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.

8. Part Eight: Consequence

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

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Part 8: Consequence

Her life would be so much easier if she was omniscient. If nothing else it would completely free her from the near-constant second-guessing brought on by each and every decision she made. And that was all she did. Minute by minute. She made decision after decision. Sometimes backed by fact, knowledge, or belief while at times operating on pure instinct. The latter was the hardest for it brought the biggest wave of doubt crashing down on her. Knowing not enough was almost as debilitating as knowing almost everything if not more.

For instance, she had no idea when it actually happened, when Anko got the curse mark becoming the first few test subjects to survive. If not the first survivor ever. No amount of going through the less than a handful of interactions future Sakura had with the woman, provided any additional context. She was very tight-lipped about what happened to her. And this Sakura could not blame or fault her. Her trauma was branded on her in a place for any eye to see. A literal mark of the worst thing that happened to her and it was out in the open. Exposed. Susceptible to not-so-low murmurs, double-takes, and sharp inhales of breath.

Anko was surprisingly forthcoming, all things considered, in the pursuit of nullifying it. The woman subjected herself to scans, poking, and prodding, trial and error, becoming almost revictimized in the very cold, clinical process. Yet another subject with a number attached to her in some top secret file with sections redacted out.

Dehumanized.

The more she thought about it, the more future Anko's eccentricness and instability made sense to her. It made too much sense. She did not deal with her childhood trauma. Not the so-called right way at least.

Just like everyone else.

Sporadic memories of studying Anko's seal shed some light. It was a baseline of sorts. What had been embedded into the woman's neck - at some point when she was a genin - was very different from the seals she saw in Orochimaru's lair. She had maybe a year, maybe as many as two. But it was all guesswork. She was more or less sequestered in the village. She could not go out to see what his latest progress was.

Have you tried asking him nicely?

Hilarious.

Loris ground the gelatinous ball in her teeth, turning it into a sweet paste. Her jade-colored eyes were narrowed with disapproval. Even if she was omniscient it would not be all that helpful. She had changed things, moved things around. They were not as she remembered them or as how others remembered them. She pulled the last ball from the skewer, chewing irately.

No.

The teen was busy at work, sitting on her heels. Her purple hair was gathered up on top of her head, secured in place with two crossed senbon. She reached for a substance to her right. She lifted it to the sunbeam that was filtered through the leaves of the canopy. Her purple eyes watched with scrutiny as she swirled the amber liquid with slow circular motions of her wrist.

Don't do it. That's not what you think it is.

The girl reached for the cork on the top of the glass container without hesitation and with complete and total disregard for the consequences of her would-be action.

She rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a suffering sigh, loudly. The teen girl was on her feet in an instant, clutching the small glass vial to her chest. A senbon had moved from her head to her hand. Her nostrils flared in hostility.

"Who's there?" Anko demanded with her weaponized arm extended out. She scanned the clearing surrounded by tall trees that blocked the blue sky from sight.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Loris dropped the shroud that kept her hidden. She swung her legs from the tree. She bit down on the empty skewer.

"Well you're not me," Anko shot back with a scowl. She eyed Loris from head to toe. The longer she stared the more hesitation seemed to creep into her stance. "Why not?" She asked in a huffy manner. "I'm following directions." She held up the vial. "If I add this ingredient here it will make my toxin even more lethal."

Not in the way you intend.

"True," Loris extended the word for as long as she could, as if giving the girl time to think through her words and realize her mistake. Her glaring mistake. She did not. Loris should not have bothered. Young Anko was more like young Naruto than what she grew up to be.

Act first and think maybe never.

Her lips nearly twitched into the shape of a smile. They would have if Anko's mistake was not one that carried such weight. She only had one singular focus, to make sure the girl did not do something so stupid again.

"But there is a chance that the vapors that are caused by the chemical reaction of the new ingredient joining the compound are lethal enough to kill you and anyone within five yards of you. Give or take a yard depending on the strength of the downwind." She tilted her head to the side and said in a monotonous tone. "Not everything is what it appears or claims to be."

Remember that, Anko-chan.

Anko brought her gaze back to the liquid in the glass container. She stared at it with great focus for all but a few seconds before shrugging.

"Eh, I'm sure it will be fine."

You have got to be kidding me. How did these idiots make it long enough for future Sakura to meet them?

Loris shot her skewer right for Anko's hand, knocking the container from her grasp. Rendering it airborne.

"Hey!" Anko shouted at her, clutching her hand that stung - angry and red - in the direction of the tree. She blinked in confusion to see nothing but branches, leaves, and the wind that was referenced. "Where did you go?" She shouted the question akin to an accusation. "Coward!" She spun around.

Loris was there, behind her with the vial between her fingers. She twirled it, moving it over her knuckles. "You're not a very good listener are you?"

Anko puffed her cheeks with the air of her indignation. Her white short-sleeve shirt was far from pristine. There were wrinkles and grass stains. It spoke to the girl's inability to sit still for long. Or stay out of trouble.

"Why should I listen to you, anyway?" Anko crossed her arms over her chest, she jutted out her chin in defiance. "Am I supposed to, just because you wear a mask and I don't?"

"Did you miss the disclaimer in your academy class that said not to dabble in poisons without supervision?" Loris asked her, completely ignoring Anko's valid question, the former - not the latter rhetorical one. "As well as the strong recommendation to use a controlled environment?" One with minimal distractions and preferably without shifting winds.

"I know what I'm doing," Anko ground out. Her patience was waning and her anger only grew.

"Clearly." Loris scoffed.

"It's just a suggestion anyway," Anko huffed, offended. "It's not like I'm doing this at home in my room. I'm not that dumb."

How comforting.

Loris eyed the scroll with a frown set on her lips behind her mask. Anko followed her gaze. The teen reached for the parchment only to have her hands grasping at green grass.

"Hey!" Anko glared at the ANBU who was now back in the same tree with not only the glass container in her gloved hand but the rolled-up scroll in the other. "That's mine! Give it back."

Loris clicked her tongue in reprimand. "It's not yours," she pointed to the character on the scroll. "It is a B-Rank scroll and judging from the fatal mistake you were about to make you're a genin. You stole this scroll."

Points to you for managing to get it open.

"So?" Anko planted her hands on her hips and glowered up at the ANBU. "You stole it from me! You're no better."

"Wrong. You stole it first," Loris pointed out blandly. "Stealing from a thief is hardly stealing now is it?" She did not wait for Anko to answer her rhetorical question. "I will be returning this." She tucked it into her hip pouch. "Do you want to explain to me why you, a genin, have a B-Rank scroll?"

"I don't have to explain anything to you!" She spat out venom with her voice. Her purple eyes glittered with a building rage.

"You do if you don't want to be punished," Loris threatened casually. "If you're going to be brazen enough to steal, you have to be good enough to not get caught. And you, little genin, are all guts and fresh out of luck."

Anko froze. Her bravado melted off her person instantly. "You wouldn't."

"You don't know me," Loris corrected her calmly. "Yet."

As much as anyone can know you.

"I-I," Anko let out a groan of frustration. She stomped her foot, it was muffled by the grass. Not all that satisfying but her point came across. "I want to get stronger!" She growled with her fists shaking at her sides. "I don't have clan jutsu or secrets to fall back on. So I need whatever I can get my hands on to stay relevant, to stay competitive. Because my sensei is an idiot! As incompetent as they come. He doesn't know a thing about teaching. He doesn't care. He only signed up for the steady paycheck! I was useless, unable to do anything in the last war! I don't want - no, I refuse to be a weak little genin forever. I need to get stronger for the Chunnin Exams."

"The Chunnin Exams?" Surprise could not be completely pulled from her voice in time.

"The war's over," Anko seethed from having to explain her motivations to a complete stranger. She braced herself for judgment. "It's only a matter of time before business as usual right?"

She's right. Life will stabilize. Things will go back to how they were.

As surprising as it was for her, peace ushered in new things and some of those new things were old things such as tradition. Traditions would take place once again. The wind moved through the trees as she reflected on it all. The Chunnin Exams would take place once again. And they would happen under a new Hokage. The Yondaime. The perspective Chunnin would not be the only ones being tested with all eyes watching.

"Um hello?" Anko waved in exasperation. "Anyone home?"

"The way I see it," Loris measured her words. "You have two choices, kid. You can either promise not to do something so stupid again, and I pretend I didn't see what I saw."

"And you give me back the scroll?" Anko asked brightly.

"No chance." Loris shot down her plan without remorse or hesitation.

Anko murmured something that sounded dangerously close to "bitch" under her breath. But Loris let it go in the spirit of what she was about to say next.

"Or," the ANBU pulled at Anko's short attention span. "You get yourself a competent sensei."

The teen furrowed her brow and frowned. "Where the hell am I going to find that?"

"You're looking at her," Loris grinned. "Unofficially of course."

Purple eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would you do that? Don't you have better things to do than babysit a genin?"

"I am feeling nostalgic, I suppose." Maybe even a little sentimental. Loris kicked her feet back and forth from her perch giving the appearance of being worry-free and not tied down to the clock. "Something about the Will of Fire. Hopefully, you actually remember that lesson?" Her voice raised in question.

Anko made a face. "They had that same spiel back in your day?" She asked with genuine curiosity, eyes blinking slowly.

Loris's left eye started to twitch.

Just how old do you think I am?

"You got any more of that dango?" Anko held up the empty skewer that Loris had shot at her, with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. "ANBU-sensei?"

Sage, help me.

Why would he start now?

Loris sighed.

---

The smell of parchment gone stale from the lack of sunlight and air circulation surrounded her. The small oil lantern perched at the edge of the large desk provided just enough light for her to read what lay before her. It did nothing to obscure the shadows of everything else. Her orange hair, golden skin, and eyes were made dark by the yellow flame with red edges. She blinked slowly as she stared at something beyond the influence of the light.

The Senju and Uzumaki archives had pulled hours of her life away from her. Yet another day where she leveraged the seal in her head with the ones annotated and scribed in front of her in characters of black ink.

A full conversation was taking place in the realm of her mind. Inner had not deemed it necessary for her to be of semi-concrete form. The words flowed like water, transparent and quick. She did not want to take up his time any more than strictly necessary.

I'm still having trouble understanding why I'm here, Sakura.

If Inner had given him a tangible form and her the ability to look inward, Sakura was convinced that he would be frowning. She could not fault Inner. She was protective of who she let in after what happened with the Yamanaka that had torn through her memories. Sakura imagined that her head was a mess of a place with everything Inner had to keep locked up. She was quite literally held together by seals, secrets, lies, gaslighting, and wishful thinking. Bandaids slapped on by Inner, to stop the bleeding just long enough to make it to the next day. It was Inner's domain. Sakura would just have to rely on her imagination for now.

Inner is proficient in sealing memories. Inoichi spoke up again when Sakura's prolonged silence spoke for her.

I don't need to seal them.

She reminded herself to be patient with both herself and him but it was hard when the tick, tick, tick of the second hand of a clock was all she heard. It was loud enough to drive her completely insane, despite Inner's best attempts to keep her together enough to function. Mostly.

I need to wipe them. I need to erase them completely. All traces. Her voice rang as clear as a bell in the chambers that held a slight echo.

There was hesitation so much so that if she did not know his prowess she would have been worried that the connection had broken and that she was talking to just herself again.

I would need to do more homework, Sakura.

She sighed physically so that he would not hear it mentally. It was an answer just not the one she wanted. Time was running out but there was little she could do other than accept it. No one won against time. She had so many pending things in various stages that it was becoming increasingly harder for her to keep track of them. The walls were closing in on her, ready to crush her like a bug.

I understand. Thank you, Inoichi.

I'm still not sure why we couldn't just have this conversation in person. I know I make it look easy but this does take concentration and more importantly chakra.

He had a full-time job at the Intelligence Department on top of the hours he manned the clan shop, after all. His days were draining enough as it were.

It's better this way. She thought slowly.

Better for who, Sakura?

There was emotion in thought. She had always believed emotion to be woven in by the voice, by tone, and other non-verbal communication; subtle context clues. But when he thought, when their connected minds communicated without delay as their synapses fired, she could feel his exasperation, his disappointment, his desire to impress upon her what he really thought. It was more intense than speaking even. And maybe that was the case because there was less time for anything to go through the filtration process. Raw and honest.

Everyone, she admitted. For you, and Itomi-san. With my reputation, our interactions might be awkward to explain.

She did not want to complicate things for him any more than she already had.

Sakura. He paused for more than several seconds. Mebuki-san shouldn't have said those things. You shouldn't have had to hear them.

Her lips pulled up into a humorless smile. She's not wrong.

She's not right either. Inoichi's voice was firm and steady. It filled her whole mind and expanded out. It momentarily made her forget about the seconds that were slipping away.

She shouldn't have taken out her own frustrations from her insecurities on you, or on anyone - especially not on her own daughter.

Sakura's teeth clamped down on her bottom lip so hard that it bruised. First Minato and now Inoichi. When did blonds get so damn observant?

I saw the Haruno family crest on your clothes, Sakura. In the memory you showed me. It didn't click together until I had my uniform repaired at your grandfather's shop. You have his eyes. You have Mebuki-san's eyes

She inhaled a slow breath. The memories of her own mother condemning her in the worst way were locked up and tucked away inside a neat little box in one of the empty rooms. The door was not sealed yet as there was still additional space to fill the cavity. But she would not be the one to lift the top back up.

Sakura, if you ever need to talk…here or in person don't hesitate to reach out.

Thank you, Inoichi.

She ran her fingertips along the tip of the flame barely feeling its heat.

For always being so kind.

She lowered her hand centimeters. The flame was less warm and more hot. Uncomfortable.

He did not think for quite some time. I'll let you know when I have an update.

She nodded her head. His presence was gone from the dark chamber. The smell of her burning flesh was the only thing to pull her out of her dissociative state, aligning her once more with reality. She stared at the small burn mark.

She had not completely driven out the weakness yet.

---

"I thought I would be learning how to make poisons not render them benign," Anko complained loudly. Her empty dango skewer was against the corner of her mouth like an oversized toothpick. She did not heed Loris's dry warnings that she would choke on it if she was not careful. The girl never stopped talking. She was really good at it.

"You're doing both," Loris explained with a sigh. "In order to defuse a poison, you need to know its composition. By doing this, you are learning two things at once. Work smarter, Anko-chan. Not harder."

I'd honestly settle for just smart-adjacent at this point.

"But you're telling me what's in it!" The girl did not look convinced. The once purple substance was now a cloudy, murky off-white.

"Baby steps," she retorted. "We're building your foundation, with good habits. Eventually, all of this will be second nature. Trust the process."

"Does that mean I have to be stabbed again?" She eyed Loris warily.

"If you want to play with fire, you have to have the right equipment." Loris did not flinch at Anko's unique - crude - way of describing things. "We'll immunize you against the rest of group A first." Those were the toxins she was learning to defuse. "And we'll move on to group B in a couple of weeks, assuming you do not have a mission of course."

"Fine," Anko sighed in resignation. She did not look forward to the chills and body aches. They were almost as fun as the vomiting and nausea. Almost.

"Let me see," Loris stepped closer to the small wooden table where the round goblet-like stainless bowl was placed, surrounded by vials and containers with this or that. She stirred it with her bare finger before rubbing the substance between her thumb and index finger. Purple eyes watched her closely. "Not bad," she smiled behind her mask. "You managed to bring down its potency to fifteen percent of what it was. If you administered this to a comrade in the field, they would survive for up to five days without the rest."

"Just five?" Anko's face fell. "I thought I had it this time." She scratched her head. She stared at the ingredients with an expression of disappointment.

"You're doing really well, Anko-chan," Loris tried to remind her without sounding like she was patronizing or sarcastic. "I am very pleased with our progress here."

"What did I miss?" The girl growled, not placated by the warm words. She bit down on her skewer. Her eyes widened. "Wood!" She turned to Loris with an open mouth. Her skewer fell to the ground. "Charcoal extract!" She did not wait for confirmation. She grabbed the jar containing a fine black powder. She dropped a pinch into the mixture. She stirred it with the wooden spoon until the off-white became a light gray.

"Perfect," Loris nodded her head, pleased.

"Nothing to it!" Anko laughed in triumph. She fell back onto the grass with her arms over her head. She rolled onto her belly and kicked her legs. "I did it!" She shouted in glee.

Loris leaned against the table with a soft smile on her face. She counted down the seconds that she would let Anko relish in her victory. They had a taijutsu lesson to get through before they could call it the end of their session. All in all, it was a very productive start.

---

Sakura inhaled as deeply as her lungs would allow before falling hands first into the water. She sliced it apart with her hands, displacing it and propelling herself further and further in. The water was cold. The air in her body felt heavy, it was trying to coax her back up to the surface where she did not have to hold her breath but she stubbornly kept pushing the water apart. She fluttered her legs not unlike the tailfin of a dolphin. She kept diving until she saw the rocky bottom of the lake.

By the time she sat cross-legged, her pink hair all around her, she was nearly out of oxygen. Green eyes blinked and creamy hands moved. She had a theory in her head. She formed three seals: Ram, Dog, and Monkey.

Sakura's chakra pumped her heart to slow down the need - the demand - for oxygen. She concentrated on the water. A sphere of water rotating clockwise slowly formed in front and all around her head. She flicked her wrist, it began to rotate the other way. Sakura - with the hand that was not holding the last seal - grabbed a fist full of gravel from the lake floor and tossed it into the rotating sphere. Her lungs burned but she only slowed down her heart rate even more, pumping what she could to her brain.

She narrowed her eyes in both concentration and scrutiny as slowly the gravel started to be pushed out of the dome in front of her. She smiled triumphantly. She pulsed chakra down to the bottom of her feet. The force that propelled her out of the water was great, completely disrupting the calm of the lake's surface. She flailed the moment she was made airborne. The column of water had fallen back into the lake, rocking the small body of water. She landed on the rocky, choppy waters. Sakura inhaled in three deep breaths before she stopped the steady flow of her chakra. She sank to the bottom for another try.

xXx

Sakura yawed, covering her mouth with her hand. The droplets of water had yet to completely dry but the air was warm enough that she did not mind. Her black spandex shorts clung to her like a second skin. The same was true for black sports bra. She did not look forward to wrangling that thing off of her. But that was a problem for later. She only had so many days such as this one where she could spend it how she wanted to. And she wanted to spend the rest of it soaking up the sun's rays as she sprawled out on the rock, just on the other side of the Hokage Monument. Away from it all. Her village. A place that was feeling less and less like home.

Sakura brought an arm to rest over her face, covering her closed eyelids from the rays that turned everything red. She dozed off to sleep unbothered by the water that dripped off of her.

---

Things kept touching her face. The wind, a wayward leaf, a speck of dust, spit from the person - the client - speaking way too close to her with much too much passion. The client that she was to escort from Konoha to the edge of Hi right around where the border to Grass was, was a middle-aged man. Jolly and talkative. He was a merchant. Connections were everything in his world. So he networked with everyone. And even a scowling ninja with a bad attitude and pink hair did not discourage him from trying. And try he did. For five whole days. She nearly stabbed herself to make it all end but Inner and her pesky seal would make sure that the fatal wound on anyone else was nothing but a slight inconvenience. So she endured.

"I'll check the perimeter," she murmured over his bubbly voice.

"Kunoichi-san, you are incredibly dedicated to the mission. I cannot stress enough how much-"

She had stalked away from earshot. Sakura sighed as she reached the clearing. She peered at the edge of the cliff. She could still hear the cart being pulled as she funneled more and more chakra to her right ear. They were half a day out before this man was no longer her problem. She was counting down the seconds.

She was promised bandits, hardships, something. And all that was delivered was nothing. It was beyond disappointing.

Maybe your clone will find something.

She was not holding her breath. Things were still quiet on the Uchiha front. She did not find a pattern of interest in the handful of children that were missing. The ones the Watomis wrote to Akira about. Sending their letters to an old outpost near Sota. Even with the increased search parameters. He was probably still reeling from the loss of all his experiments. The fire she had set by pulling wires from the walls hopefully destroyed research that was no longer recoverable. The last thing anyone needed was Orochimaru to have a small army of unstable zombies. Danzo having the same was bad enough.

The wind moved through her pink hair which was held together by a black band at the base of her neck. The ends of it just grazed the small of her back. She needed a trim. Mid-back was just about her limit. But a haircut kept getting pushed down her list of priorities.

Sakura sighed just as a pair of feet shuffled over to her.

"Kunoichi-san?" Tezuka readjusted his round glasses over his brown eyes. "All clear?" He asked with a hunched over frame as his palms pressed up against each other. It was times like this that made her feel validated in her trust issues. He had such a gentle face, one that could be trusted. But he was as ruthless as they came when it came to negotiating. He would take the shirt off someone's back without batting an eye or any feelings of remorse. In fact, he would probably go to sleep with a smile on his face.

"All clear," she replied colorless. Her need to satiate her anxiety with blood would have to go unsatisfied for yet another day.

---

"Well done, Sakura-chan," the Sandiame pulled his fist down his goatee. "Tezuka-san sang your praises up and down." His dark eyes gestured to the sack of ryo on the table. "He wanted to ensure you got your tip in full."

Sakura bowed her head. "Thank you, Hokage-sama." She made no motion to reach for the red and gold pouch sitting on the man's desk, just as Sarutobi was in no hurry to dismiss her.

"Three back-to-back missions," the man said in his raspy voice, impacted by decades of smoking his pipe. "It is almost as if you are trying to make a point."

Sakura kissed her teeth as she opened her mouth. "Just trying to help the village as much as I can." It was a game. The missions were hand-picked by Danzo for her. For Sakura, not Loris. But they were officially assigned through the Hokage. Who was pulling whose strings? She was not so sure about it anymore. All she knew was that she was the marionette caught in the middle and she was not paid to think.

"And the village appreciates it." His lips pulled into a smirk. "Quite the sum on top of the mission pay," his dark eyes flickered to the bag on his desk. "Have any particular plans on what to spend it on?"

"No, Hokage-sama." Her smile did not reach her eyes.

"Well," he chuckled, "if you are serious about helping the village, there are a number of projects that could use some funding. And Tezuka-san seems to be quite taken with you. He has deep pockets."

Sakura's brows bunched together before she could stop them.

Did he just proposition you? Whore you out so Konoha can get shiny new things?

I-I…I think he did.

Normally, she was not as quick as Inner to jump to conclusions. It probably had to do with the fact that Inner did not have to deal with the consequences directly of being trigger-happy like Sakura did, so naturally Sakura - who was tethered to a physical body - was more cautious. Usually. But she trusted her instincts and her instincts did not like the look in the Hokage's beady eyes.

"We are still recovering from war you see," Hiruzen carried on casually. "A new Hokage is to be named. Minato-kun is hard at work being trained. He is the natural successor. The most well-rounded, that is my belief anyway," he took a drag from his pipe, filling the room with putrid air. She did not miss the way his eyes turned so cold.

"I agree, Hokage-sama," she filled the pregnant pause with the sound of her voice. The man nodded his head curtly. His eyes did not warm.

"Good. So then you must also agree that it would be in everyone's best interest that the village is in the best position it can be before the handoff." He leaned forward on his desk, elbows resting on top of it as he lazily stared at her from top to bottom.

All doubt was removed from her then and there. She swallowed down the vomit.

"We all want the same thing, Sakura-chan," he sighed heavily as what he was saying really weighed on him. He was a politician longer than he had been just a shinobi. She was seeing it clearly now.

"For the Yondaime to have a smooth transition; for the Yondaime to be successful, no?" He asked innocently like she was a child in an academy class where he was the guest speaker for the day.

"What are you suggesting, Sandaime-sama?" She asked him clearly without hesitation.

He wrinkled his nose in the way one did when they smelled something unpleasant. "Nothing excessive," he rubbed his goatee between his thumb and index finger. His pipe was held in his other hand. Wise and profound. He had quite a convincing facade. "Nothing distasteful. Just dinner and maybe some companionship. It must be quite hard for Tezuka-san, since his wife passed away."

Right, companionship.

"I see." She held her head high, unwilling to let it be pushed down by the pressure applied.

"Unofficially, of course," he cleared his throat and leaned back. But his dark eyes never left her face. There would be no record. Which meant he would not pay her. If she failed to live up to the merchant's expectations all responsibility would fall on her. Yet if she succeeded, Konoha would benefit. The terms and conditions of her two pimps - unofficially, of course - were beyond unreasonable. She had yet to determine which was one worse.

"Of course," her eyes glazed over the way they always did in matters such as this. It was muscle memory. Her need to protect herself from all the bullshit she was surrounded by.

"For the Yondaime," he began to shuffle the papers on his desk, busing himself.

For the Yondaime.

"Be sure to wear something more…," he pressed his lips together and paused for a moment, eyes raking up and down her person - she felt so naked. "Imaginative?"

You mean something that leaves very little to the imagination, you closet pervert.

Sakura smiled. "I have just the thing."

"Good, good," the man waved her off, pulling paperwork toward him. "I have a meeting with the Elders in a little while."

"Hokage-sama?"

His hand holding the brush to the inkwell paused in midair. She watched as a drop of ink fell back into the vessel.

"The money?" The silence was not comfortable in the least bit so she spoke again. "The mission pay?"

"Oh," he chuckled easily. "Must have slipped my mind. There is so much to keep track of, you see." He gestured to the ryo wrapped up and waiting before yet another quiet dismissal.

"Of course, Sandaime-sama." She bowed again. She walked to the edge of the desk and pocketed the sack of coins. It felt heavy in her hand. significant. He did not lift his head when she closed the door behind her, careful to not let it make a noise to disrupt his supposed concentration.

Before she reached the top step of The Tower she realized that she was right all along. There really were no differences between the two desks. At least not currently. She could only hope that for Minato's sake, that he figured out a way to make the distinction obvious because she did not know what she would do if he failed anyone the way Sarutobi failed her.

---

"What happened?" She asked before she was fully even in the room. One glance painted a picture that she did not care for in the slightest. Sakura was at the exam table, hunched over as she peered into a pair of golden eyes.

"Midori-chan?" She prompted gently as her eyes moved from a busted lip to a swollen black eye that was oozing a clear liquid, a cut knee, and torn nails and knuckles. The girl had been in the scrap of her life. "Please," she pleaded from her huddled-over position. Sakura cupped the side of her head. With a gentle hand, she tried to put the girl at ease.

"Oneechan," Midori started to sob. She covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders lurched.

Sakura reached as far as she could for the small cardboard box at the edge of the counter. She pulled out a handful of tissues. She coaxed Midori to reveal her face to her. She began to dab away at the tears and snot.

"Deep breaths," Sakura encouraged her with a demonstration. "In," she inhaled and held for three. "Out," she exhaled for five. "Good, just like that." Her voice was gentle and calm from years of practice. "I'll go get you some water." She made a motion to do just that. Tiny fingers held her in place.

Calluses.

Sakura tried not to frown as she turned Midori's hand in hers. She could see the cuts that had healed over forming scars. She bit the inside of her cheek until she bled.

"What happened, Midori-chan?" Sakura's eyes were clear but a rage filled the crevices in her, warming her from the inside out. Cheeks flushed, hands twitching. Control waning.

The little girl shook her head. She stared down into her lap as more tears fell. Silent. There were no sobs. The pain from the memory was manageable, for now.

"Did something happen at The Academy?" Her back was starting to hurt. She glanced over her shoulder at the black stool with the metal legs. It was much too far and the girl's need was much too great.

The girl nodded her head, glumly. Sakura began to heal the wounds just to give herself something to do with her trembling hands.

"Your eye is infected," Sakura sighed. She prodded the skin, gently. "The cut did not heal properly. You'll have to take medicine. But I can heal everything else."

"It doesn't hurt," Midori murmured, unconvincingly. She sniffled.

"Can you see okay?" Sakura asked with a frown. She pulled a small white, plastic cylinder from the breast pocket of her white coat before Midori could answer. "Follow the light."

Two eyes followed the light being emitted from the tip of the flashlight. She let out a relieved sigh as her chakra exam came back clean. She finished healing her knuckles, lip, and knee without having to think about it.

Midori hissed when a cotton swab that was dabbed in disinfectant touched the already partially healing cut.

"Midori-chan," Sakura looked at her face. "Please tell me who did this to you."

The girl opened her mouth. But it was the door being swung open that had both of them turning their heads. A head with white hair in a tight bun emerged. Sakura's stomach dropped. She stood to her full height.

"Osono-san," she turned her body so that she was between the woman and Midori. "What are you doing here?" She asked without thinking.

The woman rained a silver brow, peppered with stubborn strands of black. "Isn't it obvious? I'm the girl's guardian."

Her hands clenched around the flashlight, nearly snapping it in half. "What happened?" She demanded. "Why was the wound allowed to get infected? She should have been brought in immediately. Not three days after the fact." It was an estimate. A damn good one.

Sakura.

She ignored Inner as she continued to stare down the woman, tapping her foot in a rude display of her impatience.

"It was a cut and a couple of bruises," Osono looked down her nose at her. "Nothing I could not handle."

Rage simmered up as her eyes flashed, abandoning all of their neutrality.

Sakura! Not in front of the girl.

The pinkette looked over her shoulder. Midori was nearly curled into a tight ball. She turned back to the woman. "Can I talk to you outside?" She pulled the door and held it open. Her expression was demanding. She waited until it closed behind the woman. She touched it with a hand that was surrounded by blue. She had moved so fast it was as if she did not form any seals at all. No sound would make it through the cracks in the door frame not until the door was opened.

"What happened?" Her eyes were focused completely and utterly on the woman who was the girl's charge.

"You're trouble, is what!" Osono snapped at her. Her tea-stained teeth and stale breath had Sakura momentarily distracted as unwanted memories started to flood her brain. "She got kicked out of The Academy because of you!"

K-kicked out? What?

"Because of me?" She frowned, she was painfully behind. "What did I do?" She was at a genuine loss for how this could possibly be her fault. She had not even spoken to Midori for a couple of weeks now. She had not had the chance to. She had been meaning to. It just kept getting pushed down the list.

"That girl adores you!" She spat the words like a horrid accusation.

"Midori-chan," Sakura crossed her arms and glowered. "Her name is Midori-chan."

The woman sighed. "A few days ago, Midori attacked a classmate."

Sakura shook her head in denial. "There must have been a good reason. Midori-chan must have been defending herself. She's not the type to pick fights. She knows bett-"

"She was defending you," Osono hissed, poking her in the chest. "She was defending you, Mina!"

"W-what?" Sakura blinked, completely losing track of the fact that curious faces had started to gather around to watch everything unfold.

"In class, they were asked to name a shinobi or kunoichi they admired. Someone they wanted to emulate as part of the Will of Fire lesson." Osono pinched the bridge of her nose as she began to explain in a curt voice.

Sakura nodded her head mutely. She remembered that lesson. They had it even when future Sakura was young. The curriculum had really not changed all that much. The First had stressed how important it was to impress upon malleable minds the concept of the Will of Fire. The Will of Konoha as they were the future.

"Some picked the Sadiname or one of the Sannin. More than half picked the Yellow Flash. Others picked their respective clan heads," Osono glared at her.

Sakura's stomach twisted in a preemptive dread.

"Midori," Osono spat the name with disdain. "Picked you when it was her turn to get up in front of the class."

Oh no.

Sakura closed her eyes. She nearly reached out for the wall to steady herself.

"She said she wanted to be just like you. Just. Like. You."

No. No. No. No.

"They laughed at her. They called you names alluding to you being a woman of ill virtue," Osono's lip curled up in disgust. The set of her features held contempt.

"A classmate of hers pointed out that it was embarrassing for her to admit that out loud, much less in a room full of people," Osono got to the point. Scorn. Ridicule. Judgment. Self-righteous. In Osono's dark void-for-eyes, Sakura was the scum of the earth. The very thing that proper women, that real, decent women despised more than anything. Morally repugnant. All because she could not keep her legs together.

"And instead of backing down when confronted with the truth, she doubled down. She dug in her heels. She made it worse. Because someone poisoned her mind, filled it with convoluted nonsense."

I told her to stand up for what she believes in….

Sakura rubbed her forehead. She could picture it, everyone pointing and laughing at Midori. Calling her names. Belittling her. How alone and small the girl must have felt when faced with their ridicule. She could feel it. Her heavy heart ached in her chest.

"She waited until the break to blindside the girl. She tackled her to the ground. Nearly gouged out her eye." Osono continued to add more details to an already very vivid picture. A disturbing one. "She would have too if the other children did not pull her off of her in time. That's where she got hurt. They held her down while the girl she attacked used her as a punching bag."

Sakura covered her mouth with her hand. She lost color in her face. She stared at her feet. Black against the white, white tile. Stark.

"The girl she attacked is from the Main House of the Hyuga clan. Her parents saw to it personally that Midori would not be allowed to continue at The Academy," Osono finally finished recalling events that she heard from the admin at The Academy.

"W-what," Sakura cleared her parched throat, the very one that drank up the rest of her question. It had gone dry in her mortification at what Midori - a child - endured on her behalf. "What about Mai-chan?" She searched Osono's blank face with strength she did not know she had.

"The girl shows promise. She made friends there. She wants to continue. So she will."

"I," she began without knowing where she was going.

I'm so sorry, Midori-chan.

She ripped them apart. Two best friends who were going to live together forever when this was over. Mai had the means to provide for herself when she graduated from The Adacemy in a few short years. Midori had nothing. She had less than what she came into the world with. She was short one dream and one best friend.

"I can talk to them. I'll apologize," she said with a frantic desperation. "Maybe they will reconsider?"

"The Sandiame himself promised the family that the girl would be nowhere near their child. What do you think you could do?" Osono scoffed as she crossed her arms. Her face was more severe than usual as she committed to her churlish expression.

Nothing. I can't do anything…even if Minato can revoke that promise and get her back in, Mai-chan will be so far ahead that Midori-chan will never be able to catch up to her. She'll be left behind. She is left behind.

Sakura. You need to calm down.

How could she? She just tore up a girl's whole life.

You couldn't have seen this coming. Stop trying to take the blame for everything. You tried-

I abandoned her. I ruined her. I failed her. I didn't protect her!

It was never about what she wanted. This is what Midori wanted. This was the path the girl chose and now, it was as if there was no option but to turn back.

"Is there anything I can do?" Sakura asked the woman, looking to her for guidance for the first time in decades. She felt so small. "Osono-san, how do I make this right?"

"I have said this from the start, Mina. You are trouble. More trouble than you are worth. Sure, you have grown stronger but so has your potential for wreaking havoc. Your influence is poison. You are poison. You saw the result of your meddling. Leave her alone, before you ruin what little she has left. Before you turn her into yourself: a bad girl."

A bad girl.

"Okay," she said in a clear voice. She turned around and gripped the door knob with a singular focus.

"What are you doing?" Osono's question was like a lash of a whip across Sakura's back.

"Saying goodbye."

Because the only thing worse than being abandoned was waiting for something that would never come. It was better to have hope shattered with one blow than to have it chipped away slowly over time. Day in and day out; where it took a little piece of you every single day. She would not do that Midori. She could not do that to Midori. Sakura knocked with her left hand, she twisted the doorknob with her right. The soundproof seal broke just as the door pulled away from the frame. The girl was sniffling, wiping her eyes on the exam table.

Sakura pulled the stool with the black polyester upholstery and shiny chrome legs closer to the table. She settled into it, crossing her legs neatly under her. She smoothed the fabric of her black pants, drying her sweaty palms on the material as she did so.

"Am I in trouble?" Midori asked her in a small voice, not quite able to look Sakura in the eye.

"No," Sakura shook her head. A few pink strands of hair moved with the motion. "You're not in trouble, Midori-chan."

"D-does that mean I get to go back to school?" It was nearly instant, like the flick of a switch, the way the girl's eyes lit up. There was so much hope on her face. "Do I get to be with Mai-chan again?"

Sakura swallowed the emotion back down her throat. "No, Midori-chan. You can't go back to school. You will see Mai-chan back at the orphanage every afternoon." Until the girl graduated from The Academy that was.

"Why not?" She frowned.

Because life is not fair. Because you messed with someone with power and influence. Someone who is thought to have more potential and value than someone like you - someone who comes from nothing and no one.

"It's complicated," Sakura folded her hands in her lap. She stared at her fingers. "Actions have consequences, Midori-chan. And the consequences of your actions are that you can't go back."

"But…but I'll say I'm sorry! I'll promise not to do it again. You have to believe me, Oneechan. I won't hit anyone again! I just got so mad that I couldn't help myself. I'll try to do better!" She pleaded with fresh tears down her face.

Sakura reached for her hands. She gave them a gentle squeeze. "We all get mad sometimes, Midori-chan. And we all make mistakes. But some mistakes we can't fix with an apology, with words. No matter how badly we want to…." She pressed her top teeth to her bottom lip and blinked slowly. "Even if we want nothing more than to make it right, sometimes there's nothing we can do to fix it."

"B-but…but," Midori was seconds away from dissolving into sobs once again.

"Midori-chan, you never should have been in that situation. I should not have put you in that situation. It is not your job to protect me. To stand up to someone for me," she grimaced. Midori was a child. She let a child defend her. At least Minato was an adult. He had the ability to understand the consequences of his actions. She had tried to protect Inoichi - another adult - from the distaste her company brought but she completely forgot about a vulnerable, impressionable, little girl.

"Oneechan," the girl uttered the word completely distraught.

"Midori-chan," she inhaled air in slowly. "I'll have a nurse give Osono-san your medication. The cut will heal on its own. It will be itchy. Don't scratch. Don't pick. Leave it alone. If you experience any pain or discomfort come back in. My colleague, Tamoyo-san, will take really good care of you. She is really nice and really great. You'll like her. I know."

"Why can't you?" Midori clenched Sakura's fingers in panic. "Oneechan?"

All contact…I have to cut off all contact.

Sakura, it's just a matter of time. You can't stay. So what's a couple of years sooner than you planned?

Heartbreak builds character, right? She thought wryly, humorlessly.

"We can't see each other anymore, Midori-chan," Sakura kept her expression completely neutral. "That is the consequence of my actions."

You'll understand one day. It won't hurt anymore one day.

"No!" Midori lunged at her, gripping her desperately.

Sakura held her, rubbing her back. "Midori-chan, you're going to be fine. You're strong. You're smart. You're resilient. You'll adapt."

"I-I I don't understand," she wailed. "Why does everyone leave me?"

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Her apology could not fix this, so she was not going to offer a verbal one. But she could not do anything to stop the mental one. The one that was repeated in her head with every breath like a mantra.

"Midori-chan," the words that made this any easier escaped her. Completely and utterly. It was because they did not exist. Sakura was drowning - a lost cause - but the least she could do was not pull Midori down with her. "You did nothing wrong. You did nothing to make this happen. I did. I made this decision. I am the one who made a mistake. It's not your fault. I want to hear you say it."

The girl shook her head. "No!" She sobbed.

"Midori-chan," Sakura sighed. "I am just as Osono-san said. I am just as your classmates said. They were speaking the tru-"

"No!" Midori pulled back. Her face was red, eyes puffy from her tears, and lips set in outrage. "I don't believe it! Just because a lot of people say it, or say it the loudest doesn't make it true! I know you, Oneechan. You're not bad. You're nice. You're good."

"Midori-chan," Sakura felt her resolve start to crumble. What a mess she made for this child. "You only know the side I showed you. You only saw the not-so-bad side. I'm telling you who I am." She did not know where she stood anymore. She could not tell up from down. "Please listen to me."

Was she helping or making things worse? She did not know. She wished she knew.

"Haruno-san will continue to give you baked goods. Anytime you want them. Anytime. You will have the library. You will have Wednesdays. Mai-chan will come every afternoon and every night. You will still see her every day. You'll make new friends. You will figure it out. You will make something of your life. My mistakes will not impact you again," she promised.

"Oneechan," her tiny hands curled around Sakura's white coat tightly.

Sakura smoothed her green hair, moving it from her tear-stained cheeks. She smiled sadly. "I'm so glad I got to meet you. You're a really good kid." She paused both her speech and her motions. She just took the girl in, prolonging the moment. Searing it into her memory. "Tell me that it's not your fault and that you did nothing wrong."

"Oneechan," she shook her head.

"Be brave for me, Midori-chan. And tell me," Sakura coaxed her gently. "I know you can do it."

Midori inhaled through her nose deeply causing snot to drip down the back of her throat. She swiped at her eyes. She opened her mouth.

"It's not my fault. I did nothing wrong."

"Good," Sakura let go of her. "That's a good girl."

"I hate you!" Midori screamed. "I never want to see you again!"

Sakura closed her eyes. She did not open them even when Midori jumped off the table and pushed past her, slamming the door closed with so much force that it rattled on its frame. Midori's sobs and Osono's harsh words rang in Sakura's ears. She hung her head.

I'm - Sakura is - fruit from the poisonous tree. I'm spreading my misery - my poison - onto others.

Her actions became Midori's consequences. And there was nothing she could do about it now.

---

The thought of throwing the scroll in her hands against the wall raced through her mind. She momentarily paused to consider it. But the scroll was innocent. Just as he was shameless. He knew that she would recognize him immediately. Her warding would only slow him down, it would not keep him out. He was more proficient at fūinjutsu than she was. She did not think it was even close as hard as it was for her to admit. If he did not want to completely piss her off, he might opt to knock on her door until she answered.

He had left it to her to make a decision; to pick the least atrocious of the options he provided. Options that did not include ignoring him. Sakura glanced around her room. It was a mess. She did not want him to see the state of disarray that her dwelling was - that her life was. The empty sake bottles and the empty ramen containers spoke to a story. One that could be easily misinterpreted because of how jumbled it was. She did not want him to appear suddenly inside of her hovel, her rat's nest. And she certainly did not want her neighbors to poke their heads out of their windows or doors to catch a glimpse of who could possibly be knocking at this hour. She did not need to be on the end of yet another scandal.

I so don't need whatever this is right now.

She was up to her eyeballs in bullshit. With an exasperated sigh, Sakura tossed the scroll onto her unmade bed, formed the combinations of seals to undo her warding, and shushined to her roof.

"What?" She asked him shortly with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. She was not in the mood for drinking tonight, not by herself and certainly not with him. Even if he had been good about honoring her request; it had been months since she last saw him.

Maybe he's run out of patience.

"I've asked Kushina to marry me. She said yes."

She blinked rapidly. She had not heard him correctly. Her brows furrowed. She studied his face, there was no emotion. Whatever he said had been toneless - completely lifeless. There was no color. His face had not changed. His lips had barely even moved. She was missing something. Context. She was missing context.

Sakura. Inner's tone had alarm bells going off in her head.

Do not lock your knees.

Inner paused as Sakura's brain was sluggishly trying to process what she most definitely did not hear correctly. There was a lag.

You'll faint if you lock your knees.

If she was even slightly more aware she would have nodded her head but all she could do was stare blankly into his face and try to as Inner said.

He's going to be getting married soon. We knew this was coming.

He moves…fast.

She thought lamely.

She swallowed thickly somehow managing to not choke on her own saliva. She could maybe lie to herself but she could never lie to Inner. Inner would always call her out on it. The night air was cold. It nipped at her skin. Her long black night shirt was not suited for being outside. It was not suited for anyone's eyes other than her own reflection's. Sakura placed a house-slipper-clad foot over the other as she rubbed her arm. She could feel the goosebumps through her sleeve.

Why am I not wearing pants? Why didn't I put on pants? How long would it have taken to put on pants?

He's getting married. He's getting married to Kushina.

Inner pulled her back. Inner was not impressed. Inner would not let her fixate on a minute detail that did not matter. Inner would force her to address the situation. Inner would not let her live in denial.

Minato was getting married. Minato was getting married to Kushina.

Only her chakra was keeping her stabilized onto the slanted pitch of her roof. And even that Inner had to do.

Don't lock your knees.

She reminded herself still not fully accepting what was happening. She kept trying - the very definition of insanity - to distract herself. Because it was happening and she was not ready. She thought she was ready. She knew for close to a decade now this was how it would go. But somehow in all those days and nights, all those seconds and hours, she was still not prepared.

Don't lock your knees.

This was supposed to happen. This was what was supposed to happen all along. Sakura. This is a good thing, Sakura. For the mission, for our mission. This is what he wanted.

It was never about what she wanted. Because right now, all she wanted was to go back inside and wrap herself in a blanket cocoon where the problem of the world could not touch her. She wanted to close her eyes and forget. Forget what she just heard. Forget how she was not ready at all. She just wanted to forget.

But it was never about her.

Don't lock your knees. Sakura repeated in her head over and over again.

"That's it?" For the first time, there was something in his voice. There was life. There was emotion. There was color again. Frustration, exasperation, maybe even some disappointment. But she was so far gone that she could not interpret everything else that was being spoken by his person. All that he said without using speech.

Her eyes were on his chest. The green flack jacket of the standard Jonin uniform could belong to anyone. Maybe she could pretend she was talking to Shikamaru - or another friend - who was telling her that he was marrying his girlfriend. He married Temari. She liked the idea of the two of them together. How nice would it have been to tease him about his heart's choice? So much for wanting a troublesome-free life. Maybe she could even muster up a smile if she pretended well enough. Too bad she could not just cast a genjutsu on herself. That would make things easier. Marginally. Potentially. Maybe.

"W-what do you want from me?" She asked in a small, small, small voice that she managed to scrounge together under the weight of his scrutiny, his gaze.

He sighed and even from just the exhale of air the delicate illusion she was constructing from her desperation shattered around her. He was not Shikamaru or another friend. He was Minato. The one and only exception to every rule she had.

He was Minato.

"Nothing," he said tightly as he answered a question that she had forgotten she asked just seconds ago. "I just wanted you to hear it from me."

She nodded her head. She mindlessly tucked a strand of pink behind her ear. Her hair was gathered in a messy bun at the base of her neck. She cracked a knuckle out of nervousness. It was the only built-up pressure she could alleviate responsibly. Safely. Like a pressure valve almost. It was small but it was something. A twitch in the right direction.

"Should I expect an invitation?" She asked jokingly with a dry sort of humor. It did not quite land. He shifted on his feet in a gesture so out of character that she broke her own temporary rule that prevented this from becoming a mental health crisis and looked him in the eyes. Her breath nearly hitched. She was pulled into the undertow of the current of his emotions. There were so many. Even the rest of her lifetime would not be enough to label each and every one.

"No," he shook his head once to the side, decisively. Tranquility won out. There was no duality, no indecision. Just acceptance.

"I don't know why I asked, honestly," she tugged down at her sleeves feeling very stupid. "It's not like we're friends and Kushina-san and I are nothing. So it makes total sense why I wouldn't be invited. I-I just…."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Her own voice cut her off her building ramblings.

"That's not the reason." His voice was so soft that it could be carried off by the slightest gales of wind. But neither of them was that fortunate because it reached her ears for her muddled brain to make sense of.

"You may have never considered me as your friend…but you are mine."

You are mine.

She fought back a shiver brought on by the combination of his tone and word choice. She wondered for but a second if he was deliberate with his word choice; if he knew the extent of her dishonesty.

He would hate me.

"Then what is the reason?" She could not even tell herself what was the reason that compelled her to keep pushing sound out of her stupid mouth. Maybe now that it was happening, she wanted to hold onto the moment for a moment more. Just for a couple more seconds where Namikaze Minato was not legally bound to Uzumaki Kushina. It was just a formality, a method for her to gaslight herself. Their hearts belonged to each other. This probably was not even the first lifetime that was the case.

Minato rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes lowered to the space between their pointed feet. It was not missed by him how they were pointed toward the other.

"It would be unpleasant," he sighed as he settled on the word, "for Kushina to have to see who she knows is my first love at our wedding."

Her eyes widened. She would have taken half a step back - if not more - if Inner had not been holding her in place with her chakra. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage painfully. Her throat completely went dry. The cold air she breathed in only heightened that fact.

Do not lock your knees.

First love.

It was probably the closest she had ever gotten or would ever get to hearing the words "I love you." Maybe in all her previous lives and future ones.

"W-why?" She asked when she lost track of the seconds and her heart rate went down just enough to permit her once again to speak without too much of a tremor in her voice.

"Why what, Sakura?" He asked her patiently, gently. Like she was something fragile and small that needed to be coddled. And maybe she was. "Why did I tell you?"

She shook her head. "Why did you tell her?" Her voice cracked towards the end of her question.

A complicated expression fleeted across his face. But just as quick as the wind blew that blue cedar and ocean breeze on her face, his mask became neutral once again. Closed off from her, giving her no indication of what was going on in his head. The storm in his eyes was gone. She only saw a flat, dark blue nearly indistinguishable from black. So cold. So familiar to a past life - a life yet to be lived - but the face they were on was all wrong. They had no place on the face of Namikaze Minato.

Or maybe they did. Every time he looked at her from here on out. Because Namikaze Minato was going to marry Uzumaki Kushina and Sakura-No-Last-Name no part in their lives, no place.

"She asked," he pulled his hand from his pocket slowly and raked it through his muted locks in the silver light of the half moon. She had asked him when he did not respond to her kiss all those years ago - a lifetime ago. She had asked him if there was someone else. Outright. Blunt. Direct. She had asked him if she was wasting her time. She had asked him if there was any hope.

"And I couldn't lie to her."

"Why tell me?" She blinked back the moisture in her eyes before it could be anything more than a premonition. "All of this. Any of this." She hated how weak her voice sounded. It was the same tone in which twelve-year-old Sakura begged Sasuke to stay. It was the same voice that pleaded with Naruto to bring him back. That same weak little girl that outsourced her problems because she was not strong enough to carry them so she became a burden to everyone around her.

"Why?" Her voice nearly broke completely. She could feel the tears anxious to leave the first barrier she put up. The strongest one because if they crossed the line, she would be powerless to stop them.

"Because despite what you think, you're not undeserving of love, Sakura. You're not unworthy."

Her insides curled and withered at the way he said her name; like they were strangers. Like he did not know her from any random face in a crowd. She finally felt the distance she had pushed him away to.

So, so, so far. She could hardly recognize him from where she stood.

"And I really hope that you believe that one day. I hope you can move forward so that the day comes when it doesn't hurt anymore."

The air left her lungs all at once, without warning or regard for her. It must have been what it felt like when she ripped his heart out the last time, the last time they spoke.

"I couldn't be yours but maybe one day you could be someone else's; that you can learn - accept - being someone else's."

Like he did.

Calm, gentle, and collected. Not once did he deviate from that in his admission. And somehow that made everything so much worse.

Because she was unraveling at the seams, just as she had been when his lips had touched hers. When that barrier was pushed aside by his hungry, hungry mouth. Demanding. Warm. possessive. They were not back in Tsuchi. She was not Akira and he was not Nensho. They were not in a children's book with a simple problem and a simple solution. His control was not slipping. It was in no danger of doing so. He was perfectly composed as he shook the ground on which she stood. The final crack formed and settled. A fissure neither of them could cross. No bridge could be built to connect them.

There was nothing. They were nothing.

Like he did.

She wanted to ask him to teach her one last thing before he officially became someone else's, officially. She wanted to know how to do what he said. She wanted to learn the secret of what he was able to do in a few months that she had not figured out in two lifetimes.

Why…why is it so easy for everyone else to move on from me? Why am I so forgettable? So easy to forget? What about me makes it so easy to let go of…to leave behind forever?

She wanted him to be her teacher one last time, to give her a parting lesson - to give her a scroll or a jutsu - of how to move on; of how to become someone else's. She wanted to know how it was possible to receive and accept love when you had already given your heart away to someone who could never return your affections.

Why am I so forgettable?

She only knew of two times that she fell in love. The first time was very one-sided and she died before it could be anything more. The second time she had awakened to the truth just before something could develop into everything. Both times that she fell - that future Sakura fell - no one caught her before she hit the ground. And maybe the second time was the hardest. Because it was not all one-sided. It was not all in her head. And that made everything all the more tragic.

Why, Minato-kun?

She was his first love. But like her, his second love was the one that everlasted. The second time he fell it was harder, faster, and further. Unlike her, the second time he fell it stuck. He fell into the love of his life the second time; right into her awaiting arms. And she was the one to push him into that embrace.

How was it so easy for you to let go? Did you not fall as hard as I did? As deep? As complete?

She cleared her throat. "Congratulations." She plastered a smile too big, too wide, and too fake on her face. It hurt. But like a mask, she kept it on. She would get used to it. She had no other choice.

Minato's right hand slipped into the pocket of his navy standard-issue shinobi pants.

"Be good to her. She deserves it. I hope the two of you live many happy years together." From ear to ear she smiled. She left before he could see the tears that she hated herself for still being capable of crying.

Minato tilted his head back and looked up at the incomplete moon, expression blank and navy eyes pensive. His fingers curled around the soft fabric of a cotton handkerchief that he had been too slow to offer her. His blond lashes - mistaken for silver in the light - closed over his eyes, heavily. He sighed in a parting, silent farewell. He vanished from her rooftop without a trace.

The sound of a lamp breaking from below did not reach his ears in time. She had to break something and she was tired of it being her heart.

---

Her fingers curled toward the ceiling, the back of her hand was pressed against her distinctive forehead. She blinked slowly. Despondent. The sun had gone down. The door to her empty sake cabinet rattled in only a pitch she could hear. She was unaware of the hunger in her belly. She lost track of the last meal she had. It seemed like much too much work to get up.

The air in her room was still. All the windows and doors being closed allowed for the staleness to cultivate. Surrounded by the exhales of her misery. Her loneliness. Profound. Consuming. Daunting. Seemingly insurmountable. Life went on. It was ruthless, apathetic to her state. It was pathetic. She was pathetic.

She pressed her fingertips to the front of her neck. Gliding it over each bone. Everything was in place. Everything was fine. Nothing was wrong structurally. But it hurt to breathe all the same. She closed her dry eyes. Irritated and red. Like someone had rubbed sand into them.

Who she was when the sun was out was different, completely, from who she was when it went down. She was not sure who was her most authentic self. Or maybe they both were. Her two dual personalities. The very reason why she could not have peace inside of herself.

Inner was quiet as she normally was during the night. But she was there. Always there. Keeping her from dreaming and remembering. Doing her best.

If only she could claim the same.

---

"Hey Loris, you're a girl right?" Kakashi asked her in a colorless tone. He had not worked his way up to looking at her.

She lifted her head up, her hand stopped mid-chop of the carrot she was cutting so that Kakashi could dip it in the tempura batter he had prepared. Only because he had been disproportionately taken aback when she said she never had tempura in an offhand comment - because one thing memories could not do was replicate taste, especially when the very buds on the tongue did not have anything to reference. And while he himself was not a fan of fried food, he had taken up the responsibility of culturing her. It would have been sweet if he had not spent the better part of thirty minutes droning on and on about how she really knew nothing. She took it silently with only a witty retort here and there because the prospect of a home-cooked meal by none other than Kakashi was too good to ruin with her big mouth.

The oil was more than hot enough. The little clump of batter he had thrown in as a tester rose to the surface. She could hear it sizzling. She turned her head and stared blankly behind her mask at him. She was not sure what level of offense she should commit to. He was embarrassed. The slight flush that colored the tops of his cheeks and the tips of his ears spoke to that. She wondered what could have the usually stoic teen so out of his depth. She wished he was more expressive. It would make him easier to read.

Kakashi's shoulders slumped forward. A minute difference in posture was not missed by her only because she had watched it happen. He was getting better. She could see the effects his teammates had on him, more so when Team Seven was together. There was a lightness that surrounded them and lingered in the air. They may be war veterans as barely-teens but they had not lost their spirit. She wished her team, specifically the blond-haired knucklehead she had as a teammate, could see this Kakashi, this version of Team Seven; what they could have been.

Her heart panged a little. She was thinking of Naruto more and more. Everything reminded her of him as of late. Not just the good things and the good parts but the not-so-pleasant parts. The parts that made her not want to think of him at all.

Kakashi took the plate of cut-up vegetables and began to dip them in batter with long, wooden chopsticks. He focused on his mechanics, he was mindful of them so that it would free up his inhibitions enough to do the one thing he had not quite mastered yet: asking for help. Because for this version of Kakashi, it equated to weakness.

"What does one get their sensei for their wedding present?" He asked much too casually for it to be authentic.

Sakura finished chopping up the last of the carrots. She transferred the uniform rectangular slabs to the plate. She tried to think of the question in a purely objective manner, without her emotions. She could only hope that the prolonged pause came across as intentional and thoughtful and not out of necessity.

"Probably something they'd both appreciate," she paused as she racked her brain for something a tad bit less generic. She knew it took a lot for Kakashi to ask so she did not want to let him down. "But I've never been to a wedding before so I'm not too sure about these things." It felt important to be honest with him so that she could model it was okay not to know something and admit it. That was the intention anyway.

She could feel and see his judgment-filled side-eye. He was far from impressed. Chopsticks clicked as he transferred the cooked vegetables out of the oil and onto a plate with a linen towel on it to absorb the excess oil. The teen sighed after dipping the shrimp into the batter. He flicked his wrist. The batter dripped back into the large metal bowl.

"Sensei got me a weapon for my graduation present. Maybe I should get them something like that?"

"No," she shook her head adamantly, picturing Kakashi handing them a haphazardly wrapped ax or katana with a sly, smug smile on his face under his dark mask beside himself with satisfaction at a job well done.

"Why not?" He retorted. "That way they can actually use it in more ways than one. They can hang it up on the wall when they're not using it." The oil crackled when the shrimp were added. He took a step back to avoid the splatters. "It's functional."

"No. Just no," Sakura said with a firmness that would not be swayed.

"Would it kill you to give me an explanation?" Kakashi murmured under his breath just loud enough for her to make out.

Sakura crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. Her gloves hung from her hip. "Try again. Avoid home decor because you don't have the eye for it and you don't know their taste." She glanced around at the gray-on-gray interior of his home. It was neat but it lacked personal effects. It lacked color. It lacked vibrancy and life.

She had no room to talk but Kakashi did not know that. Kakashi did not need to know that.

"Sensei likes to read," Kakashi turned off the burner before removing the shrimp. They joined the vegetables in new neat little rows. "Maybe a book?"

"No."

Kakashi turned around to scowl at her. "Okay, so what was wrong with that one?"

"It violates the only rule. It has to be for both of them." She fought back a sigh. This was not how she imagined her evening to be. She should have just stayed for her shift at the hospital during this period of downtime, instead of letting her clone handle it. But her guilt at the Midori situation made it hard to stand in one place for too long.

"Oh trust me, Loris. It would have been."

She clocked him in the back of the head just as he was turning around. "What did I tell you about reading Jiraiya-sama's garbage?" There were rumors of a new book coming out and she had opinions. He must not be looking too hard if he had enough time to write a whole book, during a war no less.

"It was for them! Sensei is really clueless when it comes to women," Kakashi insisted as he held his head in his hands. "You hit really hard!"

"Not hard enough, apparently," she scoffed indignantly. She did not agree with Kakashi's statement. She had proof of just how not clueless Minato was. She pushed away the memories. She shuddered at his phantom touch on her neck, on her pulse.

"Fine," Kakashi grumbled. "Cold?"

"I'm fine," she filled the two rice bowls with the steamed rice from the cooker. She followed his lead and headed for the table. He began to divide the tempura evenly onto the waiting plates.

"I liked The Mind of a Shinobi," Kakashi pulled his chair and sat down. "It was an interesting perspective."

"Most shinobi aren't very introspective. Even less so when facing up against the consequences of your actions during peacetime, " she clicked her tongue. "A lot of them end up carrying the war for years after the fact even if they think they are handling it by keeping everything bottled up. Until it comes bursting to the surface, usually at the most inopportune time." It was an occupational hazard having PTSD. it came with the territory but denying it did not have to.

"The mind is a weird thing," Kakashi lowered his mask. He studied her hand seals as she put up her illusion before setting hers on her lap.

"It is," she looked down at the meal in front of her. "Smells delicious, thank you for the food."

Kakashi snorted. "It's the fat. All the nutrients are cooked out. A pointless waste of calories."

She raised a brow that he could not see. "You're the one who offered."

"Yeah, well," he looked down at the perfect little dome of rice with an unreadable expression. He sighed deeply. "This is impossible."

"Hm," Sakura nibbled on her asparagus spear. "This is amazing." She tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. "You'll know when you see it," she tried to appease his mind from the constant rumination of what option was the best choice. "I'm sure they'll appreciate all the time and effort you put in." There was a gleam in his dark eyes that she did not like one bit. "No pawning this off on Rin-chan or Obito-kun."

"No fun," Kakashi scowled. He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.

"How are Obito-baka and Too-nice-Rin doing?" She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. She was forcing herself to eat slowly. She did not want him to think she was feral or something, even though she wanted to scarf down everything in sight. Immediately.

"How much time do you have?" He raised a silver brow in exasperation.

She made a show of leaning back and getting comfortable in her chair. She chewed quietly as he began to vent.

---

Water sloshed at her ears as she floated on her back. Tranquil. Without worry and without effort. She moved her hands through the water languidly. Her new routine of training underwater left her muscles aching twice as fast. It also greatly improved her speed. She could feel it. She was fast in the air. Really fast. She raised an arm over her head, watching the water as it fell back into the lake. Peace was all around her. She bathed in it. Cleansing herself in it.

She spun onto her stomach before grabbing her knees. She sank further and further in. Sakura lengthened herself as she tried to close the distance even more. She flipped in the water, feet gluing themselves to the rocky surface. She jabbed the water. She moved through her katas. Her body and mind aligned as she visualized her attacks. In the next round, she would make water clones to up the ante a little bit just to liven some things up. Maybe even throw in a water twister or three. She missed the excitement of Root missions, the thrill of being out in the field.

She missed not being in her head all the time.

She could not afford to get soft now that the war was over. All three of her targets still breathed. And she did not want to ever find herself in the position again where she was back in Orochimaru's base with his experiment. Chakra or no chakra, she could not die. She would not allow herself to die until their futures were secure.

All three of theirs.

---

"A clinic?" The man with thick black eyebrows and dark stubble around his face peered at her through his thick-rimmed glasses.

Sakura nodded her head. She crossed her arms behind her back. "A free clinic," she specified.

"A free clinic?" His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

"For those who can't afford treatment," she went on to explain the idea that the man - the head administrator of the hospital - was growing more and more cold in regards to. He did not bother to hide his inclinations in his body language. It was closed off, disinterested. "It's all in there," she gestured to the proposal laid out in front of him. "It will be purely volunteer-based so all that is needed is supplies, a space in which the clinic can operate, and some real estate on the hospital bulletin boards to advertise the clinic."

"That's all?" He droned. He closed the proposal that was held together by a large black clip. He leaned back in his seat. Sakura's eyes darted to the stack of paper in the corner. The reject pile, where proposals and ideas went to die.

"It will run itself," she stressed. "It will bring good publicity to the hospital, to all of Konoha. Think of the potential Sada-sama," she rocked onto her toes.

"I see it for what it is, Sakura-san, a money pit," he tossed the proposal into the corner haphazardly over his chair. It landed with a crash that nearly had her grimacing.

"It will be funded," she promised him. "We just need space and your sign-off."

"We?" He blinked quickly three times. His dark lashes were thick and long.

"Well, for now, me," she drew a circle in the beige carpet with her boot. "But I am confident I can get commitments from others. Especially once I get the go-ahead." It was hard to get someone to commit time to something that was not concrete yet. She had hopes for Tamoyo. The woman had a good heart, a large heart that had a desire to help those in need and the best part was that she was very competent. Sakura had no reservations about the woman's ability to carry the clinic onward long after she was gone.

He exhaled loudly through his nose. "What is wrong with you?"

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Never mind," he waved off the question as if he was not the one who warranted it to be asked. "You can run it out of your office. The minute it becomes a hassle, if I hear one complaint or Kami-forbid a lawsuit…," he trailed off with a menacing threat.

"You won't," Sakura dipped her head. "Thank you, Sada-san," she walked backward out of his large office, slowly. One with a view of the Hokage Monument. She smiled softly to herself, giving in to the sudden desire to skip out of his office. This was a very, very, very good thing.

---

Lightning cackled in the familiar pitch. The air hummed around her with the residual frequency from which the element buzzed. The heat generated hit her squarely in the mask. It was something to see the distinctive move again. It was more crude and less predictable than she remembered but its capacity to damage was just as potent. Only this time it was not hurled in the direction of a body she cared about. The adrenaline that coursed through her brought excitement.

She ducked down to avoid a ball of flame to the face. A hand came out of the ground, grabbing onto her ankle. She landed on one knee. The sound was coming from overhead now. She tilted her chin up and watched him descend down on her. She saw the wide eyes, the satisfaction of besting an ANBU settled on his face. It was priceless. He drove right into her shoulder.

His eyes widened even more as there was a soft pop.

"A clone?" Kakashi roared, spinning to glare at his teammate.

Obito's red eyes scanned the surroundings. He bit out a curse, loudly. "It wasn't a normal elemental clone. I would have seen through it!" He let out a frustrated growl.

Rin grimaced as she pulled herself out of the burrowing hole that had just appeared. She took Obito's offered hand and was hauled to her feet. They stood back to back with their hands read to either strike or form seals.

They're cute.

They're sloppy. Inner corrected with attitude. Stop dragging this out. You can't stretch yourself out too thin. Not with Danzo wanting you to help out as much as you can in the hospital.

Sakura sighed from her vantage point. It was true. She was completely cut off from Root missions since the war officially ended. He believed her showing her face more would help her case for the title that she still did not fully believe he was going to recommend her for. Loris, like Sakura, was fruit from the poisonous tree but for a very different reason than her counterpart. She was owned by Danzo, molded by him. There was no way the Daimyo or any of the clan heads would agree to that. But Sakura was a healer. The best in the village. Her feats were more beneficial. Even if she was a very polarizing figure no one could argue against her prowess.

He's using me as a prop. I just don't know for what.

The thought that he was being honest was not something she could wrap her mind around. From Naruto's retellings, he seemed to imply that Danzo rather liked Minato. He had no reason to dislike him as Minato did not hail from a clan. He had no bloodline that was a threat. He had no other loyalties but to Konoha. He represented everything Danzo did - before he was corrupted in his pursuit of the Sharingan. Minato earned everything he accomplished. Nothing was given to him, just like Danzo.

So why is he muddling the waters for the first would-be-hokage that is not from a clan?

Maybe he's worried about who Minato is marrying. She very much comes from a clan.

That's true. I didn't even think about that.

"Loris!" Obito cupped his hands around his mouth and loudly called her codename.

"Baka!" Kakashi shot him a look. "What are you doing?"

Obito ignored him and pushed up his sleeves. "Come on out already so we can beat you!"

She smiled behind her mask as his coloring lightened to a thirteen-year-old genin.

"Obito!" Rin admonished him. Her eyes never stopped scanning. "We're not going to beat her head-on."

"We don't know that unless we try!" Obito huffed at his team's less than encouraging endorsement of his strategy. "We tried it Kakashi's way. That failed spectacularly!"

"It wouldn't have, if you did your job and realized it was a clone, Baka!" Kakashi shot back, vexed.

"I already told you it wasn't an elemental clone which my eyes could see. It was a shadow clone!" Obito spat on the ground in anger.

"Guys," Rin tried to get their attention. She tapped their shoulders but they were too far gone in their communication which was rapidly dissolving into a squabble.

"Well, maybe you should have told me that particular limitation beforehand!" Kakashi argued back. He had turned to face Obito. "It would have been helpful to know."

"You're blaming me?" Obito asked him, taken aback at the developments. "I'm not a mind reader! You should have asked! You're the Jonin!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kakashi took a step forward, his curled fist wad dangerously close to striking his raven-haired teammate thanks to his flaring temper.

"Guys!" Rin shouted over them. "Shut up!"

It was much too late even if her words got through to them. The vines had ensnared their ankles. They let out a collective gasp as the ground under them erupted and thick, tendrils of thorn-riddled vines shot them in the air at least a hundred feet all the while wrapping them securely around the torsos.

"Get away from me!" Obito struggled against the dark, thick vine. It was nearly as wide as his head. "Why is it so slimy?!" He asked in exasperation.

It's more fun that way.

"Stop moving, Obito," Kakashi commanded with authority. They were chest to chest and nearly nose to nose. Rin could not help but giggle when a very red-faced Obito came to that realization. He ceased all and any voluntary movement right then. Their orientation was changed rather suddenly and violently as they were now pointing to the ground with their heads.

A black bud sprouted a little below them and off to the right. They watched it warily. It started to grow - age - right in front of their eyes.

"Crap," Obito resigned with a begrudging sigh.

"Indeed," Loris smiled at them behind the mask as she stood in the center of the fully bloomed rose. A deep, deep, deep red. Much darker than blood. "How's this for coming out, Obito-kun?" She tilted her head to the side as she punctuated her question. "I believe this is the part where you beat me?" She buffed her nails on her chest plate, unbothered by the red-faced trio.

"You're so cool!" Rin gushed, admiration filled her eyes to the brim.

Obito nodded his head emphatically, clonking it with Kakashi's forehead protector causing him to hiss out in pain.

"You worked together well," Loris spoke before they could devolve into another spat. She did not have the patience for that today. "Your combo was very impressive."

"Stop patronizing us, Loris," Kakashi narrowed his eyes at her. "You saw it coming from a mile away!"

"Only because I've been watching you all closely in our matches. You're improving. Don't be discouraged, Kakashi." She reached out to ruffle his hair earning herself a dark scowl.

"Thanks for training us while Sensei's been busy," Rin spoke quickly in her excitement. "It's been so much fun. We learned a lot." She turned her head to look at the boys. "Right guys?"

"Kiss ass," Kakashi covered his statement with a cough.

"Hey!" Obito barked in his face with so much emotion that some of it landed on Kakashi's face in the form of spit before it fell to the ground.

"Okay," Loris sighed. "Just for that," she reached out and pulled Rin away from the genjutsu vines by the hand. They parted for her. The brunette widened her eyes as she stepped onto the flower next to Loris. "The two of you will stay here until you can plan nice." Vines slapped across Obito's and Kakashi's mouths, quieting them down instantly in a beautiful sound of sweet, sweet silence.

"But Loris," Rin started to protest. Her worried gaze went from the face to face that belonged to her teammates.

"If you help them Rin-chan," she narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "I'll put you right back up with them."

The girl needed to learn not to clean up their mess every time, just as the boys needed to learn just how unfair it was to count on Rin to bail them out and shield them from the consequences of their own actions. And the sooner it was nipped in the bud the better for all three of them. Bad habits were notoriously hard to kick given more time and repetition.

"I won't help them," she turned back to Loris, ignoring their disgruntled grunts and groans. It was just about as intelligible as their usual single-syllable communication. "But can you at least make them upright?"

"Of course," Loris flicked her wrist. The vines pulled them back. Their legs swung back and forth as they struggled. "I'm not trying to kill them." Loris looked at the two trapped teens. "It's possible to dispel genjutsu without your hands." She paused. The vines retracted just enough to free Obito's left hand and Kakashi's right. "But I'll give you a leg up. Dispel the jutsu together. And before you try Obito-kun, fire won't work on an illusion. So no blasting with Kakashi-kun right there." The Uchiha looked visibly put out at having his plan A scrapped so quickly. "Match your chakra levels as you funnel it into the dispelling. if one of you puts too much or too little, it will bend but the illusion will hold. It's A-Rank so don't think this will be easy."

She smirked. "And to make this more interesting, I'm going to let you guys talk again. But if you say anything mean or aggravating the vines will tighten and the thorns will start to sink in." The very thorns that were secreting a green goopy substance. A substance that burned quite painfully, or rather, gave a powerful illusion of pain.

"How will you know?" Rin asked in wonder, more curious than concerned for her teammates. "Are you planning on sticking around?"

"Kami no," Loris chuckled. "The genjutsu has body to it - It's not purely an illusion." She pointed to the green circles along the length of the vines. "Notice these bulbs?"

Rin nodded her head. She leaned forward on her hands and knees to get a closer look.

"They are seals. They detect heat, heart rate, even electrical charge in the body," Sakura explained.

"No way," Rin breathed. "I've never heard of layering fūinjutsu with genjutsu."

"You're limited to your own imagination, Rin-chan," she smiled behind the mask. The illusion is not really fully intangible. She had used roots and grass blades to make the base of her vines. And that allowed her to imbue her chakra and ultimately the fūinjutsu into it. It was a hybrid technique that the purists - and maybe the Uchiha - would find aberrant. But she thought it was beyond useful in application. The benefits were certainly worth the limitations she put upon the jutsu by attaching it to something physical.

"That's how it will also know if you use your chakra to disrupt the illusion, Rin. When the vines ensnared your ankles it mapped your chakra signature to you. It's programmed in now."

"Wow," Rin shook her head. "You really are amazing."

Loris smiled. She looked at the boys. "I'm not heartless," the looks on their faces said otherwise - the parts she could see through the vines. "If you haven't figured it out in a couple of hours, I'll release it for you and teach you how it's done too." She paused to let it sink in. "Understood?"

Obito nodded first. He was careful to do it in a contained manner. Kakashi's glare lost some of its intensity so she took that as a 'yes'.

"Great," she held out her index and middle fingers towards the sky only to curl them to her palm. The vines were removed from their face. "I wasn't kidding about the insults. Be nice." She turned to Rin. "Come on. Let me show you the healing palm technique."

Rin held onto her elbow as the rose lowered to the grass of the training ground. "I already know that one," Rin said with a frown.

"Yes, but do you know how to do it with just one hand?" Loris demonstrated. First, her right hand glowed green, and then her left.

"No," Rin shook her head. "I need both." She looked down at her hands. She was only able to heal one injury at a time, one area at a time. She had gotten better at triaging what needed to be addressed first so much so that she did not hesitate or second guess herself but she still could only do one.

"Not after today you won't." Loris let out a sound of surprise as the teen hugged her around the middle.

"You're the best, Loris-Sensei," Rin beamed at her.

Loris bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making an involuntary sound.

xXx

"That's it," Loris coached in a soothing voice. "Don't put so much into it that you fall out of balance. You want both hands to have the same amount of chakra going through it. It makes the determination easier."

"Determination?" Rin blinked up at her, taking a momentary break from trying to get her hand to glow green.

"You have one chakra pool. Before the mapping between the pool and the heal areas was one-to-one, now you're stretching the heal areas to two. If you're focused on healing two injuries at once it can get tricky, and complicated to figure out when and where to pool more chakra. Your brain has to do more math. But if you give the same stream you can think you have about half for each hand. You can focus on the injury and not the math." She held out her right hand. It was covered in a bright green light that enveloped all the way down to her wrist. Rin watched as Loris's left hand also started to glow but with much less intensity. "As you get used to it, as you gain more experience you'll be able to do the math instantly. It will be second nature. It comes with time. So we won't worry about that now. For now, we just want it to be equal and the same."

"Got it," Rin nodded with complete confidence in herself, it warmed Loris' heart to see it. She grabbed her left wrist with her right hand. She started to concentrate. Light flashed but only for a second. She pouted.

"Here," Loris passed her a soldier pill and granola bar. "You have the technique down. You're just low on chakra. Have the exercises to expand your pools been helping?"

Rin smiled in thanks before she chomped down on the pill. She started to pull away at the wrapper, leaning back against the tree heavily. "Yeah. I have twenty-five percent more chakra now than I did when I graduated from The Academy."

"That's great."

"I'm getting close to my ceiling," Rin sighed in contentment.

"You're getting closer to realizing your full potential," Loris mused the thought out loud. It was an exciting time to be young and with your whole life ahead of you. "Thank you for working with Anko-chan."

"You're welcome!" Rin practically sang. "She's a fun one," the brunette giggled. "She totally freaks the guys out which naturally makes me like her even more. Are you planning on teaching her medical ninjutsu?"

"She doesn't have the temperament for it," honesty was sometimes the best approach to address a direct question. Sometimes.

Rin chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that. She's brilliant though. She can remember all kinds of equations in her head. She knows more about poisons than some medics at the hospital."

Loris hummed in agreement. "She found her true calling."

"Speaking of medics…can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Loris kept her tone light despite her brows furrowing behind her mask.

"I - Obito and Kakashi-kun too - thought you were Sakura-sensei," Rin said with a breathy chuckle. "Pretty dumb right?"

"Why would you think that?" Loris looked away from Rin, off towards the tree, willing herself to remain calm.

"Well, she's a medical ninja, the best we have really. She is a Jonin. She's really strong. Everyone heard about what she managed to do against Orochimaru-sama. She's not in the village a whole lot. She also uses genjutsu. It made sense when we thought about it." Rin listed the similarities. "She does have superhuman strength though."

Which was something that was not in Loris's official skill card. A very deliberate decision by her.

"There is some overlap," Loris forced a smile on her face so that it could be heard in her voice. "What made you all change your mind?"

"Well," Rin moved her hair from her face. She finished chewing before speaking. "Gai-san was hurt last week. He was being healed by Sakura-san at the same time you were training us."

"Hm." That was also a conscious decision. She left a shadow clone at the hospital every time she was with Minato's students precisely for this reason. An elemental clone would have been more sturdy but it was not without risk. As Obito said, a shadow clone was not detectable by any eyes. So it was the only choice. It just had to be careful around corners and sharp objects because popping out of existence could be catastrophic. The chakra barrier that the clone kept up around her - her own chakra to mute any accidental touches or pokes - went a long way to minimize the risk and she never used a clone when she had surgeries planned.

"I'm flattered actually. That you'd think I was a student of one of the Legendary Sannin." Loris mused. "And such a good medic."

"She's not all that great," Rin scowled.

Loris raised a brow in question at Rin's sudden change in demeanor.

"I asked her to train me a while back before the war ended," Rin sighed as she relived the memory in her head. "And she said no. No explanation. No reason. No nothing. And I know she doesn't owe me anything but it would have been nice to know why. Even if the reason was I'm not good enough."

"Rin-chan," Loris felt something inside of her react rather painfully to Rin's words.

"Because I could have worked on that. If that was the reason, I could have gotten stronger. She just had to say it!" The brunette was really worked up now.

Loris could no longer hear Kakashi and Obito arguing just a couple hundred feet away. "Maybe she had her reasons. Maybe she was too busy."

"Yeah, but that's not it." Rin tucked the wrapper into her pocket. Her face was solemn as she regarded the ground. "Every time her name was brought up or we would see her, Sensei would get really sad, the light would leave his eyes. They went to The Academy together. They were classmates for a little while. But she's always so cold to him. And Sensei is the nicest person ever! He gets along with everyone!" Rin clenched her fists, unable to stand stagnant in her indignation over how her cherished and respected sensei was treated by the woman. "No one has anything nice to say about her other than she's a really good medic and that she's strong."

It felt like Rin had kicked her in the throat. Loris could only blink and sit in silence.

That's what we wanted, Sakura.

It was true but hearing it out of the mouth of a child - because in many ways that was what Rin was as she still had some of her innocence, some of her light - cut her right to her core. She could feel a lash being left on her soul. A soul that she wondered would be in what condition when it was put into the body that would grow out of Haruno Mebuki's womb.

You won't retain your memories of this life.

But the village would. The village would remember Sakura-No-Last-Name just as Rin described. And while good medic and strong were more than she could have ever hoped to aspire to after being born with a disadvantage among her peers, it left her stomach turning in the worst way possible.

She was strong. She was a good medic. She was the village harlot. That was her legacy. That was it. She would not be remembered fondly. She would not be remembered with warmth. She would hardly be remembered as a person. She was not a very nice person. It was what she wanted. It was what she worked toward. It was what she put out there in the word. But now faced with it, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"You're too nice to be her, Loris. You're so busy and you still took the time to teach me things. You've been training us," Rin smiled at her brightly. "You're nothing like her."

Loris remained silent.

"I'm so glad Sensei found Kushina-san. They are so good together. He's never sad around her. She's always smiling. She's so friendly, warm, funny, open, and welcoming. She brings us food and she even helps us fix our clothes when we get them caught on something." Rin ran a hand through her hair. "I'm growing it out so she can teach me all the different kinds of braids. "She's amazing," Rin gushed with a large smile on her face. "You'd like her."

"I'm sure," Loris agreed in a small voice that she managed to sound convincing.

"And she'd like you. Because good people like good people." Rin unscrewed the cap of her water bottle that she pulled from her pack. "How did you learn medical ninjutsu?" She took a drink from it.

"From books," Loris lied, smoothly. "I wanted to be able to help my teammates." Teammates that were either not born yet so they could not speak to her, still alive but not speaking to her, or too dead to speak to her. The synopsis seemed to be that none of her teammates - the people she pushed herself for - were not speaking to her.

"Just like me."

"Just like you," her voice softened as she brought her gloved hand to rest on Rin's head. The lump was gone. If Rin liked Loris - and it sounded like she did - that would have to be enough. It was enough.

"Will you teach me how to dispel that genjutsu they're under?" Rin pointed vaguely over her shoulder in the direction of the teens who still had not figured it out.

"It will be easy for you," Loris assured her. "Your chakra control is leagues better than theirs."

Rin's whole face flushed in response to the unexpected but completely welcomed praise. Rin leaned her head against Loris's shoulder.

"I want to be like you when I grow up," the brunette closed her eyes over her content eyes. The rustle of the leaves lured her to sleep within seconds.

I pray you never get that particular want, Rin-chan.

Loris sighed slightly - not wanting to jostle the sleeping teen - mind plagued by thoughts of a girl with green hair and golden eyes.

---

She thought she had found a way to circumvent the biggest flaw that was associated with her personality when Inner took on her pain. Her emotionalness. It drew bullies, the likes of Ami to latch onto her insecurities and lack of confidence. The payoff for a little name-calling was huge. Sakura always burst into tears. So when Inner could take away the pain, Sakura was quick to ask her to take away the feelings too. To take away her emotions. The very thing that made her who she was. But that did not come without a cost. For Inner to take away the sadness, she had to take away the happiness too in order to maintain the balance of the nature of things.

There was only a differentiation between happiness and sadness because one existed to contrast the other. Otherwise, it was all the same. So Inner could take away the hurt and numb her but Inner would also take away the light, the bright spots that were too few and far between. The very ones that sustained her. Inner could take it all away but then she would feel nothing when she remembered Naruto's smile or Sasuke's smirk. She would be empty every time Ino's words found their way back to her. Nothing when the current Team Seven looked at her with admiration in their eyes. With respect. With trust. With familiarity. She would feel nothing when surrounded by the warmth of their welcome.

She had the answer there and ready at her disposal but it was not enough. Because she wanted to feel the joy of sitting on the countertop, the anticipation as she watched her father roll out the dough, and the excitement of pressing shapes into it. She liked the star cookie cutter the best. It had the same number of points as the petals of a Sakura flower.

Inner could take it all away but the cost was too much. So she numbed the pain herself the best she could. So that maybe just maybe she could feel something other than nothing and that would be enough to carry her into a new day.

Her mouth was cotton dry and she could feel the beginnings of a headache. His mouth grouped around her neck demandingly. Wet. messy. Sloppy. Rough. She stared up at the ceiling of the room she did not know. His hot, wet breath trailed up. She turned her head in time for his lips to find her cheek in too-wet contact.

"No kissing," she breathed.

"No problem," he answered gruffly. His hands squeezed her chest to the point it was almost painful.

Inner could take it all away. The only time Sakura allowed herself to feel anything other than numb - outside of her interaction with Minato's students - was when she was either under or on top of a man. A man she could not even pretend anymore to be someone else. Because as of today, as of right now, he was officially someone else's.

She could no longer think how Minato tasted sometimes of scotch, or of rum and cigarettes. She could no longer compare how his hands were bigger or smaller than she remembered. Smoother or more calloused. That was no longer allowed. Nor how sometimes his lips were thinner - paper thin - or his jaw had more stubble. Or how sometimes in the past, his chin had a dimple in the center. She could not think how sometimes his arms were not as long or as strong as he pinned her to the wall or the bed. How sometimes his fingers would hesitate as they moved. He could no longer fluctuate in height, sometimes deviating by more than a couple of inches to where she did not have to strain her neck so much to reach him. All of that was bad form now. It would have to be locked away with the rest of her memories. It would have to join the little box that remembered the impressions of his teeth in her skin.

Because earlier today Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina became husband and wife in a small ceremony right in Konoha - intimate - because he had three thousand fewer bodies to his name which meant he had less enemies who wanted to see him become the same. And she may be the village harlot but even she did not sleep with married men. Homewrecker was not a label she needed to add to her growing list of sin.

xXx

The tears fell. She was powerless to stop them. The drunken snores of the lone inhabitant of the bed fell on deaf ears. The salt collected on her lips, remaining intact and whole just to illustrate how the same could not be said for her. Today. Just one night she was allowed to cry. Just tonight.

To get it out of my system.

She had told herself. Not even Inner felt it necessary to point out the lie, perhaps because she was too pitiful.

Sakura pulled her legs through her skirt, hiking it up to her hips. It was a good thing future Sakura died when she did. There was mercy in it.

---

It felt like she was suffocating. Her jade eyes filled to the brim with unease kept darting to the walls. The ones she knew logically were not designed or capable of movement but her brain was convincing her they were closing in nonetheless. Her skin pricked from all their gazes that seemed to be pointed squarely at her like she had some kind of spotlight.

Do I have something on my face?

A hand moved up to cover her face but before she could make contact she remembered her carefully done makeup. Makeup she was worried would be over the top - she had bold red lips - but now as she looked around it was not nearly enough in comparison with the fully done-up faces all around her. Even some of the men had more than she did. Their faces were a shade lighter than their necks. Or the powdery residue marred the otherwise pristine and clean collar of their dark kimonos.

Her hand lowered to the chain around her neck. It was braided and of gold. Expensive. A very expensive noose. Or maybe it was more accurate to call it a collar. A clear reminder of who was to be kept in line. She brushed the pink strands from her face. Her hair was twisted into a chignon bun. A very kind lady at the salon had done it up for her in exchange for some ryo when her patron for the evening had requested in writing that she wear her hair up. Ryo that was very well spent now that she had the benefit of knowing exactly what she had signed up for. Her pink hair would have stood out even more, tumbled down her shoulders or would have run the risk of embarrassing the man in a poor-woman's low bun. She tugged at the hem of her too-short dress.

I am so undressed and so ill-prepared.

No use worrying about it now. Lean in. Head high.

She was very much out of her depth. The only lifeline she had to completely not embarrass herself was the near year she spent in Tsuchi. Gou liked to show her off to his wealthy, powerful, well-connected friends. His pretty little pink-haired eye candy. The looks of envy in their eyes were not all too different from the occasional face she had the misfortune of making eye contact with. She could fake it.

Sakura rolled her shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her forearm. She turned to her left completely forgetting the source of the warmth at her side.

"Nervous?" A pair of kind brown eyes behind dark circular glasses blinked at her with understanding.

"That obvious?" She tried to play it off with a small laugh. Money bought a more pleasant attitude from her in comparison to their last encounter.

He squeezed her arm in a gesture meant to assure. "Don't be. You're doing great."

"You're a terrible liar," she shook her head and chuckled with slightly more openness, it was a convincing illusion.

The crow's feet around his eyes became more visible as he smiled. "The night is still young. You might just find yourself singing a very different tune."

She looked around the room. She could smell the money, the influence, the power that was all around her. And nearly every single one of them was a civilian. The most powerful people in all of Hi. This was not even remotely in her mind when she finally agreed to provide the wealthy merchant with companionship for the night.

Like he said, it's still young. Anything can happen.

Don't let your guard down. Don't let your mask slip.

She just stopped herself from nodding her head. He was observant. Keen. Not even a sigh would be misplaced by him. She kept the smile she did not feel on her face. Reserved. Demure. Perfectly acceptable. She only had one objective tonight and that was to not embarrass him. A lot of money, effort, and time was riding on that contingency. The rich had thin skin and large egos. She knew from first-hand experience.

He led her through the room filled with bodies draped in the finest of silks. Her short satin dress was woefully out of place amongst the flowing, deep, rich, regal kimono. They came to a stop at a small round table about hip-high covered in a black tablecloth. Even the table was better dressed than her. The silk was soft under her fingertips and she brought her palms to rest on the surface.

"What will it be, Sakura-san?" He asked her with a pleasant smile and an air of ease around him. He was very much in his element.

"Anything is fine," her eyes wandered to the bar not too far in front of them.

"I would rather you drink something you like," his brown eyes crinkled through the clean glass of his dark, round spectacles.

"Sake," she answered without hesitation. "Warm, please." She adjusted the forest green shawl around her shoulders. It was chilly in the room and it was not just because of the dead-eyed stares from the royalty. There were too many layers and too many bodies. The climate control in the room was working overtime to keep things comfortable for the masses.

"Coming right up," Tezuka, the merchant by trade, moved through the crowd toward the bar. Leaving her parked at the table. All alone to face the full might of the collective gaze.

Sakura lowered her black clutch from under her arm onto the table. It was ridiculous but her dress did not have many places to tuck away things. The kunai strapped to her thigh or the senbon hidden away in her elaborate do had her at capacity. She needed a place to put her hotel key.

Should have asked Kaachan to add some pockets.

But where would she even put them?

She pulled a small compact mirror from her clutch. She opened it and began to fuss with her hair. She adjusted her stance with the mirror in her hand. Diplomats, ambassadors, lords, advisors, the reflection of her eyes widened.

"Is that the Daimyo?" She asked in shock as she lowered her mirror.

The man holding her sake cup chuckled. "It is. Want to go say hi?"

"You're kidding," she blanched.

"I can introduce you if you'd like," he smiled easily at her. Holding out her cup.

Sakura nodded her head in thanks. She reached for it. She fought the urge to knock the whole thing back. This would be her one and only drink for the night. She had to make it last. The ceramic cup rested on the table in both her hands.

Junji chuckled good-naturedly. He sipped his scotch in his rectangular cup with one large square ice cube. "I guess I found what you're scared of."

She laughed as she scratched her neck playing off the fidget as an intentional action as she felt the necklace that rested there. It probably cost more than a year's worth of A and S rank missions. She was guessing. She really had no idea.

"We all have our things."

"He's just a man like any other," he rested his elbows on the table grinning at Sakura's raised brow at both his statement and lack of table manners.

"For you maybe," she mused while bringing the sake to her mouth. She sipped daintily. Relishing the warmth. Her red lipstick left an imprint around the rim of the cup. Her lashes felt heavy from the layers of kohl they were lined with. She noticed it every time she blinked. "But for the rest of us, he's so much more."

Practically a god.

"I suppose," Junji pressed his lips together for a moment before he finished his drink in one gulp. He hissed. His face was pulled into a grimace as the alcohol burned not quite pleasantly. "Would you like to dance?" He held out his hand.

Sakura blinked at him slowly.

"Come on," he moved the appendage up and down with every expectation that she would accept.

She bit back a sigh, secured her fake smile on her face and slipped her hand into his. She glanced over her shoulder at the sake cup that was perched on the table with forlornness in her eyes.

It's going to be a long night.

No one was dancing but that did not discourage the man. Sakura placed her left hand on his shoulder. Her other hand came to rest in his left. His right settled on the small of her back. His palm was warm around her skin. Smooth. They moved in time with the strings being played.

"I'm impressed," Junji somehow managed to make his surprise not come across as offensive. A skill that must serve him well in his line of work. "You are a woman of many skills," he smiled at her with a teasing glint in his eye. She might have even thought it was charming if she was anyone else.

"You're a good leader," she spun. His hand found her back again. He was. He was confident and clear in his movements. It made him very easy to predict. Unlike what this night was unfolding to be.

"My wife loved to dance," he smiled. It was not without sadness. "She was amazing. Taught me everything I know."

"She did really well," Sakura's skin pricked from the eyes that watched and judged. The low murmurs that rode the flow of the music.

"She was stubborn," he laughed. "She told me the only man she would ever dance with was her husband so what else was I supposed to do? I really had no choice."

Sakura's red lips into a higher smile. "She really does sound amazing."

"She was," Junji's eyes held a warmth that was more pronounced than before. It was pulled to the forefront, hard to miss. "How about you, Sakura-san? Do you like to dance?"

"I do," she answered truthfully. "But this is the first time I've danced to live music, I must say. And in front of anyone." Other than Kai but she supposed he did not count any more.

"You don't say," his brown eyes crinkled in delight. "I never would have guessed. You're a natural. You're making me look very good."

"And you, sir, are a flatterer," she crinkled her nose for good measure. She barely noticed how her feet hurt in her stilettos as they moved. She had never needed to be in them for this long.

"Is it flattery if it is the truth?" He stopped moving suddenly. He pulled his hands away from her, half turning. They pulled together and apart as he clapped.

W-when did the music stop?

She stared at the band who was bowing at the applause with a slack jaw, her arms were still in the air. She recovered a half second after registering the fact. She clapped slowly. Behind everyone else. Another number that she did not recognize began to play. It was at the same tempo as the first song.

"Another?" Junji stared at her expectantly, brown eyes glittering under the warm candlelight.

Sakura smiled. "Yes," she nodded her head.

xXx

"Thank you," she smiled prettily as he poured her a cup of warm sake. The air was cold outside on the balcony overlooking the large estate gardens. The music was playing softly from inside the room with the open double doors. The owner of the mansion had a taste for chateaus. No expense was spared to bring some of the architecture synonymous with the Land of Flowers to the Land of Fire.

"It's the least I can do for making you put up with all this," Junji rubbed his hands together before sitting down on the small stone wall that also doubled as the railing of the balcony joining her. "Are you cold?" He began to shrug out of his black haori.

"No, no," Sakura held up her hand. She tapped the edge of the cup with her painted fingernail. "The sake will keep me warm. As will my chakra."

He stared at her blankly frozen in the motion to shrug out of his jacket.

"I can regulate my body temperature," she explained, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. It was not unlike someone asking you to speak a language in front of them like it was a parlor trick or something. Something so simple and commonplace in her life - that she did not even have to think about it - should not have warranted that level of a reaction.

He's a civilian. It's all foreign.

Her expression softened. "I'm not cold," she smiled earnestly. "Promise." She crossed an 'X' over her heart, cheekily. It had its intended effect. The daze on his expression melted away.

"Good, good," he pulled his jacket over his shoulders. "It was getting a bit stuffy back there."

Sakura hummed in agreement. Too many bodies had joined there on the rich, polished wood of the dance floor. She rubbed the back of her heels through her shoes. She touched her fingertips to the blisters, healing them away.

"Now you're just showing off."

She chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as she sat up. "Had I known this is what was required of me, I would have brought more sensible shoes. And a kimono. Context is everything, Tezuka-san," she admonished him playfully.

"Junji, please, Sakura-san. We shared four dances. Enough with the formalities," his tone was light, airy, and bubbly. It was warm like the sake wrapped in her fingers. It was nice to listen to. "And what's wrong with your dress?"

"Everyone was staring," she rolled her eyes. "It feels like I missed the mark on the dress code, badly."

He patted his knee. "I suppose I did drop the ball on that. My apologies," he grin widened.

"You don't look too sorry about it," she grumbled, hiding her smile behind her cup.

"What can I say, after a lifetime of coming to these things they could use a little excitement. A shake-up," he tilted his head back to stare up at the stars. "You were like a breath of fresh air in that room." He inhaled deeply through his nose, expanding his lungs fully to demonstrate.

"Speaking of which," she trapped her finger to her chin. "Is it okay being out here?" Her eyes scanned the balcony. Beyond them and two meticulously kept topiaries in large planters by the doors, it was empty.

"It's fine," he shrugged dismissively at her mild concern.

She did not comment on how she found it strange that he was here out here with her and not in there with them. The people he had come all this way to the heart of Fire to interact with.

Konoha got paid a pretty penny either way.

"I was born into this life with a golden spoon in my mouth. My great-grandfather was a merchant. His son was a merchant. His son's son was a merchant. I am a merchant…." His voice trailed off from the heaviness brought on by his thoughts. Fragments of a lifetime rolled back in his head. Generations of struggle and success all come to one finite point in time.

"My daughter could be the one to break the cycle; she can be whatever she wants to be."

"She's lucky to have an open-minded father like you," Sakura set her empty cup on the stone bench. She crossed her legs over her knee, moving her dark clutch to rest against her hip on the stone. "How old is she?"

"Ten," Junji smiled fondly. "My little Lilly. Yuri-chan. She reminds me so much of her mother that sometimes it hurts." He closed his eyes. His hand pushed up his glasses to his forehead as he applied pressure with his fingertips. "Just the other day my heart stopped. I could have sworn I was staring at my Fumi." He shook his head in shame at the disappointment he felt when the illusion broke and it was his daughter standing there. "We were married for twenty years. Just kids when we got married at seventeen. She was my first and only love. This is my first time being at one of these things without her."

This was the first gathering since the start and end of the war. Having extravagant parties was in bad taste when there were so many markless graves all across Hi. Some holes were barely past four feet long.

"I'm sorry," Sakura said softly. "What happened?"

"She got sick," he cleared his throat. "A couple of years back. Before the war. I actually sent correspondence to Konoha, to your Hokage asking for you. But you were unavailable."

Tsuchi.

She was in Tsuchi at that time.

"No one knew how to get a hold of Tsunade-sama." He sighed, dispelling some of the build-up of pain on his chest before it could calcify - harden. "All this money and means for it to be of no use." His tone was without bitterness as he shared his observation - his plight. Just how little was in a person's control. He learned that the hard way. In the most painful way possible.

"I'm sorry," she turned to face him with guilt she did not need to feign. "I wish there was something I could have done to help."

His lips curled into a smile without warmth. "You shouldn't apologize. You were doing something important for your village, for your home."

She nearly scoffed. He painted a nice picture with his words but the reality could not be further from it.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," he sighed deeply. His breath was visible in the night air. His nose was darker than the rest of his face.

"What for?" Sakura furrowed her brow.

"I'm ruining a perfectly good evening with all this talk of my wife." He shook his head and chuckled hollowly. "For requesting…no, for telling you how to wear your hair. For forcing a necklace on you without asking first if you were okay with any of it." The regret on his face was much too raw for her. "Forgive me, Sakura-san."

"No," she found herself mimicking his gesture with a shake of her head. "I think it's really sweet actually. It's clear how much you care for her. How much you miss her." It was with every breath that he remembered her, that he carried her with him. Sakura played with the borrowed necklace.

"It's touching to see just how devoted you are to your wife even after her…passing. And," she sighed. "The other stuff is no big deal. I would have looked even more out of place without them." She would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

"She wore her hair up a lot and never left the house without at least a necklace," his eyes moved through the expanse of darkened pink, coiled and pristine, captured in place by elegance. "So beautiful," his voice drifted off just as his thoughts pulled him back.

"She was my everything," Junji ran his hand through his dark hair lined with streaks of sporadic white. His eyes settled on the gold around her neck with an unreadable expression. "The hardest part of it all is learning how to be without her. Learning how to navigate this world without her. I never thought I would have to raise our daughter alone. I never thought I would have to get used to her not being there. I don't even know who I am without her anymore."

She sat, steeped in her silence. It was not her place to speak to his grief. To try to make it seem that she understood. Only he could feel what he felt. She did not want to cheapen his feelings, his struggle with her empty sentiment. It seemed disrespectful. So she listened with both ears wide open as she regarded the cobblestone floor of the balcony with a sharp focus.

"Twenty years is a long time," he clicked his tongue. "But life goes on. I have to do the same, for my little Lily. For my darling Yuri-chan." He bowed his head and closed his eyes almost as if he was praying. But she knew it was not Kami he was trying to reach. It was himself. He was trying to keep himself together. The one inside that kept everything going and moving so that he could go about his day without anyone really having any purview or idea of his struggle. All so the ones - the one - that relied on him could continue to do so. It was his hands that spun his daughter's world, keeping it in orbit. He was strong for her all the other days that they were together but it was moments like tonight that made it possible. A controlled burn so that when the emotions sparked up, they did not ignite and leave behind complete and utter devastation.

He cleared his throat. "You look lovely, Sakura-san. Thank you for humoring me."

As if there was ever a choice.

"What was she like?" Sakura's eyes held sympathy as she asked her question when the shared silence became too much. It was crushing him.

"Brave," his smile lit up his whole face. "She was fearless. Nothing scared her. Loud. She had one of those laughs that was distinctive. You could hear it from three houses down. It shook walls, it was that loud. She loved deeply. She felt too much. She felt everything. She was the kindest person I ever met. And I met a lot of people. She was not the brightest but she made up for it in her tenacity. She never gave up. On anything or anyone. Once you were hers, it was over. She was never going to let go. She built connections for life. She loved meeting new people. Trying new things. We traveled all across the lands. Exploring everything. That's why we waited so long to start a family. There was simply too much we wanted to do together. Just the two of us. She sang constantly. Her mouth was always moving. She never got tired, ever. An early riser. When she turned up the charm, good luck because you'd need it. I was a goner the moment I laid eyes on her."

The smile on her face was one she did not have to place there. The fondness, the tenderness, with which he spoke of his wife pulled at her heartstrings so much so that they moved her lips in accordance. She could feel the air around them become lighter. It was less cold the longer he spoke. He warmed it with the love he had - he has - for his wife.

"She sounds wonderful," Sakura said slowly to the ground. The gold chain was twisted around her index finger as she played with it absentmindedly. "I wish I got to meet her." Just her memory - her description - was enough to bring her some comfort. She could only imagine what the actual woman was capable of in the flesh.

"She reminds me of you," he smiled softly at her.

"Me?" Sakura frowned, voice layered with disbelief.

"In some ways," he added with a nod of his head. "Why else did you think I asked for your company?"

Rusting of sheets. Dripping sweat. Heavy breathing. Sights and sounds filled her mind to illustrate just what she thought he wanted from her.

"So it wasn't my sunny disposition that left a positive first impression that you just couldn't forget?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Not quite." He tucked his hands under his armpits. "But I suppose I did not make such a great first impression either." His tone was kind. It lacked accusation or judgment as he uttered the fact. A fact that was hard to argue against.

"First impressions are overrated anyway," she countered playfully in an attempt to not let the air thicken and become heavy once more. She rather liked the lightness brought on by a cup and a sip of sake and the dances. She was more at ease now. Looser than she had been coming into this night, by far.

"First impressions can tell you a lot," he did not quite reach her artificial level of cheer but there was jovialness in his tone. "But to answer your question," he leaned forward, eyes glittering with a seriousness that clashed with his soft expression. "It was also because I saw something in you that was familiar and I gave into the sentimentality."

"Was it my loudness? Or lack of brightness?" She tapped her temple in an attempt to keep things off of her, away from a subject she did not like to engage in. Especially not with strangers of all things.

"Your loneliness," Junji was not deterred by her deflection attempt through deprecating humor. "You hide it well but all eyes reflect the pain of loneliness carried by a heart."

Sakura exhaled all the air in her lungs at once in a white column of warm breath. The sounds of the music, talking voices, clanking silverware, and shuffling feet were all forgotten by her ears. She stared into his eyes, flabbergasted.

"I read people and situations for a living, Sakura-san," his expression was grim. "Like you, I am very good at my job."

Clearly.

She clicked her tongue. Her eyes found the empty sake cup. She wished it was full. Oh, how she wished it was full. She closed her eyes and sat with his words. His observation. She pushed down the lump in her dry, dry, dry throat.

"You lightened my load, the weight of my grief by listening," his voice cut through the numbing silence. "Let me try to do the same for you. It's only the decent thing to do."

You let it.

Let him.

You let him.

He was a stranger so maybe that was what made it okay. Or maybe because she could not say what she wanted to say to Minato, it made it okay to say them to someone else - anyone else; someone, anyone, that did not know Sakura and did not know Minato. Only just knowing of them. There was an unspoken understanding she could feel in lingering vibrations in the air. What she would say was safe with him just as what he said was safe with her. She could not explain it even if she tried but at that moment, when she looked into his eyes it was as if she was staring into a mirror. She understood what he meant. She recognized it instantly. It really was familiar.

He understood.

Her lips parted, a silent permission granted.

"I first met him when we were four years old," she began at the beginning as it seemed like the thing to do. "He was my first real friend. My first safe place in the world. Although I did not know that to be true until years later." Sakura paused to maintain her composure. She pictured the little boy with hair as yellow as the sun and eyes as tranquil and deep as the ocean. "I never met anyone like him. He's smart. He's calm, collected, and cool under pressure. He has nerves of steel. He's disciplined. He knows himself and what he wants from life. His resolve is unshakable. He's steady. He's consistent. He's reliable. He's brilliant. The way his brain works and how quickly it works is a marvel. I always felt like I was playing catch up. Just always a step or two behind him. He's humble. So humble even though he has every reason not to be."

She paused because despite the fact that she was opening up, Junji was still Junji. If he knew about Sakura the Medic there was no way he did not know about the Yellow Flash. And she was protective of that fact. She could not give away too many clues to his identity.

"He's kind. So kind. He's shrewd. He doesn't miss much, hardly anything at all really. He's a good friend. An amazing friend. The kind that would go to the ends of the earth for you," she spoke with the conviction etched deep inside of her bones. It was unshakable. With each utterance, with each admission, it hurt a little bit less. She realized that she liked talking about Minato. She was so proud of him. She wanted to talk about Minato. He was amazing. She did not want to stop.

"When he smiles the right side of his mouth is slightly higher up than his left. His laugh makes me forget the horrible troubles of the world. His eyes hold storms and tranquility. He says so much with just his eyes. He's terrible at naming things. Like, really bad, to the point it's comical. It's the only thing he's not good at," she laughed openly. The sound was so foreign to her ears. If she could hear herself, she would have been surprised that she was still capable of laughing that way. But she was much too focused on the picture in her head to worry about the picture existing outside of it.

"He's stubborn and no one seems to believe it. When he gets something in his mind, there's no changing it. No amount of convincing will do it. He has to be the one to change it himself. He's capable. So capable. I could - I can - blindly trust him. If he says he will do something. He will. It's as good as done. He's likable. Even those who hate him respect him as a person. He's a really good person. His heart is so pure. But he's guarded. He's careful about who he lets inside. He's loyal. To his home, to his cause, to his people. To his beliefs. He's cautious. He likes to know all the angles - map out all the pitfalls - before he acts. But when he acts, there's no hesitation. It leaves you breathless. He's strong. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He'll speak his mind when he wants to but he prefers to listen more than he speaks. He's not afraid to make hard decisions. He does not shy away from it. At all."

"He's a really good teacher. He's patient. He's understanding. He's fair. It's hard not to feel good after speaking with him. He makes it seem like everything is okay. Or everything will be okay. It's hard not to believe that, to not believe him. It's hard not to root for him. It's impossible for me to stay mad at him even if he's infuriating and meddlesome. And stubborn. So damn stubborn. He thinks he knows better. He tends to oversimplify things on occasion. He sees the world in black and white more often than not. He's indifferent to the shades of gray between the two contrasts. He thinks he knows everything and to be fair, he does know a lot. More than most. He thinks he can fix anything, everything. He can be such an idiot for someone so smart but it's only because he doesn't realize how things that come easily to him are a challenge for others but he's willing to listen. He loves to learn. He loves to read. He's incapable of holding a grudge. He…he…," she looked at the silent man who was staring blankly at her. She had almost forgotten he was there. She did not furrow her brow but she was surprised Inner did not cut off her rambling long back and remind her of that fact in her standard gruff manner.

Sakura chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry," her eyes lowered in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to talk your ear off."

Why didn't anyone stop me?

"N-No," he cleared his throat of his stammer. "I just got pulled in," he worked quickly to explain. "You caught me off guard there. You came alive, Sakura-san. It was like watching a flower bloom for the first time," his voice held so much marvel and awe that her face heated up in a natural blush that deepened her artificial blush-covered cheeks. "Don't apologize. Please. Don't be embarrassed."

It was hard not to be even with his earnestness. Her fingers danced at the back of her neck. She pressed down at a pressure point, trying to ease some of the lingering tension in her fame.

"What happened? Junji asked a simple question that had a complicated answer.

"He's happy," she answered anyway, not quite ready to let go just yet. There was still a weight pressed against her chest. It made it impossible to fully expand her lungs. She just wanted to breathe. That was all she allowed herself to want. This opportunity was rare, it was the first one she came across in her life.

Who else could she speak to about Minato without having to utter his name once? Who else would listen without looking at her sidewise or with pity? Who else would just sit with this all and not try to ask her a million prying questions? Who else did she have to say any of this to?

"He's married to someone else." It hurt to say but not as bad as she thought it would. Her voice did not break like she had been worried it would. It did not kill her to admit to that fact out loud.

Junji made a sympathetic sound with his mouth.

"The woman he married - his wife - is amazing. She left me awe-struck the first time I saw her, truly saw her. She's kind. She's brave. She's honest. She's blunt. She's strong. She's vibrant. She's loud," Sakura chuckled, unable to catch herself in time. She did not pause long enough to reflect on whether or not it was more bitter or hollow or genuine. "She's unapologetic. She's genuine. She's unapologetically, genuinely herself." Her pink tongue moved over her bottom lip, moistening it. She tasted the stain and the sake.

She gets to be herself. Always.

"I tell myself I'm happy for him. I want to be happy for him. I should be happy for him. They make so much sense together. They're good for each other. They're good to each other. They are meant to be. I knew it nearly the entire time that I've known him." Her fingernail drew small circles in the stone, chipping her polish.

I didn't think it would be this hard. Why is it so hard?

"It's possible to be two things at once, Sakura-san," he pulled her from the whirlpool of emotion. He was a momentary reprieve. She stared at him unabashed and unaware of just how openly. "I've lived more life than you have, so I can offer some perspective," he rubbed his jaw slowly, embedded in his thoughts as he spun words from them. "You can be happy for him and still be sad for yourself. Happy for his gain and sad for your loss. It doesn't make you a bad person or diminish what you feel for him - what you hold for him."

"I suppose," she spoke with next to no conviction. She did not want to argue. She was tired of fighting. "I'm sorry," she lowered her eyes. The sake in his untouched cup had gone cold.

"Whatever for?" He asked with a severe frown.

"I didn't mean to imply-," she shook her head as a physical symbol of her abandonment of her fragment of thought. She was not sorry for what she said. He was right. It felt good to get it off her chest. She had it bottled up for so long. She was sorry, however, for the juxtaposition of it. At least it should have been instead of the comparison it came across as.

"It's not the same as your situation, not even remotely close," she explained, not nearly well enough. Her mind was a mess. Everything was spilling all over each other. Her thoughts spoke over each other. "I-I," she sighed in frustration as nothing seemed to cooperate with her. "We were never anything more than friends. We could never be anything more than friends," she raked her nails along the cold, rough stone of the wall, eyes and voice distant stuck far, far in the past. In a raging river that had long washed away any proof of their footprints at the bottom of a sandy bank of just how close they had once been.

We're hardly anything to each other now.

But that was hardly fair. He was everything to her yet she could only claim he was nothing. And for him…she closed her eyes. His face greeted her. So grim and muted. So distant. But never completely cold. His lips moved. His voice filled the empty spaces in her mental cavity.

You are mine.

She rubbed her arm, smoothing down the goosebumps that the nippy air could not take credit for. A shudder moved down the curve of her spine. Her black lashes pulled apart, fluttering heavily. The wings of a moth. Flying brokenly toward the source of its demise, its end.

"Unrequited love?" He pried not entirely unwelcomingly.

She shook her head. "No. We loved," her voice broke, betraying her yet again. "We loved each other." She managed it on her second attempt. "Even at the same time, there was overlap. There was considerable overlap," her throat constricted at the memory of his face when he skewered her heart. They were each other's first love. She loved him before she even remembered Sasuke. She loved him before she even had a purpose, before she knew what her purpose was. She loved him before she even knew what love was, what it felt to have love in your life - the love of family, the love of friends. She loved him first but he was meant to love someone else last; for all of his forever.

"Family got in the way?" He offered a common scenario that often doomed lovers. An obstacle that was not easy to surmount and even when it was, it did not leave anyone unscathed. Because he could not see another scenario that could possibly make it all make sense. Because from where he stood, she was in love with him - with this man - devoted so completely that her soul lit up when she talked about him. It all came across through her eyes. Reflective, expressive, expansive, and utterly breathtaking.

How could anyone reject her love? It did not make a lick of sense to him.

Her lips pulled into a humorless smile. "You could say that." She hummed a tune that was incomplete and without direction. Meaningless. "He's where he belongs. He's with who he belongs. I'm just being ridiculous."

Pitiful.

Fixated, frozen in place by something that could never have been. She did not fight for him but the pain was still almost too much to put into words. It would have killed her if she had put in more effort to hold onto him only for the same outcome to pass. Like it always would have. She would have spent yet another life waiting for something that would never come.

"Sakura-san," he said her name with a heavy sigh. "It may not be the same but it is not all that different."

Eighteen-plus years….

"Thank you for listening," she laughed for a lack of a more appropriate reaction. Her inexperience was painfully obvious to her. Never once in all the lives she remembered living, did confessing her guts - what was inside the chambers of her heart - gain her anything but scorn or heartbreak. Sometimes both. For future Sakura, it was often both.

Why could she not learn her lesson?

"Same to you," he held in place with the kindness swirling in his brown eyes, dowsing some of the flames of embarrassment that she felt. She was so exposed. His patience covered her like a warm blanket. Preserving her dignity without making a display of it.

"So I take it this is not what you had in mind when you agreed?"

"No," she admitted. It seemed like the time to lie to him had long passed them by.

"Why did you say yes?" Only genuine curiosity bled through the tenor of his voice.

She leaned back on her palms. Her shawl pooled on the stone between her hands. "You made an offer that was too good to pass up."

"I see." He exhaled audibly through his nose. "If I were to give you a sackful of ryo without any strings attached - not a single one beyond you had to be the one to use it - what would you do with it?"

She could feel the full weight of his scrutiny on her person. "I'd open a children's mental health clinic in Konoha with the hopes of more like it opening up in all the nations," she answered without blinking or shrinking away from the silent challenge.

"For shinobi?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It is awful the burden placed on shinobi children."

There was no such thing as shinobi children. They ceased to be anything other than shinobi the day they graduated from The Academy. They left their childhood behind the day they received their Hitai-ate. It was a binding ceremony. She did not fully understand the weight of the insignia etched in metal until it was much too late.

"For everyone," she corrected, firmly. "Any and all children regardless of rank, status, and name. Open to all."

He straightened his back. A thoughtful look settled onto the lines of his face made noticeable by the stark white light of the night.

"Something like that would have been very helpful for Yuri-chan when she lost her mother. I wish there was such a thing. That someone had the forethought to provide that for children." His expression darkened leaving next to no trace of the jovial, good-natured man she had spent the last few hours dancing, drinking, and discoursing with.

"Junji-san, if I may be so bold," she gauged his body language for any signs of change to his openness, his receptiveness. He did not stop her so she did not slow down. "Why do you still work?" She asked softly. "The trip that we met on kept you from your home for nearly two weeks. Two weeks away from your child." A child with only one parent.

She should have been more worried about how her question and subsequent statements could be perceived but something told her that he would not react negatively to her candor. After all, they had bared their pain to each other not too long ago. They were still those two people.

"It is not about the money," he searched her face before searching the canopy of stars that shone overhead. "It's about setting an example."

"An example?"

He nodded his head. "Money comes and goes. It has no loyalty. One minute someone is a king, then the next they are a beggar. Having money does not equate to anything beyond the fact that you have it. But hard work, a hard worker will make do in most circumstances. I want to show her that through hard work one can always provide for themselves. Hard work and persistence will serve her well in life. And I try to be that example for her."

"Wow," she shook her head in disbelief at her limited perspective. "She truly is lucky to have a father like you."

"I am lucky to have her," he reached into his haori. He pulled out a small photograph from the inner pocket, smoothing it. "The light is…" he turned his head to see a small flame at the center of her palm, illuminating both their faces and the picture between them. He grinned at her.

"Showoff."

Her lips tugged upward of their own volition. Sakura took in the photo of a family of three. All smiles. "Your family is beautiful," she breathed. Her eyes found a woman dressed in a simple kimono - one that did not betray just how wealthy and successful her husband was. She had soft purple hair and blue eyes. There was a necklace around her neck just as her husband claimed there would be. Yuki - the little girl in a pink dress - had her father's hair and her mother's eyes. She was smiling so wide her eyes were barely visible. She was adorable.

He pressed the photograph to his chest before tucking it away back to its safe space. He set his jaw in a tight line. His dark eyes glared at the party that was still in full swing just a handful of yards away.

"The rich pat themselves on the back every year, boasting about what their funds do. About how magnanimous they are. Not a single one of them would ever think to do with the money they have, what you could do with money you don't have. They have the funds and means but not the vision, not the heart." He regarded her face with a level of focus that caught her off guard. "Write the proposal and I will give you the money, Sakura-san. Every cent you need."

"Junji-san," she whispered, taken aback. "Just like that?"

He shook his head. "No. Not just like that. I saw your heart, Sakura-san." She showed him her heart. How could he doubt her intentions now? "Write it, Sakura-san, and send it to me. I'll fund it. I'll fund anything with your name on it." He spoke with conviction. It was a done deal in his mind. "You'll make it happen."

"Junji-san, that is incredibly generous of you to offer," she measured her words; the words that would rein in his excitement and manage his rapidly developing expectations. "But this clinic is bigger than me. Bigger than any one person. You'll get the proposal," she promised. "But don't limit it to a name, to a face. It's much too important to hinge it on something so temporary, transitory."

Life was too short. It was much too fragile and the need was much too great.

He did not react for nearly ten seconds. Ten seconds in which Sakura held her breath only to release it when he nodded his head.

"You're right. I will keep an eye out for a proposal for a children's mental health clinic out of Konoha. And as long as it reaches me in time before my death, you have my word." He held out his hand.

Sakura smiled as she shook it. His grip was firm. It matched her own. Binding.

"Now that we're finally talking business, what do you say we go introduce you to the Daimyo?" He was smiling but his eyes held nothing but seriousness.

"We had this conversation before," she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"There is a room full of people who have spent all night looking at you, burning with curiosity. They will throw just about anything at your feet if you ask nicely enough," he winked at her. The gesture was playful but the truth to the underlying intent was not. It was an opportunity, one that he was extending to her. He was her in, to this world. His world.

"Tempting but schmoozing is not really my thing," she began her subtle protest. Her stomach was already clenching at the mere thought of it all.

"You could have fooled me," his eyes crinkled with mirth, his mouth pulled into a grin.

Sakura huffed. "And here I thought we were having a good time."

"We were, let's keep the fun rolling. Politics can buy you a whole lot, my dear. Might even come in handy for when you run the place." He rose to his feet and propped his arm out for her. "If I got a vote, it would be your name I pencil in for Yondaime."

"Flatterer," she covered for the sharp prick of unease that rose in her at his innocent enough comment. "Good thing that you don't. The hat really isn't my style."

He laughed. "What a shame. It would have been something to witness."

She hummed noncommittally. She slipped her hand into the crook of his awaiting arm. She stood at her full height, a full six inches taller than her natural stature. Elevated.

"We'll start with the diamond heir," he said, smoothing down the last few invisible lines of restlessness in the set of her shoulders. "He's not very bright. He likes shiny and new things. Easily distracted. He's fascinated with putting his name on everything. Like the plaque leading up to a new building perhaps or a hospital wing?"

She nodded her head to indicate that she understood what was being communicated to her. He spoke quickly and low but she did not miss a word.

Connections are everything in this world.

The civilian world was not all that different from the shinobi world. She rolled her shoulders and walked through the double doors with her head held high. His hand on her arm was a reassuring kind of pressure.

xXx

Sakura pulled the key from her clutch but she did not turn around to insert it into the doorknob of her hotel room. One of the three clones had already come back with its findings: nothing. The other two were probably not too far behind. The part of her mind that she could never quite turn off was starting to come more into the forefront of it all.

"Thank you for walking me back," she smiled genuinely as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her bun had come undone somewhere between dinner and her second dance with the Daimyo. She could still taste the Kobe beef on her tongue. It coated the inside of her mouth, like a warm melted butter.

"I had a great time."

"As did I, Sakura-san. Thank you for accompanying me. You made it very memorable for all the right reasons, to say the least," Junji adjusted his glasses. There was a smudge from his thumbprint from when they were almost knocked off his face by an errant elbow. Rich people could not hold their liquor. The party had dissolved into mild chaos and that was when Junji decided they had too much fun for one night. Sakura was not one to contradict him. Her feet were killing her.

"Would you like to," she chewed on her bottom lip. Her red stain was all but gone over the course of the night. She forgot to touch it up. Maybe it was because she did not feel the need to be perfectly put together. "Come inside?" She finished awkwardly. He seemed like much too much of a gentleman to ask - much less demand - outright and she was not sure if it was implied or expected.

"No," he smiled softly at her hesitation. "I am perfectly content with ending the night here."

She relaxed. "Me too," she felt her warm back press against the cold door. He made no move to end the interaction, despite his words. She gathered her hair over her shoulder with one hand movement and spun around. "Help me with this please?" Her palm rested against the door for added stability.

He shuffled closer. She could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. "It suits you. Don't you want to keep it? As a keepsake? Or as a token of my appreciation for casting away the loneliness?" For the first time since his wife had passed.

She shook her head. There was barely any movement. "I'll remember tonight without it. I have nothing to give to you in return for the same." Her smile was soft as she regarded the grains of wood pressed to make the door to her front. "Besides, Yuki-chan might want to wear it someday."

His fingers brushed against her skin. She felt the chain in the back lift, causing what was in front to gaze against her neck. "They make these things so small," he murmured over the soft pink baby hairs, sweaty fingers fumbling with the clasp in the low light. "Got it!" He exclaimed in triumph. The warm chain was gently removed from off of her. He was careful to not let it drag against her skin risking irritation, thoughtful with his patient hand.

Sakura turned around slowly. There was something unreadable in his dark eyes. An abstraction that reminded her that she did not know him all too well despite knowing just about his whole life story.

"Junji-san?"

"Sakura-san, I do not want to taint the memory of tonight by saying this, but on the off chance we could both use a break and you're not too terribly busy with keeping us safe, would it be alright if I reached out?"

"I would like that." Soft and light was the tone of her voice out of respect for the thin shell of tranquility that enveloped them. It was temporary but appreciated all the same. It was nice to talk. And even nicer to have someone listen. Someone other than Inner who knew far too much to be just a sympathetic ear.

The prospect of it seemed to melt away the slight tension in his frame rendering it completely at ease.

"Can you do one last thing for me?" Like her, his voice was just loud enough for her ears. The still night pulled everything else out of it.

She nodded her head.

"Can I kiss you good night?"

She nodded her head once more, closing her eyes, not trusting her voice because no one had asked her permission before. She did not have an answer practiced or rehearsed. Warm lips pressed against her cheek for no more than a few seconds. A thumb swiped at the tear that escaped her eyelid before she even realized it was there.

"Be well, Sakura-san." He cupped the side of her face with his soft hand before leaving her there, leaning back against the rough door with a broken smile on her face.

---

"This. Is. Impossible," she exclaimed with a grunt before unceremoniously flopping onto her back on the lush grass without a concern of hitting her head.

Loris clamped down her bottom lip to keep from sighing out loud. It would be counterproductive toward nurturing an environment conducive to learning. She did groan in her head, however. It was less satisfactory but alleviated the need to pull at her hair strands that were hidden away.

Anko rolled onto her stomach. She kicked her legs back and forth, her chin was propped up by her curled knuckles. "What do you do for fun, Sensei?"

"Sleep," Loris responded in a monotone. "We should try one more time before I have to go."

Anko rolled her eyes. "You're so boring," she began to tug up at the grass by her elbows with a similar expression that she accused her sensei of being. "What's all this 'we' business? I'm the one who has to deal with chakra depletion and burns."

"If you actually did the readings like I asked you to, you would have one less thing to deal with." She crossed her arms over her chest plate. She was without her cloak. The weather did not allow for it. In just a couple of short hours it would be too hot to be outside. Even under the shade of the large elm.

"You're funneling in too much-"

"Chakra. Too much and too fast and too inconsistent," Anko cut her off with a groan. "I know."

"If you know why don't you do something about it?" Loris asked with a raised brow that translated into her voice. Hints of exasperation lingered in the hot air. She wondered if it did any good. Maybe she was nothing more than hot air to the girl.

"I thought we agreed that I'm not cut out to be a medic," Anko pouted with no real commitment to her mood yet beyond 'over it'. The impromptu break was just what the doctor ordered.

"Did you eat breakfast this morning?" Loris's lips were set in a frown. It was not like Anko to be so listless to the point she was almost lethargic.

Do you really have the right to ask anyone that?

"Yes, mom," Anko bit out sarcastically. "I'm not good at this okay?" She blew out a raspberry. She wrinkled her nose. "The fish smells. My back hurts. And my hands are fried. Can we go back to the poisons, taijutsu, or evasion training? You know? The stuff that doesn't require me to stand around wasting chakra on something I'm not gonna get?"

That explains it.

If she were alone, Loris would have slapped her forehead at her oversight. Insecurity. It was rearing its ugly head and she completely missed it. Sympathy filled her stomach for her future sensei. She should not have been so hard on him. It was taxing to find different ways to motivate her unofficial students. Rin and Anko could not be any different if they tried. Rin excelled with praise. She devoured knowledge with a hunger that could not easily be satiated. All Loris had to do was give her resources and answer her questions. But Anko…words of encouragement did very little for her. And she acted like she was allergic to paper. If she could stay awake long enough to get past the first few characters.

"You need to know the basics, Anko-chan. Just enough to cover first-aid. That's all, I promise. I won't make a medic out of you. The healing palm technique and a toxin purge make up the entirety of the list," she paused. "If you're serious about being a Chunnin that is."

"You know I am," Anko glared at her mask. She held out her hand lined with chakra burns hidden behind white bandages. The girl refused to let her heal it .

"Get up then. You're a ways away from being able to heal them yourself."

Anko shot to her feet. She presented her back to the ANBU in the tree. Her lips were set in a firm line of disapproving concentration. She set her hands - one on top of the other - over the fish surrounded by a seal on a scroll on top of a rock turned into a wooden table. Loris began to read out loud the contents of the scroll, occasionally offering critique or construction to the girl's method.

The box containing two sticks of tri-colored dango was tucked away in her hip pouch. She had every intention of sharing one with Anko, whose hands were flickering green. In and out. In and out. Loris smiled after a few tens of minutes when the flow of chakra was steady enough to light green for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Atta girl, Anko-chan. Just like that.

---

Her blunt nails tapped on the surface of her desk. Pressed wood. A pipe was leaking in the corner. There was a bucket placed under it. Maintenance would get to it when they got to it. That was the official status report from the head of administration. Which meant they would only address it when her office flooded and maybe not even then. Maybe they would wait for the whole wing to be ankle-deep in water before lifting a finger. She, herself, was far from handy so the bucket was a passing solution. She only had to empty it out every other day.

Drip. Silence. Drip. Drip.

That part was not the greatest but she managed with worse. Her desk was clear. The paperwork was done. She made her rounds. She saw her usual patients. She did inventory. She checked the stash of anti-venom that never implicated or stirred reason for suspicion. Her shift ended a couple of hours ago. Her time was blocked off for a very specific purpose. But so far all she managed to do was disappoint herself. Which was mildly surprising.

You should take a nap.

She had contemplated it. Inner would wake her up before anyone saw her but she was too restless. Despite her exhaustion, it was when she sat still that she felt at her most powerless. She hated it. So she filled the hours of her day and her nights until she simply had no choice but to completely collapse and recharge. A hard reset of sorts. It was not sustainable but it was where she was at these days. Inner could keep her from remembering and dreaming but even Inner could not tame the swarm of bees that her thoughts in her mind had become.

It did not help that the drip, silence, drip, drip of the water in the corner and the tick, tick, tick of the clock behind her amplified the loudness of passing time. No matter how fast she became or how strong, she could not fight time. She could neither slow down the clock nor speed it up.

Her ears picked up the sound of footsteps, her back straightened as a result. The tapping of her fingers stopped. She held her breath. Her green eyes were trained to the open door. She waited. The steps got louder. Closer. Questions started to collect in her mind and piled up all the way to the tip of her tongue. She would definitely start by asking if they had any trouble finding the location followed closely by if the fliers she posted on the bulletin boards were clear enough after she finished her medical assessment of course. Her curiosity could not get in the way of patient care.

The footsteps had not ducked into another room. They were louder and louder and louder. Drip, silence, drip, drip. She fell back into the seat she was hovering in. A head of orange hair attached to a symmetrical face with gray eyes appeared in the doorway.

Better luck next time, Sakura.

"Anything?" Umika asked in a reserved voice.

The answer was very much obvious to both of the women. But Sakura shook her head and made it official anyway.

The medic sighed. "Give it some time, Sakura. It has not been that long," her lips pulled into a smile that was not nearly convincing enough.

"You're right, Tamoyo-san," the pink-haired medic - two years junior to the woman with orange hair - mimicked the smile free of warmth. It had been two weeks. More than enough time for at least one patient to come her way.

They only want me when they're dying.

When no one else could help them or save them, that was when they looked to her for help. And her clinic, her free clinic, was not equipped for those cases. Because a majority of those cases would need equipment and would require inpatient care. Things that were expensive, things she did not have the authority to provide without consultation. Things that if she provided would eat into her savings quicker than termites taking to untreated softwood.

"I'll keep spreading the word," Umkia patted the folders she was holding to her chest. "Chin up, Sakura."

The pinkette nodded her head. She resumed tapping her fingers long after Umika's footsteps were nothing but a distant memory.

---

It was in her head. She knew it was in her head but she could hear the sound dampening of the seal. Her mask - her shroud of plausible deniability - hid her eyes that darted along the far wall of the room. As much as she could take in without moving her head. Her ears listened to his voice - a voice that never failed to get her blood simmering no matter the external temperature or circumstance - as he went over the mission requirements. It was simple. Not just appearing simple. The mission was actually simple. She was to retrieve an item and bring it back to him. No espionage. No manipulation. No death. No mess. No fuss. No complications.

She had developed a radar out of necessity. Eight times out of ten she could suss out with about seventy-five percent accuracy when he was not giving her the full story - rather, when a mission would turn out to be something more because Danzo did not give anyone the full story. She knew when she could coast and let a clone handle the official mission while she pursued her own and when not to push it. It was a matter of survival. She was his pet. Her job was to please him. To serve him. Nothing more and nothing less - officially. So she learned to read him, to think like him. She learned to anticipate his needs so that she could deliver them - fulfill them - before he had to ask. Because if he had to ask, she was already at a disadvantage. And she could not afford those anymore. The grace period for making mistakes was over. There was no war she could use to muddle the waters anymore.

He was watching everything closely. Everything was right where he wanted it to be. Not a hair was out of place on his head. He was behaving himself with the selection of the next Yondaime not too far off. Danzo was a patient, patient, man and despite the universe trying to kill him, he had longevity.

He's like a damn cockroach. Filthy. Scum of the earth. Immortal.

Still, we can learn a lot from him.

Specifically his patience and his ability to lay down the foundation - the groundwork - for plans that took decades to unfold. She needed that. She needed her plans to outlive her. What good would Naruto's parents surviving the Kyuubi escape do if they died before the boy reached adulthood? Before they met their grandchildren?

No good. The answer was no good.

"It has come to my attention that you met the Daimyo?" The words were uttered with a colorless tone, his eye was flat but she saw it for what it was. An accusation. Something he did not account for. And that was unacceptable.

"I did," she counted to three in her head slowly. "I was escorting Tezuka Junji, a wealthy merchant in the lumber trade, for the evening. He introduced us."

"And you did not feel the need to inform me?" Danzo tapped his staff out of habit or anger; she was not sure. Maybe it was both. Tap. Tap. His hands settled over the simple hilt.

She kept her eyes trained on them, head bowed slightly in the stance of subordination. Out of habit or self-preservation; she was not sure.

"It did not feel urgent, Shimura-sama," she settled on this particular approach. "The nature of the meeting was not political, economic, or martial. It did not seem relevant." She did not move when he encroached on her space. The hit of his staff grazed her navel.

Inner worked to regulate her heart rate while Sakura locked all her joints, save her knees in place.

"What was the nature of the meeting?" His breath was felt her eyelids. Never had he been so close to her before. Not completely. Not like this.

Fear trickled down her spine. Fear of venturing off the containment zone of what was familiar, known.

"Casual acquaintance," her voice did not fluctuate despite her sinking stomach that still had not bottomed out yet.

"What did you casually converse about while acquainting yourself with the most powerful man in all of Hi? The very one that ultimately decides your fate and role." His eye narrowed and for a split second, she had a flashback to seeing crimson through a blank white mask. Her chakra pushed to the edge of her skin from her coils out of pure instinct. No genjutsu was going to catch her off guard. Bandage barrier or no bandage barrier.

"We didn't speak all that much," Loris's modified voice pushed through the hole in her mask. "He asked me how I liked the party. He asked me how Konoha was doing. He asked me to give the Sandaime his regards. It was very tongue-in-cheek. He seemed eager for the period of the Yondaime." He also made no references to whether or not she knew who she was. If Danzo publicly endorsed her already, the Daimyo was a very capable actor. And that thought was incredibly unsettling. "He thanked me for my efforts in the war," as a kunoichi. It was all very generic and tame. "And thanked me for the dances and we parted ways."

"That is all?" He pressed, voice low with an edge to it that had her adrenaline kicking up a notch.

"I did what I was asked to, Shimura-sama." She blinked slowly as she looked over his shoulder at the blank spot on the wall.

"Which was?"

His patience was held together by a single thread of frayed rope. She could not help but pull it a little further apart. Testing boundaries each and every chance that she believed she could get away with.

"I charmed him," Loris smiled behind her mask. She charmed them all.

Danzo blinked. Once. Twice. It was on the third blink the surprise wore off to something akin to smug satisfaction. A misunderstanding she did not bother to correct. Why would she? She was the one after all, who cultivated it.

"Don't get overconfident, girlie," he peered into her eyes through the mask. "One of these days, that mouth of yours will not be able to save you." His eye lowered to that part of her mask.

Inner's low growl that rang in her ears was essentially feral.

Her silence was accepted. It was the only acceptable response.

"I expect you back before the seventh day." Danzo turned around and walked to his desk, resting his staff across it.

She was gone before it settled. She had to notify a couple of people about her absence. A silver-haired Jonin and a purple-haired Chunnin-hopeful. She pretended not to hear the voice in her head that said Anko would know eventually through Rin from Kakashi - because every second spent in Konoha meant a second not spent searching - all because maybe, she just wanted some dango. It was considered incredibly rude to show up both unannounced and empty-handed at someone's doorstep, after all.

I'll just have to pick up the dango before the salt-broiled saury.

It would be worth it.

---

She brought her fingers to her ear, pressing the communication device there. "Southeast well, in position."

"Northwest, in position," a voice in identical pitch and tone said after some moments.

There was static over the line. "Southwest, in position."

"Northeast," the first voice called out. "What is your status?"

"Need a second," a voice grunted in exertion. "This place is built like a maze!" Sakura complained loudly.

"You'd think you'd be used to it by now." The first Sakura spoke again with clear irritation. Irritation that she could not call Sakura four names without implicating herself. It was all very annoying.

"I think I hear you," the Sakura who had reported to be in the southwest stop spoke, mercifully with only intentions to help remedy the situation and not actively make it worse. She turned her head. "Make a left…right now!" She barked the order.

The clone did not think. She made a hard turn, grabbing the wall to carry her momentum with her.

"Thanks!"

Water kissed her ankles as she stood in the large lake. Her chakra kept her from falling into it completely. The wind moved all around causing her loose garbs to futter around her. She waited for confirmation. She was exposed to the elements despite her thin layers of illusion obscuring her person. She was not sure when she became more comfortable being underground than above it.

Maybe right around the time, you became more comfortable being Loris than Sakura.

"Here!" The voice finally called out, saving her from having to think of something to say or being judged for her silence.

"On three," Sakura said calmly as she directed her clones. "One. Two. Three."

There was a deafening rumble that reached her ears. The foundations of the reinforced base shook and creaked but they did not bend. The clones dissolved into the earth as the ceiling shook.

Sakura strung the three seals together. "Water Release: Tornado of Water." She could feel the still start to break on the surface of the lake. She braced herself as she moved with the water. It surrounded her. She rose and rose as the water lifted her higher and higher. She kept her hands in a Ram Seal as she continued to climb. Her eyes never left the tiny spot she marked as her target. She broke the seal. The water crashed back down with force but not as fast as her. Sakura twisted her body. She fell to the ground head-first. Tears formed in her eyes from the force. Her ponytail streaked behind her. She fought gravity and speed as she cocked her fist back. Blue light covered it.

She pushed it forward with grit teeth.

Shannaro!

There was a crack, small and unassuming. She used the force of her own impact to propel her in the opposite direction, back into the air using chakra to cushion anything she could. Hitting the ground at one hundred kilometers an hour would hurt. A lot.

The ground exploded. It left her breathless. She shushined half a mile away. She held onto the tree. The sound was deafening. She thought she might have actually ruptured something.

Damn, I forgot how destructive you are.

Looking around she could not help but agree. She had forgotten herself. Even when she held back. It felt good. For a second it felt really good. She took in her work with eyes that saw it for what it was: impressive.

Minutes. The ground needed minutes to stop shaking. Even longer for the last aftershock to settle. An earthquake of at least a magnitude of eight all from her tiny fist and her seal. She sighed as she looked at her mangled hand, it was a garish enough sight to make anyone lesser to lose the contents of their stomachs. The bones were broken even with the reinforcement of chakra. The skin had completely torn off.

She cradled it to her chest as she shushined back to the site of the damage, just standing at the edge of it. She swiped at the blood with her right hand before using it to make seals. She pressed her palm on the ground. The small toad, the color of sage green, blinked lavender eyes at her in boredom. It took one look at her hand before it turned around at the sound of a boulder coming to a stop.

Water from what had been in the lake filled the fissure of what she had created. A sinkhole whose depth probably was over seven hundred yards, if she had to hazard a guess. A very convincing sinkhole. One that people from all across Hi would come to have their picture taken in front of. And some idiots would get too close and die in it.

The very thought seemed to occur to her summon. "Yikes," he jumped back, not trusting the stability of anything at this point. He gawked at her. "Another base."

"Hm," she reached into her pouch with a sigh. "Give this to Jiraiya-sama." She tossed him the scroll. Toshi caught it with his tongue. "Make sure he reads it. It's time-sensitive."

"Sure," Toshi ran his tongue around his large mouth - in comparison to his compact body - as he measured his words. "What's with the sudden urgency, Sakura? This is the second base."

"We still have five more to take off the map." Her voice was level and composed. There was a lack of emotion in her conduct.

"A prison break leading to a fire, and now an earthquake and a flood," the toad grumbled in a deep baritone.

"A bit of unfortunate luck," Sakura smirked with no shortage of confidence. Toshi did not find it reassuring. If anything his concern only grew.

"If he did not know before, he will be suspicious now." The amphibian rubbed the back of his dry head. He suddenly understood why Gamabunta smoked. Dealing with humans was stressful. He could corroborate with her handler her whereabouts and put the simple math together. Bad things happened to his base when Loris left Konoha.

"Let him be," Sakura reached back into her pouch. The flippant disregard she had for her actions spoke to a mental state that he was not qualified to label. "Give this to him as well." She revealed two vials. One was filled with an all-too-familiar crimson substance and the other was clear.

"Blood?" Toshi's lips pulled downward slightly in what was a frown.

"A contingency," she explained without really explaining. "In case everything goes to shit."

She shook the clear liquid in her hand. "This is anti-venom. Tell him to take it before. Just a drop each, Jiraiya will need two given his size. There's enough for everyone. It's tasteless and odorless. No one will notice. It's susceptible to heat. It will lose its integrity and effect. Tell him not to put it in the tea. Cold liquids only." She eyes his blank expression. "It's all explained in the scroll."

"Also a contingency?" Toshi asked her slowly.

"You're learning," Sakura said with a nod and a small half-smile.

"For the slug?" Toshi pointed his tongue toward the blood. "Why? How will the jutsu know what to summon? Don't you need the seal or something? Are you planning on not being around?"

"Too many questions," she said in a curt tone to stress just the lack of time. "Intention is everything when doing a summon, when making the seals they will just have to think about Katsuyu-sama and she will show up. Not the battle-size one but the human-sized version. When the summoning is attempted, I'll give the rest of my chakra when I sense it through this," she tossed him a scroll with her uninjured hand. It was smaller than the information scroll. It was blue to the other's green.

"Tell him to wear a gas mask. He should have thirty to forty seconds after the poison is airborne and breathed in to get it on. Tell him to put his own on first before helping anyone else. It's in the scroll. The instructions and the gas masks themselves. Again enough for everyone. He'll know how to get them unsealed."

She sighed. "And don't worry. I don't plan on dying just yet."

There's still so much to do.

"When you say stuff like this how can I not?" His rhetorical question was left unaddressed. He secured the scroll and the two vials. "He'll get them."

"Good. Tell Jiraiya-sama to stay close to the summit. To be in the room if he can. As security for the Hokage." She gave her suggestion as an order for both the toad and the toad sage. "Once he reads the scroll it will all make sense."

If he gets through the whole thing.

We are not having this discussion again. More information is better than less.

You could have given him bullet points. Or drawn lewd doodles in the margins at least. Something to keep his attention.

Kami, Inner…you're probably right but it's too late now.

"You mean the selection panel for the Yondaime." His lavender eyes sharped.

"I said what I said," Sakura looked over her shoulder. "Minato can't know. Not yet." The timing was all wrong. He needed stability during the transition period. Konoha needed stability. Orochimaru could wait.

"Unless it all goes to shit?" Toshi blinked slowly at her.

"If it all goes to shit," she chewed on her bottom lip. "Then everyone will know. Now, go."

There was a soft pop that spoke to her order being accepted.

Let's hope it doesn't come to this.

She was tipping her hand if it did.

Better than Orochi being named the future Yondaime.

Because there was no world or scenario where it would be her. The Daimyo seeing her in that little black, backless dress sealed her fate. His first introduction was not with Sakura-the-medic or even Sakura-No-Last-Name but with Sakura-the-woman. And it would be impossible for him to see her as anything but. Because a tiny woman in an even tinier black dress was not the picture anyone wanted to have in their head when thinking of a leader of the largest shinobi village in all the lands. No matter what merit her accomplishments stood on. He accepted Tsunade not because he wanted to but because he had to. That was not the case now. Minato was simply too strong of a candidate. She owed Junji many thanks, for more things than one.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

The only thing we can count on is Hiruzen's weakness. But even he can't afford to do nothing if Jiraiya reveals the evidence with the Daimyo and the leaders of Hi in one room.

If he does…I'll just have to kill Orochimaru and Danzo myself. Sooner rather than later.

If protecting Konoha meant defecting and playing outside of the rules she was prepared to do just that. There were no guardrails anymore.

By the time she lowered her left hand to her side, it was completely healed. The skin was without a cut or blemish. Jade eyes glittered from the light of her determination.

---

Gray eyes held hesitation. "Sakura, this is not the reaction I was expecting when I told you," Umika's full lips painted in a soft, glossy pink, frowned. It was supposed to be a good thing. All her previous excitement was nothing more than a memory. A moment passed with only heaviness filling the void left behind.

"It's hard to argue with fact, Tamoyo-san. In the days I was gone on my last mission and you covered for me, the clinic had six patients come in." She smiled her artificial smile that was convincing. "Six people that got help that they otherwise would not have. That's a really great thing."

"I," Umika shook her head. Her short orange hair curled toward her chin, barely grazing it. "It's your idea. It's funding you secured. You did all this work. It feels wrong." The woman crossed her arms only to lower them to her side again quickly. She was the picture of indecision.

Sakura's eyes softened. They only held acceptance. "It doesn't matter who runs it," she said in a level voice free of negative emotion. Blank. Empty. "It just matters that it runs." Her smile grew in size just as her eyes became more strained. "You'll do great. I have the utmost faith in you, Tamoyo-san." She looked around the office. Her office. "You can continue to use this location." It was not like her name was on the door.

"Sakura," Umika kissed her teeth with ample reluctance. "Are you sure?" Her gray eyes searched the pinkette's face.

"I'm sure," she smiled.

It's better this way.

Sakura….

I'm okay.

Inner did not comment on the blatant lie.

---

He was not subtle about his sudden appearance. It was contradictory because he had gone to the effort to make his chakra signature to that of a genin. Non-threatening but the killer intent he filled the room with was anything but. She did not turn around when the door closed. However, she did pinch her shoulder blades together when the sound of the lock engaging filled the quiet room.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She did not look up from the clipboard that she was marking inventory on. Her back was to him. Her spine was set in a line of defiance. He was in his prime sure but she was the strongest she had ever been. And the most clear-headed too. She refused to be scared anymore.

"My, my," Orochimaru leaned back against the metal door. Almost hissing at the cold temperature. His eyes narrowed in on her person like he was trained on her heat source. He crossed his arms leisurely. "Such a diligent individual."

"Hm," Sakura tucked her pen behind her ear before she half turned to face him. Her boots clicked. Every sound was amplified. It took quite the effort to appear so unbothered. But the flicker of something dark across his eyes made it worth it. She set the clipboard down and started to roll her neck and shoulders. "Sorry, Orochimaru-sama," she smiled at him breezily. "I didn't get a chance to get my stretches in today. I hope you don't mind." She lifted her hands over her head, interlacing her fingers before turning her wrists.

"Don't mind me." The right side of his lips was higher than the left as he smirked at her watching with calculated interest. Like he was taking pleasure in watching his prey be terrorized before he struck.

"Thanks," she tilted her neck. There were two distinctive cracking sounds. But she did not stop there. She held his gaze as she cracked her knuckles. It echoed like pulses out of a chakra cannon.

"You were saying?" Sweet like marmalade was the pitch of her voice. It hid the rancor suspended in the sticky substance. Her very real animosity.

"I just wanted to get your side of the events," he countered in a smooth voice that slithered into her ears like a worm that she could never truly rid herself of. It was out of sight but quite literally top of mind.

"I'm sorry?" She blinked slowly in a demure fashion. "I'm a little lost."

His smirk grew almost taken on a more sinister edge. "You don't seem lost to me. Perhaps a little behind?"

"Orochimaru-sama," she rolled his name off her tongue slowly collecting the bitter taste in her mouth, letting it marinate her words. "I'm afraid," she paused with a tight set of her jaw, "that you're going to have to give me a little bit more."

He pushed air out of his nose loud enough for her to hear the condescending scoff. The intensity of the killed intent grew in magnitude. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from visibly reacting.

"I can do that for you," he took three steps toward her before stopping in the middle of the lab. "It appears," he touched the tip of his tongue to the middle of his top lip. She was mildly surprised that it was not in fact, forked. "That the summit was quite the spectacle."

Sakura. Inner's tone was laced with warning.

Her palms began to sweat. She did not hear anything. Not from Jiraiya, not from a summon, not even from Danzo as they were still on their way back to Konoha from the capital. She smoothed the fabric of her top with her palm, passing off the wipe to dry her hand convincingly.

They're fine. He didn't kill them all.

Even as she thought the words, she pictured it. Their bodies blooded. Eyes wide open. Faces frozen in shock, fear, or pain. Maybe all three. Mutilated corpses. The harder she tried not to think about it, the more grotesque the pictures in her head became.

She inhaled.

Jiraiya trusted her. He would not disregard her warning, her concerns. Her preparation. He was smarter than that. He made it all the way up to his fifties without her. Decades longer than she did.

Just how shitty did shit get?

"What does that mean, Orochimaru-sama." Her eyes threw heat. "Exactly."

He was impressed at her ability to withstand his aura, his display of prowess. She was not future Sakura, she was not that genin who froze up the first time she saw him in the Forest of Death. And she would never allow him to put her in that position again. She was not going to regress.

"You are quite the enigma, Sakura-chan," he chuckled humorlessly. His eyes did not lose their calculating edge. She was some puzzle for him to put together. Or a brain teaser to figure out. He rested an elbow on his forearm against his chest. He cupped the side of his own face. He bit his pinky nail. His white fang glistened menacingly in the harsh fluorescent light. And he stared languidly.

"I'm surprised that you don't know. You seem to be very knowledgeable."

"You flatter me, Orochimaru-sama," she kept the venom she felt at the use of a familiar honorific added to her name spoken in the last voice she ever wanted to hear it from. "But I know no more than the next person." She looked at him from top to bottom. "Much less than yourself."

He scoffed in pleasant surprise. In the unforgiving light, she could have sworn she saw a third lid. A second after he opened his eyes from his last blink. Wordlessly he held up three fingers. He wiggled them slowly. She fantasized about slicing them off one at a time with her axes that she had come to quite adore.

Sakura! Inner huffed in exasperation at Sakura's ability to get distracted so quickly and completely.

I'm listening. I'm listening.

"There were three candidates for the position of Yondaime," he touched his index finger to his chin as if thinking of something so profound it pulled him away from his purpose to why he was here.

Sakura held her breath. She did not let her face move. Not even a muscle.

He clicked his tongue. "Well," he held up his hands and shrugged nonchalantly. "It appears minds have been made up. The future for Konoha looks to be bright." He smiled all his teeth in her direction. It took everything not to flinch when he ran his tongue along the top row.

"Condolences to the runners-up," he rasped.

She blinked. The sound of the lock being disengaged was but an afterthought. He left the room. Sakura gripped the edge of the stainless steel table. She sank to the floor slowly. The sudden change - the loss of the immense bloodlust - left her light-headed. It was the same sensation of being low on blood sugar or getting up from a chair too fast. There was a chance she would pass out.

She pulled her knees to her chest and lowered her forehead against them, willing herself to stabilize.

He did it.

She let out a long, slow, breath. A cold sigh of relief. The corners of her mouth twitched upward in the beginnings of an expression she was not quite estranged from.

He did it. He really did it.

---

A/N: Please review. Thank you!