Inoichi said to her back as she climbed the steps, one at a time.

Sakura pulled the door closed, engaged the lock and the seals before she pulled out a scroll. She set the bentos to her counter. She was away from the windows when she pulsed her chakra into it. There was a soft popping sound, odorless smoke, white and thin. In her hands, Sakura held the white porcelain mask with rounded ears and red circular markings around the eye holes.

Make it useful, huh?

---

"Loris!"

She felt arms wrap around her middle and faces pressing into the sides of her arms all before she could even lift a hand to knock on the door; their exuberance momentarily made her forget the dull aches from her training session earlier and the grumpy, irate patients she dealt with for ten plus hours.

"We missed you!" Obito beamed up at her. It made her heart dance in her chest.

"So much!" Rin added with a large grin.

The emotion in her throat did not let her speak.

"You've been gone a while." Kakashi's nonchalant voice reached her ears before his aloofness did. He leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed and his teeth pressed firmly together.

If she had use of her arms - they were currently pinned by a very excited Rin and Obito - she would have wrapped them around their shoulders. So she relied on the smile on her face to do most of the work.

"I've been pulled into all kinds of things," she explained. The almost four-month gap was necessary. Painful but necessary. She signed, shedding herself of the memories of the solitude. "But that's no excuse. I'll do better," she promised.

"That's okay," Rin assured her. "You're here now, that's all that matters." She gave Loris one last squeeze before she let go, taking one of the plastic bags from her hand.

"We forgive you," Obito grinned. "Especially if you give us any details on what's happening with Root," he winked at her with a level of openness that was not warranted by the situation he spoke of. He mimicked Rin's actions and took the remaining bag from Loris's fingers, following Rin further into the house toward the kitchen.

Loris pretended not to notice the way Rin was whispering something to Obito rather quickly, sternly, and closely, nor how the teen seemed to deflate. He kept glancing at her with a building sort of guilt behind his dark eyes. The other pair of dark eyes boring holes into her mask seemed to disagree with the popular sentiment.

She crashed their bi-monthly movie night without asking or warning, expecting to be welcomed with open arms like nothing happened. Rin and Obito were naturally more forgiving than Kakashi because they had other sources of consistency in their lives. But Kakashi…Kakashi was less fortunate. Considerably so.

"Anko-chan should be back in time for the next one!" Rin exclaimed with palpable excitement, trying her hardest to keep the mood light. She was doing a respectable job offsetting Kakashi's harmful rays. "It hasn't been the same without you two."

"Yeah!" Obito agreed emphatically. "It's been way too quiet. Boring."

"I never thought I would see the day that you admitted to missing Anko-chan," she teased Obito.

"She grew on me," he shrugged unapologetically. "Like a mold," he added out of habit more than anything. Loris chuckled out of politeness more than anything.

"Come in, Loris!" Rin looked up from transferring the food into plates to her still in the doorway.

"We're watching a comedy buddy-duo action movie tonight!" Obito chirped happily as he piled on and on and on onto his plate. "The dog doesn't die! We made sure to check…after the last time." There was a story there, in the way Obito's guilty eyes shifted over to Kakashi.

"Sounds good." She walked through the door, stepping onto the platform after taking off her boots and putting them next to the three-tiered rack. Kakashi's eyes continued to burn her with their bonafide accusation of abandonment.

xXx

Loris grabbed the plate he held out for her to dry. She turned it carefully in her hands. The soft breathing of Rin and moderate snores of Obito called out from the couch. Obito's head was on the armrest while Rin's rested on the outside of his shoulder. A soft blanket in gray draped over them. Obito's drool was seeping into the fibers of the armrest, something that Kakashi would grumble about and hold over his head for some time to come. The soft murmur of the TV filled in the background, drowned by the sound of the running faucet.

"You didn't tell me you were leaving," Kakashi broke the still that was far from easy. "Or Oda-san. Because of you, I had to ask her if you said anything; if you left anything. Which turned into me having to listen to her go on and on about her missing cat. I went looking for it just so that my ears would have a moment's peace. It wasn't missing. It was just hiding from her in her house. Hiding from her overbearing, smothering," he informed her of his plight, casually. But the tightness he carried in his shoulders spoke for him. He had hardly addressed her at dinner; perfectly content to operate as if she were not there at all. Only the occasional glare or look of suspicion broke the pattern sporadically. So the excess of words was slightly jarring.

"I'm sorry," Loris said in a voice made soft by her guilt.

"You didn't even tell me when you came back."

"I'm sorry," she apologized again because all she had now for him was words. She had seen the strain behind Obito's and Rin's eyes. Strain from the responsibility of keeping Kakashi afloat.

Better they get their practice in now before the real thing, huh Sakura?

"Sensei wouldn't tell me anything." Accusation and anger coated him. Like a film of poison. "I thought you were dead."

The tap turned off. Even the TV had gone quite. The silence was suffocating. Loris's fist curled around the slightly damp towel. She lowered the plate over the three other that were neatly stacked on the counter. She set the towel down and made her way across the kitchen. Kakashi did not move from the sink. His stare was fixed out the window, jaw growing more and more tense as the seconds accumulated in the silence. She opened the freezer and reached inside. She used her elbow to close it. She held two plastic containers to her chest.

Kakashi glared at her reflection in the window. "When did those get there?"

"That's another thing I can't tell you," she answered solemnly. "Roof?"

Kakashi sighed but his head moved in the smallest of gestures. She flashed, stomach turning. She looked around at the stars overhead. She settled on the flat roof of his home. He was not even half a second behind her. He too sat but with his legs dangling over the edge. She offered him the vanilla cone. He pulled it from the plastic container.

She waited for him to start eating before she took a lick. "I'm very hard to kill," she said after some moments of silence. "The mission I went on was classified. Very sensitive in nature. That's why I couldn't write to you at the time. I was in Ame. Then Kiri. The mission got extended. It was not expected."

"Can you tell me what you did there?" His dark eyes bore into the dark eye holes of her mask. "Or is that classified too?"

"Was, Kakashi-kun. It was classified. The mission was philanthropic in nature. Ame and Kiri needed help. Hokage-sama sent me to help them. So I did." Half truths were half lies and even that ratio did not sit right in her stomach. Lying to the kids never got any easier. "Do you have questions for me, about what happened to Root?" She asked him without turning to look at him.

"You were arrested."

"I was," she nodded her head, eyes on a star to keep herself steady. "For about a week."

"You didn't come to find me after that. You didn't come back," hs worked hard to not let his voice catch. The sweet cream lost all flavor. He watched as it started to drip down the cone. He angled it so it would not track all the way down to his hand.

"I was worried about how it would look," she tried to be as honest as she could. "I was waiting for things to settle."

"Were you worried I would think you were disloyal?" He carried himself with more control of his mannerisms and voice at fourteen than she did even now. She felt both pride and an unbelievable sadness at that fact.

She clicked her tongue as her lips parted. "Were you worried?" She asked him, turning her head. Her jade eyes were solemn as she waited.

"No," Kakashi did not hesitate. His dark eyes locked with hers. "Never."

She smiled. "I wasn't worried either." She hummed in contentment returning to her attention back on her partially melted strawberry matcha soft serve.

"Sensei is having a baby."

"I heard." Her smile did not quite reach her eyes but it went far enough to carry in her voice - the thing he has purview of. "Are you excited?"

"I'm thinking of joining ANBU for real this time. So that I can be part of the guard that protects the baby."

Her eyes closed as she held a sigh behind her sealed lips. "Things are a bit chaotic right now."

"I can wait," Kakashi answered unfazed. "The next ANBU exams are bound to happen within the next six months to a year. I'll be ready for them."

"You've given this a lot of thought, huh?" She wondered out loud.

"Sensei needs shinobi - people - he can trust. Especially now that his attention will be further divided with his new responsibility." The wisdom beyond his years reflected in his thoughtfulness, his thought process. He was looking into ways to take things - worries - off of his Sensei's plate. It was as admirable as it was heartwarming. Logically she understood that. But her stomach twisted into a knot, it burned in the same way acid reflux did.

"Have you talked to your team about that? This plan of yours?" No doubt preparation was already underway.

"Not yet," Kakashi admitted after a beat of silence. "We could work together. You could teach me everything you know," he offered up nonchalantly. "That way the exams would be just a formality at that point."

"What happened to the skill gap between Jonin and ANBU being negligible?" Loris asked him with raised haughty brow she did not feel.

"Loris," he rolled his eyes in disbelief that he had to explain this to her at such a granular level. "Between most Jonin and most ANBU that statement holds true."

"Let me guess, you're not most Jonin?"

"Well no," he huffed in annoyance, turning his head away from her in the last moments before she could witness his face flushing. "And you're not most ANBU."

She was left without a retort to that. It was fine. Because Kakashi had already moved onto the next question.

---

She could just make out the colors in the sky. They reminded her of stingrays the way the kites moved with their lazy gliding through the wind. Her eyes focused on one kite that was higher than the rest, a small speck. No doubt that it left behind a hysterical child who had not been paying enough attention to his or her spool. Konoha's annual kite festival brought a whole host of memories for her. Her father was an enthusiast or at least he had been. He took her every year from the ages of four to eleven.

Another broken tradition was when she graduated from The Academy. She did not remember him saying anything outright - it was her mother who was the direct one - but now looking back, she could not help but think just how heartbroken he must have been when she said no that first year. She wished she could go back and say yes. Or at least remember to say yes the next go around. Sakura pulled her knees to her chest. Her chin rested against the curve between her kneecaps. The bright oranges of the sunset filled her with a sense of longing.

"Sakura-sensei!"

She sat up before looking around. But she was alone on the rooftop. Just as she had started out. Just her and her thoughts.

Did I imagine that?

"Down here!" The voice called out to her in an answer to the question she had not voiced.

She peered over the edge of the pitched roof. Her eyes landed on a familiar face grinning up at her.

Obito?

She frowned for show. "Aren't you one of Hokage-sama's brats?" She asked him irately, masking her curiosity.

Why is he so happy to see me?

He always looks like that.

"See?" Obito was brimming with confidence from a sense of validation. "I told you she was mean. You're totally into that right?"

"I can hear you!" Sakura grumbled loudly with a scowl. Her eyes darted for a second to the taller man standing next to Obito. He wore a look of indecision. She dismissed him instantly.

"I know!" Obito said through his cupped hands. It was unnecessary because he was naturally loud. "This is my cousin! The one I was telling you about!" He told her and effectively everyone, even two towns over.

What is he on about?

She tried to rack her brain. She did not remember him mentioning a cousin to her at all in her interactions with Team Seven.

"You know, when you set Kakashi-baka's arm and I almost threw up on your floor! And you threatened me! Remember now?" He chirped with zero lack of awareness of any kind.

"Obito, I told you to stop doing that," the man sighed. He lowered his head into his hand in embarrassment.

"What? You're hopeless," Obito frowned. "We're starting to worry," his voice genuinely sounded like it even if she had no idea who this "we" was. Not that she had any interest in finding out.

Sakura looked between the Uchiha. She was used to Obito's goofy weirdness so she utilized the time to study the man next to him - his cousin.

He seems familiar.

Please tell me you didn't sleep with an Uchiha.

She did look at him with greater scrutiny with a dropping stomach because an answer did not come to mind immediately. She usually went out of her way not to look at those she chose to partake in certain activities with but she did look even if it was to make sure she never repeated a man. Because that was just as important as the no-married men and no coworkers rule.

"Pardon my idiot cousin," the man smiled at her in a very non-Uchiha manner and yes, her sample size was rather small. "I'm Shinnosuke." He held up his hand. "Uchiha, Shinnosuke," he added awkwardly at her continued silence.

Oh! Shinnosuke. That's why he's familiar. He's in Minato's guard. He's Goat. She made the connection now with the ANBU with the blue mask.

"Sensei!" Obito huffed, hands on his hips. "You're being so rude right now!" He covered his lips with his hand, blocking his cousin from reading them. "He can see you," he hissed loudly. Or in what others would call normal speaking volume.

She wanted to cross her arms but the gesture would come across as very defensive. She did not care for how casual Obito was being with her. She only interacted with the boy once as Sakura. But that hardly seemed like a barrier for him.

"What do you want, Kid?" She completely ignored the handsome Uchiha in favor of asking the teen-boy. She more or less knew how he operated.

"Rin-chan was right," Obito's hands once again found his hips. Oh, Kakashi would crucify him if he were here to witness this. "You're so mean."

"Glad we established that," she jumped down from the roof. She dusted her hands. "Good day to you both," she turned on her heel and promptly stalked off in an arbitrary direction. She pointedly ignored Obito's frustrated question of "what's her problem" that he asked her back. For one, because there was not enough time in the world and two, she was suddenly very hungry for a rice ball and some beer. Lots of beer.

---

A large white object was held just centimeters from the tip of her mask's nose. She furrowed her brow in an effort to make sense of it.

"Here!" Kakashi bit out with no shortage of annoyance, slightly out of breath and the beginnings of sunburn on his neck. "A damn dandelion from the top of the damn Monument brought to you through no use of chakra without a single seed missing. Two-hundred-thirty-one seeds. Count them. I'll wait."

Loris plucked the plant from between his fingers and inspected it. From a glance she could see that he spoke the truth. And from the placement of the sun he had timed it just right. Three hours and nineteen minutes. That was well within the window such as task would require. He was very thorough and mindful of all the little details. Including the dirt lining his clothes and the frumpled state of his hair. It was all very convincing that he accomplished the task just as she had asked him to.

"Do it again," Loris flicked her wrist, causing the seeds to scatter in the warm air.

"What the hell?" Kakashi asked her, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You said you would teach me," he defaulted straight to hurling accusations.

"And I am," she sighed as she pushed off the rock she was leaning against. She did not need to remind him of her thoughts on her time being wasted. "But if you're not going to take this seriously then neither am I."

"I am!" Kakashi insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his dark eyes in indignation. The waning sun on his back made his hair appear the color of fire. "I did the damn thing didn't I?"

Loris held the thin, brown stem between them. She set her chakra - a thin blue line - up the length of it. Kakashi's eyes widened. The majority of the chakra retracted, leaving just small clusters where it gathered. Around something. Over something. Containing something. His dishonesty.

"Chakra," she looked at him through the mask, as she began to explain levelly. "Leaves traces. No matter how careful you think you're being. Someone better and with more control of it can always find a way to detect it. Now, there are ways to mediate this. Time for instance, being the most reliable. The longer you wait, the fewer the traces there will be and thus, harder to pinpoint." She paused to let the words sink in before she dumped even more on him.

"You, Kaka-kun, miscalculated. You used up the majority of the time elsewhere. Perhaps to go through your katas, take a nap, count the seeds on a dandelion, or maybe even read a certain form of literature you can't seem to stay away from. It doesn't matter. The end result is the same," she registered the tips of his ears turning red right before her eyes. "You didn't wait long enough between picking the plant and teleporting yourself just out of sensing range before you got to me. Do it again, correctly this time."

"Loris," Kakashi's eyes crinkled in the way she knew he knew he was caught. It was the same crinkle he gave her Genin Squad everytime they called him out on being late and they long stopped buying his excuses. He was going to try to charm his way out of this. "Can you explain to me the purpose of this at least? So that I can give this task the level of attention it requires."

"If you want to be ANBU," she paused this time because she did not like the way the words had felt on her tongue. She liked them even less entering her ears. "You need to get comfortable with not knowing all the details. They will not be given to you."

Silver brows bunched together. "But you always taught us to think, to not blindly trust; to look underneath the underneath."

"Yes," she nodded her head. "And?"

Kakashi's eyes glittered with understanding. Nothing she said now contradicted her lessons then. If all the information was not given, it could still be found. It could be uncovered like the traces of his chakra around the stem of the dandelion. Maybe not all but enough to get the idea. An idea of what she was really trying to teach him.

"Ramen; your treat when I get back. In under two and half hours." He squared his shoulders and set off in the direction he had come from with a renewed sense of purpose not even waiting for her confirmation of the new change in conditions.

She stared up at the streaks of orange, yellow, and purple in the sky. Complicated equations danced among the clouds as she too tried to find information. Anything that could possibly help.

---

She giggled. A large loose smile on her face. Her hands grasping for the bright twinkling lights overhead. "In my next, next life, I think I want to be a star." She mused with a content sigh. "A big ball of gas. Huge. Giant even. Just hot, hot gas. Nothing significant. With no real purpose. Just floating around without direction or worry. Just completely in sync with the universe. Not questioning my place. Just thoughtless. Just doing my own thing. Unbothered. Only for normal people like you to look up at me and marvel at how twinkly and pretty I am. And when I break, when I'm dying, everyone gets so excited. They hold their breath and make a wish as I hurl across space in my demise after millions of years or if I'm lucky after a trillion. Do you think that people who were really, really, really good end up being reborn as stars?" She turned her head to blink at him, taking in his aghast expression.

"Kami, Sakura, did you sneak in more when I wasn't looking?" Inoichi asked her with his mouth unable to close. He was beginning to have second thoughts in letting her convince him to give her some before dinner.

She giggled again, rolling. She was indifferent to the way the grass tickled her stomach. She held up her chin between her palms, and kicked her legs idly. "You have the best weed, Inoichi," her smile was lopsided. "And it tasted like candy!" She gushed. "Not smelly at all!" She sniffed her shirt shamelessly. Because she refused to smoke it. She needed her lungs for a little while longer. Just as Inoichi needed to avoid second-hand smoke for his wife and daughter.

"I'll take that," Inoichi plucked the half-empty plastic bag containing gummies away from her and tucked it into his pocket. She had resisted but her movements were impaired significantly by the narcotics.

She pouted at him with wide, dilated pupils. "So mean. You said you would share!" She whined loudly.

"Sakura," he said her name soothingly, shushing her. "Be good and I'll give you some more next month. Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded her head, obedient. She curled her fingers around the crabgrass.

Inoichi took in her red cheeks and glassy eyes. "We need to find you a better hobby. A better coping mechanism than drugs and alcohol."

"Hm, but they taste and feel so good," she rolled onto her back and spread her arms over her head. Stretching out her fingers to elongate her person.

"I'm going to ask you this because you're too high to lie to me," Inoichi prefaced his question with the statement.

"Okay."

"Will I be - was I - a good dad?" He asked her in a small voice.

"The best," she grinned from ear to ear with zero hesitation, sweeping his own away with her words. "Ino loved you to pieces. All she ever wanted was to make you proud of her. And you were. You were so proud."

It felt like she had removed a weight off his chest. A weight that had settled there when he felt the baby move for the first time. His lips pulled into a smile without consulting him but he was too happy to mind all that much.

"You and Itomi-san were amazing parents. And really good to future me, too. Like the two of you are so good to me now." She patted her stomach happily. "So full!"

Inoichi's eyes crinkled. "You're good to us too, Sakura. To Ino too." They liked the name. Both Itomi and him for the baby who was confirmed to be a girl by none other than Sakura herself just a few days back.

"We both left her," Sakura sniffled, chewing on her bottom lip. "In the war."

The smile slipped off his face. "The Fourth Great Shinobi War?"

She nodded her head. "The war that almost ended the world." She sighed. "Have you thought about it some more?"

There was a popping sound from where he turned his neck. He rested his arms over his bent knees. He did not want to know about this war. This war, that left his daughter father-less. A daughter he had yet to meet but already loved an absurd amount.

"A mental health clinic for children," his expression became contemplative. He did not venture too far in his thoughts. From the corner of his eye he was watching - always watching - to make sure she did not roll off the hill and break something which was a very real possibility because it seemed like Inner was in no rush to filter the stuff out of Sakura's system.

"It's cold, do you have sake?" She asked him innocently. Hands folded across her stomach.

"No," he shook his head definitively. "We came out here to get you sobered up, remember?" Because he could not with a good conscience leave her to be alone like this. Not when it was supposedly her first time.

She blew a raspberry. "Being sober is no fun," she groaned deep and practically guttural. "Ramen!" Her face lit up. "Let's go get ramen!"

He grabbed her by the wrist before she could stumble to her feet. "Your stomach is packed. You'll throw up if you try to squeeze anything in there," he explained to her like she was five.

"No fun," she shrugged away from his hold. Flopping onto her back. Annoyed. "Not having a paying job sucks." She held out two fingers, imitating scissors as she brought them together and pulled them apart. "I have two of them! Ridiculous!"

"It's being worked on, Sakura," he reminded her even though in the back of his mind he wondered just how much of her was currently present. "You just have to be-"

"Patient," she interrupted him. "I know, I know," she muttered impatiently. "So have you?" She sneezed into her elbow. "Bless me," she giggled uncontrollably.

"Next time you want to get high, do it with Shikaku," Inoichi grumbled, shrugging out of his dark jacket and laying it across her. Sakura let out a surprised sound. Sakura shrugged her shoulders and lowered her chin to bring the jacket closer to her neck because using her arms to do the same seemed like much too much work.

"Stop stalling! Tell me," she demanded.

"I have." With the same level of reluctance once relinquished a perfectly functional tooth, Inoichi pushed the words out of his mouth. "You want my clan to lead the initiative."

"No," she frowned at him and his very selective hearing. "I want your clan to work closely with the hospital and collaborate with this initiative. A safe space for children to talk about their trauma. Their fears. Their anxieties without having to worry about ridicule or their whole careers being derailed before they begin. We need to destigmatize this." She blinked slowly, right eye before the left which let him know that yes she was still very much not completely in her right state of mind. "Maybe we can get some therapy animals. Pigs are really intelligent," she wrinkled her nose, fighting back another sneeze. "Do you know any pig farmers?"

"I'll go check the clan contacts from the accounting books."

"Good," she did not pick up on his clear sarcasm. "No drugs. For the kids. Unless it can't be avoided. As a last resort. The goal should be to help them, to give them tools. We ask too much from them. I realize that they can't be like civilian kids but the gap between shinobi kids and civilian kids should not have to be so wide."

"Hm." His grip around his wrist tightened. "Do you have someone to talk to?"

I don't want to talk about it.

"Kids," she blinked her eyes in rapid succession, operating as if Inoichi had not spoken his rhetorical question at all. "Kids aren't always direct when they communicate. They don't know how to say what they need, what they are feeling. And it can be even harder if no one is around to listen. When no one is around to validate what they do manage to say." The faint aroma of flowers and honey filled her nose. It was pleasant. Warm. "Your clan disproportionately helped out in the T&I and Intelligence departments. You all have a knack, an innate skill that helps you find the truth from the lies. I think that can be leveraged." An arm escaped the warmness of her cocoon to tuck her hair behind her ears.

"Obviously I'm not saying interrogate the kids to get to the bottom of what is bothering them," she shook her head in distaste. Tracing a formation of stars she did not know the name of or if they even went together but she did not care. Her ignorance gave her power to bunch them together however she pleased no matter what others said. "But it could help, you know?" She murmured softly. "It could do some real good."

"It could." He tilted his head back to regard the hot, hot, hot balls of gas that were millions if not trillions of years old, moving around without care, structure, or direction. "What about funding?" He was a clan head. He knew just how difficult it was getting projects off the ground.

"You don't worry about that," she smiled. Her eyes twinkled mischievously in the power of a secret he was not aware of. "Just tell me you'll think about it. Tell me you'll look into it." She crossed her ankles and began to hum. "Shikaku still hitting the bottle hard?"

Inoichi snorted at her rather flippant question. Shikaku's transition as the Hokage's full time advisor was far from smooth and in large part due to Loris's so-called-discoveries. "People in glass houses should not throw stones."

Her grin widened. "We should go. I should stop taking advantage of Itomi-san's generosity."

"You sober enough?" He spared her a side-long glance from the corner of his eyes.

"Hm," she nodded her head. "The warm and fuzzies are gone. So I am good to walk myself home." She clambered to her feet as she said the words. She held out his folded jacket. "The drugs were really good and the company wasn't half bad."

"Thanks," he deadpanned. Inoichi rose to his feet. His fingers curled around the dark fabric. "I'll think about it."

Sakura smiled. Bright and relieved.

---

"Your tadpole is good," Toshi croaked, shaking his rear leg, slapping it against her head in a similar manner Kuromaru scratched at his ears. "He has taken to Nagato, follows him everywhere." He let out a breath of air, his vocal cords vibrating.

"Is the difference in elevation still bothering you?" Sakura asked with a frown, leaning forward to blink at the toad perched on her bed. Her hand was already moving to the top of his head.

"It's fine, Saku-ra-ahh," he finished her name with a content sigh that had followed a popping sound. "How'd you do that?"His lavender eyes blinked slowly, focused on her face.

"Chakra," she grinned, wiggling her fingers. "Nothing to it. If your ears bother you when you get back to Arisa Port," - a tiny port town on the edge of the Land of Tea - "chew on something or yawn. Which should be easier since you don't have teeth," she chuckled nervously at her slip of tongue. "Thank you, Toshi-kun," she patted him on the head. "For updating me on Kiddo's status. I really appreciate it. And please be sure to give Nagato-kun and the others my thanks as well."

"You got it, Sakura," he gave her a salute. "Are you planning on going for a swim?"

"No," she lowered herself into a squat right next to the edge of her bed. She rested her chin on her folded forearm. He never grumbled but she knew he did not appreciate being talked down to. No one really did. "Why?"

"I thought I could keep you company if you did!" He chirped brightly. "Like back in Ame and Kiri."

Her face fell slightly. "Sorry, Toshi-kun," her voice held genuine remorse despite the fact she was getting ready to lie through her teeth. She could not tell him about how she was hoarding and being stingy with chakra. He knew her well enough to not keep that information to himself. "I have a busy day ahead of me."

The air around him seemed to sink. "With what? I thought you only had your hospital job?" His mouth hung open, revealing red against his sage-green skin.

"I do," she placated him. "But I'm picking up a shift today. And then I'm seeing Kaka-kun for his next training lesson." The latter half of her statement was not a lie. And that was exactly why she said it.

"Are you lying to me, Sakura?" He asked her pointedly. "Are you going to go look for him?"

"No," she shook her head, stomach twisting.

"We'll find the black shadow, Sakura!" He said emphatically. "We'll find the Uchiha. Jiraiya is looking. The Ame Froglets are looking. We have so many eyes looking!"

"We'll find him," she nodded her head with a belief she did not hold. Sakura pushed up to her feet with a sigh.

Toshi watched her move to her desk with worry in his eyes. His posture perked up when he heard something rattle. His eyes grew wider, pupils dilating until there was hardly any purple left.

"Is that?" He asked with the glee of a child.

"Crickets," Sakura confirmed with a nod of her head. She handed him the jar. He immediately wrapped his arms around it.

"Like Ame!" He chirped, happily. "Did you catch all of them?" Marvel. His tone held great marvel.

Sakura laughed. "No, Toshi-kun there's over a hundred of them in there," she shook her head good-naturedly in her amusement. "The Aburame clan helped me out." She did heal one of their Genin who came back from a mission with a broken femur. "They responded to a D-Rank mission that needed them to clear an infestation from garden beds. I asked if they could bring them to me without the use of insecticide. I think they just assumed it was for a new treatment or medicine I was working on. They didn't ask too many questions."

"But sugar!" Toshi's tongue lolled out of his mouth, he ran it along the side of the glass jar. "You don't cook!"

"I can just manage to melt sugar," she was too busy trying to contain her mirth to be offended. He did say "don't" and not "can't". "Be sure to be sneaky like it taught you so your bullies don't get to them before you do."

"I'm fast!" He said with confidence, swallowing the whole jar back. He burped. "They won't catch me. I'm going to eat all over a hundred of them."

"Atta boy, Toshi-kun," her expression turned sly. "Maybe you can save some for Shinju-chan? She might notice you some more if you were a little more assertive."

Toshi slumped forward as if his bones turned into mush. "She's so pretty, Sakura. She can jump higher than anyone that's our size. My brain just turns off and my tongue just falls out of my mouth and I can't say anything even though I have all these things in my head I want to say and…and…." He covered his eyes with his unwebbed hands.

"It's okay," she patted his head gently. "Just keep trying to work up the courage. It just takes some practice. Especially when things are scary."

Toshi blinked slowly. "Okay." He sighed. "I'll try." He shook his head, gathering his resolve along with his thoughts. "You're not all that bad for a biped," his lips pulled into what she deemed was as close to a smile as he could manage. "I'm really glad you picked me, Sakura. I never got picked before. Just picked on."

"Toshi-kun," her eyes softened. He was assigned to her, but she would never tell him the truth. Not after his admission. "Us non-picked ones need to stick together." Her expression dissolved into regret. "I have to go to the hospital soon."

"Your tadpole picked a name, Sakura. He wrote it down." Toshi stared right through to her soul. "Haru."

"Haru?"

"Because he was found in the Spring," Toshi answered.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face from betraying her shaking insides.

---

It had been almost anticlimactic receiving the summon especially after all that build up. The bird tapped on her window in a steady tap, tap, tap. She opened the window. It stuck out its foot. She gently detached the scrap of paper from its leg. It fluttered away leaving behind a brown down feather that drifted down to the tile floor of her bathroom.

Her heart had picked up from its resting rate but she feigned unawareness as she opened it after taking in a single breath. The handwriting was familiar and the characters were stingy.

6 AM. Tomorrow.

As all it read. Her usual shift start time so she assumed the location would be the same: The Tower.

That had been minutes ago. Potentially even over an hour ago. She did not quantify for it would only serve to add to the anxiety that swirled in her. She maintained her position. The scroll which had her ANBU garbs sealed away in, was lying inconspicuously on her cluttered desk. The curve on her neck and the hair grazing her shoulders was not on account of that. She held in her hands a white porcelain mask with round ears and round eye markings.

Her mask. Her identity. The one she would don again in an official capacity, tomorrow at 6AM. Her thumbs stroked the cheek pads, her eyes traced the superficial fractures in the white paint. All the lines that splintered off and led to nowhere. Deadends.

She lost even more time mapping the paths to deadends.

---

"Okay," she spoke clearly through her mask. The added layer did nothing to impede her sense of satisfaction. "We're getting sharper and crisper on our transitions. Formations A through C are a lock. For D through H, we'll resume tomorrow. I think our reaction time can be cut down by a few seconds with more repetitions."

"Yes, Loris-taicho." The four masked faces dipped their heads in understanding as they stood at attention.

Loris's eyes wandered from the purple Panda mask of Shiranui Genma, to the green Stork mask of Namiashi Raido, to the brown Jackal that was Tatami Iwashi before finally settling on the blue Goat mask that belonged to Uchiha Shinnosuke.

Panda, Stork, and Jackal had more or less gotten the hang of the Hiraishin as a trio in the time she was away. Just as their counterparts did from what she remembered Naruto telling her. Goat was standing more tightly than the others. He was an outsider. The three other guards of the Hokage were all part of the same Genin Squad. They even formed an ANBU unit together. They knew each other better than their families did. So it was not a surprise that they would not have much trouble managing the task. Goat, Goat was not even a factor in her time.

After her run-in with Obito and his cousin, she had done more research. She had to rely on his ANBU records, her memory of Danzo's records - which were deemed too dangerous to keep a paper trail - and any public mission files that predated his time in the ANBU Ops. He was a skilled tracker. Proficient in genjutsu. Able to use both Fire and Lightning releases. He was less comfortable with Water but able to use it at a Chunin level. There were no complaints or reprimands filed against him in ANBU. There was no overlap between Cat and Goat in ANBU.

He was nothing out of the ordinary for an Uchiha. He never tried for Root. He did not have enough missions to even be considered or a special circumstance or showing that grabbed attention. He was one of the Uchiha she had ruled out early in the process. She had a suspicion that Minato extended the guard to include an Uchiha after her insistence that he thank them during his inauguration speech. After all, what spoke higher to trust than having a member of the clan in charge of his protection? Nothing.

"Goat, can I talk to you for a second?" She did not miss the way his shoulder lurched in response to her out-of-the-norm request.

"Yes, Loris-taicho," he moved hastily to fall in step with her. The nerves seemed to cling to him as a separate entity, bogging him down.

They walked until they were out of hearing distance from the other guards, further into Training Grounds Six. The others stood loitering around talking amongst themselves, waiting for the official dismissal.

Loris turned to face him when she deemed it far enough. "How do you feel it's going with the Hiraishin training?"

Goat hesitated. "I'm weighing them down. Without me, they can manage almost five Hiraishin before reaching their limit. With me, we can barely manage two."

"I think it would benefit us all if you learned how to do it on your own," Sakura kept her voice neutral with nothing but an air of professionalism. "The goal is not to be able to chain as many Hiraishin back to back as the Yondaime does. We're not learning to incorporate it into our fighting technique but as a tool for transport."

"Right." He nodded his head to indicate he understood the distinction.

"So if we can get you to be able to handle three and still have chakra to do what makes you unique that is what we should aim for. We're a team. We need to bring out the best in each other. Highlight our strengths and minimize each other's weaknesses."

"Yes, Loris-taicho."

"Starting tomorrow, you and I will work on getting you there. You can also use the time to ask any questions about theory you may have." She suspected some of it to be mental. Once the understanding clicked, it was just a matter of keeping your legs steady, your stomach settled, and not leaking too much chakra.

"Understood, Loris-taicho."

"Good," she raised her voice. "Good work team. It's getting late so we'll call it a day. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow - an hour before the sun is up - right here in Training Ground Six."

She saw their nods. Genma was the first one to take off his mask. He stretched his arms over his head. Stork and Jackal were quick to follow suit. She returned her gaze back to Goat who had shuffled his weight on his feet.

"Um…."

"Yes?" She prompted. A bubble bath called to her. She would be sore in all the places where Minato took his frustrations regarding her out on her, unless she soaked in salts. She did not believe the line that he had accidentally fired off a Rasengan at close range. Or his utterances of how he thought she would Hiraishin out of the way and to safety. The bastard. He was a terrible liar. Almost as terrible as his mood. She did not know what to make of him as of late. He could barely say two words to her unless it was during a spar. She chalked it up to the "Danzo" category and put dirt over it. Danzo was not going to take up more of her thoughts. She was done thinking about Danzo.

"Would you like to grab dinner?" He asked in one breath, quickly.

She did not move as she tried not to jump to all kinds of conclusions about how he could have possibly determined her identity. There should be zero paper trail or proof that Sakura No-Last-Name was Loris.

"Smooth," Genma called out more than loud enough to not politely ignore.

She heard snickering from the trio. Goat pulled off his mask. His hair was mussed from the quickness of the action. His cheeks were flushed with red. She did not know Uchihas could blush.

"Not like that!" He held up his hands, speaking quickly. "We usually grab dinner and drinks after work on Thursdays," he explained in a flustered state. "As a team. We go as a team."

"I see," she said slowly, feeling herself relax bit by bit.

"To blow off steam and the like," he continued to explain. He was quickly approaching the realm of over-explanation.

"We've been doing it for years. He just decided to tag along one day. Invited himself," Genma chewed on his shenbon.

"I," his face grew even redder. He was looking anywhere but her mask.

"Stop riding him, Genma. I invited him. An open invitation," Iwashi slung his arm around Genma's neck nearly causing the bandana-clad ANBU to choke. He ignored Genma's disgruntled glare.

"You're welcome to come with us, Loris-taicho." Shinnosuke tried to recover some of his crumbling dignity. "An open invitation?"

"Leave her alone, Uchiha," Genma gestured for him to come join them. "Taicho doesn't fraternize with anyone."

"It's true," Sakura confirmed without emotion. "Don't get into trouble," she looked at Genma as she said that.

"Yes, yes, Taicho." He curtsied, cheekily to which Sakura rolled her eyes under her mask at what he clearly believed to be so hilarious.

She used Hiraishin to arrive inside her apartment, passing out face first on her bed just after she had shed all her outer layers. The bubble bath would have to wait because sleep as it turned out, could not.

---

Sakura-san!

My, I must say, as welcoming and hospitable Suna was, there is no place like home. Yuri-chan and I are more than delighted to be back. Everything is how we left it. Both of us are quite over the idea of more travel at the moment, otherwise we would have set off on the same trek with your fellow shinobi back to Konoha. Believe me, the prospect of seeing your face again and sharing a cup of sake under the stars was very tempting. But work comes first, my dear. And I need to be settled and focused for the next few months before I set back out to Suna for phase two of the project. No rest for the wicked, I must tell you.

Nothing is finalized yet but I am cautiously optimistic that we might have some more friends who will help. I'll give you a little hint: solar energy. Kami knows that Suna is the sunniest place on earth for four months out of the year. If I can convince an old coot about giving me a steep discount…oh look at me getting carried away. It is only at your instance that I write what comes to mind - straight from the heart - that I have not tossed this letter in the trash. Sorry you had to read that. I am just very excited you see.

Anko-chan is a delight! Her and Yuri-chan got along like two peas in the pod. I will say though, I am convinced Anko-chan taught her some things. As in I have to keep a closer eye on my little Lilly lest the staff start falling sick for daring to tell her "no". The Chunin - she insists I address her by her rank, if I must address her at all - is spirited.

You will be receiving a shipment in a number of weeks. Perhaps as short as one. Truth be told, I had very real concerns that you would not receive it if I passed it along via the hands of Aoyama-san or Anko-chan. As it contains sake from Suna. The desert certainly knows its way around it. I can assure you, it will be well worth the wait. Save me a bottle. We will drink it together once I am back in Konoha. Or better yet, you are in Suna to see the completed project with your own eyes. The other two are for you to enjoy however you see fit.

I should stop while I am ahead. You are a busy woman with many matters vying for your attention. Thank you for humoring this old, missing a few screws in the head, friend of yours. Yuri-chan smiles for the whole day on the days she receives your letters. And she claims I do the same. We look forward to hearing from you soon.

Take care of yourself Sakura-san,

Junji

---

The faces not as weathered or as aged as she remembered stared at her, openly and without even the appearance of common courtesy. Koharu leaned back on the leather sofa, the hair clip that was secured by her bun sounded almost like a windchime. It was nice. It would have been nice if it was not associated with such a vile personality.

"Loris," she ground out the name as if it were a dirty curse. "Why should we trust you?"

Loris's gloved hands were flat against her thighs, fingertips pressed against bent knees. Non-threatening. No cloak. The hope was, less layers of obscurity, the shorter this impromptu interrogation would be. A note left in her slot at the mail post for her to find.

"The Yondaime," Homura crossed his arms, his lips pulling at a frown, "is far too trusting. As are the other ANBU Operatives in the Guard. They welcomed you back into the fold with too open arms, we believe."

Wasn't as easy as you're making it sound.

The other members of the Guard had been hesitant. What they could not give themselves permission to say outloud was held in their stances. It had taken time. Repetition. Days to get back into a routine of things. She was nearly gone for six months from when she left for Ame and was given back her mask. They got used to her not being there. It had been awkward and tense but nothing some drills and spars did not correct. She was the same Loris they remembered and could count on. But they were not interested in hearing all of that.

Loris opened her mouth to address the concerns of the esteemed Elders. Images of future Sakura having to pull them out of Tsunade's grip - because who else could - as she dangled them off the ground flashed in her mind. She could not open quite that strongly as she did not have a title to protect her. A title that no one else qualified enough wanted.

"We have read the transcripts, we have heard the testimonies, we know of your skills and your accolades," Koharu narrowed her eyes, causing Loris to close her mouth. The woman's eyelids were almost touching, leading Loris with a ridiculous urge to wave her hand in front of the Elder's face just to see if she could actually see the gesture. "But we are not convinced. There are too many holes in your story. You were his spy, Danzo's spy."

"We believe that," Homura adjusted his glasses on his face. "There was no reason for you to know of the maps that Jiraiya was creating. You had the means and opportunity to speak to Orochimaru. You left the village quite often and your mission history is suspect. It is all the wind."

Well, if you'd let me explain.

She opened her mouth to do just that. But it was not Koharu's voice or even Homura's that had her sealing her lips together. It was a chakra signature. The way it swirled spoke to something that he himself never would. It was volatile. She rose to her feet and bowed in the direction of the door before it opened.

A pair of heads turned in tandem. A head of sunshine-yellow hair broke the muted colors of the room. He did not look at her but she was used to it.

"Loris-san," his voice was pleasant and his smile was easy. But a chill went down her spine anyway. His chakra, the one he did not bother to hide from her, was turbulent. Harsh. Extreme. Angry. She almost felt bad for the Elders because his sapphire irises were fixated on them. "There is nothing more for you to discuss here. Please go wait in my office."

"Yes, Hokage-sama." She bowed vaguely in the direction of the Elders that exchanged a look. It could have been even called uneasy. She peeled one foot off the floor and in the direction of the door. He had stepped further into the space, no longer blocking the only exit. And she was thankful. She did not want to test that tone. She did not want to entertain how he found her. She supposed she had wanted him to. That was why she did not hide her chakra from him either.

"Utatane-sama, Mitokado-sama," Minato spoke in the same smooth voice of his. A controlled aggression that was delivered in a quiet calm. "I was under the impression that this matter was-"

The door closed behind her, rendering whatever was happening in that room. She did not care to know. All she knew was she wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. She did not want to have to deny yet another thing.

xXx

"Hokage-sama?" She called out timidly. He had stormed - by his standards - into his office and closed the door, sinking into his purple chair and angrily pulled arbitrary paperwork in front of him and began to write all without his eyes moving across the page. That was over - she glanced at the clock behind her - fifteen minutes ago. The only sound he produced was the movement of paper and the scratch of a pen.

Do I just leave…or?

She glanced at the door wondering if she could just walk out of it as easily as she had left the previous room and the situation she did not want to be in. His head was still bowed and his eyes focused on the page in front of him. Moving from top to bottom and right to left. Something inside told her that if he had to find her…she would not like it. Even remotely.

"Is everything alright?" She bit the kunai head and asked directly for perhaps the first time.

"Everything is fine," he answered deceptively smooth. But she was well versed in his tonal fluctuations to know that there were hints of tightness, the very same with what he carried in his shoulders.

"I can submit to another brain scan or psych exam to convince them-"

"You will not," Minato cut her off harshly. She flinched instinctively. That tone of his always made her clench up. "You will not do any of the sort," he lowered his voice daring her or anyone to suggest otherwise again. "If someone is giving you trouble you tell me. If someone is so much as hinting at questioning you, your loyalty, you come to me. There is zero tolerance for this behavior. Do I make myself clear?"

A knock at the door stopped her from doing something foolish like asking him outright why he was so damn upset. She turned to look over her shoulder because that very something inside of her said it would be a mistake to present her back to the Yondaime when he was like this…like whatever this was.

"Come in," Minato said from his desk, peeling his eyes off of her mask. Cobalt landed on a stoic onyx. Onyx that darted from his face to Loris's mask before back to him.

"I can come back," Shikaku pointed over his shoulder. He was still in the doorway, one foot in the room and one in the back.

"I was just leaving," Loris said in the face of this new opportunity, one she would not let go to waste. She turned her neck back to its natural position and dipped her head in the direction of his desk. "Hokage-sama."

"Loris," he narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly that at a glance there was nothing out of the ordinary to pick up on.

"I understand," she responded to the prompt. "Nara-san," she dipped her head to the clan head before vanishing, not opting for the door this time, unwilling to press her luck.

"Bad time?" Shikaku raised an inquisitive brow.

"When is it not?" The blond Hokage countered without color.

The Nara did not bother to hide his frown.

---

Time had come to a screeching halt hours ago. Each second seemed to take years off of her life. Her face was blank. All her energies were focused on her eyes, hearing, and breathing. Staying hidden and undetectable was second nature. She did not have to work at it anymore. The faces came and went underneath her. But the one that was of interest to her had not moved from the bar in hours.

This was how she spent her hours off, following, stalking, and tracking down faces whose only crime very well could be just their last name. A member of the Konoha Military Police Force. A member that showed promise. A member that she marked to be of interest.

Other than the fact that this man had not been promoted to rank past Jonin, and not been accepted into ANBU despite his numerous applications - thus giving him a reason to be bitter toward Konoha, even if it was shaky - she had no reason to justify what she was doing. Spying on fellow Konoha shinobi.

She watched him finish his drink at the bar. He was returning back home - just a few hours away - from his mission in the morning. He was unwinding like many did, by himself with a drink. She knew he would go back to his hotel room alone and sleep it off until dawn broke out, signaling time to head back on the road. Despite knowing that she would follow him. She would monitor his heart rate from a distance. She would check the room for spikes in chakra. Even though she had a feeling it would amount to nothing more than crossing a name off a list.

---

"Dirt!" A voice exclaimed in pure ecstasy with hints of derangement. The teen thrust herself to the ground, falling to her hands and knees. She pressed her cheek into the soil just on the other side of the barrier. "Home. I'm home!" She exclaimed practically wiggling against the ground like a giant earthworm, failing on concrete on a hot sunny day. "I missed you," she cooed the earth, patting it with her hand gently and with great care and consideration.

"Anko-chan," Loris sighed deeply. "Get up."

"I'm on solid ground again!" She did not peel herself off said solid ground.

"You've been on solid ground for at least a day and a half," a teenage boy snarked as he pushed up his glasses to wipe at his eyes which were turning red thanks to symptoms of hay fever.

Anko ignored him. She was too busy making dirt angels, laughing like a crazy person in pure glee. "I'm home!" Anko shouted from the top of her lungs, grinning from ear to ear.

I can't remember the last time I was that happy.

I don't think you ever were, Sakura.

Loris nodded her head in the direction of the Jonin instructor - Aoyama Mamaru - who looked like he had just been reanimated not even three seconds ago, actually she had seen corpses with more color.

"Aoyama-sensei," Loris's lilted voice called out. "Welcome back," she smiled at the squad form behind her mask. "I'll be escorting you to The Tower."

The man with mousy-brown hair let out a grunt which she supposed was as close to a greeting as she would get.

Anko bounced off the ground with scores more energy than her two teammates, a Hyuuga boy from the branch house and the Yamanka - the boy with the round glasses.

"Sensei!" She flung her arm around Loris's waist, leaning into her as they led the pack.

"Anko-chan," Loris ruffled her hair with a gloved hand. Anko changed her garbs to suit the Suna winds. She was dressed in all shades of beige. Covered head to toe in a canvas like material. A large yellow handkerchief around her neck that sat loose enough so she could pull it up to cover her nose and mouth at a moment's notice. "You look well. No missing limbs or appendages," she teased.

"You came," Anko's eyes sparkled. "Or are you a clone?" She asked suspiciously. Eyes darting from side to side. Her right hand twitched.

"Put the senbon away," Loris chided her while snaking an arm across her shoulders.

Anko's face fell as she complied with the order. "Man. I wanted to show you my new poison. See how long it took you to identify it. I bet you can't," she practically sang in excitement. She had used exclusively Suna native plants. There was no way in her mind that her sensei, as great as she was, would know how to combat it.

"There will be plenty of time for that later," Loris assured her. "Did you bring the antidote?"

"Oh course," Anko scoffed in offense. "What is this amature-hour?"

"Just checking to make sure you didn't forget the basics," she gave the girl's shoulders a squeeze. "I missed you."

"Speaking of," Anko glittered with interest, her cheeks dusted with pink. "Did I miss anything good while I was in the pits?"

"Um," Loris pursed her lips. "Not really." The answer seemed to please Anko. "How was Suna?"

"I'm done talking about Suna," the teen groaned. "You didn't answer the question!" Anko whined. "Is this all a lie?"

"You get the real deal for all the hard work you've done." Loris's voice held pride. "I heard they were very impressed with you."

"It was hard," Anko grumbled. "And no duh. You saw the quality of their Genin. Nothing worth writing home about." She was two shades tanner than Sakura remembered seeing her last. "Can we get tea later?" She asked hopefully, chin tilted up to catch Loris's eyes.

"Yes," the ANBU said with a nod. "Rin-chan is joining us too once you're done with your mission statement."

Anko cheered loudly, fist punching the air. "I missed you too, Sensei," the girl whispered just loud enough for Loris to make sense of, safe from her teammates' ears.

Loris's gloved hand dusted the coating of dirt from the grinning Chunin's cheek.

---

"Damn this rain," she murmured with her hand out from under the temporary shelter she had taken. It had come out of nowhere. The cold water hitting her cold skin compounded the chill spreading through her. She could feel it moving down her spine. But she smiled despite it. She could not remember the last time she had simply watched the droplets without having to actively be under it.

She turned her head at the sound of feet scurrying, clothing being ruffled, and voices exclaiming. A face came into sight from under a dark hood. Dark hair nearly black was plastered against a wet forehead. The woman moved the wet strands from her face with a laborious sigh. The first thing Sakura noticed was the stark asymmetry of the cut and the second was the extended belly. A civilian.

"What?" The woman sneered at her, leading Sakura to realize that she had been staring. "You've never seen a pregnant woman in the rain before?"

"Sorry," Sakura turned to look back out at the rain. She adjusted her own hood over her pink hair.

"Hold on," the woman frowned. She encroached on Sakura's personal space. "Forehead-Girl?"

"I'm sorry?" Sakura raised a brow.

The woman snapped her fingers, pointing them in Sakura's face, right under her nose. "It is you," her purple eyes were almost as cold as the weather.

"I think you have me confused with someone else." She did the math in her head of how quickly she would have to walk to move between the raindrops to avoid being completely drenched by the time she made it home. After the day and shift she had, she really did not want to use any more chakra.

"Sakura," the woman said in a tone implicated by her offense. "It's me, Ami."

The dripping black hair was starting to lighten to a dark purple, the dark purple eyes and the conviction she carried on her features. The woman in front of her truly believed that would mean something to her.

"I'm sorr-"

"From the orphanage," Ami pressed. "We grew up together. We slept in the same room for eight years, Sakura. How could you forget all that?"

"I guess it just wasn't all that memorable," Sakura answered. "I really should get going." She dipped her head. "Good luck to you with your baby."

Ami blinked as the woman ducked under the low overhang. She was off running, holding her hood close to her.

"She really doesn't remember me," the former bully murmured in disbelief. There was nothing in Sakura's eyes when their gazes met. Not even a glimmer of recognition. "How could she forget me?"

---

"Okay, Kakashi-kun," Loris eyed the teen who was standing three yards in front of her. "The name of this lesson is: anticipation."

"Anticat-"

The air left his lungs as a clone punched him straight in the side of his jaw, sending him to the left several more feet.

"Don't get distracted now," she called out as he grunted. He was chasing around stars that only he could see. "Keep up, Kakashi-kun. I expect you at my hip." The foot-long red ribbon attached to black utility belt at her hip taunted him. A visual guide to make her easier to see. A flag. A target.

"I hate you," Kakashi said with angry eyes, lowering his mask to spit blood and saliva on the ground.

"As long as you stay alive," Loris moved through the terrain flashing quickly. "I can live with that."

The Hataka grumbled, eyes darting as he used shushin to try to anticipate where she would be next so that he could be at her hip. Right where she wanted him to be. Oh and the earth clone, the one cackling menacingly while cracking her knuckles wanted nothing more than to prevent him from doing just that, was just an added slight complication.

---

"I think I may have something."

Her words that were risky to say, had an immediate effect. The kunai he was tossing - the ones that were his signature - curled in his hand, coming to a rest. His eyes are more focused and his posture was no longer that of leisurely lounging. Minato sat up and his attention was fully on her. There was only the wind, the leaves, and the birds in the trees but she witnessed him make the seals necessary to hush their voices. Her fingers wiggled against the grass and the illusion breathed to life. One of just the Hokage sitting, enjoying the moments of peace he worked so hard to bring about.

He nodded his head and she cleared her throat. "This whole time we've been looking at this the wrong way. Have you seen the seal in Gamakagi-san's mouth? The one that nullifies chakra of foreign bodies?"

"It's a blood seal. Gamakagi-sama's chakra is mixed in with his blood to form the suppression barrier. That's why it's so strong," Minato explained.

He did not need to tell her. She had experienced it first hand. Granted she was not a tailed beast but she did not see why something similar could not work. It would just have to be scaled.

"Right and that got me thinking," she paused to give her words one more pass through in her head before she said them out loud, thus making them impossible to take back. "This whole time, we've been looking at the seal from the outside on how to fortify it. You've added your chakra, traps, and layers but the issue remains that your chakra and the seals are inherently foreign entities to Uzumaki-sama's system, to her DNA." Sakura spoke quickly, perhaps out of the fear of being cut off or misunderstood before she could fully explain her plan.

"You're saying," his brows knitted together forming a divot between them, "we should be looking at it from the inside. How to fortify it from the inside like Gamakagi-sama's suppression seal."

"Exactly," she nodded her head, reaching back into her hip pouch. Her fingers found the single piece of parchment, extracting it. Sakura held it out to him, arm fully extended. Minato extended his own to take it from her, mirroring her gesture. She waited until he smoothed out the creases before she spoke again. He was fixated on the markings with his head bowed but she knew he was listening.

"We know that pregnancy makes the seal weaker, gradually but it also provides us with an opportunity. Your DNA is inside of her. The essence that is tied to your chakra signature along with hers is growing in her womb. Half yours and half hers. Fifty-fifty. So the Kyuubi does not see your half as a foreign entity, because it's balanced with Uzumaki-sama's half," she explained with her tested clinical voice. No emotion. Just facts presented to him.

"We have to leverage that. We can use it to form a seal on the inside. One that gets stronger the more the fetus develops. As the fetus develops. A failsafe if anything happens before the outer seal can have a chance to dissolve. Another layer. Maybe we can even have them work together. As the outer seal weakens, the inner can feed off of that or something. Or the other way around, as the inner seal gets stronger, the outer will deteriorate less. I haven't worked out all the details because I figured you might have an idea and we could work-"

"No," Minato shook his head firmly. He folded up the seal drawn by her hand. "No." He held out the folded up paper for her to take from him but she had no such intentions.

"Think rationally," she implored him. She expected pushback. It was his wife and child. It was his whole world. But he was a rational man at his core. He could be reasoned with once the shock of the prospect wore off.

"The risk is too great," he said tightly in a clear warning that this topic of conversation was over. To further add insult to injury, he crumpled up the folded up paper in his hands and set it to flame. She watched the ashes float away with a slack jaw.

"Namikaze-sama," she bit the inside of her cheek to appease some of the anger in her. She was offended. On more counts than just one. "I can help you. I would never have brought this up if I thought there was a risk of any harm to Uzumaki-sama. To either of them. It will work. We just have to work together."

"No," he turned his head away from her. The tight set of his jaw was held together by the weight of bleak reality. He had gotten his hopes up and she was the one who failed to hold them there.

Sakura opened her mouth and inhaled air to protest. His sharp gaze cut her off before she could begin. A shiver ran down her spine. The same one that was starting to become more and more frequent, the same shiver that rendered her incapable of speech. The one that made her feel four years old again. The same one she hated with every fiber of her being because it reminded her that she had not come all that far after all.

"She will not survive the extraction if two seals break. If the Kyuubi had to shatter two gates - to squeeze through two openings - it caused more strain and more trauma for Kushina to overcome." There were hairline cracks in his composure everywhere she looked. There was something in his eyes that she was not accustomed to seeing: fear. She could only stare at him in shock behind her mask.

It did not last long. Her anger boiled and she needed an outlet before she burned alive. She completely forgot about the fact that they were on very thin ice themselves. "That is not even the point! The presence of the second seal - one inside the walls of her stomach - will prevent the very scenario that you're ruminating on. It will completely eliminate the possibility of it."

"You don't know that."

"But I do," she insisted. "You can't let fear of loss cloud your ability to think independently. You can't let your fear dictate your actions. If she was anyone else would you be-"

"She's not anyone else!" He snapped at her. "She is my wife, Sakura." He inhaled a breath she could hear, pause. He had not paused while uttering his last sentence. It was almost as if he was pointing her out to someone. She is my wife Sakura; that was what he said, that was what it sounded like he said. Surely it had to be his slipping composure and nothing more. "I'm only human." A deeper crack formed. One that she both heard and felt. "It's my wife and my son whose lives are on the line. You can't expect me to not have feelings about this. Regardless of what you find rational or irrational."

She recoiled like he had struck her with his statement. She fought against the stunned stupor that he left her in. She shook her head, slowly. "I'm a medic." Her voice was hollow in the beginning stages of her pulling herself together. She was the best. He said it himself. Once. "I'm a medic," she repeated with more credibility. "I am telling you that she will be fine. The baby - your son - will be fine. It can work. It will work."

"Do you really think that your Minato didn't think of this?" He asked her openly as if she had not just bared her soul to him for him to take into consideration. "Or Uzumaki-sama and Senju-sama did not think of this?"

She could not speak to The First Hokage and the First Jinchuriki of the Kyuubi. But on his initial question, she had words. She had many words.

"That Minato did not know what you know. That Minato did not know he had to worry about someone doing this to his family. That Minato did not have the confidence to know it would work. That Minato did not have me." She pointed her index finger to her chest, stabbing her chestplate with a gloved hand. "You have my word. You said you trusted me. So trust me. Use me, Minato. Use my expertise. Use me so that we can make sure the seal doesn't break and the Madara lackey doesn't hurt your family. Use me," she was begging him.

She held her breath waiting for his verdict, holding her hope in one hand and her heart in the other. She was not long for the world. She should not care about the state of affairs she left behind between them. She should not care what he thought of her beyond knowing that he could trust her. But oftentimes, reality fell short of her expectations.

"No."

It hurt to know that someone who knew her first, who knew how hard she worked did not believe in her skills. Not when it mattered most. It hurt more than she could put into words to have him doubt her abilities, to have him not trust her with his most precious people. It hurt so bad that she could not even draw in breath. Her hand on her chest balled up into a fist, she clenched the black material of her high-neck sleeveless top. If he doubted her, so be it. But maybe there was still an angle for her to get through to him.

"Uzumaki-sama is stronger than you give her credit for," Sakura said in a throaty whisper brought on by stooping so low that the abrasive gravel of the earth's crust agitated her vocal cords. The tears of her shame and self-loathing stung in the back of her eyes. She knew she was capable. She was the best. But in his eyes, it did not matter. They were never equals. "She'll be fine."

"I know," his blond lashes closed over his eyes. He could not bring himself to look at her, even still. Even after all these weeks that bled into months. "She's strong. She's stronger than I am." The left corner of his lips twitched indecisively, not sure what to commit to. "It's the first thing I noticed about her." He paused for but a moment but the pain it caused Sakura would last the rest of this lifetime, for her. "We're done talking about this."

The former Root operative rose to her feet. "I need a couple of personal days. Starting right now."

"Why?" He tilted his head back to regard her mask.

"It's personal." She shushined away.

The illusion was disrupted but the picture did not change. The lone Hokage sighed as he stared off into the horizon. His fist had yet to uncurl, blood would drip down his palm from where his three-pronged kunai cut into his flesh.

---

Smoke entered her lungs and she would be lying if she said she did not inhale a little deeper the next breath. It was oddly comforting. It reminded her of afternoons of future Sakura playing shogi with Shikamaru. She would berate him for smoking - a lit cigarette perched at the ends of his lips - and he would tell her that she was free to leave at any time if it bothered her so much after passive aggressively reminding her that she came to him. She would tell him that she was waiting for his clansmen to give her the discarded antlers for a new medication she was developing. To which, he would point out that the bag at the edge of the covered porch had been packed and sitting ready for her tens of minutes ago. And she would roll her eyes and remind him that his mother asked her to stay for tea. She would gesture to said tea and point out that it was too hot to drink. He would call her pushy, troublesome, and a nag. She would smile and take it because she recognized all her favorite snacks all ready for her to enjoy with her tea. Something that Yoshino did not know.

She was feeling particularly sentimental today. And it felt as if there was very little she could do about it. So she embraced it. Falling deeper and deeper with each click of her thin heels. The doors parted. A world of color, light, and sound greeted her as she stepped with her tall stilettos. Here fortune was either Kami or the Oni. It was all a matter of perspective. Her auburn hair hung in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She moved through the bodies barely stopping long enough to make sense of the chaos around her.

Her dark red lips curled into a smile as she slinked past two men. She subtly - expertly - avoided the hands that intended to press against her back as she did so - she had been too hasty in burning her dress, she had to purchase another one but she made sure this one had more fabric and pockets on top of a smaller price tag. Cheap. The dress was cheap. It only gave the illusion of class from afar, fittingly. Her thick fringe sat over her lashes. She did not have to strain her ears to find an all-too-familiar voice.

Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, Shishou. She tutted in her head. But then again who would be dumb enough to try to take advantage of Senju Tsunade? The face of an angel with the temperament that would scare any Oni. Sakura held her dark clutch to her. She found Tsunade's face at the cards table. She was scowling and accusing the dealer of having it out for her.

Still a horribly sore loser.

The consistency brought warmth to her otherwise numbed-in-place heart. She slid into the open seat to Tsunade's left. There were plenty of options. Tsunade's volatile temper was to thank. She lowered her green shawl that was draped around her arms before smiling at the blonde who had only flickered her gaze to her for a second.

Dismissive. Disinterested. Disenchanted.

"How's the luck here?" Sakura asked in a lilted voice. Feminine and pleasant.

"Shit," Tsunade grumbled. The cocktail waitress clad in a black skin-tight number slipped between them with such fluidity it was as if she was never there. She filled Tsunade's empty sake up.

"Let's see if we can do something about that," Sakura said with a satisfied sigh. "I'll have one too please," she smiled at the brunette. The woman nodded. She was back as quickly as she had left with another cup. She filled it for Sakura. Sakura curled her fingers around the saucer, smiling in thanks. Her fingernails were painted the same shade as Tsunade's. An homage of sorts. She crossed her leg over her knee. From her clutch she procured chips. She set them down on the table.

The dealer began to deal her in. Sakura watched as Tsunade placed another bad bet. The blonde glowered when more than half of her tower of chips was taken away by the man in a crisp, dark suit.

xXx

"Maybe you took all the luck," Tsunade grumbled as she looked at the pile of chips growing at her neighbor's station. "Sucked it right out of the air."

"Maybe," Sakura smiled coyly. "Tsunade-sama," she added with a knowing smirk.

The blonde woman blinked at her through the cloudy haze of her intoxication and indignation of her bad loss. "Do I know you?" She tapped her fingernail against the edge of her ceramic cup.

"I can't see how," Sakura looked down at her hand.

"Oh?" Tsunade pursued her pink lips together. "And how do you see it?"

"You're famous, respected, renowned," Sakura shook her head, lowering her cards to the table, facedown. "I'm just passing through."

"Hm," Tsunade clicked her tongue. "No, that's not it. It's your eyes." She pointed with a maroon tipped finger. "You have the same eyes as a girl I knew." The blonde rubbed the space between her thin blonde brows. "Smarter at thirteen than half the adults I had the displeasure of coming across in my time." The way her voice lilted, it almost be mistaken for a prideful boast. Almost.

She remembers. Not that it mattered beyond the warmth in her belly. Because it was all temporary. Fleeting. A matter of a blink of the eye.

"Knew?" Sakura asked lightly, watching with disinterest as someone came to sit on the other side of her.

"A lifetime ago," Tsunade knocked back her sake, drowning the haunted look from her eyes. "Another round?" Amber eyes darted to the face down cards under Sakura's folded hands.

She sighed and shook her head. "I'd like to call it a night."

"You're insane!" Tsunade gaped at her with an open mouth. "You have a streak going! What kind of person walks away from that? Your luck is still rolling."

Sakura tapped the back of her fanned cards with her fingertips. She slid them over to Tsuande along with three chips. "Well, maybe it will transfer to you. Good luck and goodbye, Tsunade-sama." She dipped her head in the direction of the woman, in reverence before leaving two additional chips on the table. She smiled at the dealer. "Good night," her voice was soft.

"Thank you," he nodded at her before tucking them away under the counter. Her heels clicked further and further away.

"What a moron," Tsunade grumbled under her breath darkly. Tsunade picked up the discarded hand. Her eyes became flat. Her pupils dilated slightly. She blinked.

"And you, Hime?" The dealer called out to her.

Tsunade cleared her throat, rubbing away the tingly feeling in her head. The alcohol seemed to migrate there too quickly. She set down the cards and pushed in the chips.

"Let the good times roll."

Loud exclamations of "I won?!" filled the casino. Only to be followed by a wary utterance of "I won?"

xXx

She caught herself from falling, slowing down the descent. Sakura slid down the wall. Unable to contain the anguish with her hand that cupped her mouth. She had not thought herself capable of this reaction. She had not seen the woman in over a decade. It was not as if she was a fixture in her life anymore. She was hardly maternal in any regard even in the short time she knew her in this life. Letting go of Tsunade should not have caused her to crumble like this.

But it did. It did. Because Tsunade was the first person to see future Sakura as something other than Naruto's and Sasuke's teammate. Tsunade was the first person to see her as something other than the other member of Team Seven. Tsunade was the one who made her into something her parents could never even dream of. They had laughed, she remembered. When she told them that the Godaime agreed to take her on as an apprentice, killing all excitement she had at the news.

Why would the Godaime want someone like you to teach when she has better things to do like run the village?

Oh, Sakura-chan just go back and tell her you changed your mind. It will be too hard for you and a burden on her. Just save us all the trouble, Dear.

Save them from the humiliation they meant. She was too young to understand it as a thirteen-year-old girl but she was far from naive now. Tsunade was the first person whom she respected who saw something in her. Something that could be nurtured and molded. And she did nurture it in her own way. By fire. She hardened her spine with it. Tsunade purged the self-doubt placed there by none other than Haruno Kizashi and Haruno Mebuki and made Haruno Sakura into something. Someone who could save her teammates. Because Haruno Sakura saved Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke. She did that. Because Senju Tsunade saw something in her, in future Sakura.

Senju Tsunade was the first adult to show Sakura No-Last-Name some kindness. The small Loris stuffed animal - that she would learn was given away as a promotion for the new exhibit when the blonde visited the zoo with her brother earlier that week - that she gave her, brought her the only comforts she had in this world. Even before her memories came back, Senju Tsunade was someone Sakura No-Last-Name wanted to emulate. She was her inspiration. Before Sasuke. Before Naruto. Before Ino. Before even Minato. So it was only fitting that she would be the first person to completely forget Sakura No-Last-Name. Wiped from her memories and erased from her world; as good as never being there in the first place.

---

Every rise and fall of her boot clad foot made it be known just how heavy it was as she clambered up the steps. The sun shone through the windows but she did not feel it where she was; covered in the cold shroud of her own making. Decisions had consequences. She had made hers a long time ago and she was running out of days left of breath. They were quantifiable. If she wanted to have the foundation she laid for her mission to be successful after her passing, she needed to share. In order to unburden herself of the perpetual 'what-ifs' that may not even let her rest into the next world, she needed to burden him. It was unavoidable. He forced her hand with his stubbornness. Sakura brought her fist toward the door.

"Come in," his voice called out before she could tap her knuckles against the wood.

Sakura swallowed thickly, turning the doorknob to cover the audibleness of it. The light streamed in behind him encasing his yellow hair in a sunny glow. She had to remind herself to breathe because given the angle of the light and its brightness his face was replaced by one she knew only in memory and thought. The bigger eyes - more round - the round face, tan skin, the three whiskers on each cheek. The memory of Naruto caused her heart to lurch in her chest. She would see him be Hokage next time around. She promised herself right then and would see him sitting behind that desk wearing an orange cloak with his title down the back.

"Sakura," she could hear the surprise in his voice. Surprise because she was wearing her face and not her mask.

"Hokage-sama," she dipped her head. Correcting the set of her growing-out bangs with the ease of repetition as she stood at her full height. Sturdy. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Without hesitation he stood from his chair and touched the wall with his flat palm, activating the seal, in his answer. The hum of his chakra lingered in the air. The door locked and the windows turned opaque for any eyes looking in.

"I was thirteen when my memories came back," she started with very little ceremony, not even giving him time to settle back into his chair.

xXx

It was not for a single moment that she spoke; it was many. Nearly countless. She kept going until they were all the way back in the present. She wove her tale between lifetimes and decades. She shared what she deemed absolutely necessary. She obscured or glossed over everything else. She was not one to expect what she was not willing to do. She had to trust him with his now. With what the Danzo from her time had done and what he had planned. What he had been able to accomplish.

She had to tell him about the night that he and his wife died, the night his son was born. She had to tell him about the torment Naruto endured being the host of the Kyuubi. Everything. He needed to hear it. It would give him a realistic view of the village and the darkness that existed on the other side of the fire; the side that it did not warm.

She spoke until her voice was hoarse as it was not used to being engaged for such long periods, continuously. One quick glance at the clock reflected that she had been carrying on for more than an hour. Future Sakura's seventeen years were summarized in just seventy-three minutes, with bits and pieces of her own. And now she was waiting and it felt twice as long even if only minutes passed.

"You died."

His lips moved but she did not register the action, her brain was having trouble accepting it. His voice was that of a stranger. She had never heard it sound like that before.

"Yes." She tried to look him in the eye but it was a futile effort. He was evading her attempts to meet his gaze by even looking in her direction.

"You died during the Fourth War."

Sakura did not have the luxury of relying on her mask to hide her surprise. Her eyes slowly darkened as she contemplated how he chose to break his silence, on what he chose to focus on. An insignificant detail, one that just explained her presence. She was a small part of the story, but it was his story. It was his family's story. It was his legacy.

"Yes." She studied his face closely for signs of distress. Hidden and obvious and everything in between.

"When you were seventeen."

"Yes." He was working his way backwards. From her death to now. That was the only logical explanation she found for his hyperfixation. It was a lot. He was taking his time to process.

"You lied to me." Minato did not look at her. He looked past her which was worse than if he ignored her completely, in her entirety. But no. He acknowledged her voice while rejecting everything else about her.

"Yes." Her throat was tight but she held firm, not allowing the narrowed passageway to impact her voice.

"Are you lying to me now?" Detached. Cold. Emotionless. Monotone.

"No," she shook her head to hide even her dishonesty in that. "I have no reason to lie to you now," she lied even then. It was the one consistent thing she brought to the table. The one constant in their ever-changing dynamic because what they had in the past and now was never a relationship.

"You died and my son is the reason you came back. Here. Now. Twenty years ago."

"Yes." Her concern grew with each syllable pushed out from his chest. "A-Are you alright?" She ignored the way she stuttered, failing to be the stable ground that he could rely on. Fitting, she supposed. As there was once a time he would have drank poison from her hands without question and now, here they were. Where he could not stop questioning a single word she uttered.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He's a professional.

His calm was making her restless. It was almost eerie. She did not have an answer and he did not ask another question. She left his office a minute later when he silently deactivated the seal and sat back down in his chair, without being able to put her finger on what about the interaction bothered her the most. She did not know where to begin if she was being honest.

---

"Ah!" The woman breathed so much exasperation and disappointment to the word that Sakura froze practically in terror. "Not like that!" Chika tapped her on the arm, admonishing. "Use your wrist like this." She moved her wrist back and forth. Up and down. "Not like this." She moved it in circles. "You're wasting so much effort doing it your way."

Sobo gets it.

"R-Right," Sakura stammered. She blinked at the glass bowl filled three-fourths of the way with batter. She grabbed the wooden spoon that was resting against the edge of it with a tentative hand. She moved it up and down just as she saw Chika demonstrating.

"Just like that," the woman beamed, patting her on the shoulder. "Let me go check on the chicken," she murmured before flitting away to the other side of the kitchen.

Sakura continued to beat the batter unsupervised. "I'm glad I had some time to come in earlier. To try to actually help out," she eyed the splatter on the once pristine and glistening white granite countertops. "It seems all I managed to help do was create a mess."

"Messes are made to be messy," Chika tutted her. "Thanks to you, my wrists get a break." She pulled the chicken skewers from the flattop. She slathered them generously with a brown sauce.

Sakura's mouth started to water. "Inoichi and Itomi-san might not get any if they don't come in the next half hour or so from their pre-meal walk," she joked. "The chicken looks beautiful."

"I won't tell if you don't," Chika winked at her. The chicken hissed, steam rose as she flipped them to apply sauce to the other side. The grill marks glistened.

"Why not let Itomi-san help - once the baby is here - or at the very least, Inoichi for right now, Chika-san?" Inoichi - a novice - could not be any worse help than her. "Now that your arthritis is getting progressively worse." It was not responding to medicine or even chakra as well as it used to. She needed monthly deep bone and tissue chakra treatments. It was the only way to keep the inflammation bearable.

"Sakura," Chika glanced at her over her shoulder, keeping her eyes and attention mostly on the chicken. "This is how I show my love, Dear. Cooking for my family. Cooking for my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter. This is my purpose. If it is taken from me, I will deteriorate quicker. I want to meet Ino. I want to see Ino grow up. I want to see her become a big sister, Kami-willing. And cooking is going to allow me to do that." Her face crinkled with lines that were not as severe as future Sakura's eyes remembered. "A silly thing like arthritis is not going to keep me from loving my family the way I want to."

"I've never thought of it like that before," Sakura said with a smile that she did not remember donning.

"Besides," Chika transferred the first of the skewers to a plate lined with paper towels. "If it gets too bad, I just pop a couple of Inoichi's gummies and it all sorts itself out."

"Chika-san!" She laughed, taken aback.

"Don't tell Inoichi," the woman rolled her green eyes. "He's so uppity," she shimmied her shoulders to punctuate her point.

"So it wasn't that ANBU he's always gripping about?"

"Oh it was Kai. But Kai paid his dues," her eyes glimmered with mischievousness. "He was such a nice boy." She sighed deeply. "He was just a little lost."

"Hm," Sakura hummed noncommittally. She eyed the batter. "Good?"

Chika peered over her shoulder. "Not even close. Get all the lumps out, Sakura. You should eat here every day. It would fix your limp wrists right up!"

"A simple no would have sufficed, Chika-san," Sakura huffed, doubling her efforts. Splatting more than just the edges of the bowl.

"I'm making you clean these countertops!" Chika wagged a finger. The faint creak of the door opening was lost over the sounds of the kitchen. "They are a pain to maintain. I told Inoichi when he picked them. But did he listen to me? No! A white kitchen, he said. It will look beautiful, Okaasan, he said. Trust me, he said! A white kitchen that he doesn't clean!"

"What happened to 'messes are made to be messy'?" She asked with a nervous laugh, not quite aware of how she set off this trap.

"Dear, everything within reason," the Yamanaka woman tutted, still agitated about her white kitchen. "You have batter in your hair," she lamented, bringing a soft towel to Sakura's hair that was held back in a low ponytail. "It's so soft," she tenderly tucked it behind Sakura's ear after wiping it clean. "Lovely," she breathed in admiration.

"Okaasan," Inoichi appeared in the kitchen, face without color. "You should have told me there was an emergency, I would have stopped this from happening!" He stared directly at Sakura.

Three pairs of eyes rolled almost in sync.

"You're the one who told me to find new hobbies," Sakura reminded him not-so-nicely.

"Honestly, Inoichi!" Chika threw up her hands. "Keep stirring, Dear." She tapped the back of Sakura's hand. The pinkette dutifully obeyed. Wrists moving up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Itomi shook her head at him, sitting in the chair he pulled for her. Sighing in contentment as he settled her feet into a chair across from her.

"How was the walk?" Sakura asked over her shoulder.

"Long," Itomi complained, curling her fingers around the glass of water Inoichi handed her. "Thank you, Dear," she smiled at him after swallowing back some water. Her lips tugged into a frown at the no-good look on her husband's face. She clicked her tongue and sat back, arms crossed waiting for him to find trouble. It did not take long. It never did. Just like he never learned.

"So I guess salmonella is on the menu for tonight?" He asked with a grin standing behind his mother, his arms on her shoulders as she worked. "Hey!" He turned around, hand going to his ear, swiping away at the thick, gloopy dampness.

"Whoops, my hand slipped," Sakura said with flat eyes, a blank expression and copious amounts of disingenuity, holding the coated wooden spoon in her right hand. Itomi hid a snicker behind her transparent glass.

"Okaasan!" Inoichi complained. "She's wasting food!" A cardinal offense. "And making a mess!"

"I didn't see anything," the woman said with a shrug. "Is the batter for the okonomiyaki done yet, Sakura-Dear?"

"Yep!" The pinkette chirped, grinning triumphantly at the putout look on Inoichi's face. The look that questioned when he stopped being the favorite.

"Good. Come, come," Chika waved her closer. "You're making the okonomiyaki, Sakura. Let me show you how."

All thought not pertaining to making okonomiyaki left her mind as Inoichi settled into a chair, wiping batter from the side of his face all the while his wife and him spoke idly waiting for dinner to be set on the table.

---

She lifted her hands from the belly lying on the exam table. The air held their anticipation. Their hopes. Their dreams. Their fears. Their worries. Their concerns. Their excitement. There was so much swirling around the space that she felt slightly lightheaded.

"You can sit up," she told the woman.

Mebuki wasted no time in rolling down her white top. Kizashi helped her sit up. He held her hand in both of his larger ones. Green and blue eyes stared at her expectantly. Their lips were hanging open slightly but they were unable to bring themselves to ask.

Sakura wrote some notes on the file pressed against a clipboard. "We need to make some more appointments. From the initial scans, the due date should be the end of March."

March 28th if we want to be exact.

The Universe has a shit sense of humor, doesn't it?

"D-due date?" Kizashi gasped.

Sakura had exactly half a second before she found herself between her screaming parents in a bone-crushing hug that hurt in more ways than one. Neither of them noticed her too-fake smile as they fell further and further into their joy of it all. They never noticed future Sakura's, so why would they notice hers?

---

A weak groan slipped past the navy, fire-retardant cotton. The owner of the voice was sprawled on the damp grass. Every muscle and tendon screaming in his body. His dark eyes rolled up to look at shadowed jade.

"Remind me to be nicer to Heathen," Kakashi murmured darkly. "You're abusive."

"If you want to be ANBU," Loris peered down at him, nudging his shoulder with the front of her boot earning herself a pained grunt. "This is how you prepare."

"Liar!" Kakashi narrowed his eyes, too tired to do much beyond that. "If this was how you prepare there would be fewer than five ANBU operatives in total, including you." And he believed he was being generous. "You're just trying to scare me off. It won't work, Loris. I will outlast you."

That's the plan, Kaka-kun.

"Well, not all ANBU were personally trained by me," she countered, levelly. "I do have a reputation of a standard to maintain."

And the confidence that you can keep yourself alive without me - without your team.

"I can feel my pancreas." He blinked up at her, pitifully. "That's bad right?"

"You'll be fine," Loris determined rather dismissively. Yet contrary to her words, she folded her legs down to a crouch, funneling her chakra from where her fingertips brushed his shoulder and began to dull away the aches as she checked the legitimacy of his claims. She pulled her chakra after a few seconds.

"Just leave me here," he made a shooing motion with his hand, wincing at the strain. "Everything hurts and I'm dying."

She rolled her eyes at his melodrama. Obito was a very bad influence on Kakashi. Even still, it brought a small smile to her face to know that Kakashi did not develop that particular character trait of hiding his pain. Because the Kakashi that was her sensei operated with the same premise as pack mentality. Showing weakness or effect of injury was unacceptable as it reduced your value in the hierarchy. Showing such things would lead to abandonment.

"Do you need me to carry you?" She offered helpfully like she was not the reason he was in his current state.

"Don't you dare, Loris," Kakashi said in a low voice, moving to sit up but much too slowly. "Hey!" He shrieked in a very Obito-like manner. "Set me down! This instant!"

Loris jostled him on her shoulder in an act of noncompliance. "Careful, Kaka-kun, kick up enough of a fuss and you never know who might crawl out of the woodwork. Especially at this time of night." She could picture Gai bursting through the forest ready to challenge Kakashi to a foot race.

The Hakate immediately stilled. "We're so watching a horror movie the next time," he vowed, crossing his arms and still managing to look inconvenienced as Loris carried him over her shoulder across the training grounds.

"We'll see about that," she mused without a worry. "I am faster," she reminded him, adding insult to the numerous injuries.

"I'm going to beat you one day. Just you wait," a petulant huff left his throat. "Don't get too comfortable with winning."

"I would like nothing more," she smiled, eyes softening. "Ice cream?"

Kakashi sighed. "Fine," he acquiesced, going deadweight - a boneless heap - as a form of mild protest.

---

"Schedule a follow-up for Honda-san early next week. I want to make sure those lungs stay sounding clear," Sakura spoke to the nurse as she jotted down the last of her notes. She scratched at her scalp. Her hair needed to be washed. Her slightly-past-her-shoulders ponytail was ratty in every definition of the word. But she was finding it hard to find the motivation to do anything as of late. She just wanted to go back to her apartment and stuff her face with tempera with a side of extra rice that she picked up on the way home. Because it seemed like she was hitting wall after wall as of late and carbs made her feel better even if it was only for fleeting moments.

She sighed tiredly. Maybe tempura would be her reward for doing laundry and finally washing her hair.

Dango. I need Dango.

Because now that she was finally getting paid again - from both her jobs - she saw no reason to not indulge. She closed the file and tapped the counter. The nurse slipped onto the stack without so much as a glance. Sakura stared at the clock. She was already fifteen minutes over from when her shift had ended. She shrugged out of her coat and turned on her heel. It was nice that her last patient of the day was on the same floor of her office. It took less than three minutes to arrive. And from there to the night air was all but five.

Floundering. That was what it felt like she was doing. She was just going through the motions to get to the next day so that she was that much closer to the day. It was a race to the clock. But that was all she could focus on, what she could control. Because if she let her mind wander to what happened after Naruto was born, on October 11th the questions started to dredge up. Questions that did not reduce in number even after letting Minato in on the truth-adjacent.

Questions such as: will she be born to Kizashi and Mebuki? Will Inner retain her memories? What happens if she comes back as someone else? What happens if things do not play out the way they did? Would she be okay with not having Naruto and Sasuke as fixtures in her life? Would Mebuki and Kizashi do a better job of not belittling their daughter and crushing her self-esteem? Would they actually read the books she hand-picked out for them? The ones that talked about the importance of raising the child in front of them and not the one they had pictured in their heads? Would Kakashi end up going into teaching? Would Obito be Hokage? Would the Ame Orphans stay off the path of revenge and darkness, making Akatsuki actually something that was welcomed across the nations with open gates and wide smiles? Would Haru be okay? Would Haru's abilities stay hidden from the world? Would he have a chance at normality, whatever that looked like for the boy?

Would the Kazekage heed her intel passed along via Toshi to Jiraiya? Would he clean his Council before they betrayed him by ultimately killing his wife, Kurura, and permanently scarring Gaara in the process? Would Neji be spared the fate of the Bird Seal? Will the Uchiha remain safe and alive? Will Sasuke have a chance? Will Shisui and Itachi have a chance? Would Sai and his brother Shin be okay? Was Konoha really any safer without Danzo and Orochimaru? What about Kabuto? What about Black Zetsu? Would Jiraiya and Minato have to constantly look over their shoulder for him? Would Jiraiya figure out how to seal him away for good? Or would the Fourth Great War happen yet again and set the stage for Naruto and Sasuke to save the world yet again? Would they be given a choice to return to their eternal home after this was all over? Would she have to do this again? A lifetime from now? Ten lifetimes from now? Would Naruto ever be satisfied? Would Sasuke?

"Sakura-san?"

She lifted her eyes to see a vaguely familiar face. It took all but two seconds for a name to come to mind to complete the mapping.

"Oh, Uchiha-san." She dipped her head in a bow. "Hello."

"Shinnosuke, please," he chuckled.

"I'm sorry for my behavior the last time we met, Shinnosuke-san. I was far from my best," she said in a sheepish manner, pulling a dirty lock of hair behind her ear.

He laughed without jeer. "It's okay. Obito tends to have that effect on people."

Her face cracked into a smile despite herself. "Are you alright?" Her eyes moved up and down in a quick triage as he was headed in the direction of the hospital. It was in the opposite direction of where the Uchiha Clan was located.

"I'm fine," his warm smile, not too different from Obito's, placated her. She noticed he had a dimple on his right cheek. "I was just on my way back from the Police Force."

"The Police Force? Is everything okay?" Other than Loris it was common knowledge of the names of the Hokage's Inner Guard. Even with Root disbanded and more than a couple of the clan heads eyeing her with suspicion, Loris's true face remained unmasked, safely tucked under her mask. A fact that the Hokage himself supported, publicly despite the Elders grumbling loudly about it.

"Oh yes, yes," he said quickly, realizing how what he said could inspire concern. "I was just helping Fugaku out. Someone called in sick at the last minute."

"There is a nasty bug going around. Be sure to stay hydrated. Adding some vitamin C to your water should help," her tongue moved over the generic advice she rattled off over a hundred times today, without thinking. "You're quite the hard worker."

What was hard to tell visually in the monochromatic light became obvious when he spoke in a fluster. "N-no harder than anyone else."

She smiled a little at his awkwardness. Her eyes picked up the wrinkles in his clothes. It looked like he had been roughed up a little bit and she knew firsthand that Panda got a good slug in earlier during their training sessions at dawn. He had not shut up about it.

Not so special are those eyes of yours, huh Uchiha? Panda had taunted, distastefully adding insult to injury.

"You're sure you're fine?" She asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes to dial up the scrutiny.

"A little sore," he admitted in reluctance to her tone.

"I can take a look," she offered. "It would make tomorrow a little less unpleasant."

"I appreciate the offer, Sakura-san but I'm alright. I wouldn't want to be a bother," he rotated his arm as if to demonstrate, grimacing when it clicked but playing it off as smoothly as he could by closing his eyes and donning a cheeky smile. "I'll sleep like the dead tonight."

"No bother," she insisted airily. She took three steps until she was past him and looked back over her shoulder with an expression that demanded "coming?"

Shinnosuke lowered his head in defeat and followed her to a nearby bench. He sat down after she did.

"May I?" She asked as if he had a choice in the matter, eyes on the side profile of his face. He nodded his head. She rolled up his sleeve all the way up to his shoulder. "This will only take a second." She brought a glowing green hand to the joint easing away the pain. She sent more chakra into his system, healing any inflammation and discomfort she could find. Goat, Shinnosuke, was the only one who always politely declined her offers to heal them up after their sessions. Loris did not push but Sakura could. So she did. "There," she hummed in satisfaction. "How's that?" Her eyes migrated to his face.

He repeated the rotating arm gesture. His dark eyes went wide. "So smooth!" He marveled with a child-like innocence on his face. "And so fast!"

"After ten years it better be," she laughed good-naturedly.

"Obito really is an idiot," he grinned, it was lopsided. "You're not mean at all."

"Only when I want to be," Sakura kissed her teeth.

"You have to let me thank you for this."

She was quick to shake her head. "No need. I'm just doing my job." She had long stopped expecting gratitude. It was just words anyway. And those meant nothing to a liar.

"You're off the clock," he pointed out.

"No such thing," she retorted. "Mr.-ANBU-Guard-Moonlighting-for-the-Police-Force."

"Guilty," he smiled abashedly.

"Maybe you can answer a question of mine?" She tilted her head to the side, recognizing the curiosity in his dark eyes.

"Shoot," he gave her his full attention.

"Do all Uchiha," she did not miss the way he stiffened as if preparing himself for what was to come, "share your reservations?"

"Can you please clarify?" His tone grew more formal just as his words did. She could hear the guard that he pulled around himself.

Sakura leaned forward, fingers circling her wrist behind her back, tilting her chin ever so slightly. "An aversion to medics."

The tension melted off his shoulders. He brought his palm to rest on his knee. He laughed in relief and amusement. "Not at all." He peered off, looking at the moon. "Not any more than our brethren." She followed his gaze, wearing contemplation on her features.

"Could have fooled me," her eyes darted back to his face, lingering before tracking back to the crater in the sky

"Is everything alright, Sakura-san? You keep looking over at my face. Is there something on it?" He began to rub his cheeks, the corner of his thin lips. "I had some barbeque earlier and that does get messy," he murmured to himself, fishing through his pockets for a napkin. Shinnosuke had no tact. She was beginning to see the resemblance to his cousin who they both agreed was an idiot. An adorable idiot but an idiot all the same.

"No. No. Nothing like that." She felt her face flush at being caught. She giggled, stupidly, airheadedly. "I was thinking about a program I wanted to bring to the hospital admin for funding. To do research and find solutions that surround the ailments of the various Kekkei Genkai of Konoha."

"The blindness caused by overuse of the Sharingan." Everything about him became harder to read just seconds after he spoke, his search abandoned, reprioritized.

"Yes," she nodded her head. "That is just a theory of course. I've heard rumors of even children suffering from it, some even as young as ten, which leads me to wonder if there is a different cause. Or another cause. Something that is less discriminatory." Sakura sighed. Inbreeding, despite all of Anko's jokes, was a very real problem. The lack of genetic variation going back to the history of the clan was becoming something that would be harder and harder to ignore. They needed to get ahead of this before one child in five born into the clan came into the world blind. She had projections that might just be the case in as short as four generations from now. The Uchiha needed to let go and trust the hospital long before that day came.

"I'm just struggling with how to bring this to the admin's desk and subsequently in front of the Hokage without it sounding like it's data-collectiony."

"It does appear that way," he leaned back on the bench, posture still far from relaxed.

"I suppose it does," she shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know why I even brought it up."

"You're a healer," Shinnosuke pointed out with a small smile. "Your instincts are to help. You see a problem and you want to identify it, you want to triage it, you want to address it."

She smiled into the ground. "I guess that reason makes as much sense as any." She blew air from her lips. "Truth be told, I'm on probation," she ground her heel into the dirt. Turning gravel into dust.

"I see," he cleared his throat to dispel the awkward air that had lodged itself in there.

"So it's not all purely altruistic, I can assure you. I was hoping to help others while helping myself, within the rules you see. To get some pressure off my back." She laughed wryly. "Politics. They're in everything, even the hospital. My own personal opinions aside about politics and medicine mixing, I understand the hesitation clans have and why they do not allow outside resources to provide assistance on such matters. It's all pretty-"

"Complicated," he nodded his head solemnly. "Politics," he made a face. "I do not envy the Hokage one bit."

"That makes two of us," she giggled into her hand. "All day glued behind a desk with everyone's problems on your shoulders," she finished with a sigh and shake of her head.

"So I take it there is no bad blood between you and the powers to be whose face is on the monument?" Shinnosuke asked nonchalantly, hand twitching slightly as he came to circle his wrist, leaning slightly forward.

"Kami, no," she shook her head. "The job sounds downright terrible." She raked her teeth along her bottom lip. "And I would stick out like a sore thumb up there with all that distinguishment."

Shinnosuke chuckled warmly. "It is. He's aging twice as fast since taking office. But don't tell him I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me," she laughed into her hand, shaking her head.

Hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Naruto.

Maybe he would not follow this path. Maybe he would have no reason to. He would be born into a home with no shortage of love. He would not need to look for validation or acknowledgment from strangers. Or even more heartbreakingly acceptance - belonging. He would have all that. So maybe his face would never go onto the rock next to his father's. And maybe that was okay.

"So what did you do?" He asked with a forwardness that perhaps surprised even him.

She made a face, but not one of remorse. "I disobeyed a direct command from my boss."

He let out a low whistle. "That will do it."

"And…," she kissed her teeth. "May have threatened him and everyone else with bodily harm if they got in my way." She chanced a glance in his direction. His jaw was hanging open. "Yeah," she tucked her chin closer to her chest in compensation. "I know," she murmured.

"And you got off with just probation?" He asked, gobsmacked. "I couldn't even imagine opening my mouth to question my boss."

"Hokage-sama isn't all that bad." She winced, pulling a string from her shirt causing a run to form. She should have just left it well enough alone. "I might have lumped him in with the everyone I mentioned earlier. Not my proudest moment."

Shinnosuke lost all color in his pale complexion's silvery glow with the light of the moon. "Damn. Now I see why you're desperate."

She laughed, offended but also amused. "You could say that again."

"Would you do it again?" He pried not completely unwelcomingly, tone shifting a hair more serious.

Sakura sighed, back curving as she slumped. "The way I would go about it might vary but the end result would be the same," she shook her head. "Yes. I would do it again. I would."

Shinnosuke regarded her for a moment before he slapped his thighs and stood up with a grunt. He held out a hand. She blinked owlishly at the offending appendage, not sure what to make of it.

"So about that thank you I owe you…," he smiled disarmingly.

She frowned. "We talked about that."

"Yes, but a decision was not reached," his eyes twinkled. "Should we continue with the deliberations?"

"I would not be opposed to a stick of dango. One." She held up her index finger to stress the extent of it.

"Excellent." He looked at her expectantly. "Shall we?"

Her lips tugged into a smile as she slipped her hand into his. It was surprisingly warm given the cold they had been surrounded by. He pulled her to her feet, his grip sturdy and firm.

xXx

"You mentioned helping Fugaku-san earlier," Sakura paused to finish chewing the pink dango ball. She covered her mouth with her hand. "Are the two of you close?"

"We grew up together," he brought his hot tea to his lips for a couple of sips. They sat at a respectable distance on a small concrete retaining wall not too far from the stall that was open until late, under the light of the street lamp. The hard shells of the flying bumbling buzz-bombing beetles clicked as they collided over and over with the plastic cover of the lamp. "It's the natural byproduct of growing up in a clan. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone is a cousin."

Yeah no kidding with all the inbreeding. Long live pure blood.

"Must have been quite the experience," she mused lightly.

"It was challenging at times but I wouldn't trade it for the world," he polished off his dango stick.

Sakura chewed slowly on hers. "As an outsider, I think that was the hardest thing for me to understand. That sense of belonging and just understanding with all these people that kind of look like you and were raised like you, with the same values. It was different, a good different. Having a sense of community is really important, especially for a child."

"I never really thought about it, but yeah, I suppose you're right." His expression became thoughtful as he did more than just lip service to the sentiment. "It was always just the way, you know? There was no other option. But looking back, being a part of a clan made things easier. Certain things. And it made certain things harder, like trying to be your own person and carve your own path. Any thought or idea that you had that strayed from the norm would be attacked, challenged, and ridiculed until you either accepted what was status-quo or you broke from the unit."

The manner in which he spoke, gave her the impression that he was thinking out loud. She ceased to exist as he worked through his thoughts. An introspection happening right in front of her brought on by her statement that she did not think much of.

"There are always trade-offs, I suppose," he concluded with a cold sigh. She watched as his breath joined the crisp air of the night, becoming swallowed by the masses. Indistinguishable to the naked eye of what came from him and what was there before.

She straightened when she felt the full focus of his gaze on her. Her breath hitched because for a second she could have sworn she saw his eyes flash red. But she did not trust that it happened at all.

"Ramen?" He asked and to which her eyes widened. "Usually I would never take a first date to ramen but I think at this hour our options are severely limited. And if we count the dango as our first date, it's not too bad of a look for me," he grinned and for the first time she felt her stomach flutter not out of worry or concern but something else altogether. "My type isn't mean girls at all, by the way," he said smoothly to her continued silence.

"I'm not really the dating type," she bit down on her empty skewer hard enough to taste splinters.

"Then what type are you, Sakura-san?"

"The type to avoid," she laughed, humorlessly as her life felt like one big, long-winded, unfunny joke that never reached its punchline. "You mustn't get out much, Uchiha-san."

"Last name, ouch," he winced at the formality. "But you're not wrong."

"Avoiding me will help you avoid drama with your clan, Uchiha-san. I'm just looking out for your best interest here," she sighed as she looked at her lukewarm tea. "I'm sorry if I sent mixed signals."

"Sakura-san," he seemed to catch himself from saying what he was thinking because the seriousness he wore seemed to fade away into a warmth that surrounded him. "Friends then?"

"Being someone's friend is a lot of responsibility. One that shouldn't be taken lightly." She would not make the same mistakes over and over again. Not when her expiration date loomed closer. It was not personal. She did not have much to offer, anyway. She was at capacity. "I'd have to think about it," she rose to her feet, pulling her trash with her. "Thank you for the dango and the tea. If you have any other lingering aches and pains, my office is on the third floor." She pointed vaguely in the direction of the hospital. "Feel free to stop by on Wednesday evenings."

"I'll have to think about it," he chuckled, throwing back a rendition of her own words to her without malice. "And no thank you needed for the thank you. Have a good rest of your night."

"You too, Uchiha-san." She waved at him until she was nothing more than a memory.

---

She was exhausted and for good reason. She had been on the balls of her feet in a constant state of heightened anxiety. Watching, watching, listening, smelling everything in her vicinity for the first signs of trouble. She was hyper-vigilant and even with all that she had still managed to burn it. But it was salvageable though. She was able to scrape off the burnt parts and it did not look all too bad.

"I think that's it," she nodded her head once in a sure manner. She had not missed a single step from what she remembered Chika showing her.

There was a loud splat behind her, causing her to turn around with wide eyes and her jaw slack. A thick red slop. Attempt number one of the sauce she was making finally came down from the ceiling. She sighed, nearly deflating like a balloon that had a puncture hole in it. Her hands were already moving to position. She did not have much time before they came back and the kitchen…looked worse than the inside of an army medical tent in the middle of a battlezone.

She had her work cut out of her.

At least I have a starting point.

When did you become an optimist?

xXx

"So, how was your mission?" Loris asked brightly. "Tell me everything."

"You made this? Unsupervised?" Kakashi poked at his chicken with the end of his chopstick with a pensive expression. He half expected it to cluck back at him or wander off his plate when he was not looking, hence his vigilance.

"Good," Rin answered Loris's question slowly, ignoring Kakashi's pointed and rather rude questions. She too eyed the meal reproachfully but she had enough manners to be subtle with her reservations.

"I'm going in," Obito inhaled deeply, pulling up his sleeves. He finally decided enough was enough because the food was getting cold and his hunger was growing.

"Idiot," Anko whispered not too quietly, eyes moving from his plate to his face - rapidly.

Loris leaned forward in her chair. Rin and Kakashi subconsciously were doing the same. Anko watched him with morbid fascination, not-so-secretly hoping he would turn purple and fall over in his chair like a carelessly balanced sack of potatoes. They held their breaths as he gathered a piece of chicken between his chopsticks. He chewed noisily before swallowing.

"Well?" Loris asked, breathless, stomach swarming.

"It's not bad," Obito declared. "A little dry. But edible."

"Good enough for me!" She had a stomach of steel. She was immunized against all kinds of stuff after all. So how bad could it really be? Anko tore off a piece with her teeth. "Hey! This is pretty good," she said with a mouth full of partially chewed food.

"Really?" Loris felt her excitement rise, eyes moving from their two faces not sure who to settle on.

"You eat anything," Kakashi retorted, bringing her back down harshly. He picked up his chopsticks, encouraged by the fact that both Obito and Anko had not keeled over dead yet. He chewed. Slowly. Painfully slowly. "Well, it's not the worst chicken I've had."

"I'll take it," Loris beamed behind her mask.

"I'm more surprised that the house wasn't burnt down," Kakashi admitted without shame or regard for her feelings. His place was bigger and he had actual spices. So she used her spare key - as a courtesy because a lock would not stop her - to let herself in. "So all-in-all not bad."

"Kakashi-kun," Rin admonished him, with exhaustion. Six days in the woods with her team was five days too many. "You could have quit while you were ahead."

"Honesty should be valued," Kakashi maintained his principles. Also, he was still more than a little sore from the constant humbling he received in his ANBU training sessions. So he was more than willing to jump at the chance to do the same in reverse.

"Don't mind him, Loris. Chicken is a really hard protein to get right. It's so easy to overcook," the medic consoled her with a cheerful chirp.

"I didn't know," Loris admitted with a chuckle. "It was just the cheapest protein. In case I had to throw everything out and start over." Which thankfully she did not.

"The veggies are really good! They're seasoned and cooked perfectly." Rin's face lit up as she continued to pile on the praise. "Thank you for going through all this trouble for us, Loris."

"Yeah, thanks Loris," Obito smiled at her. "A warm meal and a super fast check-up, you're the best."

"Of course she is!" Anko huffed. "She's my sensei. I don't just go around listening to mediocre, I'll have you know," she puffed out her chest in pride.

"Loris saved you from yourself, Heathen," Kakashi deadpanned. "So calm down there when taking credit."

So much for being nicer to Anko-chan, eh Kaka-kun?

"Don't tell me to calm down, dog-boy!" She snapped, ready to be very un-calm as she punched him in the nose.

"Not an Inuzuka," Kakashi yawned rudely in her face, ignoring the signs of danger.

"Could have fooled me. You smell like one." She crinkled her nose to drive her point home.

Rin began to giggle. She tried to hide it at first but it was a losing battle. Kakashi glared at her.

"Just let it go and eat this good food, guys," Obito, the voice of reason, offered. Nearly done with his plate already, eyeing seconds that sat on the stove.

Loris's cheeks heated at the culmination of the sentiment behind their words. She brought some chicken to her lips and chewed, being the first to take up Obito's suggestion.

"Kami," Obito uttered in a frustrated groan. "I can't even see through it with my Sharingan."

"You know the definition of insanity, right?" Rin asked him with an exasperated expression. "Put those things away before you scare off Loris."

"Nah," Obito grinned from ear to ear, chewing with his mouth open. "She's stuck with us."

"Funny," Kakashi scoffed. "And here I thought we all were stuck with you."

Anko cackled.

"Don't laugh so hard, Heathen. The same goes for you," the Hatake smirked at Anko's scowl.

Rin let out a long-suffering groan. "I should have just let that kunai knick your artery, Kakashi." Regret colored every single word uttered.

Loris smiled as she continued to munch away on the first meal she ever cooked. All-in-all she thought it was a resounding success.

---

The bouquet of fraudulent flowers was heavy in her arms. Reminding her just how out of place both it and she was. Her eyes read the tombstone of a name that she had written on a piece of paper. Unlike the lie she told to Ami's face, this name on the grave truly meant nothing to her. A natural progression in things. Splitting him down the middle. Separating the man from the mask. She held onto one while letting go of the other. He had been wiped cleanly. So cleanly that it took her twenty minutes to find him. Because that was the only other thing written on the paper. An instruction.

Leave white lilies on his grave.

She saw movement in the corner of her eye. She did not lift her eyes from the marker as a pair of feet settled next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss," his voice was solemn and full of genuine remorse.

"He was someone's loss," Sakura felt compelled to say. She could feel the surprise in his gaze. "He meant something, everything, to someone; maybe even to a lot of someones."

"No one is truly alone in this world," Shinnosuke sighed, his dark eyes on the marker of someone's final resting place. "Yamanaka Kai, he was more than a few years older than our year."

It was strange. She did not remember Shinnosuke being in their academy class. But apparently, he remembered her. She blamed the pink hair and her Minato-goggles that obstructed her ability to see anyone else even after he had graduated early.

Sakura tilted her head. "Are you coming or going?"

"Coming," he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Empty-handed?" She finally looked at him.

"She won't mind," he patted the back of his head, cupping his head around his half-bun. He sighed. "I'm visiting my sister."

"I'm sorry," Sakura's lips pulled down into an expression of sympathy. "For your loss."

"She died of leukemia. She was just eight years old." His voice was tight from the concentration and will it took to retain his composure. "I was ten."

"Some world." A world in which disease could still kill children on top of everything else. She reached into her bouquet. She separated one white flower from the bunch. She held out the rest of the bouquet for him. "For your sister."

"Are you sure?" He asked, taken aback.

She merely nodded, not drawing any further attention to her act.

He slowly reached for the white lilies, fingers resting above hers on the long stems. They stood in silence of shared understanding.

---

She felt the acceleration generated by the sphere of chakra in his hand down every single bone in her spine. The way her blood hummed from the exhilaration of it all was the reason behind the large smile she wore. She twisted her body avoiding the brunt of the forward movement. Her leg darted out and back with every intention of hitting him with the roundhouse kick. Her foot was encased in blue. He flashed away just like she knew he would. Sakura planted her heel that was airborne and shot after him. Searching for his chakra signature with a level of recognition that rivaled her own.

Steel sharpened steel. Black Zetsu had to exist. The threat of the possible Uchiha was still out there. The rogues who wanted to destabilize regimes were definitely out there. So neither of them could afford to get comfortable - complacent. So they trained. Every day, like clockwork. And not just for the sake of appearances. It was only when she was being sharpened, that things felt almost normal - natural - between them again. The strange barrier of separation that she had not yet identified - because there was a chance it was all in her head either before or now - no longer existed or temporarily became permeable allowing the illusion of normality to slip through. Because it was when they ducked, exchanged blows, weaved, and flickered that there was no room for misunderstandings to cling to them. They were completely in the moment. And that moment was pure bliss. It just made sense. They made sense.

She felt the most alive.

She found him amongst the dry crusty earth. Because he, too, liked to remind her that he was more than capable of using her second chakra nature. A display - with just the right amount of class - that nothing was out of reach for him. It was further illustrated when he brought a green hand to his collarbone. She had grazed him with her chakra. Minato grimaced; a sharp inhale of air in the form of a hiss. He lowered his hand to his side instantly realizing he was out of his depths.

"I broke it three places," Sakura smirked. She heard each distinctive pop; each one more thrilling than the last. "I have to say I appreciate the confidence you have in your abilities, and while you have gotten better than from when you tried to heal your arm, you better leave it to the professionals if you want to avoid being uncomfortable every time you try to move." She closed the gap by the time she finished taunting him. She held out her hand, a whole six inches away from him, and focused. The pain dulled to an ache and the ache melted into warmth. In a matter of thirty seconds.

"Show off," the corner of his lips pulled upward in a smirk. His eyes still held the high from their spar but it was beginning to wane and with it, the barrier would once again solidify. Their mutual understanding would dissolve.

"Just trying to keep up." Despite her light tone she was frowning under the mask. "You were slow." He should have reacted after the first break and moved out of her range. He had time. He was Konoha's Yellow Flash for crying out loud. She moved half a step closer to do a proper assessment but he held up his hand, stopping her.

"I'm fine," he raked a hand through his hair. "Just not much sleep last night is all."

Oh.

She turned her head away, regretting saying anything at all.

"Kushina is having trouble getting and staying comfortable," he elaborated with a slightly awkward air as he put two and two together: his words and her reaction. "She runs hot already and with the extra everything and the summer months…," he trailed off before it could be misconstrued that he was rambling.

"I can teach you a jutsu that will help cool her down," Sakura offered without thinking. "It will also help her sleep." It was the same jutsu she used to manipulate her heart rate. The same one that convinced everyone that Haru was dead. "You can practice it on yourself until you're comfortable enough to use it. Or there's this oil that I prepared for Itomi-san. She says it helped her with the same. Maybe you can find a shop that sells something equivalent to it?"

"Sure," he agreed with a tone that he did not really mean.

"Goat," she scratched the side of her neck, pulling her collar away for a moment of respite, "can Hiraishin by himself. His limit is three."

The awkwardness dissipated the moment the conversation entered a territory that was deemed safe: work-related.

"That's good. That's really good," he closed his eyes and was slow to open them. "I appreciate all the extra time and work you put in to get him there. Between appointments and meetings, there's just not a lot of time for much."

"He's the one who put in the effort," she said dismissively. "Just doing my job," she added as an afterthought. Had she been looking in his direction, she would have noticed the way his shoulders tensed, the minute change in him at her words. She plucked a kunai from the ground, turning it in her hands slowly. "Mind if I hang onto this?" She asked with a head tilt, holding it out for him to see, slowly waving it back and forth for good measure. "Just to test a theory."

"It wouldn't happen to be the theory of leveraging the formula to do more than just summon, would it?" He cocked a blond brow. "And sure."

"That's the one," she hummed in agreement, tucking the kunai into her hip pouch. "Should be doable with a few tweaks."

"In order to gain something, you may have to lose something," he said cryptically.

"It depends on use cases," Sakura blinked away at the black characters swimming in her vision; the math equations in her head. His seal, his formula, extended beyond death. While that was impressive, it was not needed. Not for what she was thinking of. She had a long night ahead of her. "Sometimes it's okay to give up one thing in favor of getting the other." Sometimes the trade-off was worth it.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" His voice grew softer, influenced by her words. The hesitation was palpable. He was a participant in a very different conversation.

"Who?" Pink brows knitted together under her mask, in the mark of confusion.

"Shimura," Minato's tone did not change but the lack of an honorific after the man's name spoke volumes. It disappeared around the same time he lost trust in her. "Orochimaru-sama."

"It's not for the reason you're thinking." She sighed and looked down at her gloved hands. Her hands were drenched in blood that only she could see, smell, and feel. Her skin nearly crawled and memories pushed to the surface. "You needed plausible deniability with the Council." She gripped the top of her armor, resting her hands there where she did not have to see them. "You needed to keep your hands clean."

"A clean desk," he said to the ground, eyes darkening at the knowledge he held in his head. A young face framed with pink hair and bright green eyes humming as her small, soft hands twisted flowers for a garland she was so excited about abruptly flashed in his mind. She smiled at him.

Minato-kun. She called out to him, waving. Her pink lashes closed over her eyes as she smiled from ear to ear beckoning him to come closer, to help her. Minato scoffed quietly, with bitterness, blinking his own eyes open that he did not even know he closed - closed to make the image in his head more vivid, more immersive. As close to real as he could; as circumstances allowed for.

Let me take care of you. I won't let anything happen to you. He had actually said those words to her face. They were a little too little and a little too late. He said them to her after something horrible had already happened to her. He never could help her. He had never been able to help her. Not in a way that truly mattered. And those facts were what had his throat tightening on him, slowly in a prolonged punishment.

"Hm." She was the one to break the tense silence. The same one that hung over them all these months. "I have some ideas," because she was stubborn to a fault and not one to give up so easily when it was important to her. And nothing was more important than this. "About the other seal. If that's okay."

"Sure," he settled back against the bark of the large elm, hands crossed over his chest and his head slightly bowed, chin tucked in. Straddling two worlds. Neither here nor there.

She tried not to reach too much into his body language. It was not looking like a great start for her. But he was willing to listen so she focused on that.

"Can't Uzumaki-sama give birth on Mount Myōboku? It's a controlled environment. We already know the seal will hold up as long it is not tampered with. You kept it contained the last time. There's no reason to believe you won't be able to do the same. Jiraiya-sama could help you too. No one else would be able to follow you. And you can come back when Uzumaki-sama and the baby are up to travel. I can summon you back."

She presented her case as objectively as she could. Logic. Logic appealed to him. He was a cerebral person. He was an introspective person. There was no doubt in her mind that he analyzed everything she had told him from every angle. And that was how she justified it to herself; him knowing, was a good thing. He could come up with a strategy that would lead to a different outcome.

"It's overkill," he sighed after a few moments of contemplation. She had a suspicion it was for show. To not hurt her feelings by shooting it down immediately like he had her internal seal idea. "She doesn't need to go there. We are being careful and taking precautions."

"We still don't know who they are." Despite her intentions and multiple rehearsals, she felt her dissatisfaction string together her words.

"It's fine," his tone was placating - almost patronizing - and that caused the simmering of her blood to heat up. Coloring her skin with hues of pink that would darken to red if something did not change. "We know what didn't work. We are in a better position than we were then."

Her silence was her condemnation of that sentiment. She vehemently disagreed and the air around her was a testament to that very disagreement.

"It's important for our," he caught himself, "my son," he corrected. A son they had just settled on the name not too long ago. A name he did not know if the boy would share with the one from Sakura's past. She never said his name and he never asked. "It's important for Kushina and me that our son, Naruto, is born in Konoha."

She held her tongue because it was ready to call him a sentimental fool and that would help no one and nothing. It did not matter where Naruto was born as long as they all came back together. Kushina was every bit of a Konoha kunoichi as anyone born here. She had a greater burden and sacrifice than anyone.

Than most. Inner corrected her, like always.

She knew her limits. Maybe, maybe she could have convinced Minato eventually but no one was going to convince Kushina if she had her heart set on birthing her son in Konoha. Sakura knew she could not count on a begrudgingly agreeing Minato such a task.

"What if Uzumaki-sama gets a C-section?" She had really wanted to avoid going down this path. But they left her with few other options. The look on his face had her insides twisting but she forced herself to keep going. "The seal is weakening during pregnancy every day," she started with the facts before everything could be too charged with emotions from the two of them. A foundation of sorts. "With the nadir of that weakness being labor. That is when not only Uzumaki-sama is at her most vulnerable but also the seal. The last time, that was the exploited weak point. What if we take that away completely?"

She did not give him time to formulate a response. She needed to continue to throw more logic at him until he could not move out from under it. An all-out barrage.

"If Uzumaki-sama gets a C-section, labor gets removed from the equation entirely. The stress and trauma her body would have undergone will not impact the seal anymore. No rapid decay. No issues."

"No."

"I understand that C-sections aren't ideal in most cases and should be avoided when they can. But this isn't a standard case. If we can save two weeks or even a week of the seal being weakened by performing the procedure on the first day of October, it's better for Uzumaki-sama and Naruto." Her tone was dangerously close to pleading, her initial strategy was failing her so she abandoned it. "We need to focus on what we can control. We can control this."

"Biwako-sama is more than capable of performing the procedure. Twenty minutes is all it will take. I can prepare a sedative for the Kyuubi. I can even work with Biwako-sama if that will give you peace of mind. The Kyuubi won't even know so he'll be a non-factor and it's completely safe for both Kushina-sama and Naruto. I have something in the works right now. I can run more tests and get you projections. I'll just need a couple of blood samples from Uzumaki-sama. Biwako-sama can collect them as part of her regular checkups. The risk involved is much smaller than the alternative. Minutes, not hours, will be the risk window. You'll have to use up less chakra to stabilize the seal. Uzumaki-sama will be under anesthetic. She won't feel pain. It's the best possible scenario we have as of now."

"No." His teeth pressed together tightly, his jaw clenched. "We're done talking about this."

No! No, we are not!

"Why are you being like this?!" She snapped. "Why do you keep shooting everything down?!" Her anger was getting the better of her. She knew deep down somewhere that she had already lost. There was no changing his mind but she did not care. She would go down swinging, fighting. "Do you not trust me?" She demanded him to put into words what his actions spoke to in the past few months. "Is that it?" She goaded him to agree, to eliminate all doubt regarding the matter. Because living in limbo was killing her slowly.

"It's not that. You know it's not that," he glared over her shoulder, not meeting her anywhere close to her eyes.

"Then what is it?" She laughed to keep from shouting. "Then what is it?" Her voice strained from the emotions it carried. "You said you trusted me…so trust me," she said softly, unable to demand that from him. All she could do was ask. Beg. Because if these were truly her last few months, she did not want him to deny her peace. She was not above begging for her peace.

He bit down on his tongue, nearly hard enough to taste blood.

Minato-kun! Genin Sakura smiled at him with her hands behind her back in a pose that he associated with her. The very one that made her even more adorable in his adolescent eyes. So innocent. She did not know what awaited her, what would become of her life. She did not know all the horrible things that would be asked of her - demanded of her.

"Use me, damn it!" She snarled at his unacceptable silence. It was so condescending. "I'm here! Mito-sama didn't have someone like me around. But Uzumaki-sama does. Use my brain. Use my skills. Use my expertise!" She was shaking. She exhaled. It was broken up by her anger. "I don't know how to make it any simpler for you to understand! Use me!"

"Just like Naruto did?" He broke his silence in the face of her outburst, rage encased by tempered steel. His voice never rose an octave but his aggression was translated. Crystal. Clear.

"What?" She blinked at him behind her mask utterly bewildered.

"Just like Shimura? Just like the Sandaime? Just like everyone else?" He asked in the same cadence and manner as his question before. And just like before, all she could do was blink and mouth the word, the question: what? "You want me to use you like everyone else?" Minato demanded in an icy tone that overwhelmed some of her heat. Her confusion damped the rest of it.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Honesty peaked through in her question. She was too caught off guard to filter anything.

"It has to do with everything," he countered, steady to her unsteady; composed to her unraveling. He was everything she was not. He was everything she could never be. "It is because of my son, my selfish, selfish son you're here is it not?"

The boy and man he resented. Even though he had no right to. Because he was not around to raise him. He was not around to raise his own son. No one raised him. That Minato failed that Naruto and that Naruto failed this Sakura. The one that was in front of him so broken and in pain. The one who was forced to choose this life because of the obligation she felt to honor his son's last wishes. His son did that. His son made his friend a pawn for his happiness. He sacrificed her for his own selfish desires.

Naruto. Did. That.

His. Son. Did. That.

"He's not selfish," she mumbled shakily. "He's one of the children of the prophecy. He brought peace to the whole world. You were right!" Her voice caught but she managed to hold it together just enough to make it to the end. "You believed he would be and you were right. That's why you named him Naruto. That's why-"

"So the future me was just as delusional as Naruto," he surmised harshly. Just how egotistical was this Minato of her time? To think that his own son, his own flesh and blood would be the one to finally deliver them from war. To bring peace to them all. Was he really that full of himself? This future Minato, the current him did not have a positive opinion of him. It did not matter that Sakura claimed he was right. An idea of that proportion, that steadfast belief that he had held was beyond him now. It was hard to picture such a future. It was hard to picture anything beyond one thing.

That version of him was even more ignorant and detached from the ugly truths of the world than he was. And for that, future Naruto suffered the stigma of being the Jinchuriki because he believed the village would see him as a hero. He probably never even considered an alternative. Why would he? The village was nothing but kind to him. The village was wonderful to him. And they were good to Kushina too. Kind. Once he accepted her as his. Once he made a commitment to her. Once he accepted the duty of being her husband, taking on responsibility for her well-being and happiness. They showed her just as much reverence as they showed him. Namikaze-sama and Uzumaki-sama. Sama. They added that honorific to their names. And he believed them. He believed their hearts to match the expressions they wore on their faces in the light of day when they greeted them. He only saw the masks they put on. He did not see the darkness of their hearts or the ugly faces underneath the layers of facade. This Minato had to look no further than how they treated Sakura. A girl, a woman, who gave up everything for this village.

She's dead….She died a long time ago. Her words from years ago haunted him.

To thank her, they gifted her with a label - a name - a title: the village harlot. A whore. They spurned and shunned her for something that was less than, something to be ridiculed and judged. They whispered behind her back, spreading vitriol and poison all while feeling better about themselves. And he let them. Condemned for the choices she was forced to make. All so they could retire to their beds at night without having to worry about Iwa slaughtering them while they slept. They called her whore. Yet they would be the first to scream, to plead, to tell her it is her duty to give everything - including her body - for the sake of the village. The hypocrisy was missed by them. How high and mighty they were. How righteous. To label her such a thing. How decent they all were. Including him. He was no better than his son - the son she died for. Twice. The son she sacrificed two lives for. The son who used her to stay alive, to fix the mistakes that his father made. He and his son were no different. Minato might even be worse. He was raised by a kind, empathetic, gentle woman. His okaasan would be disgusted.

"I-I," she was at a loss for words at his statement. "Hokage-sama," she implored him to understand her perspective, her circumstance with a degree of separation in how she addressed him.

"Kushina is terrified of childbirth, the only thing she ever admitted to being scared of. She hates every minute of being pregnant. She calls it hell. She finds nothing about it magical."

Why are you telling me all this? She could only ask in her head because her voice - her body - was not cooperating. There was no hope of it.

"If you wanted me to use you, why not sooner? Earlier? Why not offer yourself sooner? Why stop at using your mind? Why draw that arbitrary line when your sole purpose is to be used? Why not offer yourself in your entirety? Why shouldn't I use your body too? So that we could have had you carry our child? I'm sure a medic of your caliber could have figured out a way to do that. You could have been our surrogate. Then there would be no risk of the seal breaking right? We would have avoided all of this in the first place."

She snapped her mouth closed so quickly that her teeth rattled, involuntarily. The need to clench her jaw so tight superseded everything.

"That's what you're here for right? To be used?" He was close enough that she could feel his breath on her eyes through her mask. "By my family? By my son? By my wife? By me?"

"Stop," she held up her hands to cover her ears.

"Should I have put it into a mission scroll, Sakura? Should I have ordered it? Is that all it would have taken for you to give in to my demands? Did it need to be put into text for you to answer each and every one of my needs? Is that all that I was missing?"

She shook her head. His low, low, low voice still made it through the loud of her head through the barrier of her hands that blocked her ears. It was as if he were right inside of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"That was my mistake," his voice was directly in front of her now. Feet pointed at her. Barely centimeters separated them now. "I should have made it official. I should have made it clear what was needed of you. What was expected of you. How I needed you. You're here to fix my mistakes. To undo the damage done by my decisions. To erase the burden I placed on my son by carrying it yourself. To honor my son's selfish, selfish wish. Because he grew up to be a selfish man - just like his father - driven by his selfish desires for an image of a life in his head that nothing and no one would stand in his way of obtaining no matter how suffered and who had to pay the pri-"

A loud slap echoed. The birds cleared the trees.

"I said stop," Sakura felt the tears slowly track down her cheeks. Her gloved hand stung. She could see the red imprint on his face. "Just stop."

"He's the reason you had to go through all this, Sakura," Minato said softly. There were tears collecting in his eyes. From either the pain of her blow or something else that she did not allow herself to consider. "I'm the reason you suffered." He lowered his eyes and stretched his jaw to accommodate forming the words he had to say. "I'm the reason you're suffering. This is all my fault."

She pulled him down by the collar until they were at eye level. "You're so full of shit," she said harshly, voice breaking. "So full of shit." She inhaled shakily. "N-Naruto," she let out a pained breath, nearly falling apart then and there. "Naruto is the reason I'm alive." She glared at him through jade eyes compromised by a border of red. "Naruto is the only reason I live. And if you call him selfish ever again, I will break you in half." Lengthwise. Right down his spine. So he would feel it. The agony she felt in this moment. The agony he caused her. She let go of his vest with a rough shove.

"Naruto and Kushina…and this village," he continued to speak even though she knew it was physically painful. A bruise was already developing on the left side of his face. "Are my responsibility. It's my job to protect them."

She shook her head, the shaking did not stop when she wanted it to. The tremor moved down her body, vibrating and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The weight of her own head was too much for her neck to support, it bent down; chin almost grazing her sternum.

"You lied to me," he kept his hands contained to his sides, unable to stabilize the convulsions that rocked the ANBU. "You lied to me," he let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and groan. "If I knew the truth, I never would have," he stopped himself in time or perhaps not soon enough. Because with one utterance, with one poorly thought-out partial sentence he simultaneously said too much and not enough. It, like him, was caught in between. Stuck.

He stopped himself in time, just as she stopped him, herself. What he did not say with his words, she read - she understood - from his eyes. And she responded in the only way she knew how - a split second after he had. His teeth rattled as her palm struck his face again. Hot. Angry. Sudden. Violent. Vindictive. The other cheek this time. He did not lift his head from where her blow had set it.

He really was so full of shit. He could heal his own damn face. She left before she could follow through on her threat.

xXx

She ripped off her mask from her face, - the rhombus seal hidden away under the war paint - reaching for the cloak around her neck with the other. Sakura threw them into some corner of her room with complete and total disregard for where they landed. Her hood was yanked from her head next. It too suffered a similar fate. Her hip pouches plopped on the laminate. Somehow managing to not open and scatter what they contained everywhere. Members of her uniform paid the price for their loyalty.

"I gave him everything!" She screamed. Eyes wild in their anger as she paced. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Frantic. "I devoted everything to him and his family. Every single one of my breaths!" She spun around on her heel. Fingers moved to the bun at the back of her head. She pulled at the black hair tie, roughly; ripping pink strands with the root follicle still attached in her jerky movements. The black band slid down to her wrist. Sakura yanked off a glove with her canine tooth. She repeated. Black nylon fell to the floor. Her angrily fingers wove in her hair, displacing black pins. They clinked and clattered. The sound of metal rain through hot ragged puffs of thunder.

"Everything!" Her voice tested the limits of her sound suppressing seal. So far it held from the lack of pounding from her downstairs neighbors as well as the one she shared a wall with. "And he has the audacity to say that to my face?!" She pulled at her hair; so much anger and with nowhere to put it. She could not hold it in so the air of her home was where it went, for her to breathe back in and keep the embers burning. Her breastplate landed with a thud. She bent down to unzip her boots, kicking them off too. One bounced off of the wall. Leaving a sizable dent.

"How dare he?" She demanded to know. She needed to know. "I never should have told him!" Her trembling hand pressed against her forehead. "Why did I tell him anything? Why did I think I could count on him? Why did he say those things?" She bit her lip to keep a whimper from escaping. She only had room for one emotion: anger. And all its variations: outrage, indignation, self-righteousness, rage, wrath, and exasperation. "What more does he want from me?! What more can I possibly give him?"

You.

Sakura froze. Her arms which were suspended in the air, locked in place.

You, Sakura. He wanted you. He would have chosen you. He wanted to choose you.

She laughed. An uncomfortable laugh that was born out of denial. A knee-jerk reaction that did not have to be thought about.

You can't honestly blame him for being the way he is, for saying those things.

"The hell I can't!"

Sakura. Inner's tone barely contains her own exasperation. He learned not too long ago that you lied to him. A lie that changed the course of his future.

"That's bullshit," Sakura countered vehemently. "We knew that this is what was supposed to happen. They were always going to end up together. So what if I lied it was for the bigger-"

Now who's the one spouting bullshit?

"I don't understand." She halted all movements, blinking at nothing.

There is no such thing as what was supposed to happen. At least not from his perspective, Sakura. You made it happen. You made the choice for him. You didn't get between Kushina and Minato. You put Kushina between you and Minato. You put her there and because of you, he kept her there.

"I-I had to," she asked, flabbergasted.

Yes. You felt you had to and so you did. But you can't honestly be surprised that he's not okay with learning he couldn't have his first choice, the life he wanted because of his own son. You can't pretend to be indifferent to how betrayed and conflicted he must feel.

"No," she shook her head. "No, absolutely not." Sakura held on stubbornly. "He is with the one he is meant to be with. He's with the love of his life!" Sakura laughed. Again it sounded so hollow. Empty. "He's happy. He's really happy. He won! He got everything."

Based on what Kushina said?

"She is his wife!" Sakura reminded her harshly. "She knows him better than anyone. She makes him happier than anyone could. He's happy. They are happy!"

If that was true, why would she feel the need to tell you that? To tell your clone that…while her husband was unconscious on a hospital bed just after narrowly avoiding death? If they were all those things, how could she even have a shred - a hint - of insecurity? Why would she bother with you?

"She was just making it perfectly clear!" Sakura stubbornly denied, refusing to see what Inner saw. What Inner believed but was just not there. "Why in the world would he be hung up on a possibility? On me? When he has everything. Everything he could ever want."

Sakura, I can't speak for him. I can't explain for him.

"Bullshit, Inner!" Sakura growled. "You had no trouble doing it before, just seconds ago!"

Sakura! Inner's voice reprimanded her. Who do you think you're fooling here?

"You're wrong, Inner. That's not why. He's just freaking out. The pressure is too much, it's getting to him. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want his wife - the love of his fucking life - to die. He's, he's, he's….," she sputtered, covering her face with her hands. Pressing into herself.

Sakura. Inner's was almost gentle. I know you told yourself that he was happy, unbelievably happy and that made things easier. That made living with your choices easier. Even if just marginally. You could always lose as long as he always won. You could live with that. But Sakura, you saw what I saw.

"I saw nothing," she held onto denial, wearing it like armor that the arrows Inner drew back and aimed at her could not pierce. "What kind of person," Sakura blinked back the tears, pulling at her hair. "What kind of person would I have been if I made a life with Minato knowing what I know?" She asked herself. "Knowing that he's Naruto's father and Kushina's…."

You would be no different than the people you sacrifice everything for, Sakura.

The pinkette sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her in a squat.

Why is it okay for everyone to be selfish but you, Sakura?

The medic pressed her forehead to her knees. The silence was maintained by her. The thought never occurred to her.

I didn't say anything before Sakura because of the state of things. But now Orochimaru and Danzo are dead, Haru is safe, Loris is safe, and the nations seem to be stabilizing but you need to think about it. You need to really think about it. You need to think about whether or not there is another path for you.

But how could she look forward when Inner was making her reevaluate her past? When Minato was forcing her to rethink things she thought she knew.

It wouldn't have worked, Inner. Kushina is whole. Kushina is pure-hearted. Kushina is the one Minato deserves. And she deserves him. They are good to each other. She can give more than I can. She was always the only option for him.

Sakura, I know you're a liar. You lied to everyone and you had to. I get it. But Sakura, you can't lie to me. You can't lie to yourself. This is the same bullshit that future Sakura pulled and you know it. You're repeating her - your - mistakes. The same damn ones from your past life. You sanitized reality to fit what you wanted to be true. Just like future Sakura refused to acknowledge Naruto's love for her, just as she downplayed his feelings to his face to the point it was insulting.

But you and I both know her confession was not a lie. Not completely. She loved Naruto but she was not ready to admit it to herself and he saw right through that. How could he accept her confession when she told herself that his feelings for her were simply a childhood crush or born out of competition with Sasuke? Naruto knew what was in his heart. You gave up on your feelings for Naruto without a fight. Just like you gave up Minato without one. You pushed him into Kushina. You made the choice for him. You did not let him choose, Sakura. Because you were scared. You were scared he wouldn't choose you. You convinced yourself he wouldn't choose you. So you chose for him.

Sakura shook her head in her huddled-over position. She pulled her knees even closer to her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, teeth pressed against each other until it hurt. Still no more than the pain in the center of her chest; no matter how tight her jaw got.

Because how could there be truth in what Inner claimed - because that was how she spoke it , like it was a fact. Hinata jumped in front of Pein for Naruto, without any concern for her life. That was the kind of love Naruto had waiting for him to open his eyes. She loved him unconditionally and with her whole heart since the beginning. Her heart was not confused or corrupted with feelings for another. Her love was pure. Hinata was pure.

Hinata sacrificed herself for him.

And you want me to believe you wouldn't?!

"I don't know," she said wetly. She did nothing in that situation. Again. She stood there. Useless while her home crumbled around her.

Bullshit, Sakura! You jumped in front of a poisoned blade for a near-perfect stranger in Chiyo-baasama and you're trying to tell me with a straight face that if you'd known you wouldn't have done anything to help Naruto when he was in danger? Naruto?!

Sakura made herself even smaller on her bedroom floor. She blinked into her lap out of fear that Inner would pull her into her domain if she closed her eyes for anything longer than it took to blink.

I know, Sakura. I am the only one who knows. You would have. You have thrown yourself between Pein and Naruto, between anyone and Naruto. Zero hesitation. Just because you loved him second, it does not make your love for him any less than Hinata's. I know you, Sakura No-Last-Name. I have the same memories. I relived the same memories. You cannot lie to me. You cannot lie to yourself.

The peeling laminate film of the floor was textured against her cheek. She had to lie down, curled into a ball. She had to lie down because that was the only way to fight off the panic. The panic that was building, a wave building to a crest that would sweep her away. Forever lost. Her heart stammered in her chest at the pace with which Inner screamed words at her.

I am you! I am the part of yourself that you keep hidden because you're terrified beyond words that if you shared me with the world, no one would want you. That no one would love you. So you lock me away. You push me to the furthest corners of your mind. You gave me a name. You gave me an identity. Then you convinced yourself that I am something different. That I am not you. That I am separate from you. You keep me inside your head and inside your head only. You use me to make yourself feel better. You use me as a release for frustrations because you're too damn scared to be yourself! I am your dirty little secret that you would rather die before everyone found out.

But you need me. I am your crutch. I am what you compare yourself to so you can feel good about yourself, Sakura. I am the Sakura to your Konoha. You only want me when you need me. You spurn everything else about me - about yourself - when you do not. I am you, Sakura. No matter how much you want to pretend otherwise. I am all the parts of yourself that you hate the most.

She clamped down on her bottom lip hard enough to leave impressions of her teeth.

And to keep you functioning, I let you. I let everyone you told about me believe that. Because that's what you needed to protect yourself. Because no one did. No one looked out for you. So I did. I kept losing so you could draw, so you could tie.

But I'm tired. I'm tired of propping you up - the parts you deem salvageable - while you neglect me. The parts of me that make me who I am. You hate yourself. You think you hate yourself. But how can you? When you don't even acknowledge this part of yourself. When you don't even recognize me as part of yourself. I know you, Sakura. I am you, Sakura.

The tears fell down her cheeks faster. She could not turn Inner off. Inner was not going to show her any mercy. Not today. Not now. Maybe not ever again. She nearly choked on a silent sob.

Future Sakura doomed herself. She told herself over and over and over again that it was her job to save Sasuke, to be loyal to Sasuke. A boy, a man, that was never loyal to her. A boy that left her on a fucking bench for anyone to take advantage of in the middle of fucking night! I know you, Sakura. I am you, Sakura.

I know you don't want to die. I know you played the how-should-I-kill-myself game to get used to the idea, to desensitize yourself to the thought of killing yourself, to make it palatable. But I was there, Sakura. When you almost died in that hideout. I was there. I was the one who comforted you. I was the one who had you. I know! I know you don't want this life. I know you don't want to die.

She closed her eyes; hand curled into a loose fist against the floor so it did not find her hair to pull out by the root. Strand by strand. As Inner tore her apart, bit by bit.

I know you're scared shitless of dying alone, of not knowing what happens to you. You're scared. I know, I know, deep down inside that you are a coward. You were too scared to follow your heart. You were too scared to acknowledge the truth. You were too scared to walk back all the loud, public claims that you loved Sasuke; the promises you made to him to make him happy. You felt responsible. You made yourself responsible. I know that about you, Haruno Sakura.

You are scared of love. You are scared of the real thing. The kind where the person you gave your heart to, gives you theirs fully. You're scared of being responsible for a heart less broken than your own. Because if it was already broken, no one could blame you for it? Right? No one would notice a couple more cracks. Or maybe you could fill their brokenness with pieces of your own. Make them mostly whole while you have nothing left. Because that is what love is, right? Pain?

Sakura latched onto someone even more broken than her: Sasuke. Someone who could never love her like she wanted - like she was too scared to admit or ask for; like she did not think she deserved. She clung to the familiar. She held onto disappointment. Because Sasuke did. He disappointed her over and over. She was used to that. She knew how to handle that. Because if she had something different, something not painful and tragic then it would destroy her when it was taken away. Because all things had to end. Eventually. Some much sooner than that. And she was right. Her friends moved on. Within two years. Love was not permanent. Love was not everlasting. Love was a lie.

You, Sakura, are a self-fulfilling prophecy. You are so scared that no one would - could - love you, pick you, that you actually turned away the ones that did. You turned him away. In both of your lives.

Because Haruno Sakura loved Uzumaki Naruto. And it was clear in everything that she did for him. Past and present. She did not laugh in his face outright when he asked her to…. Her actions spoke in testament to the true truth, unblemished by the corruption of the words from her dishonest mouth.

Sakura shook her head. The floor stayed stagnant as her world spun clockwise. East to west, nothing made sense. What good did love bring her? The kind of love Inner spoke of? What did it give her other than pain? Other than questions that carved her soul?

Today…he looked at us.

He had looked at her. He had looked at her the same way he used to. Before he showed up on her roof to tell her that he was marrying Kushina. Before he vowed to tie all his tomorrows with hers in front of their friends who had become family just as the two of them became each others. For a moment, he looked at her. And she had slapped him for it.

He knows Sakura. Why else would he say those things? Those cruel things? Those true things?

"No," she shook her head, clinging onto her sanity and her perception all with one tight white-knuckle grip. "You're wrong. You don't know that. You're lying."

Sakura. Admit it. Admit it to yourself.

"You're just trying to confuse me," she blinked slowly, eyelashes dark and heavy from her salty tears. "You're just…."

It felt like she was about to explode but no such fate was bestowed upon her. She did not want to believe it. She could not believe it. She did not have the words for what she was feeling. What words were there for the situation she believed she understood, and the person - entity - she thought she knew?

He was yours. Ours. From the beginning. He would have stayed that way if we didn't listen to Naruto's self-

Sakura shot up to her feet abruptly - clumsily. "Naruto's not selfish!" She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice sounded like sandpaper on a metal pipe.

He is. He absolutely is. He asked this of us while spinning it. He wasn't honest. He pretended he was doing this all for everyone else too, not just himself. But did he ever say that Sasuke asked him? Sasuke chose to move on and break the cycle. Naruto pulled him back. His parents did not ask him to do this. His family didn't ask him. He didn't ask you! He didn't ask us once about our life, the life we had before he came in and derailed it.

"A life we only have because of him!"

We died for him, Sakura!

"He didn't ask us to!" She snarled.

But he asked us to give up this life. And you did.

"I didn't do this all for him," she glared at the wall. "Not just for him. I did it for me too. So that I would have a better life. I did this so I would be born into a brighter world!"

And that Sakura, right there is the difference. We at least admitted to ourselves that everything we've done is not purely altruistic. That we were motivated by selfish desires. That and the fact that we would never ask Naruto to throw away his whole life for us. Or anyone.

Sakura pulled her shirt over her head. Her dark eyes were unreadable. It formed a black pool on the floor. She unzipped her pants and stepped out of them.

What are you doing?

"I don't need this," she spat, moving to her closet. "I don't need to listen to your bullshit." To Inner's lies. There was never an alternative. So why torment herself with the prospect of it? Inner was the liar. Detained. Delusional. Dead-wrong.

She grabbed the closest shirt she could find. She shoved it down her head, practically throwing her unmarked arms into the long sleeves. Her hands shook and her vision blurred with her angry tears. She slipped into a skirt. Her agitation grew as she rooted around for her boots. She sat at the edge of her bed, tugging them on. The leather groaned.

Where are you going?

Sakura slammed the door, letting the action answer Inner. She did not trust herself to be alone right now. And she certainly did not want to be alone with Inner. The whole unit rattled but held. Sakura took to the rooftop, her brain shut off as her legs carried her down a path she would no longer be estranged from.

xXx

Sakura brought an arm over her head. Her hips swayed side to side. The artificial stars were shining just for her. Spotlights. A large smile adorned her face. She tilted her closed eyes towards the ceiling. The bright lights seeped through her eyelids, illuminating the dark in splotches. She felt so alive. And warm. And unburdened. Everything seemed so far away. Her problems could not touch her. She brought her left hand from her chest. She lowered her head just enough to press the bottle to her lips. She drank a generous sip. Giggling when some of the sake spilled out from the corners of her mouth. Dribbling down her neck and disappearing into the valley of her breasts.

"No touching," Sakura pushed away the greedy hands that groped her leather wrapped ankles and calves, exposed knees and thighs. Anywhere they could reach.

"We're just making sure you don't fall, Baby," a voice spoke from the small crowd gathered down below.

"T-that's so nice," she was cut off by a hiccup. She giggled without a pause or concern.

"That's right, Darlin'," another voice that sounded different, cooed to her. "We're all nice people here." His remark was punctuated with a chorus of hearty agreement.

S-sakura. G-go home. Inner groaned. She was not spared the effects of the bottles the pinkette had pounded through. Or the handful of gummies she had scarfed down - the rest of the bag she had stolen from Inoichi at the last dinner she had been at - after giving Chika her cut of course, as the poor dear's joints were giving her all sorts of trouble in the warming temperatures. Sakura had gone so fast that Inner could not keep up with the filtration before she too was unable to utilize Sakura's chakra. The woman paid the voice in her head no mind as she continued to dance on the counter. She did not stop moving, even to drink.

"I'm all done," she pouted. She turned around shakily and looked at the bartender. "More please."

"I cut you off," he reminded her with a stark lack of amusement. "Half an hour ago."

"B-but why, Buno-san?" She hiccuped, tilting her head to the side. The action nearly caused her to come toppling down. She just managed to correct herself. Standing completely still until her legs stabilized under her. "No touching!" She batted at the hands on her ass. "I h-have money," she gazed upon him with uneven focus. "Lots!" She patted at her coin purse on her hip. It rattled in corroboration that her claims were truthful.

"Go home, Sakura," the bartender did not bother to keep the disgust off his face.

"B-Buno-san," she whined, pitchy with need. "I'm not ready to go home yet." Home was too cold. Home was too quiet. "I'm having too much fun." She liked dancing. Dancing was nice. Dancing was simple. Dancing did not hurt her every time she tried to talk to it.

That's what you're here for right? To be used?

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I need it," she begged. She needed it to forget.

I know, deep down inside that you are a coward.

"Here, Baby." She felt something tap against her leg, right at her knee. Cold and smooth. Damp. A brown beer bottle. She hesitated.

Why not offer yourself sooner? Why stop at using your mind? Why draw that arbitrary line when your sole purpose is to be used?

Sakura reached for the open bottle, hand shaking slightly. The last few traces of her dignity and self-preservation trying to speak to her, to stop her.

You, Sakura. He wanted you. He wants you.

She stared at it, stomach clenching. Insides burning with the heat of acid.

Why not use your body too?

Fucking bastard. Fuck the both of them! She brought the bottle to her lips without a second thought. Glassy green eyes closed and chin tilted up to the stars. More alcohol was held out to her as offerings to her altar of terrible decisions. She beamed as she reached for the nearest one, hands and fingers possessive. Steady. She did not think or hesitate this time. She knocked it back. And then another because she could still hear him - them - in her head.

"Kami," she wiped her brow with her forearm as she used her other hand to fan herself after finishing the third variety of alcohol she drank indiscriminately. "It's so hot in here." She spun slowly, in a small lazy circle. Her smile was long gone and her skin was covered in sweat. Everything was sticky. "I'm so wet," she complained loudly, touching her neck; feeling the sweat clinging to her. "It's too bright." She covered her eyes with her forearm. "Turn off the stars, please," she said to no one in particular, voice but a mumble, blurring around the edges.

"Why don't you shed that shirt? It looks thick." A very helpful suggestion from the faceless crowd.

Sakura brought her fingers to the scooped hem in what passed as a good idea in her mind. "Water," she paused, suddenly remembering there was an alternative way to cool herself down. "Water," she repeated hoarsely in the direction of the bar.

"Here," clear liquid was offered to her, calling for her attention.

She bent down, someone grabbed her arm to steady her. She felt hands on her waist. Groping and grabbing whatever they could and they certainly were not being gentle or shy about it. She drank from the cup only to spit it out.

"Sake!" She twisted away, bringing the back of her hand to dab at the moisture on her lips. She tried to pull herself back to the counter but there were too many hands grabbing her.

Why not use your body too?

I know you, Sakura. I know you don't want to die.

"Ramen!" She said loudly, flailing her arms backward without abandon - she rather met the cold, hard floor than the cage of warm bone and flesh - until her rear sat back on the sticky countertop.

"I'll take you to get ramen, Baby. Are you hungry?" A voice called out.

Sakura ignored him. She wiggled, trying to lengthen her skirt so she could step down from the counter without flashing her panties to everyone within six feet of her.

Should I have put it into a mission scroll, Sakura?

I know you, Sakura. I am you.

She was beginning to hate the sound of her own name. She gave up on decency as she lowered herself to the floor relying on gravity to do most of the work, holding onto the counter for support. Her joints creaked.

"Excuse me!" She squeaked out high, but no one listened over their low, rumble of clamoring. No one made room for her. Her legs were wobbly and there were too many bodies around her. She bumped shoulders and elbows and hips and legs as she navigated her way through. Stumbling. Off balance. Arms around herself. Trying and failing to fight off all the hands. There were so many. The hands that kept touching her. She blinked, the double vision was making it hard to focus.

Ramen. She coaxed herself to keep moving. She would feel better with ramen in her belly. Blurry-eyed, sweating profusely, she pushed through the crowd. Not hearing the jeers, whistles, and comments.

"Aww, Baby. Don't be like that. All I want to do is buy you some ramen," the man said with a rough chortle.

She shivered. Sakura reached for the wall, pressing her shoulder against it to support herself. She panted heavily. Everything was starting to blur together. All she saw were strokes of color. Loud. Aggressive. Bold. Flashes of light. Her hearing was in and out. Like she was underwater. But she was not. She would not be feeling so trapped - so claustrophobic - if she were.

A grunt left in the form of an exhale as she made it a couple more feet in front of her. Hands on her ass. Hands in her hair. She whimpered, something sharp dug into the skin of her side. An edge. Metal. She leaned into it. Nearly falling on her face as it began to pull away from her. Pricking it with an edge sharp enough to eat into her. She spilled into the alleyway. It was dark. But it was cooler than inside. She inhaled deeply. Filling her lungs with air.

R-ramen. She slapped the side of her cheek to tell herself to stay awake. To stay on her feet. Both her arms were shaky, held out in front of her to map obstacles her eyes could not identify. She stumbled. An arm wrapped around her waist. The scent that filled her nose had her wrenching. She emptied the contents of her stomach not even a foot from the door. Alcohol burned her nose and throat. Tears stung at her eyes.

"Shh," a voice whispered, hot breath fanning the side of her face causing her eyelashes to flutter. Like the broken wings of a moth. Hands abrasive on her cheeks, fingers twisting in her hair. "You're okay."

She tried to shake her head. She tried to say no. But she was having trouble staying upright. She pushed away, stumbling as separation was created. Her arm darted out catching on something solid. She turned, slowly; her instincts trying to fight external and internal threats. Her back pressed against something rough. She was too far gone to recognize it as the brick of the ally. It smelled so bad. Rancid. Or maybe it was the traces of vomit in her passageways. She wrinkled her nose, turning her head toward her shoulder to make it stop, wanting to crawl into the brick.

Is that all it would have taken for you to give into my demands?

I know you're scared shitless of dying alone.

Feet - several - dragged through the fine dirt.

"S-stop," she felt tears start to prick at her eyes just as she found her voice again. But her soft words were swallowed by their forward movement. They kept coming. Closer and closer. The stench of their intention lodged itself in her throat. "S-s-stop," she nearly choked on it. She just wanted to dance. She just wanted ramen. She wanted to feel warm and safe. Like home.

"T-Teuchi-san." But the face - the faces in front of her were not Teuchi-san. They were a blur. There were four of them? No, maybe it was seven? Eight? "S-stop," she pleaded with the impossible. She was getting warmer with more bodies moving closer and closer to her. She just wanted to forget. She did not want this.

Inner. She begged. Make it stop. Take it away. Like last time. Inner!

But even Inner was quiet. Her wrists were slammed painfully into the wall behind her. She let out a gasp, delayed in response. Her motor skills had degenerated to a degree she could no longer control. Frozen and locked away.

The songbird….

"Songbird," she cried out. Lip trembling.

"This is how you like it, don't you? You filthy whore?"

"The s-songbird," a line of saliva connected her lips as she panted with her open mouth, willing her brain to remember the phrase that would end it all.

"Is that what you want me to call you?" He laughed, inciting the others to do the same. "Do you want me to make you scream?"

R-remember. Remember!

There was a rough tug on her hair, forcing her head back against the brick, neck exposed and bare. She whimpered. A white mask covered his face - all their faces - in the reflection of her glazed-over eyes. The seals in her head, the ones containing her memories, were being tested as reality and memory blurred into the confusing picture in front of her, transposed.

You, Sakura, are a self-fulfilling prophecy.

"Thesongbirdcrieswhenthesungoesdown!" She spoke quickly, in one breath, pushing out in pure relief. "The songbird cries when the sun goes down!" She sobbed because the words did not make it stop. A tear slid down her cheek, lost in the fray. Inner abandoned her just like everyone else. She squeezed her eyes shut. Repeating the phrase brokenly. A blubbering mess.

Future Sakura doomed herself. You're repeating your mistakes. The hollow memory of Inner's voice taunted her, the echo amplified in the emptiness.

Help me, please!

A growl cut through everything. The hands stopped pulling and tugging and feeling. Everything froze, homogenizing the scene for a mere second. A still before the chaos. There was a scream followed by a string of curses. The hot breath on the side of her neck was gone. But she did not open her eyes. With hands not there to hold her up, she crumbled. Falling to the ground, like a ragdoll. Limp. Something warm and soft caught her. There was another growl. Her lips moved wordlessly. Her tears transferred to the warm, soft, pelt. Diamond dewdrops on black silk.

Sounds, her ears long stopped hearing, continued to swirl in the air. Shouts. Shuffling feet. More feral sounds. Guttural. Screams. There was screaming. She recognized that much. But she did not fight being pushed back against the wall. Something kept rubbing against the tip of her nose. Eyes blinking closed each time. But she was unaware, mumbling to herself, legs drawn to her chest. She blocked it all out. For minutes, for hours, for seconds, she did not know. It was too much and happening so fast.

It was when she felt something wet, smooth, and warm against her cheeks that her brows furrowed. It was not a bad touch. It was familiar. There were other signs of life. She blinked slowly, pulling away from the dissociation that had surrounded her. The only thing that was there to protect her. But that was then. Back when there was nothing else. Her eyes focused on a picture of black and white staring at her, level with her head. A soft whine let out. It snapped her out of it.

"Puppy!" She cried out in relief, her prayer answered. She threw her arms around him. Sakura grabbed his fur in handfuls, to steady herself, to ground herself. She laughed into his neck, delirious. He was real. "Kuromaru-kun." She inhaled his scent. Memories of her Genin days - lying under the shade of a large oak tree after practice, sharing Haru-no-bun baked goods as part of a makeshift picnic, pulling weeds, swimming in the creek, getting chased out of restaurants because they snuck Kuromaru into Tsume's jacket - pushed away the volatile negative emotions in her. Locking them away. For now. The danger was over. It was time to pull herself together. "I missed you," she mumbled into his black and white coat; only for her to make sense of.

His tail wagged in a muted display, his visible eye held urgency. She did not notice the blood lining his teeth or marring his fur. He nudged her arm with his nose, coaxing a gap between it and her side. He snuck his head in and pushed up in a clear command. Her body moved in compliance. The wall and the ninken steadied her, wedged between the two. Her knees nearly buckled when she tried to move away from the former. He let out a soft bark. She nodded her head. Sakura clung to tufts of white and black fur and she shimmed onto his back. Her legs dangled on either side of him, not touching the ground. Her rear by the back of his head. He picked up his feet and moved them out of the now-deserted alleyway.

"So warm," she nuzzled her face into his back. Safe. Kuromaru's hackles smoothed down, they were no longer pressing into her stomach. "Tsume-chan!" She lifted her head as the familiar face came into view sitting on a bench under the ample light provided by the street lamps. The street was quiet. The majority of bodies were in beds at this late hour. "What are you doing here?" Sakura babbled, only slurring slightly not realizing her surprise was unwarranted. "You should be resting!" She gasped when she suddenly remembered. She looked at Tsume's extended belly with an uneven frown, blinking rapidly.

"The pup only settles when I'm moving around," Tsume's canines glistened in the moonlight. "You smell like a bar."

"That's where I was. But you know that." She tapped her nose before scrunching it. Brushing Kuromaru's fur from her face.

"Are you stoned?" Tsume's frown increased in magnitude, her nose worked through the plethora of scents wafting off her. And the dilated pupils.

"Only a little," Sakura admitted, sheepishly, flattening her cheek against Kuromaru's back once again.

"Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?" She was messed up, a medic did not need to make that determination.

"I am now," she smiled, timid as unaware of the reception it would receive. "I threw up," she covered her mouth with her hand, remembering the taste of her vomit in the back of her throat. "I'm okay." Her body would correct itself soon enough. It was used to the abuse she forced it to endure. "You're always saving me, Tsume-chan. You and Kuro-kun," she patted the top of his head fondly. "Such a good boy."

Tsume kissed her teeth, reeling in her emotions heightened by her hormones. Something inside of her would surely snap if Sakura thanked her for this. "I taught you how to drink but it seems like you forgot the first rule. Never get shitfaced in public when you're on your own. Never on your own," Tsume admonished her, her canines pressed against her purple lip. Even the markings on her face were set in disappointment.

"Sorry," Sakura utterly meekly, in a squeaky voice. "I'm not hurting him am I?" Another apology danced on her tongue, ready to be pushed out when prompted.

Tsume scoffed in visible offense at the question which was by all accounts considerate. "You're nothing to him."

Sakura's eyes lost their light. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into her shoulder, turning away from the clan head.

Tsume grimaced at her poor choice of words. She brought her hand to the bottom of her stomach and sighed. "How are you, Pink?"

Sakura's lips quirked at the familiar-adjacent nickname. "Fine," she groaned and slowly sat up. "Congratulations," she said in a small voice, eyes fixated on Tsume's belly because she was much too much of a coward to look at her face. "For Hana-chan too."

"Thanks. I got your flowers. At least, I assumed they were from you. There was no card. No note. No words. Just the flowers. Marigolds and aster. My favorites. You are the one who taught me what they mean. And of course, they are dog-safe and nose-friendly." The woman paused to wince as the baby inside her kicked furiously. Reminding her that he was not happy that she was still sitting down. "They came during a time when I really needed them too."

"I'm sorry you have to do this all on your own," Sakura spoke with remorse. Nothing in this village was sacred. Nothing at all. The Gossip Gods spared no one and nothing.

"I'm not," Tsume said gruffly. "Good riddance to that deadweight."

"Still," she murmured. "Can't be easy."

"Nothing worth doing is," the woman said with a sigh. "And I'm not alone. Not really. I have my clan. I have my family. I have my friends, my pack."

"You're tough, strong," Sakura hummed slightly, with traces of melancholy. Tsume would be fine. "I'm glad."

Her brown eyes kept moving and scanning, taking inventory of each fold and crumpled line in Sakura's shirt. She could see redness through the very stretched-out neckline. Anger spiked. It was nearly containable by the time her brown eyes registered the blood on Kuro's front and his teeth. It was not his own. She could tell by the smell. It accompanied the visual of a small mob hightailing it out of the alley. Leaving streaks of blood in their wake.

"Take off your shirt," she barked out roughly. "You smell terrible and I can't stand another minute of it." She pulled one canvas strap from her shoulder, rooting through the tote bag. She held out a jacket. "Here, put this on instead." With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, relying on Kuromaru's head like the hilt of a cane.

"Okay," Sakura did not question her. She pulled her shirt over her head without thought, leaving her black sports-bra-clad breasts out in the open.

"Sakura!" Tsume smacked her hand to her forehead after her eyes glanced around for witnesses. She found none. "I didn't mean right now!"

"What?" The pinkette grumbled, disgruntled. "You said you can't stand another minute, so what was I supposed to think?" She struggled to find the arm hole of the jacket.

"Just stop," the woman waddled over, covering sightlines to Sakura's front with her body.

"I can do it myself!" Sakura huffed, reminding Tsume of a very different picture; the one where her daughter Hana insisted on doing everything "herself."

"Stop resisting," the Inuzuka ordered in a tone that was not to be questioned. Sakura stilled. Tsume grabbed Sakura's arm and helped her through the opening, with gentle hands despite her frustrations, her long nails did not add to the scratches or bruises marking Sakura. Hands moved up to smooth Sakura's mussed hair.

"There," Tsume took the black shirt from the woman and shoved it into her bag not before zipping up the dark purple jacket to Sakura's chin.

"Do you want my skirt too?" The pinkette blinked.

"Leave your pants on," Tsume rolled her eyes, shoving the shirt into her bag. "There's less sake spilled on it," she explained at the dubious look on Sakura's face. The pinkette shrugged in acceptance.

"Won't the smell bother you more now? Since it's closer to you." Sakura asked, tugging on the too-long sleeves that covered her hands. She began to flail her arms. She could use them more or less fully again. "It's covered in dog hair."

"No. The bag has an odor-neutralizing jutsu," Tsume lied. Ignoring Sakura's exclamation of "oh", it held too much interest. If she did not nip it in the bud or distract her there would be follow-up questions. "And the jacket matches the rest of you now," Tsume brought a hand to the small of her back. "He's blowing out his summer coat. You won't be able to get him out of your skirt no matter how many times you wash it."

"That's okay." Sakura plucked hair from his back. She giggled. "It's snowing." She threw it in the air and watched it flitter down in the breezeless night. The black was like ash.

"I'm walking you home," Tsume said with a frown. No sooner had she said the words did she start to waddle.

Sakura lowered her head back down against the ninken. "I'm a big girl," she spoke into his fur, hiding her face like a child caught red-handed. "I'll be okay," she lied. Because she was a liar.

"Listen, Sakura. They're some things I need to say to you," Tsume began with a sigh, eyeing the woman from the corner of her eye. "Don't interrupt me because I'm not very good at this stuff."

"Feelings," Sakura uttered solemnly.

"What did I just say?" Tsume snipped at her.

Sakura shrank back. She pressed her index and thumb fingertips together, she brought them to her lips gliding the joined digits over her closed lips. She made the motion of throwing something over her shoulder.

"Tsk," Tsume kissed her teeth. She rubbed her belly, watching her foot placement as she walked. "I regret how things ended up between us. You bailed on me and I was angry and still am to some extent, but I'm not completely blameless," she tilted her head back and stared at the moon overhead. She barely moved which meant Kuromaru was partially stationary. "I didn't try hard enough to reach out, to hold onto you. My pride was hurt. I was angry at you for being a bad teammate and friend and I couldn't see that I was guilty of the same. You were in my pack and I abandoned you. I didn't ask you once what was going on with you. And I'm so-"

A snore cut her off. The Inuzuka frowned, staring at the passed-out medic on the back of her ninken.

"Kami," Tsume shook her head, and let out a long sigh. "What are the chances she heard any of that, Kuro?" She asked the black and white dog impassively. Kuromaru shook his head once in a decisive sentiment.

"It figures," Tsume pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you get their scents?"

The dog let out a small bark of confirmation.

"Good. If you forget, we have her shirt." Tsume's eyes narrowed into slits. She could not bring this to Fugaku because it would end up reaching Mikoto. And if it reached Mikoto that meant it reached Kushina. And the last thing she wanted was Kushina giving her an earful for getting sucked into the mess that was Sakura. Kurmaru let out two barks in quick succession, following her line of thought. His tail wagged low. It was far from friendly.

"What are we going to do with her?" She asked herself, lips tugging up into what could be mistaken for fondness now that her anger and outrage had something to focus on. "Let's go, Kuromaru."

The ninken followed at her hip. Hanging close. They arrived at Sakura's building in silence. Both of their noses burned from the stench of the various strong odors coming off of her clothing and from her mouth every time she exhaled. Tsume stood in the street as Kuromaru walked up the stairs slowly with Sakura still asleep on her back. The door was locked. He let out a whine.

"I'll be fine," Tsume said from the street. "Stay." She turned heavily on her heel, grumbling under her breath to the Inuzuka Compound.

Sakura would stir partially awake minutes later, curled around the dog right outside her front door. Her throbbing head prevented any thought from reaching her other than "pain". She buried her head and along with it, her shame in his fur and drifted off to sleep, surrounded by soft warmth and the reassuring beats of his heart.

Safe. Warm. Home.

---

A/N: Please review. Thank you!