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.

6. Part Six: Acceptance

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

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A/N:

Hello Readers,

Thank you so much for the thoughtful, kind, supportive words that y'all have shared with me. I was so nervous and it was very reassuring that it did not completely turn everyone away from this story. Because it was a lot and it sucked. Majorly.

My goal is to not have a one-dimensional story that is just sad or just awful or just angst. While that is always going to be intertwined with the words as the plot progresses, I really hope that the hope for a better tomorrow that Sakura is working towards comes across in little glimmers here and there. Because there is always hope. There has to be. Otherwise, she has no motivation to get out of bed.

Warnings: There is one dropping of the F-bomb in the chapter as well as the 'S' word a few times. There are some disturbing elements (child trafficking, death) as well as sexual elements in this chapter but nothing to the extent of the last chapter. I promise. There is a lime in this chapter. Some steaminess. Ngl that was the idea that came to mind that I wrapped a story around. Originally it was going to be a one-shot bc I wanted to be lazy but then I got attached. So there's that.

I'll stop here.

~L.H.

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Part 6: Adaption

Jade colored eyes studied the black fabric critically before thin rosy lips pressed together in a line that could only be defined by disappointment. The blonde woman sighed, she lowered the pants to the dark-stained wooden counter. Her pale hands came to rest on top of it.

"Sakura-chan," Mebuki said her name with so much exasperation in a manner that future Sakura was all too familiar with. "These pants are more patch than fabric at this point."

Sakura rubbed her arm to appease the need to fidget with the excess of nerves she felt. The black full-sleeve turtleneck did nothing to combat the chills she suddenly felt. It was uncanny. Mebuki already had the 'mom voice' down. Sakura chuckled somewhere between sheepish and nervous, unable to commit to either fully.

"I'm clumsy."

Mebuki's eyes softened a fraction as the set of her lips became less severe. Now Sakura understood why her mother had such visible lines around her face, she frowned a lot. A lot. And it all started at a young age.

"Well," she sighed in deep resignation. "I'll see what I can do." She lowered her head into her palm almost dramatically, reminding Sakura that her mother was still every bit of an eighteen-year-old. Her moods were at the whims of her wayward attention span. Like a speck of dust in room temperature air, it did not have a moment of rest while it flittered to the ground.

"Thank you," Sakura smiled sweetly. The gesture did not have to be forced. There was something oddly comforting about being in this environment. It was almost as if her life was not in a total state of disarray. She was getting so good at pretending that the line between daydream and reality was starting to blur. "I know they are in good hands."

After all, that was where she got her own steady hands from; the side that was most closely tied to civilians. Going back generations. It was not hard to think on occasion what life would have been like if she never met Ino. If she never attended The Academy. A clanless kid with nothing but a sharp eye and an even sharper brain.

Would life have been more straightforward then? Surely, she would not have been ripped from her timeline and planted into another, given next to no time at all to acclimate to it all. Could she have been happy just being the daughter of a baker and dressmaker? Would the boredom of it all be outweighed by the allure of the simplicity?

Mebuki wrinkled her nose not quite in displeasure at receiving just words. She had grown accustomed to the extra presence. The little treat. "No Haru-no-bun today?" She asked casually. The shop was dead; the day was slow. Mebuki wanted to burn some more of the inching by time before she could turn the sign in the window the other way and turn off the lights to signal the end of her workday.

"Haven't had the chance to go," Sakura answered honestly. "Maybe after I finish some errands."

"Oh well, it's probably for the best," Mebuki straightened. She began to fold the pants. "I am starting to get a belly from all the pastries you bring me."

Sakura laughed politely the way an acquaintance only could to an offhand comment that held the potential to quickly offend if not treated with care. "I'll be sure to bring you some when I pick up the pants." She rested her arms on the counter.

"Honestly," Mebuki pushed the dark fabric to the side while giving them a reproaching look. "You are full of surprises."

"Me?" She raised both pink brows in the very emotion. She supposed it was a testament to her training that she did not point to herself to punctuate her question.

"Yes, you," Mebuki propped both elbows on the counter and leaned forward. Jade eyes regarded their matching pair as if through the surface of a mirror. The blonde lowered the volume of her voice. There was a mischievous look on her face. Sakura's stomach dropped preemptively.

"I would have thought that if I was repairing anything of yours, it would be that little black dress." Her tone was wicked and filled with less-than-innocent innuendo. "It fits you like a glove. Better than a glove, even." Mebuki tossed her short hair off her neck. "I found myself having a hard time keeping my hands off of you when you tried it on."

Did she just…?

Sakura's face began to heat up. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and ears.

"Tell me," Mebuki smirked. "Did his heart just explode when he saw you in it?"

More like stopped.

Sakura's brows furrowed as she recalled the last person to see her in the dress other than herself. A jolt of chakra straight to the heart. He did not even have enough time to work out half a syllable to ask her for help. He misunderstood what was happening to him. He did not make the connection that she was the one who disrupted his natural circadian rhythm so severely that it had no hope of ever correcting itself. All within a few seconds.

"Something like that," Sakura murmured, still somewhere entangled in her thoughts.

"You're lucky I was in the shop that day," Mebuki giggled unabashedly. She was taking great pleasure in tormenting the pink-haired woman. "If my otosan had taken your order, he would have had a heart attack!"

Sakura paled at the thought of having that conversation with her grandfather. Her very old, very strict grandfather. The second-hand awkwardness caused her face to go from pink to red.

"Who would have thought you would be into something so risque?" Mebuki continued to press on, the entertainment factor was only growing. "I guess it's true," she said with a small sigh, "you never truly can judge a book based on its cover."

This had been a mistake. Coming here, to her mother's shop to place an order for that dress. But what other options did she have? It was not as if she could spend ages shopping around. She did not have that kind of time.

"Oh, Sakura-chan," Mebuki threw her head back and laughed. "You are so easy." She tucked her yellow hair behind both ears. "Lighten up. I'm just teasing." Complete was the picture painted with a handwave.

Sakura forced a smile on her face and tried not to think about just how accurate her mother's statement was. She was easy. It did not matter that of the three men who saw all of her, only one was allowed willingly. It did not matter that she never let her marks get close enough. One man was simply too many, much less three. The circumstances did not matter. Too many knew what her lips felt like. And that was why it was hard for her to look her father in the eye anymore for more than a second at a time. It felt dirty. She felt dirty. She came from a decent home.

"Do you want to try a dress in red?" Mebuki pulled her from her winding thoughts. "You look amazing in red," she frowned before voicing an old observation. "You stopped wearing red."

"Too flashy," she smiled to cover up for her discomfort at just how much attention she was paying her. "Do you…" Sakura looked down at the counter before raising her eyes to her mother's, gathering strength in those fragments of a second. "Have someone you're interested in? Someone you'd want to wear a dress like that for?" She asked measuredly in a low tone.

Sakura waited in the stalled judgment of her boldness. The woman before her was not her mother - not yet - so maybe she could ask without losing her life. Because if Haruno Sakura asked Haruno Mebuki that very question - or anything remotely in the vicinity - she would be dead-dead. Not even the Sage of Six Paths could bring her back after Mebuki was done with her. Sakura would bet money on it.

The perv was right. You really are a Tsunade number two.

"N-n-no!" Mebuki sputtered. Her face went from pale to bright red in a matter of seconds, giving Sakura an idea of what her own face did similarly.

Sakura laughed, pushing down the conflicting emotions that rose in her at Inner's backhanded compliment. She did not want to think where the footsteps that she walked over would lead. She already knew. An early grave. A temporary grave.

"So you can dish but you can't take? Noted," Sakura said with a serious nod.

It took exactly three puffs of loud air for Mebuki to calm down enough to glare at Sakura. "There's no one I'm interested in!" She said adamantly with the heat of her indignation. Thank Kami the shop was empty. She did not need an audience for her brain, practically short-circuiting.

"Too bad," Sakura said smoothly, dismissively. "Maybe we can go drinking sometime? See what's out there to take interest in." She offered with a gross level of casualness considering just the ickiness of it all.

"Drinking?" Mebuki asked with a scoff that was not too different from the one from Inner. Her face hardened so quickly that Sakura found herself strengthening her posture and focus immediately.

"Mebuki-san?" Sakura called out tentatively. "Did I say something wrong?"

Friends went out drinking, right? The couple of times she had shared a beer with Tsume had been away from a fourth pair of eyes. They just had to deal with Korumaru's silent judgment, he did not like the smell of the sour beverage. She had not been old enough in her past life - no one was in a hurry either, Ino claimed drinking early would cause premature wrinkles - and there was a whole war but now was different. They were eighteen, rapidly approaching nineteen, there was no reason that she could think of at the top of her head for Mebuki to have such a reaction.

"Even if I was that type of woman, I would never go drinking with you for that purpose." Mebuki managed to pull off speaking down her nose at her despite the two women being more or less the same height.

Sakura blinked owlishly. Now, it felt as if she were very much in the presence of the woman that future Sakura butt heads with often. On one such memorable occasion, the woman would not "allow" future Sakura to go to the onsen, with Ino after the two had a particularly grueling session with Tsunade, claiming that she was not born yesterday and she knew Sakura's "true intentions".

"Why not?"

Mebuki's hands found her hips. She scowled. "I don't know if you're fishing for compliments or just that dense."

That's Kaachan alright. So straight to the point that it's rude.

Sakura winced at the all-too-familiar clipping tone. One that transcended time and space and all logic.

"No one is going to be looking at me if I'm standing next to you," Mebuki huffed in disbelief she had to spell it out for the woman who by all accounts was not an idiot. She was not that convinced. "Go drinking she says," the would-be-Haruno nearly threw up her hands as she tutted.

Sakura frowned. "That's not true, Mebuki-san. You're pretty."

It was her mother's attitude that would drive most away, at least in Sakura's opinion. But that worked in her favor. She needed Mebuki occupied with anyone but Kizashi for the time being. Her parents had waited to be married before being intimate in that way, a shared principle from their religious upbringing. Something her mother did not let her forget. It was the expectation of her as well. Her parents would sooner have her leave this career path than corrupt herself in this way. Konoha be damned. It could use someone else's daughter for its purposes. Someone who did not have the last name Haruno. Sex was only for the married. There was so much self-righteousness in her mother's tone whenever she spoke about the topic that Sakura could only believe it.

Just for a few more years.

There was no doubt in her mind that if she were future Sakura and they caught wind of anything, they would have disowned her. No questions, no explanation, no mercy, no duality. She tarnished the Haruno name. And there was no world, no scenario, no reality where her parents would understand her actions.

Mebuki snorted at the comment from Sakura. "Yeah, that may be true but no one is going to bother with pretty when drop-dead gorgeous is right there." She gestured with her hand to Sakura with clear jealousy on her face. "Your hair, your face, your skin, and on top of it all, your personality isn't half bad…it's so unfair."

"Mebuki-san," she was at a loss. Her mother had never spoken so candidly to her before. All she remembered was Mebuki pointing out her flaws: her large forehead, small breasts, flat-ish figure, how she looked when she ate (like a pig), her unladylike actions (how she fought and the state of her rough hands), and later her big butt.

"But we can go grab a meal together to catch up," Mebuki said with a head nod, convinced of her counteroffer. She patted Sakura's folded pants that awaited repair. "They'll be ready in three days."

Sakura smiled. "I would like that," she dipped her head in thanks in recognition of the conversation reaching its end along with Mebuki's patience. She knew not to test either. "Thank you, Mebuki-san."

"Don't forget the guava cream cheese puffs."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Sakura said with a small chuckle. "See you in three days." She waved.

Mebuki waved back.

For a moment, all was okay in her world.

xXx

"Oneechan!" A high-pitched voice called out, spotting her before she did.

"Oh!" Sakura held the bag to her chest tighter as the green projectile latched onto her leg. "Midori-chan," she smiled with her whole face. She was still riding the high of her interaction with her mother. It was a flicker of positivity, of light. She looked forward to taking the woman up on her offer. "You look like you're having fun."

Midori nodded her head. "So much fun. We're playing kunoichi! I got halfway up a tree." She looked absolutely beside herself in pride. She was grinning from ear to ear. One of which, Sakura, could see a thin twig poking out. She reached for it without much thought, pulling it from the girl's hair only to drop it to the ground without an additional thought.

"Kunoichi?" Sakura frowned in stark contrast to the girl's sense of accomplishment. "Why are you playing a game like that?" She eyed the dirt stains on Midori's clothes. Osono-san was not going to be happy about that. There was even a nick in her top from where a branch snagged the thread. Yet another thing for the stern woman to grumble about.

"Because I want to be a kunoichi when I grow up. We all do!" She gushed in excitement that was not damped in the slightest by Sakura's lack of enthusiasm. "I'll be old enough for The Academy in the fall! Osono-san said she would help me with the paperwork."

Another generation of child soldiers. Inner scoffed bitterly. Konoha is alive and well. The Will of Fire. What a tagline for drawing in suckers.

Suckers like her.

"Midori-chan," Sakura peeled the girl off of her. She did not let go of her hand - so soft and small - as she crouched down. The brown bag crinkled. "You can be anything, anything you want," she looked into the girl's eyes solemnly. "Keep your options open."

"But, Oneechan," Midori pouted, finally the glow of her day was starting to give way to something else: doubt. Sakura's unexpected reaction - from the girl's perspective - caused her to pause. "You're a kunoichi! You protect the village and you heal people and you're so cool. Osono-san said you were in the orphanage too and once you graduated from The Academy you moved out and became really, really strong. Mai-chan and I are going to go to The Academy together and when we become Genin we're going to live together forever because we're best friends!"

Forever.

Sakura's resolve faltered at the confidence, the sureness of the little girl in front of her. She had her whole life mapped out. It was so clear and simple in her mind. The world she saw through her golden eyes was so small. So bright. So full of possibilities. So exciting. She had a belief. She had a picture in her heart - an idol - of what her life was going to be. What she was going to make her life be. Sakura could not bring herself to crush the girl's dreams, because they were all she had.

"Just promise me," Sakura smiled softly - it was muted by the sadness in her dull eyes - "that you'll keep an open mind."

How could she realistically warn the girl off this path for this path was the one she walked? She walked it because she had limited options. She did not want to stay at the orphanage where she was terrorized nearly day in and day out while no one looked out for her. She joined The Academy because it was hope, it was her hope. Hope that she could be someone who could protect herself. Hope that she can put a roof over her head and food on her table. But everything had a cost.

Even hope.

You're paying for it now.

Hope was a dangerous thing. The Academy was hope. It was a means by which she could turn the whole prospect of her life around. She would be of use. She could have value instead of being just another mouth to feed. The Academy was an ideal. The Academy was everything for someone who had and was nothing. At least it was advertised as such to young minds who did not know any better.

Sakura's stomach clenched at the thought of the little hand so warm in her own, curled around the cold unforgiving hilt of a kunai. It was wrong. It was so, so, so wrong. It went against everything. Against nature. Offspring - children - should be protected. They should not be made into the shields that defend a nation. It should be the other way around. The nation should protect its children.

Is that not what parents are supposed to do? And what was the village - Konoha - if not the parent of them all? The Sandaime was their father. They were all his children. In theory anyway. In practice, there was a lot left to be desired.

It's predatory. The system is predatory. The system is wrong.

"Okay, Oneechan," Midori agreed without argument. Her gold eyes darted to the bag hopefully in a clear deviation from the current conversation topic. It was pushed from her mind just as easy as that.

Sakura chuckled, hoping to push down the lump in her throat with some lightness just as easily as Midori unofficially demonstrated. She reached inside and pulled out pastries covered in plastic.

"Be sure to share with your friend, Mai-chan."

"I know. And Mai-chan is my best friend." Midori reached for the pastries with eager hands as if someone would snatch them away. A product of the environment she was raised in. It would take years to correct that behavior and that was only after someone actually pointed it out to her. "Thank you, Oneechan."

Sakura ruffled her green hair with fondness. "You're welcome, Midori-chan."

"Will I see you next week?" The girl held the baked goods to her chest. She stood taller at her full height in her building, anticipating to tear into the sugary goodness.

"If I don't have a mission. And if I do…"

"Go to Haru-no-bun and Haruno-san will give me the goodies!" Midori finished for her with glee. "I remember!"

"You have such a good memory," Sakura smiled. "Did you finish the book?"

Midori nodded her head. "Hanako-san helped me and Mai-chan read it. She's so nice. I love the library. I love Wednesdays."

"I do too," she tapped Midori on the nose. "Run off now. It's not nice to keep a friend waiting." She made a thoughtful face. "Especially not a best friend."

Midori beamed at her. Sakura rose to her feet. She watched as the girl ran to her friend who was not too far off. She watched as they skipped hand in hand to a nearby bench no doubt to tuck into what was given. Sakura's heart panged a little as she thought of her own best friend who was still more than five years away.

There's still so much to do.

xXx

Maybe it was the day she had or maybe she was just tired but Sakura found her feet moving her down a path that was familiar. She did not think as she ducked under the white curtains with the red kanji. The place was less worn but it still felt like home.

I'm home. She thought to herself as she settled on the stool furthest to the left after setting the brown bag in the wicker basket that was by her feet. Everything had a place. Everything was tidy. Everything was organized. She propped her arms on the counter and balanced her head between her fists. She closed her eyes and let the smells bring forth the memories that brought pain but also comforted it away.

She smiled. She could almost hear his voice screaming loudly about wanting more 'real' missions. She could hear her other teammate talking in lower tones calling him an idiot and goading him into a fight. She could hear her sensei half-heartedly telling them to not act like animals while in a public place as he flipped the page of his porn lazily. Her own voice would chime in to chide Naruto and say something that would cause Sasuke to glare at her. The illusion was all so nice.

Will it be the same?

"Ready to order…?" A voice she had not heard in years said. "Sakura-chan?" The tone shift was sudden when he recognized her.

"Teuchi-san," she did not feign her smile as she dipped her head. "How are you?" She was definitely feeling nostalgic.

"Long time!" He patted the back of his head, still in disbelief at what he was seeing, who he was seeing. "I'm well. How have you been? I started to think that you don't like ramen anymore."

Sakura tried her hardest to not let her smile falter but her eyes lost some of their light as guilt crept in. "I've just been busy," she went with the same tired excuse that did not impress anyone. "And never. I've been meaning to come back but something or the other kept me away."

"Well, you're here now," Teuchi said warmly in that manner of his that made everyone feel welcome. Her admiration and appreciation grew for him. He was one of the first people to accept Naruto - along with Iruka-Sensei - as something more than just a host for the Kyuubi. He was always very kind to her too.

"The usual?"

She blinked in surprise. "You remember?"

"Of course!" He looked at her expectantly. She nodded her head. "I'll be right out with it, Sakura-chan." He paused. "You're getting an extra egg. I do not want to hear any arguments when your bill comes!"

She laughed at his stern tone and how it conflicted with his words. She nodded her head in resignation. No one argued with Teuchi. That was an unspoken rule that they all knew. "Of course, thank you, Teuchi-san."

She felt a warmth fill her as he disappeared behind the curtain into the kitchen. She pulled out a pair of chopsticks and a spoon from the utensil caddy and set them on the counter. She smiled softly as her thoughts drifted off again.

The bowl being placed in front of her brought her back to reality. "Thank you for the food," she nearly sang as she brought her chopsticks to the bowl. Her mouth watered as the steam gave her face an impromptu facial. She ate slowly savoring the meal in stark contrast to her usual eating for sustenance philosophy. Today she was being kind to herself. And nothing really felt like a hug from the inside quite like ramen.

Sakura counted the ryo and placed them on the counter. Her spoon and chopsticks were placed neatly in the empty bowl. She made sure to wipe down any splatter marks. She grabbed her bag, holding it to her hip. She dipped her head and spared one last smile to the stall owner before turning around with the remains of a smile on her lips.

That was nice. Really nice. Almost like old times.

Her memories kept her from feeling too lonely. It was almost as if they were there with her. It made everything less daunting. She never had to eat alone in a restaurant before, before this life. But she was glad she did because she got to see Teuchi-san again. She got to have her favorite ramen again. It was small but it held significance for her.

Maybe just maybe there will be enough of me leftover by the time everything starts all over again.

She felt good or close enough to it that she could not tell the difference from a glance. Maybe she could go to bed without having a couple of sips of sake. It would help Inner feel less anxious. The fragment with a mind of its own was starting to overload Sakura's own nerves with hers. Just because it was out of concern did not mean that it was not annoying, the way Inner mothered her.

Sakura held onto the feeling of contentment, of tranquility as she crossed off her mental list. She had a productive day which hopefully would set her week on the right track. No doubt missions would be filling her schedule to the brim. This was the calm before the storm. She could feel it in her bones. Murmurs of unreset stretched as far west as Suna. The nations were jumpy. Everything was tense. The Daimyo had scheduled more than one meeting at the capital for the Hokage to attend. All the precursors were there. It was nearly impossible to not feel anxious when she thought about it.

What kind of politician were you, Naruto?

She had a strong imagination. But even it had its limits. She could not picture the seventeen-year-old in Hokage-garbs - orange, because it was Naruto - sitting amongst the leaders of the world with a straight face.

There's a reason for that. Kaka-sensei kept the peace and seat warm for him.

Naruto was thirty when he became Hokage.

A lot can happen in thirteen years.

Nearly seventy-five percent of future Sakura's life was what. Naruto and company had to live with her memory longer than they lived with her.

But so have you.

She nearly stopped walking as her heart sank at the realization.

So have I.

The street was bustling. It was filled with so many voices but she ignored them all because they were not for her ears. Sakura had taken all but five steps when her hearing became less selective. She found herself face to face with a face that was so similar to the one she had just been thinking about. Her violet eyes narrowed at the sight of her. The transformation was sudden, almost unhuman, and more beast-like. The volatility translated to the charge in the air.

Cackling. Electric. Painful.

Just keep moving.

Sakura looked past the irate Uzumaki and peeled one foot off the ground, to close the distance between them before she could grow it. She was two steps past Kushina when her voice caused her to pause.

"You really hurt her ya know?!" Kushina was shaking in her anger. From the sound of her voice, she had turned around but Sakura was not going to look back to confirm. "How could you just ignore her like that?! How could you just abandon her? What kind of teammate…what kind of friend does that? No explanation! No apology! No reason! No nothing, dattebane! What's wrong with you?" Kushina clenched her fists as she partially screamed at the pinkette's back.

No use arguing with fools, Sakura. Just keep moving forward.

J-just keep moving.

There was that disconnect again between her mind and her body. They were not in harmony. The signal was either ignored or dropped because her feet did not move. She did not move. She continued to stand still.

Sakura.

Sakura's silence only caused more anger to pump in Kushina's veins.

"Just who do you think you are? Hurting Tsume's heart in that way, huh? Do you not get it? She cares about you! Even after everything you did to her! She cares about you!" Kushina took two steps forward, stalking toward the small brick wall with a pink head. "She's scared! She's going through a major life change. She's going to be a kaachan, dattebane!"

Tsume-chan.

Sakura closed her eyes. Hana was born when Tsume was just nineteen. How could she forget that?

"She needs - she deserves - all the support she can get!" Kushina uttered with palpable disgust. The sight of the slightly shorter woman disgusted her to her core. "And for whatever reason, that includes you! She keeps waiting for you to come see her. To ask her how she is! What is wrong with you, 'ttebane?!"

Kushina was so worked up that she did not pause to breathe much less give Sakura a chance to answer. Not that the pinkette would have. She had no sanitization she could offer. No apology. No explanation. No comfort. She had nothing but her silence and veneer of indifference.

"You keep letting her down! You keep hurting her! Does it make you feel better, dattebane? Does it make you feel important, dattebane? Does it make you feel like someone? When you make someone hurt, dattebane? Have you ever once thought about Tsume's feelings, dattebane?"

Kushina demanded emphatically. She was spitting - quite literally - in her outrage.

"She's my friend, dattebane! I can't stand to have someone like you hurt her, dattebane. Especially not now! Not when she should be surrounded by love and support. Not when she should just be worried about herself and her baby and no one else. Not when she's scared!"

Tsume-chan…I'm so sorry.

"I won't let someone as selfish, horrible, cruel, worthless as you hurt her, dattebane." She breathed heavily from having expelled all her anger, all her frustrations out at this woman. This woman thought she was better than them all. "Don't you have anything to say, dattebane?!" Kushina growled in frustration, her hands pulled at her hair to keep from swinging at the back of Sakura's head.

Sakura vanished into thin air but not before hearing the sound of Kushina punching her fist through the fist inanimate object she could find - a street lamp. The dusty gravel road drank up Sakura's teardrops, readily, eliminating all evidence that they were even there in the first place.

She pounded on the gray door. The bag against her chest was crushed. The bread and pastries were just sad smooshed remnants of what they had been. She could feel his chakra signature from behind the door. She pounded harder, nearly causing the whole slab to crumble under her strength.

Open the fucking door!

It did open, revealing a confused face with dripping wet blond hair, and sharp baby-blue eyes. She did not give him any time to react. Sakura grabbed his face and pulled it down to her lips. She kissed him desperately.

"C-ca-cat," Kai grabbed her by the shoulder with one hand, the other was holding his towel around his waist. He held her at arm's length. Not nearly as far as she held the world. She hated the distance. His sandy-blond brow - darkened by the water - furrowed as he took in her face.

"Let me in," she stammered through a voice dangerously close to breaking. The last of her composure. The tear barrier was the first thing to be broken. Or maybe it was her heart. The order did not matter all that much in hindsight.

"Cat," he pulled her inside, closing the door from prying eyes and ears. He turned around to face her. "You said it was a one-time deal," he reminded her of her words. The ones he had heard through a hangover haze

"I don't care what I said," Sakura bit her bottom lip to hide its tremor, her patheticness. "I need to forget."

"Cat," his voice was almost gentle to compliment her hoarse whisper, making it less noticeably out of place. He reached for the bag she was flattening to paper from her and set it down on the end table, length-wise. "Maybe we should talk." He glanced to his left at his small kitchen.

"I can make tea. Okay?"

Sakura shook her head. Over and over. She did not want tea. She did not want to talk. She did not want to listen. She just needed a distraction. Because, no matter how hard she tried, whenever she looked at Kushina she saw her past. She saw Naruto. She saw him in everything she was.

Because when Kushina yelled at her, she was reminded of being yelled at by Naruto. She was reminded that she was a bad friend, a bad teammate. She was reminded that history was repeating itself and there was nothing she could do - there was nothing she could do to correct her course, her trajectory. She was reminded just how much she did not belong here and just how quickly she was left behind there. She was always left behind. Watching their backs get further and further away. She was reminded that she would never stand shoulder to shoulder with them, she would never catch up. She was reminded of just how alone and lonely she was in the world. She was reminded that she had nothing. And it was her own damn fault.

Maybe it would help with the gaping hole in the center of her chest to fill it with Kushina, Tsume, and others. But she was not Naruto. She could only take so much. Being friends with his mother, being friends with any of their mothers was not in her capacity. She was neither here nor there; now or tomorrow. She had no place.

She had no home.

She was not Naruto. She was not strong enough to be friends with the woman whose future husband was the one she thought about, never really stopped thinking about. She was not strong enough to be friends with the woman whose future son was the one she wanted to reunite with but knew she could not. Because when she looked at Minato, she saw what could have been her future. And that was starting to kill her because she knew she could never be anything to him, to his son. And it was too much.

In this life and form, she could not hold onto either. She had no right to either.

"I just need to forget," she pleaded. She had no pride, strength, or dignity to speak of. She only had a need and it surpassed everything. "Make me forget."

Even if it's only for a moment.

"Okay," Kai reached for her face. "Okay." He caressed her cheeks gently with his thumbs before he kissed her slowly, deeply. Her hands moved to pull away the towel. Neither of them acknowledged the tears she shed. Just like Sakura did not acknowledge how she wished Kai's eyes were cobalt and not light blue. And that his hair was longer and more sun than sand.

---

The room was small. Musty from the three bodies stuffed inside of it. It was dark. There were no windows. Just one cast-iron door that locked from the outside. The only source of light was the one under her chin, tucked between it and her upper chest. She needed her hands. The ring of keys in her right hand rattled as she struggled to keep her anger in control. Anger at the body that was decaying on the futon mattress with the soft sheets just on the other side of the door that locked from the outside.

His death had been much too fast and merciful. It was an injustice. She wished she was wearing his blood as war paint. She wished she could step outside into the light with the crimson mask as a warning to all the solicitors that she knew made his career path not only possible but very attractive in its lucrativeness. A low-life that was a strain on the earth. Traders of flesh. Flesh mongers. The most disgusting of the disgusting.

Sakura.

Inner's disapproving churlish tone pulled her from her vivid thoughts. The ones that screamed for her to round up the monsters and have her way with them. All the ways she could make them bleed without killing them. She would pump their hearts manually if it meant prolonging the torture. She would show them just how dark the world was. The same darkness they cast on the innocent, stealing it away for it to never be regained.

Next time. Don't get careless now.

Inner was right, of course. She could not afford to draw attention. Not Dashi's - the tiny village but three days from where Oto was once established - and not the man with a bandage over his eye in Konoha: her commander.

She would have to be methodical and precise. Mindful even if the heinous of it all made her practically feral.

She slipped the key into the lock. She twisted to the right. Her eyes widened just as the flashlight reflected off something.

Brown.

His eyes were brown.

She did not open the door to the metal gate. The cage. There was not enough room for the boy to stand. He huddled into the far end. The metal bars dug into his spine.

He's so scared.

She was now second-guessing her decision not to cast a genjutsu to keep them under the pull of sleep. It had made so much sense when she thought about it. But she had been detached from her emotions. It was nothing more than an idea. Now faced with the reality, she saw just how much she overestimated herself and underestimated the situation.

"Hi," she breathed in a high-pitched tone that was meant to be disarming. The light lowered off his face as she brought it to her hand. The keys were on the floor. "My name is Akira," she smiled. She shone the light on her own face. "I've been looking for you, Akio-chan. It's time for you to go home."

The boy shuddered.

xXx

Sakura sat with her back bent forward and her legs crossed under her. She had managed to open the door of the cage. But that was it. That was all the progress she had to show for three hours. Three hours had come and gone and the boy had not moved beyond reaching back to wrap one of his hands on the bars of his container in a white knuckle grip.

Sakura. You're spending too much time on this. Just move him.

She tried not to let Inner's anxiousness show on her face or actions. The boy - no more than six - was terrified. He did not want to leave. And she was not going to make him. He had to come to that decision on his own. She would not take that away from him.

Akio-chan, I wish I could take away your hurt.

A birthday in captivity. More than seven months without his family. Memories stolen from him along with his childhood. It made her blood boil to the point it colored the skin of her cheeks and ears red.

"You know," she reached behind her back for her pouch - the one hidden away under her brown cloak. Her hands made the seals without her having to think about it. Something soft filled her grip. She brought the light to it. "I have a little friend here who wanted to meet you. He was so excited that he tired himself out. Mind if he sits here for a bit?"

The boy continued to stare at her with terror in his eyes.

Sakura, with slow movements, set the stuffed animal at the threshold of the cage. She held her breath and waited.

xXx

As she eyed the three faces huddled in a dark fleece blanket on the back of a horse-drawn wooden cart she could only wear a solemn face. Her eyes were flat, completely devoid of any light, as what was once held by them had sunk into her heavy heart that was swallowed by her knotted stomach. She was a mess. She made a mess.

"Akira," a hand around her upper arm shook her in a justifiable escalation when faced with her continued spaciness.

Sakura blinked her eyes until they focused on a middle-aged face. A woman with orange hair and warm gold eyes. She smiled but it was not without sadness. She looked over her shoulder before turning back to the woman with green eyes and mousy-brown hair.

Sakura nodded her head in understanding. She walked with the woman several yards away from the cart, until it was out of hearing distance but well within sight. She did not want to take her eyes off of them.

"We're lucky we found them when you did," Yen - the woman with orange hair - said with a heavy sigh. She brought her hand to her cheek. "Those poor dears. Kami knows how scared they must have been to be in that room for as many days with the man being dead."

Sakura made a sympathetic sound with her lips. Kami may not know. But she knew exactly how long the three boys were in the house with the bloated dead body. Seven minutes. That was how long it took for the expedited decay process to reach the stage it had. Her poison had worked in a matter of seconds. The boys were so traumatized by their ordeal that their memories would be scrambled. If their brains did not try to block out the whole thing.

She had made sure to cast the whole room in a genjutsu before leading them out by the hand. There was only one way in and out of the 'safe room' and that was through the smuggler's bedroom. She was a civilian, she could not punch a hole in the wall or burrow them out of there with an earth tunnel. Chakra - she could not use chakra beyond what she did for their wellness exam. The amount of chakra was so negligible that they did not even feel it when she checked them for injuries. They were unharmed beyond being slightly malnourished and dehydrated. Physically. Mentally, emotionally, and physiologically was a completely different story. That she could only do so much for them which was on the way to amount to nothing.

No one would believe children - the oldest being only ten years old - that the man who rented them out by the hour had not died days ago.

"Thank you for getting here so quickly," she meant the words. She did not have all the time in the world. She needed to get back to Konoha in time for her expected mission debrief statement.

"You gave us the heads up to be ready and on standby," the woman reminded her with a frown. "And we were."

Akira's lips twitched before almost pulling into a smile. Reliability was a great quality to have. It made it easier to give up some control when she knew she could count on someone.

"You did a very good thing," Yen squeezed her arm in a gesture meant to be reassuring but it felt like the life was being squeezed out of her. Her gold eyes softened. "Kami will rain blessings down on you. He will be kind. You will find your brother."

Sakura - wearing the face of Akira, a merchant's daughter, an orphan - nodded her head numbly.

"Don't worry about the dears. Ken and I will reunite them with their families in Fuka and Soma. Just like we did for Kenzo and Ren," she shook her head. "They are doing well. They want to know when you'll visit them again."

Sakura redistributed weight on her feet. She peered at the horizon. It was the early minutes of dawn when the streets would be the least crowded and they were less likely to run into trouble. It was better to travel in broad daylight. There was a reason why the Watomis traveled in a cart and not a wagon. All their possessions were out in the open. They showed clearly that they had nothing.

"I'll try my best," Sakura answered noncommittally. She pressed her hand against the side of her leg so that the woman would not see it twitch in her guilt. Her guilt of not being able to keep promises she had no business making but would when faced with those who lost their innocence.

"Do you think you have enough for transport and food?" Her hand was already reaching for her coin bag.

Yen intercepted it and squeezed her cold fingers. "Yes," she said firmly. "More than enough."

Sakura nodded her head. She was not one to argue with an expert. She brought her fingers that still held Yen's warmth to her side, slowly.

"We thank Kami every day that we met you, Akira," Yen's voice was layered with conflicting emotions. It was bittersweet.

She had crossed paths with the pair - the Watomi's - months back in Fuka. The tragic abduction and loss of their own son over a decade ago spurred them to lead this thankless, heavy life of trying to reunite lost children with their awaiting parents with the intention that no parent should have to wait indefinitely with the pain, the turmoil of if they would ever see their child again. Even if all they could provide was closure.

There's no such thing.

Yen had been persistent and Sakura had seen an opportunity to expand her reach without having to be in the field. Yen and Ken could be her eyes and ears. They could track down leads full-time where she could not. She did not push them into this life, this role so what was the harm in utilizing them?

Something about them just told her she could trust them. Akira could trust them with this, even if Sakura might just be beyond such a thing. Especially when it came to her mission. Her true mission.

"Watomi-san," she said almost in a state of anxious alarm. "Can you double-check the bribe money?"

"It's all right here, Akira-chan," Ken, the man with white hair and teal eyes behind a pair of round metal glasses, patted the deep pocket of his coat. The sound of ryo shuffling in the purple pouch she had placed them in reached her ears. She relaxed visibly. The guards at the border of Dashi would need their palms greased to allow for three boys to be taken from their border. To turn a blind eye. Probably just as they did for the smuggler that brought them into Dashi - his base of operations - in the first place.

In her obsession with snakes, traitors, and war dogs she forgot that shinobi were not the only ones with blood on their hands and black hearts. Civilians were every bit as capable of devastation. Three worlds would never be the same again and that was not taking into consideration the countless impacted by it all.

Her eyes kept gradually returning to the three faces. Fed and in new sets of clothing. The exterior did not accurately represent all that was held inside.

"Go on, say your goodbyes," Ken's voice called out.

She nodded her head, not at all phased that she was so easy to read. Akira did not have to hide her emotions. Akira was allowed to be readable. It made her easier to trust. Yen patted her on the back as she walked by. Sakura pulled her cloak to her body. It was chilly. She put on a smile she did not feel on her face as she approached the boys. They lifted their heads in unison just as her feet came to a stop at the back of the cart.

"Nori-chan, Haruto-chan, Akio-chan," she reached into her pockets and pulled out small clear pouches with even smaller spheres wrapped in different bright colors. "These are for you. Eat them on the way. Before your parents see," she said brightly. "They are going to be so excited to see you again."

They're not children, Sakura. Not anymore.

She inwardly sighed at their lack of enthusiasm. Inner was right. They were far from children. They had the same haunted look in their eyes that Genin did after they took their first life. Nothing would be the same for them.

I wish we could do more for them.

She wished a lot more than that. She wished there were resources for them, places they could go. Their parents, and their families, would be out of their depths trying to get them acclimated back to normal life. It was a long road ahead.

I wish I could take away your memories; unburden you of them.

There was a very good reason why past lives were not remembered. The current one was sacrificed for the ones that already happened. Today was sacrificed for yesterday. And the pain of being trapped in duality - neither here nor there - was like nothing she ever felt before. Haunted. She was haunted by the faces in her head, her future. Just like the boys would be haunted by their past.

This will have to be enough, Sakura. In this lifetime.

Still, it did nothing to lessen the burning in her stomach. "Can you hold out your hands please?" She asked them kindly in a calm voice. She tried to imitate to the best of her ability how Minato spoke. It seemed to work because Nori - the oldest at ten - held out his hand. Haruto, his eight-year-old brother followed suit. Sakura placed the small pouches in their palms. She watched them curl around the offering.

"Good," she nodded her head encouragingly. "You're going to be okay," she said with more wishful thinking than anything. "It will get better."

The boys nodded their heads, not all quite there. A pair of brown eyes were peering into her soul. She turned to him. She held out the last of the candy. "Akio-chan?" She tilted her head to the side as she asked timidly. He was holding his stuffie to his chest, under his chin. Two pairs of eyes stared at her almost both as lifeless. He opened his palm. She reached over to place it there. His cold fingers curled around her hand.

"Akira-san?" He asked her in a voice that was so small and innocent that she heard a crack form in her heart.

"Yes, Akio-chan?"

"Can I stay with you?" He asked her with tears starting to form in his eyes. His lip trembled.

Shit.

Sakura…

He was only six. Not that much older when she herself wanted to ask someone that very question. The question she had not been brave enough to ask. The question that the Pretty Lady pretended to be oblivious to. Sakura brought a hand to his shoulder, the one he was not clutching for dear life.

"Why did you ask that, Akio-chan?" She asked him gently, her eyes softening with concern. "Are you worried about the long journey?"

The little boy shook his head. "They don't care about me," he said in such a small voice that it crushed her. "They don't love me."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She racked her brain for how to best comfort the boy. Comfort that she did not quite know how to provide because she rarely received it herself. She pictured a kind face with blond hair. At four, he was better at comforting than she was at nineteen. He really was something else.

What would Minato-kun say in this situation?

She spoke to the boy as she believed Minato would.

"I talked to your kaachan and tochan back when I was in Soma, Akio-chan," she said in a voice that was tight from the effort required to keep it all together. She saw something other than heartbreak in the little boy's eyes. Curiosity. "All they could talk about was how much they missed you. They were looking for you every day. They are looking for you even now. Your kaachan told me she would never give up. She would never stop looking for you."

The curiosity hardened to disbelief. Akio turned his head away from her. He held the brown stuffed animal with round red eyes to his chest.

"Your tochan wanted to come with me, every time I searched," she continued in her campaign to convince him.

"He's not here," the little boy murmured with disappointment that only came from being repeatedly hurt by indifference and neglect. Trust did not come so easily.

He's just trying to protect himself. Manage his disappointment by having no expectations.

"Because I told him not to," she smiled sadly. "Because someone has to be home to keep the light on for us to find our way back."

Akio's little lips parted in surprise. "R-really?"

"Really," she nodded with a smile that contained more light. Hope that encouraged him to nurture some in himself. "Your Kaachan and Tochan are going to be so happy to see you. They missed you so much." She had seen their faces. They were devastated.

"They don't care about me," Akoi was close to breaking down as he repeated. It was hard to let go of years and years of being ignored. It was all he knew. She could see all the precursors.

"Akoi-chan," she tucked him under her chin. He curled his back, his forehead on her shoulder. The dampness was instant. "They do. They're just not very good at showing it," she soothed him. "But they are trying. They will try to be better."

He shook his head. Her words brought him nothing in the way of comfort.

"You know when I was around your age," she said with a gentle lilt to her voice. "I used to have a really good friend. He was a really good listener. I would tell him how I was feeling. Every little thing. Every big thing. Every time someone made me sad, mad, upset, happy, or excited. He always listened to every word. He never interrupted. He was a really good friend. I forgot to be lonely when I was with him."

Brown eyes were peering at her straight into the hollow shell of what she had become. Of what was left of her.

"And he looked a lot like your friend," she gestured to the toy in his arms. "So try talking to him, okay? It may help." She dried his tears with a gentle hand and soft smile. "I'll come visit you. I'll check in on you. I can't wait to hear about how things are different. About how things are better."

They won't ignore you anymore. They realized what they had when you were gone. I promise you.

"Ken-san and Yen-san will also come visit you often. There's a boy in Soma, Ren-chan. You can talk to him too. He's really nice. He'll understand." She gently lifted his chin. "He's a really good listener too. He'll help you. You have so many people who want to help you. You're not alone, Akio-chan. You won't be alone, I promise you. Just like I promise the bad man won't find you again. He will never hurt you again."

She held him until the tear stopped wetting her front. The boy sniffled. He straightened. His eyes were solemn but remained dry as he did not let more tears fall. He nodded his head.

"That's a good boy," she ruffled his hair before handing him the candy.

"The bear is ugly," he murmured before sniffing and rubbing his eye.

Sakura laughed. "That's because he's not a bear. He's a loris." She regarded the small stuffed animal.

I'm counting on you, Kuu-kun.

His brethren - a replacement from the zoo - had a tall task ahead of him. But if she knew one thing it was that children were resilient.

"You're going to be just fine, Akio-chan." She believed it. She had to believe it.

"We'll keep an eye on them, Akira." Yen patted her on the back as Sakura corrected her posture. The woman was very touchy. Sakura had to remind herself of that every time she saw her. "No one is coming after our boys again."

Sakura's smile did not reach her eyes. She kept her lips closed as she watched them get smaller and smaller. She waved until they were no longer visible to her eye.

The sun was to her back. She sighed.

"You can't protect them from the Snake," she murmured into the wind.

But you can.

Sakura nodded her head.

I can try.

There were still two missing boys after all that she had to track down. She did not even begin to think about just what kind of horrors they were experiencing.

What a world.

Sakura clicked her tongue in agreement. What a world, indeed.

---

Sakura turned the pages of the book in her lap, the only book she owned not tied to the quest to satiate her thirst for knowledge. She sat on the floor of her room, legs crossed, back against the frame of her bed. Her head was bowed and there was a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes held fondness. Her fingers moved slowly over the two sentences on the brightly colored page depicting a princess with brown hair, green eyes, and a bright purple kimono. She was beautiful.

Akira needed to find a magic pea that would save her kingdom from doom. The pea was blessed by Kami himself. If she planted it into the ground with good intentions, her whole country would never have to go without food ever again. There was no shortage of challenges awaiting Akira - the hime - as she embarked on her quest that may prove to be completely unfruitful. But she was determined and she was brave and she had to try. So she did.

Sakura's lips moved wordlessly as she let herself get lost in a simple world with a simple problem that had a simple solution. The lesson was a simple one too. But it was one she had yet to fully learn and commit to heart.

No one could do everything alone always.

---

Kai woke up while she was in the process of getting dressed. He ran a hand over his face, wiping away the tiredness after he lifted his head from the warmth of his pillow.

"Boo." His voice was groggy with sleep as he smiled lopsidedly at her.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Go back to sleep."

"You going on a mission?" His voice was closer to what she was accustomed to hearing.

Sakura made a noncommittal sound as she pulled down her shirt, tucking it in her pants. She had a few hours but she needed to go back home to make final preparations.

He twisted in the dark sheets so that he was propped up on his side, facing her. She did not miss the way he flexed his bicep. It was all intentional. "Where to?" He asked in a casual, conversational tone.

Ugh. I hate this guy.

"Don't do that," she clicked her tongue and spoke in a no-nonsense tone. "Don't try to make this more than it is."

Again.

"It's called taking an interest," his easy smile made an appearance causing his cheek to dimple.

"You know that you're just wasting air right now, right?" She shot him a dirty look. She could not tell him even if she wanted to. And she definitely did not want to. She ran her fingers through her hair. It was a few inches past her shoulder blades now. It was not a decision that she made. Her targets seemed to prefer the added length, something about being more feminine and less of a perceived threat.

It was her own weakness that led her to her current predicament. She did not want to spend another birthday alone. A birthday that would bring nothing along with it other than marking her a day closer to her own death. No memories. No laughter. No happiness. No peace.

Just another day.

He's helping with our problem.

It was hardly a problem anymore really. The last couple of missions where a man touched her had gone fine without a hitch. Every inch of skin Kai mapped with his touches that ranged from tender to possessive was an inch that seemed to be less unpredictable. He was overriding the memories of trauma her mind had sealed away but her body had retained. Good touch. He was teaching it what a good, safe touch felt like. All without her ever having to say a word to him. He just seemed to know. It also did not hurt that he knew what he was doing. And for that reason, she was going to gaslight herself as long as it took to justify coming back to him. Over and over and over again.

His mouth isn't all that bad.

It just took some getting used to was all.

"You know if you don't talk to me maybe I'll just have to resort to reading your mind," he threatened nonchalantly.

Let him. Please let him. Inner practically begged her.

Sakura bit back a smile at the thought of all the things Inner would do to him if she ever took him up on his offer. He would be running for the hills at the very sight of the color pink.

"I'll make you breakfast," he pulled her from her mildly amusing musing.

"I can't risk food poisoning," she deadpanned.

"Hm," Kai scratched at his chest in the middle of his sternum before yawning loudly, not at all bothered by her rudeness. She did not have food in her yet. She was being surprisingly tame given the circumstances. "That Genin feeds you." He studied his nails in a bored manner hiding his jealousy.

She paused as she tried to work out who he could possibly mean. "That's different," she shook her head, chiding herself for engaging. "I pay for it." And he was her father so it felt less like she was being a burden and more like she was letting him fulfill his obligation.

Kai snorted but ultimately decided to keep his mouth shut. It was a wise decision, especially considering how Sakura had projectiles strapped to her thigh now.

"Do you like katsudon?"

"I don't think I've ever had it," she answered distractedly, her mind was working through her mental checklist of things to do once she was home.

"A kitten dies every time you say stuff like that." He did not fight his natural instinct to frown. Katsudon was a staple. It was comfort food. His mother made it for him all the time for him growing up when she was still alive. "You'll come find me when you get back?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." She turned around and scanned the room for anything lingering personal effects, for any traces of her being here.

"You always say that," he stretched. He had learned that meant she was going to be gone for more than a week whenever she said that. "I'll make you dinner. You can finally try katsudon," he grinned.

Maybe she would be too full to leave after she got what she wanted like a thief the second he was not looking. A little cuddle would not kill her even if she operated under that assumption. She needed the rest but he could never voice that out loud. She only came to him for one reason and one reason alone. If he pushed too much or seemed a little too eager about them sleeping together without actually sleeping together, she would bolt and all this would end as quickly and unceremoniously as it began. He had to find a way to make it seem like her idea.

"That should get you a couple of days off."

She could not help the scoff or the way her lips twitched in what could be called a smile. A couple of days off sounded nice but there was just so much to do. She scratched her head as he looked around for her hair tie. It was not on her wrist. She walked over to his dresser as the next phase of her search.

"You could just keep a drawer like I offered a million times." He was not one to pass up an opportunity to tease her.

Sakura sighed at his persistence. "You know I don't like repeating myself." It was fine. She could just grab another from home.

"Really?" His grin had grown wicked, his voice was low and his brow was raised. "That's news to me."

"Shut up," she nearly threw her boot at him but then he would have her boot and she would have to work to get it back. And she most certainly did not have the time for that.

"Be careful, Cat," his expression was serious.

"I always am."

Kai reached under his pillow, his palm pulled out something round and elastic. He played with it with a thoughtful expression for a couple of seconds before slipping his hand through it. The black elastic bit into his skin as his wider wrist stretched it out. He settled onto his back, the back of his head was cradled by his hands. She had gone through the window into the dead of the morning before the sun was even up.

"Be careful, Sakura," he repeated softly to himself. He knew he would be doing what she told him not to until she was back: holding his breath.

---

Her short raven locks were pinned back in a half-updo. The harsh bangs cut mid-forehead framed her face making her appear older than she was. Sakura walked through the crowd - no one paid much interest to her as most were already paired or triad off - all the way up the counter. The overworked receptionist dismissed her. She was alone and in a brothel which meant she was all but invisible. In her experience, she attracted less attention with darker hair such as brown or black. It was more common. Easy to overlook as there was nothing that stood out. The lack of luster in her eyes went a long way as well.

Sakura's eyes - the only thing not hidden away in her hinge - scanned the board behind the busty woman who was close to popping a couple of buttons off her top. She found four hooks vacant. They were labeled with faded black letters: 3, 7, 12, and 19. She slunk back allowing the pairs to push past her. She stayed in the shadows as she climbed the stairs.

Room three is too close to the stairs and the lobby.

So her search began at room seven. She looked around but again no one was paying her any mind in their quest to satiate themselves. Sakura grabbed a thin black metal instrument - not too different from a straightened-out bobby pin. She pulsed her chakra along it, wrapping around the metal. She moved it up and down. Her chakra solided as it found the grooves of the inner pins - making the shape of a key. She pulled it out of the lock. She twisted to the right and slipped into the room.

It was dark. The curtains were drawn. The air was stale. She stood still, not wanting to touch anything unless absolutely necessary. Sakura sighed when it became clear that room seven was not the room. She slipped out just as she had in - unnoticed. She did not worry about the negligible chakra residue her break-in had caused. Only the elite would be able to detect it. And she wanted him to know something was off before he came back into his room.

She smiled with big doe eyes at a man who was leering at her. She tried not to smirk when his bought companion for the hour grabbed him roughly by the chin and shoved her tongue down his throat.

Never get between a woman and her money.

The balding man would all but forget about her, making her nothing more than a passing thought. Sakura crossed the hall. The letters painted on the door read twelve. She repeated her trick. The door clicked open. Sakura furrowed her brow. Even more, the most experienced shinobi left traces of chakra - when they were sleeping. It lingered behind like a cloud of fine dust. Always there but only visible if one was looking for it.

She quickly dispelled the subtle genjutsu. It was good. But hers was better. The traps he laid did not give her much trouble. They were more nuisance than anything. Sakura made her way to the bed. She sank to the floor, flat against the disgusting carpet. She reached her arm as far as it would go, trying not to think about how her bare cheek was against the red fibers. She curled her fingers around the strap and pulled towards her.

She slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her jacket, procuring a scroll. She slipped it into his pack before returning it to its hiding spot. She reactivated the traps and the genjutsu on her way out. He was still young. He was green. He had not been thoroughly betrayed yet to gain the savvy that came from a lesson learned the hard way. He was too comfortable.

Sakura vanished from the brothel without an additional sound.

---

She had stopped wearing red because red felt like future Sakura's color. The person she would one day be, the person and life she aspired to be and have. Red was bright, hopeful, and full of vibrancy. Red demanded attention and to be noticed; things that future Sakura wanted. Red suited future Sakura.

Red did not suit her. Red was not for Sakura-No-Last-Name. So she accepted black. But that too had been a choice - an active choice. Black did not suit her when it was forced upon her. Like now. Sakura stood under her umbrella several yards from the bodies that made up the clan. Her black dress was at her knee. Her partially sheer black tights covered the rest of the skin, all the way to her toes. Her kitten heels were appropriate for the occasion. Classy and put together. It was cold enough to see her breath but she did not shiver or shudder. Just like how she could not raise her eyes to look at the photo in a black frame that was surrounded by white roses.

Inoichi was speaking. He was giving his speech. He was honoring his clansmen. He was the only one as the departed did not have anyone closer - anyone else - to uphold the responsibility. Sakura did not hear a word. Her ears were ringing. The extent of her capabilities was to stand and hold the umbrella. So she did that. Until all the feet shuffled away and there was only one umbrella left.

Even then she waited another couple of minutes before approaching him. He did not turn to acknowledge her. She stood at his shoulder with two halves of two umbrellas between them with her head bowed.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said in a quiet voice that somehow rose over the rain. Or maybe it maneuvered through the droplets.

"Thank you," Inoichi's tone was polite and cordial. It was that of a stranger. But she supposed that was what they became as they no longer had a relationship. Something that she could only point the finger back at herself for.

She knew the reality as did he, as limited as the extent was. It was for the best for things to be this way. This was the only way she saw to minimize the collateral damage of her existence in this time and world. She knew firsthand how painful it was when someone you cared about walked out of your life. It left a hole that could never truly be filled. You just got better at living with it, pretending it was not there.

How could she do that to anyone in good conscience now that she knew? How could she just disappear and leave them all behind for their children? How could she do that to people she cared about? How could she do that to anyone? What would that even look like?

"How did you know him?"

Sakura inhaled the cold air into her lungs. That was one question that was straightforward but the answer was less than desirable. So like with all things Inoichi, she settled for sharing an incomplete truth.

"We went on a few missions together."

Inoichi moved his eyes to the middle. He looked at that smiling face encased in the glass. "After spending nearly a decade in ANBU, he died on a B-Rank mission as a Jonin." The man clicked his tongue. "Life is not at all how I expected it to be."

Her lips nearly curled up in her bitterness that she could not contain any longer. "Life is fragile." Time even more so from what she was learning.

"Kai was a bit of a hothead," Inoichi sighed slowly. "I think he was seeing someone."

It took everything for her to not overtly react to the comment. Sakura's grip around the white rose in her left hand tightened.

Maybe you were right Inner. Maybe he wasn't discrete.

"He was calmer. Less angry," Inoichi carried on. His blue-green eyes regarded Sakura's unreadable face. "He had a band around his wrist."

A band?

She blinked slowly.

"Why would a man with hair close to his head need a band?" Inoichi asked the grave marker, rhetorically. The answer was resounding silence broken up by the rain.

The missing hair tie.

Realization hit her right in the gut.

"That's why I waited," Inoichi shifted his weight on his feet. The rain was falling harder now. "I was looking around for a face I was not expecting to be here." There was gravity in his voice, a factor of heaviness.

"For the mystery woman to show up."

Why weren't you careful? Why didn't you watch your back when you knew no one else was there to do it for you?

"Maybe it wasn't as serious as you believed," something compelled her to speak out loud so that she would have something other than her thoughts screaming at her. Another teammate she could not save for the ones that did not even exist yet.

"Maybe," Inoichi nodded his head in agreement. "Kai didn't know how to talk to people. He just said whatever came to mind. He had no filter."

"I thought you're only supposed to say nice things about the deceased." Deceased, the sanitation provided no comfort. Dead was dead no matter how much you dressed it up.

"The truth doesn't change just because someone is no longer breathing," Inoichi answered thoughtfully. "I guess I was wrong." He regarded the picture with solemn features. "Maybe he was not seeing someone."

Why weren't you careful?

Guilt constricted her airways. She made a noncommittal sound. She heard the wet gravel being crunched along with the rustle of his clothes. He half turned to face her. She mimicked his gesture.

"How have you been, Sakura?" He addressed her for the first time with traces of familiarity, maybe even warmth. Or maybe it was just marginally less cold than the ambient air that she stood in.

"The same," she answered, uninspired.

"Kaachan has been asking about you."

The guilt grew in magnitude. Inoichi saw her grow visibly uncomfortable into something that could pass as a human. There was truth in the vulnerability.

"Take care, Sakura." He turned the rest of the way. His back was now to the marker.

Sakura.

Inner's voice gave her the second approval she needed for the idea she could not let go of. The idea that had been plaguing her mind day and night when she could afford a thought; when a thought would not lead to her being killed.

"Inoichi," she called out just loudly enough over the rapid raindrops. He lifted his umbrella and looked over his shoulder. There was nothing on his face. The mask of neutrality was presented before her.

"I need your help," she said the words that were not easy to form or say. There were always exceptions to rules and self-imposed mandates.

Developing a jutsu.

She finished in her mind. She knew that link was still there. Similar to the one Inoichi left in Shikaku's and Choza's heads. The one that let them all talk to each other without a single hand seal. She just had to be the one to pick up first because he was always listening. Something she could always count on.

Because we were so successful the last time? He answered in her head with a scoff.

His eyes were cold and calculating. It almost took her back to the beginning when she walked into his family's flower shop with a half-baked strategy.

You truly are too kind to me, Inoichi.

A thought not shared with the man. It would only embarrass him and humanize her. Sakura turned her back. She slowly set the rose on top of the marker where all the others were.

We didn't fail.

His expression grew more grave than the polished maker that read the name of his brethren: Yamanaka Kai.

---

She watched the Uchiha boy as he challenged her sensei. He broke the mold of everything she knew an Uchiha to be - in her defense, she met less than a handful in her entire life. He was loud, abrasive, he did not think, he was rash, he was far from composed - he was human. And she could see just why someone like him would get under her sensei's skin. The girl - the one that Obito said she reminded him of - was watching on with a worried look on her face. Sakura saw herself on the hospital rooftop, running between two jutsu of her teammates that would surely kill her. Two juvenile Gods going at it for the first time with electricity and wind. What hope did she, a mere mortal - daughter of civilians - possibly have amongst them?

Watching the boys grapple in the dirt - because Obito had dragged Kakashi down to his level, quite literally with a headlock - had her thinking about how it was possible that one of those boys would grow up and risk the fate of the world but all she had to do was remind herself that nothing was ever that simple. She sighed and vanished from the trees surrounding The Academy.

She had lived through this all once. She did not need to stick around to know what happened next.

---

She had stopped caring what people said somewhere between thirteen and sixteen. Right around the time when her life was not just her own anymore; when she had bigger things to worry about than the mouths that changed direction with less notice than the wind. But then at eighteen, she became ANBU where whisper and rumor were just other words for claims that were yet to be corroborated; a lead to track down. She was listening; always listening. Often in plain sight. Because people forgot just how little privacy there was in the world, especially in open spaces.

It did not take long even for the words to come spilling out like a leak in a pipe. She had been shocked at first but quickly the novelty wore off. She hated being bound to the village. There were distractions around every corner. She found herself wondering often if this was what compelled Sasuke to leave. Because even as he tried his hardest to isolate. It was nearly impossible to be fully isolated while moving through society. People got attached. Even ninja - not that she could claim to be a good one in the beginning stages - got attached. Hell, even Kaka-Sensei whose life was filled with tragedy from loss after loss had gotten attached. No one was immune.

But even while in the firm grips of the depths of her despair had to acknowledge some semblance of reality. She was still human. So human in fact, that no act of divine intervention was saving her. The one and only one she had, condemned her. She was human so that meant she needed rest. The breakneck pace she was doing missions was not sustainable, especially considering how for each mission that was official she was also in tandem completing one that was far from. So it was moments of her weakness born from being human that had her amongst the other humans.

She would have spent what time - this time - with him. But he was no longer an option. He was dead and gone. Probably already into his next life, his next iteration as a baby who was just old enough to keep his eyes open for minutes on end. Another place of solace was taken from her. Yamanaka Kai. She did not know if she had ventured down to his favorite watering hole as a tribute or an act of desperation. She was all out of alcohol back at her place and she really did not have the energy to go to the convenience store down the block and purchase some.

Yet, she had the energy to pick up a black shirt that did not smell too offensive - she had not gotten around to doing her laundry because of her priorities - from the pile of clothes on her floor and tugged it over her head. It had been wishful thinking or maybe a premonition that she found a short black skirt - just long enough to hide the scars - to tuck it into. She tamed her disheveled locks by running her fingers through them a couple of times and she almost looked presentable. Almost. Well, enough for her needs.

She had not even sat down for ten minutes when her ears picked up two names connected by a single breath: Minato and Kushina. She had heard the rumor - from Danzo's mouth even if the words were not meant for her ears - that the Namikaze was helping the Uzumaki learn to control the Kyuubi inside of her belly. It made sense. It was a decree from the Hokage himself. From what Naruto told her, Kushina did not start to see Minato in a positive way until after he saved her from Kumo's kidnapping attempt. But Sakura ruined that, inadvertently but it had happened all the same. She took away that instrumental bonding moment for the two of them. And things had been slower. Surely, Minato of that time would have offered to help Kushina without the Hokage ever needing to get involved. They were already in love after all.

It was only a matter of time before history repeated itself and they fell for each other, for good. They were still fundamentally the same people. And it was insanity to think that doing the same thing would yield different results. They made sense. They were made for each other. Minato was good for her. And she was good for him. They would see that. She just had to stay out of the way and let the natural progression happen no matter how badly she wanted the process to be expedited. Because try as she might, she could not quite close the door on the pesky voice in her head that said there was hope yet still. Hope for her.

Maybe they can bond over how horrible of a person I am.

Nothing quite brought people together like mutual dislike. And she had given Minato more than enough reason to hate her. Even more so than she had given Kushina who she could not even remember saying more than two words to all this time. She had been too shy and jealous in The Academy and she doubted Kushina wanted to hear a word she had to say now. It was much too late. The mere idea of that bridge was abandoned before it could even think to connect them.

She raised her whiskey to her mouth and took a slow sip. It warmed before it burned. The smokiness filled her nose and nearly had her eyes watering. She was happy for them. She was happy for Naruto. Or so she told herself. Maybe if she repeated it enough she would eventually believe it.

They were on their first date. If the mouths moving excitedly in the bar were to be believed. The Prodigy and the Red Hot Hobinario. The town was bursting at the seams of the latest news. The possibilities were endless. They were polar opposites in many regards and it was something that was hard for people to wrap their feeble minds around. So they talked loud and fast in circles. There was even sobbing in a corner as a group of women who had their hearts recently broken by the news. The bar she had mindlessly walked into was turning into a circus. And she was the biggest clown.

Because at that moment, Naruto's face in her head turned into Kushina's. His bright smile turned into an equally dark frown. And she was left with a knot in her stomach that threatened to make it hard to breathe. And it did not take long for the face to change again to one with wheaty skin, sunshine yellow hair, and ocean blue eyes.

I will always find you, Sakura.

Her eyes began to sting as she remembered what it felt like to be found by him; how it felt each and every time he found her.

I'm not worth remembering, worth holding onto.

The proof was evident in the lives her friends - her world - led. Talk meant nothing when the conviction behind it was shaky. He would forget all about her in every capacity. It was only a matter of time. Time he would have much more of.

Even always has an expiration date.

It was settled. Right now, thoughts of Kushina were off-limits. The same with Minato. And slowly just like Naruto. Because it was impossible to think of one without the other two now that the association was firmly cemented in her mind. Naruto was no longer safe.

Was he ever?

Sakura slammed her hand on the counter, she stood up abruptly not seeing the eyes that eyed her in surprise. She threw back the rest of her drink, catching the dribble with the side of her wrist. She threw the ryo on the counter. Her eyes found the pair of crimson irises that had been on her all night. She held his gaze. An unspoken invitation was accepted. She pushed away from the bar and walked to the alley exit.

The air was cold. It nipped at her skin, turning her nose from pink to red. The brick that she felt herself being pressed against was cold and grimy with an unexplained slickness but she hardly noticed.

"Are you married?" She asked him, not quite looking him in the eye. "Attached?"

"No," his breath fanned her face.

Good enough for me.

Sakura found his open mouth with hers. He kissed her hard enough to bruise. Her crossed ankles rested against the small of his back. He swallowed back her whimper of a name that was not his as he began to thrust.

She stared up at the stars through the dark of his hair.

Why weren't you careful?

---

Sakura ignored the beady eyes that stared at her with palpable worry as she marked yet another location on the map that would need to be monitored long-term. There were traces of activity or plans of it. The location was good, hidden away, and hard to get to but there were still major roads within a couple of hours of travel - nothing for shinobi and very accessible for transport carts. The groundwork for electrical lines and water pipes was already laid. This location was much closer to being a fully functional base than the other bunkers and caves she had come across. Maybe it would take as little as six months for it to be operational. That in itself warranted a closer look.

The eyes blinked in an audibly wet sound. It was strange, the being they were tied to a being who was older than her - eons older - but when she looked into those eyes she saw the innocence of a child. Maybe it was because she was not human at all. She was not corrupted by the ways of the shinobi world.

"Katsuyu-sama," Sakura closed the scroll and sealed it with her own blood. It would self-destruct before it allowed eyes not meant for it to read its contents. A true boon of having Tsunade take her on as an apprentice yet again, Sakura signed the Slug Contract a few days after it became apparent she had a knack for this in her shishou's amber eyes.

"Please hold onto this for me." She held out the small scroll to the miniature version of her summon.

The slug hesitated, she blinked slowly in judgment. "Sakura," Katsuyu stretched out her name. "You look terrible."

"I'm fine," she did not smile. Neither of them would have found the gesture to be convincing or reassuring. "If I don't reach out to you in a couple of days," Sakura's eyes darkened slightly at the prospect of what she was about to say. "I need you to get in touch with Tsunade-sama and give her everything."

Katsuyu did her slow blink again. Her left eye closed before her right. So human-like in her nonverbal communication.

"I'm working on the other end, still," Sakura answered the silent question with a sigh. It took time to establish trust. She knew that but she felt restless from the impatience anyway.

"Understood." The slug wrapped herself around Sakura's hand, pulling the scroll into her body as she moved back.

Sakura smiled this time. She felt rejuvenated from that small bit of contact. "Thank you, Katsuyu-sama." She dipped her head in her profound gratitude. The scrolls would be safe in Shikkotsu Forest.

"Be careful, Sakura." The slug vanished with a small popping sound.

"I always am."

She slowly rose to her feet. She grabbed onto a boulder to steady herself as she vomited onto the barren, cracked ground.

---

They were officially bound together by a label but as she watched them fumble, fight, and dissolve into a fit of hysterics that had her rolling her eyes they were still a long way from being a true team at least out in the field. But she supposed that today was a promising start. They needed more time. Time was quickly running out, her little deflections could only hold up for so long.

We should pull Sensei into the ground. Give him some time to reflect.

She smirked at the thought. Young Kakashi did need a humbling. Maybe two. He was pretty insufferable. She lingered longer than she should have because before she could form the seal to whisk herself away she felt his eyes looking straight at her through her simple single-layered genjutsu - a genjutsu that was still too complex for Obito's eyes to see through. She expelled all the air from her lungs involuntarily.

"They're gone," Minato said unnecessarily, uncrossing his arms and frowning at her. They had frolicked off - Rin pulled both the boys with her as she skipped - to grab a celebratory meal as a team. An invitation that was politely declined by their sensei.

The colors swirled as the genjutsu was deactivated. She leaned back against the bark of the tree. Her dark cloak provided some insulation from the cool of the shade.

"They've made progress," she said in her disguised voice. Not that it mattered. There was no hiding from him.

Minato - who wore a frown because he could not see her face under her white mask with red markings, so different from the one he had last seen her in - nodded his head.

"They learned the true meaning of the bell test today."

Pride warmed his words just enough to be recognized by an ear accustomed to his nuances. Seeing him in this role again - in an official sense - validated the belief she held long before she knew his fate. He was a great teacher. He had a lot to offer but he was not given favorable circumstances to show it off in earnest. A consequence of his own success and strength. He was simply too valuable to be tethered to those who slowed him down. In theory and sometimes in practice, just about anyone could be a Jonin instructor. Even the most mediocre. But there was only one Yellow Flash. That moniker pulled him in every direction Konoha needed. It was his burden. Minato was unable to save anyone he cherished. Anyone beyond Naruto. And even the boy was far from unscathed, forever marked by the night that took his parents from him.

Sakura smiled as she reined in her own thoughts to the present, the future's past. It was interesting that it was Kakashi of all people - her stoic, pint-sized sensei, the one who saw himself most in Sasuke - who was able to pick up on what was underneath the underneath.

"Got any observations to share?" He raised a brow, not satisfied with her level of engagement.

Don't read into it. He means nothing by it.

She ignored the way her stomach fluttered at his offhanded question.

He was just making conversation.

And from what she learned from Naruto, his father while appearing smooth and social was far from. He was a wallflower. He liked to observe before he engaged. But even she knew that from all those Wednesdays back at the orphanage.

"Keep a close eye on them," she tried to keep her tone as neutral as possible removing the ominousness of her message because she did not have the time or temperament for his questions.

"Can you be more specific?" The frown had grown in magnitudes, it took over his whole face. It was all she saw.

Sakura sighed behind her mask. Root had done a number on her social skills. She owed Sai more patience and an apology.

"Just don't let them out of your sight when you're out of the village. Trust me you don't want to find out what happens if you do."

She vanished amongst the wind before he could pose a counter-question. Short but far from sweet.

So much for not being foreboding.

She fully acknowledged to herself that she could have handled that much better but sometimes there was understanding in simplicity. He would listen. She believed that he would listen. He cared about them. She had seen the torment on his face when he realized the path Obito had taken. He did not even hold a grudge against the teen who put his whole world at risk.

Minato would do right by them. He would take care of them. All she had to worry about was keeping the circumstances favorable.

The four walls of her bedroom surrounded her. Long gone were the days of her warding against shushin. Just as the days she opened her linen curtains. She was ANBU now. She was Root. She was too lazy to find a place to change before appearing at her door. Wasting chakra on an illusion each time did not appeal to her either. If someone really wanted to break in, they were more than welcome to. Disappointment would be all that they found.

Sakura put her mask on her desk. She unzipped her boots, letting them fall where she stepped. She slung her cloak on the back of her chair. The arm and chest guards were the next things to fall on the ground. She peeled off her pants, leaving herself in just her black cotton panties and her high-neck sleeveless shirt. She fell into her bed. And fell asleep immediately.

In two short hours, a crow was pecking at her window with her next summon attached to his leg. Sakura sighed and got up to let it inside. It flew to the back of her chair and tilted its head.

"Don't look at me like that," she muttered tiredly as her brain worked sluggishly to try to think about what the summon could be about. The color was all wrong, not the one she was expecting. She stretched to remove the last traces of sleep from her person.

---

She knew what she was doing was selfish. She had known it even then back when she started, before she knew the full extent of everything. She should have left it well enough alone. Who he turned out to be was very admirable given his conditions. And people got attached. The break was always more painful than the build. Always. Despite knowing all of this, she impeded his life. She encroached on it.

But what was she to do? Watch him grow up alone?

Maybe future Sakura would have not thought anything of it because she only claimed to understand loneliness when she begged Sasuke to not defect from his home, - their home - the depths of solitude. But this Sakura, this Sakura endured loneliness. She felt it in her person and carried it in her bones. Loneliness was in many ways - the only way that really mattered - the longest relationship she had.

And she would not wish it upon her worst enemy. Because loneliness was dehumanizing. Loneliness was a darkness that spread slowly, gradually as it seeped into you until everything was weighted down in it. As if it were made of lead. Loneliness impedes rational thought. It changed everything. It made you less like yourself. Loneliness was an illness.

So she had to do something. And that was precisely what brought her here. Outside. Standing under the tree that was across the way from his home. Her chakra, unlike her, was unmasked. She tried not to count down the seconds in her head. She had never had to wait this long before. The handle made of braided twine was growing rougher in her hand with each passing second in correspondence with the bag becoming heavier.

The yellow light at the bottom of the door spread out a foot into the street. She held her breath as a hair of messy silver hair appearing almost the same color as the light came into view. He crossed his arms and stared at her indifferently.

"Who are you?" Kakashi's nonplussed voice asked and she tried not to feel guilty about allowing so much time to pass since the last time she allowed for an interaction to take place. Her baskets that had been left at his doorsteps were just to assuage her guilt for her cowardice. He deserved better than her excuses about being busy. But the truth of her needing time to get her head on right was too much to pull him into.

She held up her arm. The scent of salt-broiled saury and miso soup wafted over to his mask-covered nose. He stepped back toward the house, leaving the door open without breaking eye contact. She dipped her head in communicating she understood before picking up her left boot-clad foot.

xXx

"You've gotten better at Go," she said conversationally as she stared up at the stars. Like thousands of mirrors that caught reflections of bright white light.

"I play with Sensei sometimes after our training sessions," Kakashi answered. "He never lets me win."

She laughed behind her mask. "I don't let you win either, you've genuinely improved."

"Liar-liar," he deadpanned. Kakashi brought his ice cream to his lips. "Do you have a freezer sealed away in there?" He gestured vaguely in her direction.

"Water release," she said with a shrug. "Helps keep it cold." She could suddenly feel the heat behind his gaze from his side-eye.

"You shouldn't use jutsu for such trivial things. It's disrespectful," he reprimanded her with such a level of conviction that if she closed her eyes, she could picture a man in his thirties and not a nine-year-old boy.

If only your voice dropped.

It would go a long way to helping with the mental image.

"Do you have a mission or something?"

He said the very words that caused the warmth left by the meal, a couple of games of Go, to completely expel from her person. She sighed before settling on her back on his roof. Her hands came to rest across her stomach.

"I leave in a couple of hours, Kakashi-kun." The words were heavy. They sank to the gravel-filled streets of Konoha.

"How long?" He asked in a voice much too small for her to remember.

I don't know.

"Could be short. Could be long. Let's just say a while to be on the safe side." She had tucked away the details for her to revisit on her journey. It would be a long one. "I won't be able to write."

And neither could he. He would understand all that was unsaid.

A glob of thick white cream fell until it was no longer visible to his eye. Kakashi watched his angled ice cream cone melt. His appetite was forgotten. His writs circled the hand holding it, arms propped up on his raised knees.

"You'll be careful?"

She hummed. "I will. And I expect the same from you. Watch your back out there. And your teammate's backs. Being a prodigy does not grant you any kunai-deflecting superpowers."

She knew the full extent of the hypocrisy of her statement. She held no right to say it, to string together those collection of words. She had no credibility, both her former teammates were dead. All after she left them, she abandoned them.

Learn from my mistakes, Sensei. Don't make the same ones.

"I know that," he rolled his eyes but she could tell that his heart was not in it. His lips barely moved.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Go to Oda-san. I left money with her. I asked her to check-in on you. So don't give the poor woman a heart attack by trapping her or something when she stops by. Expect a drop-in every couple of days." Her tone was sharp, one that promised repercussions if he disobeyed.

"That was one time," Kakashi scowled. "And I'm not a baby!" He said indignantly, with offense.

"Still," she turned back to the stars. "It would be one less thing for me to worry about if you just cooperated."

"She smells like mothballs," he grimaced. "And she talks so much."

"Anyways," they said in unison, sharing a laugh and a chuckle at the elderly woman's ability to uphold a one-sided conversation without the other person uttering a peep. "Anyways" was her leeway into a different conversation topic to prolong the suffering. The longest she managed to hold her before the pinkette ultimately discreetly switched places with a clone was forty-five minutes. And that all started with her saying the word "hello". That was it and Oda-san was off.

I&T really should look into hiring her.

More shinobi would sing like songbirds just to get her to shut up. She believed it in her bones.

"And she feeds all these stray cats. They follow her around. She's always covered in their fur," Kakashi lamented, wrinkling his nose in displeasure. "They would not hesitate to eat her when she dies."

She rolled her eyes. "Be nice." She sighed. "Don't agitate the cats. Just ignore them like they do to you. Oda-san's heart is in the right place."

"Fine," Kakashi grumbled his acceptance, begrudgingly. He did not fail to notice that she did not disagree with any of his statements. The ice cream has completely melted. Fallen off to the ground below. If it landed on someone they would be scratching their head wondering what kind of bird produced such sweet-smelling excrement.

"Shouldn't you be resting or preparing?" He tried and failed to keep the worry from his voice.

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be." Her smile could be heard in her voice.

Kakashi turned his head to hide the flush on his face caused by her statement. "I miss the old mask."

"Me too," she said softly.

The Hatake leaned back on his palms. They watched the stars for a couple more hours before she had to go.

She had reached over to ruffle his hair in the way she knew he hated, he caught her off guard with a hug around the middle. It would have been sweet if Kakashi had not been a little shit and droned on and on about how he lost total confidence in her abilities if she could not see that one coming. Her huff and eye-roll were not without warmth.

She left Konoha lighter than she felt in months.

---

The soft midday spring breeze moved through her hair that was pinned to the side of her head in an effortless bun held in place by a single red clip in the shape of a butterfly. The large Sakura to her back was twisted with age and grace. The bark was gray against the clear blue sky. The barely pink buds were within a day of opening to reveal their colors to a house full of waiting eyes. Her pale fingers danced over the clear surface of the pound. The reflection of her jade eyes was muddled before the picture was disrupted by the ripples generated by a single, mindless action. She wore a small smile whose influence did not stretch beyond her painted wine-colored lip.

The rapid beating of wings too quick to catch with the naked eye buzzed around her. Her smile became less artificial and more genuine as she regarded the blue and green wings that appeared magenta in the light. So many colors and details on such a tiny being. Her eyes followed the hummingbird as it hovered around her. Moments such as these were her reprieve. The voice in her head, the solace that protected her was silent. She took everything so that the woman she was on the outside could function. Ever since her memories had been fully unlocked what had once been the sealed rooms in the labyrinth that was her mind now stored her trauma. The trials and tribulations she underwent to be right where she was supposed to be. Thousands of kilometers from a place that was the closest thing she had to home. Three thousand and five hundred kilometers and one thousand two hundred four days, roughly. That was how far she was away from the life she could have. That was the life she fought for.

If she had any hope of seeing that version of herself again - because there can only be one of her at any given time - she could not fail. She had to succeed in her mission objective. The bird circled before it darted out of sight. It took the rest of her smile along with it. The koi moved lazily at the bottom of the pond. They could afford to spend the day in leisure. Leisure was the one thing she could not afford in this life.

"Akira-hime!"

The woman turned her head at the sound of the name and title. She was far from a hime and she had told him as such but he still insisted on addressing her in that manner. She saw a kind-faced brunette walking towards her. He was young, no older than thirteen. She found herself not having to fake the expression on her face when she greeted him.

"Hiro-kun," her voice was smooth and pleasant, a conscious effort was placed into lilting it just so. The personification of feminine. Not a threat. A facade.

"You have a visitor, Akira-hime." Hiro smiled at her. His cheeks were slightly flushed not from the sun of the heat but rather because of her. He had a bit of a crush and it was all corroborated by the fact that he could not raise his eyes to meet hers.

Akira kept her expression neutral, namely keeping the surprise she felt off her features. The surprise gave way to dread before her training took over.

"A visitor?" She blinked her jade orbs and tilted her head to the side slightly.

"Your cousin." Hiro nodded his head as he explained. His kimono was made of soft cotton and the color of wheat. "They are waiting for you in the parlor of the guest house."

"I see," she smiled at him. Her eyes softened. She mussed his brown mop of hair on his head. "Thank you, Hiro-kun." She gathered the hem of her kimono in her hands and walked carefully over the wooden bridge over the koi pond. She pretended not to notice how Hiro was left a stuttering mess with a face red enough to compete with the shell of a lobster. It was mildly amusing.

Her movements were fluid and nonrushed. But she walked with purpose. It was subtle but if one looked with the correct eyes one could see the gait of a kunoichi tucked away under layers of lilac fabric decorated with soft pink, white, and purple flowers.

She nodded and smiled at the faces, even exchanging a few pleasantries as she entered the small private garden that led up to the wooden structure of the house that she occupied. She calmed her mind, not allowing it to race with all the possibilities of what this unannounced visit could mean. She did her best to remain vigilant and gather intel but she was still very far from home. She was at a loss for what to expect. But she exchanged her sandals for inside slippers before opening the shoji doors to the entrance or waiting area of her abode; she was certainly not expecting a tall frame, broad shoulders, and a head of sunshine-yellow hair. She could not close the door fast enough.

He turned around just as the two panels of wood met. Jade locked with cobalt and that was all it took for her stomach to flutter and her throat to go dry. She did not give him a chance to open his mouth. She narrowed her eyes and moved deeper into the home, past the wooden accents and the small kitchen with a square table large enough to seat four and pink floor cushions. Around the large Japanese Maple that the house was built around and into the simple room with a futon mattress, a dresser, and a full-length mirror. The lighting was dimmer as she did not bother with ever opening the sage-colored curtains made of thick linen. A habit she had not made a conscious effort to establish.

She did not hear him follow after her but she knew he was there even before she whirled around to fix him in place with a neutral mask.

"What's wrong?" She asked him in a voice that lacked emotion but made up for it with urgency. "Why are you here?" Her lips barely moved as she asked the question when he did not answer nearly quickly enough.

"I could ask you the same thing." He crossed his arms. The set of his jaw was far from relaxed.

Jade eyes darkened to a shade closer to emerald in a clear visual warning of her growing anger. "What about the mission has changed? Do you have new information?" Her mind raced as her eyes moved side to side, studying every line, groove, and pore for hints; for anything that explained everything. His slipped-clad feet - pink slippers - were pointed in her direction. There were no distractions to his focus.

She felt something rise in her at the blank look on his face. It was not pleasant.

"Are there new orders?" She struggled to keep her voice contained as she nearly barked out the inquisition that surly explained his presence. Here. Away from her. In front of her for her to address and deal with.

His blond brow furrowed as his cobalt eyes searched her face almost languidly. Like he was enjoying a vacation from his mission-riddled life.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath but still just loud enough for him to make sense of so that he knew exactly how inconvenienced she was. "How did you know it was me?" She asked him after pinching her nose in annoyance. Her hands always had a mind of their own.

"Doesn't take a genius," he sounded offended but his face did not match the tone. "An uptick in earthquakes, stomach-related illness outbreaks, mudslides," he listed without color. "You've been keeping busy."

"Are you going to blame me for the cicada infestation too?" She was just in time for their seventeen-year lifecycle. "To round out the signs of the apocalypse?" She asked, jeeringly. The war and the bugs already staked a claim on famine. And war, Kami war was breathing down her neck day in and day out.

"The Hime and the Pea." He countered without any change to his visage, revealing his trump card. "Akira."

The right corner of Sakura's lips twitched before she could school her features. She refused to entertain the thought in her head that he remembered her favorite book which coincidentally he gave her. And she would never admit to him that she still had the book - the one with his initials on the inside cover written by his own hand - in her room as it was one of the handful of personal effects she had in this world, in this form and lifetime.

"I will ask you this one more time," each word was layered with just simmering anger that was ready to overflow for him to deal with. "What are you doing here? Why are you risking my mission? One I spent the last nine months of my life embedding myself in." She dared him to answer. He may not be well known yet but it was beyond reckless for him to cross enemy lines with his bare face visible. His appearance was distinctive enough.

At least the bozo had enough sense to leave his hitai-ate back home.

Minato took in her hair dyed three shades darker in a magenta hue. He took her in slowly, convincing himself that she was okay. No one had seen her for months. No one knew where she was. Not even Kakashi. The last person to see her. To talk to her. His eyes swept her large barren forehead until his gaze settled on hers.

"I know what you're trying to do, Sakura." Minato's voice was soft but it did not lack strength or command. If anything he exerted more control of the situation and that drove her crazy. He was the one in the wrong. His presence was sanctioned behind enemy lines all the way in Tsuchi. He could be branded as a traitor for leaving Hi without the paperwork justifying his presence.

"Akira," she hissed, with zero patience or understanding. "And if you truly did, you would not be standing here in front of me as an obstacle."

"Is that what I've become to you, Akira? An obstacle?" There was a quiet challenge beneath the calm; a storm brewing. She saw it in the depths of his eyes. They betrayed him always in his moments of profound anger. The question was not even remotely rhetorical. It was more honest than the dye of her hair and the makeup on her skin. He was not the one here under false pretenses.

"It's what you've always been." Sakura jutted her chin out in defiance. She refused to show him any signs of weakness. What she said was true. He was nothing more than an obstacle ever since all her memories of a life she had already lived became unlocked at the age of seventeen three years ago, explaining almost everything to her.

"You're risking everything by being here," she pressed on.

Despite everything she knew him and the hurt buried deep in the torrents that made up his blue, blue eyes cut into her. Because no matter how much she tried, tried, tried her heart was still not dead. He held it - her heart, broken and as small as it was - in his hand and she had no right to ask for it back just because she had given it to him so carelessly. That was not his fault. It was her own.

I did this. I did all of this.

"Nothing is worth the risk," Minato took a step towards her and it took everything not to take one back because he shifted the very ground underneath her feet. He made her unstable. The time apart only made her more susceptible to his pull, to his magnetism. He would be her undoing and she could not have that.

Sakura-chan! Ever since we got caught up in Tobi's Tsukuyomi I could not help but wonder what it was like to have the love of my parents growing up.

She shuddered as she recalled Naruto - his son - explaining everything to her in her mind. He had given up eternal peace for one more chance and Sage had chosen her. How could she deny him? How could she say no? After everything he did for her? After everything she endured? How could she throw it away for something that would never be hers? She would be exactly what Kushina accused her of being if she did: worthless trash.

"Don't," she held up her hand as she moved back. Her back pressed up against the thin wooden wall of the room.

"Nothing is worth the risk."

He had been patient; he believed more than patient. He had to see with his own two eyes that she was alright. That she was alive. It was a hazard not knowing. Not knowing would get him killed. He could not afford to be distracted by thoughts of what her state, condition, circumstances, and challenges were while out there in the field. The scenarios were endless and growing more bleak and dark with each rise and setting of the sun. That was how he justified it to himself to come before her. It was a necessity. A requirement. A prerequisite for him to do his damn job. Just as she was. The job that put her thousands of kilometers away from him. In harm's way. At everyone's mercy.

He had to see her. And what he saw was something that he found hard to stomach. It was one thing hearing the rumors - he had cost the bastard a handful of teeth for the garbage he was spewing, only for his composure to restrain his venom at the last second, Hiraishining himself out of there - but another to see the corroboration, the confirmation. With his own two blue eyes. His dark eyes were as hard as sapphires as he mapped out the marks marring her neck and decolletage, poking through the thin layer of makeup. His stomach churned with a mix of unease and anger. She was not wearing a nagajuban - the white underlayer of the kimono - which caused her kimono to reveal more than it was designed to without the sharp white collar around her neck. Almost as if she could not be bothered to deal with shedding another layer like it would only slow her down and that was unacceptable. Which could only mean she was not wearing all those layers of fabric around her stomach either. Each layer was held together by the tradition of generations past. Layers that would give someone pause before unwrapping. Yet another deterrent, missing. His mind was running wild with the culmination of the two points: the lack of clothing layers and the abundance of applied coverup layers. The opposing nature of the two things and how they were connected. His throat went dry at the sight of things only he could see. Things he could only use his imagination for, a while someone else - another man, a stranger - got to experience. Forced her to experience. His conviction tempered to steel.

Unyielding. Unbending. Unmovable.

She caught the path of his eyes and smirked haughty.

"The Daimyo's neck likes to leave marks on mine," she tilted her head to the side to give him a better view of the various stages of healing. She did not flinch when his hands came to rest on the wooden panels behind her head. The wood creaked from the pressure he applied on the surface.

Restraint; she was testing his right now. She could feel his rage coming off his stoic veneer. His eyes nearly calcified her into a statue of bone.

"Is this what Shimura-sama uses you for?" Minato asked with his eyes practically slits and his jaw clenched so tight she could hear his teeth creak, begging to allow a groan he was holding back past them.

"You're his strongest Root operative. You are the strongest kunoichi in Konoha. Less than a handful of its shinobi can keep up with you, and this is how he sees fit to use you?" He asked, disgusted. Hatred burned for the raven-haired man, deep in his belly. Like poison it clung to him, corrupting everything.

He did not come here to argue with her. But that just seemed to be the only manner in which they could communicate with each other. Through disagreement, anger, frustration. Disharmony; born from a lack of fundamental understanding.

Sakura laughed. This caught him off guard for a moment, his anger giving way to confusion. Indecision bled into his dark, dark eyes. So clouded and hazy.

"I accepted this mission," Sakura angled her head back so that she was staring at him full-on. "It's not my first of this kind. Probably won't be my last if you don't end up costing me my life." Gone was the pleasant lilt. All that was left was defiance and scorn. Because she had no other language that she could speak to him but this.

"Sakura," her name came out more as a groan of frustration than anything else out of his lips. "When I'm Hokage I will do away with seduction missions. You and no one else will have to use their bodies in this way again." Traces of desperation lingered in his voice.

"What would that accomplish? It's no different than what was done in the past, than what is asked of others," she spat. "Will you also do away with the need for the jinchuriki? What about the bijuu? How will Konoha feel, the Daimyo of Hi feel when you bring these big ideas to the table?" She ridiculed him. He would be demoted - encouraged to step down - so quickly it would leave his head spinning. And that was the best-case scenario. In the worst, he would be assassinated in his sleep. Probably by Root. Danzo - the twisted bastard - would probably send her to carry it out. They would label him a threat to the village. He was delusional.

How did he not see that?

Sakura-chan, my Kaachan was filled with love. Love that my Tochan had for her. Love that they had for me before they even met me. That's why I had to, Sakura-chan. That's why I had to give this life business one more try. One last time. For them. For me.

Love. He did it for love. Their love. The kind of love that went beyond death. That extended beyond lifetimes. The kind of love that compelled Minato to seal himself - his soul - in the belly of the Shinigami for all of eternity to fight with the other trapped souls. The price of the Death Reaper Seal, the seal that broke the cycle of reincarnation forever - almost forever, assuming a forbidden jutsu was not cast. The steep price of keeping his son alive and protecting his village.

The kind of love that was not in Sakura's fate. It was never her fate. That was the kind of love Minato had for Kushina. And it was about damn time that he recognized it.

"Spend your time being outraged over the fact a six-year-old girl was ripped from her home and everyone she loved to travel across an ocean with strangers to be the vessel all for a village her village had established ties to long before she was even born. Because she was seen as special. Because of something she had no control over."

Go save her. Go find her.

"T-that is not the same," he recovered quickly after his initial stammer.

"It is the same. It's worse," Sakura hissed. "The glaring differences were that I was an adult when this all started and I had a choice. She was a child when this burden was placed on her. She did not. Her body is no more her own than mine is. She is seen and treated as the communal property of the village. So am I."

He swallowed painfully, her words entered the air before he breathed them in. barbed wire. It felt like he was trying to work down barbed wire.

"I just need time. I can fix it. Change will come." He would make it happen. They could make it happen even faster if she worked with him, not against him. They could do great things together. Things such as making sure no child had to go through what Kushina did, what Mito did. What Sakura did.

Trust me. He stopped himself from saying out loud. Just trust me.

"Leave Root and come back with me."

Come back with me. She nearly shivered as the sentiment repeated in her head.

"Lofty words." She blinked slowly and spoke clearly, clearing herself of duality. It was true. No one left Root unless it was as a corpse and she had too much to do to die just yet. Because her death had to mean something to compensate for her life being meaningless. Otherwise, she would come back as a bug. Or worse, the Sage might just send her back over and over and over again until the timeline had the integrity of a slice of Swiss cheese. She could be made to suffer for all eternity for this.

Who knows what attempt this is?

You're catastrophizing. There is no proof this has happened to you before.

"It's a promise, Sakura." He nearly hissed, matching the energy she projected in the opposite direction. Ice for her heat. The cracks were visible, all around her. She could hear them with each sound that rose from his chest. He was standing on thin ice. One wrong shift of the weight from being pulled into the frigid temperatures of his anger. Where he might just do something he would come to regret.

"Just trust me." He spoke over her scoff and ignored her eye roll. "Trust me." He repeated with force. "I will make things better for kunoichi, for children, for everyone. No village should have autonomy over another human's body in any way. It's not worth it. I'll make it better. I'll eliminate Root. There is no need for it. I'll fix this injustice." He spoke as if it already happened. Like it was decreed. His words were his bond. His promise to her.

"Does that include eliminating your own post?" She asked him without emotion. There was no shortage of it flickering across his eyes as understanding hit him mercilessly. "The Sandaime assigned me this mission. Not Danzo-sama. Not Root." She tilted her head to the side and smiled prettily. So cruel in her mannerisms because his eyes had become a mirror for what was in his heart. Torment. The one she was the cause of.

"How does that little factoid fit in with your big, bright, shiny picture Yondaime-sama, hm?"

Minato's silence was very telling. He did not want to believe it. It was the ground that he stood on that was now unsteady.

Sakura curled her index finger and tapped his chest with her knuckle. "That is the reality of our world. If peace is to be achieved it is through actions such as this and not talk of rainbows and grandeur. Hands need to get dirty." She pressed her lips together. "And that's just the beginning."

The cold, cold, calm surrounded him again. "When did you become so jaded, Akira?" His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. "When you joined Root," he answered his own question for her.

To which Sakura's jade eyes rolled in exasperation. "You still don't see it," frustration filled her speech from her tone to the tightness of the words.

You still don't see me.

"Be it Root or the Hokage's desk it is all connected. It is the same. It is a necessity." She tried to explain as detached as she could. She could not raise her voice. That would attract attention. Very bad attention.

"The Hokage's desk remains clean and pristine because Root is there to catch the filth before it can get close enough. A shit umbrella, shielding the immaculateness." She stared at his chest as she cut the thoughts from her mind and made them words for him to hear. She presented her perspective. Her experience as clearly as she could. "I am that umbrella that Danzo-sama holds. I am his tool. He uses me as he sees fit and I do not question it."

She knew that the words could cut him - carve into him - just as they did the same to her. Everyone had a limit. She just needed to find his. And she could be stubborn. She would outlast him. She had to. She had to protect him even if it meant from herself. Especially if it meant from her.

Naruto had to be born. He had to be an Uzumaki. Someone had to carry on the line for the next generation. The Kyuubi would need a vessel when Kushina reached up in age. And there was no doubt in her mind that Naruto was the only one who could combat the kyuubi's dark hate and anger with his light. The light that his parents - Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina - gave him. This was so much bigger than just her and her feelings. Naruto would save the world. And she had to be the one to protect his existence. That was her role.

"I am nothing more than a tool."

"No," Minato shook his head adamantly. The whole wall moved as he leaned even closer still. "You could have said no. That is the difference between the desks."

"Who would he have sent instead?" She demanded an explanation to be sacrificed, to burn through and make him feel the heat of his privilege; to warm his face in the embers of shame brought on by enlightenment. "A clan heiress? A kunoichi from the royal clans? Yoshino? Mikoto?" She paused as she moved her tongue across her painted lips. "Or should it have been Kushina, to be used by the village…again?"

"Don't," his nose brushed against hers. His hot breath fanned her face but she did not so much as blink. She would not be strayed from her objective.

"Everyone is attached in some shape or form," she reminded him harshly. "I am not. It makes me the logical choice. Me being here means Kushina does not need to be-"

He grabbed her biceps, squeezing nearly hard enough to leave bruises. She snapped her mouth closed and glared at him. Her breath nearly got caught in her chest. His eyes had lost total color. His clenched jaw and his strained teeth were the last barrier of defense that kept his thoughts and curses from crashing over her in a volatile swell.

Overwhelming. Consuming. Complete.

"This is not about her," he breathed in a hoarse whisper. "We are talking about you. Us."

"There is no us," she brought her hands to his chest. The ones he had around her tightened in response. "There is nothing to talk about." She breathed slowly through her nose, taking in cedar and sea air. Minato. She took in Minato with her breath.

"We should be talking about the war. How to avoid it. You need perspective. You need to see the bigger picture. I am insignificant in all this." She smoothed the fabric of his slate-gray kimono with gentle hands. Ash. It reminded her of the color of ash.

"Go home," she added softly. "I'm alive. And I'm smart enough to stay that way."

As long as you're not here.

The hands around her shook but did not relent. He kept looking at her. Looking for the same girl that used to call him Minato-kun and smile with such openness it made him think that everything would be okay. Her smile made every problem in the world seem small in comparison to its brightness. Over and over he kept asking himself what happened to her.

He kept waiting for her eyes to have light behind them again. A light not left by her burning anger but her happiness. The light that came from her essence, her soul. He kept looking only to keep being disappointed.

"I refuse to accept that."

"Then you are a fool," she spat, her anger came back nearly twofold. The black of her pupil but a tiny dot surrounded by emerald flame. "You are a child." Sakura shoved him away from her. "Leave, now!" She pointed in the direction they had come from. "Before you get me killed," she paused, "or worse, you undo everything I have done."

"What kind of world are you saving?" The fight that was in his bones was not completely extinguished in the heat of her vitriol. "What kind of world is it if you have to resort to this?" His voice fluctuates with emotion towards the end.

"Progress cannot come in times of challenge," she recited without color. "Improvement can only be born in an environment of peace. Address the conflict and chaos by any means so that tomorrow may be better than today." Her eyes glittered like gemstones, hard and clear. "Peace is the first step. Only after that can there be growth and betterment for the masses."

He raked his hand over his hair, pulling at the roots nearly hard enough to separate it from his scalp. He did not need a refresher lesson in Teshima's Philosophies like he was some green Genin.

"Is this truly better for the masses?" His narrowed eyes had sharpened enough to cut steel.

"Yes," she answered unwaveringly, barely giving herself time to think.

"I disagree."

Sakura sighed slowly. She clicked her tongue. "Does your girlfriend know you're here?"

"She's not my girlfriend," his exasperation burned her lungs when she breathed it in. He could not believe this was how she chose to spend the first real conversation they had in over a year. On a rumor that he was not even sure who started. A rumor that sprung to life while Sakura was still in the village. A misunderstanding between him and the Uzumaki, a miscommunication.

Why did she keep bringing the woman into this? Why?

"So you just kiss anyone now?" She cocked a brow and tilted her head. Her face left very little to the imagination of what she just thought of him at the moment.

Pathetic. She thought he was pathetic.

"And you call me a child?" He scoffed in disbelief, biting his tongue to keep from adding that Kushina was the one to kiss him. He did not reciprocate. No, admitting such would only encourage more mud-slinging from her. She had set her mind about hurting him. She wanted him gone and she was not above sinking low to facilitate his departure.

"You're an idiot," she swallowed painfully. The berates that left her mouth were leaving a trail of lesions from her mouth all the way down to her stomach. She would surely develop an ulcer. "You're blind," she pressed her lips together. "Kushina has feelings for you. Real feelings for you," she inhaled shakily. The air was too thick to breathe. But breathe it in she did, because she could not allow her voice to break on her now.

"Be a man about it."

"Stop fighting me," his hands twitched but he kept them to himself. "Listen to me-"

She shook her head.

"Go home," she cut him off, not interested in whatever he had to say. It would only hurt them both even more. Not everything needed to be said and even less needed to be heard. "I have nothing for you. I can give you nothing. There is nothing for you here." She was as clear and direct as she could be. "Go to your home."

Go to Kushina.

"That's a lie," his obduration fortified him from seeing anything other than what he believed to be true. Because he could see it in her eyes. She never taught them how to lie nearly as convincingly as the rest of her. "I'm not leaving without you." He reached out to touch the side of her face, her eyelashes fluttered closed. A curtain of pink against her skin. Her skin was so soft and warm. Supple. He took his time reacquainting himself with it. The more he touched, the lower the likelihood of him ever letting go.

"Leave it to me. I'll take care of you," he said softly, not wanting to break the fragile ceasefire. A reprieve from the fighting. "Let me take care of you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Ever again. He completed in his head what he could not bring his lips to say quite yet as he was not sure of the reception. He accepted her anger because the converse, her indifference was unacceptable. It would never be acceptable.

Her eyes popped open. Whatever moment of weakness she had was long gone. She grabbed his hips and pulled him closer. She did not miss the way his eyes widened at their sudden contact. Sakura's hands curled around his wrap belt that held together his garments. Her eyes were filled with that very distinctive emerald flame, he could see the licks of the color that burned hotter than everything else around it.

"Are you jealous?" She bit out the question with ample disgust. She did not wait for his taken-aback face to answer. "Are you wondering why you're the only man I won't drop to my knees for?"

Realization hit him fast and hard. Minato covered her hands - which were shaking - in his. He halted her movements but she did not let go of the navy obi around his waist.

"Will it finally get you to leave me alone if I do?" She looked up at him. Hurt flashed in her eyes. "Will it?"

"Sakura," he said her name moments before his jaw set in a hard line. The words 'communal property' blared inside his head so loudly that he could not hear his own thoughts. It was all novel; this had never happened to him before.

"You want to know if the rumors are true?" She carried on as if he never interrupted her. "You must feel owed it right? Since you saved me all those times. I'm only alive because of you, right? So I owe you a debt. I owe this to you." She was rattling off the words faster than they came into her mind. It would have been impressive if he made sense of even half of them. She had learned her lesson after Kai. Never the same man twice. She could not have it on their conscience for them to get attached to her. She had amassed enough bad karma for future Sakura. "Let's just get this over with so you can get this out of your system. And once your curiosity is satiated and my debt cleared-"

"Sakura," he pinned her against the wall. Her wrists were on either side of her head. His breathing was rough as he tried - seemingly to no avail - to retain control of himself and his emotions. It was a rapidly dissolving situation.

"What?" She tilted her head back and glared at him.

She could practically see the silent question in the hesitation that had flickered in his eyes - the hurt. He wondered why not him. He wondered why she did not go to him instead of first Kai and then some loud-mouthed man with black hair and red eyes that bragged to anyone who listened just what happened in that alleyway that was not painted in the light of the moon. If he wanted to know, she would make him ask. She would make him ask and she would tell him. She would lie to his face, convincingly. She would destroy any bit of warmth or fondness he had for her today. Once and for all. This had to end today so that she could finally stop having to keep hurting him and he could go to his happiness.

He was set to inherit a village soon-ish. He had much more important things to occupy his time with. She should not even be an honorable mention on the long list.

"What?!" She was pushed up against her breaking point, something she could not come back from. "Wha," the last constant of her question was just the sound of her breath. She could hear herself breathe. It was so loud.

"Don't ever talk about yourself like that again in front of me." He commanded in a low voice textured - gritty - with his anger. "Don't you ever degrade yourself this way or devalue what you mean to me. Again."

Her mouth went dry as all stages of thought left her completely on her own. A sassy or defiant statement was not in the realm of possibility for her. She blinked slowly. All she could manage was to stare.

"I won't tolerate it," he promised gruffly in a voice she was still having a hard time reconciling that it belonged to him. It was so foreign, so unexpected, so forceful…so thrilling.

His hands around her wrists tightened. His eyes were so cold that she shivered. She could have sworn she had seen his breath. It bit into her skin, settling over her pores like a cool blanket. He was right there with her. Just seconds away from coming undone. This was a Minato she had not seen before. Her chest moved up and down as she breathed, against his. His eyes - nearly white - never stopped moving. He was counting, measuring; taking inventory of all the red and purple marks visible to him. She saw the poison rise in him just as he traced down the path until it was hidden away behind a layer of purple satin. A couple of inches below her jugular notch.

It felt like she waited a lifetime, holding her breath, for his eyes to migrate back to her face. She recognized something in his eyes. He was looking at her the way her marks did but only this time, her skin did not crawl in response. Her heart skipped a beat instead. Darkening were his eyes, nearly an intense navy hue. They made her stomach burn. Her lashes were too heavy. They fluttered half over her eyes. She licked her lips slowly just as her gaze moved down the bridge of his nose. She stopped when she landed on the slightly parted mouth.

Better late than never right? She had been waiting ever since she was twelve years old. Terrified out of her mind from facing a sure death. A death that he saved her from. A death he spared her from.

It's now or never.

She continued to stare at his mouth, openly. A mouth was close enough to touch, to taste. For real. She would not have to wonder anymore.

I'm so sorry. I hope you can understand why.

A growl rose from the pit of her stomach.

Forgive me.

It was her only warning. She pulled her arms away from the wall, easily breaking out of his grip. Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck. A hand snaked to his hair, her fingers embedded themselves in the yellow locks that were softer than she could have ever imagined. She pulled him down to her. She pressed her lips to his mouth with desperation. Like he was the air she needed to breathe; like her lungs needed the air he expelled to sustain her life. Like she wanted to merge with him; to become one entity where there was no observable difference between who was Sakura and who was Minato. Just one entity that contained them both.

She kissed him again and again and again. The more she did, the hungrier she became. Her addiction grew with more exposure and repetition. Her addiction to him. Like a bad habit that she kept coming back to. She could never quite free herself of him. Even if she wanted to. And she really did not want to.

Faster, faster, faster. She nipped his jaw. More, more, more. She attacked his mouth with the fervor of a starving woman. A woman who might never receive an opportunity for this particular meal of emotions and sensations again. She finally had his touch. The touch of the one person she wanted all this time. It was his hands on her. His actual hands. And that was almost enough for her to completely let go of all semblance of control.

She set him to flame. It was after all, in her nature. She was fire. She burned hotter and stronger as she consumed him. As he grew weaker and weaker. He was melting within her heat, because of her heat. His eyes were closed as he tried to match her frantic pace. He growled when he placed the taste of what was deposited on her lips - salt - collected over time from all the tears she cried when no one was there to wipe away. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, possessively - the line was thin. It bled together in a blur that was the way she smelled of jasmine, the softness of her hair and skin, in the way she tasted. It was all much too fast. But he did not want to slow down. He was too slow. He felt half a step behind as he chased her. He was always chasing her. And he was tired of it.

She challenged him. He pushed down and locked away the small voice in the back of his mind - his conscience - that told him they should stop. Logic and rational. The part of him that pointed out they were in enemy territory and their presence - if their true identities were discovered - would result in a justifiable declaration of war, the part that screamed at him that he should be talking to her and not giving into his impulses - his desire. The same voice that told him this was not how he wanted to kiss her for the first time. The voice that reminded him that their first kiss should have been slow, sweet, patient, and most importantly, loving. It should have been solid. It should have held the promise to today, tomorrow, and every day that followed. It should have held the stability of the foundation of the life they were to build together moving on from this point. It should have signified the beginning and the end. The beginning of the rest of their lives together and the end of their solitude, their existence without the other. It should have been reassuring, gentle, and with the belief - conviction - that it was everlasting. It should not have contained elements of hunger, lust, desperation, anger, possessiveness, hurt, and ravenous. It was never supposed to start off this way.

The picture was all wrong.

But he had fumbled once already. He could not let this moment - whatever it was - pass him again. He could not be choosy. He did not want to be choosy. He would take what she gave. Whatever she gave without bias. Life was nothing like the movies or what they depicted in romance books where the couple always came together by the end. Life was messy and complicated. Life was real. She was real. In his arms. She initiated. This was what she wanted. It was what he at that moment wanted. It was not perfect or storybook or romantic. But it was real and it was really happening. So he ignored that voice of reason. Because she challenged him. She challenged his manhood.

So he would be a man about it. It was now the time to be a man about it.

He would show her just what kind of man he was. Through something that could not be easily minimized, downplayed, or misunderstood, through his actions. He would handle it. Anything that came their way. He was more than ready to accept the responsibility for his actions, her actions. He would shoulder it without complaint. All she had to do was not let go of his hand. He would handle the rest.

For her. For them.

He lifted her up by the waist, Sakura's leg curled around his hip made possible by the loosening of her corded belt and obi. He pressed her further against his chest, her back against the panel of the wall that was no longer cold. He bit her bottom lip hard enough for her to gasp. She did not fake the sounds that left her throat. She did not need to. Sakura tilted her head back, her eyelids closed heavily over her emerald irises. She was getting all the answers to the questions she had asked herself when loneliness threatened to consume her and there was only one way to fill it.

A tangle of limbs. Heavy breathing. Eyes filled with lust behind their respective closed lids. His nose dug into her cheek as he deepened, deepened, deepened the kiss. His tongue exploring her mouth, on a pilgrimage that left her aching with longing. For more. He was so close but it was still not enough. She did not see the light just yet nor experience the holiness of it all.

Please. She begged him in her head to pick up the pace.

For what he lacked in practical experience, he fell back on his theoretical knowledge amassed from being his sensei's star, prized pupil; in the form of both spoken and written word. He did not want to be left with another regret. Asking himself how things might have been different if he had just taken the lead and kissed her in the ramen stand when they were both strung out from the after-effects of the emotional turmoil of her attempted kidnapping. That was the first time he was truly scared in his life. The relief he felt drained him only so that he could fill himself with disappointment for not just crossing the rest of the way. Every time he revisited that he vowed to himself never again. Never again would he pass up an opportunity. Now was the time to back up all that thought and internal talk.

Maybe his actions would convey just how badly he needed her. In his life. In his arms. She was already in his thoughts. A fixture. Maybe she would finally understand now. Maybe she would see just how precious she was to him.

She should have been his first kiss, the very kiss that was stolen from him when his guard was down. Ironically, she had been the one on his mind so he did not see the one in front of him getting closer and closer until it was too late. But maybe it was not too late. Not everything was lost. She could be his first everything else. He wanted her to be his first everything else. She could teach him. He really did not mind.

The sounds she was making, although not quite to the extent or volume of the purple-haired woman in the picture his sensei had taken him to on his thirteenth birthday, led him to believe she was receptive to it all. She did not ask him to stop or slow down, she did not push him away. So that had to mean he was doing something right. And that brought his ego a boost and put his mind at ease in that regard. In his head was the last place he wanted to be. Not right now. When it was Sakura who was pinned against him, moaning and gasping.

He was biting, licking, sucking all the while her head spun. Her fingers in his hair curled. The other hand sank into his shoulder, scratching his skin under the kimono he wore. Her arm wrapped around his back. He did not let her catch her breath. His mouth was on hers, heavy and needy. She whimpered when his tongue slid past her lips, it was demanding as it made its case for re-entry. Just as she was getting used to it again, she felt it on her shoulder. A small gasp of surprise left her as he sank his teeth into the smooth, soft, creamy expanse of skin. He was overwriting the bites and marks that came before him in a display she opted to feel and not see. His tongue apologized every time his teeth pressed too hard. A dizzying combo of dominance and thoughtfulness.

Her head was angled towards the ceiling. Her breaths were short and hot. She dug her fingers into his scalp for balance because her legs were of no use to her any longer. The one she kept on the ground was for show. She was on her toes but leaning heavily into him as he pushed her back. He was kissing up her neck now. She mouthed words that she did not even know, just broken constants with no vowels to make any sense of them.

"I..I," she stammered her brain was firing off so rapidly that everything was overwhelmingly jumbled.

He hushed her with a hot kiss. And if she was even acutely more aware she would have realized how annoying she must have been all those times she did the same to Kai. His sucking on her pulse greedily had pushed out all thoughts not pertaining to the current blond from her mind.

No Naruto. No Sasuke. No Kakashi-sensei. No Sai. No Ino. No Kushina. Just Minato. Just Minato-kun.

Minato-kun.

She said his name needily in her head. The need for increased friction between them was growing, to translate the tension to something that could be tangible. Something that could bring them both to the precipice. She ached for him.

Please. Please. Please.

Faster. Everything needed to be faster.

It was a mess. She could feel his arousal against her quivering stomach just as she knew of hers. She was sure he could smell her through her clothes. Her body was not being subtle about her need. For him. His hand slipped through the gap in her kimono made larger by her obi that was hanging on for dear life around her dark, plum-colored corded belt.

Her heart skipped a beat when his warm, calloused hand tailed up her thigh. Her eyes opened as his thumb came dangerously close to the thin lines marring the otherwise smooth skin. She nearly passed out of sheer relief when his hand stopped to come to a rest across her thigh as if he owned it. He found something else to focus his attention on. He was edging the collar of her kimono down further and further, revealing more and more of her skin to him. It was involuntary the way her eyes closed when he dipped his head. She arched her back into his hard chest as he traced the line with his tongue where her kimono met her skin. Easing lower with each pass. Teasing her agonizingly slowly. The build-up was almost unbearable.

I'm going to explode. Faster. Please. Faster.

She was greedy. She wanted more now that she had a taste. She wanted all of him. A deprived sound ripped through her, unable to be contained, as his thumbpad pressed up against the pulsing heat between her legs. The place she wanted him to touch her but she could never bring herself to say. The sensation was too consuming for her to be embarrassed that he could feel her dampness through her underwear. His mouth sucked hard and unforgivingly at the spot right on top of her breast. Just a little to the left and a little lower. He was so close to where she needed him to be.

Please. Please. Please. Ple-

A spark of chakra impacted her heart rate. Bringing it down just enough for her to mute everything. Just a hair. She opened her hazy eyes to look past him, for but a second. A degree of separation was all she needed. A tendril of chakra so thin that even a sensor would have trouble feeling it. Worked its way from her fingers in his hair down his front, right between his legs, cutting off blood flow for just one breath. To clear away the haze of lust. Because that was all it could ever be, never mind the evidence of the contrary. She needed him to focus, to think clearly and with the right head. Sakura threw her head back in an exaggerated manner and let out a breathy moan.

"Nensho."

Minato froze then and there, with his face pressed against her chest. His heart jolted painfully in his chest as his senses sharpened. Sakura pulled his head up with the hand that was still in his hair. She flatted herself against him, leaning forward against his bicep. Her hooked leg around his waist prevented him from moving. He brought a hand to rest on the small of her back and held her firmly against his chest. Covering her. Shielding her. He looked over his shoulder at the man with long black hair gathered in a topknot with plentiful silver streaks.

H-how long? He asked himself.

How did he not notice him? A civilian of all things.

"Caught you," the words left the man's mouth in a deep gravelly voice.

Minato's arms tightened around Sakura out of pure instinct. She giggled mindlessly. Her flushed face gave off the impression that she was very much embarrassed to have been found in such a compromising position.

"Sorry," Sakura said in a sultry voice that had Minato's insides clenching for it was too flirty and too light to be authentic. He could feel her heart stammering against his chest. It spoke to her nerves.

"Please do not stop on account of me," the man crossed his arms over his chest. His dark blue yukata was plain but it had a regal air. It was made of silk that was imported from a foreign land.

Sakura's giggle felt like it was grating on his ears. She pulled off the role of an airhead well. "Master," she batted her eyes at him. Her voice was high pitch and lilted in everything that was nonthreatening. "This," Sakura patted Minato on the chest, her eyes holding a fondness that too was fabricated. She had not looked at him that way in close to a decade. It was how she used to look at him when she thought he was not paying attention to her. Which she had yet to learn was never the case.

He only saw her. From the beginning. Since the beginning. That one random Wednesday that changed his life forever, the one where he spotted a head of soft pink hair and bright, bright, jade eyes.

"Is my cousin, Nensho. Nensho-kun, this is my employer Tetsu Gou-sama," she sighed happily before resting her head against his arm once again. Her arms hung loosely around Minato's shoulders. He was still supporting her leg that was wrapped around his waist and his right hand was against the small of her back - steady and reassuring in its presence. "It's been a while since we've seen each other," she continued to explain in a voice that was nothing like her. She leaned back to look at Minato with the same light smile but never leaned far enough where her kimono fell to reveal too much.

Her small hand caressed the side of his face in manufactured tenderness. He never stopped watching her, not even when she held his chin between her thumb and curled index finger.

"So, so, so long," she spoke to his lips, rubbing her thumb over them, wiping away the traces of her lipstick. If his survival instinct had not engaged, he might have parted them, to lick it - following its path with his tongue.

"We got carried away is all," Sakura tutted. her hand came to rest on his shoulder as she smiled at the man she referred to as 'Master'.

Minato's stomach burned at just how convincing and genuine her actions seemed to be. If he did not know her, he would have been fooled. Her level of ease as she effortlessly lied only came through repetition. Lots and lots of practice. He wondered how many bridges she built out of lies and just how many she had led to their demise as everything came crumbling around them; when there was no solid ground to catch them when they fell.

"I see," Gou - the Master - spoke. His eyes were on Minato. "How long?"

"Ten months," Minato said smoothly without hesitation. His cobalt eyes returned to Sakura's face. She had been holding her breath. He felt her exhale against him. "At your going away party," he said softly.

"Two for one," Sakura's smile turned coy as her eyes glittered seemingly at the memory of a party that just come into existence not even seconds ago. "It was my birthday celebration too," she traced his collarbone with a finger. She peered at him through half-ladden eyes. All a perfectly crafted act.

What if…what if? The voice of his subconscious asked.

"How could I forget?" Minato asked with a smirk. Sakura's safety was paramount to everything. His internal struggle could wait. Wait until he got her out of this mess. "You left me with quite the souvenir for nearly two weeks. I thought of you every time I sat back against a chair or sank into a bath."

Sakura giggled that same teeth-gnashing giggle and pinched his cheek. He was left to interpret if it was in warning or part of the ruse. "You're so bad, Nensho-kun!" Her expression darkened and her voice lowered to reflect that. "It was only fair I left you with a little forget-me-not seeing just how thoughtful and considerate your present to me was." Sakura shivered convincingly. "I still think of that party," she whispered huskily as she bit her lip.

"Well," Gou cleared his throat, roughly pulling both of their attention back to him. "How lucky are you, Nissho-san, to have such a lovely cousin draped all over you."

"Nensho," Minato corrected without blinking. "And I am well aware, Tetsu-sama. That is why I could not stop myself from coming to visit to wish my dear cousin a happy birthday. It's been much too long since I have been in her presence."

Sakura blinked owlishly. "It's my birthday?" She gasped dramatically. It was March 28th. Her mouth hung open. "It's my birthday!" She beamed so brightly it was almost hard to look at her.

Minato laughed. "Head in the clouds as always," his expression softened. "Happy Birthday, Aki-chan." He brushed the hair that was much too dark from the sides of her face. Her flushed face.

Sakura giggled. "I knew there was a reason why you were my favorite." She wrinkled her nose. "But you know how I feel about that nickname, Nensho-kun," she pouted in a very exaggerated manner. "We're not kids anymore." She smacked his arm playfully.

Minato smiled easily, his eyes were unreadable as he held her captive. Only the tightness in his frame under her hands gave any indication of his severe discomfort. It was the mark of honesty under the ruse.

"And you know how I feel about it," he said in a low voice that had all the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She was scared of him at that moment. Scared of just what he was capable of.

"You're," he moved the magenta hair that had fallen out of her clip from the side of her neck with painfully slow strokes. "A drug like no other." He pressed his nose against her neck, burying his face in her hair. "You take all my worries and pains away."

Sakura felt her throat go dry at the very clear signal. He was ready to follow through with his claims and whisk her away from what she knew awaited her. He was offering her a choice: the mission or home. With the promise that they would face the consequences of whatever came together. She could feel Gou's eyes boring holes in the side of her head. A lobotomy conducted by the precision and steadiness of his ire.

Minato was leaving it all in her hands.

Sakura released her lower lip from her top teeth. There was a strain in her eyes despite the lightness in her tone. "Nensho-kun," Sakura lowered her leg back down to the ground. But she could not peel back because of the pressure he was applying to keep her tethered to him. "You're too much." She shut the door firmly. She ran her fingers down the length of his arm, all while humming in contentment.

"Ten months," Gou's dark eyes narrowed.

"Hm?" Sakura tore her eyes from Minato's to regard the master of the house.

"He said your going away party was ten months ago and yet you had two birthdays in that span?"

"Oh, that," she sighed. "Since my birthday was not too long before I had to leave, I celebrated it a little later last year, and it took around twelve days to get to Iwa from Yume. Nensho-kun is just rounding up."

"Math was never really my strong suit," Minato admitted in a manner that was tinged with insecurity.

"So really," Sakura tapped him on the chest, "he's just a pretty face. Not a single thought in his head." She tapped his nose in reprimand reminding him of his grave mistake of coming here in the first place. "But that's okay. He more than makes up for the lack of brain in the looks department." She giggled at the offense that crept up on Minato's face.

"Amongst other things," Minato grinned easily. "I think I deserve a little more credit than that."

"True, true," Sakura admitted without needing much - or any - convincing.

This time when Gou cleared his throat, Sakura blinked sheepishly. "How rude of me," she smiled prettily at the Daimyo's right hand. "Would you like to join us?" She asked with a posterious level of nonchalance, as if she just invited him for tea. Everything about her was light and unaware of the dark edges of anger that just started to trickle into the room. She winked at Minato. "You'd be in excellent hands."

"I don't mind sharing," he eyed the man from head to toe almost dismissively before turning back to Sakura. "For the right occasion," he matched her casualness with ease.

"It is my actual birthday." Sakura giggled and battered her eyelashes at him.

"Perhaps another time." The voice from the body in the doorway said. There was something in his eyes that did not match with the rest of his openness. Minato felt Sakura's stomach spasm. He almost pulled her closer without thinking.

"Akira," the man barked out her name. It had Sakura pulling away from him. She straightened out the folds of her clothes and secured her belt and obi back in place. "I need you."

"Oh yes! Your physical therapy," she explained hurriedly as she gathered her hair and twisted it, securing it with the red clip, revealing the bright red marks on her neck. She had all but taken three steps toward where the man was when his voice had her coming to a halt.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to your cousin?" Gou asked with a raised brow.

Sakura chuckled but Minato could hear the untones of unease. She was not expecting that. She was caught off guard no matter how convincingly she downplayed it. "Of course," she brought her hands to her cheeks. "I'm all over the place right now," she fanned herself with her hand. She flittered back to him, pushed up onto her toes, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Nensho-kun," she smiled with her lips only. Her eyes were furious, hidden away from Gou's by Minato's frame. "Thank you for coming to visit me on my birthday. Safe travels. Tell Okaasan that I'm being well taken care of here and not to worry."

"Aki-chan," Minato grabbed her wrist before she was completely out of reach and pulled. He pressed his lips against hers, fully and firmly. The kiss was slow, tender. She did not even have the presence of mind to react to the kiss, she was so caught off guard, frazzled. Minato pulled back. He swiped his thumb along her bottom lip, wiping away the traces of the smudged wine hue.

One last chance. He had to give her one last chance to reconsider while making the farewell believable. Minato covered the bases for either possibility.

"A little taste of home," he murmured just loud enough to ensure Gou did not misinterpret.

This bastard is going to get you killed.

Sakura walked back to Gou, stunned.

"I'm sorry for cutting the reunion short, Nissho-san," Gou wrapped his arm around Sakura's waist, his palm pressed against her navel.

"It's my fault for not being more upfront," Minato shook his head slightly. He never allowed Sakura to escape his line of sight. "Aki-chan loves surprises." Minato's half-smile did not warm his cold eyes.

"That she does," Gou pushed down even more on her stomach to the point it was painful to breathe too deeply. "Do visit again, Nissho-san," Gou nodded his head curtly in dismissal. Sakura let out a surprised sound as his hand moved from her stomach to her rear. She giggled and brought her hand to rest on top of Gou's. Minato tried not to be bothered by the fact just how unbothered Sakura was at the contact.

Neither of them looked back at the blond they left behind, Gou still led her with a hand on her ass. Minato uncurled his fist, the pain associated with the formation of four small crescent moons in his palm was barely registered by him.

xXx

Sakura breathed shallowly, her back against the bed frame. She blinked slowly. Gou had left the room after he got what he wanted. He was so worked up, seeing her with Minato - like she knew he would be - her punishment did not last long. He reminded her that he would not be disrespected in his own home. He called her a dirty whore for his parting remarks. She brought her fingers to her busted lip. The bleeding was not as bad now. It would hurt to speak or eat for a week or so. She had to live with it. She needed to strip the bed. He would lose his mind if he saw blood when he returned to his chambers to retire for the evening. She walked gingerly to the full-length mirror, pulling her kimono with her.

Her eyes moved from bruise, bite to scratch mark. Her hair was a mess. She began to heal herself slowly, with limited chakra in her need to be discrete. She left just enough discomfort that it would impact her walk. The man was a sadist even if he hid it well. Seeing her in pain would go a long way to earning his forgiveness. A lord with a God-Complex. The only way to keep her cover intact was to insult him in a way that was unforgivable - by making Gou so angry that he did not ask any follow-up questions about her cousin and his visit, just as she had accounted for - that too in his own house.

She needed to wash her face. She needed to shower. Sakura's finger traced the bite mark right at the top of her breast. Her eyes narrowed. It was left by him. The reason why she was even in this situation.

Minato did not seem to see or comprehend that while he never let her fall, - he always caught her before she could - he was the reason she initially stumbled and ultimately lost balance in the first place. Always. It was always him. Right or wrong. Fair or unfair.

He was her weakness. He was her undoing. And she could never quite bring herself to stay angry at him for it. She never could stay angry at him for more than a few hours. She did not know how to hold a grudge against him. She forgave him without him even asking for an apology. Each and every time.

It was a pattern for her. Problematic and pathetic.

Inner's silence was more condemning than any words. Sakura pulled on her kimono, cut from satin, stitched together with pain, donned with self-loathing, and dyed in her regret. She pulled the dark blue high thread count sheets from the bed and balled them up. Before she left his room, she pocketed a couple of scraps of paper - writing samples - from the trashcan at the foot of his small desk - trash that had yet to be burned - and an official scroll with the emblem of Tsuchi. She slid closed the shoji doors behind her, ignoring the looks the guards gave her.

She kept her head high. A paper fan - one she kept in her obi - bright yellow moved lazily covering the dully throbbing lip. She was unshaken. She was stable. She was fine. She was more than content to pretend.

She kept it together until she returned back to the guest home she was provided. She kept it together all the way until she saw a small wooden box on the dining table. Waiting for her. Her thoughts were quiet as a perplexed look lined her face. She could feel the glimmers of chakra, finer than sand so easy to overlook. She recognized it immediately just like he knew she would. Sakura stood in the doorway, with her back pressed against the wooden shoji door, frozen in place by her indecision. But eventually, curiosity won out. She moved timidly, gingerly so that not even the woodboards creaked. She sat back on her heels on the pink cushion. Her fingers shook as she reached for the box. She halted midway.

It's just a box.

Inner had reached the end of her patience. She had far from copious amounts, to begin with, and was before the long day they both had. Sakura's hand started to move again. She lifted the box. Her hand rested against the table, the other still wrapped around the bottom of it. The object revealed to her was simple. It was one she recognized. It was one that usually brought her some happiness - the temporary kind that distracted the mind from the constant state of sadness - but now, it only brought forth twisting her stomach.

A little taste of home.

She did not move for the longest time. The item caused her to completely cease conscious, controlled functioning. She blinked slowly as her brain worked sluggishly to what all this meant. It was after no less than thirty minutes that she decided this was one puzzle that she could not spare any more effort to. Sakura rose, picking up the box in her hand as she did so. She deposited it in the trash - anko dumplings from Nobara's which happened to be her favorite stall - on the way to the bath.

The silent tears stopped falling, not to her notice.

---

She focused on her breathing, coordinating it with each time her slippers came into contact with the polished dark brown floorboards. She could practically see her reflection; made possible by the efforts of a small team of staff - ten - on their hands and knees buffing the wood with plush white towels. From dawn to dusk, they only had one job. To keep the floors glistening.

The tray made of oak in her hands was covered by a purple furoshiki with gold patterns. Her kimono was of sage with a dark green obi and soft pink flowers. The Sakura tree had bloomed. The petals were now all over the ground like confetti. She figured maybe the sakura on her kimono would invoke some kind of fondness.

Maybe he'll even call you his little Orchid again.

Sakura's face - painted with soft colors all except her bold dark-cherry lip, it covered the last traces of the injury - did not react to Inner's snarky, sarcastic comment. She came to a stop in front of two shoji doors. Dark in color and tall in stature. At least fifteen feet in length. The guards opened the panels for her.

She dipped her head in thanks before stepping inside. She lowered, increasing the severity of the dip. She walked without looking up. Her feet knew exactly how many steps to take. She knew of every obstacle in her path. He did not acknowledge her. The dark wood tones of the study mimicked the rest of the house's interior design taste: regal, dark, academic, and dreary.

Brown, white, yellow, and tan. That was the color scheme. She was not fazed by his silence. She crossed the room toward the large desk to the left. The empty area that was lined with mats - where his committee gave him advice, his advisors - sat in front of the desk. Three large bookshelves from floor to ceiling were behind the desk. When he was in a particularly pleased mood with her, he let her pick any reading material she wanted. But that was before her cousin's visit. Back when Gou was almost human toward her, on occasion.

The butterfly clip - a gift from the Daimyo's right hand - made sounds almost similar to windchimes as she set the covered tray at the corner of his desk. It held up her hair in an easy twist. He liked having easy access to her neck. She was not kidding when she told Minato that. She was careful to not cover any of the documents that lined the surface.

"Good afternoon, Master," she said in a sing-song. The voice he used to describe as a gale of spring air entered hostile ears. Sakura tutted softly. She flittered behind his wooden chair and brought her hands to his shoulders. She began to work the knots dutifully. Trying anything to get back in his good graces. "Have you been outside today? Perhaps we can take a walk? The weather is lovely. There is a bit of a breeze. I can have your haori ironed and ready to go within ten minutes."

Gou grunted before pinching the bridge of his nose. He blinked a couple of times trying to lessen the strain on his eyes. The print in front of him was very small.

"Where are your glasses, Master?" She asked him with a frown. She leaned forward slightly to read over his shoulder all the while her hands never stopped moving. "I can go fetch them for you. Do you remember where you had them last?"

"I don't need them," he snapped in irritation.

You're well over forty, jack-ass. You need them.

"Okay," her eyes scanned onto the next piece of information. A partially visible map.

Bingo.

"You're so tense," she mused somewhere between alarmed and exasperated. "You've been pouring over everything for so long."

A sound of contentment left his lips when she found a particularly stubborn knot. She dipped her head down, placing a kiss on his temple, hands still moving. She was closer to the map now.

"Maybe we can forgo the walk and occupy our time some other way?" She asked coyly. Voice lilted with the perfect amount of seduction, leaving very little to be misinterpreted.

The man lowered the scroll in his hand, pushing the top layer away from the map. She saw a base she recognized. Close to Grass. Near the border.

"It's been a while since I drew a bath for you," she continued on, searching as much as she could see. She committed the names to memory. "Surely it will help with the tightness. Staying loose is so important in-"

"In this age?" He asked her dryly with a scowl, forcing her to look at him. "Is that what you were going to say, woman?!"

"No! Of course not!" She made herself small, and pitiful in the face of his latest insecurity. His age. "I was going to say, in this state of recovery!" She offered quickly and with credibility. He had injured himself in a hunting accident. He fell off his horse many months ago - eight to be exact. A horse that was spooked by an illusion only it could see. An opportunity that she made for herself. For Akira. A young, gifted, highly recommended (money could buy so much as could completely fabricated genjutsu memories), and attractive civilian healer.

"Things are really stressful with the war and the Daimyo relies on you so much, but you mustn't let that affect your recovery plan. You take care of everyone in this house. Let me ease what burdens I can," she continued to explain in a voice tinged with guilt.

"Tsk," he kissed his teeth. "Draw me a bath! I am not invalid!"

"Of course not, Master," she bowed lowly at the hip, her magenta hair tumbling down her shoulders, eyes on the table once more. "I did not mean to-"

"Leave," he shooed her off. "I need to focus. I don't have time to waste on the likes of you right now."

Sakura swallowed thickly. "Of course," she kept her head low. "Please be sure to drink-"

"I'll drink it!" He snapped, voice bouncing off the walls. "Now, out!"

She let out a sound of meekness. She left the room without showing her back or her eyes to him. Her mind was already working to try to place the two-dimensional representation on the map to a real location. It was a much more productive use of time than cursing a blond-haired, blue-eyed face. One that she would very much like to punch.

xXx

"I'll be just a minute," she assured the guard in the doorway. The doors of the study closed behind her. The guards were not trained shinobi by any means because there was a level of inherent distrust between the civilians and the shinobi, the non-chakra inclined, and those who manipulated it. Where powerful civilians could avoid employing or interacting with shinobi they did.

We're good enough to fight in your wars but not to be trusted in your homes, in your lives.

She could not risk using chakra as it may lead to being spotted by the guard. She would not put it past the Tsuchikage to have some plants in the Daimyo's house and maybe even in the Daimyo's most trusted advisor's house. Shinobi were not a very trusting bunch. The sensitive areas like the study and other places where meetings took place might be lined with chakra detectors of some kind. She did not know. In order to detect chakra and trace it, she would have to use it. She would have to make herself traceable. The only way to be completely undetectable was to not use it all, to suppress it completely. To levels that not even the best sensors could detect. To that of an infant, where the line between civilian and shinobi was blurred. She did not know if Tsuchi had sensors on par with Karin so she could not risk it. She could not risk using her chakra nearly, around, or in the study.

The stakes were simply too grave for her to make a miscalculation. She turned on the lights. Her eyes immediately found the desk. It was still lined with papers. She was grateful for his lack of tidiness. He could not be bothered to put things away and while she usually cursed him - because she had no interest in picking up after another adult - today, it was a Kami-send.

She moved to where the chair was. Sakura pushed it out of the way. She scanned the scrolls and documents quickly. Most of them were housekeeping in nature. The amount of legitimate trade coming and going. For food, goods, and medicine. She read and filed away the information for a later date. She needed to see the map. That was her priority.

Shinobi might fight in the wars but it was the civilian side - the Daimyo - that held the real power. If the Daimyo was unhappy the Kage of the land had a real big problem. Because money and power were why this was all happening. And the Daimyo had both while the Kage only had one. It was simple math that even teenage Naruto could understand. Two was more than one.

Where is it?

She shuffled the papers trying to find the map.

Maybe he took it with him.

That caused her panic to grow. Her increased sense of urgency was reflected in her movements. That did not spell anything good for her.

We searched his chambers already. His bathroom too.

She had been hoping she would find it here. It was starting to feel like a last resort.

You got the location memorized.

What good will that do? I don't have a date, a time, or the number of shinobi. I don't even know if they are targeting a shipment or something else. They could be setting up a base there. Fortifying it. A stronghold to retreat back to after they storm Hi's border. It could mean everything.

She sifted the papers. They rustled as her eyes scanned frantically.

Why was I so careless with my tongue? I shouldn't have even said anything that could be twisted into a dig at his virility. Not since he saw Minato….

The old man was reaching. What you said wasn't that overt. He's just looking to hurt his own feelings. You need to calm down.

Sakura let out a sigh. There was only so much she could do. There was the movement of clothing. Leather stretched. Boots shuffled their weight. She began to move the papers back into place. Exactly how her photographic mind remembered seeing them.

The doors opened. Sakura shot up from under the desk. She hissed, rubbing the top of her head with a pout.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," she chuckled sheepishly. "I have a thick skull." She tapped the side of it to demonstrate.

"Did you find it?" The guard asked her with a stony face, eager to move this all along.

Not even close.

"Found it!" Akira smiled brightly, holding the red butterfly clip in her hands. "It was under the desk, wedged in one of the corners."

"I can see that," the guard said dryly. He regarded her expectantly.

"Oh!" She giggled. "Silly me," Akira tucked her clip in her hair. She rose to her feet and dusted off her hands. "Sorry for the wait and thank you for letting me inside at this hour, Murakami-san," she smiled prettily at the man. "You're a lifesaver, Master would have been so upset with me not seeing his favorite clip in my hair," she gushed in a tone that was higher than her usual speaking volume all the while crossing the room toward him.

The man with brown hair and brown mustache stammered. His cheeks turned pink at the attention of her gaze. "N-no problem, Akira-san."

She smiled like an airhead as he closed the door behind them. Her stomach clenched into a tight knot.

---

"Mori-obaasan," Akira tutted through her painted lips. Today they were a mauve pink. More subtle and subdued than the purple hues the master was so fond of. Akira eyes the ashy, wrinkly arm with the three-inch long burn. "You need to be more careful," she admonished gently out of concern.

"Ah," the woman waved her hand in a singular downward motion. Dismissive. "You'll see when you get to be as old as me. It is next to impossible to keep track of every little thing." The woman sighed as she leaned back on her short four-legged wooden stool. "You're right. I should have been more careful. Years ago. It's my fault. I should have watched what my husband was doing with our money. That way I wouldn't have to be in this situation today."

Akira made a sympathetic sound. She scooped up the salve she had put together. Hiro and she had gone out earlier in the week just to keep some on hand for emergencies like this. Tsuchi had a surprising amount of herbs for such an arid climate and rocky soil.

"This will help with the pain and the healing," Akira assured her. With gentle but steady fingers she began to apply the balm on the second-degree burn. The old woman hissed in pain to which Akira apologized each and every time, grimacing. "We got lucky this time. I'll talk to Rinka-chan. She needs to be more careful about leaving hot things on the counter. She can remember that at least."

"You can but it will fall on deaf ears," Rio - the old obaasan with more gaps than teeth in her mouth - said while shaking her head, her lips puckered. "That girl is in her head too much. Always with the daydreams of meeting her prince or lord who will sweep her off her feet and away from this life she was born into."

Akira frowned. She scooted closer in her squatted position to get a better view of the injury. They were in the servant kitchen. The wooden shutters were drawn because Rio's thin skin burned easily in the sun and it was peak heat outside.

"There's nothing wrong with daydreaming. It just shouldn't come at anyone's expense."

Unless your name is Sakura.

"Akira, Dear," Rio sighed in defeat. "I am a sack of skin and bone. How long will you keep trying to patch me up? I am so old that I will probably die before this thing heals."

"Mori-obaasan," Akira's tone was sharp in her displeasure. "You have plenty of life ahead of you. You'll be fine in no time."

The woman did not look convinced. "You know my grandson is out fighting in the war against Kumo. I am so scared for him. He was so proud to be called to the front lines. I pray with every breath that if it comes down to it, my life for his. That is why I am fighting so hard to stick around. For this damn war to be over!" There were tears in the woman's eyes. Her skin folded so much that it would never smooth out. "I lived a whole life. He's only ten. He's a boy." Her bottom lip trembled. "What was wrong with running his parents' shop when he grew older? What was wrong with being just a civilian?"

Akira swallowed down the lump in her throat. She did not answer the question that was not for her. She could not. She could not even answer a similar question of her own for herself. Instead, she bandaged the woman's arm. "Keep it dry. You'll be as good as new in a few days. You'll see," she squeezed the woman's fingers, holding her hand in both of hers.

"Your hands are so rough," Rio noted, not for the first time. "Strange for a lady."

Akira snorted. "I am far from a lady."

"Don't let Hiro-kun hear you say that. You'll break his heart, hime." Rio winked at her with cataract-impacted eyes. Eyes that Akira could heal with one touch - cutting away at the impacted lenses - and replaced with an artificial lens made from the hospital's lab if she was back in Hi and her name was Sakura and her hair was pink instead of magenta.

"I won't," she promised with a smile. Both women turned to the commotion at the door.

"What now?" Rio asked with a huff.

"Akira!" An exuberant voice tore open the door. A head with blue hair cut in an asymmetrical bob and excitement-filled red eyes looked at her. She ran up to the woman who had gotten up on her feet. She took Akira's hand into her own and kissed it loudly.

"Your hands are magic!" Her eyes sparkled.

"Have you gotten into the booze again?" Rio scowled with judgment. "Why can't you be more Akira? The girl doesn't touch the stuff."

If only you knew half of it, Obaasan.

She was ten months sober. The statement was more true than less. Only drinking with Gou wanted her to. And never more than half a cup. She was on duty twenty-four-seven. Her guard, her mind could not be compromised.

"Baachan!" Umi grinned from ear to ear. She started to dance. "Look!" She lifted up her simple brown kimono to reveal a bandaged foot.

Green and black eyes came to the same realization seconds apart.

"It doesn't even hurt anymore!" Umi's voice brimmed with disbelief and relief. "I thought I would lose money because I would have to miss another few days but no! Akira here is magic! It's good as new, better even!"

Chakra, Umi-san. Not magic.

Specifically, chakra that was placed in invisible seals within the bandage. Just enough to expedite the healing of the injury, which would have taken a week, to two days. The balm Sakura made and applied was just a cover. It explained the tingling from the slow release of the chakra from the seals. Seals that disappeared once all the chakra was absorbed by the woman's injury.

Akira looked at the seated woman. The same went for the balm and bandages on her arm. Her burn would heal - with a scar because that could not be explained away - within 48 hours.

This is really good practice.

It was just an added bonus that there were actual stakes associated with it. She missed the little bursts of adrenaline that she got in the field. She was not used to being in one place for so long. The anxiousness started right around the time of her birthday. She was feeling less and less useful as the days went by. Which meant the old insecurity of being useless reared its ugly head once again.

"Oh!" Akira let out a squeak of surprise when Umi grabbed her other hand. She laughed as the woman and she spun in a big circle. "What are we doing?"

"Dancing!" Umi smiled. She flailed her arms, forcing Akira to do the same.

"You should be taking it easy, Umi-san!" Akira protested almost weakly, her heart was not in it. She knew just how complete and thorough the healing was but it was in her favor if Umi remained somewhat discrete about it.

"It's fine!" Umi brushed her off with disregard. "We dance! No worrying about yesterday! And no worrying about tomorrow!" She moved not too differently from someone suffering a seizure. It looked as fun as it did bad. "All we should care about is right now!"

"Okay," Akira said with a shrug. She did not need an excuse to shed some of the darkness even if it was for but a moment. Just a glimmer of light to warm her up again from the cold, numb entity she had become. Just enough for some of the residual heat to reach her battered soul. Just a little. She only needed so little.

"Ah!" Rio waved her hand in dismissal again but it was all for show as she watched the woman with magenta hair ease into it enough that the woman with blue hair let go of her hands. They twirled and laughed. Practically dissolving into a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of it all. Akira's green eyes sparkled with hints of life.

Rio looked up at the rafters. She thanked Kami for the gift that was Akira.

xXx

Her body was heavy with worry. She was no closer to finding the map. It just disappeared from existence. Only the picture burned in her mind spoke to the fact it was ever there. She searched every inch of the complex, as vast as it was. A full seven days and she had not found it.

She would have to rethink her strategy. It was not working fast enough. She was wasting precious time. It was that simple. No excuses, no explanations, so no expectations of leniency in the face of failure. She was here for one reason and one reason alone, and she was not living up to it which meant her presence was meaningless.

Even Gou's concubine was dancing on her ashes. The snarky comments asking if she was feeling alright, being left in the cold. Just as her arrival had done the same for the handful of women. They rubbed salt in her wounds, the ones she cut into herself. She was not too different from them, she supposed. They stayed here and offered themselves up in exchange for stability and status. She had no right to look down her nose at them, even if they did the same to her. They saw things for face value, once Gou healed enough he would no longer need her. Her presence would not be justified. She would be just another mouth to feed. A burden.

A label she could not shake even thousands of kilometers and thousands of days in the past. But it was not a total loss that Gou barely looked at her. She was still here which meant there was no war. It meant that he was okay. Beyond her, no one was none-the-wiser about his little sanctioned field trip across two lands. Silence was a very good thing on that front. If word had gotten out, she would have been pulled. She would have been seen as compromised. Because after all, she was the reason why the man who would be remembered as the beloved Yellow Flash came all this way. She must have called him. She must have compelled him to come to her. The math was simple, Namikaze Minato was more valuable than she. She would get the blame and she would be punished. And it was alright. It was the same math that she did. Minato was inherently more valuable. A spade was a spade. There was no use getting upset.

The air was cool. The moon was full. Her shoulders were hunched. Sakura sighed softly as she pulled open the doors of the guest house. She leaned forward on the wooden frame of the end of the porch. The wind caused the shadows of the leaves to move. If she were a civilian who could only dream and picture simple things, the small garden in front of her was something she would want for herself. Maybe she would remove some of the trees for a planter. A small garden that she tended to. Maybe her husband could help her. She could almost picture the two of them under the warm sun, sitting on their heels on foam mats. With matching hats to protect from UV rays. Shoulder to shoulder as they worked in silence. A comfortable silence. A silence, established, built, and nurtured by years of good habits, healthy communication, and mutual understanding.

She rubbed her arm slowly, easing down the goosebumps in an unfruitful action. Sometimes his shoulder would brush against hers on accident and sometimes it would be very much on purpose, playful. She would laugh as she stared into his blue, blue eyes. She would comment on how his hair was more bright and sunny than the actual sun itself. Her sun, he was her personal sun. The very entity she revolved her life around, built a life around. His eyes would crinkle in delight just before he pushed up the brim of her hat to press his warm lips on her forehead. Her eyes would flutter close and a hum of contentment would settle into the air.

The silence would continue all the way until they pulled the bounty of vegetables from the ground. Stacked neatly in rows on the green platter. Carrots, peas, corn, pumpkin, radishes, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, and the like. He would carry them inside, against his side. She would hold his other hand. Fingers interlaced. Her head, leaning against his arm. Her eyes closed and her mind without a single thought. Safe. She would be content and safe. Her whole world was right there in front of her and next to her.

Before they could arrive at the top step - walking slowly, lingering in the calm, still moments when it was just the two of them - the shoji doors would part. Two pairs of tiny feet would emerge. Their firstborn - a son - with pink hair and blue eyes, and a girl - who came two years after her brother - with hair as yellow as the sun and jade-colored eyes, latching onto them. Six and four. They fought like cats and dogs but they had their good moments too, such as right now. All smiles and giggles. Asking with excitement what was for dinner.

Their father would answer. The kids would look at him with so much adoration that her heart might just burst. His hand would slip from hers to usher the tots inside. They would go, their voices loud and free. Exuberant. Unworried. Not weighed down by the horrors of the world. They were blissfully ignorant from it all in their little bubble. To them, their father - a civilian - was the strongest man alive. He would keep them safe. He would protect them no matter what. He loved them more than life itself.

She believed that with everything she had. She would remain standing on the top step, taking it all in, pinching herself to check that yes, this was real. This was her life. She somehow ended up so lucky. Her hand would press against her navel. A gesture that would be repeated countless times as she expanded in the coming months. Another child because he - her husband - claimed they had more than enough food from their modest garden to feed another mouth and more than enough love in hearts to fit in another life. She could not deny him that happiness because he made her so happy she did not know what to do with herself.

He would reemerge in the doorway wearing a look of curiosity. He would call her name, softly and ask her if something was the matter. Two little faces would poke out from behind his back and at his hip. They adored him. To pieces. She would smile. Shake her head. And tell him everything was just fine. How could it not be? She had him. She had their children. What more could she possibly need? And she would join them. Her daughter would throw herself at her. And Sakura would laugh. And Minato would shake his head, kissing her temple before slinging his arms around her shoulders. A house of love. A life full of happiness. A beautiful thought.

Sakura sighed. Her breath danced in front of her.

Minato-kun, are you eating? Are you sleeping okay? Are you safe? Are you alright?

She asked the moon and the stars because there was no one else who would grant her an audience much less listen to the longing in her heart for the life she could never have and for the children that she would never get to hold in her empty, aching arms. The children that would not come to fruition from their mutual love.

She bargained with the wind to caress his face for her all the way back in Konoha, bestowing her words of protection and well-wishes to his person.

Yet another wishful thought but unlike the first, it brought her more comfort than pain in her moments of sentimentality which she did not allow herself often. She did not know exactly when the switch happened, but she found herself going back to the little cottage with the small vegetable garden and the three smiling faces whenever she pictured a future she could never be a part of, instead of the one she had lived. And that really raised uncomfortable questions that she did not want to have to address.

She wanted to pretend a little bit longer. She still had to revisit her suggestion that they get some chickens to raise. The kids would love them, it would not be all that much more work and they would have fresh eggs. It was a no-brainer. She knew Minato was close to caving officially. He hated saying no to her. He could not deny her any more than she could him.

Sakura closed her eyes and smiled softly. Inner would let her know when she needed to close herself off again. Inner always let her know.

---

"Akira-hime!" His voice was sing-song through the thin doors.

Sakura wore that smile as she opened the door for him. "Hiro-kun," she chuckled at the boy's delight, "you seem to be in a good mood."

"We got them, Akira-hime!" His eyes glistened with a sense of triumph that had her momentarily pausing. "Tsuchi is going to be the strongest of the nations."

"Got who, Hiro-kun?" She did not correct her frown.

"The Hi bastards!" He held out his arms and stretched up to his toes in a show of his nearly uncontainable joy at the development.

The shipment!

"We've been trying for so long but now we finally did it! We didn't let them have it. That will show them to mess with us. Iwa is amazing-"

"Hiro-kun," she said his name sharply. The smile fell off his face immediately. "Why are you here?" She pointed at the parchment in his hand. "Is that for me?"

"Oh," his brown brows furrowed. She had never taken such a tone with him before. "Um…yeah," he held out the rolled-up paper. "It's a letter from your okaasan."

"Thank you, Hiro-kun. My obaasan isn't doing well and I've been waiting for an update." Her expression became less demanding as she forced temperance to overcome her. "Sorry for my shortness."

"No, Hime!" He shook his head emphatically. "Read the letter really fast. I hope your obaasan is feeling better."

"Thank you, Hiro-kun," she grabbed the paper from his hand, spared him a small smile that was as artificial as they came, and closed the door. Sakura waited for his feet to carry him further and further away. She drowned out the sound of him telling anyone who would listen just how amazing Iwa was and that the Hi bastards were probably crying right about now with their fists to their eyes.

Her eyes moved quickly.

Akira,

All the crops that were planted have yet to sprout. It appears your efforts have gone in vain to develop a new fertilizer that would lead to a total yield.

Obaasan is not well. Perhaps by the time you receive this letter, she will have already passed. The break in such late stages of her age was too much for her to overcome. Come home. But not before you give your employer your regards and thanks.

Before I forget, I salted the garden beds. The pests in number were too great.

Be well dear. Be careful in your journey home.

Okaasan

Her stomach sank. Ten months and two weeks of her life just undone by four paragraphs. She had failed to prevent a loss of commodity that was considered 'acceptable,' by the Hi Daimyo. And that meant war. Shinobi might be the ones fighting in it but it was the Daimyos that waged it for they held the true power: money. And with Iwa dealing a financial blow to the Land of Fire all their fates were sealed.

The Third Great War had already started and she did not know who she was more outraged at, Minato, Tsuchi, or herself.

She reached for the butterfly clip in her hair. She crushed it into metal dust in her balled fist.

---

Forty-seven, that was the total number of casualties from the caravan that was attacked by Iwa soldiers by the border where Fire touched Grass. Right in the location she had given but without specifics no one could corroborate the vague claim. No one could stop it from happening. All because she had been unable to get information back to Fire quickly enough about where the soldiers were placed because Gou was icing her out still at the time it happened. She had not worked back in his graces fast enough. His guards had been watching her like a hawk to ensure she did not ask, request, or expect additional family members to show up at the Lord's Estate without notice.

Forty-seven civilians died because she failed to uphold her responsibility. Tsuchi was not dumb neither was Gou. it had been an intricate game of cat and mouse where she, the Daimyo, and the Hokage worked together to deem what shipment or caravan could be sacrificed under 'acceptable loss' that would still allow Iwa enough of a taste for them to not be suspicious that they were playing with a tipped hand. Because if she circumvented every attack, she would have been found in weeks, maybe even days. They had a system down. They were very efficient. The Hokage was shrewd and smart but most importantly, he lived more life than her. He had perspective. And that had proved to be invaluable. She did not have to make additional decisions when she was already making one every second of the day all in an effort to not be caught. The thought was that eventually Tsuchi would grow bored - or be stretched too thin with their conflict in Kumo and Taki to continue for much longer with trying to involve Konoha. She had a feeling they were close. Gou was growing less and less pleased with the small victories. The tradeoff between the number of soldiers and the loot was no longer adding up. They had been nearly there. But in the end, it was all for naught. Because war did break out and they only had a handful of strategies.

And forty-seven civilian lives were now on her head.

"Sakura-chan?" The Hokage's smoke-riddled voice called out to her, breaking her from her reverie.

"I don't know, Hokage-sama," she wished she had a better answer. But he could not know the truth as to why Gou seemingly suddenly restricted her freedom after she had worked so hard to gain it. He had never bothered to sensor his mouth around her either. That was how much he had trusted her.

Ten months of hard work undone by just as many minutes.

"Your incompetence is baffling," Danzo's tone struck her like a whip, leaving her raw and stinging.

She lowered her head of hair that was not magenta nor her usual pink - it needed several more weeks before the dye completely faded - in front of two men she held no respect for, for two vastly different reasons. One was weak and the other was corrupt. She did not trust either of them. Hiruzen would hang her out to dry if she presented him with the truth and Danzo would suck the marrow from her carcass eviscerated by the Council with a smile. She missed her mask but this was not a Root debrief.

"Let's aim to keep this conversation productive," Hiruzen smoothed his brows with a tired hand. "Gou has been disposed of?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama," she cleared her throat before speaking, taking solace in the fact that her voice did not reflect what was the current state of her mind. "The tea that I was administering as part of his physical therapy was making his heart reliant on it. It was weakening his walls slowly, gradually, and when he missed his doses from the time I left. He had a heart attack. It took place a day before I crossed back the border." She had stayed behind in Yume at the undercover house she was staying at to maintain the legitimacy of her fake identity. Akira received a letter from Umi letting her know that the Master was no more. He died exactly eleven days after she left her post in Iwa.

"Good," Hiruzen sighed, "one less thing to worry about." He appeared to hold back because the Hokage closed his mouth and waved his hand in a clear dismissal.

Sakura pressed her curled first against her heart and bowed. She had just turned around slowly when Danzo's voice made her skin crawl.

"Do not expect your failure to be rewarded with missions anytime soon."

"Of course, Shimura-sama." She walked through the door that led to the stairwell of the Hokage Tower trying not to think about what was awaiting her back at Root quarters.

---

A/N:

How was that?

I might be delayed in getting out the next chapter by a few days past the usual 'once-a-week update cadence'. Sorry in advance for that. But something to look forward to next time is more character interactions. Minato's little students. And of course, Sakura doing her best.

Please review. Thank you!