Tsunade growled, shoving the paperwork off her desk with a sweep of her arm.
She was tired.
She was tired, and angry, and she wanted—
Well, lots of things.
Booze, mostly.
A few hours in the casino too.
At the very least, some answers.
Birth rates were definitively lower in every single census Konoha had access too.
They weren't that much lower, though, were possibly explainable by all the normal bits and bobs that controlled population growth—
Except that, by all accounts, fertility issues were up.
These were harder to measure.
Most people just went to local healers, priests, whatever when they had trouble having kids. They didn't go to the Hospital, and—to be fair—the Hospital didn't even have any fertility treatments to help. Still, that meant almost no data in Konoha. Almost no data in Fire. And absolutely no data from anywhere else, because 'how many people want children but are having trouble having them' never quite made it on the 'important information' list.
Which was…
Fine.
Understandable.
Tsunade was smart.
She could work with what information they did have.
And anyway, Tsunade knew most of the foods thought to increase fertility, and according to the Commerce Department the demand for those had definitely gone up.
So, Tsunade was pretty sure: something… environmental, probably… was keeping pregnancy rates down.
Which was…
Something.
The identification of an issue.
But the next step, obviously, would be to figure out the cause, and that—
Tsunade glared at the papers on the floor, all the nonsense of possible causes which never went anywhere no matter how many hours she spent on them.
Then she glared at the pile on the other side of her desk.
That should have been easier too.
Kushina was home, now, was well-versed in the seals on her stomach, and Tsunade was a genius besides.
Between the two of them—Minato was too busy, now, was doing a lot of things that made people talk as they walked past her office door—and the occasional help of the few others in the know, she should've been able to make some kind of progress.
And, again, she had.
She'd, once more, identified the issue(s).
The several seals that would not react well at all to pregnancy, to the many changes the body then faced.
The very real problem of how to keep the fetus safe from the wild chakra coursing through its mother's body.
The general infertility issue affecting everyone.
They'd figured out the problem.
The cause wasn't in question (at least, for those issues unique to Kushina.)
So, then, the solution.
It had been so long since she'd started this project, and still, still, everything they considered seemed doomed to failure.
She needed a drink.
No. She didn't. Shizune would be coming over in two hours, to have dinner with her, and Tsunade needed to go home and actually cook the dinner.
Her therapist said it was good to have hobbies.
And Shizune would graduate soon, was nine already, and then Tsunade might only see her once a week, or month, or worse, instead of three times a week.
The papers could stay on the floor.
.
The caravan—and given the number of people being moved, wagons were absolutely necessary—was ready only an hour after dawn.
Most of Ino-Shika-Cho were gathered outside Konoha's front gates, already missing the families and friends surrounding or being loaded onto the line of wagons, and plenty more civilians besides—while it was predominantly an Ino-Shika-Cho move (really, predominantly a Yamanaka move, given that their Clan Leader was the one who would spend three years overseas) the opportunity for a cheaper move by travelling with them had enticed many others to take the plunge too.
It might have been just on the edge of the last days of winter (not, historically, the best time to travel, given the risk for late storms) but Inoichi wanted to get started on his Academy as soon as possible, so a late February voyage it was.
Kohana was crying.
A lot.
Sakura wasn't doing much better.
"I'll miss you, and I'll write to you, and when they get the Hokage's new radio frequencies set up, I'll send you messages through that too."
Sakura grinned, misty-eyed, back. "Sounds like a plan. I'll fast track the frequencies." This wasn't exactly true—when she'd brought the idea to Minato he'd already told her to make it priority one, so there wasn't much to fast track—but the intent was there.
They hugged again.
Then Sakura went to Himari, and Ren grabbed Kohana and began sobbing over how she wasn't a toddler anymore.
"I'll miss you so much, Himari."
"I can't believe I'm the one leaving!"
And so the pattern continued, and continued, and continued, until a whistle blew and the jostling began and then the horses were plunging forward, a few short, hard steps until the momentum took them and the caravan was away.
"I want to ride a horse., Ibiki said, watching one of his Yamanaka Cousins—Haruma—as he jolted unsteadily on top of the horse he'd been sat on. "Only like the samurai messengers in the Capital, though. Really, really fast, and jumping over anything in the way."
Sakura snorted. She'd practiced riding horses exactly like that as a genin, and it had not been a pleasant experience.
(To be fair, she'd had a lot of trouble getting into the rhythm of it. Shin had managed, and seemed to manage with much less discomfort.)
"Maybe when you're a genin," She said instead. "Horses are… large."
"Yeah." Said Ibiki. "That's the cool part."
.
Sakura glared at the practice dummy in front of her, her whip dangling uselessly at her side. Her aim was still… off. Not consistently in the same direction, which was frustrating—it wasn't a question of accuracy, but precision, and it might very well be that her improvised weapon would need to be modified before she could make any more progress.
Which would take time.
It was only March, of course, but—
Half a year wasn't nearly long enough to prepare.
It was rare—the human capital was really too valuable at that point to allow any avoidable mistakes to occur—but people did die in their Jounin exam.
She cracked her neck, stretching out her chakra in a routine and cursory scan, preparing for another round of testing (might as well get some more data before the daylight was gone) when—
"Kakashi?"
"You can still sense me?"
"The chakra is very… distinctive." Sakura said, turning to look at the—what, nine?—year old boy who stood at the edge of the clearing.
She hadn't seen him a minute ago. Jutsu, then.
"I know." Kakashi said. "I've been trying to… fix that. Is that a whip?"
"A modified one, yeah."
"Inefficient weapon."
"It conducts electricity. And, with a few modifications, maybe chakra too." Weapons had never been her area of expertise, but if she had to remake her whip anyway…
Kakashi grinned under his mask, moved closer to get a better look. "You're preparing for the Jounin Exams, right?"
"That's right." Sakura said. She decided not to mention hearing about how he'd been signed up to take the Special Jounin Exams around the same time too, until his Sensei had changed the rules.
Kakashi didn't seem eager to bring it up either.
"Want to spar?"
Sakura considered.
Kakashi was definitely well above her in combat potential.
He was also nine, and the jinchuuriki, and a chuunin, and a genius, and…
"Yeah, why not?"
"Alright. Any restrictions?"
"No chakra to start with—I have nothing to go up against what you have."
Kakashi shrugged easily. "Not allowed to use any in the village yet anyway."
Which, given that he hadn't mentioned that, meant he thought he could take her on without it.
Sakura might've been less combat-ready than him, but she still had more than a few tricks up her sleeves.
"Toss a kunai, start when it hits?" Sakura checked.
Kakashi nodded.
She tossed the knife.
Kakashi immediately swept a pair of goggles over his eyes—reflective. Nice.
Sakura's hands went to her sealed pockets.
The knife slammed into the ground.
Kakashi was whip-fast, darting close, close, close, where he thought (understandably) that he had the advantage.
And then the entire training area was covered in a thick, dense fog.
Sakura slid an air filter over her mouth, leaping high overhead as she assessed what to do next and watched Kakashi with her chakra sense.
He'd pulled up one of his summons—smart, except that the seal that released the fog had been significantly designed to mess with all the senses but chakra, including smell.
The dog wouldn't be much help.
Sakura's whip crackled, an arc of lightning already on it, and Kakashi leapt away, throwing shuriken as he did.
He was, very very clearly, on the backfoot.
Sakura grinned.
That was the problem with a lot of frontliners, and in particular those with chakra to spare.
They got so used to using ninjutsu to address every issue, so used to using their brains on selecting which jutsu, selecting which distance, that when you took their most powerful tool away—
And Kakashi was nine.
No way was he not obsessed with ninjutsu, to the point of half-ignoring anything else.
A flare of chakra—ah, he had his own seals—and Sakura was on the move again.
She tossed shuriken as she moved, intentionally throwing them irregularly, and tried to get an idea what Kakashi was doing—whatever it was, it was taking time.
And then the boy released another flash of chakra, and Sakura rocked back, scrambling to keep up, keep alert.
Ah.
An explosion, to clear the fog.
Smart.
Sakura released another fog seal.
Kakashi cursed.
"Not down yet!" The boy shouted, and then took off, and Sakura made a note to add sprints to her daily training routine.
And then Kakashi was headed straight toward her, and Sakura had the sinking feeling that he'd figured out she wasn't willing to hurt him.
.
Sakura came home the color of ube, but Kakashi had agreed to train with her once every other week.
There was no family dinner tonight—Fujio had work, Juro a date, and Ibiki some sort of project with Kurenai—so Sakura just heated up some of the stew Kamui had dropped off at the beginning of the week, flipping open a journal to begin sketching out her new weapon as she ate.
She'd just finished the list of materials when there was a knock on the door.
And then another.
Sakura stood, scanning as she did, and—
"You're home! You're both home!" Sakura said, flinging herself at the two figures on the front stoop.
Akina and Arato grinned.
Moments later the three of them were settled around the table, digging into Kamui's stew as they waited for the rest of the family to be informed of their arrival.
Sakura moved from one to the other, taking in their countenances with rather a sense of…
Surrealness, really.
She hadn't seen either of them in so long, hadn't really spent time with either of them since the Second Great War, and now—
Akina's skin was patches of tanned and burnt skin. Her hands were more callouses than normal skin, and her hair was almost white, it was so sun-bleached.
Her clothes were worn, Western, male, and utilitarian, and she had some sort of tooth necklace now that she played with absent-mindedly.
She was grinning, happy and healthy and home, and she laughed at Sakura's expression. "I know. I can hardly believe it myself. You know I'm twenty-seven now? Twenty-seven! Did the math a few days ago."
Arato, his skin incredibly pale and his Western clothing of ridiculously fine quality, leaned forward, pushing his ponytail back over his shoulder as he did.
"You forgot how old we were?! What were you up to?"
"You didn't talk?" Sakura jumped in.
Akina shrugged. "Only met up… what, four, five hours ago? Then we just decided to get home as quick as possible. And as for what I've been doing, I've been hard at work, thank you very much."
"Can you say where?"
"Yeah, yeah—no big secret, not now that I've finished my term there. I was in the Land of Dragons."
"Oh, wow." Arato said. "I never went that far west—I was in the Land of Silk's court for the most part. Great place. Lots of political machinations—it was a blast."
Akina rolled her eyes. "Not for me, thanks all the same." She refilled her bowl. "I was mostly set to economic intelligence, so I got a job with a merchant who sold up and down this river—"
"Just on the river?" Sakura asked.
"That's the great thing about the Land of Dragons! The place has three major rivers, each of them massive and wide and long, and you can trade up and down any of them for your entire life alongside so, so many others, and still become filthy rich if you play your cards right! Dragons might be coastal, but to be honest with how stormy the seas are river trade is where its at."
"That sounds… outdoorsy." Arato said.
Sakura snorted.
The door burst open.
"Akina! Arato!"
"Hey Ren! Hey Ikue! Hello, additional people!"
"You're home!" Ren shouted, sweeping the two of them out of their chairs.
"I'm your nephew Rento; Yoriko's your niece." Rento said.
And then the door—thankfully still open, or else it would no doubt have been even louder—banged against the wall again.
"Akina! Arato!"
"Hey Sayuri!" Akina said.
"Oh my god, you stink!" Arato said.
"Hey, I've been busy tracking down a missing-nin in Fire territory!" Sakura snapped. "Showers weren't exactly a priority." And then she wrapped them in a not-entirely-willing hug.
The door banged again, and Sakura went to fetch the door stop.
"Akina! Arato!"
"Kamui! Great stew—you've really improved!"
"Of course I have! Do you know how long its been? Wait! I have to go get my son so you can meet him!"
"Where's all the chairs?" Ren asked.
"Gone." Sakura shrugged. "Cousin Sakura-with-black-hair had triplets who were finally old enough to sit in chairs, so we gave them to her."
Ibiki burst through the door. "Hello-nice-to-meet-you-my-name-is-Ibiki-Aunt-Sakura-is-one-of-my-guardians-and-that-makes-me-your-nephew-I-am-almost-eight-years—"
"—I'm going to go get the chairs from my house," Ren said. "The aunts are going to want to visit, too—I'll let them know they need to bring chairs—"
"I'll get started with the meal." Sakura said. "Sayuri, shower."
"Fine, fine! I don't think I smell that bad!"
"Aunt Sakura!" Rento shouted from… somewhere. "Where is the extra silverware? There's not enough for everyone in this drawer!"
"That is the extra silverware!" Sakura called back. "The rest is in the drawer next to—"
"Found them!"
Sakura grinned, looking around at the many, many people crowding into the house.
This… this felt…
This felt like home.