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Chapter Text

Yanagi

“Hokage-sama!”

Kakashi tensed as Genma’s bright chakra nearly toppled  into the office. Genma never called him Hokage-sama. Never.

“What is it?”

“Th-there’s– a– a tree… and the… dead people…” The man’s stuttering was so horrified and nonsensical that Kakashi couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but the words ‘tree’ and ‘dead people’ were enough to make all the alarm bells go off in his head anyway.

“Get Naruto!” he bellowed at his other guards. After a moment’s thought, he added, “and Sakura! Get our strongest! Let them know it’s a state emergency.” He whirled back on Genma, realizing only then that he’d stood from his desk at some point. “Where was this? Repeat again, what happened?”

Genma was hyperventilating. “Sc-scouting pa-patrol.”

“Breathe,” Kakashi snapped. “Genma.”

Genma was barely able to breathe deeply, though he seemed to be making a concentrated effort. “C-close to the v-valley of the end,” he chocked out. “T-there’s a – willow tree,” he panted out. “Gi-gigantic. And… and they… they were lying beneath it.”

“They?” Kakashi repeated tensely.

“T-the founders,” Genma stuttered. “A-and a bunch of Uchiha… and… what looked like Uzumaki… and… even…” he trailed off.

“Even?” Kakashi pressed, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

“E-even… I thought I saw… the yondaime,” Genma rasped out. “And a… a white-haired man.”

“Jiraiya?” Kakashi asked.

Genma shrugged, as if to say that he didn’t know.

Now it was Kakashi’s turn to lose control of his breathing. All sorts of horror scenarios were rushing through his head. Kaguya, returned, only this time she’d resurrected… she’d resurrected… but no. Genma said they were asleep. Perhaps there was still time to cut them down before something truly awful could happen.

“Sensei!” Naruto’s shout reached his ears as the blonde yanked the window open, so hard that the crystal broke. Naruto paid it no heed, pouncing into the office. Kakashi could glimpse Sakura, also wide-eyed and apprehensive-looking, approaching behind him. The chakra of Tenzo and many of his most trusted was also close to reaching his office. Best find a more open space before they all got here.

“To the roof,” Kakashi barked, shunshining there without another word.

Sakura and Naruto wasted no time in following, jumping up to the rooftop only a split second after him, followed swiftly by Tenzo, Gai, and an entire battalion of ANBU and jonin his guards seemed to have managed to gather up in record time.

Kakashi barely remembered briefing them all; there was a rushing in his ears as he spoke. In fact, he barely remembered the run to the valley Genma had described, the valley with the giant willow tree. He only snapped out of it when the tree came into view in the distance.

“What on earth?” Shikamaru mumbled behind him, taking an anxious drag of his cigarette. Kakashi wanted to tell him to cut that out, but he was too shocked to form words. As they got closer, he could suddenly see them, smell them even.

No, it couldn’t be.

“They are asleep!” Naruto exclaimed. “That’s good! We can take them out before they wake up!”

“Naruto, look!” Kakashi heard Sakura talking over the blonde. She was pointing at something. “Isn’t that your dad?”

Kakashi heard Naruto’s intake of breath. Kakashi’s own heart stopped at the sight. Sakura was right… Minato-sensei was… right there. Kakashi could even make out his smell… but how?

“ D-dad ?” Naruto whispered weakly.

They’d been running so fast, they’d already made it to the tree. The crowd of warriors running behind him had stopped, a hush falling over them. They couldn’t peel their eyes away from the bodies… the snoozing bodies of their loved ones.

“Why do they look… healthy?” Shikamaru asked into the silence.

Kakashi turned to regard him sharply. Then he glanced back at the closest body again – that of an Uzumaki child. It had no cracks. It smelled of a living child. It didn’t look like a product of the edo tensei. Frantically, he turned to regard Minato-sensei again, only then noticing Kushina next to him. Both of them looked ridiculously, miraculously, impossibly alive.

How? What cruel joke was this?

Something in him was shaking.

“It’s like after Pain,” Sakura said quietly from next to him. “Kakashi-sensei… Naruto… do you think… could this be a repeat of then?”

They both turned to regard at her. Kakashi hadn’t seen Naruto looking so lost, so fragile and broken and freshly grieving in… he didn’t even know.

“But Sakura-chan… Nagato died,” Naruto said softly.

Sakura frowned, carefully approaching the Uzumaki closest to them.

“Sakura, no!” Kakashi yelled, his voice coming out hoarse, but it was too late, she had stepped beneath the shadow of the tree, reaching out towards the child. She was already crouching next to him, medical palm activated… and Kakashi could only watch, as one watches a meteorite descend from the firmament, as Sakura upturned his reality.

“This child…” she whispered reverently. “This child is alive.”

Chapter Text

T̸̨̞̳̥̐̊̀̾h̵̛͈͓̔̽e̴̛̠͇̤̻͙͈̟͐̚ ̶̢̢̛͖̯̖͐̓̀̄̑̎̐̍̓ͅP̷̣̗͎̣͛͐̂̌̉͝ä̷̙̼̝͎̮͔̟̬̭́̽̈͌͂̉̿̓̈́ͅt̵̥̀͌̈́̀̅̂̊̇͠h̸͖̖̫̘͔͊͊͗́̾̄̆ͅ ̵̡̨̖̠̜͖͓̜̞͚͙̋̍̿̓̒̐̾̂͆̚͝t̴͉̺͓̤̟̘͙̠̥́̈͠ͅo̴͙̮̳̳̗͊ ̶̙̪̟̖̲͛͌̎̂̊͆̏̒͝ͅͅŔ̵̛̛͇͈̯̞̯͌̌̔̍̅̕ę̴͍̝́̽s̷̡̨̼̼͔̱̣̮̰͋̄͊s̶̙͈̦̝̙͊̽u̵̘͈͇̰̻̠͈̖̗͐̒̆͒͑̑ͅͅr̷̥̗̬̲͋̉̐͛r̸̙̹̩̞̗̖͍̯̹̾̏̊̊̚̚ͅȇ̴̢̮̩͎̻̞̩̲̱͒̍̅c̵̻̻͎̫̓̈̃̿̓͌̐̍͘͝t̷̠̏̀̍̐í̴̹̦̪̯͈̭̉̓̈́̔͐̈́̏o̷̢̭̣̪̻̥̯̼͌͋͗̌͐͝͠ń̷͕͌̆̕

Chapter Text

FOUR Years Before YANAGI

Kakashi sighed, signing off on the last document on his desk with a flourish and a relieved groan. He went on to stretch his back. Finally, his workday had come to an end. Being a kage was horrible. It was just as he was getting up from his desk to finally go home that Shikamaru poked his head into the office.

“Oh, you’re still here,” the Nara muttered – Kakashi’s heart sinking at the words.

“Unfortunately,” Kakashi said mullishly, eyeing the folder in Shikamaru’s hands. 

“I was just going to drop this off… you don’t need to look at it now,” Shikamaru said.

Kakashi just stared at the folder stiffly. It may look deceptively thin, but he knew well what was within. Shikamaru only ever bothered to put ANBU-related documents in a folder for a short treck through the tower. And the only ANBU documents that weren’t immediately brought to the kage’s desk, but rather went through a prior selection process so that Shikamaru would have to bring them to him, were the ANBU applications.

Kakashi sighed, eyeing the folder with trepidation. Who was it going to be this time?

He always ended up spending at least an hour per application, going back and forth over whether the person was ready to take the big step into the black ops or not. This was probably the reason why Shikamaru always brought him the ANBU applications at the end of the day – so that he would at least not push back all his other work in favor of this. Incidentally, this was also the reason why he didn’t review all the applications at once, at the end of each trimester, as all the preivious kage had done, but why his assistants ended up forwarding him each application as soon as it was submitted and passed the screenings. If he had to review a hundred of them at once, he’d get set back in his other work by at least a month.

He couldn’t help it, though. The sandaime, the yondaime, and the godaime hadn’t been in ANBU. Probably not the nidaime either, since he was the person who had formed the organization. Kakashi was the only kage to date who really knew – all too well – what the black ranks were like, as someone who had been entrenched in their deepest depths for a decade. Each time he signed off on one of those ANBU applications, he felt like he was signing off on an execution. He would always call the applicant to his office to give them a talking to about the dangers of ANBU, but so far he hadn’t managed to get a single one to back out. In fact, Kakashi’s attempts to get his people to rethink going into ANBU had only earned the ire of his ANBU commander, who would fly into the office in a rage and rant at him to stop trying to boycott his own soldiers.

Kakashi sighed. Well, best get the ANBU application over with now, before going home. That way he could catch the stupid fool first thing tomorrow morning.

“Alright, hand it over,” Kakashi said wearily, rounding his desk and sitting down in his chair again.

Shikamaru hesitated, the white folder still clutched in his hand.

Kakashi eyed him impatiently. “What?” he asked tartly.

“You might want to look at it tomorrow,” Shikamaru said softly, still holding onto the folder. “You look tired today. I wasn’t planning on giving it to you now. I only meant to drop it off.”

Kakashi resisted the urge to bristle. Did he look that worn out that his own assistant was trying to coddle him? Shikamaru always made him read these at the end of his workday – why should today be any different?

“Hand it over, Shikamaru,” Kakashi said tiredly. His voice may not carry the steel he could infuse into it should he want to, but the order was clearly received anyway. Shikamaru sighed and dropped the folder on his desk.

Instead of leaving, however, he settled on the couch Kakashi kept squished in a corner of the office for no particular reason. Sakura had dropped it off one day, a gift that had no true reason behind it other than Sakura’s usual generosity. In this case, she claimed he needed to rest every now and then between bouts of work. He liked lazing around on horizontal surfaces so much, he needed one to rest up in his own office. The couch had become too much of a pull, however, with Kakashi preferring to sprawl on it as he went over paperwork, so Shikamaru had ended up using it as a second desk to put paperwork on in order to force him to stop camping out on it – the idea being that Kakashi could only lie on the couch if all the paperwork Shikamaru deposited on top of it was taken care of.

Kakashi had been diligent this week, which was the only reason why Shikamaru could even sit on the couch now. The Nara was watching him expectantly. Kakashi frowned, eyeing the ANBU folder again. He began to get a really bad feeling. It wasn’t lost on him that it was the new generation who applied for ANBU now. It could be one of his students. Every time he received an application, he held his breath. Naruto had expressed no true interest in ANBU – it didn’t suit his personality, nor did he need it to improve as a warrior. Sasuke already had his own missions. He wasn’t a team player, either, so Kakashi would’ve been surprised to see Sasuke applying for a teamwork-focused branch like ANBU. That only left…

But it couldn’t be, right?

Maybe it was someone else. It had to be someone else– maybe Shikamaru himself? Yes, that had to be it. That was why he’d stayed behind today. Not some other reason. Kakashi qucikly carefully the folder.

Sakura’s picture stared straight back at him.

Goddamn it!

Kakashi snapped the folder shut again and threw it at Shikamaru. It flew across the room like a frizbee. “Rejected,” he said boredly.

Shikamaru sighed, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like ‘what a drag’. “Fine, I’ll pass it on. But don’t come crying to me when she stops talking to you.”

Kakashi ignored the  man, irritably yanking off his robe and making his way over to the window.

“Oi, Kakashi–” he heard the man call, but Kakashi was so done with the day, he didn’t want to stay and talk for even another second. He wanted to get his mind off that folder; that ANBU application.

FOUR Years Before YANAGI

He had half a mind to sleep in the Hokage residence tonight, but his feet ended up taking him to his flat anyway. He sighed, perching on the window outside. She was already there, sprawled on his couch with a book. Kakashi half debated on going to the hokage residence again, but she had already glanced up from her book, meeting his eyes through the window.

He sighed, hunching deeper on himself, and slid the window open.

“Hey, sensei,” she said cheerfully. “Long day?”

Kakashi was too tired for this shit. “You could say that,” he muttered.

Sakura returned to her book. Kakashi had half-expected her to bring up her application, but of course, she wouldn’t. Of course, she’d make him do the uncomfortable bits.

Sucks for her, I’m not going to, Kakashi thought uncharitably. He made his way over to the kitchen and fixed himself something to eat. Cooking had been a hobby that helped him destress since he was a child. He hadn’t been meaning to cook, but he found himself in dire need of it at the moment – and luckily, Sakura seemed to have stocked his fridge with the necessary ingredients for that soy-lemon-honey sauce salmon dish he liked.

She knew him too damn well, sometimes it was embarrassing. He didn’t care, anyway, proceeding to stew in his irritation as he prepared the dish.

It wasn’t a matter of Sakura not being a good fit for ANBU. He was drawn back suddenly to a time long gone, a time over a decade ago, when he had first realized how much he missed his cute little student.  They didn't talk much that time, but overall, one could say that afterwards, when they’d reunited, something had changed between them. Sakura had given him absolution for being a horrible sensei and friend, and somehow, he had decided to do anything in his power to make it up to her. It was thanks to him that she knew so many ANBU today; that she could easily join the corp if she was so inclined.

And the consequence of that was the nightmare of today: Sakura’s application inside that white folder. The whole issue was that Kakashi himself was probably at fault for Sakura’s desire to join ANBU. It was his fault half the village’s ANBU had ended up sharing one skill or another with her – his fault she was close with so many ANBU in the first place. (Somehow, Kakashi’s weak spot for his little student had become apparent to them, so they’d all just had to go and meet Sakura and negotiate for healing privileges from her).

So now – here they were. Kakashi was not pleased with the situation.

He finished putting the fish in the pan and added the sweet red peppers. Sakura emerged from the living room to watch him cook. Apparently, she’d realized he wasn’t even going to let  her try to defend her case, he wasn’t going to so much as bring it up.

“I take it you saw my application?” she asked conversationally.

Kakashi resented the interruption to his cooking. He flipped the salmon and poured the melon-honey-soy sauce into the pan. It began to sizzle dangerously.

“Don’t ignore me, damn it,” Sakura snapped. “I know you rejected it.”

“So then there’s nothing to talk about,” he concluded with a close-eyed smile. “I’m glad you see things my way.”

Sakura eyed him unhappily.

Kakashi sighed, fishing the salmon out of the pan and cutting it into two. He handed her a plate and headed off to the living room to eat his dinner. Sakura trailed behind him.

“Thank you for the meal,” she grumbled, sounding remarkably unthankful.

Even though she was already a woman of twenty-five, the almost-pout like expression she wore now made it impossible not to see the genin he felt so protective of. How could she expect him to ever sign off on a document that may as well be her execution? He simply couldn’t. There was no one in the village closer to being family than her. He couldn’t do it.

Usually, Sakura was a master of small talk. For people like Kakashi, who never had much to say, and found it hard to start conversations, this was actually quite convenient. He could always rely on her to carry the conversation, talking about her day, or maybe some interesting science journal she’d read, or some or such topic that didn’t make his soul hurt.

Today, she was  silent as the grave.

His punishment for rejecting her application, he surmised.

She was probably going to go on a silence strike unitl he at least broached the topic. Kakashi sighed. Genma was probably right when he claimed Sakura had him wrapped around her finger.

“Why do you even want to join?” he asked eventually. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t just good for killing, like him. She had so much life in her, so much intelligence, and a Hokage willing to support anything and everything she wanted to do – she literally had the world at her fingertips, and yet she insisted on this one thing, ANBU. Why?

Sakura pinched at her salmon unhappily. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know,” she muttered.

“Don’t you like the hospital?” Kakashi asked.

Sakura frowned at him. “You know I do. But after those new batches of medics we trained up, I feel redundant there. And I don’t want to be the director, so don’t even go there,” she added with narrowed eyes.

Kakashi chuckled. Sakura shared his hate for paperwork. He knew she liked to feel useful, and signing paperwork all day wasn’t conductive to that. And apparently, the hospital had too many competent medics for her to feel useful working there eiether. Kakashi almost chuckled. Leave it to Sakura to be too competent for her own good.

Truthfully, she’d dug her own grave there. She was the one who had insisted more medics needed to be trained after the war – claiming that the hospital was understaffed and they’d have a baby boom soon. Of course, as a newly appointed Hokage, Kakashi had had the power to make that come true. His first act as a kage had been to approve and design that extra medic formation program Sakura had been obsessed with passing at the time. Now, flash forward seven years since the war, the hospital and most of the regular ranks had more medics, rendering Sakura’s own almost supernatural healing talents a little ‘redundant’ as she’d put it. She truly was right that prevention was everything. With more medics in the regular ranks, and with them being in peace times, the healthcare system hadn’t collapsed in a long time, as it had used to in times of the sandaime, and sometimes with the godaime).

“There are other ways you can make a mark,” Kakashi insisted. “ANBU isn’t it, Sakura.”

“But you told me yourself that there’s starting to be unrest among the other nations,” Sakura said. “You’ve told me you’re scared the ANBU are groing too complacent.”

He did and now he bitterly regretted mentioning that. He should have known Sakura would snap that up.

“Listen,” he insisted. “There’s other ways you can make a difference. What about becoming a sensei, hm? Nurturing the minds of the next generation.”

Sakura sighed. “Why are you so against me joining ANBU? Nothing would happen to me. I’d probably be more of a target as a jonin sensei in charge of some genin. Anyone wanting to kidnap me would know exactly where to go, and the kids would be hostages.”

Point. Now Kakashi wasn’t keen on her being a jonin sensei either. “What about an Academy sensei…?” he hedged awkwardly.

Sakura sighed, looking put off. “I don’t know… I don’t think I’d be good at it.”

“You said yourself it would be benefical to have a medical ninjutsu class in the Academy already, to screen for talents,” Kakashi pressed. “Come on. If you go into ANBU, I’ll have to give it to Moritaka.”

He’d name dropped a medic Sakura didn’t like on purpose.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Sakura glared at him. “You’re fighting dirty,” she accused.

“I never claimed to be a paragon of virtue.”

Sakura crossed her arms. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll go be a teacher at the Academy – but only until the program is established. Then you’re letting me join ANBU.”

“Ma, ma, we’ll see, Sakura-chan...“ He was hoping she’d like the Academy so much that she’d forget all about ANBU after some years working there. Sakura was a kind soul, right? She’d thrive in an environment like that.

“Promise me,” Sakura insisted. “If I don’t like it there, promise me you’ll let me join ANBU.”

Kakashi sighed. He could tell she wasn’t budging on this one. “Alright,” he sighed. “I promise.”

FOUR Years Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO Years, NINE Months Before YANAGI

The five students who had nearly brained themselves after falling from the rooftop stared up at her contritely.

"But sensei! This older Inuzua boy told us all that he had smelled something suspicious on the rooftop, so of course we had to go and investigate!"

"We? No. You, Nijima, randomly decided that it was an enemy spy. Everyone agreed. I tried to stop you," one of Sakura's brighter students, Nara Mariko, muttered irritably, crossing her arms. "But you all wouldn't listen, so I figured I'd just go with you for damage control."

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it, Mariko!”

"So let me clarify…” Sakura finally interrupted her squabbling students. “All five of you climbed to the roof – nearly breaking your necks in the process – to apprehend a supposed spy that was camping up there," Sakura clarified.

Four bright souls beamed up at her.

"Spoiler alert. There was no spy," said Mariko with an eyeroll.

"There could have been!" Nijima argued. "Seriuosly, sensei! We were trying to help. You should give us an award!"

"Next time: don't." Sakura deadpanned. "You could've broken your necks."

"Well we always see you jump over the rooftop during your lunch break as if you were skipping rope so what's the big idea! Why is it so wrong if we do it?" demanded Akimichi Eiji.

Sakura sighed. "Listen, I'm an adult with lots of tree-climbing training on my belt. You know, what I was talking about in class earlier? That's why you need to have good chakra control. So you don't brain yourselves when you go to apprehend spies on the rooftop-"

Just then, someone called her name:

"Sakura-san! Sakura-san! Yamanaka-san sent a note for you."

Sakura interrupted her tirade to glance over at the Academy fence, where a chunin was eagerly waving at her. "Just a moment," she said, leaving the group of troublemakers to jog towards the fence.

Excitement welled up in her.

“Hello! Is that a message for me?”

The chunin who had called her name nodded, passing her a slip of paper.

Sakura accepted it and flicked the envelope open with a quickly produced chakra scalpel.

“From Ino?” she asked perfunctorily, even as she swiftly perused the message swiftly and then lowered the note before the chunin could read it over her shoulder, keeping her face carefully pleasant. 

“Yes! Does it say something nice?” the messenger asked.

She smiled blandly. “Oh, nothing too interesting, Ishibari-kun!” She pointedly folded the little piece of paper back into its envelope. "She’s just inviting me to hang out after work. Thanks again for going through the trouble though."

Ishibari smiled at her and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I'm happy to help."

Sakura just smiled. “I appreciate it. But hopefully you’ll catch a break from Ino soon, ne?”

He perked up.  “Yeah, hopefully. She’s still treating me as her errand boy… Maybe if I get off early I could buy you coffee? Later?”

Sakura smiled.

“Maybe another day. I could use a friendly face to chat with.”

Ishibari’s smile widened a little. “Right. Looking forward to it then!”

Sakura gave him a little smile.  

"Uh, see you around, Sakura-san!”

"See you!" she chirped, waving sunnily after him.

Iruka, who had walked over while they were talking, gave her the side-eye. “You know, you shouldn’t string him along.”

“I’m not,” she replied. "I just friend-zoned him."

Iruka shook his head.

"What did Ino want?"  

Sakura shrugged. "Nothing much. Just to hang out after work.”

"Right. And that’s why you burnt her note."  

Sakura glanced over at the pile of ash at her feet. She hadn’t even consciously decided to burn the note.

“Please. Incineration is just faster than tossing it in the bin. That too boring for you?” Sakura quirked an eyebrow at him.

The man scratched his cheek. "Ah, come on. It obviously doesn’t just ask if you want to hang out. This is the head of T&I, for crying out loud!”

“It did in fact ask that.”

Iruka poured. “I still think  it says something more juicy.”

"You know my life is incredibly boring, Iruka," Sakura said, lazy amusement rolling of her tongue. “I’ll hit you up the next time I get an actually juicy note.”

“Are you sure she would bother to send you a note just to arrange a get-together?”

Sakura shrugged. “It’s all about hazing the rookies, Iruka.”

The man sighed. “Keep your secrets then, Haruno.”

Sakura snorted. “Oh, come off it, Umino. This really is just an invitation to meet up later today.”

Much later.

“Well, I hope you girls have fun, in that case," Iruka said, giving her a  warm grin. 

Sakura smiled slowly.

“Oh, we will.”

Recess ended, and Sakura helped herd the brats along back to class right along with everyone else. She was too happy to care about anything today: finally, she had another one. At least she’d have something to look forward to during the rest of her classes. The brats of her upcoming class, 5-1, were an especially hard audience; already pre-teens but without the finals looming over their heads like the sixth graders. Sakura sighed, pleased with her good fortune. She finally had time to get on with her past times without people constantly poking into her affairs. Shishou was off on her trip and no one else would know enough to understand what she was researching.

Her thoughts wandered back to Ino and her note as she watched her students concentrate on  their fishes. Tonight would be the night... Sakura walked between their desks, enjoying how their spines straightened when she passed. Most of them, her little students, were smart enough to not even try to set a foot out of line during her class, so she had little to do in the way of keeping order. Really, the problem came where their skills were concerned. They were so behind it was depressing.  No one could blame her if she was a little strict with them.

She wasn't a very popular teacher as a result.  It didn’t really matter, as she was positively viewed by the rest of the village.

Anko, unfortunately, was the exception that proved the rule. The woman may have gotten curvy, but her mind was still one of the sharpest in the village. She was fast on the uptake… faster than the rest.  Considering she had had ample exposure to Orochimaru and his ways... well. Sakura supposed it didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. Anko was just a gnat she could crush if she felt like it.

Sakura only ran in the same circles as hee now because of hee ridiculous job at the Academy, but she and Anko? They did not play in the same league.

Even if she was an Academy teacher now, Sakura remained, by her own estimation, one of the most powerful people in Konoha.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when the bell that heralded her freedom rang (and the students’) rang its shrill tune. Her stuents stopped what they were doing and looked up at her hopefully. 

At least they’d learned not to leave before she’d dismissed them. They did learn. Slowly, but still.

“Only those who can pack their things while sticking a leaf to their forehead can leave,” Sakura said, smiling in amusement at the dismayed faces that greeted her. 

The sound of the groans signalled the end of classes at the Academy much more so than the bell did at this point. The leaving leaf, as her kids had dubbed it, was one of her go to emotion-based chakra control exercises. Chakra was much harder to mold when one was experiencing  strong emotions, so it was important that her students learn to do so now, rather than later, like say, once disaster struck. What? It was scientifically proven that one learned better when strong emotions were attached to a piece of knowledge.

Of course, she couldn’t give them all panic attacks to help them practice their emotional control, so she had to settle for making them focus when they were eager to go home.  She did make them eat poisonous mushrooms though.

Sakura eyed her kids like a hawk, memorizing who was progressing and who would need remedials while placing the worn piece of chalk next to the blackboard. She was pleased to see most of her students were successfully sticking their leaf to their foreheads while cleaning up their desks.

She raised her voice to get their attention. “Don’t forget that I will be quizzing you on the poisonous mushrooms covered this week Monday morning. Those experiencing brain rot will be made to eat any mushrooms they can't identify so I suggest you study for this."

"But you'll just heal us afterwards, right?" asked an Inuzuka kid anxiously.

"I will heal you after you injest the thing, yes," Sakura said. "But believe me when I say that it won’t be pleasant.”

Her students weren't even surprised at this point. The groans mostly just sounded resigned.

Sakura smiled cheerily at her class and shouldered her bag.

And now… let’s go to the lab!

She quickly gathered her shawl and cardigan, when the bane of her existance within these walls waltzed in.

“Oi, Sakura.” An unwelcome voice wafted over to her –  Anko was poking her head into the classroom.

She instead gave Anko a friendly smile. “How can I help you, Mitarashi-sensei?”

Anko chewed on more of the dango she always carried around and deliberately smeared some of it over the classroom door.  

“I gave detention to some brats. Could you take care of it? Thanks.” Before Sakura had a chance to reply, the woman sunshined off. Anko was trying to get her mask to crack.  Sakura mostly watched her petty little attempts with amusement. If she hadn’t cracked under Danzo’s tender mercies, she sure as hell wasn’t going to so much as get chipped by Anko’s little power plays.

Sakura pulled a handkerchief  out of her bag and walked up to the door, starting to scrub over the dango marks.  When she was done, she turned back to the classroom at large.

"The ones who have detention, with me," Sakura called, eyeing the children in question. "And don't even try to beg out, Chiaki, I'm watching you. Everyone else, have a nice day! Those who haven’t managed the leaving leaf yet can go now.”

The students who were free to go rushed out of the classroom with all the energy of rampaging zoo animals, while the detention-addled children dragged their feet before shuffling up to her desk.

It was the usual suspects. Sakura folded her arms and stared down at the troublemakers.

“Thank the Sage. I really thought we were gonna be stuck hanging off those chains in Anko’s office again," whispered Akimichi Eiji to his friends.

“I think I kinda woulda liked that,” Nijima Satoru whispered back – he was sitting on his desk, legs tangling as he painted a crude penis on it with chalk.

Sakura walked over.

“That is a rather lacklustre depiction of the male anatomy, Satoru-kun,” Sakura observed with hidden amusement, walking over to him. "Do I need to cover the reproductive organs in class tomorrow?"

The boy blushed, lowering his head. "We don't have class tomorrow, sensei." Shy he may be, but he had a mouth on him.

Sakura bit back a smirk and nodded at the chalk penis. “Next time, I want to see an anatomically accurate penis or none at all. Now clean that misproportioned filth off my desk."

The children giggled, one of them mouthing ‘micro penis’ and sending them all into a fit.

“Won't happen again, sensei.” Nijima went to fetch some supplies to clean up his drawing, grinning foxily at his friends.

Sakura leaned back against the blackboard and cast a minor ominousness genjutsu. Immediately, they tensed and stared at her like deer caught in headlights. She smiled, remembering Kakashi’s employment of similar tactics, and cocked her head at her students, arching a carefully manicured brow. "Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Her students all fidgeted, Satoru rubbing his nape self-consciously, while she stared them down.   

"You know why we climbed to the roof, sensei," Satoru muttered, staring at his feet. "You were there."

 "Fine then. I’m sure you already got a long lecture for this during break, so I’ll skip it. What punishment did Nadeshiko-sensei assign?”

“He said we should write lines.”

Sakura sighed internally. 

“Well, I happen to have lost all my line-writing templates so we’re going to learn tree walking instead, just in case you smell any other spies on the rooftop…”

She minded their detention until the sun started to set, until it was time for her lab. Then she set off.

TWO Years, NINE Months Before YANAGI

Sakura’s footsteps didn’t make any noise as she breezed through the deserted corridors of T&I. The door of room 345 was already ajar. Sakura carefully pushed it open.

“You’ve kept me long enough, Forehead.”

Sakura smiled, entering deeper into the room. Ino was perched on a stool. A man was lying on a metal examination table.

“What has he done, that you consider him bad enough for me?” Sakura asked, eyeing the man. Her fingers were itching to start.

“Serial rapist, pedophile. He’s got enough disgusting a history to fill out a ten page list.”

“Good. Tell me, Ino, is he an enemy of Konoha?”

“No, he’s from Fire. A normal criminal.”

Hm. “So  he’s a civilian,” Sakura surmised. “However did he wind up in T&I then?”

“Oh,” Ino chuckled. “You know how it is, peace times… I couldn’t find anyone suitable for you amongst the people we’ve been catching lately. This guy, though… I think he deserves to die for science, don’t you, Forehead?”

Sakura eyed the man for a while longer. “You have been in his head. Your word is enough.”

The man was asleep, so he didn’t put up much of a fight. They had learned their lesson after the first one.  Sakura picked him up bridal style.

“You’ve got your lab prepped?” Ino asked.

“Of course I do,” she replied. She had been waiting for this day for weeks.

Ino nodded. “Good. Ready when you are.”

A moment later, they had made it to her lab with a poof of smoke. Sakura dropped the subject onto the examination table and began to hook him to an assortment of machines she’d already prepared. Then she strode to the seal at the entrance and activated the wards. Sakura herself had never been particularly good at fuinjutsu, definitely not good enough to come up with wards of her own, but luckily, Kakashi had painted this seal for her.

Sakura eyed her latest notes from the corner of her eyes, her fingers twitching. Time to test her new theories.

TWO Years, NINE Months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO Years, EIGHT Months Before Yanagi

“Sakura, I understand wanting to keep on learning, but these experiments… all alone… I don’t like it.”

Sakura frowned, peering into her teacup. She and Kakashi were sitting on his couch again, having relocated there after a joint dinner. It wasn't the first time Kakashi had broached the matter of her experiments. He suspected something, Sakura feared. He had never said it outright, but... Sakura knew him to well. Or perhaps he knew her too well.

She offered him a smile. "You know my experiments are fulfilling for me, on a personal level, though, don't you? Masllow's pyramid of needs and all that."

"Spending time with friends is a lot lower on that pyramid," Kakashi countered.

“Well, I'm spending time with you right now, aren't I?" Sakura asked, raising her brows. "And I still accept to participate in Lee's ridiculous matches whenever he's in the village. Why is it so bad that I research things in my own time?"

Kakashi frowned, pursing his lips. He didn't wear his mask at home, which made it easier to read his unease at the moment. "Sakura... I don't know. Why can't you participate in a regular research group? With other people?"

"I would. But with Shishou off on her voyage, there’s hardly anyone I could bounce my ideas off on. I am reduced to my own company.”

"You were reduced to your own company back when Tsunade was in the village too."

"Well, she was the Hokage. I couldn't exactly pester her with my personal ideas back then."

That got a thoughtful look in Kakashi’s face. “Come with me,” he said.

Sakura eyed him curiously. Her lab was calling to her, but even she didn’t just up and refuse an order from the Hokage like that. At least, not without any motive to.

“Where to? D' you want to spar again?”

“Ah, no,” Kakashi chuckled. "I just had an idea..."

They walked for a while in more or less companionable silence until making it to the Hokage tower. From there, they ascended the stairs to the archive… and then, Kakashi pressed his hands into a seal in the wall that lead to the opening of The Door.

Sakura had only seen this door get opened a few times in her life. It was supposed to be a state secret only kage were privy to, but being close with the past, present and future kage meant she’d seen this room a couple of times – though she’d never been able to enter unsupervised. Only the current kage could open the door.

“Here. Maybe these could help you in your research,” Kakashi remarked, gesturing around the room. “But you’ll have to have me in here with you every time you come.”

Sakura’s eyes widened, scanning the room. At a mere glance she could tell just how much of a gift this was… and how much of a trap. Kakashi was a crafty bastard alright. By putting a library like this at her disposal, with all the nidaime’s secret jutsu and writings within reach, the temptation to seek out the exact materials she’d need was great. But should she do so, Kakashi would know immediately what she was researching, and that could never happen.

“Oh, thank you, Kakashi! This is such a wonderful gift!”

She made sure to give him an enthusiastic hug. Then, she pulled a scroll from the wall at random and began to read. The only way she could go for the materials she really wanted to was by wasting a lot of time reading different things, so that Kakashi wouldn’t know what she was truly after.

It was even doubtful that the scrolls she wanted to read were here, but… if they were anywhere in the village still, then it was within this room. Orochimaru had managed to get his hands on them, once. Most likely, the sandaime had made the mistake of leaving Orochimaru unsupervised in this very room. Sakura… Sakura wasn’t like Orochimaru, though. She didn’t want that knowledge for her own selfish gain.

It was her gift. Her gift to all those she loved.

TWO Years, EIGHT Months Before Yanagi

Kakashi dragged in some of his paperwork, and they settled in the secret room to work together. The nidaime was the kage who had most researched subjects that were tangentially related to her own interests, so Sakura figured it would be alright to stray to his side of the room for now. Perhaps she could even get away with reading what she wanted as soon as today… After all, if Kakashi realized she wasn’t biting, perhaps he wouldn’t let her come back here.

Wouldn’t a curious, innocent bystander at least want to have a peek at the scroll of sealing? Or, say… at The Scroll of the Dead? Wouldn’t it be even more suspicious if she deliberately didn’t look at them?

At that moment, Sakura felt a new chakra presence approaching the room. Instants later, Naruto burst through the  door.

“Sensei! Sakura-chan! What’cha doing in here?”

“Naruto,” Kakashi groaned. “You’re not even supposed to know this room exists yet.”
“Yeah, well neither is Sakura-chan. What are you guys up to?”

Sakura shrugged. “Reading. Kakashi offered to let me use the library here.”

“Oh, really? What’s the occasion? It’s not your birthday.”

“You’d have to ask Kakashi,” Sakura replied. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

Kakashi merely gave Naruto a little smile and said nothing.

The blonde pouted, walking over to Sakura and glancing over her shoulder, but clearly growing bored rather quickly with her material of choice. Sakura couldn’t blame him. She’d ended up picking out some sort of fuinjutsu manual written by the nidaime and she understood only the page numbers. Fuinjutsu had never been her area of expertise.

Naruto boredly walked around the room. Sakura eyed him thoughtfully. If only he could distract Kakashi, maybe she could…

“Oh, look at this! It’s the scroll of sealing!” Naruto exclaimed, yanking out a large scroll from a shelf. He did it so carelessly that a number of other scrolls fell off as well, falling open and burying Naruto in a pile of paper.

“Ouch!” the blonde complained weakly.

Sakura’s heart jumped in her throat. Now was her chance. She glanced quickly at Kakashi, who had just glanced at her. Damn it. He was onto her.

“Naruto, you need to be more careful,” Sakura scolded, approaching his pile of scrolls. “These are historical artifacts, you dunce.”

“Sakura-chan, I nearly got clobbered to death by these scrolls… have a little more empathy…”

Sakura sighed and picked a scroll from the pile up, beginning to roll it up. “Whatever. Help clean up your mess, will you?”

Now, if she managed to pick up the scroll she wanted… perhaps she could steal it. Hide it in her clothes just long enough to make a copy and then bring it back here once the chance presented  itself. She could ask Kakashi to allow her to come here again. Surely Kakashi hadn’t read all the scrolls. He’d be hard pressed to know which one she’d taken, even if he noticed one was missing…

Except she wanted to take the shadiest of them all. What were the odds that he wouldn’t notice that one missing? What if she replaced it? Sakura eyed the scrolls carefully. Each one had a cylindrical cover it slid into. What if she switched the covers?

As they were cleaning, Sakura quickly scanned the pile of scrolls for the one she wanted. She didn’t even know what it looked like, which presented a problem… but perhaps…

“Naruto, let’s make shadow clones,” Sakura suggested. “I have better things to do with my time than cleaning.”

“Aw, Sakura-chan, but I’m exhausted,” Naruto complained. “They worked me to the bone today again…”

“Well, training to be the next Kage isn’t a walk in the park,” Kakashi noted from next to Naruto.

“Yeah,” Sakura chuckled. She feigned resignation. “And I guess Kakashi’s too tired as well. Really, guys, you should forget about being Hokage and join me at the Academy. Much less exhausting!”

She quickly made handsigns and an array of shadow clones appeared. With any luck, one of her clones would find the scroll before Naruto or Kakashi did. Her odds had just increased... Kakashi was probably banking on catching her and figuring out what she was researching - he had made the mistake of warding her lab even against himself, so this would be his only shot... but if she could trick him, using Naruto's distraction...

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll become a teacher after being the Hokage…” Naruto mused.

Sakura snorted. “Naruto, you’re  not even the Hokage yet.”

“I could make you a jonin sensei though,” Kakashi mused. “All kage except for Hashirama were sensei at some point.”

“Aw, but then I’d have  to wait forever until becoming Hokage!”

While the two were talking, Sakura searched the room for the scroll, careful to be descreet. She was in the process of rolling up another random scroll when, suddenly, there was a rustle… and she felt something slipping into her lab coat. She carefully didn’t react, though her mind was racing. That must be one of the clones. One of the clones had found the scroll? Did the clone also replace the cover, as per her plan?

Her heart was beating so fast, she was certain Kakashi would be able to smell her sweat soon if she didn’t get her reaction under control. Thankfully, she was a medic. Sakura breathed in carefully through her nose.

When they finished cleaning up the secret room, Kakashi insisted on counting the scrolls just as Sakura dispelled her clones. The memory of her clone quickly slipping one of her medical scrolls into another holder, and switching it out with  the scroll she wanted surfaced just as Kakashi finished counting.

“Alright, looks like it’s all in order.”

“Duh, sensei. Hey, guys, what d’you say we get some ramen? All this scroll sorting’s made me hungry!”

“Sasuke’s not in the village,” Sakura said quickly, hoping to deter Naruto, but the blonde was unstoppable where ramen was concerned.

“He’s never in the village, Sakura-chan! What do you care now? Come on, let’s go get some!”

Sitting through the meal was one of the most nerve wrecking things she’d ever done, but finally it was over and she could go to her lab to open the scroll.

Sakura grinned at the two men waving at her happily.

“See you, Naruto! And Kakashi, let the hair stylist know that you want a rec for conditioner types!”

“See you around, Sakura-chan!”

TWO Years, EIGHT Months Before Yanagi

Finally. Finally she could read the scroll.

The door to the lab creaked open and Sakura dropped her bags to the floor. A moment later, the saline solution was hooked to the man and she began washing her hands. They were shaking as she pulled out the scroll.

It came without a cover, of course. She had left that at the secret room. Therefore, the bold kanji announcing its title were no longer on display. It was just spindly, small handwriting – pages upon pages of it.  But there it was. In a smaller, cursive script, she saw it.

Impure World Reincarnation.

If she could understand this, then she could eventually improve upon the nidaime’s jutsu and create her ultimate technique: the Pure World Reincarnation.

TWO Years, EIGHT Months Before Yanagi

"Another day, another detention. Hop to it, brats."

It was a  Monday, and one week after she'd stolen The Scroll of the Dead. With these words, Sakura vaulted up her usual branch, so as to sit on it while she minded the usual suspects' continued detention. Despite being only fifth years, they were close to mastering tree walking now. Sakura  was secretly proud of them.

"Sensei... why do we have to keep doing this?" Nijima whined, right on cue.

Because your potential isn't going to waste on my watch, Sakura thought with a scoff. Of course, she didn't say that. Instead, she regarded her students ominously. “If you’re going to risk your necks by climbing onto rooftops, Satoru-kun, you may as well learn how to do it so you won't cause me extra paperwork."

As Sakura walked the kids through the basics tree walking principles once more, she was surprised at how attentive and receptive they  were being. The kids had been at it for a week and yet the exercise, which was a punishment, still held their attention. For the rowdiest bunch in the rowdiest year, that was no small miracle. She internally sighed. If only they could behave like this in her class… But of course, tree walking was much more appealing to learn than medical ninjutsu. Honestly, she understood. It wasn't like holding your hands over a fish, watching nothing happen, was fun.

Learning medicine was boring to kids, no matter how she looked at it, textbooks were just too lacklustre  when compared to spitting fire or walking on water, and she could do jackshit to change that. Iryo-ninjutsu was a craft which involved sitting still for long periods and concentrating, all of which were things little children weren’t too fond of… Perhaps there was a reason why medicine hadn’t been part of the Academy curriculum before. Perhaps she had been overzealous in her ideas of teaching medicine to younger kids. If Tsunade-shishou hadn’t had this initiative, then what made her think that she knew everything better? She’d known she should just join ANBU. Her plan to start screening for talents from an early age was doomed when those talents had no interest in learning.

She stopped paying attention to what the children were up to as her attention moved to her research notes, propped against her knees. She had been pouring over her copy of The Scroll of the Dead for a week now. From its complexity, she had quickly ascertained she’d need to spend at least a month or two to understand the technique, cross referencing it with other texts on chakra and hypothesizing in order to reach full comprehension on how resurrecting the dead - even in an impure manner - was even possible. It seemed that the nidaime had approached the problem from an entirely different angle than hers. She sighed. Did that mean that her research was doomed? Her theories about telomere elongation and free radicals’ elimination and all the other things…?

What did he even mean by the concept of “soul”? Sakura was a woman of science. She didn’t believe in “souls”. Of course, she understood that the man had lived in archaic times, but still, it was frustrating to translate his strange elucubrations into concepts that made sense to her. Thankfully, this scroll seemed to contain the sum of the nidaime’s experiments on this topic. She would simply have to repeat them and match her own conclusions to his. Perhaps, she should even perform the experiments without reading his results first, so as to eliminate any possible bias…

She turned back to her diagram of the body she was currently experimenting on. Well, it was technically not a body. Her current test subject was technically still alive, though vegetative. She had forgotten to ask Ino for this guy’s name. But truthfully, what did it matter? A man like him didn’t deserve to be remembered.

“Sakura-sensei! This is so cool! I’m doing it!” Nara Mariko's voice drew her from her musings. Sakura glanced up at the girl with surprise.

"Oh, congratulations, Mariko-chan," Sakura said. Mariko was the first to have figured it out, her Nara ponytail defying gravity more so than usual as she dangled from one of the taller branches.

Sakura smiled down at the girl, closing her notebook carefully. It had taken Naruto and Sasuke a week of nonstop training to figure out tree-walking at the age of twelve. Nara Mariko was ten. Sakura grinned. It was nice to be a teacher.

She gave Mariko a thumbs up. "Good job. A ninja can tree walk while doing other things, however, so why don't you try to remain as you are while multitasking?"

"Multitasking, sensei?" Mariko asked curiously.

"Yes, for example, you could complete your math homework upside down."
Cue groans from her students.

Sakura chuckled and went back to her notes. The rest of the detention was spent peacefully, with the children practicing their tree walking and gossiping – mainly about Anko, for some reason.

“Dad says her time as Orochimaru’s student has messed her up,” Eiji whispered, “and that’s why she’s… you know.” Sakura was inclined to believe his dad.

“Uncle Inoshi says that  violence is the only coping mechanism Anko has ever known, being a torturer and all. Possibly also an ANBU,” whispered Chiaki.

"Anko-sensei was an ANBU? For real?"

“Probably. And a really deadly one. Where before, missions kept her sane, now that she is off the field, the extent of her problems is truly showing. She needs  the release she used to get from killing.”

"Ooh, scary."

"Do you think she'll go after any of us?"

"I don't know.

Sakura scoffed.

Anko was less dangerous than your average lamb. Snapping her book closed, she glanced down at the kids.
"More tree walking and less gossiping, kiddos!" 

The group fell silent - for a while. Sakura continued working on her research.

YANAGI

Roughly two years in the future, Sakura had just crouched over the seemingly sleeping Uzumaki child.

“Sakura, no!” Kakashi yelled, his voice coming out hoarse, but it was too late, she had stepped beneath the shadow of the tree, reaching out towards the child. She was already crouching next to him, medical palm activated… and Kakashi could only watch, as one watches a meteorite descend from the firmament, as Sakura upturned his reality.

“This child…” she whispered reverently. “This child is alive.”

A hush went through the crowd.

“Why is he sleeping then?” asked Shikamaru, approaching their group warily.

“It seems to be caused by simple exhaustion,” Sakura said, her voice soft. Kakashi knew that tone – she often used it when she wanted to appear especially kind or innocent. It typically meant, at least in his experience, that she was up to something.

“you’re telling us he’s alive?” Kakashi asked.

“I am. He’d just asleep – not even due to a genjutsu. I would wager he and the other… er, corpses should start waking up soon. Alive.”

Kakashi’s heart began to beat even faster. Waking up? What? No, he wasn’t ready–!

He began to look around frantically, cataloging the dead – or rather, the living – with desperation. There, sensei and Kushina. Further back… Uchiha Itachi. No. How on–? Then, Shisui. A few paces away… Jiraiya. And further back still… Kakashi’s breath hitched. His. No. It couldn’t be. His father?

He couldn’t peel his eyes off – not until a familiar, bone-chilling voice spoke. “What on earth is going on here?”

Kakashi turned, slowly, as if in a night terror… and there he was, his sleep paralysis demon: Uchiha Madara.

Kakashi’s very blood froze in his veins. Madara, buck naked, stood tall amongst the corpses, and was staring at them with red, dangerous eyes.

“Who the hell are you?”

Kakashi stared at him stupidly. This has to be a joke, right?

It occurred to him that, as the kage, he was probably supposed to be answering.

Carefully, he took a step forward. He made sure not to meet Madara’s eyes directly as he answered: “I am Hatake Kakashi, Hokage of Konoha. State your purpose.”

He could feel Madara watching him intently.

Then, another voice. “ What . Is the meaning of this?” Kakashi took a risk in peeking at the new speaker, and froze to death in shock when he noticed Tobirama Senju shaking a still sleeping Hashirama Senju. “Anija, if this is your idea of a joke…!” Tobirama was saying. Hashirama slept blessedly on, much to the nidaime’s obvious distress.

Madara had noticed him too, from the looks of it. “Oi, albino bastard,” the Uchiha called out. “You  can stop it with the act. I know you came up with this… whatever this is.”

Tobirama tensed much as an electrocuted cat would have, though he didn’t make the mistake of looking at Madara.

“I assure you, Uchiha, this was no plan of mine.”

“Like we’d believe you.” This voice, Kakashi didn’t recognize, but upon glancing over… Sasuke?

Kakashi stared, stupefied, at his student, who had walked over to stand next to Madara. Both of them were still completely naked, and both had matching glares on their faces as they stared Tobirama down.

“O-oi,” Kakashi heard someone whisper. “What the hell is going on? This is really weird, y'all!”

No. It couldn’t be.

Yet his eyes did not betray him. Upon glancing over – there was Kushina, once more failing at subtlety as she whispered into Minato (a wide awake, living, tense as a bow string) –that Minato’s – ear.

“Kakashi, what the hell is happening?” that was Jiraiya, who had gotten up and was striding towards him, stepping over some of the still sleeping bodies without even a modicum of modesty.

“Pervy-Sage!” That was Naruto, of course. Naruto, crying. “Pervy Sage!” Naruto yelled, running across the field towards Jiraiya. “You’re alive!”

Jiraiya looked completely gobsmacked as Naruto good as jumped him. Kakashi had half a mind to call out that it was a trap, but the words stayed lodged in his throat.

Slowly but surely, more and more of… these people were waking up, and seemed to become distracted by their relatives.

A hasty glance at the – holly shit, the living and breathing – founders, revealed that even they were busy with a reunion now. Madara had turned back to his Uchiha clansmen – he was in the middle of loudly demanding who the hell Itachi and Shisui were while Sasukev –  or was it Sasuke? – made snide remarks about how the situation was suspicious.

Something similar seemed to be happening on the Senju side of things, where the Nidaime and Shodaime could be seen interrogating two little boys in an increasingly disbelieving voice.

“Of course it’s me, who else would I be?” a brown haired boy was yelling angrily.

“This is but a cruel snare from the Uchiha, anija–” Tobirama was saying emphatically. “You musn’t fall for–”

“I just told you it’s me, damn it! And why are you all so old, anyway, Tobi!?” the brown-haired boy yelled angrily.

“I-it’s true, nii-san,” added a boy with two-toned hair. “My favorite colour is blue and my favorite food is amnitsu! See? How would the Uchiha have known that? We’re not a stupid snare!”

“Kakashi-kun?”

Kakashi was shaken out of his reverie by an all-too familiar voice.  He turned his head slowly. Minato-sensei was standing there, smiling at him. Kakashi thought he was going to feel sick to the stomach.

“Kakashi, is that really you?”

His throat felt like parchment, but somehow, he managed to form words. “What do you mean, is it really me? You saw me during the war.”

Minato – and Kushina, who stood next to him – both gave him confused looks.

“You mean the third shinobi war?” Minato asked slowly.

Kakashi stared at him. “…no. I mean the fourth shinobi war.”

Minato and Kushina exchanged glances. Kushina was frowning, her expression so familiar it ached. He had forgotten what her confused face looked like.

“Kakashi-kun… how old are you?” Minato asked hesitantly.

Kakashi swallowed. “I’m thirty nine. And… you?”

Minato wore a matching expression to whatever face Kakashi was making. “I… I’m twenty-four.” He chuckled awkwardly. “By my count, anyway.”

“W-what’s the last thing you remember?” Kakashi asked, almost stumbling over his words.

Minato frowned thoughtfully. “Uh… Kushina was about to go into labor and… oh… oh, no! The masked man!”

Kakashi flinched. So… he’d remembered his death.

“Kakashi– there’s a masked man, we need to do something about him!” Minato exclaimed. “I think he’s an Uchiha, he’s–”

Kakashi lifted a hand to stop him from talking any more. “It’s… been taken care of, sensei,” he said weakly. “You can relax.”

Minato stared at him, confusion written all over his face.

“Dad? MOM?!”

Kakashi sighed mentally, noticing Naruto approaching in the distance with Jiraiya. Minato was looking at him with a panicked sort of expression. “K-kakashi? Who is that boy? Why is he–?”

“Pops!” Naruto yelled excitedly. “It’s been too long!  Mom, how have you been doing in the afterlife?”

Only you, Naruto.

Kakashi resisted the urge to rub his temples. He coughed awkwardly. “Ah, sensei, Kushina-san, meet your son. Naruto, your parents don’t remember the war, so you might want to slow down a bit.”

Minato and Kushina both looked gobsmacked, while Naruto seemed heartbroken that they didn’t remember him.

“Kid, they’re alive,” said Jiraiya from next to him. “You’ve got all the time in the world.”

Kakashi chanced a glance at the sannin then. He weakly lifted a hand in greeting.

“Yo,” he managed.

Chapter Text

Sakura opened the door and slipped through. She walked into her lab slowly, pausing in front of her writing desk. Notes upon notes were spread out on top of it – her small handwriting intermingling with the copies she’d made of the nidaime’s spindlier one.

Finally. She picked up the copy of the scroll she’d pilfered all those months ago. It was time.

Sakura grinned. She’d returned the original Scroll of the Dead to the secret library in the Hokage tower only a few days after stealing it.  Kaksahi hadn’t caught her… she’d made sure to get Naruto to open the room for her the second time, while Kakashi was out of the village on business. This meant, essentially, that she had been free to explore the nidaime’s theories to her heart’s content for the past half year, with Kakashi none the wiser.

It had taken her months to finally understand that the nidaime had used the word ‘soul’ as a keyword for something else, something that wasn’t metaphysical at all.  

She wouldn’t be surprised if Orochimaru had had access to the nidaime’s other works, likely offering more clues as to the true meaning of his metaphysical terminology. But Sakura… Sakura only had this one scroll to go off on, this one scroll she absolutely had to make sense of.  

However, she was better than Orochimaru. This scroll alone was enough. Now, she finally understood what Orochimaru everything – chief of which was that in order to truly resurrect someone, control over the Mokuton would be needed. Now she knew why Orochimaru had been so obsessed with it. She also knew what the man had done to awaken the Mokuton Yamato… and why Yamato’s Mokuton was incomplete.

Essentially, Yamato’s skills only allowed him to produce tree bark. He couldn’t make Roots, leaves, or even flowers and fruits – he could only synthesize one part of a tree, namely a very, very small unit which he then translocated indefinitely to get his tree bark creations. But he would never reach Hashirama’s level because he could only make the same thing over and over again.

The reason why he could produce bark in the first place was because some of his chakra-producing genes had been modified to produce certain proteins which facilitated the creation of bark. But… Sakura finally understood that she wouldn’t need to use the Mokuton in combat. She only needed to be able to replicate those same genetic sequences for her purposes – and she could take as long as she wanted, using as many templates as she wanted.

Realistically, all she’d have to do now was work on replicating just one part of a plant: the leaves that were capable of synthesizing energy out of sunlight, water, and mineral salts. If she could figure out how to make energy out of nothing, she could figure out how to create living creatures out of nothing.

There was an end within sight now. Perhaps in less than a year, she’d be done.

TWO years, SEVEN months Before YANAGI

Sakura stilled, following Yamato’s movements carefully out of the corner of her eye.

“Ah… yes, that…” She trailed off as another wooden stick sprouted from the soil. “Your chakra usage optimization is much better now…”

“Wow, thank you, Sakura-chan. I feel like, with this much of a difference, I can put off my retirement for another couple years at least!” the man exclaimed enthusiastically.

Sakura offered him a strained grin. “I’m happy to help, Yamato-taichou. But remember, don’t tell anyone I helped you. It might make me into a target if people knew I’d looked into your Mokuton, albeit briefly.”

“Of course not, Sakura-chan. Your genius is safe with me.” Yamato winked.

Sakura returned his smile, standing to her feet. “Well then. I do believe there’s little else I can do to help you optimize the mokuton. We’ve progressed a lot in the past month.”

“That’s an understatement!” the man enthused. “I’m in your debt for this!”

“Ah, don’t talk like that, Yamato,” Sakura demured, her eyes sharpening as she smiled. “What are teammates for?”

“At least let me treat you to some lunch as a thank you,” the man insisted.

“Don’t feel like you have to, it was my pleasure to help.”

“You’re too kind, Sakura-chan–”

TWO years SIX months Before YANAGI

 
Orochimaru had had access to the nidaime’s other works, likely offering more clues as to the true meaning of his metaphysical terminology. But Sakura… Sakura only had this one scroll to go off on, this one scroll she absolutely had to make sense of.

It had to be enough. If Orochimaru and the nidaime had figured this out… then so could she. Yes, Orochimaru likely had had more resources, material, and time than she; but the nidaime had lived in an era that was practically the dark ages, where science was concerned – and he had still managed to create this jutsu. Sakura had no excuse to fail here.

She, who had studied under the woman who had created modern medicine, she, who had learned about chakra theory from the man who had copied a thousand jutsu, she, who had witnessed  the only successful resurrection in history – she had to do this.

Few people had seen Chiyo-obaa-san’s forbidden jutsu from up close and only one person qualified to understand it had been amongst them: Sakura herself. She had never forgotten the hand seal sequence. She’d extrapolated how Chiyo’s jutsu worked as the first part of her research: essentially, Chiyou had force-impregnated herself through asexual reproduction and traded the growing seed of life inside of her for Gaara’s. She hadn’t resurrected Gaara out of nowhere, she had speed-nurtured a clone of herself into being and used its life force to bring back Gaara. Perhaps the technique wouldn’t have killed her, had Chiyo been younger. Many women had survived miscarriages, after all – but how many could say they had survived an asexual-reproduction-resulted miscarriage at the age of eighty?

Sakura had successfully revived recently deceased animals and even people with Chiyo’s technique, but there were problems with it. The jutsu could be used to bring someone recently diseased back to life, but it didn’t work on any person who had been dead for over half an hour. Once tissue necrosis set in, Chiyo’s technique was useless. A person’s neurons started to die almost immediately after their heart stopped beating, if one waited a little longer, they’d be brain-dead upon their resurrection.

That was why Sakura’s earlier studies had resulted in vegetative corpses…  their muscles had lost their tone as ATP left their cells… and even if she could bring the strength back to the rest of the body, their brain remained a mass of useless mush.

ATP. Neurons. Energy. Synapses. Life. Mitochondria. Telomerase. The respiratory chain. The  key of life, the key she strived for.

TWO years FIVE months Before YANAGI

“How was it?” Ino asked her that weekend. She'd managed to contain herself all throughout their spa date, but it seemed that getting tea together had finally been too much. Ino had broken down.

...and Sakura would have to own up to yet another wasted corpse.

“Ah… another failure,” Sakura sighed, propping her chin on her wrist. Well, she supposed he wasn't a corpse yet but this experiment wasn't looking good either. The most crucial hours were the first. If she couldn't bring him back from his vegetative state...

“Don’t pout, Forehead. You’ll get it right eventually.” Ino placed a hand on her shoulder, but the blonde was pouting too.

“You sure have a lot of faith in me for someone who understands nothing about what I’m doing," Sakura remarked bitterly. Perhaps we should just quit... you could lose your job over this, Ino. You and me both.

“I understand enough to know you’re good at it,” the blonde insisted.

Sakura sighed again, biting into her mochi. “Well, I’m glad you’re so invested in my success…”

Not that she would be, were her father not dead...

“Of course I’m invested! Something’s gotta come off all that time you spend as a shut-in, right, Forehead?” Ino exclaimed.

“Yeah, yeah…” Sakura trailed off. She always took care to sense her surroundings when they were discussing her extracurriculars, and Kakashi had just so happened to get into her range. He was likely planning on checking on her. Best change the topic before he got here.

“Ne, what about your new boyfriend, though? How’s that going?”

“I don’t know… I’m thinking if maybe I should give Sai another shot, you know… Can we not talk about my love life for once?” Ino complained.

“Please, you always wanna talk about it.”

“That’s because nothing’s going on in yours, Billboard Brow!”

“Maybe so, but you don’t see me complaining,” Sakura quipped, slurping her tea in that loud way Ino hated.

The blonde stuck out her tongue.

TWO years FOUR months until YANAGI

How could one create life from nothing? It seemed impossible, and yet, the more Sakura obsessed over the problem, the more she had started to realize that there must be a solution, even if the nidaime and Orochimaru and Chiyo and her Shishou all had failed… there was a solution. After all, Hashirama-sama had been capable of creating living creatures out of soil and water. Yes, the Mokuton proved that her efforts weren’t futile. When she had finally understood that the Mokuton was the last piece of the puzzle, everything had started to click into place. 

The revelation had come to her three months ago – after three months of studying the nidaime’s scroll. In his writings, the man spoke of the terms ‘spirit’ and ‘soul’ as if they were two concrete things, often alluding to the fact that they could be summoned. In fact, he seemed to have figured out how to ‘summon souls’ – the main pillar upon which the working mechanism of the impure world reincarnation rested. Sakura thought that those words were just red herrings, though – that the nidaime was referring to something else when he spoke of summoning souls and the spirit – though he seemed to have been unable to do the latter.

After much pondering over what he could mean by those concepts, finally, it had clicked: by spirit, the nidaime must mean nothing but than the capacity to create energy – or in other words, by imbuing an inanimate, dead thing with spirit, the nidaime was referring to granting an entity the ability to produce its own energy. That was a requirement that would be needed for a perfect reincarnation –  a requirement which the nidaime’s jutsu had never met.

As far as Sakura understood, this ‘spirit’ issue was the point the nidaime’s jutsu had failed at, though the man was too proud to outright state so in his scroll. However, there were some vague allusions to the fact that the reanimated corpses which Tobirama had been able to produce relied on “the draw of nature as the cornerstone of their spirit” which Sakura had translated to mean that they were supported by natural chakra which was latent in the environment. This explained why the undead which the nidaime could summon never ran out of chakra, but it also explained why they were deficient: they could never be self-sufficient if they relied on chakra they didn’t produce themselves. It meant why they didn’t  need to breathe – they didn’t rely on their mitochondria for energy – and why their faces were cracked: the natural chakra was so corrosive that their empty husks for bodies couldn’t handle it.

Without the ability to produce one’s own energy, one couldn’t be a true living creature. The nidaime’s studies had focused on  restoring the soul of the reincarnated individual – in short, he had figured out how to restore their memories and experiences, their personality. He had researched how to make them into who they had been in life – and he had come very close in terms of recreating the personalities of his resurrections,  but it still want the same.

Yes, the nidaime had succeeded at the part which he referred to as ‘summoning their soul’ – but without figuring how to restore the spirit and body along with the soul, the reincarnation would remain incomplete.

Yet Sakura had. At least, she thought she had figured it out. Being a medic, restoring the body wasn’t a problem for her – she could regrow tissue fairly easily, even brain tissue. The problem was in restoring the ‘spirit’, as the nidaime referred to the individual’s ability to produce energy. If she could somehow manage to reverse engineer the principle the Mokuton worked on… then she could apply it to the reincarnation jutsu.

Since the Mokuton could create true, living creatures out of nothing, even if it was in the form of plants, then, if Sakura managed to replicate it, she could return life to empty husks out of nothing.

It was for this reason that Sakura had worked to hard to convince Yamato to let her study his Mokuton. In truth, she hadn’t phrased it like that. She had simply lent a sympathetic ear while he was complaining about how his age was getting to him – and had offered to try to use her knowledge on chakra optimization to help him stay in the field for some time longer. Little did Yamato know that she had actually been studying how his Mokuton worked. It was a chance most scientists would have killed for. She had shared precious little of her findings with the man, but she’d feared that he might stop letting her research him if she were to tell him the things she was discovering.

Now, she finally had enough knowledge. Now, she finally understood what Orochimaru had done to awaken the Mokuton Yamato… and why Yamato’s Mokuton was incomplete.  And Sakura had realized all this.

There was an end within sight now. Perhaps in less than a year, she’d be done.

TWO years FOUR months Before YANAGI

Sakura sighed, running a hand through her hair as her secretary  trailed after her. 

“Red-sama… the men have lost some numbers in a recon squirmish over the emerging gun trade. Your presence is required by Inagawa-sama.”

Sakura felt stretched thin. Between her clan duties and her job as a sensei, and then her investigative work… it was a lot. At least she  would be done showing her TA the ropes at the Academy soon.  And as for her clan… once Tenten came back from her long term mission she could slip back into her role as Sakura’s representative within the clan…

But Tenten wouldn’t be back until she finished ironing out that arms trade deal. Fuck.

”Fucking guns!” Sakura snapped at nothing in particular. The corpse on the table stared back at her glazedly. “I’m an inventor and even I wouldn’t have come up with that shit!”

Sakura sighed and plopped back into her desk. A war would probably ensue soon, with the shifts the coming of guns so f cause in their society. If only she could be done with her experiment by then…

The falling of the leaves, the frosting of the great like, the thawing of the ice, the coming of spring. Time passed as she worked.

TWO years THREE months Before YANAGI

“Is it really true? You’re making progress?” Ino asked, her voice quiet. They’d reunited at Sakura’s place for once, after yet another failed date Ino had managed to con her into attending.

“Yeah,” Sakura said quietly. “I know you’re trying to be helpful, Pig, but I really don’t appreciate you tricking me into attending double dates now of all times. I’m… I’m almost there.”

The blonde bit her lip. “You… you really mean it?”

Sakura nodded. “Yeah. Soon, I’m gonna need your help with the first resurrection. Then we’ll see whether all of this was for nothing or not.”

“The–the first one?” Ino asked, her eyes impossibly wide. “I-is it going to be–?”

“No,” Sakura said quickly. “Not your dad.”

“But why–?”

Sakura sighed, meeting Ino’s moist eyes. “Look, it may go wrong, Ino. I don’t want you to have to live through that, if we did it with your dad. He wouldn’t deserve a life as a half-human, would he?”

Ino shook her head. “Then… who?”

“For the first experiment… I don’t want  it to be anyone innocent like your dad,” Sakura explained quickly, grasping Ino’s hands. The heartbroken expression on her face faded a little. “I want it to be Uchiha Itachi.”

Ino’s eyes widened. “Uchiha Itachi? Are you serious?”

Sakura nodded. “Sasuke is one of the main people I wanted to do this for – and Sasuke would want Itachi to be brought back before anyone else. He’s told me himself that he’d do anything to bring him back.”

“And you’ll… you’ll grant his wish,” Ino whispered.

Sakura nodded. “I will. I trust Kakashi’s judgment on Itachi… and if it can heal Sasuke, then…”

“Forehead.” Ino grasped her hand tightly. “You’re not… you’re not doing this because you’re still hung up over him, are you?”

Sakura flinched. “I’m not, Ino. You know I love Sasuke, but… I understand it would’ve gone nowhere.”

“But didn’t you date for a while? Aren’t you still–?” Ino asked, her eyebrows pinched.

Sakura shrugged. “Sasuke and I… are complicated. It’s true that I… slept with him…” Ino watched her silently. “But Ino,” Sakura said, sighing, “Sasuke is broken. He’s restless, he can’t stay in Konoha. Not in this village that took his parents. And I… I cannot leave. I still have my parents here, my whole life, my people. We’re too different.”

“But are you hoping, then…?” Ino asked softly.

Sakura sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Sasuke and I have agreed that if we both reach thirty without a partner, that we’ll get married and have a kid.”

Ino gasped. “Forehead – what?!”

Sakura scowled. “What? I want a kid, so does he. It’s mutually benefical.”

“But that’s so… I mean, Sasuke’s…” Ino frowned. “You know he wouldn’t be a good father, Forehead.”

“So? Neither would all those chunin you keep foisting off on me.”

Ino merely shook her head, not saying anything. 

Sakura sighed, turning to stare out of the window.

“Look, it doesn’t matter why I’m doing this. The point is – the massacre of the Uchiha was one of the bloodiest tragedies of Konoha history, and I intend to fix it starting with Itachi. Think about it, Ino. He’s the ideal first test subject. In a way, Itachi was a victim, but he was also nowhere near innocent. If something goes wrong with the experiment – if he turns out… defective, somehow…” Sakura trailed off, “If anything happens… then I won’t feel as guilty about making him suffer. He’s still a mass murderer who killed his clan.”

Ino nodded slowly. “So, then – when will you be ready to do it? Will you need my help?”

“I’m going to need a body, to start with,” Sakura said thoughtfully. “And someone there in case Itachi goes insane. My jutsu should allow those resurrected to keep their free will. That means, we will be at his mercy once he wakes up.”

Ino nodded. “I understand. I’ll get the usual drugs we incapacitate prisoners with.”

Sakura closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “Thank you, but don’t. I hesitate to use them on him while the technique is underway, since my approach to reincarnation is primarily reliant on medical ninjutsu. Drugs in the bloodstream could mess with the process.”

“What? But the edo tensei never…”

“This jutsu I’m developing  is not like Tobirama’s technique at all.”

“It – it isn’t?” Ino frowned. “I thought you said you…” she lowered her voice. “You stole his treatise on necromancy to get some references for your research.”

“I did,” Sakura admitted, just as quietly, “but I really couldn’t figure out what he meant when he said that he summons the person’s memories from the realm of the dead. I am capable of implementing his technique, but I still don’t understand how that part works. Not enough for it to make sense in terms of medical ninjutsu, anyway.”

“But then…?” Ino asked, trailing off.

“Simple,” Sakura said. “I’ll simply use Tobirama’s technique first – and you’ll translocate the impure reincarnations’ memories into the bodies of the pure reincarnations. I’ll be using their DNA in order to recreate each subject’s brain and DNA precisely – you’ll put the memories into the readily awaiting vessel.”

Ino blinked in shock. “That does sound like… a lot of work.”

Sakura nodded. “It will be. Are you up for it?”

The blonde nodded decisively. “You bet I am, Forehead.”

Sakura grinned back. “This has the additional benefit of allowing us to control what memories to let them keep for their new go at life… just in case we decide to resurrect anyone a little dangerous, like Obito.”

“Obito?” Ino protested. “That’s too much, Sakura! I don’t think Kakashi would want you to do that.”

“Ah… who knows…” Sakura trailed off. “Anyway, I will be needing Uchiha Itachi’s DNA. Naruto told me that he helped Sasuke bury him in one of the Uchiha properties up north, so I’ll need to figure out where – and then I’ll have to go dig him up.”

“Geeze… that’s so creepy,” Ino flinched a little. Hesitantly, she added: “Do you need me to go with you?”

Sakura frowned. “I’d… I wasn’t going to ask, but if you’re offering… it would probably be a better cover story than if I just left on a so-called holiday all on my own.” Sakura stared at her knees uneasily.

Ino nodded. Her eyes, still full of hesitation, took on a harder edge.

“Alright, Forehead. Then let’s do this. First up is getting Naruto to croak. Any ideas for that?”

TWO years TWO months Before YANAGI

As it turned out, getting Naruto to confess where he’d helped bury Itachi was harder than it seemed, but Sakura managed to convince him that he would need to improve his ability to defend against mental attacks if he wanted to be Hokage– and offered to ask Ino to tutor him as a favor. Naruto fell for their trap. It took three sessions for Ino to extract the information on where Itachi had been buried, with the future Hokage none-the wiser of what they’d done.

Then, it was just a matter of taking time off work and buying some shovels.

Digging up Uchiha Itachi was… strangely anticlimactic. Little was left of him but bones and worms crawling through moist earth. Sakura stuck his bones into a garbage bag and the bag into a scroll, and then they were off back to Konoha.

“Now, we just have to resurrect him…” Ino whispered.

Sakura glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “ Just is a bit of an understatement there, Ino.”

TWO years TWO months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month THREE weeks Before YANAGI

The old clock she’d pilfered from the Academy storage closet – so as to have one in her lab –  read three in the morning. Sakura glanced at it nervously, chewing on her lip.

“Remember when we were children?” Ino asked softly, laughing a little. “It’s strangely poetic. We used to think this was the hour of ghosts back then.”

Sakura nodded, turning away to eye the bag of bones on the table. “Well, we certainly never used any life bones to play Ouija back then.”

Ino laughed along. It came out somewhat forced.  “Well, we were kids then. We’re adults now.”

“That we are.” Sakura scratched her hair tiredly. “Witching’s hour… three a.m.. I only picked this time because it’s the time when almost everyone is asleep, but you’re right. It is… oddly fitting.”

“Oddly creepy, you mean.”

“Hm. If you say so.” She’d stayed up working on corpses so often that the impact of the night’s shadows on the lab hardly increased her fear response anymore. She supposed she could understand why Ino would think this was creepy, though. What they were doing… Ino gulped. It was messed up by anyone’s standards.

Ino came up behind her, leaning her chin on Sakura’s shoulder to glance at the body of the prisoner on the examination table, the one whose body Sakura had used as a baseline to recreate Uchiha Itachi, in the flesh. She’d done a good job with his DNA samples. The man sleeping calmly on the examination was the spitting image of Itachi, down to the girly eyelashes – though Sakura had kept his hair short, as it was a pain to take care of if long. Still, the nude male in front of them was undoubtedly, Uchiha Itachi. The only thing missing were the stress marks beneath his eyes – somehow, those hadn’t translated onto the development of this body.

Sakura had covered his modesty for the purposes of today, though his chest was still exposed, rising and falling slowly. The heart monitor to his right beeped calmly – a steady, healthy thrum. The monitor indicating his brainwaves wasn’t nearly so noisy. Currently, Itachi’s body was in a vegetative state.

Sakura’s eyes trailed over him one last time, resisting to do one last check on his genetic code, in favor of looking at the bag of bones on her research table. She shot a glance at Ino. Took a deep breath. She’d dragged Ino into this a while back, but if they took the next step…

“If… Ino-pig… if…” Sakura began. “If you want to back out…”

“No,” Ino whispered, turning to look at her. A blue, hot fire burned in her eyes. “No. Let’s do this, Forehead. We’ve come this far.”

Sakura nodded silently, her eyes trailing over the vegetative body slowly, one last time. He looked like Itachi. His genetic code was the same. She’d checked a million times. Sakura had used the bag of bones to extract his genetic code to recreate his body’s likeness down to a molecular level, down to his DNA… down to even his Sharingan. It was there, all the information, in his genes. Besides, she’d learned how the Sharingan worked from Kakashi, a long time ago. 

She’d used her genetic code sampling machines to double check that she’d done everything properly. It was a perfect match except for a particular gene sequence which she had ended up altering, as it was registered in her research database as a mutation that was almost certainly proven to be the cause of a degenerative disease. There’d be no point in bringing him back just so he died again.

Sakura turned away forcefully from the replica to eye the other corpse in the room – the one Ino had brought with her today – the one they’d be using as an initial sacrifice to summon Itachi’s impure, edo  tensei version. Sakura eyed their sacrificial lamb critically. Ino had said he was yet another messed up man – they were always rapists; Sakura supposed Ino had her reasons for hating rapists in particular… but she couldn’t help but think of Ino’s bone deep desire to get her father back. She wanted it  so badly… Sometimes Sakura wasn’t sure if the corpses Ino kept bringing her were so messed up, after all. She certainly managed to find a lot of rapists on a monthly basis. Sakura’s knuckles gritted.

No. Ino wouldn’t let her morals slip like that. There’s many twisted people in the world, and now isn’t the time to second guess this.

She forcefully straightened and relaxed her balled fists. After today… after today, she would know whether years’ worth of work had been wasted or not, whether all those rapists had died for science of just in vain.

“Alright.” Sakura gulped, her voice sounded hoarse. “Then, I’ll start prepping for the procedure… I guess.”

Ino nodded. “I’ll… I’ll check his restraints one last time.”

Sakura ignored Uchiha Itachi’s body in favor of the sacrifice. She placed her index finger on the man’s sweaty forehead. He was drugged, of course, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead uncomfortably. Sakura watched his features for a moment longer: the too-big nose, the fish-lips, the tanned skin. He didn’t look very handsome at all, but he was a murderer, and his days would end today.

One murderer for another, that’s the trade off…

“Ino, are you ready?”

Ino nodded.

Sakura returned the nod.

“You know what to do. I will use the regular edo tensei to summon him. You will need to extract his soul and place it into the vessel over there.” She pointed at the ready-made body of Itachi. “Can I count on you?” Sakura asked, scanning Ino’s eyes for uncertainty.

They were resolute. “I’ll do it, Forehead.”

“Good. The second the impure version materializes, start the memory transfer jutsu,” Sakura ordered sharply.

The blonde gave a curt nod.

Sakura closed her eyes and reviewed the steps of the impure world reincarnation one more time.

…to perform the edo tensei, one must execute the Snake, Boar, Ram, Rabbit, Dog, Rat, Bird, Horse, and Snake signs in order and conclude it by clapping one’s hands…

They’d need to use Tobirama’s technique to summon the soul – or Itachi’s memories and personality, the experiences that had forged him to be as he was… For that, only Tobirama’s technique would cut it. But, once Ino had transferred the soul onto the body Sakura had prepared… then she would need to use her extrapolated knowledge of the Mokuton to bring him back for good… the pure world resurrection.

Her palms were sweaty from nerves. Would it work?

Her hands moved slowly, almost clumsily, through the handsigns: a set of seals the nidaime had first moved through, so long ago.

“Impure world resurrection…” Sakura whispered into the musty air. “Edo tensei.”

She clapped her hands together once, sharp and short. The sound seemed to rebound on the walls of the lab. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the body of the sacrifice began to burn from the power of the lightning chakra the technique exuded. Lightning – the rawest form of energy, Sakura’s memory supplied. There was nothing quite like it. But a body could not tolerate that intensity of chakra for long. The reaction curve took a dip, earth chakra intermingling with fire. Before their eyes, the sacrifice was consumed with dust particles and flames, disolving into nothingness, reshaping into something else, taking the form of Uchiha Itachi.

This body was false, Sakura thought. Like a hengue or a shadow clone, it was a mere chakra construct, held only together by the jutsu matrix. It did not have Itachi’s DNA, like the version she’d prepared did, but somehow, inexplicably, it was imbued with his essence nonetheless; his soul.

The impure reanimationof Uchiha Itachi stared at them for a moment. As he was, with his black sclera and his cracked skin, Sakura controlled him with her will. It wouldn’t be until the pure world reincarnation that his actions would be his own.

“Do you wish to be reincarnated, Uchiha?” Ino blurted out out of nowhere.

“Ino!” Sakura flinched, turning to the blonde. It was too late. Uchiha Itachi had already heard the question.

He stood poised in front of them, looking not a day over twenty-one. Sakura gulped. It was strange to realize that he was now younger than her.

“No,” Uchiha Itachi said. “No. I’d rather remain in the pure lands.”

Sakura gulped, her stomach twisting uneasily. See… this is why she didn’t want Ino to open her big mouth. They had come this far, they couldn’t redo the whole experiment just because it suddenly didn’t suit Itachi. But now that they’d started talking about it, she couldn’t just ignore his refusal. It might lead to him lashing out once he was granted free will – if the experiment worked. If he was granted free will.

“Itachi…” Sakura said softly. “I have perfected the science of reincarnation. You will be as you once were.”

“I have no desire to live in a world so tarnished,” Itachi replied, closing his eyes. His voice was cultured, measured. A shiver ran down Sakura’s spine. Was it really such a good idea to bring this guy back? In a locked room with her and Ino?

Sakura stuck her hands into her haori. She had taken to wearing one of Tsunade’s old green haori as a way to remember the woman by when she was working in her lab. With her labcoat over the haori, the green cloth wasn’t really visible, but somehow, it felt like Tsunade was there with her somehow.

“I’m sorry, Itachi, but I frankly don’t care.” Itachi blinked slowly at her. “You’ve broken Sasuke beyond repair. No matter your good intentions for him, his needs take precedence over yours in my book.”

Itachi stared at her coldly. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime,” Sakura insisted, her tone matching his in kind. “Sasuke needs you here – alive. He needs closure. That’s all I’m asking of you. Let us perform this jutsu. Give him a chance to get proper closure, at least. With no lies between you. If you wish to commit suicide again after that, I will respect your decision. I will leave well enough alone. But… you owe your brother that much. Please, don’t fight me on this, Itachi.”

Itachi watched her through thoughtful, black eyes. Eyes Sakura had feared for a long time. Now, she met them steadily, though goosebumps rose in her arms and nape.

“I would only cause problems for my brother if I came back,” Itachi said. “He would be accused of hiding me from the rest of the village.”

Itachi’s words gave Sakura a measure of hope. He actually seemed to care about Sasuke’s wellbeing… Naruto hadn’t just interpreted things to suit his worldview of love trumping all. It seemed that Itachi truly did care about Sasuke.

“Your resurrection is only part of a larger plan, Itachi,” Sakura said quietly. “I intend on bringing back… a number of people. Your coming back would not cause problems – at least, no one would believe you had faked your death, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Itachi frowned. There was doubt in the tilt of his eyebrows. Sakura would’ve expected him to perhaps be afraid. He must’ve made the leap in logic that she was alluding to the rest of the Uchiha clan – or at least a part of them. He must know she was intending on bringing more of his family back, eventually. He must be scared of facing those he had killed, or perhaps hopeful of seeing those he had lost. Yet none of it showed in his deep, soulless black eyes.

“Have you brought anyone else back?” Itachi asked.

“You will be my first,” Sakura replied, surprised at how level her voice stayed. She was scared. Though her technique still controlled him, she did not feel in control. Every fibre of her body, of her shinobi instincts, they were all screaming at her that Itachi would attack her now – yet she kept her hands inside her sleeves, in a meditative pose, and watched Itachi, awaiting his answer.

Itachi frowned. “I see… so, I am your guinea pig, Sakura-san.”

Sakura inhaled sharply. He knew her name? Somehow, that was unsettling in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. Her interactions with him had always been minimal. She’d somehow felt safe from him. She’d known she was too irrelevant to even be a blip on his radar… yet that may have been the hopeful thinking of a teenager, in hindsight. She was Sasuke’s teammate, Sasori’s killer and the godaime’s apprentice, even then. Of course he must’ve at least known her name.

Sakura took in a sharp breath. “What do you know about me? And Ino?” She infused her voice with a note of command. If they resurrected this man, then there was a chance he’d attack. Before then, they’d do well to find out just how much he knew about them.

Compelled as he was by the edo tensei, Itachi began to speak, his fragmented, peeling lips, forming words Sakura would have never thought she’d hear. He began with Ino.

“You’re Yamanaka Ino. You are the clan heiress of the Yamanaka. You used to be Sasuke’s classmate… I imagine you can successfully perform the Yamanaka jutsu. You used to be in a team with Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Choji. Your teammate Shikamaru was responsible for the defeat of Hidan, though to my knowledge, you provided a minimal part in that.” He fell silent.

Behind her, Sakura felt Ino bristling, but she put a hand on her shoulder to silence her. “He’s probably trying to rile you up, don’t fall for it.”
Ino frowned, looking irritated, but nodded, her jaw gritted.

Sakura gulped as Itachi turned to regard her, his eyes as expressionless as ever. “You are Haruno Sakura,” he began slowly, as if collecting his thoughts. “Teammate to my little brother and Uzumaki Naruto, the pupil of Hatake Kakashi and Senju Tsunade. You are of civilian descent. Your final scores at the Academy heralded your future as a medic even then. Your parents are civilian: Haruno Kizashi and Haruno Mebuki, born Shindo. They are merchants of the upper middle class. Your grandparents own a hotel in Tanzaku Gai – The Seashore , worth almost fifty million ryo. You will inherit it upon their passing.”

Sakura’s chest began to tighten impossibly as Itachi’s lilting voice went on.

Ino’s eyes were growing wider, too, staring at her in shock. The question in them was evident – though Sakura didn’t want to confirm Itachi’s words right in front of him. How did he know all that? Forget being a blip on his radar, she had told no one any of these things. Not even Kakashi knew about the hotel. It was something that was rarely even brought up at home; not even their neighbors knew about it. So how could Itachi…?

Sakura’s hands were shaking inside her sleeves, but she forced herself to keep listening. All this knowledge he was revealing – he could use it against her. She needed to at least be able to brace herself for it.

Itachi kept talking for a long time. He knew about the forest of death, he knew about her training with Tsunade – not just the basic things everyone did, but facts so precise and obscure that Sakura’s stomach only got queasier and queasier. He knew every single project she had researched when she had been younger. Until his death, she imagined. He knew of her work on molecular tracers. He knew of her work on radioactive isotopes. He knew of her struggles to master Kakashi’s thousand jutsu. He knew her favored spot had been that one nook in the library – ‘conveniently isolated’ Itachi had said. ‘Optimal for an assassination… or a kidnapping.’ He knew of the work she’d done on nature chakra, and her failed attempt to become a sage when she was seventeen, right before the war. He knew of her other failed attempt – her attempt to kill Sasuke. He knew of the poison she’d smeared on the tip of her kunai and her intention to stab Sasuke, regardless of whether he stabbed her first. He knew she’d been prepared to go down with him. Sakura, to this day wasn’t sure whether anyone else had realized that… and yet somehow, Uchiha Itachi, who hadn’t even been there, knew all of that.

Sakura’s eyes were wide and horrified as the man continued to talk. He even knew of some things that had occurred during the fourth shinobi war, after his death. Finally, his torrent of words tapered off… and Sakura could only stare in silence.

“H-how…?” she asked in the end. And wasn’t that the million-ryo question?

“You were my brother’s teammate,” Itachi replied simply, as if that were the answer to everything.

Sakura shook her head to clear herself of the clouded, confused, horrified thoughts swirling through it. She had the upper hand here.

“I order you to tell me why you know about me in such detail,” Sakura said harshly. “Leave nothing out.”

There was a momentary something, a spark of anger, that flashed in his eyes. He clearly didn’t like to have to obey her like this. “I was ill,” he gritted out. “I considered kidnapping you to force you to heal me.”

Sakura stilled, horrified. “And? Why didn’t you.”

“It became unnecessary. Sasuke sought me out before I became terminal,” Itachi replied levelly.

“Had he not… sought you out when he did, you’d have kidnapped me?” Sakura asked uneasily.

“I intended for Sasuke to kill me,” Itachi replied stonily.

She supposed she should take that as his admission. Who knew? Sasuke had unwittingly saved her from Itachi’s claws. Sakura shook her head to clear it. “What would you have done with me?”

“Forced you to heal me. Then – I’m not sure. Either killed you, if you proved too much of a nuisance. Otherwise, I’d have let Sasuke rescue you.”

“You already had a plan in place, didn’t you?” Ino cut in accusingly. “A plan to kidnap Sakura?”

Itachi regarded them cooly. “I had plans for most occurrences.”

Sakura uneasily twisted a stray thread inside her sleeve. “Alright. And what will you do if I bring you back? Will you try to kill me or Ino? Or harm us? Answer honestly.”

Itachi paused thoughtfully. “I do not know.”

“Don’t you care about Sasuke?” Ino spat. “This would be your chance to make nice with your baby brother.”

Itachi’s lip curled. He turned away from Ino, as if she were an annoying fly, and back to face Sakura. “Haruno-san, I believe my answer hinges on your answer to a question of mine.”

Sakura tipped her chin at him. “Ask away.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Sakura tilted her head. Itachi’s sharingan had flared to life, the tomoe spinning eerily as he regarded her. “Why?” Sakura repeated. “For having stalked me so dedicatedly, you ask the most stupid questions, Itachi.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Illuminate me then, please.”

“It’s a gift.”

Itachi stared at her, something akin to disbelief flashing through his eyes. “A gift? A gift to whom? My brother?”

“Your brother, Naruto, Kakashi… my shishou… Ino, of course…” Sakura sighed, turning to stare at the night sky outside. “They’ve all lost so much, it has nearly – no, it has broken them. Since you spent so much time stalking us with your crows, I’m guessing you know about Kakashi’s constant visits to the graveyard, or shishou’s drinking problems, or Naruto’s…” she trailed off.

“Yes,” Itachi said. “I do know.”

“Then? Why ask?”

“Because it has nothing to do with you, Haruno Sakura.” Itachi stared her down. “Why devote – what I imagine must have been many years and much risk – to doing something no one expects of you? Arguably, something many wouldn’t even want you to?”

 “I just told you, it’s my gift to them,” Sakura repeated, removing her hand from her sleeve to scratch her head. “Bring Kakashi’s dad back to him… Kakashi’s mom… Naruto’s mom and dad… Sasuke’s… Tsunade-shishou’s little  brother, Nawaki… the Uchiha children which you unfairly killed… the Uzumaki which were massacred in the fall of Uzushio… none of them deserved to die. It’s been one tragedy after another. If I have the power to wipe the slate, why shouldn’t I?”

Itachi regarded her pensively for a long moment. He shook his head slowly. “Nothing good can come of playing with the dead. Things happen for a reason.”

Sakura was becoming desperate at this point. “Come on, Itachi. Don’t tell me you didn’t lose someone as well. Kakashi told me about how the Mangekyo works. You can’t be a psychopath like everyone claims, because if you were, you’d have never been able to unlock those eyes. Who died to give you that power?” Their eyes met, his, red as blood, hers, probably desperate.

“You would bring back anyone I asked?” said Itachi with censure. “Don’t you realize the foolishness of this endeavor? I killed my…” he cut himself off brusquely.

“Would you  do it again, then?” Sakura pressed. “Would  you kill them all again, if I brought them back?”

Itachi breathed in harshly – then out – then in again. “It was Obito’s manipulation that lead to the massacre… but if you brought them back as they were, upon their deaths, then yes. They’d organize a coup again and I’d have to step into the role of the executioner again.”

Sakura inhaled  sharply. “Wait – but – what if…” Her hands clenched into fists. “We can control how much of their memories a person regains. What if we brought back your parents when they were younger?”

Itachi shook his head. “My father was not fit to be a leader. He bent to the whims of our elders too easily. A true leader would not have let Obito manipulate him, no matter what. Should you bring back my father, you’d be inviting history to repeat itself.”

“Well – what if I brought back his father?” Sakura insisted. “He could be the clan head.”

“The Uchiha of old used to burn the ashes of our ancestors,” Itachi supplied. “It wasn’t until my father’s generation that the tradition was abolished… once we settled into our life here. You won’t find the necessary components to resurrect anyone before my parents’ time.”

Sakura frowned. “What about Madara? Obito resurrected him alright.”

Itachi inhaled sharply. “Uchiha Madara? Are you out of your mind? I learned of what happened from my crows… that man is…”

“What if I brought back Hashirama?” Sakura insisted. “Hashirama would be able to put Madara in his place, if he ever went insane again, and Madara would keep your clan from rebelling.”

“Haruno, you cannot be serious.”

Sakura crossed her arms. “Look, I was planning to bring back as many members of shishou’s family as I could anyway – why not Hashirama? If we had him around, we’d be safe from any wars until he died.”

Itachi inhaled shakily. “This… this is madness. And you’d bring back Uchiha Madara?”

“Well, why not? Naruto told me that he went mad from grief over his brother’s death,” Sakura  insisted. “What if we brought back his brother, too? Then, Madara would be as sane as the next guy… perfectly fit to act as a clan head your father would have no choice but to obey.”

Itachi stared at her silently for a long moment, while Ino glanced between them as if this were a tennis match.

“You’d have to bring him back as a young man,” Itachi said eventually. “He could not be allowed to remember the years after the death of his brother, when he went insane.”

“Like I said, that’s possible,” Sakura retorted.

“ And bring back his brother,” Itachi emphasized. “This is a man who never made it onto the history books. How would you even find his grave?”

Sakura arched an eyebrow at him. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

Itachi gripped the edge of the table he was standing next to – the one upon which the replica of his body Sakura had made lay immobile. He took a deep breath. “Who – who else would you be bringing back?” Itachi asked, a little shakily.

“Well, your parents, for one…” Sakura said carefully. “Uh… Uchiha Kagami, if I can manage it. I heard great things about him from shishou… anyone whose genes I can get my hands on that passes some basic background checks.”

“What about…” Itachi stared at her fixedly. “What about… Uchiha Shisui?”

“Uchiha Shisui?” Sakura repeated, eyeing him curiously. “I’d have to check who that was.”

“He… he would pass your background checks,” Itach said, his voice almost inaudible as he turned to look out of the window. “He attempted to single handedly stop the massacre. He had a heart of gold.”

His voice, though even, somehow carried a note of grief. Sakura understood suddenly that resurrecting this Shisui was the key to Itachi’s cooperation.

She turned to eye the man carefully. “If… I promised to resurrect this… Shisui…”

Itachi whipped around to look at her. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I would.”

Sakura smiled a little. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to ask for your cooperation with this whole thing, not just your word that you won’t kill us upon waking up.”

“You have it,” Itachi insisted.

“Are you sure?” asked Sakura. “You’d have to live in my lab for the foreseeable future… help me gather the DNA of all those I intend to resurrect…”

“I’m on board,” Itachi said. “I’ll do it.”

“And – would you swear to keep my secrets safe?” Sakura asked. “Would you allow me – or well, Ino – to put a secrecy seal on you for me?”

Itachi glanced over at Ino, who grinned awkwardly. “Your research failed to tell you that I’m the head of T&I, handsome,” the blonde remarked rather tartly.

Itachi glanced back at Sakura. “Yes. I agree.” He extended his hand.

Sakura stared at the chapped appendage for a moment before realizing his intent. Slowly, carefully, she extended her own hand. Itachi’s appendage was cold to the touch, like a corpse’s…

“I’ll hold you to that, Itachi-san,” Sakura said, adding a honorific of respect for the first time. They would be partners in crime from now on.

Itachi smiled, reserved, bellying hidden depths and dangers. “In that case… I will see you on the other side, Sakura.” He turned to nod at Ino, releasing her hand. “Yamanaka, you as well. I’m in both your care.”

Ino gulped nervously, then glanced at Sakura. Sakura gave her a nod.

“I’m ready when you are, Pig,” Sakura said, folding her fingers together.

“R-right…” Ino nervously brushed a stray lock behind her ear. “Here goes nothing…!”

“Hm… let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

TWO years ONE month THREE weeks Before YANAGI

Sakura took a deep breath, joining her fingers in the bird seal.

“Forehead, now ?” Ino asked, frowning at her.

“Let me be, Ino.”

“But you already know everything related to this procedure. Why waste chakra on recall now?”

Sakura shook her head, ignoring the blonde as she concentrated on her bird hand seal. This simple technique, consisting of a simple handsign, was the only clan jutsu Sakura had ever been taught.  She closed her eyes, the stray thought causing her brain to hyperfocus on  those memories of a distant time, when she had needed help so badly. When only Ino had been there. 

It had been Ino who had taught her how to use this jutsu, ignoring the very real consequences that happened to those stupid enough to share a secret clan technique with an outsider. Sakura was frankly the luckiest person alive to have survived that ordeal with her memories intact. Not only had she not been arrested for knowing something she definitely shouldn’t; she had been allowed to keep that jutsu – to keep using it.

Now, once more, she used the secret Zone technique and the world blurred around her. Images flashed in front of her eyes: statics, graphs, the nidaime’s scribbles, the worn parchment of The Scroll of the Dead… it was all there, the smell of the tea she had been drinking, the raspy quality of Ino’s voice when she was forced to bring her a corpse in the middle of the night, the rough surface on the table after she’d fallen asleep on it. It was all there, in her head, with perfect detail.

Sakura reopened her eyes. The old Academy clock’s hands had advanced twenty minutes.

“Are you calm now?” Ino asked, clicking her tongue.

“I was already calm,” Sakura countered.

“Let’s not pretend you didn’t already know all those details you just Recalled,” Ino said, crossing her arms. “It’s okay to be nervous, Forehead.”

Sakura cast a final glance at the body lying on the table. “Let’s just do this.”

…to perform the edo tensei, one must execute the Snake, Boar, Ram, Rabbit, Dog, Rat, Bird, Horse, and Snake signs in order and conclude it by clapping one’s hands…

Sakura inhaled deeply. Those were the handsigns for the regular edo tensei. But for her technique… she’d have to do something much more complicated. Her jutsu was triphasic. The body, soul and spirit needed to be awakened. The body and soul, they’d already taken care of. Ino had already placed Itachi’s soul inside of his body. Or well, the body she had modified to match his DNA. Now… now he just needed to… return to alive. She needed to light the fuse that would bring him back. To that end, she’d need to use the Mokuton.

“Did you bring what I asked you?” Sakura whispered.

“Of course,” Ino said, walking to her bag and retrieving a potted sunflower. “Here it is. I don’t know what you need it for, but…”

“Thanks,” Sakura muttered, taking the pot from her and gripping it tightly, in both hands. Her eyes slipped shut and she concentrated her chakra into the flowers. Just as she would when she tried to diagnose complex diseases in patients, she allowed her chakra to trail around the stem of the sun flower, into the leaves, observing it all, down to the proton pumps and its most basic inner workings.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Sakura whispered, her throat parched. Her cold and sweaty fingers began to slip into handsigns. If she had calculated this correctly, a reaction involving all five elements would be needed. She’d decided to start layering slowly, from least powerful to most. By her calculations, using lightning jutsu should eventually result in the complete resuscitation of Itachi.

Withdrawing a piece of chalk, she drew a large pentagon on the ground – one side for each element – and placed the DNA modified body of Itachi upon the center, the sunflower on his chest.  

“Forehead… What's that sunflower for? Won’t it make it harder to breathe?” Ino asked.

“No…” Sakura said vaguely. “And please stand back now, Ino. I intend to summon a large amount of lightning shortly.”

She’d modified some of the jutsu Kakashi had taught her over the years to suit her purposes now. An earth jutsu to extract minerals from soil and harden calcium. A water jutsu to increase the environmental humidity. A fire jutsu to increase the temperature without causing an actual fire. A wind jutsu to increase Oxygen saturation in the air. A lightning jutsu to restart a human heart.

“I’m starting now,'' Sakura announced, and then she plugged her earplugs in, sent a chakra probe into the sunflowers one last time… and began making the first set of handsigns.

The wet tiles beneath the body started to shake as her earth jutsu took hold. Sakura’s heart rate picked up; it was beating  in her ribcage. She could still sense the processes taking place inside the plant. All was good, she could adjust her output to match that of the plant. Another element. More handsigns. Water saturation began to increase. Her heart rate was only speeding up more. Now she needed to keep ahold of two elements simultaneously… and soon it was three as she added fire to the equation. And then she added wind.

This was when things began to go wrong. The neatly partitioned elements began to meld together, spinning around each other; increasingly more frantic, more frenzied, and she could no longer control them at all– 

–this wasn’t supposed to happen. Each element was supposed to stay in its designated quadrant inside the pentagon. She had to reel them back in,  had to control them, had to stop this frantic spinning–

–but the plant was already plugged into the jutsu, photosynthesis was being emulated to perfection, and, no–

–the energy of the reaction was increasing drastically, despite how she’d stopped channeling chakra into it. It should’ve slowed down, it should’ve stopped without her chakra, but instead it was only growing, like a behemoth beast, like it had a life of its own. Her skin was on fire, her heart was beating so fast she thought  she was on the verge of a heart attack, her sweat was building. There was a roaring sound in her ears, she could barely stay standing–

–then there was a flash of white. Just white flying in front of her eyes, white and nothing else. Her brain was working frantically to figure out what was happening, and… she remembered being hit by Sasuke’s Chidori. It had been the same kind of white. With a sickening twist in her stomach, she suddenly realized:

Lightning.

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month THREE weeks Before YANAGI

“What do you think happened?” Tsunade asked into the silence. Kakashi stared at the ceiling, avoiding her honey-coloured eyes.

She was sitting across from him, on the uncomfortable plastic chair. A clock ticked somewhere in the distance, the noise of the hospital buzzing in his ears. Kakashi wouldn’t normally set foot in here voluntarily. The only times he ever did, it was only because of Sakura. This was the first time he’d come here because she’d been injured, though.

“I don’t know,” Kakashi whispered. Her whole body had been… charred. As though a bolt of lightning had struck her. But… Sakura had learnt a long time ago how to conduce electricity over her body, so that didn’t really make sense. Not unless the surge of energy had been so great that it had completely saturated her system, but even then… he didn’t know what could have happened.

“I think it was that Uchiha. Sasuke,” Tsunade said.

Kakashi shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have let Sakura convince you,” Tsunade continued. “He’s unstable. He proved just how much when he tried to kill her. We should have dealt with him.”

Kakashi sighed, too tired to continue listening. Tsunade wasn’t normally this radical, but clearly Sakura’s condition had distressed her. Kakashi could emphasize. Even he was out for blood – or would be, once Sakura woke up – even if that meant he’d go after Sasuke. He’d already dispatched Naruto to haul him back immediately. Once Ino was done with him, they’d know if Sasuke had had anything to do with Sakura’s injuries or not.

Kakashi sighed, scratching his head. He remembered a time long gone by, when he and Sakura hadn’t been as close as they were now…

TWELVE years Before YANAGI

It was the fifteenth of September again, and he was particularly unlucky. He’d hoped the S-rank would’ve dragged on longer, but the target had been much easier to dispose of than anticipated, and thus he was back. Back in the village for his birthday, for the first time in so many years.

Well, he’d been back in Konoha since the late evening of the fourteenth, having spent his first six hours as a twenty-eight-year old man in the graveyard. He’d  left the memorial at sunrise before Gai could think to find him there to challenge him to a cake-eating contest or something. Procrastinating on reaching the empty space that was his flat, he for once went to the store to buy food – it was pointless to buy anything he liked since he’d have no one to share it with, so he picked out the usual – and then, after yet another long walk, could no longer put off going home. Once arrived at his flat, it was already seven in the morning and birdsong reached his ears just as his hands reached into his pocket. He pulled out the keys, ready to let himeslf into the empty flat and go to sleep for as long as possible, when he noticed the smell of a foreign presence. It was a smell he recognized immediately as his only female student’s, Sakura. 

He hadn’t talked to her in god knows how long, too chicken to approach after she’d switched teachers to Tsunade because he was clearly incompetent and unfit to be her sensei. For a heart-stopping moment, he feared his day would only get worse, his former student choosing today to final comfront him about all his mistakes, but when he opened the appartment door, filled with dread, the space was empty as it ever was. 

Thinking it through more clearly, he reflected, standing silently by the open door, Sakura’s fading smell indicated she had already left a while ago, but he had been too freaked out to think logically in his moment of panic. He sighed, a curiously empty feeling swelling in his chest like a balloon. He almost regretted that she wasn’t here to scold him after all. It had been… a while. It was selfish to wish he still had his cute little students, all of whom he had failed so miserably… but he did. Especially, he missed the little Sakura, even if it was an odd thought.

As Kakashi had started to worry about the girl, he may have dropped a couple of hints at Tsunade that Sakura would make a wonderful apprentice. All true, of course. He just maybe had the thought that it would be better if Sakura were a little more like Rin in other ways.

For all his appreciation of his only female student, Kakashi was well aware that he perhaps may not have shown it to her overmuch. Sure, he’d caved and ended up using her conditioner, he had often given her head pats when she pouted after Sasuke said something mean to her, he had absolutely fucking destroyed any enemy nin who so much as dared look at his precious student… and yes, he may have even summoned the pack for her …but he didn’t really know how else to talk to a girl that he had so little in common with.

Mostly, he stuck with the headpats and lazy ‘Maa… Sakura-chan’ s. 

The guilt that he was unable to be there for his only remaining student after the other two had left had been eating at him for the past two years – and was getting steadily worse. Despite how he had been the one to engineer the meeting between Tsunade and Sakura, the knowledge that Sakura had asked the other woman for training as per his plan was different than wishing it would happen. Her request to switch teachers was definite proof of what he’d already known: that his precious little Sakura-chan reviled him for being the god awful, no-good, useless excuse of a sensei and protector that he was. Had he been better, then maybe Sakura could’ve actually done something about Naruto and Sasuke’s fight on the rooftop that wasn’t jumping in front of two mortal blows. Had he been better, then maybe Sasuke wouldn’t have left. Had he been better, then he wouldn’t have had to pick up Naruto’s crumpled form from the muddy ground in the valley of the end.

Yes, Kakashi was an awful teacher, and as he stood at the door of his empty apartment on that fifteenth September of his twenty-eighth birthday, he thought to himself that he would’ve deserved whatever hateful words Sakura had meant to spit at him before she’d left. He sighed, stepping into his flat woodenly, the very topic he’d been trying so hard to avoid via his shopping trip and the night-long graveyard visit hitting him in the face like a frying pan, no thanks to Sakura’s lingering scent outside the door.

What had she wanted to reproach him for, he wondered. Should he seek her out and put himself through the torture of listening to her hate-filled words? He deserved it, but he was too cowardly to go after her. He, the jonin, scared of a… what was it? – fifteen year old? – girl. Yes, fifteen already. Her birthday was in spring, when her namesakes bloomed. He feared often enough that like Rin’s, Sakura’s name was far too accurate and she’d live fast and intensely; that she’d die and fade much too soon just like the cherry blossoms did, yielding to the caress of the wind after a mere week of splendor. Hopefully this Sakura be a good enough medic thanks to Tsunade’s training so as to escape that fate.  

He paused in his trail of thought, noticing that he had stepped on some sort of paper. There had been a second of quiet horror when he’d wondered if it was an exploding tag he’d stepped on, but after glancing down, he saw it was just some random flyer. Some annoying mailman must’ve slipped the thing through the crack of the door. He picked it up, irritated, and walked to the kitchen with every intention of tossing the thing (now complete with his muddy footprint on it) into the trash… but just as he was about to drop the flyer in alongside his pile of old cheese and rotten fruit, he stopped short, noticing that there was some kind of handwriting beneath his muddy footprint… it wasn’t a flyer at all, but a note!

He squinted at it, wondering who had been stupid enough to slip him a message under his door rather than pin it against the windo–

Wait. Who had just been by less than half an hour ago?

Holly shit. He was an idiot. Sakura!

Now panicked he’d apparently managed to step on (and ruin) some sort of message from Sakura, he dropped his shopping backs unceremoniously onto the kitchen floor and rushed to the bathroom and fetch his blow drier (yes, he owned a neon pink one, certain female students may be responsible for that) to try and salvage Sakura’s note.

After a moment of frantic blow drying and some careful earth and water jutsu application to separate the mud particles, he managed to render the note passably clean, even if a faint imprint of his stupid foot could still be seen. 

The hell is this? Kakashi thought as he scanned the now visible piece of paper.

TWELVE years Before YANAGI

TWELVE years Before YANAGI

Kakashi found himself staring a drawing that looked like some sort of parody of… Icha Icha. Sakura had always been the most vocal in finding his reading tendencies repulsive, so it made sense she’d want to mock them, but… wasn’t this a little too much effort?

The drawing featured two women pulling a man in opposite directions – a rather Icha Icha-ish cover art, if he did say so himself. More: he tentatively recognized the one on the right as Junko (Icha Icha’s main heroine), which indicated a level of knowledge about the series he wasn’t too sure didn’t make him uncomfortable… and even the male character in the middle looked like a stick figure version of Kazemaru… although the last stick figure on the left was a mystery.

Kakashi hesitantly opened the little booklet (because yes, this was a stapled-together honest to god booklet ) and attempted to figure out what in the hell was going on with his student and Icha Icha.

The note in the back of the cover explained it.

Dear Kaka-sensei,

I know you don’t have much time to be in the village, so I won’t even attempt to meet with you (you hospital-avoiding fiend!) but I did want to leave you a surprise waiting at home for when you get back. Shishou says you’re working way too much, and I wanted to remind you that taking time off is also important, even if it’s to read your stupid books!

Seeing as I’m awesome, and I felt extra-bad that I didn’t get you anything last year, I wanted to get something nice to make up for it this time… My blow-drier gift from two years ago (which I suspect sees no use given the state of your bird’s nest) was clearly a miss, so I decided to play it safe this year and get you something you’ll  like for sure (even if I still think that the blow drier was a great gift and you’re stupid for neglecting it!).

But anyway! I know you told us in your intro that you have ‘lots of hobbies’ but so far it’s looking like that list is rather short. And by rather short I mean you only like your stupid pervy books. But to each their own. I figured I’d get you something to do with that, but then I thought that you probably have your house stuffed with every Icha Icha book to ever exist, so I instead… I decided to make you one myself! (Without the porn, mind. Unlike you, I am not a pervert.)

To give you an idea of how much blood, sweat and tears went into this, I had to sludge through the entire series just to figure out how to fake-continue it, and Icha Icha is pretty long even skipping the pervy scenes, so you better like this gift, you weirdo, pervy sensei!

Happy birthday!!!

-Sakura

Sakura… read… the entire Icha Icha series? 

Kakashi groaned, then re-read her front note, halfparts torn between wonder that she didn’t hate him and exasperation – at himself, for being such a bad teacher that the only thing she’d picked up was the Icha Icha of all things. Despite his typical self-flagelating thoughts, a smile still made its way to his lips.

The sheer effort that girl had put into this… yes, there was one more quality to Sakura, and that was that she would go above and beyond about those she cared about in terms of effort. And apparently, somehow, impossibly, her awful pervy sensei was still on that list.

Kakashi glanced at the cover for the fake Icha Icha again. It was no art work, that was for sure, but he decided then and there that he loved it more dearly than he did any of his actual books.

Of course, she’d picked red for a background colour. It wouldn’t be Sakura if she hadn’t. The title was written in Sakura’s hadnwirtting, boldly announcing this pamflet to be ‘Icha Icha: Romance and Rivalry’. He nearly rolled his eyes again because that was such a Sakura thing to pick for a title. Melodramatic, passionate and just a touch ridiculous.

He flipped to the first page and was surprised to find an entire notebook page cramped to the brim with her careful handwriting. He had been expecting some sort of comic, not an actual handwriting. Flipping through the booklet, this actually had about fifty pages… that was… a staggering amount. Yes, Sakura had always been the one who went on and on in her mission reports (he may or may not have developed the habit of foisting them off on her since the early days), but this amount of pages surprised him.

Quirking an eyebrow, he began to read, not even noticing that he was still awkwardly leaning against his toilet, hairblower propped against his knee, from where he’d been just a moment ago. 

He had always thought, as its most ardent fan, that Icha Icha was more a fantasy-intrigue novel featuring copious amounts of sex rather than porn with a fantasy wrapping, but no one seemed to share that opinion, calling him a pervert and a what have you. He should’ve known that Sakura would be a kindred spirit.   Clearly, he thought, his most romance-inclined student knew how to appreciate good literature.

In the last official instalment of the real Icha Icha, the Paradise volume, Junko and Kazemaru had finally confessed their feelings to each other and it was even looking like Junko may finally be able to reclaim the crown for her kingdom. Realistically, that was the only part left: Junko being an orphan who only discovered, as the plot progressed, that she was actually the long-lost princess with a claim to the throne. She spent the whole series trying to prove her heritage and undergoing trials to this end (as well as getting embroiled with various male characters, of course).

Paradise was the volume that described Junko’s hardest trial yet – getting trapped in an illusion of peace, working a job as a glorified court servant at the neighbouring kingdom in exchange for a life free of danger… an offer so tempting someone who had spent their life embroiled in war and assassination plots wouldn’t be able to turn down m. At the end of Paradise, however, Junko had discovered Kazemaru being tortured in the supposedly benevolent king’s dungeon and had proceeded to tell the fake illusion of piece to shove it, choosing instead to help the series’ main love interest escape his torture.

To make a long story short, Paradise had been everything a long-standing fan of the series like Kakashi had ever wanted, with Junko finally coming to terms with the fact that she deserved to claim her crown and that she loved Kazemaru. Still, reading it had left a bitter-sweet taste in Kakashi’s  mouth… It definitely looked like Icha Icha was coming to an end, and if that wasn’t something that needed to be mourned, then he didn’t know what was. (Well… he did, he was the expert in mourning, actually, but that was besides the point). The point was that the ending of Paradise would be a hard place to continue the story for Sakura, considering the story was almost done, all the plot lines unravelled…

He soon discovered, however, that his student had managed to keep up the suspense to her little fan-fiction just fine. 

Clearly, this meta-version of Icha Icha was all heavily inspired in Sakura’s own life, if the frequent descriptions of the newly introduced Tsubaki villain as being a ‘woman with a pig-like likeness who made judicious use of  beauty-enhancing spells to conceal her true appearance from her admiring sycophants’.

Icha Icha’s new main villain, Kakshi soon discovered, with great amusement, was a very strange blend between Orochimaru and Yamanaka Ino of all people. No, he wasn’t kidding. Yes, Sakura somehow made it work.

He did have to give credit where credit was due, though. Despite the inherent hilarity to some more juvenile parts, the overarching narrative was quite good, revealing a more mature side to Sakura he didn’t remember of her.

The first page started off with a bang by showing how a document revealing the lost princess’ identity was found by the court notary, the long lost princess being Junko, of course. Kakashi had still thought there Sakura was going to go the boring, happy ending route at that point. Ah, he’d been so naive… As it soon turned out, the court notary had been bribed to lie about the discovery of the lost princess, destroying the original document and replacing it with one that claimed  some other woman was the last surviving child.

Clearly, the vile female had cooked up to snatch Junko’s crown away through trickery and cunning. Naturally, Junko proceeded to be both outraged and horrified at this turn of events  for a few pages as she went about trying to figure out who this imposter claiming to have a right to her crown was. Soon, it turned out that the enemy in question was a talented if vile court sorceress named Tsubaki – a repugnant woman who had a personal grudge against her over her love for Kazemaru. Tsubaki had even gone as far as to spread lies about Junko to make the entire cast turn against her, including Kazemaru himself.

Since Junko’s way of coping with drama was to beat up people, that’s what proceeded to happen. Then, after defeating some interesting… foes (one of which was a loyal court soldier which reminded Kakashi suspiciously of himself), Junko managed to infiltrate the fake queen’s coronation. 

In this poignant scene, it was revealed that Tsubaki (aka the ursurper), was not only after Junko’s crown but also after her man, and that the conniving little snake intended to use any trick in the book to get Kazemaru all to herself. Junko being Junko wasn’t about to take this sitting down and set off on an epic training montage to improve her skills in order to defeat Tsubaki and the entire forces of her kingdom, now at the enemy’s beck and call (the training montague taking place under a teacher that suspiciously reminded him of Tsunade – which was funny, because Junko as Jiraiya had written her clearly was Tsunade).

Most excitingly yet was that the story ended in a cliffhanguer. His precious little student had dared gift him this… and then take away a satisfying end!

Yes. Sakura had had the utter nerve to make this her last sentence in the book:

‘–and so there he stood, the Shogun of the North, his pale, dark face slack-jawed and glassy-eyed because of… what Junko only then realized with a sinking feeling, was not actually a carton of bad milk for breakfast, but rather… Tsubaki’s mind control technique – her kingdom was in peril.’

And then Sakura followed that particular bomb up by a smiley drawing and this :

‘Te-he! I hope you liked this, Kaka-sensei! If so, maybe if you behave and go to the hospital for a checkup, I’ll tell you what happens next!’

Devastating. How could she?

Alright. To be perfelctly honest, the quality of the writing was inferior to Jiraiya’s work (the man being a seasoned author and Sakura a fifteen-yar-old novice) but still, Kakashi was impressed. The fresh take on the characters he loved so much, the added worldbuilding, and even the introduction of that unexpected thorn in Junko’s side… he had barely realized time passing him by as he devoured the whole thing.

The last couple of pages were his favorite. It was a complete rollercoaster of twists and turns, highs and lows detailing Junko’s fight against the northern kingdom’s henchmen in the Foreboding Forest, followed by her showdown against Tsubaki – all of which were oddly reminiscent of Sakura’s own chunin exams. The ending especially, when it suddenly turned out Tsubaki had been mind controlling the shogun from the neighbouring nation (the one who had tortured Kazemaru in Paradise) all along – that she’d  only been   pretending to be a weak foe, power-wise, so as to lull Junko (and Kakashi) into a false sense of security…! Well. Let’s just say that the whole mind-controlled military-leader preparing an invasion certainly struck a chord with him (and probably anyone who had lived through the Suna-Oto invasion). Kakashi seriously couldn’t believe the cliffhanger was this bad.

Would Icha-Icha-Orochimaru die in this fiction? (He still couldn’t believe such a thing as Icha-Icha-Orochimaru even existed, but that was clearly the case here). If there was an Orochimaru in Sakura’s fanfic, then did that mean that an Icha Icha-equivalent of the sandaime would kill him… or would it be Junko? He actually wanted to know as a reader, not just as an incredibly touched sensei. The magnitude of this gift… the effort… he was pretty sure no one had ever done anything like this for him before. 

Kakashi stood to his feet, huffing fondly as he placed the blowdrier back in its spot under the sink, realizing only then that he had a crick in his back for leaning against the toilet seat for so long.

He was going to have to get his hands on a printer and make at least ten exact renditions of Icha Icha Romance and Rivalry and then hide them strategically in different places so that it could never get lost.

TWELVE years Before YANAGI

Kakashi would never forget that birthday gift, when Sakura had written a book just for him.

Her note had said to visit the hospital as payment for her gift, so he had ended up going for a checkup the next day, much the the whole staff’s bafflement. They’d kept him waiting for a while, various nurses coming out of their staff room to peek at him curiously. Half an hour later, Tsunade herself had shown up with her apprentice in tow.

“Well – what’s the emergency, Hatake?” she’d barked, flying over the hallway briskly.

Kakashi had just stared at her owlishly, unsure what to say.

Tsunade had made an irritable nose. “Follow,” she’d  commanded, disappearing into an empty hospital room. He’d been forced to sit on some sort of cot while the woman did a whole-body chakra scan – and Sakura hovered in the background uncomfortably. Clearly, she knew nothing was wrong with Kakashi, but everyone else seemed to have concluded that there was an emergency.

Tsunade frowned at him after a good ten minutes of scanning him.

“I don’t get it. Fess up, brat, what’s the matter? I can’t find anything wrong with you.”

Kakashi shrugged akwardly. “I just came for a check-up?” he said, though it came out sounding more like a question.

“Without any reason to?” Tsunade asked him with narrowed eyes.

“I asked him to, shishou,” Sakura said shyly.

Tsunade rounded on Sakura. “Are you saying that I was called here from an urgent meeting without any fucking reason?”

Sakura looked at her awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were in a meeting, shishou.”

“And you only thought to tell me now?” Tsunade went on, talking over Sakura.

“I-I’m sorry–”

“Bloody apprentices and their information withholding ways,” Tsunade muttered angrily. “You examine the brat then. I have to get back to my meeting!”

And with that, the whirlwind of a woman had swept out of the room, leaving him alone with Sakura. Kakashi had meant to say thank you for the gift, or ask about how she was doing, or well, something, but in the end, somehow, he failed miserably, and Sakura just ended up giving him a checkup without either of them saying a word.

Something had changed that day, though. If Sakura had been his favorite before, it couldn’t compare with what she was afterwards. There were no lengths he wouldn’t go to for her, and that included executing Sasuke, if it turned out that he had been the one to have hurt her.

Kakashi glanced back at Tsunade, still sitting on that uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Let’s see what she says when she wakes up,” he told her quietly.

He knew Sakura fairly well, and therefore he knew of her tendency to keep secrets. At age twelve, they’d been fairly simple secrets – for Sakura’s standards, anyway – secrets such as ‘I’m starving myself’. At age fifteen, she’d graduated to ‘I haven’t told anyone I’ve placed the Byakugo on myself, including Tsunade.’ (Yes, Kakashi had only found out after the fact that apparently the growing star on Sakura’s forehead was not something Tsunade had known about.) At age eighteen, Sakura’s secrets had graduated to ‘creating a biohazard that could and did take out ten thousand people in half a year’.

At age twenty-six… well, Kakashi did not know what Sakura’s secrets may look like now, but he was willing to not jump to conclusions about it. Frankly, he considered the possibility that Sasuke had hurt her rather small.

But, he supposed, we shall see…

TWO years ONE month THREE weeks Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

YANAGI

Kakashi resisted the urge to rub his temples. He coughed awkwardly. “Ah, sensei, Kushina-san, meet your son. Naruto, your parents don’t remember the war, so you might want to slow down a bit.”

Minato and Kushina both looked gobsmacked, while Naruto seemed heartbroken that they didn’t remember him.

“Kid, they’re alive,” said Jiraiya from next to him. “You’ve got all the time in the world.”

Kakashi chanced a glance at the sannin then. He weakly lifted a hand in greeting.

“Yo,” he managed.

Jiraiya’s lips spread into a smile and he stepped forward, giving him a one-armed hug. Kakashi didn’t remember being close enough with the man to receive such casual affection from him, but he supposed one didn’t get resurrected every day.

Because that was what had happened, right? Somehow, impossibly, it seemed as if the… Pain incident had repeat itself.

Kakashi weakly gave Jiraiya a pat on the shoulder. His mind was swimming, his heart beating so loudly in his ears that he barely even registered Jiraiya asking about Tsunade. Right. He must be wondering at her absence, he probably wanted to know if she’d survived the war.

“She’s fine,” Kakashi managed. “Retired, but fine. She’ll have a conniption when she sees you.”

Jiraiya’s expression brightened and he looked vaguely dazed for a moment. Kakashi awkwardly released him and stumbled off by himself.

“A-are you K-kakashi-kun? Um… it’s you, right?“

No. This was... impossible. Rin?

Kakashi turned around slowly, unsure whether to be horrified or happy at the sight before him. How even? This makes no sense, his mind thought frantically. They all died at different times. What on earth?

“Uh… hi Rin,” he managed roughly. “Yes, that’s me.”

She must’ve heard Minato talking to him earlier… this was… Kakashi stared at the fourteen year old girl peering up at him, unsure of what to say. He’d forgotten little details about what she looked like. The feature he’d remembered best had always been her chest… her chest with a hole in it.

On that topic… most of the revived had had the thought to use hengue to appear dressed by now, which included Rin, so at least the meeting wasn’t as horribly awkward as it could have been. Though a part of him would’ve liked to see the unmarred chest with his own eyes. Was she really… alive? How?

He suddenly felt the weight of a hand land on his shoulder. From her chakra, he knew it to be Sakura’s without looking. He didn’t – look, that is. He couldn’t stop staring at Rin, though his faculties seemed to have left him, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Blessedly, Sakura took over.

“Here, would you like some water? Your name is Rin, right?”

“Oh, yes, please! I’m parched!” Rin accepted Sakura’s canteen gratefully and started to chug it down while Sakura just smiled at her and started asking some good-natured questions.

Kakashi listened to them talking distantly, though he felt more like a bystander in a strange dream.

How is this happening?  

He understood nothing anymore. Wait… if Rin was back… He looked around frantically, unsure of whether he even wanted to–

“He’s not here.”

Sakura’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “Wh-wha–?” Kakashi managed.

“He’s not amongst them,” Sakura said. “Obito. I already checked.”

Kakashi deflated. “Ah.”

“O-Obito-kun?” Rin asked with a furrow of her eyebrows, lowering the canteen to stare at Kakashi questioningly. She looked lost. Kakashi’s heart broke a little at that question. He didn’t even know what to feel anymore. He was just emotionally spent at this point.

“Um, Kakashi?”

Kakashi was relieved it was Sakura who had addressed him and not some other ghost from his past.

“I think I can see your father over there,” she said hesitantly.

Kakashi stared at her in pure shock. Well, so much for that.

He turned his head in the direction she’d pointed at. And yes, there he stood – Hatake Sakumo – amidst a crowd of white haired people. Wait… were they all Hatake?

Sakumo was already looking in his direction, his brows furrowed in confusion. Good. So he hadn’t figured it out yet.  Kakashi sighed in relief. So he could put  it off then.

He’d rather take these… revelations one at a time. He needed some time.

“Are you the leader of this… gathering?”

Kakashi whipped around to find an assortment of Senju and Uchiha surrounding him – and was that Uzumaki Mito? He sucked in a calming breath and gave a nod.

“I am.”

“Explain,” demanded the nidaime tersely.

He could feel various Sharingan flashing in his periphery, but he deliberately didn’t look in their direction.

“I gather we have all been resurrected under nebulous circumstances,” a new voice said. Kakashi looked over in shock. Hyuga Neji!

“And who are you?” sneered an Uchiha.

“I am Hyuga Neji,” Neji replied tersely, brushing past the Uchiha as if he found himself in this situation every day. “Kakashi-san, would it be alright if I reunited with everyone?”

“Er, go ahead,” Kakashi managed. Neji nodded and walked past him to greet the Konoha crowd.

“We just asked you a question, Kakashi,” Madara Uchiha snapped impatiently.

Kakashi hoped the shiver that had caused had been obvious. “Ma… it’s a bit of a tough question to answer,” he hedged. “Perhaps you would help me along by answering  a question of my own…”

Now, looking more closely, he couldn’t help but notice that they all looked much younger than when he’d seen them at the war.

“What?” asked Hashirama. “What is it you wish to know? You, who resurrected our loved ones, you who–?”

“I had no part in this,” Kakashi cut the Shodai off quickly. “In fact, I am just as surprised about this as you are. The… the thing is… for me, and everyone else here… you… you are known as the Uchiha and the Senju of old. Your deaths were long before our time.”

This set off a chain of mutters amongst the resurrected men and women in question.

“So – what is it you want to know?” asked the Sasuke look-alike.

“I would appreciate if you could tell me what… ah, the last thing you remember is,” Kakashi said weakly.  

“The last thing I remember?” the Sasuke-like Uchiha mumbled. “Hm. I’m not even sure. What about you, aniki?”

Madara rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It was such a human gesture that it gave Kakashi whiplash.

“I think I was at the falconry, feeding Yuki.”

Haah?

Alright. He’d officially gone insane.

Kakashi blankly turned towards the Senju.

“My wedding night!” beamed Hashirama-shodai – earning a smack from his wife.

The nidaime shot his brother a look of contempt before focusing his unsettling attention on Kakashi.

“I assume you are more interested in things to clue you in as to the time period we come from?” he asked. “If we are a part of your past, as you claim.”

“You assume right,” Kakashi said. Finally, someone who could actually be helpful.

“The year is five hundred after the founding, for us,” Hashirama supplied.

Right, see, that right there was exactly what  he need– wait. Five hundred after the founding?

“Uh… come again?”

Tobirama and Hashirama looked at him blankly for a moment.

Hashirama frowned at him. “Well, what year is it for you, then?”

“Er. Eighty three after the founding.”

The brunette boy next to Tobirama stared at him oddly. “What, so these guys are prehistoric?”

“Uh, no.” You’re prehistoric.

“What founding are you talking about, then?” Tobirama inquired. “Do the Hatake also measure time starting with the founding of the Senju clan? You are a Hatake, are you not?”

“Ah, yes,” Kakashi said quickly, breathing in relief. “But I didn’t mean the founding of the Senju clan. I meant the founding of Konoha.”

“Konoha?” repeated Hashirama with a baffled expression.

“Konoha? Did you say Konoha?” Madara chose that moment to butt in, apparently having listened to their exchange.

Kakashi, still uncomfortable, pinned his gaze to the  man’s chest. “Yes, Konoha.”

At this, Madara and Hashirama stared at each other, some mysterious exchange passing between them… though Kakashi supposed it wasn’t that mysterious, given what he knew.

“Aniki, what is it?” pressed the Sasuke clone. “What did you figure out?”

Madara’s voice sounded raw with disbelief. “I just… I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it until I see proof.”

“Believe what, aniki?”

“Yes, anija, you better fess up about this,” the brunette boy was meanwhile saying to h Hashirama. “What is this leaf business the Uchiha keep harping on about?”

Tobirama was oddly silent, merely patting the head of the youngest Senju boy that had been hiding behind Tovirama’s leg the whole time.

Kakashi internally sighed. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month THREE weeks Before YANAGI

A warm hand was caressing her forehead. She recognized a smell: pleasant, comforting… a memory of when she’d been younger.

She buried her forehead into the hand, releasing a sigh. She was so, so tired.

“I know you’re awake, brat.”

Sakura sighed and twisted away in the bed. “Can’t the mission report wait…?” she slurred.

Drowsily, Sakura twisted away from the voice and the light beaming against her eyelids and slipped back into a doze. She almost dead to the world again, when it occurred to her. Wait a minute… shishou? But… but Tsunade had left on a trip after Kakashi’s ascension. What the–?

Her eyes shot wide open and she bolted up in bed. She’d been right. Tsunade sat on the bed next to her, not even having bothered with a chair, her red nails as shiny and polished as ever.

Sakura gaped at her for a moment, then her lips split  into a jubilant grin. “Shishou! You’re  here!”

Tsunade snorted, accepting Sakura’s hug-tackle in good fun. They hugged for a minute or two before the woman finally pushed her away and back into the bed. A hospital bed.

“What… what happened?” Sakura asked, staring down at herself for the first time. No injuries that she could see, but then again, Tsunade was sitting next to her, so she must’ve been injured before. Seriously… how did she get so injured that she needed to be admitted to the hospital? She hadn’t even needed to go after her fight against Sasori, or even the fourth shinobi war. She was always the one people went to. She could never allow herself the weakness of being treated. She needed to be there to treat others.

“What happened? That’s what I’d like to know,” Tsunade replied crossly.

Just then, a mop of gray poked his head through the door and she smiled, recognizing Kakashi. “Ah, you’re awake," he said, giving her an eye-crinkle smile that for once looked a little forced.

Kakashi was, as ever, more awkward than Tsunade, but Sakura beaconed him closer to her so she  could give him a hug. He was somewhat less stiff when she hugged him now than he'd used to be, but as ever, he seemed to be in a hurry to let go, as if his being caught hugging anyone were the height of embarrassment. Finally, she released him from his suffering and Kakashi perched on a chair at the edge of the bed.

“I’d like to know what happened too,” he said, staring at Sakura pointedly.

At this point, Sakura had more or less recalled… things. The experiment, that bright light. She assumed the resurrection must have gone wrong. She’d miscalculated somewhere. She’d thought she could control the energy of the reaction, bend it to her will… but it had bent her into pieces instead, wringing her out like a dirty little towel. 

“I…” she said softly. Should she confess? Tell them what she’d  been up to? They both loved her. They’d understand she hadn’t wanted to improve the edo tensei for malicious reasons. But… if she told them… they’d made sure she never set foot in a lab unsupervised again. “I can’t remember,” Sakura said, looking down at her lap.

“You can’t remember?” Tsunade repeated, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “I think  you do.”

“I don’t,” Sakura said stubbornly, glancing up from her lap to stare at her defiantly.

“Oh, I think you do.” Tsunade’s voice had acquired a harder edge. “You know what your injuries were, Sakura? Do you want me to tell you?”

Sakura nodded mutely.

“Your entire nervous system – fried. Your cardiac tissue – fried. The inmates executed with the chair have less damage than you did when I got to you.”

“Oh,” was all Sakura could say to that. Frankly, she’d already been expecting that. She hadn’t imagined the raw energy that had coursed through her. It had been one of a kind. Not even Kakashi’s strongest Chidori could come close to that discharge, she knew that much. She could handle more electricity than most normal people, as she could usually direct it through her body to avoid it piercing her in lethal areas. This time, however… it had been too much.

“Sakura,” Kakashi said quietly. “I understand if you’re… trying to protect someone. But… what was done to you is… inexcusable.”

“Protect someone?” Sakura echoed.

He couldn’t be…?

“It was the Uchiha, wasn’t it?” Tsunade asked, her mouth curled. “Never understood what you see in the brat.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. They thought Sasuke had done it?

“It wasn’t Sasuke!” she snapped, sitting up straighter in bed. 

“Then who?” Tsunade asked with an eye roll. “There are only three people in this village who could release a discharge like that, and two of them are sitting in this room, talking to you.”

“Sasuke isn’t even in town! Why would you say it’s him?” Sakura demanded.

“Sasuke is the king of sneaking around. We’ll see what he has to say for himself after Naruto finds him,” Tsunade replied impassively.

Sakura looked at Kakashi for help, who merely shrugged. “If he did this, I want to know,” he muttered quietly.

Sakura sighed and nodded. Well, Sasuke would have an alibi, and then they’d just have to believe her. She got up from the bed and stretched a little. Sakura had been hospital director for one year after the war, so the chances of anyone trying to tell her what to do here were slim to none.

“I’m going home, if you don’t mind," she said simply.

Tsunade eyed her suspiciously from her spot on the bed. She at least didn't try to fight Sakura on this point, but she seemed rather put out by her statement regardless. “Well, I’m staying at your place, brat. I didn’t get around to booking anything since Kakashi called me here so suddenly.”

Sakura nodded, giving her shishou a weak smile. “Of course. And thank you for coming to heal me, shishou.”

Tsunade rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘stupid brat’. Sakura just smiled tiredly and stood.

TWO years ONE month TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Tsunade had been staying with her for a week when Sakura finally managed to sneak off to her private lab. Ino had apparently been the one who’d brought her to the hospital, and being the head of T&I – and Sakura’s best friend – no one had made anything but half-hearted attempts to interrogate her about what had happened or where she’d been found, even Kakashi. They all knew Ino wouldn’t reveal Sakura’s secrets.

Sakura was relieved. She’d avoided the blonde the last couple of days – well aware that Kakashi might have sent one of his ANBU to spy on them and try to figure out who had hurt her. If she and Ino talked with an eavesdropper close by, the truth might come out, and Sakura couldn’t risk that.

No. Not before she secured her lab, at least.

She glanced around the place with a frown. It was… desolate. The most obvious difference was that the ceiling had caved in. All of the windows were shattered, the tables were in different corners of the room, as if blown away from their former places by a great force, and the walls were cracked in places. There was blood on the floor and a pile of ash in place of where Itachi’s body had been lying.

Sakura gulped, repressing her gag reflex. 

There was also blood… on the floor. 

Is that mine?

Sakura closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Breathe, Sakura. First: tea. A warm cuppa always made everything better. 

Sakura quickly walked to the adjacent kitchenette and made herself some warm tea. After chugging a cup, she felt energized enough to start collecting samples from the rubble.

Beneath some dislodged ceiling bits, she found sunflowers growing. Hmmm… interesting. A by-product of the Mokuton, perhaps? Ino had only brought her one flower, and yet now an entire colony seemed to be growing…

Worth researching, definitely.

Carefully, Sakura crouched down and started the arduous process of sample collection, as well as some basic tests to determine the state of the lab.

Her heart almost stopped when she turned on her radioactivity measuring machine and it began beeping like crazy. Seven… eight.. nine…  Sakura watched the  numbers raise in her portable radioactivity-meter and began to feel sick.

An area would already be considered dangerous in the long term if the radioactivity level reached one. Her lab was currently… gods. She quickly shook her head and gulped, not even wanting to think of the number she’d just read on it, after the counter had finally stopped rising. 

Now what?

Exposure wouldn’t just be a hazard to her, but to all the neighbours, as well. It was lucky that there existed radioactivity-absorbing seals… she’d have to place those on the walls and ceiling – er, or lack thereof – asap.

Sakura worked on restoring her lab through the night, even going as far as to sneak the special radioactivity seals from the hospital in order to get the area protected as soon as possible. She needed to do this while Tsunade slept, or she’d be in even more trouble later. So… she needed to finish tonight.

By dawn, she’d managed to fix the ceiling and cover the whole place in special seals, as well as her sample material. Sakura stared emptily at the desolate place one last time before locking the door behind her. She’d only be able to go back after the radioactivity levels dropped to normal… and who knew how long it would take those seals to neutralize it all?

She walked aimlessly home and dropped into her bed like a sack of bricks.

“Forehead… are you okay?” Ino asked. They were in Ino's house at the Yamanaka compound, seated at Ino’s kitchen, safe from prying ears. Her blue eyes were full of concern, her eyebrows drawn and…

It’s funny, Sakura thought. Somehow, her being so worried makes me less worried.

“Yeah,” she nodded, giving Ino an easy smile. “I’m alright. Better than, even. I’ve been thinking, and I have a pretty good idea of what went wrong in the jutsu…”

“Forehead,” Ino cut in sharply. “You’re not seriously thinking of continuing those experiments, are you?”

Sakura blinked at her. “Of course I am.” Once the lab stops being  a safety hazard.

“What do you mean, of course you are?!” Ino shouted hysterically. “You almost died!”

“But I didn’t. And next time, I’ll be prepared for that extreme reaction in the jutsu.” And the radioactivity.  “Oh, by the way. Mind if I give you a checkup, Ino?”

Ino squinted at her. “I’m not the one who got hit by that–”

“Just humor me,” Sakura said lightly. I need to know you won’t drop dead just for being there. 

After all, Sakura’s body had developed a tolerance to radioactivity over the years – likely the only reason she’d survived… whatever had happened. Her body could purge it effortlessly, and thank god for that, or Tsunade-shishou would know what had caused the ‘accident’. Ino though… Ino might be compromised.

“Sakura. Sakura, listen  to me,” Ino ranted, even as Sakura healed what damage she could find. 

“Not now, Ino. I’m busy.”

When they switched to each other’s real name, they always meant business. 

“Damnit, you stupid bitch!” Ino shrieked. “Stop whatever it is you’re doing and promise me you won’t go back to researching that.”

“I can’t make that promise, Ino,” Sakura said quietly.

“Listen. I know you’re… you hate losing, but there’s nothing embarrassing about losing to death, Sakura. It was too much to expect we could bring others back to life. Please. Please, let’s just shelf this–”

“You can shelf it, if you like,” Sakura replied. “I will continue my research.”

“Forehead!” Ino snapped, slamming her hand down on the table. “Please. My dad died, I’ve accepted it, I can move on, please don’t die as well. Do you even know what that would do to me, if it was my fault?”

“Okay, stop right there,” Sakura said, placing her tea cup in the sink. It landed with such strength that the cup broke. “Ino. You’re only a part of the reason why I’m doing this, and you’ve never forced my hand. If something happens to me, it’s going to be because I chose to incur the risk.”

“Sakura… please…”

“No,” Sakura said with a shake of her head. “I will keep researching. Ino, you didn’t feel it, but I did. I was so close. I just… I miscalculated in how the energies would merge, but that reaction… I’ve never seen anything like it. I was right. My studies on the Mokuton paid off. I’ve harnessed the energy of life. With  this, we won’t even need to sacrifice all those rapists anymore, we can just–”

“Mokuton?” Ino interrupted. “Forehead, what the hell?!”

Sakura waved her off quickly. “Never mind. Ino. My point is that I almost had it. Seriously. I know it sounds outlandish, but I'm telling you I’ve made a breakthrough. If anything, we should be celebrating. With this kind of energy… It's completely sustainable. We could do anything with it. Even revive the dead.”

Ino frowned, her arms crossed as she stared Sakura down. “Forehead… I’m telling.”

“What?” Sakura said. “You can’t tell anyone! I’m so close! I promise I am!”

“Close to dying, you mean!”

“No, Ino! I almost had it! Please, it’s been years of research – you can’t just throw it all down the drain!” 

“You bet I can!”

“Ino,” Sakura hissed, leaning over the blonde's chair to stare straight into her eyes,, her voice almost trembling. “If you stop me from carrying out my research… I will never talk to you again.”

They lapsed into silence.  Sakura began to clean up to porcelain cup pieces from the sink.

Finally, Ino sighed. “If… if I promise not to tell…  you at least have to agree to my other idea.”

“What idea?” Sakura asked suspiciously.

“Remember when you were trying to puzzle out the particulars of the edo tensei a few months ago, and I asked you why you didn’t just summon Tobirama and ask him?” Ino said, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes,” Sakura snapped.

“I know your stupid pride gets in the way of progress, Forehead, but if you want to keep researching death, this is my condition. Call in Tobirama.”

“What?” Sakura burst out. “Look, Ino. I told you then, and I'll say it again: I'm not resurrecting Tobiramaa. Never will. Not him of all people - and it’s not because of my stupid pride. He’s a bigot. Look at what he did to Sasuke’s family, look at–”

“Forehead. Do you understand what non-negotiable means?” Ino cut her off.

Sakura closed her mouth. Frowned. 

“ This is non-negotiable,” Ino said, pointing at herself. “My terms are absolute, now either agree to them right now, or I'm telling on you!”

“But Ino–!”

“No, Forehead. I mean it. And don’t think I’m bluffing," Ino said, matching her gaze in intensity. "Either you get someone else who knows what they’re doing on board, or I’m tattling on you and this research ends here.”

Sakura bit her lip. She could tell Ino was serious, but that didn’t mean she had to agree… though, she knew this was her ultimatum. She knew she was on thin ice.

She sighed. If she summoned Tobirama from the dead and he helped her complete the jutsu, it would no longer be her jutsu. Not that she intended on telling anyone about her invention, but if they found out, they’d say it was all Tobirama’s. They’d say that he had perfected his own technique and beaten death. There was something sour about the thought of bringing him back, if only his edo tensei form, so he’d help her. For god’s sake, she might marry Sasuke in three years. All of the tragedies that had befallen him were that bigot’s fault. He was the one who had whispered into Hashirama’s ear about how the Uchiha were all rotten, he was the one who’d sent them to live in the outskirts like common rabble, he was the one who had invented the edo tensei and had then been stupid enough to leave notes detailing how to use it lying around for Orochimaru and Obito to find. He was the one who had appointed Hiruzen – the worst Hokage in history – to succeed him.

In Sakura’s book, there was absolutely nothing redeemable about the second Hokage. And yet now she was supposed to collaborate with him? Not fucking happening.

“Forehead,” Ino pressed, her voice hard. “I don’t care about anything but your safety. Please. Don’t make me tell Kakashi about this.”

Sakura sighed.

“We’d need a hair or something with his DNA to summon him.” 

Ino smiled triumphantly. “Well –  isn’t Tsunade in town? I’m sure you can get her to show you some of his old belongings. Didn’t she already put you in charge of caring for the Senju estate?”

Sakura sighed. “Only the graves.” 

“Well, there you have it.”

“No. I don’t,” Sakura snapped.“Even if I actually wanted to, I don’t know which grave is Tobirama’s,” Sakura objected.

“Then ask Tsunade-sama which one it is, and summon him,” Ino spat. “If Tobirama doesn’t help, your research is finished, Forehead.”

TWO years ONE month TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month ONE week Before YANAGI

Tsunade didn’t seem to care much about material things, such as the ruins of her old clan, but she did ask Sakura to keep the graves of her ancestors clean in her absence. Sakura had been going back once every two weeks to do maintenance for years, ever since Tsunade-shishou had left… how long ago was that already? Ten years? No. Nine. Almost ten. Sakura sighed. How time flies…

It was a hauntingly beautiful place, the Senju graveyard. In place of headstones like in the general village graveyard, the Senju remembered their dead with little house-constructions meant for the kami – Sakura assumed people were actually buried beneath them, but it was hard to say, since there were no names or labels anywhere. Just those little house graves with eternally-blooming flowers growing all around, one species per grave.

Which come to think of it, was the perfect defense against Ino’s demands.

Sakura’s stomach twisted queasily. Unearthing Itachi’s bones hadn’t been pleasant by any means, but at least Itachi had supposedly been good to Sasuke. Digging around the grave of someone she hated, someone she didn’t even want to bring back would be another kind of repulsive.

TWO years ONE month ONE week Before YANAGI

Sakura thought further about what to do for what seemed to be forever, but finally she decided that her research took precedence. If Ino tattled, it would end, she knew. She wouldn't allow that to happen… so she’d have to find a way to summon Tobirama.

“Shishou,” she murmured, picking at her food. Tsunade hadn’t allowed her to cook at all in the week and a half she’d been staying at Sakura’s place. She insisted Sakura’s efforts in the kitchen only amounted to food poisoning, so they’d been eating out for most of the week. Ordinarily, Sakura would be eating at the Academy, but Kakashi had forced her to take some time off due to her delicate state. (Please note the sarcasm.)

“Hm?” Tsunade ate like she did most things: with a rugged sort of elegance and ease Sakura had always envied. She watch the woman plop noodles in her mouth through thoughtful eyes.

“Well… I was wondering… Are you going to take any offerings to the graveyard this year?” Sakura asked.

Tsunade blinked. “You mean… my clan’s?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Tsunade frowned at her questioningly. “Wasn’t planning on it. Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Sakura resisted the urge to wring her hands. “Since you asked me to do the upkeep, I was wondering…”

“You’re still doing that?” Tsunade cut in with surprise.

“Er… well, of course?” Sakura said.

Tsunade scratched her scalp. “I’d… assumed you’d stopped. It’s been a while.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Sakura objected. “I keep my word, shishou.”

Tsunade sighed. “You do, don’t you?” She smiled a little feebly. “Well, I suppose I should go leave an offering, after making you take care of it so hypocritically.”

“It’s not hypocritical–” Sakura cut in.

“Do you want to come?” Tsunade interrupted. 

Sakura perked up. She tried to hide her relieved smile. “I would like that.”

Tsunade didn’t talk much during graveyards visits. She especially didn’t talk while  leaving her offerings to her deceased family. Sakura felt her deep sadness even without the need for words. She’d accompanied Tsunade to the Senju graveyard a handful of times before. Tsunade liked to bring her when she went on these trips, who knew why. Maybe because when thirteen-year-old Sakura was there, Tsunade couldn’t go to the bar afterwards and drink herself into a stupor.

Sakura had never dared speak before, or ask any questions, really. But now, she knew she had to. This… this was going to be such a horrible breach of trust. Tsunade was allowing her to see all of these… the graves of her ancestors, this silent, green and beautiful graveyard so teeming with plantlife, and yet symbolizing death… and Sakura would turn around and dig up one of those graves like a dirty little weasel.

But there was no other way. Ino would tattle on her if she didn’t bring Tobirama into the research. And if Ino tattled, she couldn't’ help Tsunade-shishou see Nawaki, nor the rest of her family again, either.

That’s right. I’m doing this for you, Shishou.

Sakura took a deep breath, taking  care not to step on the white chrysanthemum and spider lilies blooming ever. Flowers of grief and death respectively… She glanced around uneasily. Just like plucking the wings off a butterfly, Sakura hated the mental image of stomping on a blooming flower. But now… what she was about to do was so much worse.

“Shishou… after so many years of looking after these graves, I got curious as to whose grave is whose.” Her voice sounded frail in the breeze.  “I mean, this place is full of aster flowers, which mean ‘I won’t forget you’, yet I come here every two weeks, and I don’t even know the first thing about the people buried here.”

Tsunade tilted her face in the direction of the sun. “A lot of them, I don’t even know myself,” she said. “My  clan was already dwindling in members by the time I was born.”

“Oh,” Sakura said.

“We have the custom of using only flowers as grave identifiers,” Tsunade explained. “The older generations instated it. I can imagine it might have been my grand-uncle’s idea – to prevent corpse theft.”

Sakura blanched. Her grand uncle… that was Tobirama.

“R-right. So only the close family knows who was buried where, through the flower.”

“Well, if you know any Hanakotoba, you can guess some of them,” Tsunade said, pointing out a grave to her. 

“Katabami,” Sakura said, recognizing the plant. As per usual when she was with her shishou, the urge to rattle off all her knowledge – herbology, in this case – manifested. “It’s a creeping plant, recognizable for its three yellow leaves shaped like a heart. Very hard to weed, as it can stand up again even after being trampled. No medicinal uses.”

“Hm,” Tsunade agreed. “That’s right. But the important part here is the Hanakotoba. Do you know that?”

Sakura shook her head mutely.

“Katabami symbolizes everlasting prosperity, both for the recipient of the flowers and his descendants, which made it an emblem of high value for the great families of shinobi.”

Sakura frowned at the plant thoughtfully. “Could this be… Hashirama Senju’s grave?”  The little yellow flowers didn’t look like much, but… the symbolism was on point, she had to admit.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I wasn’t told where they’d buried him because I was too young at the time,” Tsunade said, her voice trailing off. “By the time I was old enough to know… it was too late.”

Sakura reached out to touch her arm. “I… I’m so sorry, Shisou.”

“It’s not your fault, Sakura,” Tsunade said quietly.

They continued walking and passed a pond in the wide garden  of the graveyard, as usual, replete with hasu (lotus) flowers. Sakura knew thanks to Ino that hasu flowers  were linked to wisdom, humility and even mercy, due to its ability to bloom even in muddy water. Also called the flower of mourning… it truly looked beautiful in that pond. Ephemeral, untouched by time and the cruelties of their society. She supposed now she could know for certain that it didn’t grow in this graveyard coincidentally.

Rounding around the pond, they passed a grave brimming with red camellias. Tsubaki – that was the name she’d chosen for the antagonist in her story. The existence of Tsubaki as the main villain of her Icha Icha was the main difference between the spin of she’d written and the main Icha Icha books, so Kakashi usually called her books ‘the Tsubaki series’ – despite, again, Tsubaki being the antagonist.

Still, as Sakura bent down to regard the flowers, she couldn't help but smile fondly. Despite originally trying to make Tsubaki as dislikeable a character as possible, it was hard not to grow fond of her after all these years. Tsubaki, the princess of nothing but lies, who would die by sepukku at the end of the series, just as the flowers that gave her her name.

Sakura paused to stare at the red camellias thoughtfully. The tsubaki were similar to the sakura flowers in that they held great meaning for warriors in the edo period. Yakuza members often got the giant tsubaki tattoos on their backs, following the samurai families who often depicted the flower in their coats of arms and house crests. Tsubaki was flower of honour and the noble death of the warrior; it was the flower of seppuku. She wondered who had been buried with this grave of beautiful grave surrounded by Tsubaki. It was one of the better kept ones, with little seals on the rocks making up the little house for the kami. Maybe this one was Hashirama’s grave after all. The red camellias were prestigious for warriors. Or maybe it was Tobirama’s grave, considering the seals. He did die by sacrificing himself, didn’t he? She shook her head. No way. The Tsubaki flower didn’t remind her of that bigot at all; the grave must be for someone else.

“Sakura?”

Sakura glanced up, noticing Tsunade-shishou was already a ways off. “Don’t dawdle.”

Sakura nodded and got up from where she’d kneeled in front of the tsubaki grave, brushing her stained pants off.

They passed more of the little houses of the kami, Tsunade quietly telling her about those belonging to people she knew or about those with flowers she liked. There was Ume, a grave laid out beneath the shadow of an apricot tree.  

“They rather look like Sakura flowers,” Tsunade remarked, reaching out to touch one of the small flowers. “They’re supposed to protect against demons, you know?”

“Um. I didn’t,” Sakura said, reaching out as well. "It's a beatiful flower."

"It is."

They lapsed into silence and continued walking past more and more graves.

“This is such a unique graveyard,” Sakura whispered.

Death was seen as something impure in Shintoism – hence why Tobirama had called his resurrection the impure world one. The odd thing was, as a result of this belief, most funerals in Fire Country – and the Five Nations at large –  followed the Buddhist rituals. The deceased were cremated and buried in a family grave. The tombstone (or hakaishi) was the entire family’s marker. Yet the Senju… they had one grave for each person… and they didn’t seem to assign their death Buddhist names to keep their souls from returning. According to tradition, at least the traditions Sakura had grown up with, the deceased would always receive a Buddhist name (or kaimyō) from a priest after their death. This name prevented them from entering the mortal world if their worldly name was uttered. Traditionally, old-fashioned kanji were used for the Buddhist name to avoid the name falling in everyday conversations. This name could always be found written on a wooden grave marker, called itatoba behind the tombstone. 

At least in normal graveyards – but in the Senju graveyard, she had never seen an Itatoba. In fact, the whole tradition of the graves facing east seemed not to concern them as well. At least not fully. While most of the graves were facing east, like normal, Sakura had seen a couple that weren’t.

She frowned, questions burning on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t sure if she should ask. Her shishou was always sensitive during these visits.

Arms laced together now, they continued walking and  passed the Botan, flowers of honour and beauty and courage, with their rigid, straight stalks and their vibrant colours. This was the queen of flowers, in Sakura’s opinion. She’d have picked it for Ino.

Then they walked past patches of Kiku, too, the symbol of longevity and purity and truth. The flower of the Damiyo’s family. Sakura wondered if the Senju had married into the royal family at some point. She could also see a wisteria tree at the end of the graveyard. Due to its purple flowers, and the prohibition for normal folk to wear purple, the wisteria also had royal connotations. You could tell that this graveyard was special alright. Not least because the flowers never wilted.

Sakura’s attention moved to the cherry blossoms, which of course, couldn’t be missing from any shinobi grave site.

“They don’t wilt and die beautiful,” Tsunade said, recognizing what Sakura was looking out. “Your namesake – they’re the symbol of Bushido.”

Sakura gave a hum. “My parents knew from the start that they wanted me to train in the ninja arts.”

“They chose a good name,” Tsunade remarked, giving her a smile. “The Sakura has many meanings in the language of flowers.”

Sakura cracked a grin. “Yeah, they were bound to at least get one right, I guess.”

“Well, which meaning do you prefer?” Tsunade asked fondly.

Sakura paused. “Uh…”

There was the more feminine meaning of her namesake flowers: the sakura stood for a gentle and kind heart –  a good name for any little girl. It was the meaning most people she met seemed to like to consign to her when they met her… though she felt like it represented her the least. No, she couldn’t give that as her answer. The sakura also stood for “transience of life”; they were the flowers that represented the  life, death, and rebirth through the various seasons. A good name for a medic… an excellent name for a necromancer.

Maybe it was her own paranoia, but something told her not to mention that she liked that meaning the most.

“I suppose I like the cherry blossoms symbolizing beauty and violence in our world,” she said at last. “I’ve heard the lifecycle of the cherry blossom get compared to the bright yet colorful life of samurai so often… it’s nice.”

“Not just samurai,” Tsunade agreed, picking one up from the Sakura tree that was eternally blooming in the graveyard.

 “Cherry blossoms were also used to decorate our kamikaze soldiers’ armour during the Third Shinobi war.”

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed, not knowing what else to say.

They continued walking, finding Ran and Nadeshiko and Shobu and even Kiri flowers. Sakura paused to admire the beautiful wisteria growing on the other side of the pond, some of its petals touching the still waters. Water trickled down over a forgotten patch of soil, close to the pond, and into its general surroundings. Her boots were a mess, full of marsh, but she didn’t care as she stepped closer to the beautiful wisteria tree.

“Careful, you’ll step on those daffodils,” Tsunade called out, as Sakura rounded the pond. She glanced down and noticed only then that she’d almost stepped on a patch of daffodils in front of another grave.

“Whoops,” she whispered, retreating carefully.

She rounded around the grave of white daffodils – suisen, was their formal name – to examine the wisteria further. It grew so close to the pond that its roots even protruded from the water. Crouching at the water’s edge, Sakura dipped her hand into the coolness of it, scooping up some of the petals that had fallen inside, a mixture of the different flowers in the area, most of them having drifted down into the cool waters.

She stared at her wet hands. Water droplets covered the tsubaki petals in her palm – tsubaki, the flower that beheaded itself when it died, crimson like blood or a maple’s autumn leaves. There were white and yellow ones, too, but in this graveyard, only the red tsubaki grew. Sakura dipped her hand in again and fished out some wisteria flowers. The wooden, trailing stalks of the wisteria tree above her brushed her shoulders as she leaned further into the water to scoop up the petals of a red spider lily. Flowers of graveyards and dead, spider lilies were said to guide the lost souls through the samsara. Sakura believed it; they looked like fire incarnate. Such a beautiful flower, with such a tragic meaning. Now, wet and flattened against her palm as it was, it just looked sad. 

“Sakura?” Tsunade’s voice called. “I’m done with my offerings!”

“Coming, shishou!”

Sakura stood, ducking beneath the wisteria branches again.  The tree was so charged with meaning that she had used to be certain someone important had to be buried in this part of the graveyard… but it was largely empty but for the pond.  

She supposed it probably wouldn’t be very wise to bury someone close to a swamp.  Only one grave was in the area, and it wasn’t even facing the east, like the others.  

Sakura glanced back to the grave with the daffodils, wondering whose grave this ought to have been, that they’d been sent off to a watery tomb. Their relatives probably didn’t like them much, to bury this person all alone by themselves in this part of the graveyard, practically next to a mini swamp. And then they’d picked such an average flower, too. Daffodils didn’t have any meaning in Hanakotoba that she could think of. Nowadays, it was  a rather unpopular flower, usually it was only used for ikebana in combination with other flowers, always acting as a second place to the other, more showy and meaningful ones. Daffodils were also linked with winter – every shinobi and merchant’s least favorite season. 

“Wow. Whoever this person was, their family really must have hated them,” Sakura muttered, as she weaved around the wisteria branches, carefully stepping around  the daffodils.

“Did you say anything?” Tsunade asked from a distance.

“No,” Sakura called, trudging through the mud towards her. “Just wondering whose grave that was. That one, by the water.” She nodded toward it over her shoulder.

Tsunade gave a shrug. “Most likely a little girl’s. The daffodils are completely white. Probably symbolizes purity or virginity. They’re also rather innocent flowers. It’s the type I’d choose for a young girl.”

Sakura nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense.”

“Let’s go home?” Tsunade asked. Sakura nodded, clasping her arm, and they walked outside of the graveyard side by side. A dreary sort of sadness clung to Sakura even as the sounds of nature and the desolate Senju compound began to disappear, the bustle of Konoha replacing them.

“You know, I am partial to Rindo flowers,” Tsunade said casually as they walked.

Sakura twisted around to stare at her in horror. “Shishou…”

She couldn’t possibly be alluding to…

Tsunade laughed. “Well, I’m getting on in my years, Sakura. What did you expect? I’d rather tell you now, so no fool tries to bury me with daisies hanging over my grave, or god forbid, roses.”

“You know, I think a red rose would suit you,” Sakura reflected. “Beautiful, a princess among the rest of flowers, red like your nails and your high heels, and yet with sharp, painful thorns for those who try to pluck it.”

Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Is that what you’d remember about me? My physical appearance?”

Sakura’s smile faded. “No, of course not–”

“The Rindo flowers, gentian, are literally spelled as dragon’s bile. It can remind those who care to remember me of my bad temper and my bad breath after I drink too much.”

Sakura didn’t laugh at the joke. “Dragon’s bile is a remedy. A medicinal remedy from the Chinas…”

“It is,” Tsunade remarked. “I don’t want to be remembered for my looks, Sakura. I want to be remembered as the creator of modern medicine. Gentian is the flower that blooms in autumn, after all others have wilted and disappeared. The medic is the one who remains.”

Sakura stared at her feet sadly. “Shishou…” That’s so sad…

TWO years ONE month ONE week Before YANAGI

Sakura sighed. The chime above the Yamanaka flower shop dinged as she entered.  Tsunade had left Konoha the very next day after that graveyard visit. Sakura was left back in her empty flat, alone and hurting and with a lot on her mind. Now more than ever, she wanted to complete the perfect reincarnation jutsu. She couldn’t lose her shishou. She couldn’t. She had to bring back Shishou’s family to her before the woman  did something stupid like overuse her Byakugo enough to kill herself; find some other excuse to end her sadness.

Shishou couldn’t be allowed to keep wandering about aimlessly, wasting away in betting houses and casinos. Sakura was enough to make Tsunade come back to Konoha, but not enough to make her stay. Only her family coming back could make her stay.

Sakura stared distantly at an array of red roses. Shishou…

“Sakura-chan, what a surprise!”

Sakura turned, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh, Auntie Iwako! Hey…” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “It’s good to see you.”

“Indeed. A sight for sore eyes, you are! It’s been, what? Ten years?”

Sakura nodded distantly. “More, I think.”

She’d used come to visit Aunty Iwako at the flower shop to talk to Ino, both during her early childhood and as a teenager. Ino had used to work here part time – uncle Inoichi  had refused to find her shopping sprees, so she’d had to get a part time job. Sakura recalled those days fondly, of herself studying in the back of the shop while Ino wove flower crowns, sometimes braiding any spares into Sakura’s hair. It had been easier when Sakura had it long. When she’d lobbed it all off, it was like saying: I won’t ever let you weave a flower crown in my hair again.

Ino had found a way to do it even with short hair, though. She’d used to love giving Sakura flower crows while she studied for her tests. It had used to be so soothing, keeping Ino company while she studied.  

Now she was here alone, though. Sakura browsed the wares as a customer this time, sparing a polite greeting for Ino’s aunt before turning her attention to the labels on the plants, explaining the Hanakotoba meanings behind them to prospective clients.

She’d almost finished studying them all when the bell chimed again and Ino herself walked in.

“Looking for me, Forehead? Well, good, ‘cause I was looking for you.”

“Oh?” Sakura said with feigned disinterest. “How did you find me? Stalker much?”

“Head of intelligence much,” Ino countered.

“I don’t appreciate the stalking.”

“You know why, Billboard Brow. I told you I’d give you a month before tattling.”

“Not here, Ino,” Sakura hissed.

“Then what are you wasting time in here for?” Ino whispered back. “The clock’s ticking, Sakura.”

“I’m on it, alright?” Sakura snapped. “Now leave me alone.”

Truthfully, her only plan thus far was to buy some daffodils to bring to the Senju graveyard. All the best lies had a kernel of truth, and Sakura had almost stepped on those daffodils. If she claimed to have stepped on them, she could buy new ones fo fix her alleged damage and she’d have to perfect excuse for carrying a shovel on her person while at a graveyard.

Once there, she had to try and figure out which grave belonged to Tobirama. Sakura said none of this out loud, though, inspecting the different bouquets containing daffodils.

Ino glared at her as she picked out a bouquet in particular – of course  daffodils were once again second place, with some other flowers as the centerpiece. No, that wouldn’t do.

She sighed, placed the bouquet back where she’d taken it from, and approached the desk instead.

“Aunty Iwako, could you help me pick out some daffodils, please? I need them with their roots for a repotting, if that’s possible?”

“Daffodils?” Ino asked with crossed arms. “What for, Forehead? They’re boring flowers.”

“Shut it, Pig. It’s because I accidentally stepped on someone’s grave-site flowers and I want to replace them.”

“That’s good of you, Sakura-chan,” Aunty Iwako praised. “What kind of daffodils did you step on? Do you remember?”

“Uh… white daffodils.”

“Sakura-chan, there are more than ten types of white daffodils!” exclaimed aunty Iwako. “We’ve got the trumpet daffodils, large-cupped and small-cupped, double and trandus, cyclamineus daffodils, jonquilla, tazetta, poetic and bulbocodium hybris, or split cupped, or…”

“Alright, alright. Just… just show me and I’ll pick out the ones I stepped on.”

She was thus shown the large cupped daffodils, also known as ice daffodils (here Ino had made a joke about Sakura being more deserving of small cupped ones, considering her breast size), after which she’d been shown the ‘ice king daffodils’, followed by the ‘ice wings’ – after which she’d started sensing a theme.

“Are they all nicknamed ‘ice something?” Sakura grumbled.

“Well, most of them are white like ice,” Ino said with an eyeroll. “But there’s also the passionate daffodils over there if you prefer something more romantic.”

Sakura was pointed at daffodils with red petals in the middle, surrounded by delicate white ones.

“You know what… I have no idea which ones I saw, so I think I’ll just get them all,” she decided.

Aunty Iwako chuckled. “A wise decision. Hm, it’s been a while since I’ve had to do a flower arrangement without taking the meanings into account. They all have the same one.”

“Just sort them to look pretty,” Sakura said with a shrug, digging in her purse for her cash. “And they do? I thought daffodils didn’t have a meaning.”

“You can give them to a superior at work or an elder,” Ino said from next to her, while lazily helping her aunt arrange the daffodils. “Basically to convey respect.”

“So it means respect?” Sakura asked with a frown. Then the flowers did have a Hanakotoba meaning, albeit a somewhat boring one, compared to the flowers of samurai and honorable deaths or nobiliary families. Why did Tsunade-shishou…? “It doesn’t mean virginity?”

“Virginity?” the two Yamanaka women stared at her in obvious confusion.

“No. The daffodil means hermit by the water, if you want to be literal about it,” Auntie Iwako added.

“Yeah,” Ino shrugged. “I’ve never heard anyone say the white ones mean virginity, either. People typically gift the yellow ones, though.”

Sakura nodded distractedly. So then, did her shishou simply not know the meaning of daffodils, just like Sakura hadn’t? Or was it different for the Senju clan?

“”Here, we’re done.” She was startled out of her thoughts by Aunty Iwako was passing her a large flower bouquet over the counter, as well as the ticket for her purchase. Sakura clasped the bouquet, careful not to disturb the roots.

“You’ll have to keep them in water if you don’t want them to die,” Iwako warned. “You know the shunshin, yes? So hurry on home to put them in a vase before you repot them. No pit stops!”

Sakura nodded slung the daffodils over her shoulder, inspecting the shopping ticket. “Thanks, auntie. I will, and take care.”

Internally, she was singing a different tune.

Ouch. That hurt. Why is this so expensive? she grumbled to herself, eyeing the number at the bottom, though she dared not complain to Aunty Iwako.

“Come on, Forehead, I’ll walk you for a bit,” Ino suggested.

Sakura nodded distractedly, still staring at the ticket. The bell chimed above them – Ino was holding the shop door open for her. Sakura stepped through, still staring at the shopping ticket.  

“Was this how you spelled daffodil?” she asked, staring at the kanji. Shishou had lied. Sakura couldn’t believe it. Shishou had definitely lied!

“Forehead, seriously? You cannot be my best friend if you don’t even know that!” Ino complained. “Though I suppose they are rather unpopular flowers…”

“Ino,” Sakura gritted out, her voice coming out strained. She barely even realized that she’d stopped walking. “I thought Auntie said they mean ‘hermit by the water’?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ino complained, peering over her shoulder to look at the shopping ticket. “Yes, that’s how you spell daffodil. Sui–sen. Water, hundred, or hermit. Can we get a move on now? People are staring.”

Sakura could only stare in shock at the two kanji, hadn’t even heard Ino’s last words. “Why is it written with the kanji of water an immortal?” she asked hysterically.

Ino eyed her strangely. “The daffodils came from overseas some centuries ago, the seamen brought ‘em in from the Chinas, across the ocean. Maybe that’s why it’s written with the kanji for “water”?”

“But what about “immortal”?!”

“Immortal in taoism,” Ino punctuated. “But  like I said, it stands for hermit.”

“But it could also mean immortal!”

“Well, it can live close to water, right?” Ino said slowly. “Maybe that’s why they mixed those two kanji, why they called it suisen – because it was seen as pure and longevous in the water. Plus, sen… that could mean a hundred, right? Hermits are often…”

Sakura wasn’t listening anymore. Sen, like Senju, like immortal. Sui, like water. How could she have been so obtuse? She'd nearly trampled all over Tobirama's grave!

TWO years ONE month ONE week Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

The garden gate creaked as she pushed it open. Sakura trod through the old path carefully, crossing the tori gates that lead her deeper and deeper into the old Senju ruins. Usually, this was a relaxing walk for her, a moment to reconnect for her spirituality, as she advanced deeper and deeper into sacred Senju territory – but there was nothing spiritual about how she felt right now. She knew her Shishou had already left Konoha, but what she was about to do… Gods, if she was caught…

But she had no choice.  She had to dig up Tobirama. Or whoever had been buried under that suisen patch. She still couldn’t be sure it was in fact Tobirama. Sakura kneeled down on the ground and fisted her hands into the damp grass, green blooms interspersed with mud here and there.

Her knees were already wet and disgusting, but it didn’t matter. Few things smelled cleaner, purer, than humid air in an overgrown garden full of flowers. It didn’t matter.

She formed the handsigns for the mole-hunting jutsu.

Her experience with digging up Itachi made it easier to retrieve the remains this time. Whoever had buried this person here by the swamp had had the forbearance of making his casket waterproof. When she finally had the casket right in front of her, she could see the fuinjutsu marks on it. A seal. It was protected by a huge, powerful seal…

Sakura’s stomach dropped. Yes, this clearly indicated that the one buried beneath the wisteria tree, in a grave marked by daffodils, was Tobirama – she didn’t think just anyone would have a colossal, pitch black seal like this on their casket – but on the other hand… how the hell was she supposed to get past the seal? Only a fuinjutsu practitioner of Kakashi’s caliber might crack this seal. Maybe not even him. So then…

Sakura walked around the casket, staring at the seal a little hopelessly. There was little she could do to crack it. She knew next to nothing about fuinjutsu…

Just then, she noticed something. Her eyebrows rose as she spotted it: there, strange, grainy marks against the sides of the casket, as though someone had struck it with a weapon. That definitely didn’t look like a normal casket.

Wait. Hold that thought.

Of course! Orochimaru had already done all of this, hadn’t he? He’d opened the casket with force… that meant, he’d already cracked the seal. Now Sakura remembered that the way  to crack seals was by writing an inverse cancelation seal on top of it. Maybe that was why the seal on the casket looked so black – because it had been scribbled over, because it had already been canceled out.

She took a deep breath and carefully, almost flinchingly, nudged the casket with her boot. Nothing happened. She was still alive, thunder still hadn't dropped down from the open sky to smite her. (Frankly, she had about enough of being smited by random lightning bolts). 

Sakura stepped a little closer to the casket and carefully, very carefully, lifted it open.

A choked gasp clawed its way out of her chest. 

A man lay in there – perfectly preserved!

Sakura almost gagged in horror. It was unnatural. Their culture was one of cremation. Yes, bones were preserved, but not a whole body, so perfect it could be a doll. She’d been expecting another collection of bones, but this… As her eyes roved over the  – sarcophagus – she suddenly noticed the array of seals littering it. Clearly, preservation seals of some kind. How… perverse. Did all the Senju preserve their dead like this, or was the nidaime just… special?

Sakura found she couldn’t regard the pale, drawn face lying in the casket. Holding her breath, she quickly reached into the casket and plucked some hairs from his white mane. Then she hastily shut the casket and buried it deep back into the earth with another jutsu.

The store-bought daffodils went on top of those she’d now desecrated, and the gravesite looked no worse for wear than it had before. She wondered what this had been like for Orochimaru. Did he also go to the Yamanaka flower shop and buy daffodils to leave behind? Did he also quickly take a hair before shutting the casket? Sakura hadn’t missed how pristinely preserved the body and casket were – almost as if even Orochimaru had gone out of his way not to damage more than he had to.

What a joke.

Sakura stuffed the white hairs still clutched in her hand deep into her pouch and resolutely forgot they existed all the way back to her lab. Not.

It was impossible to forget, but she at least tried to pretend so until making it there. She didn’t want Ino entering the lab because of the latent radioactivity, but she had nowhere else where she could summon the nidaime without being disturbed, so the lab it was.

Getting ahold of a sacrificial lamb was harder than usual, without Ino’s help, but Sakura hadn’t wanted to inform her of her successful collection  of the DNA yet.

As to casting the technique itself… Even though she was only going to be using the imperfect edo tensei to bring Tobirama back, rather than the perfect version she’d been developing… somehow her body kept expecting to be hit by that surge of lightning, that titanic surge of force from when she’d employed her technique… the perfect world reincarnation… she was absolutely terrified of her own technique.

I’m having a panic attack, she realized distantly, her hands trembling in the tiger seal position.

Breathe, Sakura. Breathe.

She wasn’t about to attempt the pure world reincarnation again. She had a plain old sacrifice, one more rapist at the ready, just like the impure reincarnation dictated.  This was just the regular, old edo tensei. No need to worry.

Sakura closed her eyes, the chakra flowing through her effortlessly. There was no lightning, no radioactivity, just silence, only  emptiness and the sacrifice. With trembling fingers, she moved through the handsigns, then she clapped her hands. The reaction curve grew, but it never whirled out of control. 

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

When she opened her eyes, the same man from the casket, from the fourth shinobi war… that man stood in front of her. Her heart was rabbiting in her throat, that sight of him inside a casket somehow branded into her.

“Who are you.”

Tobirama’s voice was the same she remembered from the war. He had the same pale face, with the strong jaw and the intimidating build. He’d died older than Hashirama. He must be, what? In his late forties? Fifties? She’d forgotten the details, but nevertheless, he was intimidating. More so than Itachi. A living legend. One she didn’t like, but one nonetheless.

It figured he wouldn’t even recall her. Sakura wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or put off. It had been creepier when Itachi had known so much about her, she decided. So, relieved then. She didn’t want anything from Tobirama; not even his recognition.

“I’m Haruno Sakura,” she introduced herself, hoping the nidaime would remember her from his prior resurrection. “You perhaps know me as Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke’s teammate?”

A slow blink. “Who?” Damn it!

“And Tsunade Senju’s apprentice?”

Still nothing. 

“I played an important role during the fourth shinobi war.”

Blank staring. Sakura’s ego was definitely hurting here.

“Why did you summon me, then?” Tobirama asked with a tone full of censure. 

“Because,” Sakura said, but the rest of the words wouldn’t come. She didn’t want anything from him, she only needed to get Ino off her back.

“Because you need something, I assume. Now tell me what it is, or leave me.”

Sakura stared darkly at the nidaime. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t need anything, but you do want something,” Tobirama said. “Well,  if you think I’ll readily help you with any of your little whims–”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Look, Tobirama,  I’m going to cut to the chase here. Since you insist on questioning my motives: I don’t want your ‘help’,  and I sure as hell don’t need it, either.” She glared at him, waving her hand dismissively. “So – there.”

Now Tobirama’s face finally displayed an emotion: disbelief.

“You realize you’re going to have to spill at some point?” he asked with derision. “Don’t worry, I can’t tell anyone about the secret desires in your heart of hearts.”

“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm,” Sakura spat. “The only reason I summoned you is to get my best friend off my back, okay? Once you tell her you’re helping me stay safe, I’ll banish you back to where you came from.”

Tobirama frowned suspiciously. “Safe? From what?” He glanced around the lab. “Dust particles?” 

“No, my research.” Sakura’s teeth were practically grinding in her irritation. 

“Your… research?” Tobirama repeated dubiously.

“Yes. It’s highly dangerous, which is why my friend suggested I summon you to help me. However, rest assured that I don’t require your help. I merely summoned you to avoid worrying my friend.”

“If you’re hoping inverse psychology will work on me, desist,” Tobirama said askance. “I’ve no interest in your research, and the edo tensei can only force me to fight. You cannot make me reveal any secrets, and you certainly can’t make me help you with your research.” He smiled nastily. “I assure you, you’re not the first who’s tried.”

“It’s not inverse psychology, damnit!” Sakura snapped irritably. Somehow Tobirama’s attitude grated on her. “I just told you I don’t want anything from you!”

“A likely story,” Tobirama said haughtily. He chanced another glance at their barren surroundings. “What is this place, then?”

“None of your business.” She still hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up the lab yet. She’d be worried Tobirama would die from the latent radioactivity, but he was already dead, so she didn’t care if he developed a cancer or something. The orange, clunky anti-radioactivity suit she was wearing was an added irritant for her , though. She knew that it probably made her look foolish.

“We are in Konoha, though?” he clarified.

“Yes, alright?” Sakura said. “But I’m controlling you with my jutsu, so don’t even think of running off to seek anyone out to tell them I’ve summoned you. Or let anyone see you, for that matter.”

Tobirama sighed loudly but otherwise made no reply. Well, good. She didn’t want to talk to the bigot anyway. 

“Alright, now stay here. I’m getting my friend. Just play along and say you’ll help. Once she’s convinced and leaves, I’m dispelling the jutsu,” Sakura said. The lab being radioactive was the perfect excuse to convince Ino not to visit her here again, as well. Sakura would make her suit up and go through the whole radioactivity-prevention process and once they were done, Ino would realize it wasn’t worth the trouble to go through all that just to step  into the lab, so she wouldn’t come back again, assuming Sakura was still inside with Tobirama. But  she wouldn’t know whether Tobirama was actually in there, helping her, or not.

When Sakura exited her lab to go find Ino, she was surprised to hear someone calling out her name.

“Sakura! Sakura, wait!”

Sakura whirled around, placing the voice as Tenten’s. And indeed, the brunette was running towards her from a distant rooftop, waving her arms to catch her attention. Sakura frowned.

What was Tenten doing in Konoha? She should've been off at Iwa, supervising the new project.

“Tenten? What’s up?” she asked slowly, when the brunette came to a stop in front of her.

Tenten was breathless.  “I looked for  you all over Konoha, Sakura. Couldn’t find you so reported to Kakashi first.”

“What is it?” Sakura asked with a frown. She lowered her voice. “Shouldn’t you be at the mine?”

Tenten nodded. “Yeah, but something big’s happened. Figured you’d want to know the news before we decide to go ahead with the project.”

Sakura frowned. “What news?”

“Iwa’s at war with Iron.”

Sakura folded her arms and stared at Tenten silently. Obviously, the brunette wouldn’t lie about something like this. She had never returned to Konoha in the middle of a job, so this had to be serious. But… war? There’d been nothing to indicate Iwa might declare war on any other nation any time soon. They’d been down on their luck for over a decade, their economy suffering blow after blow. They couldn’t sustain a war. There was no way. So then… 

“Iron attacked?” Sakura guessed.

Tenten nodded. “There  was a lot of confusion when I left, plus I didn’t stick around for long, but that’s what I gathered. There were samurai everywhere.” She shuddered.

“Fucking samurai,” Sakura muttered gravely. “They swore they would keep their nose out of our lands.”

“Yeah, well, when have those superior pricks ever kept a promise?” Tenten asked. “Sakura – what now? Should I go back? I wasn’t sure if you’d have wanted me to stay or to bring the news to you.”

Sakura tapped her arm thoughtfully. “What did Kakashi say?” 

“Well, he was horrified, what else? Iwa might try to embroil us in their war against the samurai, and what then?” 

“Hm,” Sakura said, looking around. “The street’s no place to talk about this. I want to discuss the situation with Ino and Kakashi before making any decisions.”

“So… what now?” Tenten asked with a frown.

“For now we wait,” Sakura said.

Of course, with the whole war-breaking-out-in-Iwa matter, Sakura completely forgot she had left Tobirama locked in her lab, with strict orders not to leave, until two days later. She’d been alone with Ino, discussing intelligence reports on Iwa’s situation, when her own lab’s situation had come back to her.

“Oh, shit!” She’d clapped her hands to her thighs sonorously.

“What is it?” Ino had asked with a frown.

“I completely forgot to tell you that I succeeded in summoning the nidaime!” Sakura exclaimed, staring at Ino with wide eyes.

Ino stared back, equally wide-eyed. “You what ?!”

“Honestly, with the whole Iwa getting embroiled in war situation, maybe I should just release the summons,” Sakura said, giving Ino a hopeful smile. “Chances are we’ll get involved, and then what do we do with the nidaime?”

“Kakashi and the Council have been expressly clear that we’re not getting involved,” Ino said with crossed arms. “So other than monitoring the situation and shipping  them some weapons, that’s going to be the extent of it.”

Sakura sighed. “Are you sure? They might send me since I’m a diplomat…”

“Forehead, if you think Kakashi’s sending you to Iwa, then you’re delusional.” Ino rolled her eyes. “Now, let me meet Tobirama. We’ve much to talk about.”

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

“So you’re the nidaime, huh?” Ino, now equally  orange-clad and suited up, asked, scanning the man from top to bottom. 

Tobirama merely stared back at her hatefully, much like a lion in a zoo, eyeing a bunch of children who insisted on poking their fingers through the bars in his cage.

“Well, isn’t he a ray of sunshine?” Ino said jovially, turning back to Sakura.  “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually preferred Itachi.”
“Yeah, at least he had no attitude,” Sakura agreed. 

“Bit creepy, though,” Ino commented, picking up some of the rubble lying around and sorting through it. “I don’t really dig the whole clan-murderer vibe he’s got going on.”

“Clan murderer?” Tobirama interrupted. “Who–?”

“None of your business,” Sakura hissed, turning to glare at him. As far as she was concerned, Tobirama was the one at fault for the massacre, for the things Itachi had been forced to do… If anyone was the mass-murderer, it was him.

Tobirama glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You expect me to cooperate and yet you won’t even reveal basic information?”

“I don’t expect anything, Senju,” Sakura said lightly. “You will obey me, because you have been summoned by me. That’s it.”

“Whoa, guys, chill – both of you,” Ino cut in. She dragged Sakura to a corner of the room and began to whisper hastily in her ear: “Forehead, I thought I told you to summon the nidaime to help you with your research?”

“Yes, and so I did.”

“So you did not –” Tobirama spat, having heard them somehow.

Enough!

At a thought from her, his teeth clamped shut together as she exerted her control over him. It was odd, she felt it much more clearly than when she’d summoned Itachi. Somehow, the knowledge was there that she could control him.

“Forehead?” Ino arched an eyebrow. “What was he about to say?”

“Nothing, Ino.”

“Forehead… the point of summoning the guy was to actually accept his help. Not just to keep him here for shits and giggles.”

Sakura glared at her. “Well, I never said I wouldn’t accept his help.” Not that he’d offered it…

“Doesn’t sound to me like you would. You want to be the only one to take the credit.”

“That’s not true,” Sakura hissed.

“Forehead, I know you,” Ino said with an eye roll. “Don’t think I don’t. I know you want to do this alone, and not just for the credit, since you won’t be getting any of that. You think it’s some sort of intelligence challenge and that you need to do it alone for it to count. But guess what? Tobirama already invented the edo tensei anyway. You’d have to split the credit for that with him even if you did all the rest on your own. So why not accept his help?”

Sakura glared at Ino irritably. Yes, yes. She’d just pretend to accept it so she’d leave.

“Sure, Ino.”

“Forehead, don’t you lie to me! Let him talk so we can hear what he has to say!”

Sakura sighed and undid the control she had over Tobirama’s mouth. Contrary to what she’d expected, he didn’t immediately open said mouth to insult them. Merely, he just stared at them both through narrowed eyes.

“What is this research you keep mentioning?” he demanded at last.

“Forehead’s working on a pure world reincarnation. Basically a resurrection that isn’t as shitty as your version.”

Tobirama scoffed. “That’s a pipe dream.”

“It’s not,” Sakura cut in, now irritated he was questioning the viability of her project. “I almost succeeded just a few weeks ago.”
Ino coughed awkwardly behind her.

“Oh, did you really?” Tobirama asked sarcastically. “Then, do tell, why does this place look like a disaster zone? I imagine this is the ‘site’ of your so-called experiment?”

“Yes, it is indeed the site,” Sakura ground out acerbically. “And I’m telling you it almost worked.”

“Foolishness.”

Sakura turned back around to stare at Ino pleadingly.  See what he’s like? Please don’t make me deal with this guy on a daily basis… Please, Ino…

“Nidaime-sama,” Ino cut in. “Remind me again – how many years did you spend trying to fine tune the edo tensei into a functional reanimation technique? A Pure World Resurrection?”

Tobirama glared darkly at her.

“I imagine too long for it not to be embarrassing,” Sakura said under her breath. 

From the vicious glare she got, he’d heard anyway.

“Nidaime-sama, here’s your chance to finally invent the true reincarnation,” Ino continued. “Are there, perhaps, any people you’d want brought back? If this works out… and I promise you, with our advanced and modern sciences, we’re very  close… if this works out, then, wouldn’t you like to have a deal in place so that certain people of your choice will get reincarnated?”

Tobirama stared at her with a frown. “I want to see what you’ve done so far.” 

Sakura realized belatedly that he was looking at her. “Er. Right,” she muttered unenthusiastically. Leave it to Ino to get through to anyone. She shuffled over to her desk – which was still toppled  in a corner of the room – and in one fluid movement, picked it up, placed it back on the floor, and opened the drawer to retrieve her research scrolls.

“Alright, so this is my interpretation of The Scroll of the Dead,” Sakura began, passing her painfully scrounged together notes over to him. “Then here are my findings in regards to the concept of the soul” – she passed him a rather measly scroll – “and this is my research on restoring the spirit.” Finally, she dumped the thickest binder on the desk in front of him, resulting in a dull clank.

You’d think that Tobirama, having utterly failed at restoring the spirit, would be more interested in looking at that binder first. But no, instead, he opened the notes she’d taken relating basically all of his prior discoveries as she understood them –  and proceeded to leaf through them breezily.

“A memory matrix?” He raised a brow at her. “Don’t make me laugh. What even is that? Do you know what matrices are? This is basic mathematics.”

Sakura fumed in silence as he continued criticking – well, apparently everything he could find worth criticking. Ino merely stared between them, arms crossed, but Tobirama had sat down on one of her chairs as if he owned the place, lazily passing the meticulously compiled pages of notes she’d written about his Treatise of the Dead.

“You actually attempted to shove a heart into a corpse? Does the meaning of metaphors escape you?” he sneered.

At this point, Sakura also sat down in another chair across from him. Maybe with the table between them, she’d managed to contain her urge to sock him.

Tobirama continued passing pages. Apparently, not even her writing passed muster. “What is this kanji? What were you even trying to spell?”

Sakura snatched up her notes to look at it. “Dust,” she snapped. “The spelling’s probably changed since you were around.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Tobirama remarked, snatching her notes back unceremoniously. Sakura could only glare as he settled back into his chair. He continued with his criticking fest. Nothing was up to par with his grandiose standards: not her handwriting, nor the clarity of her scant equations, and in fact, not even the quantity – according to him, she should’ve copied down the entire physical-mathematical demonstrations for the formulas he’d come up with.

“I’m a medic, not a physicist,” Sakura snapped irritably. “You already solved those equations, so why do I have to?”

Cue eye roll. And more criticism.  They went over Sakura’s many unending faults for at least twenty more minutes. Tobirama’s personal favorite? “You completely misunderstood what I meant by progressive restoration of the soul. What did you think it is? A painting in a museum?”

He sounded  unbearably smug about this fact.

Sakura glared at him with her arms crossed from across her table. 

Deep breaths, Sakura. Deep breaths.

“Well, did you read the conclusion, or did that escape your notice?” she said slowly, trying and failing to keep the bite out of her tone. “I realized my own unforgivable ignorance and decided to just adapt your technique to suit my purposes, rather than recreate its mathematical background.”

“You can’t adapt a technique you don’t understand down to its core mechanics,” Tobirama said askance. “No wonder it blew up in your face. What exactly did you try to do?”

“I prepared a body,” Sakura said, finally content to be able to speak of what she had gotten right, “which matched the subject’s down to a molecular level. Are you familiar with DNA hybridisation technologies?”

Tobirama stared at her blankly.

Sakura smirked. “I didn’t think so. Well, it would take too long to explain, but let us just say that the body was prepared to perfection. It matched the soul exactly.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” Tobirama repeated in a tone that informed her he very clearly didn’t. “What then? You realize you’d get nowhere without the spirit?”

“Well, as it just so happens,” Sakura said coldly, grabbing the humongous tome containing her research on the spirit, “I have put considerable more effort into that aspect of the research.”

She slammed the tome down in front of him.

“Oh?” Tobirama raised adelicate white brow.

“I summoned my subject’s impure reincarnation using your jutsu in order to obtain the soul and then I had Ino here transfer his soul into the body – and then I added the spirit, which is when the reaction curve grew out of control and – backfired.”

“You tried to do the three steps separately?” Tobirama asked askance.

It seemed that was the only tone of voice he could speak with. “Yes, so?”

“Are you stupid? You must do all of the steps at the same time or the reaction will backfire. DIdn’t you read anything I said on my treatise on The Reaction Kinetics of Death?”

“No,” Sakura snapped. “I didn’t read that.”

“Well, you should have known anyway from the clap at the end of the edo tensei handsign sequence. You think I added a clap just for the merriment of it?”

“...no?”

“No,” Tobirama rolled his eyes as if she were a great nuisance. “No indeed.”

“Okay, so… why did you add the clap?” Sakura asked through gritted teeth.

“To diffuse all the frequencies from the handsigns together into one vibrational frequency,” Tobirama said, shaking his head at her.

“So… are you going to help, then?” Ino cut in hopefully.

He stood from the table. “Forget it. She doesn’t know anything. You two couldn’t complete my jutsu on your own in a million years.”

Sakura’s blood was boiling at this point. She stood from her own chair, too. “What, you think I didn’t notice you ignoring the other two parts of the triphasic method your technique sucks at? I may not fully understand the principles of the soul, but I was able to restore the body and the spirit perfectly–”

“The spirit is impossible to obtain,” Tobirama cut her off archly. “Do you even understand what I meant by spirit or did you just try to shove a bedsheet with two holes into the corpse?”

“Wh-what?” Sakura said, staring at him in confusion. “A bedsheet…?”

“I think he means like a ghost costume,” Ino chimed in. “Er, a spirit in the literal sense.”

Sakura’s eyebrow twitched. “Why would I try to shove a  bedsheet with holes into Uchiha Itachi’s corpse?!” she screeched, repressing the strong urge to sock Tobirama.  “What kind of idiot do you think I am?! I’m telling you, I mastered the spirit!”

“A likely story!”

“It fucking is! Read my binder if you don’t believe me!”

Tobirama glanced askance at the heavy tome of notes all stacked together. “A waste of time. I’d no doubt be forced to endure–”

“That’s it, ” Sakura snapped, turning away from him. “Ino, you talk to him if you like, I’m going home. I need some sleep.”

“Okay, Forehead.” Ino gave her a weak smile. “Sleep well.”

So… she’s staying behind to try and convince this despot? Well, good luck with that, Pig.

Sakura scoffed at Tobirama. “And you – you’re forbidden from leaving this room until I come back.” Which… was not going to be soon, since she was restarting her classes at the Academy tomorrow. “You’re forbidden from doing anything to break the contents of the room, the walls and ceiling of the room, or the structural integrity of the building in general,” Sakura rattled off, remembering how Sasuke had told her and Naruto that the nidaime had used his pinky finger to ‘punch’ a hole in a wall as some sort of peacocking display when Orochimaru had summoned the kage during the war.

“You’re forbidden from stealing anything I own or doing anything to damage or sabotage my research or my samples–”

“As if I’d have any interest in that,” Tobirama scoffed.

That… that damned old goat! Sakura glared furiously  at the asshole.

“Fine. Grand. Peachy, then. I’m leaving!” she shouted, slamming the door behind herself.

Bastard.

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

Ino watched Forehead go with a shake of her head. She’d known the Billboard Brow would pull a fast one, or at least try, when it came to Tobirama, so she wasn’t surprised at her obvious attempt to convince him to just stick around without really helping her, or use Iwa’s war with Iron as an excuse to dispel the summons.

Sasuke had obviously filled Forehead’s head with ideas on how horrible Tobirama was. Which was hella inconvenient, if you asked Ino. Forehead was as good as Tsunade’s heir – the heir of the last Senju. You’d think that if anyone should respect the past Senju founders, it should be Forehead, but instead, she was completely on the Uchiha’s side of the argument. Combine all that with the fact that Forehead had a weird inferiority complex about her intelligence and that she absolutely hated people who made her feel stupid, then throw Tobirama himself into the equation, and you had a molotov cocktail right there.

Ino had to  admit that the man was annoying, but that was honestly at the very bottom of her list of priorities. Annoying or not, she needed to convince him to cooperate with Sakura’s research. And the best way to do that was to sell Tobirama on the idea. The man must’ve had a strong desire to see this technique perfected back during his life. If she could play  on that hope of his that it could be completed, then… Maybe…

“You know,” Ino said, leaning against the wall next to the table, “we’re not lying about the viability of this plan. I’m pretty sure Forehead isn’t kidding around when she says she’s discovered something huge.”

Tobirama didn’t even bother to look at her. He was staring obstinately out of the lab window, his arms crossed.

Ino sighed. She knew an unwilling listener when she saw one. Carefully, she took  a seat on the old chair Sakura had chosen previously, across from the nidaime, and braced her elbows on the table to look him straight in the eye. He hoped her gaze could transmit how earnest she was. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you we’re not acting against Konoha’s interests?”

Tobirama didn’t react to her for a long moment, but eventually he angled his head to look at her. “That woman – is she really Tsuna’s apprentice?”

Ino blinked at the non sequitur. “Yeah,” she said eventually. “Yeah, she is. You saw the byakugo on her forehead, right?”

Tobirama nodded, seeming thoughtful now. “I know my impure resurrection requires human sacrifices to reach the activation energy. Are you saying you received permission from Tsuna to go forward with this research?”

Ino bit her lip. “Tsunade’s stepped down as Hokage.”

“Irrelevant. Is the current Hokage endorsing your project then?”

“He helped Sakura set up the seals in the lab…” Ino hedged.

“And I take it he’s also helped with supplying you with a steady stream of human sacrifices, as well?” the nidaime asked sarcastically. 

Ino said nothing.

“I thought not.” Tobirama crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Where did you get the bodies?” His eyes were serious, almost chastising.

Ino licked her lips. “I… I have access to our prisoner supply. I only picked the ones beyond saving, morally speaking, or the ones that were slated for execution anyway…” She trailed off at Tobirama’s unimpressed look.

“Beyond saving according to what? That’s a slippery slope you’re on, Yamanaka. Moreover, who slates the human sacrifices for execution? You?”

Ino bristled. “My morals are rock solid! You think I’d send some innocent off to get killed just to get a test rat? We’ve more than enough rapists to do the job! Plus! You invented the edo tensei!” she accused. “You’re the one who thought of using human sacrifices in the first place! What makes us so much worse than you?”

Tobirama’s gaze was stony. “I started researching the edo tensei at the age of fifteen.”

“Okay, and?” Ino demanded.

The nidaime looked vaguely uncomfortable, his stance rigid. “Things were… different back then, as was I. Corpses were easy to come by during the war.” He closed his eyes. “It was a bleak world. And I learned my lesson.”

Ino eyed him carefully. “Are you saying you regret having researched immortality?”

Tobirama’s eyes opened, unreadable. “Yes.”

Ino chewed on her lip. This was bad news. If Tobirama truly was completely against the edo tensei now, then there was no way he’d cooperate. She needed to find out if there was still some part of the nidame that remembered that fifteen year old who started researching how to resurrect the dead, going against all social conventions.

She needed to push him to admit that there was still some part of him that wanted to succeed in his research. Ino bit her cheek and narrowed her eyes.  “Tobirama-sama… Why did you try to invent such a technique, if you believe it so amoral?”

“What I wanted to do with it wasn’t amoral, at its inception,”  Tobirama said coldly. “I planned to destroy every trace of the existence of my jutsu once I’d accomplished my goal.”

“Oh? And what changed?”

“I realized I was deluding myself,” Tobirama said stonily. “Life after death is a perversion, not to mention a physical impossibility. To go against that is to go against all laws of the known universe. The price is too high.”

“And yet you created a technique that involved a human sacrifice.”

“My technique was never finished,” Tobirama said. “I was prepared to trade a life for a life to get what I wanted, I admit, but the edo tensei never truly accomplished that. It could only summon back projections of what  had once been, shadows which could neither evolve, nor change, nor die, and therefore, not live.”

“But what if you’d succeeded?” Ino insisted.

“I wouldn’t have. The price of my research was too great to continue. And I don’t just speak of the human sacrifices.”

Ino leaned in, eyes wide. “What was it? What price did you pay?”

Tobirama crossed his arms and looked away. “Suffice to say, the sacrifice isn’t worth it. You were right to force your friend to summon me. This research needs to stop.”

Ino bit her lip. “But if you already paid such a steep price… whatever it was that you sacrificed… wouldn’t it be fair it to get something in return? Something that made it all worth it?”

“It is impossible,” Tobirama countered coldly. “I already  did all I could and more. There is nothing left.”

“Maybe so,” Ino agreed. “But you lived in another time. The world has changed since the worrying states era.”

“I know enough about how the world has changed ,” Tobirama said cuttingly. “Orochimaru, who too had the kindness to summon me for ‘help’, was also in pursuit of life after death. I know all about his lab and the dead children in it. I know all about how he perverted my misbegotten jutsu for his sick delusions to destroy Konoha… and then, later, how Uchiha Madara did the same on a larger scale.” Tobirama paused, his voice harsh. “Do you truly believe I don’t understand all the damage my jutsu has caused? How could you think I would support you in perpetuating this cycle?”

Ino felt like a chastised child in that moment. She understood Tobirama’s point. Truly, she did. But he didn’t understand hers. He didn’t understand that it was possible for Sakura to succeed. He didn’t know Sakura like Ino did, didn’t grasp the extent of her brilliance. But if he were to… was there a chance he could be convinced to help?

“Look – I believe what was missing in your attempt to bring back the dead was medical ninjutsu – you know: the branch Tsunade invented? Automated healing?”

Tobirama frowned. “I saw some displays during the fourth war.”

“Yes, well, medical ninjutsu is what Sakura excels at,” Ino explained. “It literally deals with cheating death. Don’t tell me that’s not promising?”

Tobirama looked dubious.

“I’m serious!” Ino insisted. “If you don’t believe in Sakura, then at least believe in Tsunade! They call Sakura the second Tsunade out there, a member of the neo-sannin. She’s taken Tsunade’s life's work and dug deep into the meat of it.” 

“Meaning?”

Ino frowned. “Well… from what I understand, Tsunade herself focused on practical applications – she came up with a way to use chakra to stimulate cell replication, and medical ninjutsu just grew from there. Tsunade’s work mostly centers around solving a problem with chakra. For example, most field medic’s approach to malfunctioning tissue is to destroy the part that’s not working and stimulate the still healthy cells into reproducing, so as to replace what was destroyed. That works most of the time, except if all of the tissue is malfunctioning, then it cannot be replaced. That’s the crevice Sakura focused on. She’s all about understanding diseases – uprooting them before they can even become a problem, countering them from the source rather than the ripples.”

“Uh-huh.” Tobirama said. “That’s nice. A decent way of avoiding death. Even supposing I believe you in your claims that medical ninjutsu might unveil the key to a perfect resurrection, the science of Raising the Dead is a foul craft. One I don’t wish to ever get involved in again.”

He was being stubborn. Ino sighed. “Look. Just… just answer me this,” she said. “I understand your reservations.  I do – better than most, considering how I lost my dad and my sensei to the war and the Akatsuki, both of them Madara’s puppets. But… it was also thanks to the edo tensei that you and the other Hokage and Itachi were able to help in the war.”

“It was my justu’s fault that the war was even possible,” Tobirama replied.

“A jutsu is just a tool!” Ino exclaimed. “It depends upon those who wield it to decide its nature. You call resurrection a foul craft, but that  only applies  if it is incomplete – if it brings back those zombified creatures. Tobirama-sama –  we’ve experienced true resurrection before. After the Pain massacre, a man with the Rinnegan brought back thousands of fallen shinobi in one fell swoop. The medical ninja Chiyo used a jutsu to trade her life for Gaara’s, resurrecting him as well.”

Tobirama’s eyebrow rose. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Ino exclaimed. “I’m telling you, it’s been done before. It’s possible . Now imagine for a moment that your family were brought back to you right now, as alive as when you first knew them. Would it be worth it, then? The war? Orochimaru, Obito, Madara… would it have been worth it?”

Tobirama said nothing, his lips slightly parted as though he meant to refute her point, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Ino smiled.

Got you.

“That is just hypothetical,” he said eventually, his eyes avoiding hers. “Such a scenario could never happen.”

Now’s your chance, Ino thought. “It could. And I’ll prove it.” Wait here. I’ll bring you some stuff.”  

Tobirama didn’t react to her words, but Ino already had a plan.

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

Tanzaku Gai was a three hour run from Konoha at ANBU pace. With her job as T&I director, Ino didn’t take that many field missions, so it took her almost five full hours to get there, and she was entirely too sweaty. But the letter said it was here -  the building in which Sakura had hidden them.

Forehead’s family was... in many ways, it was a mystery. She refused to talk about it, and hard as Ino had tried to understand their dynamics, there were many things about the family Ino still didn't know. For instance, she hadn't known Haruno Mebuki was born a Shindo - thought it certainly  explained a lot. There was something about them that was not normal. 

Ino had been aware of that much for a long time, practically since she was six, but it wasn’t until Uchiha Itachi had mentioned that Sakura was a Shindo on her mother’s side – and that they owned a hotel – that a lot of things had clicked. 

Ino’s sources weren’t even capable of telling her how much capital the Shindo family owned, but it had become  clear in recent years, after a lot of digging, that the mastermind (and wallet) behind the recently formed Senzu Casino empire were actually Shindo Hotel Groups – which, loo and behold, apparently Sakura shared a surname with! Coincidence? Ino didn’t think so, even if there was nothing to link Sakura with the Shindos other than Itachi’s careless remark.

But now, with Itachi’s stray comment about how Sakura was related to the Shindo family… Ino couldn’t help but think that perhaps the Harunos’ reach extended way beyond what Ino had thought possible. 

Now, as Ino stepped into the estate mentioned in Sakura’s letter, she was  greeted by the staggering display of opulence presented by the traditional-style building, with the same impeccable appearance and the same hustle and bustle of activity as last time. There was nothing to mark this place as belonging to the Shindos… but it had to. That was the only explanation. Ino knew nothing of this building except what Sakura had written in the letter…  but the letter couldn’t have done it justice.

The letter… Ino pulled it out of her pocket to stare at it warily. 

Open only if I die.

She’d been seventeen and scared shitless, when Sakura had first given her this letter. 

“I… I failed to master senjutsu, Ino,” she’d  said quietly, after hours and hours of sitting numbly at Ino’s side while Ino braided her hair. The letter sat in Sakura’s lap. Back then, Ino hadn’t realized what it was for.

“Oh, Forehead… you can tell me. What happened?” Ino had asked, carding a soft hand through her locks.

“Katsuyu told me in the middle of my meditation to… to just leave, because I wasn’t cut out for it.”

She didn’t  cry, but Ino could sense that Sakura would’ve cried about this alone, by herself, when it happened.

“I’m so sorry, Forehead… Katsuyu is an idiot.”

“No, Ino, she’s not… she was so kind about it too,” Sakura said weakly. “I could tell it was hurting her to kick me out of Shikkotsu forest… but she did. She told me to leave. Because I’m not worthy.”

“Shhh…” Ino carded her hands through her hair. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“N-no.” Sakura’s shoulders had shaken with suppressed sobs. “How will I make a difference like this? Naruto is so much more… If I’m not a Sage, I won’t be able to do anything, I…”

“Sakura. You will. You’ve trained for so long. You beat Sasori. You–”

Sakura shook her head slowly. Her dull greens rose to meet Ino’s eyes, and suddenly she was pressing the letter into Ino’s chest. 

 “There’s a room. In my nana’s estate. I built it.”

Ino blinked at the non sequitur. “Your grandma’s estate ?”

“Yes,” Sakura swiped at her eyes. “There’s a room there where I keep all my research and my… my books. Ino, if… if something happens to me during the war, will you go there and pick my things up?”

“Forehead–” Ino choked out.

“Please. Please just promise me, Ino. Promise me you’ll go. I’ve already written my will about how to distribute all those things, but no one knows where they are. Some of them contain knowledge too dangerous to be left there… they’ll need to be burnt.”

“But Forehead, what if I die too?” Ino had asked weakly.

“Consider this extra motivation not to.”

As it had turned out, even back then, Sakura had been a paranoid little shit. She had stored most of her life’s research in a hidden room in the cellar of the estate. It was a room not even her parents or grandparents knew about. Only Ino, through the letter. Who knew how much stuff she’d have stored in there?

One thing was clear: if Sakura found out she’d broken into her secret room before her death, there would be hell to pay. But… Ino thought of Itachi’s failed resurrection. The fear she’d felt when the cracks had started to form in the floor, when the bright light had surged forth, when Sakura had been trust back as if by a tidal wave…

No. Sakura could not be left to research death alone. And Ino knew: come hell or high water, there was no stopping Forehead now. She’d continue her research even if Ino tattled.

So… only one option remained.

Tobirama had to help. Sakura might get herself killed if she continued to work on the project by herself. Not, it would be safer to get someone who could really help aboard. It didn’t matter if this was a breach of trust – she needed to persuade Tobirama to help no matter what – and considering how sexist men had used to be during the founders’ era, Ino had a sneaking suspicion that she’d need something major to convince the Second Hokage that not only was Forehead his intellectual peer, but also capable of finishing the completion of a technique he was never able to. For someone as prideful as Tobirama, it would probably take something major to convince him.

Luckily, Tobirama seemed to be a man of science, a man of facts. The fact that he didn’t operate on his emotions as much as logic should mean that he could be convinced to see the genius in Sakura’s idea. The only problem? Sakura was entirely too secretive where her research was concerned – which was why Ino would need to steal said research and show it to Tobirama in order to prove to the man that when Sakura said ‘bringing back the dead is feasible’, she really wasn’t kidding around.

And hopefully, as someone who had also been secretive about his own research (if unsuccessfully so), Tobirama would know how valuable what Ino intended to show him really was.

As she entered the estate, disguised as a worker like Sakura’s letter instructed, Ino politely greeted some of the workers as she advanced deeper into the mammoth mansion. It was midday now. She needed to hurry so she could make it back to Konoha before dark.

Ino had just ducked into a hall – she was still trying to find her way – when she saw a strange man ascending a nearby staircase. Dark-haired and a veritable muscle wall, he had a faint imprint  of ink which disappeared into his suit collar,  suggesting a back tattoo ending at the nape. Ino tilted her head, staring after the man as he stoically ascended the stairs. She could sense no weapons on him, but his presence was powerful, something about his gait dangerous, even though he was dressed like a civilian. Who was he?

At that moment, the man turned, but she was gone before he could see her.

Focus! Ino told herself. Who knew  what sort of people were invited to the Shindo estate? It was none of her business. She had to get back to Tobirama before Sakura could do something to put him off helping  her even more.

Crossing the final hallway that led to the staff kitchens, Ino opened a door and ducked past the personnel, finally finding the entrance into a supply closet, and from there, into the hidden cellar. After some minutes of walking around, she finally remembered where the hidden door was and successfully opened it with the mechanism.

The small storage unit was nothing much, just an assortment of tomes and scrolls all neatly arranged in some shelves. There were too many to carefully sort through them. Ino just dumped them all into her special storage scroll and hastily left the cellar.

She had to make another detour to avoid another group of suspicious characters on her way out, but then she was finally back on the road again and en route Konoha.

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

Getting back into Sakura’s lab was an absolute pain, what with all the suiting up she had to do, but finally, Ino was back. Tobirama raised his head to stare at her as she came in. He was hunched on the same chairs he’d left him at, though the binder book Sakura had wanted him to read was suspiciously close to him on the table.

Ino internally smirked.  “Enjoying the read, Tobirama-sama?”

The nidaime said nothing, but his eyes narrowed in warning. Ino merely smiled.

Walking to a corner of the lab, she carefully unsealed the scroll, all of the contents  of Sakura’s secret storage room pouring out. Ino scanned over them again to make sure there was nothing embarrassing or private, but it was all just scrolls upon scrolls of Sakura’s scribbles. Nothing to worry about then.

“What is that?” asked the nidaime from his chair. He looked like he wanted to step closer but was refusing to out of pride.

Well, Ino could work with that. “Oh, just some of the contents of Forehead’s secret storage unit. Consider it a peace offering.”

Tobirama raised a brow. “A peace offering?”

“It seems to me like you needed some persuading regarding the feasibility of this project,” Ino said with a smile. “Well – there’s your persuasion.”

Finally, Tobirama got up from his chair and walked closer. “What are these?” he bent over the tomes and scrolls as if observing a dead bird’s corpse.

“Forehead’s a scientist, just like you,” Ino said. “Unlike you, though, she was successful in keeping most of her research to herself. She is extremely neurotic about who gets to see her experiments – I believe she’s only  published a fraction of them.” She bent down to sort through the tomes, finally finding a series of bound books and medical journals.

“See these?” Ino asked, lifting one of them.

Tobirama nodded suspiciously.

“I imagine these things did not exist in your time,” Ino said, “but these are medical publications, Tobirama-sama. Usually, researchers send their articles to different specialized magazines, where a committee of experts decides whether the magazine will publish the article or not. Of course, as with all things, not all publications were created equal.”

Tobirama snorted. “Some magazines are harder to get into than others?”

“Yeah, and some research articles have more citations than others, as well,” Ino confirmed. “You could say that the quality of a researcher’s work can be gauged pretty accurately by  how much they publish, and where . The number of citations is also a very important indicator.”

“How interesting.” Tobirama, for once, sounded contemplative rather than derisive. “Is this the standard for  how these things go now?”

Ino nodded, smiling at him in relief. He was opening up. “Yeah, pretty much.” She fished out some of the magazines featuring articles Forehead had published. “The high profile magazines always send the researcher  a copy of the issue with their article.” She grabbed one magazine at random, labeled ‘Science’ , and leafed through it lazily, searching for Sakura’s name on it. She found it a couple pages in under Dr. S. Haruno.

“Here it is. See? That’s Sakura’s.”

“The woman I saw earlier;” Tobirama noted.

“Yes. Her.”

“I thought you said she didn’t publish much,” Tobirama said with a frown, taking the magazine from her and scanning it, perfunctory.

“I… did, though there’s more magazines here than I expected,” Ino mumbled, scratching her hair. “I guess Forehead must’ve stopped telling me when she lands a publication. When did that happen?”

“So – has she published any of her research on my…?”

Ino was shaken from her thoughts by the edge to the nidaime’s voice. Tobirama looked tense, a heavy set to his shoulders.

“You mean  your work on the edo tensei?” she asked aghast.

Tobirama nodded.

“Heavens, no! She’d never publish that!” Ino exclaimed. A part of her was smug he’d looked so unsettled just now, though. Sakura’s understanding of the edo tensei must be pretty solid, after all, or Tobirama wouldn’t be so appalled at the prospect of her sharing her findings. His lookout on Sakura had clearly changed in the twelve-hour period Ino had left him alone.

Yeah, he’d definitely  been poking around Sakura’s notes.

“How do you know for sure?” Tobirama questioned with censure. “You just said the woman doesn’t tell you when she gets her research published.”

“Look,” Ino said, “What Sakura showed you earlier are all her notes on the edo tensei, and the two of us already agreed beforehand that we’d resurrect everyone as quietly and secretly as possible.”

“Everyone?” Tobirama echoed, eyes narrowed. 

“Well…” Ino dithered. “Yeah, everyone. You see, a lot has happened since your passing. There are four extinct clans now, and so many more who died that shouldn’t have…”

“So you’re saying this – Sakura – doesn’t want to resurrect someone close to her?” Tobirama asked. “She wants to do a mass resurrection? Preposterous!”

“Well, your clan’s one of the extinct ones, so maybe don’t talk like that?” Ino snapped.

That shut him up alright. Tobirama’s eyes narrowed slowly. “What do you mean, my clan is extinct? I recall seeing Tsuna during the war…”

“Yeah, and guess what? She’s the last Senju left in existence.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened at that. “No. Impossible.”

“It is entirely possible,” Ino countered. “Or can you sense any Senju here in Konoha with your chakra perception?”

Tobirama stared at her without reacting. Ino surmised he’d probably already noticed something was up with his clan, then.

“Tsuna is the last Senju?” he repeated eventually.  “No descendants?”

“None,” Ino confirmed. 

“What about Kato Dan? Weren’t they going to marry?”  

Ino just shrugged. “I don’t know who that is.”

Tobirama’s face had acquired a more ashen quality  now, if that was possible. “So – she has no one?”

“She’s got her two apprentices, but that’s about it,” Ino explained. “Kato Shizune and – well – Sakura.”

“The one I just met,” Tobirama said slowly.

“Yeah,” Ino replied.

“Kato Shizune – that’s obviously Dan’s relative,” the nidaime mused. “But who is Sakura?”

Ino shrugged. “She’s a civilian born. Haruno Sakura, Shindo on her mother’s side – you wouldn’t know of her lineage.”

Tobirama stared ahead unseeingly, as if there was a confusing puzzle he was trying to work out in his head. “And Haruno Sakura is planning on reviving my entire clan?”

“Not your entire clan,” Ino stressed, crossing her arms. “Just the people Tsunade used to love.”

Tobirama stared at her blankly for a while, his thoughts seeming to be far off. “I take it she hasn’t informed Tsuna of her plans.”

“She hasn’t,” Ino confirmed. “No one will be informed. We’re thinking that we’ll try to pass  it off as some miracle, kind of like something that happened some years ago – a Rinnegan was involved.”

Tobirama looked like he was thinking hard now, one hand pressed to his chin. “What other clans have gone extinct?”

“The Uchiha, the Uzumaki and the Hatake,” Ino rattled off.

Tobirama stared at her. “Haruno mentioned she was the teammate of Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke and the student of Senju Tsunade.”

“Yes, and Hatake Kakashi,” Ino added.

Tobirama just stared at her. “I thought you said they were extinct?”

“Believe it or not, they’re each the last members of their respective clans,” Ino said. 

Tobirama just stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was here. 

“Well,” Ino hedged nervously, “there are some Uzumaki left outside of Konoha, but essentially…”

“I sensed other Uchiha during the war.”

“Itachi, Obito and Madara,” Ino said with a shrug. “But Itachi and Madara were already dead by then – merely resurrections – and Obito followed suit. Only Sasuke remains.”

Tobirama seemed to have trouble wrapping his head around the concept still. “Alright, so you’re saying you two are planning to – what? Bring back four entire clans?”

“At least the people closest to Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi and Tsunade, yeah,” Ino confirmed, deciding to leave out the particulars of Sakura’s conversation with Itachi for now. Tobirama did not need to know that she was planning on bringing back Madara and his brother, as well.

Tobirama frowned. “How did all of these clans go extinct? I don’t understand…”

Ino flinched inwardly. Probably a pretty painful realization, that. She didn’t know what she’d do if she suddenly woke up to the news that her clan was gone.

“I… can bring you a history book tomorrow, if you like, Tobirama-sama. It’s one in the morning right now, though...”

Tobirama nodded, though his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

“What’s in it for you?” he asked eventually, turning to regard Ino calculatingly. 

“For me – my dad died. As well as my best friend’s dad, who was like my uncle… and my sensei…” Ino trailed off. 

“And you’d be willing to betray your best friends’ trust by breaking into her secret jutsu notes, and then, without telling her,  showing me her research, just to gain my support? Excuse me if this seems more like a set up.”

Ino frowned. “It’s not. Look, Sakura will kill me if she finds out I borrowed her secret notes, its true. But if I let her keep researching all alone, she might kill herself  If you don’t believe me, believe this damned letter! Look.” She pulled the old, weathered envelope with instructions to get to her secret cellar, that had somehow survived the war in the breast pocket of her jonin jacket. 

Tobirama took the letter gingerly and skimmed it.

“Can’t fake the age and blood stains on this thing,” Ino declared, watching him read.

He still looked unconvinced. “If this is all true, and this Haruno is as brilliant as you claim… Why do you need me? You evidently have this all planned out – and Haruno insisted she has no interest in my assistance.”

Ino bit her lip. “I just told you! And you said it yourself: this lab looks like a war zone. I just… I’m worried she’ll get herself killed with these experiments. They’re… too dangerous. But I know she won’t stop, no matter what I tell her.”

Tobirama frowned at her. “Why not? Why not stop?”

Ino shrugged. “Stubbornness, I suppose.”

“I don’t understand. What’s in it for Haruno?” Tobirama asked. “She belongs to neither of the extinct clans… she claims not to want to bring back any loved ones…?”

“Well, Sakura’s official answer is that she’s doing this as a gift to her loved ones,” Ino said with a shrug. “Talk about an over-the-top love language!”

Her attempt at cheer fell flat; Tobirama was just staring at her.

“Er,” Ino said uneasily. “That’s it.”

“That can’t be it.”

“Well, maybe she’s doing it for science, then?” Ino asked, glancing back at the journals at their feet. 

Tobirama frowned. “I see,” he said mildly, in a voice that said clearly he didn’t. 

Ino didn’t know what to make of that tone. Tobirama picked up a magazine up from the floor and inspected it. “How would I know any of this is real? You could’ve just made this all up to trick me. I’ve no background knowledge, Haruno forbade me from going outside….”

Ino shrugged apologetically, recalling how Sakura had mocked Tobirama earlier for not knowing what molecular hybridization techniques were. Maybe that was why he’d been so unpleasant earlier: he also didn’t like to have his intelligence questioned.

“Ah, I can bring you some books on medicine and biology tomorrow, if you like.”

“I’d also like a copy of the most prevalent issues of each research magazine on the market,” Tobirama said.

“You know that’s gonna cost a fortune, right?” Ino questioned. Wait, she was pretty sure Sakura had a lot of those magazines  at her place. “Never mind.”

Tobirama nodded at her. “Well then,” he said serenely. “You’ve given me much to think about. Thank you for taking the time for clarifying things for me, Yamanaka.”

Ino blinked in surprise. “Oh, ah, no problem.”

“I’m not saying that I will agree to help you,” Tobirama added pointedly, returning the magazine to its former place. “I like you well enough, but your friend’s character seems rather suspect.”

“You mean Sakura’s?” Ino asked.

“Who else?” Tobirama crossed his arms. “Her motives are untransparent.”

Ino frowned. To you, maybe.

Ino had known Sakura for a long time. They had met when they were six years old and today was Sakura’s twenty-eighth birthday.  They had been best friends, embittered rivals and then sisters during those twenty-two years. Ino knew Sakura. She had seen her at her best and at her worst; at her shyest and at her most daring, at her wittiest and at her blandest. She had been there to celebrate at the high points and she had bled with her in the trenches. She could tell what Sakura was thinking just by looking at her sometimes, seeing certain expressions on her face…  

It was really incredible, if she thought about it. She had known Sakura for such a long time… she knew now, for example, that there was a reason why gifts were so special to Sakura, knew that she expressed herself through them, expressed what she couldn’t, perhaps, say.

Ino sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Ino could’ve explained Sakura’s reasons, could’ve explained why she was the way she was, but that would have been going too far. It was one thing to let Tobirama see Sakura’s secret notes so he’d realize how smart and capable she was, but it was an entirely different matter to air out Sakura’s dirty laundry to the nidaime’s face—dirty laundry Sakura still insisted on pretending didn’t exist.

“You  know, nidaime-sama, I’m the head of Intelligence here in Konoha,” Ino said by way of explanation. “I think I’d know if my best friend was plotting something nefarious.”

Predictably, Tobirama wasn’t convinced by this. The man shook his head. “You’re entirely biased in this regard, Yamanaka. You’ve got a lot on the line to see this succeed: as you just admitted, Haruno is your best friend, and she has promised to bring back your late father and sensei.”

“Well… yeah, but…”

“No buts. I hope you understand why I can’t just take your word for it when you vouch for Haruno’s character.”

Ino nodded reluctantly. 

“I appreciate your bringing me these notes of hers, though,” Tobirama added. “With any luck, there’s a diary, or something to help me gain some insight  into her person.”

There wasn’t, but Ino decided not to tell him. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I know you zombies don’t need sleep, but I sure do.”

Tobirama nodded. “I understand. Please inform Haruno that I don’t wish to see her for now.”

Eh? “You… don’t?”

“Not until I have a clearer stance on what to do.”

Ino nodded tentatively. At least that wasn’t an outright no. “So… you’ll think about whether you’ll help us with the research?”

“I’ll think about it,” Tobirama confirmed. “But no promises.”

“Okay… thanks.” She supposed his caution made sense. 

“Will you tell Haruno that I need some time to think about it?” Tobirama asked.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll relay it. I think she said something about not being able to work in the lab until the radioactivity disappears, anyway, so you should have some time to yourself till she decides she wants to come back.”

Tobirama nodded thoughtfully. “Well then. It was nice making your acquaintance…?”

“Ino.”

“Ino.” Tobirama picked up some of the research scrolls lying around. “I’ll take good care of these, and I won’t mention I read them if you don’t,” he added with something like a smirk.

Ino smiled despite herself and shook her head. “Likewise an honour to meet you, Tobirama-sama. I only wish the circumstances had been more pleasant. I’m sorry for any hostility you may have sensed from Sakura earlier. She means well, I promise.”

“Hm. That remains to be seen.”

TWO years ONE month Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years THREE weeks Before YANAGI  

Sakura sipped her coffee in the early morning hours. Her bare feet brushed against the wooden boards of her windowsill, the breeze pleasant against her hair. It was six in the morning, but she hadn’t been able to sleep, so she’d stayed up all night, thinking about  her research, doing some paperwork for the business, answering letters, the usual. She was tired, yes, but also too restless to go to bed. The encounter with the nidaime had somehow increased her nerves too much to sleep now.

What a fucking…

“Ugh.” She rubbed her temples and stood up from the window sill. She was the teacher in charge of unlocking the Academy building in the early mornings and doing the initial check for any bombs or chemical agents someone looking to do damage might have snuck in during the night, so she needed to get there soon. Sakura didn’t mind it. The morning walk through the empty classrooms was actually one of her favorite parts of the day.

The sun was starting to rise as Sakura got to the dark building, unlocking the doors with the special seal and keys. The nidaime had made these, in his time, and they still held. How annoying of her brain to remind her of this now.

Sakura’s day began as it ever did – with screaming brats and yawning colleagues. If anyone had told Sakura as a kid that half of her teachers were party animals who routinely arrived to class hungover, she’d have never believed them. Alas… shinobi were made of harder stuff, and Academy teachers more so than most. Apparently, Iruka’s parties had been legendary in his time. The man was in his forties now, though, so he’d started to calm down a little.

“Hey, Saks,” he greeted happily, handing her a cup of coffee with a brilliant smile. “Morning!”

“Thanks.” Sakura accepted the coffee with a happy grin. The beverage was warm. Iruka was so kind. She always ended up having a cup too much whenever Iruka brought her one (this always happened sporadically) – but it was just the thought that counted. He was a kind man.

“Did you have water yet? It’ll help with the hangover.”

Iruka blinked at her. “How did you know…?”

You only call me Saks after a night out partying… possibly with Naruto and friends. 

“That you’re hungover?” Sakura smiled, tapping her head mysteriously. “Mind reading powers, of course.”

Iruka chuckled and snorted. “Well… you know, if you happened to feel like helping me with my headache a little, I wouldn’t object…”

Sakura laughed and shook her head in amusement. “Fine, come here.”

It turned out that her TA, the recently  arrived Minamoto Shizuo, had also gone partying, but at least he  knew medical ninjutsu, so he could heal his own damn hangover.

“Sakura-san…” he complained. “Can we put on one of the tapes today… please?” 

“No, Minamoto. No, we cannot.”

Her day advanced at a snail’s pace until lunch as she pondered what to do once she could leave work. She knew she’d  have to go back to the lab to talk to Tobirama, but she really, really didn’t want to. Damn the jerk.

To distract herself from her thoughts, she ended up caving in to Minamoto’s pleading and approving an independent study period while she worked on her story. It’d been a while since she’d gotten a chance to write and she’d kinda missed it.

Tsubaki gripped the edge of the blade and sunk it into her palm. She raised her chin to stare the Taiko down as she did. “Do you believe me now, father? It’s me. I’m Junko.” 

Her voice was cold, as red blood dropped down her arm and unto the palace floor. “The blood that flows through our veins is the same. You are my kin, as I am yours.”

The Taiko stared at her for a moment, then closed his eyes with a sigh. “Aren,” he called. 

“Yes, Makunaoichi-sama?” One of his guards stepped forward, tall and with languid movements, like a cat. 

“Go with this woman to the blood analysts. Have them see if she’s telling the truth.”

Tsubaki presented her bloody palm to him. “Aren, is it?”

“Yes, my lady,” the samurai said, meeting her gaze evenly. 

Her blood continued to dribble  to the floor. Tsubaki paid it no heed.

“Are you prepared to die in service of your Lord, Aren?”

“Of course.”

“And…” Tsubaki grinned, passing her ritual knife over to him, “what about me?”

“That depends on if you’re lying or not.”

A smile split over her lips. “I suppose you must’ve seen your fair share of Junko wannabes.”

“More than.”

“It is true that Junko isn’t a name I’m used to. I was found as a child in the middle of a snow storm, alone and about to freeze to death. I was quiet. It’s a miracle they found me, because I’m told I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream for help… if that merchant cart hadn’t gotten stuck in the snow…”

“Get to the point.”

“The man who found me asked me my name, but I did not answer, allegedly. I’ve no memory of that day, so I wouldn’t know. For that reason, he called me Shizuka, the silent  one. That is why I am not used to Junko. For most of my life I’ve been someone else… but the name always felt wrong. Father,” she turned to the Taiko once more, “I beg you to believe me–”

 

“Sakura-san, what’s that?”

Sakura flinched violently at her TA’s sudden voice. And the more sudden realization that he’d been peering over her shoulder.

She hastily snatched her manuscript away from his prying eyes. “N-nothing.”

A slow smile was beginning to form on his lips. “You write books?” he whispered.

“I do not. ”

“You do! I just saw it! Come on, let me read!”

“No,” Sakura snapped.

“But it was good! It was really good! Come on, let me–”

“I said no, Minamoto.”

Minamoto paused to regard her for a moment, then his smile turned sly. “That was Icha Icha, wasn’t it?”

Sakura froze. “E-eh?”

Minamoto scratched his neck. “I’ve read the books. I recognize the names. That was King Makunaochi and his special op agent, Aren… isn’t that the enemy kingdom in Icha Icha? The one Junko infiltrates.”

Sakura gripped the edge of the table nervously. Damn it. She’d been caught. She’d thought Minamoto was too hungover to pay attention, but apparently not. As if her day could get any worse…

“Come on, can I read it? It seemed so interesting! Who was that Tsubaki character they were talking to?”

Sakura crossed her arms. “Nobody. Just some character I made up. Seriously, leave it alone, Minamoto.”

“But Sakura-san! I’m a big fan! Please, let me have a look.”

“Absolutely not. There isn’t any smut, even. So.” She turned away.

“I don’t care!” Minamoto yelled, clasping her shoulder. Then, noticing he’d raised his voice, he ducked and continued more quietly. “Come on, any hardcore fan knows the porn’s just fan service!” he hissed urgently. “With Jiraiya-sensei gone, I’d take any spin offs… you know, there’s an entire market out there of people writing spin offs. Some of them are really good.”

“There is?” Sakura asked in surprise.

Minamoto nodded avidly. “I know some people who distribute the fan-made copies. You know, if you wanted, I could share your stuff with some contacts. You’d get paid for it, you’d get feedback if people like it, and it would be anonymous.”

Sakura pursed her lips thoughtfully, but then shook her head. “I already have all the money I need. Not worth it, Minamoto.”

“Oh, come on… Sakura-san!”

TWO years THREE weeks Before YANAGI

Half an hour later, during break, her TA was still whining at her to let her read the manuscript when Ino suddenly appeared.

“Am I interrupting something?” 

Sakura whirled around in surprise. The blonde was standing right there, in the Academy playground,  leaning against the old fence.

“Ino! What are you doing here?”

“Needed to talk to you about those dinner plans real quick.” Ine glanced at Minamoto. “Mind if I borrow her?”

“N-no, of course not.”

Sakura folded her arms together  as Ino dragged her towards an empty area. “You know you’re trespassing, right?”

“Oh, Forehead, honestly.” Ino rolled her eyes. “Your guest wanted me to relay a message. I came as soon as I had a break.”

Tobirama did? Sakura tensed. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about him all day, and just as she’d managed it... “What does he want?”

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

Sakura stared at Ino in confusion. “He what?”

“He wanted me to let you know that he needs some time to think about whether he’ll help or not,” Ino said with a shrug. “Figured you’d be glad for the reprieve too.”

How dare that bastard tell her what to do?

“He’s occupying my lab,” she gritted out.

“Because you summoned him and ordered him to stay there.”

“Only because you made me!”

Ino rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Forehead. Doesn’t your lab have radioactive contamination right now?” 

“Well, yeah.”

“It would be a nightmare to work in, and don’t you tell me otherwise,” Ino said sensibly. “Your body may be immune to radioactivity or whatever, but you’d contaminate all  your samples, so what’s the problem with staying away for a couple days? You’d have waited to use the lab again anyway.”

That wasn’t the point! She’d summoned Tobirama! He should listen to her, do what she told him to. Who did he think he was, calling the shots like this? Telling her whether to go into her lab or not? This was already setting a precedent, one she really didn’t like.  Just because he’d used to be Hokage before… he was going to end up stealing her whole project from her! She just knew it: soon, he’d be bossing her around like everyone else on team seven always did. Damn it, damn it, damn it. She’d known it was a bad idea to get that bigot involved!

“Forehead? I thought you would want to be rid of him for a while?” Ino pressed.

Sakura frowned, her muscles slowly uncoiling. “I suppose so.”

You win this round, bastard. 

“But I’ll return to the lab at the latest by Friday,” Sakura added archly. “The seals should’ve finished clearing the radioactivity out by then.”

“I’ll relay that to him,” Ino said with a nod.

Sakura nodded back stiffly, forcing herself to smile. “Thanks, pig.”

“No problemo, Forehead.”

Whatever. She’d give Tobirama a piece of her mind once they met again.

Sakura fell asleep that night tossing and turning in her bed, trying to find a solution to the Tobirama-usurping her problem.

TWO years THREE weeks Before YANAGI

They had struck a deal with Uchiha Itachi… but as his cheeks began to redden, as his leg twitched, and then his finger, as his eyelashes fluttered, Sakura’s heart began to beat wildly in her ribcage.

“I…” Ino said, but before she could finish her thought, Itachi’s eyes shot open.

His arms slowly tensed as he tested his restraints. His eyes roved over the room, eventually settling on Sakura, then on Ino, then back on Sakura.

“Uchiha-san,” Sakura said politely. It came out a little stiff.

Itachi smiled: it seemed almost angelic. Almost angelic for a corpse that was no longer, indeed, dead.

Sakura hesitantly stepped closer to the metallic examination table. She was well aware that his restraints were as good as useless. They’d more likely annoy him than achieve anything else.

“I’m sorry about your restraints. We couldn’t have you convulsing during the procedure,” she lied. “I will untie them now.”

“Forehead–” Ino objected somewhere behind her, but Sakura ignored the protest expertly. Her instincts were telling her that if she wanted Itachi’s cooperation, this was an important gesture.

He watched her like a hawk as she cut his restraints with chakra scalpels. Ino could have probably done this without breaking the restraints outright, but Sakura was nervous and not thinking properly.

“Itachi,” Itachi said suddenly.

Sakura frowned. He was looking at her intently. “I’m sorry?” Was he brain dead after all?

“You may call me by my first name,” Itachi said. His voice was a little rough with disuse, nothing like the smooth baritone of his edo tensei form.

Sakura coughed. Right. This all felt like a fever dream.

Outside, the sky was starting to lighten. She undid his last restraint and offered her hand. “Welcome to the world of the living, Itachi-san.”

Itachi clasped it, rightening on the bed. “Thank you for your hard work, Sakura-san.”

With Sakura pulling him up, he easily sat on the edge of the bed. His blanket slipped off his private parts with the motion, temporarily flashing both Sakura and Ino.  Sakura awkwardly turned away, giving him some privacy, and back to Ino, who wasn’t even hiding her scrutiny of the Uchiha.

“Ino,” Sakura hissed irritably.

Ino’s eyes snapped up to her, though she didn’t look a bit embarrassed. “Just so you know, Uchiha,” she called out, I helped too. You could show some more gratitude to me.”

“Thank you as well, Ino,” Itachi said.

“Hah, no ‘san’? You’re one rude Uchiha, you know that?”

Sakura snorted, figuring it was back to turn around again. Itachi had wrapped the towel they’d covered his modesty with around himself, looking much like he’d just walked out of the bathroom.

“I… forgot to bring clothes,” Sakura realized suddenly, staring at him in horror. “I’m so sorry, Itachi-san. I was so sure I’d thought of everything… but I’m just so used to dealing with the bodies naked that I didn’t even think you’d need clothes!”

She blushed, suddenly registering how that would sound.

“Way to sound like a creep, Forehead,” Ino deadpanned in the background.

Sakura resisted the urge to fiddle with a thread in her labcoat. “Um… I’m so sorry, Itachi-san. I promise it was an honest mistake…”

Itachi’s eyes turned crimson and suddenly his expression changed into a murderous one. “Haruno-san… you will die for this slight. How dare you… how dare you perv on me?!”

Sakura flinched back, her feet skidding over the tiles in her haste to get back, but Itachi was too fast as he chased after her, Sharingan ablaze– 

Sakura opened her eyes, slamming her hands into her alarm clock to silence it. What the heck… She sat up in bed. What the heck was that dream? 

Her room was still dark. She  hadn’t thought of Itachi at all since that failed resurrection. But that had to be one of the weirdest dreams she’d ever had. Itachi flying into a murderous rage because she’d forgotten to clothe him – ridiculous.

Sakura rubbed her temples, sitting up in  bed. Come to think of it, though… Itachi had been much more willing to cooperate with her ideas than Tobirama. If all Ino cared about was Sakura’s safety, then why not just resurrect Itachi’s edo tensei form. He could create that powerful chakra construct thing to protect her in an emergency, and he could even teleport with his crows.  Plus, he seemed like he’d actually be bearable to work with – nothing like the fucking nidaime.

Yeah. Wasn’t that an idea? She should just summon Itachi. Convince him to act as her lab aide or whatever and get Ino off her back that way. He  wouldn’t try to butt in on her research. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to understand enough to boss her around. Instead, he could stand guard and protect her if there was an explosion – and that was it. No unwelcome leadership contests or male dick measuring competitions. It wasn’t even a bad idea to have a lab aide, per se – just anyone but Tobirama. Itachi would make an excellent aide. He’d proven he was a dedicated follower of orders, even if those orders involved killing his family. He was smart, quiet, and he didn’t butt in where he wasn’t wanted.

Yes. Itachi would work just fine. And as a bonus: he was an Uchiha, which would work just fine to drive Tobirama away. Once Tobirama declined to help her, Ino would have no choice but to settle for letting Itachi do it.

TWO years THREE weeks Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Today was Thursday. Tomorrow, she’d have to see Tobirama again, unless…

Unless she went through with her plan. Sakura’s idea to resurrect Itachi had stayed with her all through the morning, boring itself deeper and deeper into her head, like a persistent earthworm. Ino wouldn’t approve. At least not at first. She wanted it to be Tobirama. But she’d see reason once Sakura brought in Itachi. He had been much more pleasant to deal with, and he would actually do his best to help, since his resurrection hinged on it. Sakura didn’t want Tobirama to go getting any ideas that she’d bring him back.

It was said and done. 

She managed to leave the Academy early that day – miraculously, not a single student had been put in detention – and that meant only one thing: it was time to summon Itachi. The less time she gave Ino to react and protest, the better.

Since Tobirama was currently at her lab, Sakura decided she’d just have to chance using her flat to resurrect Itachi. Making a shadow clone, she commanded it to guard the perimeter and ensure no one entered. Then she set about making preparations.

Opening her bedroom window, Sakura sighed, rolling her shoulders as she stepped in. Finally.

Home, sweet home.

Dropping off her bag on the floor, she stretched, shedding her boots.

Only an hour left before T&I closed.

11 months, 2 weeks before Yanagi

Her toes curled from the heat of the water, her skin itched, abused and rosy, under the hot stream. She had hopped into the shower to clear her mind and calm her nerves, but it was no use, her heart was already beating a stackato in her chest. Tonight… tonight might be the night. That was the only mantra repeating over and over in her brain.

When she stepped out of the shower, she was clean, but not at all calmer. Sakura donned a more casual outfit than her teaching one, a combination Ino would no doubt waste no time in labelling her 'ratty scientist look', complete with her shihsou's Haori and her lab coat on top, safety googles proped up on her head. Then she grabbed the rest of her equipment and her keys, and her notes, and she was off, rereading the T&I building’s security schedule one last time for good measure.

Yes. Yes, she was ready.

It wasn’t until two a.m. that she dared start the jutsu. Her chances of being seen during the day were just too great. The impure world resurrection was beginning to feel like second nature by now, after performing it so many times. The sacrificial rapist crumbled, his limbs and torso disassembling into dust and ash. Flames swept around him like a wind of destiny from the old stories,  and then the dust acquired a humanoid form, slowly reassembling itself into the shape of a creature with limbs and a torso and even hair. A creature with white, cracked skin, and black eyes like dried blood, and long lashes like a raven's feathers. His cloak was black with dark red clouds – a nostalgic sight almost. 

And then the resurrected man straightened, his eyes fluttering open.

Uchiha Itachi’s lip twitched a little as he stepped out of the  swirl of fire and dust that had created him. He tilted his head in something that could be called a greeting.  “Well, hello there, Haruno-san.”

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

When Thursday night finally rolled around, Ino was more than ready to visit Tobirama again in order to have a final chat before Sakura came back. She’d tried to give the man space, but now she couldn’t take it anymore. Would he agree to help them? Would he decline? She wanted to come meet him before Friday, to make sure that the of them were on the same page before Forehead got involved.

It was with some surprise, however, that she arrived only to find Tobirama pacing the room like a caged wolf.

The second she’d opened the door, his red eyes bore into her. “Care to explain yourself?” he spat. 

Ino stared at him in confusion. “Uh… explain what?”

“Why did Haruno just resurrect  an Uchiha?”

Ino stared at the man blankly. It was late at night and she was dead tired. Excuse her if her processing power wasn’t at its max. “What?” she repeated.

Tobirama advanced towards her, eyes narrowed. “You are unaware that Haruno just resurrected an Uchiha?”

Ino stared. “I’m sorry… you’re making no sense. What Uchiha? I can assure you, we’ve resurrected no Uchiha besides for Itachi, but that was ages ago and Sakura botched the pure resurrection part–”

“She’s resurrected one right now,” Tobirama cut her off.

Ino swallowed, a vague feeling of alarm beginning to beret in her gut. “Uh… what?”

“Yes, indeed. What ,” Tobirama repeated irritably. “That’s my question.”

“How would you even know whether she’s resurrected anyone?” Ino asked suspiciously. Was this some kind of test?

“I have a jutsu,” Tobirama said.

“Uh…”

“A remote observation jutsu,” he clarified after a beat.

“You – what?!”

“I’ve only been ordered to stay put,” Tobirama said with a shrug. “Haruno never forbade me from astral projecting.”

Astral… what?! Ino stared at the nidaime speechlessly.

“Okay, so you’ve… somehow spied on Forehead and discovered her resurrecting someone else?” Ino clarified.

Tobirama nodded.

“Just now?”

Another nod.

“An Uchiha?”

Tobirama replied by henguing into a copy of… Uchiha  Itachi. “This guy.”

…well… fuck. He couldn’t have made that up, having never met Itachi. That meant… Forehead really just… brought back Sasuke’s older brother? But why?!

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Sakura scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Hi, Itachi-san. Again. Uh… you’ll notice you’re not alive just yet.”

“I did notice, yes.” Itachi looked down at himself, at his cracked hands and skin; marred like a broken porcelain cup. “I take it the experiment on my person didn’t go as you had hoped?”

Sakura shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. We got very close, but the reaction got out of hand towards the end. Next thing I know, my lab’s destroyed and Ino’s pestering me to summon Tobirama for help, of all people.”

Itachi scanned her with his black soulless eyes for a moment, before saying: “You are against this?”

“Well, of course I am! The nidaime represents everything that’s wrong with Konoha! Why would I want to accept his help?”

Itachi looked ponderous for a moment. “Certainly, he doesn’t inspire much trust,” he mused. “But it might not be such a bad idea to pump him for information on his jutsu, to make the procedure safer for all parties involved.” He turned to level her with a serious expression. “Your safety should always be paramount, Sakura.”

Sakura looked away, unsure why that intense stare made her uncomfortable. “I mean, yeah, but… I don’t need anyone to hold my hand in the lab, and least of all him.”

“Certainly not, but he would be helpful regardless,” Itachi said.

Sakura pouted. She had been expecting him to tell her to dismiss Tobirama immediately, not side with Ino! What was the deal with the guy? Didn’t all the Uchiha hate the nidaime? He did say that Tobirama didn’t inspire much trust…

“Do not look so put  out,” Itachi said suddenly. “I understand your point.”

Sakura perked up. Well, would you look at that? “I’m glad you do. It’s amoral, right? Like working with Orochimaru or Kabuto or something!”

Itachi gave her a neutral expression that almost bordered on a smile. “Maybe. Who  knows?” He brushed some stray hairs behind his ear. “If I may  ask, though… Sakura-san, why did you call me here again?”

“Oh, uh…” Sakura was unsure how to continue for a moment. Finally, she said: “I figured you’d make a better helper than Tobirama. He and I… we really didn't get along.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be of much help,” Itachi replied. “Though I’m honored.”

He was smiling! The expression transformed his features so much, Sakura was momentarily stumped. Is this really happening? Uchiha Itachi: smiling. Who’d have thought he’d smile so easily? He had always seemed so serious and… tumultuous. Then again, she hadn’t much to go off on to conclude that. She was probably just projecting due to Sasuke.

“You would certainly be more help than Tobirama,” Sakura said, folding her arms together. “All he was good for was to inform me of how incompetent I am and how much my research sucks – and then he had the gall to tell Ino to tell me that I shouldn’t bother him again. And he’s hogging my lab! My lab!”

Itachi chuckled, apparently amused at Sakura’s indignation. 

“Don’t laugh!” she protested. “There’s nothing funny about this situation! That old goat stole my lab!”

Itachi snorted and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sakura-san, but it is rather amusing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call the nidaime an old goat before.”

“Well, I mean… by shinobi standards, he died old,” she hedged. “He was, what? Fifty?”

“Thirty-nine, actually,” Itachi said.

“Thirty-nine?!” She hissed. Ouch. Kakashi was fourty already!

“Yes. A thirty-nine year old goat,” Itachi said tartly.

Now it was Sakura’s turn to almost lose it. How Itachi knew this random fact about the nidaime was anyone’s best guess.

“Whatever. He’s still an old goat on account of his white hair,” she decided. “But that’s beside the point. Are you helping me or not?”

Itachi chuckled again. “Of course, Sakura-san, I will help you however I am able. If need be, I can also use my Sharingan to persuade the nidaime to be… more cooperative.”

“Doubt he’d fall for it, but thanks,” Sakura groused.

Itachi hummed and stepped closer to the window, leaning on the sill to look outside. A crow came fluttering towards them. With one fluid motion, Itachi opened the window and the crow flew inside, flapping its wings showily to land on the back of Itachi’s wrist.

It had red eyes.

Sakura could only stare, frozen, as the crow and Itachi regarded each other for a long moment. Itachi spared (yet another!) smile for the bird, then turned back to look at Sakura. “I will help you convince Tobirama, if necessary,” he said at last.

“I was thinking more along the lines that you could help me if my lab exploded, or something,” Sakura said. “Use your eyes to keep anyone from catching me unawares… that kind of thing.”

“Certainly, I can provide assistance with that, as well.”

Sakura nodded, a little relieved. “That’s actually great. I’m so relieved to have someone in my corner, you know. Ino’s totally taken Tobirama’s side, don’t know why.”

Itachi hummed noncommittally. “Speaking of – I am aware you said during our previous rendezvous that I should live in your lab, Sakura-san, but given that Tobirama is occupying it… I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”

Crap. She hadn’t thought of that either.

Sakura sweated nervously. “Um… you know what? Why don’t you just stay home with me for now? Cast a genjutsu on the windows or something, just in case someone happens to glance inside.”

Itachi nodded. “I suppose that is the best solution, for now. Is it alright if I rest a little?”

Sakura blinked. “Now?”

Itachi regarded his hands. “Yes. I… find myself surprisingly… tired? Even though I’m technically a chakra construct. I suppose the stress of the war is catching up with me, corpse or no.”

“Er… right.” It'd been a decade since the war for her, but for Itachi, it probably felt like he’d been on the battlefield only yesterday. Strange.

This whole situation was so random… almost like her dream, where he’d chased her around naked. Though this was certainly a more appealing outcome.

“I do apologize,” Itachi added. “I realize you likely expect to discuss your plans going forward with me, but…  I fear I am unfit for much critical thinking at the moment.”

“Oh, of course!” Sakura mumbled. “Sorry, I completely forgot to ask you how you felt.” It  was generally the polite thing to do to ask one’s patient… experiment? …zombie? …how they felt after being summoned from the dead.

“Are you hungry?” she asked hesitantly. “Thirsty?”

Itachi paused thoughtfully for a moment. “I… I find myself craving soba rather desperately, though I’m not hungry. It is more a… a wish to reacquaint myself with the taste.  And… green tea, if you could manage it?”

Sakura chuckled in amusement. “I think  I have some ramen in the pantry, Itachi-san. As for tea, sure. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to stomach any, considering your… state.”

Itachi nodded. “I suppose we’ll just have to see.”

“Alright then,” Sakura said, eyeing him thoughtfully. She ran a hand through her hair, worked at suppressing a yawn, and stretched so that her joints popped.  “Let’s go into the kitchen. I suppose you’ve stalked me plenty, so you already know where everything is… but just for the sake of normalcy, I’ll give you the tour…”

As they stepped into the kitchen, she blanched. She’d completely forgotten the absolute war zone the place had become in the past few days. Whoops.

“Sorry about the mess,” Sakura mumbled. “I was a bit… preoccupied with the whole resurrecting Tobirama thing, these past few days.”

“I can imagine,” Itachi commented. “I know you’re typically a very neat individual.”

Right. He was a creep. 

Sakura sighed, scratching her hair again. It was too damn greasy, and now she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t showered in who knew how long.

Great first impression there, Haruno.

Itachi didn’t seem like the type who would  let himself go under any circumstances. He was probably disgusted at her slovenly state. With a sigh, Sakura opened her cabinets. Grabbing the green tea container, she shook it, only to discover it was almost empty. Great. She dove for  the fridge and found some milk and a frozen desert. On top of the fridge, there were a couple of ramen cups. 

She put some water in the cooker for the ramen and started washing some soup bowls, so as not to eat the noodles out of the cups, at least. Then she remembered Itachi was still covered in soot from the reaction caused by the edo tensei, and, calling out a quick ‘I’ll be back in a sec!’ over her shoulder, rushed into her room to hunt for clean clothes and a towel so he could take a shower.

She often fell asleep at Kakashi’s place – the man’s office couch wasn’t the only couch she’d gifted him – both were too damn comfortable –  so she had ended up stealing a couple of his clothes as a natural consequence. It was a lucky coincidence that she’d thought to wash them, because now she could give them to Itachi. Obviously, she had no male underwear, so this would have to do for now.

“Here,” she said, pressing the clothes – and a clean towel – into his hands. “Feel free to take a shower – bathroom’s over there. The water handle is probably pointing to scorching hot right now, so beware that.  I’ll have some ramen ready for you in a few minutes.”

“A – a shower?” Itachi asked  in surprise.

“Well, of course,” Sakura said. “You’re dead, but that’s no excuse for being dirty. Besides, a hot shower is one of the best things out there, isn’t it?”

Itachi nodded faintly and strode into the bathroom without comment, closing the door with care. Sakura somehow found the strength in her to speed clean and ventilate the place while the man was showering, making quick work of an inflatable mattress and some clean sheets to prepare an extra bed for Itachi in the living room. She was just fluffing his pillow when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Right, you’ll sleep there. Now, let me just reheat the water real quick… I wasn’t sure how long you’d take, so I decided to just reheat the cooking water when you came out…”

Damn it, stop rambling, you idiot.

Itachi merely regarded her calmly. As one does. After being resurrected.

Holly shit.

It only now was starting to hit her what she’d done. Ino was going to be so furious that she’d just up and resurrected Itachi without even telling her. Pouring the steaming water into the two cups, Sakura sighed. She was beginning to question if it really had been such a good idea after all, especially with Itachi siding with Ino on the keeping-Tobirama-around matter.

“Ouch! Fuck!” She swore loudly. In her stupor, she’d let the hot water spill over. “Damn, ugh!” She wiped some of the excess water from the counter, and flinched as some dribbled onto her socks.

She jumped again when she felt a sudden presence behind her. A moment later, Itachi was helping her wipe the mess clean, though she’d have rather he stayed put. She was not used to having other people in here, sneaking up on her at three in the morning… and less so Uchiha Itachi.

Sakura sighed, forcing herself to relax as she and Itachi silently finished cleaning the spilled water.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Itachi made a noise of acknowledgement. Sakura withdrew the two bowls from the drying rack and poured the two ramen servings into them. Then she took her fancy chopsticks from the drawer and poured them both a glass of milk.

It was a haphazard dinner, at best, but oh well. “Help me carry these?” she asked, glancing at Itachi.

He wordlessly took a plate and cup and moved to the kitchen table. Sakura copied him, picking up the tray of sweets also, taking a seat across from him.

“Itadakimasu.”

The dinner that followed would probably make the top one of strangest meals she’d ever had. She and Uchiha Itachi, eating cheap ramen at… three in the morning, in her flat. After he’d died. 

Note to self: apparently edo tensei zombies can eat and drink just fine, even if they don’t breathe and, to my knowledge, don’t poop. One of the mysteries of the universe, I suppose.

“D’you want some sweets?” Sakura offered, pushing the plate with dango and mochi in Itachi’s direction. He seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to eat all too much, despite the fact that he’d said himself he didn’t feel an actual need for sustenance.

“Are you sure?” Itachi asked, eyeing the sweets.

Sakura snorted. Really? Uchiha Itachi was not what she’d expected. She took to eating sweets as a treat to herself for a job well done. A sort of motivation for her research. Tonight, she hadn’t really accomplished much  in terms of research, but she liked to think that she’d gotten a leg over Tobirama, which was also a victory.

“Of course. We deserve a pick me up.”

Itachi smirked. “I suppose I can’t say no to that. Which ones do you prefer?”

Sakura eyed him, then the plate of sweets, featuring dango and green tea mochi. “Which one do you?”

“Dango.”

Sakura smiled. “Good. I prefer the mochi.”

They lapsed into rather peaceful silence while gorging on sweets. Sakura had a thought that she probably shouldn’t be eating these right before going to bed – but who the hell even cared. Besides, she was so exhausted at this point, she doubted the sugar rush would keep her awake.

Finally, the sweets were finished, and they were left to sip at their glasses of milk in silence while watching the sun rise from the window.

“Ugh… shit,” Sakura mumbled. “I have class tomorrow. I mean, today. God damn, that’s going to suck.” They’d had dinner for too long. It would probably be pointless to go to bed now.

“Class?” asked Itachi, cocking his head. He sounded exhausted, too – it made him look human. Then again, he was. Sort of. A human zombie. Whatever.

Sakura shook off her momentary amazement over this fact and looked at him. “I’m an Academy  teacher.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you indeed?”

“No need to look so skeptical,” she grumbled.

“You just don’t seem like the… nurturing type,” he said slowly.

“Ah, right. You stalked me so you know everything about me,” Sakura suppressed a yawn.

“I do apologize for that,” Itachi muttered, stiffening a little.

Sakura rolled her shoulder, leaning back in her chair. “Nah. Don’t. We’re over that, right?” He gave a cautious nod. “Besides,” she went on, “you’re right anyway. I’m a pants teacher.”

“Why… do it then?”

“Can we not?” Sakura asked. “You should be sleeping, Itachi-san.”  And I should be showering so those brats don’t call me stinky sensei tomorrow.

Itachi nodded, standing up. “You are correct. I’ll be going to sleep, then. Or trying to. I’m not sure it will work.”

Sakura glanced at the hastily made bed on the living room floor. “Just take my bed,” she muttered. “I won’t be sleeping in it anyway.”

Itachi looked dubious.

“I have friends, you know. Someone might drop in on me,” Sakura explained. “Better if you’re in my room. They know better than to go in through that window.”

Itachi nodded hesitantly. “I…will have my crows  keep an eye out.”

“Right. Good.” Sakura nodded at him.

Itachi nodded back, standing and disappearing into her room without further fanfare. Sakura watched after him, somewhat stumped that he’d just up and gone into her room, but then snapped out of it and trailed after him to pull out her clothes for the day. Then remembered she had her sex toys lying around and frantically rushed past Itachi, knocking him off balance and into the bed in her mad dive for the shoe box she kept them in.

“...Sakura-san?” 

She had frozen into position after belly flopping onto her bed with the shoe box clutched protectively to her chest.

“Er. Yeah, sorry, uh… Had some… stuff lying around…”

She quickly edged away from Itachi at an angle where he wouldn't see the contents of the (uncovered) shoe box.

“I understand.”

Oh god. If he said he knew something or other about her sexual habits she was going to lose it.

Blushing in mortification, Sakura slid the box under her bed and rightened back to a seated position. To her relief, Itachi didn’t seem to care about her horror, having already made himself right at home on her bed. She supposed that was her fault for literally pushing him onto it, but…

Sakura’s eyebrow twitched.

Damn… what a guy.

She quickly withdrew her clothes from her closet, made a shadow clone to watch over him, and hopped into her shower.

And now, back to the elephant graveyard, she thought mulishly, while scrubbing under her armpits.  I can’t believe I have to go back there while Uchiha Itachi sleeps blissfully on my bed.

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

“It seems Haruno has resurrected the Uchiha for the purposes of getting rid of me,” Tobirama concluded, uncurling his hand from the tiger seal.

Yamanaka chewed on her lip uneasily. She seemed to have divined that he had been listening in on whatever conversation Haruno had had with this… Itachi…  

“That… does sound like something Sakura might do if she thought her research was on the line,” Yamanaka admitted.

“But it’s not,” Tobirama said. “Doesn’t she want to find the solution to the edo tensei problem?”

“Yeah, but… Sakura’s kinda touchy about her intelligence, you know,” Ino explained. “I think she really didn’t like it when you called her stupid the other day.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “I hardly called her stupid. I only pointed out some mistakes in her notes.”

“Sure, well, tell that to her…” Ino sighed.   “Listen, Tobirama-sama. “I really think Sakura’s summoned Itachi to use him  as an excuse to continue working on her project alone.”

“You mean as an excuse to force me to quit,” Tobirama completed, crossing his arms.

Yamanaka ignored him. “ So, to avoid that… do you think you could make some gesture to, uh, show you’d be willing to work with Sakura as an equal?” Ino asked awkwardly.

Tobirama sighed loudly. “A gesture ?” he repeated incredulously. “Haruno requested my help. Not the other way around.”

“Yes, but–”

Tobirama frowned, glancing down at the worn books laid out on the lab table in front of him. Haruno Sakura’s journals. The ones obtained by Yamanaka Ino for the express purpose of understanding Haruno’s genius. He eyes them, ignoring Yamanaka’s prattle. These journals had done a lot to elevate his opinion of the woman, but not so much to convince him of Haruno’s trustworthiness…

They were written in code.

Tobirama had set himself to the task of breaking of Haruno’s cypher. He’d had one week of continuous failures to go off on thus far. She wasn’t using any standard cyphers he knew. In fact, she seemed to have come up with an entirely different alphabet. If his guess was correct, she had adapted hiragana –  as well as a few choice kanji – creating new pictograms to represent them. Therefore, it was impossible to guess the cipher.

 Haruno’s tricks unending tricks were driving him up the wall. Who even came up with a whole new alphabet just for note taking?! This new version of writing she seemed to have come up with – this alternative alphabet – seemed to have been created with speed in mind. It looked like a set of squiggles and curved lines to his inexperienced eyes, though he counted fifty different types of squiggles – a greater amount than there were hiragana characters. Since Tobirama doubted Haruno had invented new phonetic sounds, he assumed she must have created a few redundant characters – letters which meant the same thing – in order to confuse possible code-breakers.

In short, her little alphabet was fool proof… and he felt incredibly the fool. Despite that, some of Haruno’s notes he had been able to read – her published research, the magazines Yamanaka had brought. His surprise hadn’t been small when he’d realized she’d used aliases for most of her articles.

At first, Tobirama had thought that Haruno didn’t get published after all, noticing that the magazine Ino had shown her a week ago was one of the only ones actually featuring an article by Dr S Haruno. But then he had noticed that each magazine tended to be bookmarked with a little post it –  and after reading her bookmarked articles, he had realized that they all read as if they had been written by the same person, despite being authored by different people. Then he had read over Haruno’s signed articles and realized that the style was the same as all the bookmarked ones.

That was when  he’d made the leap and concluded that yes, she had written all of them. That was why there were so many magazines and yet why Haruno had apparently so rarely informed Yamanaka she’d gotten published. The rest of the time, it was her alter egos getting the credit.

And by the stars did she merit credit. Tobirama could no longer deny that the woman was brilliant. He didn’t know much about medicine, but just reading her papers made him… uneasy. And awed. Through he preferred to focus on the uneasy part.

It was obvious now that Haruno trusted no one  with her research… and that could mean nothing good. Even Ino only had the key to the safe, but not the cypher for the code it’s contents were encrypted in. Then again… Tobirama had trusted his students with his notes and look where it got him. Eighty years, being summoned on and off by Hiruzen, Danzo, Orochimaru, Kabuto, Namikaze Minato, Uchiha Mikoto, Chiyo of Suna, Sasori of the Red Sands, Kakuzu, Hidan of the Yashinists and so many countless others – all of them calling him forth as if he were some genie in a bottle, all of them wishing he bow to their whims.

Attempting to pry his secrets out of his corpse.

He’d had it coming, he knew. This was what he got for inventing a jutsu that allowed the user to disturb the eternal rest of the dead. He had paid for it dearly by having his own eternal rest constantly disturbed. If it hadn’t been because of the precautions he’d taken in ensuring that the edo tensei couldn’t force a resurrected person to reveal secrets… well. He was vindicated that at least none of them had managed to pry the last of his jutsu out of him, techniques he hadn’t shared with anyone. But the edo tensei… well, that one was out. Undoubtedly, the one jutsu that should have never been discovered – and it had been.

Creating the edo tensei had been a mistake that had cost him everything.

Now, once again he had been resurrected – this time by one Haruno Sakura. Tobirama somewhat remembered her from the war (when his blasted jutsu had once again disturbed his and so many others’ eternal rest). However, Haruno hadn’t registered as someone to watch out for back then. Now he knew better.

He didn’t trust her.

Hence – his continued attempts to break her cypher. Continuous and fruitless.   

Tobirama was convinced that if he looked up the word “secret” in the dictionary, he’d just see a picture of those embossed notebooks of hers. All of them written in a curled, circling squiggle-like script he couldn’t hope to decipher. Elegant. Mysterious. Worthy of tearing his hair out.

The only parts of her research that were legible were her writings on his research, which, according to his theory, she hadn’t encoded yet because it wasn’t finished.  

Observing Haruno this past week through his astral projection jutsu, he had gotten the impression that she was a very collected individual, who understood the people around her and how to tug at their strings like the chords of a harp – producing sweet angelic sounds, all while playing a haunting, macabre melody.

No, he didn’t trust Haruno Sakura. He had grown to respect her thanks to Yamanaka’s meddling, and from respect had come his wariness.   The fact that he wouldn’t trust someone who had summoned him was nothing new. Tobirama wasn’t an easily-trusting individual – and the first step of resurrecting him involved desecrating his grave, so he wasn’t about to be fond of anyone who summoned him.

The one thing that made Haruno stand out most from all those who came before her was that she seemed to have no interest in prying much of anything out of him. He had at first thought it was inverse psychology – that Haruno, more skilled than all those who had attempted to manipulate him into spilling the details  of his jutsu, had come up with a plan to pry his secrets out of him once and for all – but the more he pondered the woman, the more he began to believe that this wasn’t the case. She genuinely wanted nothing to do with him. She simply had such a large ego that she’d rather fail on her own than succeed with his help.

That made her somewhat less threatening in his mind – but not by much. A woman as brilliant as her, and with Izuna’s social cunning. Of course he was going to tread carefully around her. It didn’t help that he didn’t understand her at all: Haruno was a contradictory individual. The type who was good at plotting from the shadows, pulling strings to tear others down without revealing her hand.

Now, he didn’t really know Haruno, so he couldn’t be sure she was like that, but from observing her so far, and just the general feel of her, he was inclined to believe his initial gut instinct about her. Why else would she go out of her way to hide her research, her brilliance? She must be plotting something. A snake lying in wait, hiding in the grass. When he had first met her, Haruno hadn’t bothered with her polite little attitude –  in fact, she had rudely repeated that the only thing she wanted from him was for him to leave her alone. Around others, however, Haruno wasn’t nearly so blunt and confrontational at all.

Tobirama had a feeling she was the most honest when he saw her speaking to the Hokage – Hatake Kakashi – and Ino, but he would need to observe her further to be sure. Either way, the woman had unsettled him. Someone who kept so many secrets… someone who couldn’t be fathomed. Should he really help someone like that with her research?

And so – he’d looked and looked and looked through her notes day and night, utilising this week’s worth of time to desperately search for any clues that could tip him off as to what Haruno’s  notebooks were about. And, surprisingly, he did manage to find something.

Once again, he couldn’t make heads or tails of Haruno’s squiggle code – her most crucial notes were all written in code –  but there was something… an imprint, as though someone had written on a piece of paper that was on top of the notebook. Tobirama assumed that, if she had copied her notes from a draft version to the embossed notebook, there was a possibility that she had pressed down on the draft version at some point, resulting in an imprint unto the notebook.

Either way, the imprint was very faint –just lines on paper, without ink, barely legible.  They were barely incomplete words he had to puzzle out, separate… and yet–

– – – incidence rate– – – plague – – – morbidity – – – mass deaths– – – 10000 – – – 6 months – – – mortality – – – weapon– – – biohazard – – –contagion– – –

– the picture they painted had left him cold.

Just… what was this research? What did those words stand for? His mind was running wild with possibilities, but without knowing for sure…

He wasn’t even going to bother confronting Haruno, since she was likely to take more precautions if she knew he was researching her. No – Yamanaka was much easier to interact with, so Tobirama had decided to give her one last chance to explain herself – and why she had summoned this Uchiha Itachi.

Hence their current conversation. He had been tuning out Yamanaka’s chatter for a while now in favor for regarding the notebooks again, but perhaps it was time to broach the topic… Tobirama  rounded back in the blonde and slammed his hand in the table.

“Biohazard. Ten thousand. Six months. Do these words say anything to you, Ino?”

Yamanaka’s eyes widened. “Wh–? What?”

“The words were in one of Haruno’s encoded notebooks. They were apparent because she must’ve pressed a paper into the page as she wrote them elsewhere. Shall I repeat them?”

“No, I heard you.” Yamanaka took a deep breath. “Look – I can’t talk about this. What you’ve found…” She shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.”

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed. “But you do know what these notes are referring to?”

Yamanaka bit her lip.

“Biohazard? Contagion? Mass deaths?” he pressed. “Just. What the hell is Haruno involved in, Yamanaka?”

“I… I can’t talk about it. It’s extremely classified. As in, only the Hokage and the Head of Intelligence know about this type of classified. But I promise it’s not a bad thing. It was village-sanctioned. I… I really can’t speak of this to anyone.”

“Even a former Hokage?” Tobirama tried.

Yamanaka just gave him a dismayed look.

He crossed his arms. “Well – then we’re at an impasse. You’ll understand why I can’t trust Haruno going forward.” Not that he’d trusted her to begin with. He was still on the fence of leaving the project or staying (he hated to admit it, but Haruno’s reverse psychology was working despite himself), yet Yamanaka didn’t know that, and since she was hoping he would stay on to help, he was hoping she’d offer something more too secure his cooperation.

Yamanaka sighed. “Look – Tobirama-sama. I don’t know what you want me to say. Yes, Sakura has been involved in some shady things, but who hasn’t, on our level? Just look at your own track record! We’re ninja. We’re the ones who made it farthest of our whole generation. Of course we aren’t going to be the purest people out there.”

Tobirama just stared at her. He had been told on occasion that his poker face was intimidating – since he wasn’t good with words, he usually defaulted to it as his main weapon in situations like these.

Yamanaka ran a hand through her hair. “Look – what do you want from me? I can vouch for Sakura all I want, you won’t believe me.”

“I would believe you if you offered me some compelling evidence that she’s trustworthy.”

“What would even count as compelling evidence in your book?” Yamanaka countered. “Being dead? Oh, wait. Not even that counts anymore thanks to your jutsu. You already know the Hokage and Tsunade consider her trustworthy. She’s a bloody Neo-Sannin. An Academy teacher. I – I honestly can’t think of anything else to tell you to make you believe she’s a good person.”

Tobirama shook his head. “None of that counts. She…” He paused, wondering if he should tell her, but then decided: to hell with it. “She strikes me as someone very manipulative.”

Yamanaka cocked her head. “Manipulative?”

Tobirama nodded. “From what I’ve observed through my astral projection jutsu… she seems to be extremely adept at… picking people apart and sussing out what makes them tick – then using that to her advantage.”

“You know that’s literally in my job description, right?” Yamanaka asked sarcastically. “And I don’t see you avoiding me.”

Tobirama sighed, sitting back in his chair – Haruno’s? – and twirling on the spot distractedly. If there was something he liked about this time period, then it was the chairs. They had wheels on them and they twirled. Best. Invention. Ever.

“Eh… nidaime-sama?”

Yamanaka’s questioning voice drew him back to the discussion at hand.

“Look – Yamanaka. I’ll be honest with you,” Tobirama said, arresting his twirling to pin her under a hard look. “From what I’ve seen so far, Haruno Sakura boasts the unconditional loyalty of many of Konoha’s key players.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I may as well start with you,” he said, raising a brow. “Konoha’s head of Intelligence – and therefore one of the most important people in the village. If that weren’t enough, it turns out Haruno is also extremely close with the Rokudaime Hokage as well as Tsuna – the prior Hokage –  Uzumaki Naruto – the future Hokage – and Uchiha Sasuke – the owner of a Rinnegan. Then there’s Hyuga Hanabi – the head of the Hyuga clan – and that Tenten woman, who seems to be involved in some shady things on Haruno’s behalf. Excuse me if it seems to me like… she collects people.”

“Okay, all those are her childhood friends. When Sakura befriended Hanabi, she hadn’t even been picked as the clan head, and the same goes for Naruto and the others. As for Tenten– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you deny Haruno is involved in something shady?” Tobirama asked, arching his brows. “That she’s getting the Tenten girl to be a frontman for it? Whatever it is? I find it a little hard to believe that you have no clue of what I’m talking about, Yamanaka. I’ve been spying on the woman for a week and I’ve already seen her writing some very suspect letters to this Tenten.”

Yamanaka frowned at him.

“Well, I always knew Sakura’s family was shady… and that Tenten was more involved in all that because she’s a civilian too…” Yamanaka said cautiously, “but my job as head of Intelligence is to screen against threats to Konoha, and Sakura has never cropped up in my radar for that. I’ve been her friend since we were six years old. Trust me, I know her better than what a few days of observation might have told you.”

Tobirama shook his head. “That still doesn’t explain her closeness with the Hyuga clan heiress – not Naruto’s girlfriend, but her younger sister, whom she has no excuse to be such good friends with. It’s as if she collects people of use. I don’t like it.”

Besides which there was Uchiha Itachi’s strange fondness of Haruno, which he wasn’t going to get into because he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Look – Hanabi was the one who insisted on befriending Sakura, not the other way around,” Ino insisted. “They’re both tomboys and crazy about taijutsu. It makes sense that they’d click.”

“You’re not hearing me, Yamanaka. It doesn’t matter how these connections came about.” Tobirama frowned. “My point is that  Haruno is in the perfect position to get away with things .” Just like Tobirama had once been. Just like Orochimaru had been. “Haruno has been in a position to get away with literal murder for years. You yourself have endorsed it. Knowing all that, knowing how secretive and yes, manipulative she is, can you truly ask me to trust this woman?”

Yamanaka sighed heavily. “To me it sounds like all this mistrust of her boils down to Sakura being… well, not exactly forthright with her intentions. Manipulative – you call it. But I say it’s simply another word for socially competent.”

He scoffed. “Euphemisms. It is what it is, Yamanaka.”

Yamanaka frowned at him. “And if I told you there’s a good reason why Sakura is so adept at reading people’s emotions? Reacting to them? Would you still judge her so harshly for that trait?”

Tobirama opened his mouth to scoff at her, but then thought better of it. Hadn’t he been attempting to gain intelligence on Haruno? Anything Yamanaka could tell him was useful. It would be smartest to let her tell him whatever she wanted and pay close attention, too.

So he fought down his natural impulse of dismissing her justifications and merely spun in his chair again, as if disinterested.

“A reason? Well, it must be a good one if it can explain away Haruno’s blatantly manipulative behaviour.”

Even as he spoke, he kept an eye on the garish ball of chakra that was Haruno’s signature, to make sure she didn’t return to the lab while they were in the middle of discussing her. Happily, the zigzagging chakra ball was still at the Academy – so he felt secure in returning his attention to Yamanaka.

Yamanaka, who sighed and looked suddenly tired. “Well, there is a good reason, alright? Without saying too much, it has to do with Sakura’s upbringing.”

Tobirama arched a brow. “I thought she was civilian-born? What does that have to do with anything?”

“She is civilian-born,” Ino confirmed, a twist to her lips. “But there’s something about her family… that has just never been right. Look, leaving the shady business aside, when there’s something broken in a child’s upbringing, that impacts their whole personality. Our entire life and our way of interacting with the world is shaped by our earliest memories. Even how we love.”

“So what?” Tobirama asked abruptly, clenching his fist. “Even if Haruno had… a bad home life growing up, as you claim, and it shaped her, that mostly just proves me right. She isn’t trustworthy.”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Ino countered. “Look – I know you’re a very blunt kind of person, nidaime-sama. You don’t like beating around the bush, you don’t react to people’s emotions, you only deal in facts. But imagine for a second that you grew up having to constantly depend on the moods and whimsies of your caretakers. Imagine that your survival hinged on being able to discern intentions at the drop of a hat… Imagine  that you grew up constantly struggling to adapt to whatever the people in power were feeling. Imagine that your survival depended on your ability to keep those same volatile authority figures happy, to  make them like you at any cost.”

Tobirama just stared at her. “So you’re saying this is the case for Haruno? You’re saying she’s a people pleaser? Is this a joke?”

Yamanaka just stared at him blankly.

Tobirama crossed his arms. “Why isn’t she trying to keep me happy then? I’m an authority figure, aren’t I? Yet she had no problem desecrating my grave and being rude to me.”

Yamanaka  just sighed. “Look. Let me finish. I’m just saying, these behaviours can be ingrained, just like your bluntness, but they don’t mean someone isn’t trustworthy. At least in Sakura’s case, I believe what you’re seeing that makes you dislike her so much, it’s just a product of her survival instinct.”

“Please, Yamanaka. Haruno isn’t some… some cowardly maiden,” Tobirama said with a frown. “She has proven she’s got a strong backbone and quite the tongue on her. I’d be surprised if that woman got even a wit of anxiety from defying authority figures.”

Ino just sighed. “Believe it or not, I do think she does. A lot. But she’s also aware of it, and sometimes acts contrary to her own nature because she hates that people-pleasing side about herself. So… she puts up this big front trying to act like she doesn’t care about what people think, and maybe she doesn’t care in the case of some people, but deep down… well. It’s an ingrained behaviour.”

“If Haruno did care about whether people think of her, then she should care about whether I think positively of her the most,” Tobirama interjected. “After all, I hold the key to her jutsu. She should be trying to curry my favour. Yet she goes out of her way to antagonize me… She just summoned Uchiha Itachi from the dead. it doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense if you consider this from a rational perspective,” Ino said. “But I think, to understand why she antagonizes you so much, you need to consider this from an emotional standpoint.”

“What, my bedside manner doesn’t agree with her sensibilities?” Tobirama asked sarcastically.

“No. It’s… I think… I think she doesn’t like how similar you are to her,” Ino said hesitantly. “And I also think she hates the fact that she would actually like you, normally. Personality-wise.”

Tobirama frowned at her. “What? Similar? We’re not similar. And we don’t get along whatsoever, at least, not for the… thirty minutes that I met her, anyway.”

“Look… nidaime-sama. I hate to break it to you, but you two are two peas in a pod. Like, yes, you are different in how you deal with  people, but if you look beyond that… you guys have a lot  in common.”

Tobirama frowned sceptically. “You said Haruno would normally like me. I can say with certainty the opposite is true. At least on my end. I hate manipulative people like her.”

“And she does too, believe it or not,” Ino noted. “Haven’t you noticed? Sakura always  tends to surround herself with earnest types. She’s wary of people with hidden intentions. Even I’m more on the blunt side outside of the workplace, head of intelligence or not.”

“Well, that’s hypocritical of her,” Tobirama noted. “Considering she’s so two-faced herself, or more like seven-faced, from what I’ve seen so far.”

Ino sighed. “You’re as stubborn as a mule.”

“You’re not presenting compelling enough arguments to change my mind about her,” Tobirama deadpanned.

“Well –” Ino regarded him uncertainly for a moment. “Why don’t I just show you then? This isn’t something I can explain.”

“Show me?” Tobirama questioned dubiously. “What, like with memory sharing?”

Yamanaka confirmed his guess by making handsigns. Tobirama frowned at her. He barely had time to register them before he was dragged into her mind.

TWENTY Years Before YANAGI

“Sakura-chan, look! Look!” a small version of Yamanaka Ino was peeking out behind  a red curtain, pointing her parents out in the crowd beyond. A similarly pint-sized version of Haruno was hiding behind Yamanaka and the red curtain.

“My parents are there! And Shika’s parents too! Where are yours?” Yamanaka demanded. Tobirama felt himself being flooded with random bits of information linked to the memory – such as that it was the day of the girls’ end of year performance with the choir, one that would be attended by all their parents.  The whole concept of choir recitals was completely  foreign to Tobirama, whose own parents had never indulged in such a  thing, so he merely watched on in bafflement as the excitable Ino madly waved at her parents down in the crowd.

Sakura had been silent.

“You’re in Quiet Mode again,” Ino observed with a pout. “You know, you’re gonna have to snap out of it soon if you’re gonna sing, right?”

Haruno gave an unconvincing nod. She looked a little like an ice statue, just standing there, next to the curtain.  She was tilting her head delicately and glancing at the Nara parents sitting next to Yamanaka’s in confusion. Apparently adept at mind reading even at that age, Ino seemed to guess what the silent Haruno was thinking.

“I know Shika isn’t in the choir, but his mom and dad really wanted to come see me sing! They’re like my uncles, you know,” she confided. “The weird uncles.”

Sakura nodded.

Ino clasped her hands and giggled too.  “Eek, Sakura-chan! Your hands are like ice!”

Sakura immediately lowered her head, laughter gone abruptly. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely audible, but there. She quickly released Ino’s hands and turned away.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for that,” said Ino, taking her hands again. “Cold hands, warm heart, ne?”

Sakura nodded a little shyly. Ino squeezed her hand and pulled her towards the curtain, forcing her to peer through the gap. “So. Where are yours? I can’t see them.”

“My parents?” Sakura asked quietly, looking at some distant point beyond the curtain.

“Duh! I can’t see them. They aren’t late, are they?”

Sakura looked around the crowd and gave a shrug. “They’re probably in the back.”

“Oh, makes sense, I guess. They aren’t ninja, so they probably lost the brawl for the best seats. My mum is gonna take photos though, so we can give you the negatives!”

“Thanks, Ino-chan… I’d really like that.”

The memory skipped forward. Apparently, despite remembering the random bit of conversation twenty two years later, Ino could not recall how the performance itself had gone. It probably hadn’t been  anything out of the ordinary; just school children singing. She did clearly remember, however, the part when it was done. Tobirama regarded the madly bowing Ino with amusement, unable to help feeling fond of the curtsying girl. This was the reason why he wanted to found Konoha. Why he’d put up with all those horrible council meetings and plots and manipulative people even after his whole family had left him, all those years he’d been alone. It was worth it when he saw things like this.  When he got to imagine Ita or Kawa in the place of the beaming Ino.

Yamanaka, by the way, seemed to have charmed the audience as easily as she had him, who all continued clapping for the extastic girl – and classmates – well after the performance was over. Ino was at the very center of the line of children – first row, gathering all the attention. She stood hand in hand with Haruno, though Haruno had ducked into the row behind Yamanaka’s and seemed to be actively shrinking into herself to avoid the notice of the thunderously clapping crowd, almost as if the noise scared her. The thrilled Ino didn’t seem to notice, though she must have, as she remembered. Ino’s happiness was infectious, her beaming smile even managing to get Haruno to smile back.

“Sakura-chan! Come on! Let’s go find our parents!” Ino exclaimed, bodily dragging the  surprisingly meek Haruno off the stage right behind her.

They’d climbed down the steps with the rest of the kids, and Ino’s parents were immediately upon them, praising her to the moon and back. Then they noticed Sakura.

“Oh!” her mother’s eyes widened. “Is this Sakura-chan?”

Haruno had looked faintly shocked when  Ino’s mother began to coo over her, claiming she was so cute and praising her and Ino’s singing. Then Ino’s father told her Haruno was happy to finally meet “the famous Sakura-chan”, and even the Nara parents joked with her that she should lend their Shika some of her work ethic – signalling that they also knew who she was.

When they had finally stopped cooing over the two girls, Sakura had turned to Ino. Her expression was a study in bewilderment. “How do they know who I am?” she whispered.

“Sakura-chan,” Ino exclaimed, in a way that was reminiscent of an indignant Hashirama. “You’re my best friend! Of course they know all about you!”

The memory skipped forward again, showing the  two young girls giggling together next to the adults for maybe fifteen minutes – Ino’s  parents had turned back to talk to the Nara couple – when the blonde had apparently remembered that Haruo’s own parents were still in the back of the auditorium somewhere.

“Oh! Sakura-chan! Let’s go look for your parents now!”

Sakura looked at her with a strained smile. “I can head there alone, don’t worry, Ino-chan.”

“But I still have to ask them if they want the photos, remember?”

“But won’t your parents get mad if you leave?” Sakura was looking around shiftily again.

“Mom, dad, can I go say hi to Sakura-chan’s parents in the back?” Ino asked loudly, talking over her parents. Her father smiled at her and waved her off. “But come back!” he warned, and then Ino bossily took Sakura’s hand and dragged her to the back of the room.

“Onward!”

Sakura was largely quiet as they looked around the auditorium. Another class was performing, so they had to be quiet, but Ino couldn’t refrain from a loud groan. “Where are they? I can’t see anything in this dark!”

“It’s okay, Ino-chan. I’ll find them when the lights go on again. You should go back to your parents…”

“Are you kidding? I still didn’t ask about the photos!”

And so Ino had stayed glued to an increasingly more uncomfortable Sakura’s side until the final audition was over– still no sight of Sakura’s parents. Then the lights went back on, the auditorium doors opened and all the parents and kids had started streaming out. Ino and Sakura had gone out too, looking around the brightly lit entrance hall for a sign of purple hair or pale blond, but there was nothing.

Ino suggested they play a clap game to pass the time, until Sakura’s parents found them. Sakura agreed, and a while later some of the other girls joined them and it was great until their parents started telling them to go home, one by one, until only Ino and Sakura were left.

Eventually, even Ino’s family, who had been standing around talking to the other parents, finally came to bear down on Ino for good.

“Ino-chan, it’s getting late. Why don’t you say goodbye to Sakura-chan?” her mother suggested.

“No, mum! Please let me stay a little longer!” Ino whined for the fifth time.

“Ino-chan…” Her mother glanced pointedly at her watch.

“But Sakura-chan’s parents still haven’t come out!” Ino yelled. “I have to ask them about the photos! They were sitting in the back so they couldn't have taken any good pictures!”

The adults went silent for a moment.

“Did you lose your parents in the crowd, Sakura-chan?” Yamanaka senior asked kindly. “Would you like help  looking for them?”

Sakura looked down at her soft pink skirt and then back up at him. “That’s alright, sir. I think I’ll just go home.”

Tobirama knew Yamanaka senior’s type: people like him were like the sea: they  knew when to press onward and when to pull back. “Would you like us to walk you, then?” the blonde man offered with a comforting smile.

Sakura had looked down at her feet. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yes, please! Can we walk her? Please?”

“It’s really not….”

“Nonsense! You know the way, Sakura-chan?”

It had started snowing while inside the auditorium, and the families walked together, the two young girls catching snowflakes with their tongue and furtively scooping up snow to try and shove it down each other’s collars. 

Then they’d made it to Sakura’s street and Sakura had pointed out a large house in the distance.

“Well, that’s me…” she said with a small, slightly  strained smile. “Thanks for walking me.” She bowed politely to Ino’s family.

“You have a two story house?” Ino burst out, completely ruining Sakura’s bow. 

“Yes…?” Sakura said awkwardly. “Three, if you count the attic.”

“You have an attic ? Is it scary?!”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s so cool!” Ino enthused. “My house is traditional so we don’t have any stairs! I wish so badly we had stairs so that I could slide down from the banister! Do you have a banister you can slide down from?”

“There is a banister…” Sakura hedged. 

“Oh, sweet! Can we go inside and slide down?” Ino exclaimed.

“Ino,” her father had interrupted, his tone warning. The blonde girl pouted up at him, but dropped the subject, glancing up at Sakura’s old home in the distance instead.  That was when it became apparent that the lights were on. No one said anything, the group falling into silence for the last few meters until they reached the house.

When they finally reached the front door, Sakura pulled a set of keys out  of her pocket (Ino regarding them with great jealousy) and turned to give the family a wave.

“Thank you for walking me, Yamanaka-san, Nara-san. I’ll see you at school, Ino-chan.”

The usual platitudes followed, then  Sakura turned and stuck the keys in the lock. Ino watched on enviously, wishing she had house keys too. The lock clicked satisfyingly and the door opened.

“Bye,” Sakura said again, before slipping through  the crack in the door and softly closing it behind her.

Ino turned to frown at her parents and uncle Shikaku and Aunty Yoshino, their expressions plastered with matching frowns. 

“Maybe her parents left the lights on so no thieves could break in while they were at the auditorium,” Ino suggested. “Do you think, dad? They’re going to be so surprised when they get back and Sakura’s already there!”

Yamanaka senior just patted her head grimly and said nothing.

When Ino had been six, she and her mom had made  birthday invitation cards for all of her friends, so that Ino could give them to them at school. Her dad had helped her write  them with his fanciest handwriting, her mother had designed the colour scheme and her auntie gave Ino pressed flowers from her shop for free. Mom had a gown her how to press them and helped Ino paste them to the birthday invitations. The card with the prettiest flowers had been reserved for Sakura. Ino remembered that day still, going to the Academy with all her cards for her classmates… she’d been  so excited, especially for Sakura’s reaction.

And at first, it had been everything that Ino had dreamed, Sakura had been over the moon to get the card… but then, on the great day, Ino had waited and waited by the door, and all of her classmates had shown up, one by one, with their flower cards… but for Sakura.  Sakura never came.

Ino had been  so furious and hurt, she didn’t talk to Sakura the next day at school at all. If she’d had to cancel it she couldn’t make it, she could’ve told Ino! She’d promised she’d show up so why didn’t she?

But ever reasonable,  Ino’s parents had talked her into forgiving Sakura for such a silly offense and going back to being friends. Ino had approached her the next day at school and asked why Sakura hadn’t come to the party, and Sakura had explained that she’d gotten sick right before going, and then she’d started to cry in that heart-breaking Sakura way, and then Ino had started to cry and they’d talked about how great the party had been but lacking at the same time without Sakura there to play with Ino.  And, seeing how sorry Sakira was that she couldn’t go, Ino had instantly forgiven her and  they’d made up, the matter forgotten.

Except the next year, the same thing happened again. And then again.

There were things about Sakura that didn’t make sense, didn’t fit. It was the Yamanaka’s way to solve the jigsaw puzzles surrounding them, and Ino had attempted to solve Sakura, even at such a young age.

When Ino was about to turn eight,  she had made an even prettier card –   and her mother had come up with a phrasing that really insisted Sakura was very welcome to attend. When Ino gave her the card at school, Sakura had looked happy, but it was a dim sort of happiness. The next day, at school, she told her she couldn’t go to the party because she had a dentist appointment. The two prior years she’d had the flue unexpectedly. And twice may be a coincidence, but three times?

Ino had cried about it all the way home, threatening to lock herself in her room if her parents didn’t change the date of the birthday… her parents had gently explained that maybe Sakura’s parents didn’t allow her to go, and that that didn’t mean Sakura didn’t like her. 

That year, Ino had gotten really mad. Everybody in their class went to their best friend’s houses now, but Sakura never invited Ino to hers, never invited Ino to her birthday, refused invitations to visit Ino’s house too with dumb excuses. She’d always come up with some reason for why she couldn’t go – anything so that Ino wouldn’t get mad – Sakura’s parents would be busy with work, or they didn’t like it when she left with strangers, or a million other things… 

“You know, her parents are civilians, Ino-chan. They might be wary of letting their daughter visit a ninja clan compound,” her father had told her.

“But that’s so unfair! And stupid! Isn’t she going to ninja school?”

Her parents had suggested Ino invite Sakura to hang out at school, if she wanted to play with her after classes let out, because clearly inviting her on plastered wasn’t working. So Ino had pulled Sakura aside the next morning and proposed joining the choir, the theater club, the band… anything really, anything Sakura may like enough to agree to her idea. She had lobbied for her idea on end for a week, but again Sakura had refused, citing that she had to study to get good grades.

So she prefers doing divisions at home to playing with me?

Ino had gotten mad at that: really mad. And hurt. And her parents may have warned her not to get mad at Sakura-cha, but she’d still been a little kid. She’d exploded and given Sakura an ultimatum.  It had taken her literally threatening to end their friendship for Sakura to finally cave and agree to join the choir for an hour a week after a very tearful argument.

An hour.

In hindsight, it may have been cruel of her to threaten ending their friendship, but Ino had felt vindicated when Sakura had so obviously enjoyed their time in the choir… even if her parents never showed up to the performance.

Well, some of it she’d enjoyed. Before every recitals, Sakura would get so anxious, revising the song again and again as if it was a test, where really, they’d just joined for fun. It was just like during class: a few days before every test, Sakura would get really quiet and barely talk. She’d be so nervous that she couldn’t eat anything and her hands would be freezing like snow. The morning before the test was the worst, Sakura wouldn’t speak a word at all, off in her own world.

Yes,  Sakura had always had these little oddities. And at first, Ino’s parents hadn’t been overly interested when Ino mentioned them, but after that incident with her Sakura’s mom being  home during the choir performance, Ino’s parents had suddenly gotten it into their head that they wanted to meet Sakura ‘more from up close’ – namely, she was going to attend Ino’s next birthday party come hell or high water.

Ino was so pleased that they’d changed their minds about ‘respecting civilian boundaries’. Her crusade to get them to force Sakura to attend had finally worked! If only her attempts to get them to buy her a puppy would be so effective…

A week before the party, when Ino’s invitation still hadn’t been confirmed by Sakura’s parents, Ino and her dad went personally to Sakura’s house to extend the birthday invitation. Which was a great honor since her dad was a clan head.

Sakura’s father was the one who opened the door. He was big and with a beard and purple hair.

“Hello, I’m Yamanaka Inoichi,” her dad introduced himself with a polite bow. “Ino-chan is good friends with your Sakura-chan.”

“Yamanaka, did you say? From the ninja clan?” The man looked at them from behind his beard.

Ino nodded, giving him her best, sunniest beam. “That’s right, mister! But we’re really nice, I promise.”

Sakura’s dad had scratched his beard and stood aside to allow them passage. “Come in, come in.  Sakura is studying in her room.”

Ino had seen Sakura peer down at them from a window when they’d arrived, so she’d been expecting Sakura to be downstairs already to receive them, but there was no sign of her.

“Mister, where’s Sakura-chan’s room?” Ino asked. “Can I go see her?”

“Ino,” her dad scolded immediately. “I’m so sorry, Haruno-san, she’s just excited.”

“Ah, happens to the best of us,” the man with the beard chuckled. “SAKURA! Get down now!”

“That’s okay, sir. I saw her waving at me from the window, you don’t have to call her,  she already knew we’re here!” Ino said. Maybe she’s busy cleaning her room so I don’t see it’s a mess and that’s why she didn’t come down yet!

The man made a weird face, then Sakura was downstairs and the two girls had been allowed to excuse themselves while Ino’s dad talked to Sakura’s.

Sakura had shown her the house – it was as spacy as Ino had imagined, and the banister was great for sliding, even if it seemed to make Sakura anxious when Ino had tried it out. There was nothing scary at all about the attic – Sakura had lied! – but the library sure was big. Then they’d finally reached the end of the tour: Sakura’s bedroom.

“I thought your favorite color was red? There’s nothing red in your room!” was Ino’s first observation.

The walls of Sakura’s room were white, the floor was a fancy gray type of wood, the bookshelves were made of the same grey wood, her bed covers were black, and there was a painting of a fruit bowl in a corner and a world map in the other.

The bedroom was about the size of Ino’s, with a big desk that had all her study notes open and lots of bookshelves. There was a closet filled with expensive civilian clothes Ino was so envious of. They were much prettier than her ninja clothes.  Ino wished she could be so daring as to wear such cute dresses to  school, but her mom had prohibited it, saying she couldn’t wear any cute dresses until she was a genin. The clothes Ino was forced to wear until graduation were generally black or dark purple at the most, so as to hide dust and grass marks better – and baggy so as to allow a greater range of movement.

Sakura’s closet was full of stockings and ballerina shoes and dresses worthy of a doll. Every girl in class was jealous of Sakura’s wardrobe – or had been, until she’d started wearing the same dress all the time and ignoring all the others. Probably because sensei had yelled at her a couple times for wearing stockings to class and civilian dresses, which he said were impractical for hiding weapons and running.

Ino perused Sakura’s closet enviously for a while, pulling out outfits and holding them in front of herself in the mirror, pretending to Sakura that she was a princess or a geisha. Sakura didn’t seem to be having a lot of fun with this, though, so Ino paused in her dramatics.

Then she noticed Sakura’s usual outfit from the closet and tilted her head in surprise. She’d imagined Sakura’s closet would be full of many versions of this outfit because it was practically the only thing she wore to school – but there was only one green dress. Ino arched her eyebrows in surprise, running her hands over the material. From up close, it seemed worn, like it had been washed too many times. For all that Sakura’s closet was stocked to capacity, she always wore this one outfit… how odd.  It was the ugliest by far, too. Not quite on the level of pants (Sakura didn’t own any) but almost there. The green dress had little cuts in the sleeve that revealed Sakura’s shoulders and arms, plus some pink cherry blossoms drawn on the front. Sakura had started wearing it every day after sensei for once had refrained from critiquing her, merely sighing and going:  ‘at least this one’s breathable’.

Bleh! Sakura was such a teacher’s pet for listening to him. Who took a sensei’s fashion advice? The other dresses were cuter. Ino put the green dress away with irritation. What a waste.

Finally, she got bored of the closet and moved on to inspecting the rest of the room.

“You don’t have any plush animals?” she asked, ditching the cute dresses in favor of Sakura’s bed, which was neatly made and empty of plushies safe for a pillow. Ino suddenly felt a little self-conscious about her own stuffed husky. 

Sakura looked back at her and gave a faint shrug. “Plush animals? Like a stuffed bear?”

“I guess?” Duh, girl. How do you not know what a plushie is?

“Isn't that for babies?” Sakura asked with a frown. “I prefer books.”

Ino frowned too, fisting the pale blue bed covers, wanting to defend herself. I’m not a baby! Was it such a baby thing to have a plushie when you were eight?

“What about dolls?” she asked. “Do you have any?”

“I have one,” Sakura replied, reaching into a drawer and withdrawing a headless Barbie.

“Where’s the head?” Ino asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you have any other games?”

Sakura proceeded to show her a bunch of memory card games and sudoku books and a shogi board. She also had one fake doctor’s kit clearly meant for much smaller kids, and of course her marble collection.  Sakura priced her glass marbles over everything, but she only had so many because she won them off other kids at the playground.

What a boring room, Ino thought, peering beneath the bed – there was nothing there. Not even a pair of slippers. Where were Sakura’s slippers? She was walking barefoot.

“Where are your bunny slippers?” Ino asked. “I thought you told me you had cute bunny slippers!”

“My dad was going to buy them for me if I got a good grade in the maths test, but I didn’t get it,” Sakura supplied.

Ino gave Sakura a look and rolled her eyes. Sakura glanced away. Ino saw the almost shamed expression and frowned.

Hold on, the maths test? Didn’t Sakura ace that like she did everything else?

Ino bit her lip and turned to the bookshelves, the only uninspected thing that was left.

Why don’t you have any toys, Sakura? Why don’t you have those stupid bunny slippers?

Ino knew that Sakura loved playing with toys, whatever she said about being so mature she only liked books. She’d shrieked with laughter at that crocodile toy whose teeth you had to remove which Choji had brought to school the other day. She had adored Akari’s labyrinth board game when they’d played it during recess. She’d been eyeing Kazumi’s arm warmers enviously all year. She always insisted they play jump the rope during P.E..

Yet there was no jumping rope in her room, no arm warmers, no crocodile and no board games. Only books.

The shelves of her room were full of textbooks for the most part. There were only a couple of very dogeared adventure novels Ino had seen much older kids reading, but it had to be less than a dozen in total. Ino had more adventure novels than that  and she didn’t even like to read, but it was such a typical grown up present that she’d accumulated a fair few over the years. Yet Sakura had less than her?

Why does your room look like an old man’s?

There was an Earth globe on her desk of all things and a model of a ship on one of the book shelves.

“You like ships?” Ino asked awkwardly, inspecting the ship model. Sakura had never shown an interest in ships, as far as she knew. The model seemed more like something a middle-aged man would keep in his office.

Sakura gave a shrug and placed the ship model back on its shelf.

‘She definitely just speed cleaned this room and hid all the plushies so as to seem more mature,’ Ino concluded by the end of the visit. It had to be that. 

TWO Years ELEVEN Months TWO weeks Before YANAGI

“Spoiler alert, she didn’t,” Ino said, returning them to the real world with a flick of her hands.

Tobirama, who had discretely grabbed onto a table to avoid falling over while he was inside her mind, released and frowned deeply.

He hated seeing children with hard lives. Still – he could see this for what it was. Just a tactic by Yamanaka geared to make him like Haruno more. Yamanaka hadn’t even shown him anything particularly damning, just… little hints. Breadcrumbs.

“I didn’t have any toys growing up, either,” Tobirama said with an eye roll, “yet you don’t see me acting suspicious.”

Ino rolled her eyes. “It’s not a competition, Tobirama-sama.”

“Isn’t it? Seems like you’re trying to score some pity points for your friend,” Tobirama replied, raising his brows.

Ino raised her hands into the air. “Well, maybe I am! I just… I want you to understand Sakura better. I want you two to get along. I don’t want her working alone on this project.”

“Then maybe you should be running to her and trying to score pity points on my behalf,” Tobirama said scornfully. “She’s the one who is being difficult, summoning Uchiha Itachi, refusing to return the the lab…”

Ino sighed. “Look. Nidaime-sama, I hate to say this, but your experiments with the edo tensei haven’t made you very popular in present-day Konoha. People liken you to Orochimaru and Kabuto these days. Tsunade avoids being tied to your name, only ever going as Hashirama-sama’s grandniece… the Uchiha blame you for the massacre of their clan. All of them are people who have had great influence in Sakura’s life, in one way or another – even Orochimaru shaped her life, through Sasuke’s  kidnapping. I can’t tell you how much  Sakura despises that Oto snake, how much she admires Tsunade and loves Sasuke. All of them are people who… who don’t really like you.” Ino’s eyes were full of pity as she delivered these bombs.

Even… even Tsuna? Tobirama thought his breath may have caught in his chest. Tsuna had renounced him? No one wanted to even be mentioned in association with him? No one except child-kidnapping monsters like Orochimaru?

“I… I’m sorry,” Ino went on. “But I think the problem is just – if Sakura got along with you swimmingly… that would unsettle her. She would wonder what that said about her. She’s already doubting her own morals because  of these experiments, I think, and… liking you… I believe Sakura would take it as a confirmation, in her mind, that she’s more like Orochimaru and Danzo than she wants to be.”

“But she is a lot like Orochimaru,” Tobirama pointed out.

“She’s not, ” Ino snapped. “She would never harm a child. Ever. She’s extremely particular about that. And… yes, she may be a little manipulative, but that’s just because she’s skilled at handling people. When you’re good at reading others, it’s hard not to use those insights to improve your own  social relationships.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” Tobirama snorted. “So Haruno – the actively manipulative individual, out of the two of us, who has been involved in some sort of biohazard weapon project that probably resulted in mass deaths, who has killed countless people to research immortality, and doesn’t even have a personal investment in the bringing back someone deceased – you’re saying that Haruno is holding onto her high moral ground after all she’s done so far? After all the people she’s killed with her experiments–”

“–those people were slated for execution anyway–”

“–after breaking into the secret Hokage archives and stealing my Scroll of the Dead, after desecrating my grave, she’s still lording her moral high ground over  me?” 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Ino said, frowning. “Are you familiar with Danzo Shimura?”

Tobirama frowned, halting his tirade to dig through his memory. “Shimura?” He blinked for a moment, trying to link the name to a person. Then it clicked. Ah… that was Crickety-chakra. Right. “Yes. Shimura. He worked under me during the Second Shinobi War.”

Ino took a deep breath. “Yes – well, Shimura was known for… kidnapping children and brainwashing them into becoming his private black ops, then forcing them into these gruesome and macabre training exercises consistent of murdering each other–”

Tobirama felt himself getting sick. Crickety chakra? What? “Shimura did that? Shimura Danzo?” Tobirama barely remembered the man, but… he had seemed relatively normal. A bit on the cowardly side and a a glory hound; striving to make up for what he lacked in courage and skill with his cunning, but weren’t all shinobi like that? Didn’t their world recompense those capable of great cunning?

“Yes, Danzo Shimura,” Ino said, her chakra coiling in disgust as she spoke the name. “Anyway, Shimura has been a blight on Konoha pretty much since your death. He created Root… he was behind the Uchiha massacre, for the kidnapping of so many children, he encouraged the ostracism against the Uchiha,” Ino went on. “And if you’re wondering what this has to do with you – Danzo Shimura used your name to do a lot of it. He used your research on the Curse of Hatred to defend the segregation imposed on the Uchiha, he used your example as reasoning why children needed to be bred for war with blood and suffering, and he took his cues from your conception of ANBU to create Root.” Ino paused. “Shimura was… he was your most fervent admirer… and the worst thing that has happened to Konoha in possibly… ever. Except for maybe Madara and Orochimaru. But oh – Orochimaru also idolized you, and based his obsession on immortality of off your research and accomplishments with the edo tensei… and as for Madara, well, everyone believes it was your actions who drove him mad. Your killing his brother. I hate to say this, Tobirama-sama, but…  You were probably the only common ground some of the worst, most depraved people of Konoha have ever had.”

He was officially going to be sick. Tobirama braced his weight against the cool lab table, trying to ground himself.

“Of course, a lot of people admired you,” Ino quickly added, perhaps noticing his growing urge to retch into a bin, her chakra quivering guiltily. “But the thing is – hopefully you can see why to Sakura, who is already tethering on the edge of the amoral, would want to distance herself from you. I believe it’s a sort of… sort of… a way of reassuring herself that she isn’t like them.”

Tobirama sighed. “I suppose… I can see that,” he admitted, frowning. He shook his head to clear it. Why must he bear this curse? Was he truly so rotten that he only attracted the admiration of such monsters? Even Tsuna refused to speak in his favour now?

Tobirama didn’t consider himself as someone easily hurt by the words of others, but this had shaken him. Why couldn’t he have  left a normal legacy? Was that so much to ask for? Was Yamanaka saying he was at fault for all the horrors that had ever befallen Konoha? Was that truly so? Did Shimura really take his cues from him? Orochimaru?

Tobirama wanted to be sick.

Even if this revelation about his—reputation in the present—explained Haruno’s irrational dislike for him, he thought he would’ve preferred to remain in the dark about the matter.

But how could all these people believe that about him? Tsuna… he didn’t even want to think about that. But Haruno, for instance. Haruno more than anyone should understand that he wasn’t… he wasn’t evil. And yet she apparently held a grudge against him for things she herself had done. For researching the same topic she was now researching. For ending a war when given the chance.

Tobirama wanted to grab the woman by the shoulder and shake her, wanted to defend himself to her; an urge he seldom felt. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but he wanted to make her see... Haruno was arguably as bad as he was, in terms of being an ‘crazy scientist’ type. Yamanaka had said so: they were two peas in a pod. And after having seen read her articles, after witnessing the lengths she went to to hide her research, the brilliance of her cypher… he knew they were two peas in a pod.

And it made his blood boil that she’d still dare to look down on him for the very traits she herself possessed plentifully. It wasn’t fair she’d try to feel better about her own dubious morality by sneering at his.

Why do I even care what she thinks of me? he wondered.

He’d had a half hour conversation with the woman that had ended in mutual dislike, then stalked her for a week and concluded, again, that he disliked her, that she was seven-faced and similar to Izuna yet more brilliant – and he hated two-faced people and he feared Izuna.

He had spent one week, nights included, obsessing about this woman’s many suspicious traits.  It was almost hard to remember he had also seen positive things in her. It suited him to dislike her, if he were honest, because she had disliked him first.

And yet it incensed him that she thought he was some morally-reprehensible monster.

He couldn’t put his finger on why Haruno was different from anyone he had met before, but she just was, and for some reason he suddenly wanted to make her admit that he wasn’t like that at all. He had never met anyone as her, with a mind like hers. So similar to him and her so starkly opposite.
Meeting her had been like coming across a unicorn in the middle of a dirty city. First of all, unicorns shouldn’t exist, and if they did, their existence was suspicious. Once getting over that, one would see the apparent purity of the unicorn, and if one was Tobirama, grow suspicious of it, for no creature could be that pure. Third, one would realize that it was a normal horse which had stuck a horn to its head, and then one would realize that a horse that did that was not normal and that the horn could be incredibly dangerous.

(Yes, Tobirama was aware he was horrible at metaphors but this had more or less been his thought process after meeting Haruno.)

And yet, fake unicorn or not, Haruno was responsible for some amazing things. 
She had found vaccines for some of Konoha’s worst incurable diseases. She had managed to regrow an arm for Uzumaki Naruto. She had done incredible work in the study of organ transplantation, saving… probably thousands and ten thousands of lives by coming up with a surefire way to transplant organs. She had looked into dismantling curse marks and deadly seals – inventing a whole new branch of medicine. With her different inventions, Haruno had saved – theoretically – infinite lives, if one took into account all the lives her work would still save in the future. She was even now still slaving away at some project to help a man she knew off his wheelchair, even while juggling the edo tensei research.

Heruno had done all that – and she had told no one. That alone was proof that perhaps not all of her secrets were nefarious. Maybe she was a good person after all. 

When he compared her medical inventions to his own… Yes, he had come up with so many jutsu and seals in his life – many of them much more lauded than Haruno’s alias-published work –  but were any of them ultimately good ? Yes, he’d invented the Hiraishin, which had technically allowed him (and later Namikaze) to end two, or even three separate wars – but  no one could deny that his Hiraishin had a bloody history.

He had saved people by taking the lives of others, always creating tools of bloodshed. Even when he had actively  attempted not to, for example by inventing preservation seals meant to help the injured survive the trip from the battle-field back home – those preservation seals had eventually ended up becoming the bread and butter of bounty hunters, increasing the amount of kekkei genkai thieves by a factor of twenty. Those seals may be the reason his clan had gotten extinct.

It seemed as if all his inventions, no matter how well-intentioned, always had bloody consequences. Sometimes, many times, if he were honest, he had felt as if everything he touched went rotten. Had he been Midas all along? Always destroying everything he came across, even if it bore a golden luster? Sure, his jutsu were infamous. Sure, he was acclaimed as the greatest inventor of all time, with the sharpest mind. But what was that worth, if all he got was spilled blood? Bloody corpses? Wars with resurrected undead?

So – Haruno.  He resented her for all the good she had been able to do with her medicine. He even resented how popular she was, how many friends she seemed to have, though admitting this was like pulling teeth.  

Haruno, with her saintly actions and personality, avoided all negative scrutiny that came with what she was doing, yet somehow got all the praise despite how she actively hid most of her research, publishing it under false names.  Haruno was overlooked, and yet that somehow made her closer to people, even when she kept her distance.

Meanwhile, he was the opposite. His whole life, people had instinctively understood that something was different about him and had kept their wary distances – but not with her. She was given a choice. Now he understood that. She had picked not getting credit for her achievements in exchange for popularity, and it seemed so frivolous and stupid to him, but at the same time…

He shook his head. His whole life, he had striven to never be overlooked, because it was the only thing he had going for him. But Haruno – she was so different.  How could she just be content having her intellect and accomplishments fall into obscurity like this? Even the vaccines she’d invented he only knew about through the journals Yamanaka had provided, as Haruno had published her work on them under aliases. The woman deliberately went out of her way to be underestimated. To appear like just one more of the crowd.

She does it to camouflage herself with her environment, with society’s standards, a voice in his head whispered. She knows if she didn’t hide, if she was open about her Otherness the way you were, she’d be alone. So she lies. She uses her vested social skills to get people in her corner. She lies and pretends she’s this innocuous little medic… and you hate that. You hate that because after that awful life you’ve lived, you finally recognize hers is a winning strategy, and that’s bloody unfair. That’s just sad. You hate that she dares to believe her own lies and look down on you for things she has done as well. You hate that for all her so-called emotional skills, she’s too unaware to see your face in the mirror.

“Tobirama-sama?” Yamanaka’s voice came from behind him. He turned around to regard her, realizing he had been silent for too long.  Without another word, he walked into the kitchen adjacent to the lab and shut the door in her face.

She protested from beside the door, but he didn’t answer.

TWO years TWO weeks Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

“Look, nidaime-sama,” Ino concluded with a huff, “we had a deal. After those memories I showed you, you need to  cooperate with me here, yeah? Just like the research notes I brought you. Do  something to show Sakura you don’t actually think she’s, y’know, a bug so far beneath you you’d need a magnifying glass to so much as glimpse her. Just… win her over. Please.”

They didn’t have a deal and Yamanaka was lying about that, but she had a point. It would benefit him to play nice, at least until he could discern more about Haruno’s motives.

“I… am not good at this type of thing,” Tobirama sighed. And he didn’t want to make any sort of gestures, either. What would even appease Haruno, anyway? She’d clearly already set her mind on hating him.

Ino couldn’t really blame Tobirama for his reservations; Sakura could be so stubborn, she had actually thought it was more likely Tobirama may see reason first.

“Tobirama-sama, just answer this,” Ino tried. “Do you actually want to be involved in our project, or do you want Sakura to keep going alone, and possibly either succeed and not resurrect your family because you pissed her off, or fail and also not resurrect your family? If you help her–”

“Alright, I get it. You don’t need to repeat it yet again,” Tobirama snapped. “Fine, I’ll make a gesture. But she’d better get rid of the  Izuna clone afterwards.”

Ino raised a brow. Izuna clone? Was that another type of shadow clone?

“Izuna was someone from my time,” Tobirama said, as if reading her mind. “The man Haruno has summoned reminds me of him, appearance-wise. Is this Uchiha Itachi from the main Uchiha clan branch?”

Ino nodded uncertainly.

“I see…” Tobirama said. “Do you know what his Mangekyo Sharingan can do?”

“Uh… he was said to be able to bend time inside his illusions and make black fire appear at a glance. Flames that never burned out. Why?”

Tobirama crossed his arms. “Because he brought up mind-controlling  me with his Sharingan during his conversation with Sakura, which does make you wonder what he meant.”

Ino froze a little. “Mind controlling you?”

Tobirama gave a simple shrug. “Worry not. Whatever he tries, his eyes won’t work on me. But that begs the question who else they might work on?”

“You think he’d try to use his eyes on Sakura?” Ino asked aghast. “There’s no way! She’s controlling him with the edo tensei!”

“Hm,” Tobirama said vaguely.

Ino bit her lip. “It is true that there are rumors though… rumors that Itachi managed to break free of the edo tensei during the war. That he fought his control and was able to kill Kabuto, the person who controlled him,  thanks to that.”

Well, it wasn’t so much rumors as Sasuke telling everyone, but Ino still maintained Sasuke could’ve been lying to improve his late brother’s social standing.

“Well, there you have it. Uchiha is a threat,” Tobirama concluded. “And we need to get rid of him.”

Yeah, well… Good luck getting Sakura to listen to that. The Billboard Brow could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. Ino knew they had their work cut out for them.

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

Classes were finally over with. Sakura hadn’t been able to concentrate all day, worried about what Itachi may have gotten up to while he was alone in her house… she was therefore anxious to get home when–

“Forehead, what the hell?!”

Sakura hadn’t even made it out of the Academy proper when Ino assaulted her.

“What’s up, Ino?”

Despite her exhaustion, today Sakura had been in a good mood. The thought  that she had Itachi on her side soothed all her concerns about Ino forcing her to summon Tobirama. She was back in control, back in the game.

“What do you mean, what’s up?! We need to talk about what you did yesterday night!”

Yesterday night…? So she already knew about her summoning Itachi? But how?

Sakura tensed, narrowing her eyes at Ino. “Alright. Mind if I shunshin us to mine?”

Ino shook her head curtly and they were off.

A moment later, they’d reappeared in her living room. Itachi was sitting on the couch, slurping on some tea and reading a newspaper.  Ino’s mouth dropped open.

“So it’s true!” She rounded on Sakura. “You – why would you–?!”

“You’re the one who forced my hand,” Sakura hissed, crossing her arms. “Look, I’ve been thinking, and I really don’t need Tobirama’s help. Itachi’s assistance will be more than enough.”

Itachi tipped his glass at them from the couch. They both stared at him for a moment, then back at each other. “Forehead, what the hell,” Ino repeated. “We agreed on Tobirama! Not Itachi!”

“Itachi is  even more suited for the task than Tobirama,” Sakura argued. “He can use that weird chakra ogre to keep me safe.”

“Itachi doesn’t understand the resurrection process!”

“He doesn't need to. That’s my job,” Sakura said imperiously. “As long as he stays on stand by, I’ll be fine.”

“Sakura, I think I made myself clear before,” Ino said, her tone lowering. “My conditions are non-negotiable. You’re working with Tobirama or I’m tattling.”

“Damn it – why?!” Sakura snapped.

“Because I said so! Now, you’re going to meet with him and–”

“I will not be meeting with that despot, thank you very much.”  

“Yes you will!”

Sakura frowned deeply.

“Sakura-san, it’s probably for the best that we go meet him,” Itachi said from the couch. “Also, it’s called Susano’o. Not chakra ogre.”

“He should stay where he is,” Ino said with a huff. “Chakra ogre or not! Forehead, why did you even summon this dude? He’s useless to us!”

Itachi gave her an unimpressed stare and folded his newspaper. Then he carefully placed his tea cup on the little coffee table and got up from the couch. Walked over to Ino, until he was looming over her. Then, he spoke.

“Stay out of this, Yamanaka.”

To her credit, Ino didn’t flinch back, too seasoned an interrogator to show anything on her face, but she did frown up  at him, as if deliberating on whether to keep arguing or not. Itachi’s words rang in the silence. Though their cadence was mild, there was something indescribably aggressive about them.

Finally, fear of Itachi seemed to win out and Ino merely pursed her lips and stared at the floor. Then she hastily made for the door. “Whatever. Let’s just… go to the lab.”

She didn’t mention anything about Itachi not coming with them this time.

Sakura was impressed – and wary. She’d never seen Ino cave so quickly during an argument. Then again, Ino did just get threatened by Uchiha Itachi.

Sakura frowned.  “I’ll be right with you,  Ino. You go ahead.”

Ino eyed them silently, but then caved again, crossing the room to leave. She reluctantly closed the door and walked out of the flat.

Sakura turned back to Itachi. “What was that?”

Itachi looked back at her steadily.  “If you are concerned about getting me to your lab unseen, rest assured that that will not be an issue. If my crows can get  in, then so can I. I will join you once you arrive.”

“Itachi-san, you know that’s not what I meant. Why did you just threaten Ino?”

“I don’t think I threatened her. I just told her–”

“Cut the bullshit. We both know what you did.”

Itachi frowned at her for a moment. “I’m sorry, Sakura-san. I didn’t realize this would bother you.”

“It does. I don’t care how you deal with Tobirama, but if I see you threatening Ino again…”

“You won’t,” Itachi promised.

Sakura stared at him for a moment, fixedly. “Kakashi, Ino, Tenten, Tsunade. These people are off limits,” she said curtly. “If you do anything to impact their well being negatively, you will be sorry.”

Itachi nodded, once. “You left out Naruto and Sasuke.”

Sakura shrugged. “They can defend themselves.”

That got a raised eyebrow. “And Kakashi or Tsunade can’t?”

Sakura frowned at him. Then clicked her tongue and looked away. “You’re coming with, then?”

Itachi nodded. “Yes – and, Sakura-san. About what Ino said earlier… It’s true that I’m useless to you in the science department, but as you pointed out, I can help you in other ways, and I would like to do that, if you let me. The stealth and secrecy of your operation seems to be a key element to it, and, if you pardon my indiscretion, Haruno-san, I don’t think either you or Yamanaka are taking enough precautions against being caught.”

Sakura crossed her arms. “So then? What would you have me do to take precautions?”

“Nothing, simply leave the task of covering your trail to me,” Itachi replied. “With my crows, I can easily monitor large stretches of land. The entire village has always been within my purview. I can listen to conversations and surveil the goings-on around the lab, including whatever the nidaime does in your absence.”

Sakura nodded, beginning to like where this was going. “I can also, of course, warn you ahead of time, should anyone choose to seek you out at the lab at an inopportune moment.”

“That would be brilliant, actually. Kakashi’s suspicious of me, I think.”

Itachi nodded. “I can also protect you from any explosions  with my Susano’o, or even from Tobirama himself, should he break the control of the edo tensei.”

“Break the control?” Sakura asked aghast.

“Well, he is the creator,” Itachi reasoned. “If anyone could do it, it’s him.”

Sakura’s stomach dropped in unease at the idea of Tobirama breaking control. He couldn’t, right? Otherwise he’d have done so during the Konoha Crush. She frowned.

“Would… you really be able to protect me from him, though?” Sakura eyed Itachi critically, trying to gouge if he could be trusted, and if so, whether he stood a chance against Tobirama. Maybe if they teamed up…

Itachi tipped his head. “I was quite ill for most of my life, Sakura-san. This body is actually an upgrade for me, though from what I gathered, most edo tensei resurrections reported their bodies were much weaker than their former. On the contrary, I am much stronger now than I was during life. I do not know whether I could successfully take on Tobirama, but I would definitely give it a good shot.”

Sakura nodded, pleased with his assessment. “Very well, Itachi. I like your thinking. I’m gonna tell Ino that we’re keeping you around, and that’s that. And either Tobirama gets his act together, or I’ll get rid of him.”

“Hm. Or I could use the Sharingan on him to make him cooperate,” Itachi remarked.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t think that would work,” Sakura said again, surprised by his insistence in using the Sharingan. Plus it’s basically mind control. “Best not try, Itachi. We don’t want that old goat getting too mad at us.”

Itachi gave her a half smirk. “Oh, it would work.”

“Er… just let it be, okay?”

Itachi regarded her pensively for a while, then nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. “Very well then. I will limit to psychological manipulation.”

“That’s… nice,” said Sakura awkwardly. “Um… to what end?”

“To facilitate the nidaime’s cooperation, of course.”

She rather wondered what trick Itachi thought he could pull to manipulate the nidaime, and resolved to be careful around him going forward. She hadn’t known he was manipulative. 

“Let’s just go, shall we?” she turned to smile at Itachi beatifically, inwardly however, she was frowning. Perhaps she shouldn’t have summoned him after all.

He merely gave her a serene smile, the crow on his shoulder cawed once, its Sharingan spinning. “Let’s.”

There was no denying that Itachi was a frightening man around the edges. First the stalking, now this lack of fear of even Senju Tobirama… Sakura scanned him with her gaze carefully. Well, on the upside… at least with Itachi around, Tobirama won’t be wrestling control over my research from me. Suck  on that, Senju!  

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

Sakura noticed three things when she stepped into her lab:

1. The place was impeccably clean in comparison with the ruins she’d left it in, all the rubble gone, the floor fixed and mopped and shiny.
2. The special radioactivity seals she’d put on the walls had been replaced by some other seals she didn’t know.
3. The nidaime was sitting on her chair.

Sakura’s pleasure at the sight of the cleaned lab quickly morphed to fury when she saw whose chair he’d stolen. And worse yet, whose seals he’d replaced. The chair was a symbolic breach of her authority, but the seals… he could’ve modified them to add anything for all she knew. He’d crossed a line. 

“I see that you have taken the liberty to remove all my fuinjutsu arrays, Tobirama-san.”

His eyes met hers from across the room, expression blank like a robot’s. She continued to look straight into those blank eyes as she advanced toward him.

As cold fury brewed within her as her heels clicked over the floor. Distantly, she felt Itachi at her shoulder, keeping pace with her like a shadow. She only noticed Ino in a corner of the room tangentially. She continued walking until making it right to his (her!) chair, at which point she stopped to loom over him.

“Why,” she began, skipping over the usual social  platitudes, “did you change the seals on the walls without my permission?”

“Who said that I changed the seals?” Tobirama asked calmly, raising a brow.

His serene attitude only got on her nerves more. “Because you’re the only one who could have,” she informed him tartly. “Now. What did you do with the original seals?”

“Burnt them.” Tobirama gave a dismissive shrug. “They were hardly efficient enough to deserve being called seals.”

Sakura’s anger flared. She’d borrowed  those original arrays from the hospital. How the hell was she going to return them now!? She didn’t want to admit she’d stolen, no, borrowed hospital property either, least of all to him.

“Please undo all of this  and replace those new seals with the old ones,” she said, keeping a lid on her annoyance.

Tobirama merely regarded her, twirling slightly in his chair.  “Why?” he asked simply, hand propped on his chin, almost as if he were bored.

“Because I told you so, and this is my lab,” she replied, just as simply.

He stopped his twirling them, possibly shocked that a lowly female would dare to talk to him like that.

“I already explained the old seals were hardly efficient at suctioning out  the radioactivity, Haruno.” His eyes were just as blank as before as they bore into hers. “Why do you insist on this point?”

“You could have put anything into the new seals. A spying function, a detonating explosion function, or something that may clash with the ventilation system I have set up,” she explained, keeping her voice level for the sake of his cooperation. “Please replace the new seals.”

“Why? Can’t you see for yourself that the new ones are better?” he asked.

Damn him. He was taunting her about her lack of knowledge in this field. Damn him to hell. Sakura turned  to glare accusingly at Ino. Why are you making me put up with him?! she asked with her eyes.

Mind reader or no, Ino either didn’t know or didn’t care about her inner vexation.

“Aren’t you being dramatic, Forehead? He was nice enough to clean this place up and improve on the seals, and you’re bitching?” the blonde asked, finally intervening – on Tobirama’s behalf!

“He should know not to touch anything in my lab without my permission,” Sakura retorted, turning toward Tobirama again.

“Aren’t you the one who pestered Kakashi for months to design the barrier seal around this place?”

Sakura did not need Ino pointing out that she couldn’t make her own seals.

Furious, she crossed her arms and shot a withering glare at the nidaime. Fine! Whatever. Her unwitting theft of the hospital seals would have to go unaccounted for, because the bastard was above making  replacements for the ones he’d burnt. Fine. But don’t think I’ll forget this, Senju. 

“And I suppose you want me to thank you, Tobirama-san?” she asked. “For cleaning up my lab oh so graciously?”

“A thank you would be the bare minimum, yes,” Tobirama said. 

Well, you’re not getting it, Sakura thought, wishing she could strangle him. The bastard was fucking with her.

Her anger flared again. Most of all, she was angry at herself by letting this business with the seals affect her composure. How did Tobirama get under her skin so easily? She almost never cared about rude people’s comments and lowly plots. Their behavior rarely incensed her, she had better things to think about in her free time. She gave him a smile that could freeze hell. For Ino’s sake, she’d finish this conversation civilly – before getting rid of him.

“I, see. Next time, ask me before making random changes to my space. Yes?” 

Actually, there won’t be  a next time because I’m kicking your zombie ass to the curb. 

Tobirama gave her an unimpressed look, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking.  

He gave a knowing look. “Sure.”

Sakura stared daggers at him. He looked back, his gaze just as penetrating as hers. They used to tell her as a child that she had a thousand yard stare. She had to learn to smile and nod during class, because her default expression, especially while absorbing information, intimidated people. Even some of the teachers had given her unsettled looks. So yes, Sakura had had to learn to fit in, because her default mode was just defective. Right now she was glad for it, as it did mean she could stare Tobirama down where most would have withered under his stare. 

For almost thirty seconds they just looked at each other, straight in the eyes. The non-verbal communication would have positively been violent for a normie’s standards, though apparently Tobirama wasn’t a normie. Sakura was sadly forced to conclude that apparently her thousand yard stare-no jutsu  had no effect on him.

Finally, she gave up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then smiled sweetly. “By the way. That’s my chair you’re sitting on.” Cue expectant pause. Move your ass, bitch.

“There is a perfectly usable chair across the room,” Tobirama asserted, not moving his vested posterior.

“Your observational skills boggle the mind,” she parried, not moving an inch and staring pointedly at her chair.

He stared back at her, then reluctantly stood up.

“Well, since this is obviously some sort of dominance play for you,” Tobirama said, stepping away from her chair and gesturing at it with a flourish – “I won’t keep you from your chair.”

Ugh.

Sakura sat down and glared at him with malice, then took off her shoes and placed her feet on the chair,  twirling around in content. As expected, Tobirama’s jaw ticked tellingly; he was irritated that she was ignoring his taunt. Sakura smiled to herself. She’d pegged him right. Self-important prick. The best way to annoy him would be to rile him up and then ignore him.

She was surprised when her chair’s movements halted – he had caught it at the top – and his voice broke the sudden quiet.

“If you recall, Haruno, you specifically instructed me to remain in this lab and to do nothing to damage the building’s structural integrity. With the explosion that went off in here, and the lack of seals that would protect the walls and pillars, my inaction would’ve been as good as willful cooperation to destroy the place.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Sakura said, though inwardly she was wondering if he may be right. Did his new seals  save the building from collapsing? She’d have to hire a team to have the edifice foundations checked.   For all she knew, he could just have used that as an excuse to plant a bomb in her lab, though. So she responded non-comitally. “I’m glad you were so concerned with following my orders to the letter.”

Tobirama nodded as if not picking up on her sarcasm. “And I’m glad you’re glad,” he said simply. “On that note, I have also completed my assigned reading.”

The sheer sass… “Pardon?” Sakura asked, glancing at Ino with an ‘are you hearing this as well?’ expression. Unfortunately, Ino was  determined not to join in on her attempts to mock Tobirama on his “assigned reading”, and together with Itachi, just stood a ways off, watching them silently.

Sakura irritably glanced away from her traitorous best friend and back at Tobirama.

What the hell was he talking about, anyway? Assigned reading?

He nodded at the binder still on the table, her  notes on the restoration of the spirit. “A riveting read, I must say.”

Sarcasm.

Sakura’s eyelid ticked. Was he… making fun of her intelligence? Sakura clenched her fists. “Oh, really? You’ve read all of it? In a week?” she asked. “And you understood it all?”

“Actually, I have some questions,” Tobirama announced, pulling, of all things, a list out of his pocket.

Sakura could only stare uncertainly as he, much like one reading from a shopping list, began to enunciate:

“Item one. Relative to the procedure detailed on page ten – what is the activation energy and how do you sufficiently lower it to get the described results? Item two…”

He continued to read for some time, Sakura merely watching him with crossed arms. She wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden… shift in attitude, but she didn’t like it. It was clearly a tactic to mollify her. But then, why the sarcasm? Or maybe he wasn’t being sarcastic? Maybe she was just expecting him to look down on her, so she was reading his behavior in the worst light possible? To be on the safe side, she preferred to assume he was being condescending. Once more, she glanced at Ino. This had the Pig written all over it. What did she even say to Tobirama to convince him to pander to her  like this? Well, either way, this mockery had to stop.

“Alright, stop,” Sakura muttered, rolling closer to him on her chair. 

She opened her notes on page ten to check what experiment he had been talking about, and, after noting that it was a procedure that had been invented after his time, frowned at him consideringly. Did he really not understand it? Or was he attempting to manage her feelings? Many men had attempted to do so before. Sakura was ready to strike him down at the first sign of mockery.

“Well? Are you going to explain the graph or not?” Tobirama asked impatiently.

She frowned at him, then back at her notes. Succinctly, she began to go over it. She was expecting that he’d ask for clarification in parts, like ‘what is a restriction endonuclease and what in god’s name do you do need it for?’ but Tobirama posed no questions, and so she gave no extra clarifications. Yes, alright, maybe she wanted him to ask. Get off his high horse and admit for once that he didn’t know something. And his ridiculous shopping list of questions on her work didn’t count. Somehow he’d read it with so much dignity that it only made him sound even more stuck up, not less.

Yet the query Sakura was waiting for did not come. Tobirama never asked her what a restriction endonuclease was. She moved on to his second question, one about a topic discussed in page fifteen, and again, he didn’t interrupt her once during her explanation.

Sensing deceit, Sakura was beginning to get irritated again. Why was he making her waste her time explaining these things when he clearly didn’t plan on attempting to understand them? Or did he already grasp the concepts? She knew it, he was mocking her. Attempting to manage her. Sakura glanced sideways at Ino. This had her paws all over it. She glanced back at Tobirama. 

She’d resurrected him a week ago. Seven days. Alright, if he’d forgone sleep, then that turned into fourteen ‘days’ he could’ve used to study her notes. Conceivably, if he has access to some more books, and has used shadow clones and memory jutsu to speed up his learning…

Narrowing her eyes, Sakura decided to expose his obvious attempt to…whatever it was he was doing. Ino had once told her she was like a human lying detector. Usually, she didn’t bother exposing those who lied to her, but in this case, she wouldn’t be so kind. Without missing a beat, she changed her correct explanation about graph number twenty six  into medical bullshit that would make no sense to anyone who actually understood what she was talking about, but would surely sound very reasonable to an uneducated individual.

Five seconds into her bullshit rant, Tobirama’s expression changed, a brow quirking into a frown-like expression, as though he was honestly confused by what she was saying. The first time so far he’d made any kind of facial  expression. Sakura’s mouth closed with a click.

She was right.

So then… he did understand what she was talking about. He had asked questions on topics he had already understood, either to appease her ego or manage her. Sakura's blood boiled. She knew it. He was a manipulative asshole. Itachi had already seemed bad before but Tobirama was much worse. Damn him.

Sakura placed her index finger inside her notes and closed the binder gently. Tobirama frowned at her.

“Would you answer a question of my own, Tobirama-san?” she asked pleasantly.

He gave a nod. “Of course, go ahead.”

“How dare you make me waste my time?”  

There was a beat where his eyes widened, then, blankness.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tobirama said.

“Beg to differ. You already know the answers to all those questions you posed,” Sakura said. “I have to say, your attentive schoolboy act was charming.”

Tobirama merely regarded her in silence for a bit, then, damningly, turned to shoot Ino a look, as if to say: ‘see what happened?’

Sakura felt herself flushing out of sheer shame. How dare they? How dare they do this to her?!

At that moment, she felt a hand land on her  shoulder. Sakura glanced up to see Itachi hovering over her. He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was staring straight at Tobirama.

“I agree with Sakura-san,” he said mildly. “It seems like a rather disingenuous thing to do – asking her questions you already knew the answer to.”

Tobirama regarded Itachi narrowly. “And I suppose you are Uchiha Itachi? The fellow who massacred his whole clan? On what moral ground do you stand to be lecturing me?”

Itachi’s hand became rigid on her shoulder. “I am honored that you know my name already,” Itachi said, his voice as svelte as honey itself. It gave her goosebumps, though she attributed it to the closeness of his hand to her neck.

Tobirama cut a sharp glance at her. “What exactly is the purpose of summoning this fratricidal Uchiha to your side, Haruno? I thought you were ever so set on doing things on your own.”

He did not like Itachi, that was clear. She could sense an instant hate between the two. How typical of Tobirama. Bigoted through and through… just as she had hoped.

Sakura paused to mull over the (unsurprising) new development. If they pushed him just a bit more… she could tell, he would refuse to participate in the project.  

“Oh, Itachi? He’s your replacement, Tobirama-san,” she remarked casually. “I do appreciate all your… dusting efforts, though.”

Tobirama’s jaw ticked – finally a sign that she’d gotten to him. He suddenly stood from his chair; Itachi’s grip on her shoulder hardened, and he took a small step to stand closer to her.

“Now, Tobirama-san,” Itachi said mildly. “I don’t see the reason for hostility here. I merely pointed out that it’s a bit of a waste of all our time for you to be asking Sakura questions you both know the answer to… hm?”

Tobirama’s narrow-eyed stare honed in on Itachi. “Is there a point in your moral ramblings somewhere?”

“Oh, naturally. My point is merely that you should be more considerate of other people’s feelings,” Itachi said with a smile. “For instance, you hijacked Sakura’s private lab for a week and still haven’t apologized for it, and you changed all her meticulously placed seals without her permission, as well as burning them, and then demanded thanks for it. What if those seals were painted by someone else? What if they were loaned to her?” Itachi paused to let his point sink in.

The guy really was creepily perceptive, Sakura reflected. By contrast, Tobirama was about as perceptive as a deaf and blind rock.

“You make valid points.” He turned to her reluctantly. “Haruno, I didn’t realize my improving your seals might come across as rude. In my time, people begged me to improve their home seals. I took it for granted that you would see my actions as a gift.”

Sakura almost scoffed at his presumption, but he wasn’t done. 

“However,” Tobirama said, turning back to Itachi, “What ground do you stand on to be telling me what to do, Uchiha?” He glared, crossing his arms. “You lecture like a priest, yet you’re a butcher. All you’ve done so far is decimate your clan, to my knowledge, which is one of the reasons we’re trying to improve on the  edo tensei jutsu in the first place.”

We?

He turned back to regard her. “Isn’t that so? You want to bring the extinct clans back, don’t you?”

Sakura frowned, wondering what Tobirama’s new game was. “Yes, though not all the members,” she said pointedly. Just enough to restore the clans.”

“And you have enlisted the main cause for the destruction of one such clan to help you,” Tobirama said tartly. “Don’t you see how illogical this is?”

“It’s not illogical when you take into account that Itachi was just one more cog in the system,” Sakura replied, thinking back to Danzo’s words. “Your fervent fan Danzo would know more about this, I’m sure.”

Tobirama’s mouth clicked shut, and she knew she had won the point.

“Hn. ” Itachi interrupted. “Also? If I may add… It is true that I may not be able to help Sakura-san overmuch with the experiments, but… she has requested my assistance with the other aspects of this project, and I suppose it just comes with the territory to point out one member’s rudeness when no one else will.”

Tobirama’s face acquired a pinched expression, as though he was praying to some deity for patience. 

“Oi, leave off him!” Ino butted in. “You guys shouldn’t team up on someone else like that. That’s rude too.”

“No. They have a right to express their doubts. As I understand, the people of this time have many reservations about my character,” Tobirama said slowly.

“Justified reservations,” Itachi added.

“Alright… well, Uchiha-san,” he said silkily, “then thank you for informing me of my justified rudeness. I will seek to rectify my behavior in the future.”

“That would be ideal,” Itachi praised, removing his hand from Sakura’s shoulder and stepping away from her.

She looked at him, unsure what to think of his weird… solicitousness. This whole jumping in her defense thing was unwelcome, and didn’t seem like how Itachi would usually have handled this situation. She didn’t know him, yet she got the strong impression that he was acting, twisting himself into something he wasn’t. She hated phoniness and Itachi was turning out to be slippery. 

Didn’t he say something about attempting some subtle psychological manipulation? Had that just been code for antagonizing Tobirama? No. He was antagonizing Tobirama for a reason…

Sakura glanced at the man.

On his part,   Tobirama didn’t seem to appreciate Itachi’s condescension anymore than Sakura did Tobirama’s, and so they were at a stalemate, with Tobirama glaring at Itachi, Ino glaring at her (as if all of this was somehow her fault), Itachi retreating behind her like a shadow, and Sakura puzzling out everyone’s motivations.

She sighed.

(Someone else had sighed at the exact same time.)

Sakura glanced up in surprise – and noticed Tobirama was the one who’d made the twin noise. Yuck.

“I do have a few questions I don’t know the answers to, Haruno,” he said eventually. “Regarding your notes.”

“Really,” Sakura arched a brow, dubious.

“Really. And I apologize for asking things I already knew. I wanted to see if you truly had written those notes.”

No. You didn’t. You were attempting to manage me, Sakura thought. Clearly, Ino had given him directions to placate her ruffled feathers. However, his lie spared her pride, so she simply nodded and accepted it.

“What did you have questions about?”

“I didn’t write them down. It’s faster if I just show you. So let’s hop to it.”

Let’s ‘hop’ to it?  Who talked like that?

She rolled her chair over again and sighed.. Glanced at the clock. She had originally planned  to end the interaction after  an hour of talking, and tell him that his help wasn’t required, but now she was too curious to do so.  She had a feeling he was being honest about having some questions and now she wanted to know what it could be that the great Tobirama Senju hadn’t understood.

She could just answer his questions and then dismiss him for good, she told herself.

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

Somehow, they actually got down to business after that… 

Predictably, Tobirama didn’t have many questions, and most of them involved explanations he couldn’t have possibly thought of on his own, with his lacking education on modern science. He knew a lot more than he should already, which suggested that her theory was right, and he had pulled out all the stops to catch up in the past week.

They hashed them all out and she found herself quoting some books she liked, and even singing the praises of one of the most respected researchers in the field (read, the one she looked up to) and before she knew it she’d even put in a comment about the one book everyone should read if they knew what was good for them. Later she would regret giving Tobirama ammunition to further improve his understanding, but unfortunately she tended to ramble on the rare occasion that someone wanted to talk about one of ‘her’ topics.

Such was her ramble that they even made something of a dent in her notes on the Book of the Dead, which meant their interaction took a turn for the worse, as they moved to even ground. Now Tobirama was no longer asking questions, but positing instead his suppositions about what she had done wrong. Sakura didn’t usually mind concrit as long as it was logically founded, but from him… it was different. It rankled that he could see so far and so deep already. 

Thus the hour (hours?) that followed was  spent with Tobirama going over his theories of what he thought had gone wrong in the reaction and Sakura interrupting him to say he had no idea he was talking about and it went like this, and then Tobirama interrupting her to say she had no idea and it went like that.

Still, it was positively civil given their track record thus far, though by the end of a very long couple hours, neither had convinced the other of their side of the argument. If anything, each was more convinced they were right than before.

“I’m telling you, I felt a blip during the attempt,” Sakura was saying, trying to keep the irritation off her tone. “A disturbance, right before it all went to shit. That blip in the equilibrium says it all. If there’s a blip, then there’s something wrong with the distribution of the five energies, something’s missing in the stearic configurations, not the quantities themselves, and that’s why the reaction backfired.”

“There was no ‘blip’, Haruno,” Tobirama countered with crossed arms. “I’ve plotted my findings, the graphs are straight as an arrow.”

“Then they’re wrong because I felt a fucking blip.”

“You imagined it, then. The equations don’t lie.”

“You pulled those damn equations out of your ass! I felt a bloody blip, damn it!”

“Haruno. For the last time. There is. No. Blip.”

They went back and forth on the blip issue ad nauseum, possibly for hours, until Ino finally stepped in to remind them that it was late and she was hungry, and they should call it a night.

Huh. She had completely forgotten Ino was there.

“Yes, Haruno is clearly very hangry right now,” Tobirama said with a scoff.

There was a pregnant pause.

Did he just say… hangry?

Sakura swiveled around to stare at Ino to see if she’d heard him too, unsure whether to believe her own ears.   The let’s hop to it comment earlier had already seemed slightly lame-sounding, and out of character for a man like the nidaime, but now… hangry, really? Who even used that word? She suppressed a snort. All this time thinking he was some pompous hotshot… but now… was the nidaime a pompous hotshot as well as lame as hell? Sakura looked away from him after a moment of intense scrutiny. Incredible.

“Forehead?” Ino called hesitantly. Possibly, she was expecting Sakura to go off on Tobirama again because he’d said she was hangry. She found it impossible to get mad about such a lame ass attack though. In fact, she found herself having to clamp down on her lip so it wouldn’t twitch tellingly.

“Yeah, I’m fucking hangry,” Sakura declared, hopping out of her chair. She turned to eye Tobirama, who was regarding her and Itachi without saying anything. “There is a blip,” she declared, pointing in his direction. “I felt it, it’s there. The end. I’m leaving now.”

Cue eye roll from the nidaime, though he at least had the presence of mind not to argue with her again.

“Are you staying here, Uchiha?” Tobirama asked, addressing Itachi ‘politely’.

“In Sakura’s lab?” Itachi gave the place a once over. “Hm, no.”

Sakura froze, suddenly realizing how that might come off as odd, when she was making Tobirama remain for the night, but she’d already agreed to let Itachi stay at her place… 

Of course, she had been planning to dismiss Tobirama after their talk, but now she was tired, and she wanted to look into some of the things he had mentioned as well before dismissing him. She was fairly sure she was right about the blip issue, but more than that, she was a firm believer of having all the facts before making one’s case, so she wanted to check over some of the physics concepts he had mentioned. 

While she was very adept at biophysics, Tobirama clearly ruled over her in this field, so she wanted to check everything over to make sure. She could dismiss him after she’d shoved the proof of being right in his face.

Yeah.

Which would probably happen as soon as tomorrow, so there was no point in finding alternative sleeping arrangements for him.

“Do you mind staying put tonight?” Sakura asked, addressing the nidaime. “I already agreed to let Itachi crash on my couch, and you two seem to clash, so I believe it wiser for you to stay here.”

Tobirama shrugged. “I’ve no interest in going to your house anyway.”

She had to refrain from smirking in amusement. His honesty was refreshing. Wait. No. No it wasn’t, he was just a jerk.

“Sure. See you tomorrow, then, nidaime.” When I refute your ridiculous claims.

Tobirama said nothing, merely gave a nod, though his expression was less than pleased. “See you tomorrow, Haruno, unless of course you die first because you're loaning your couch to the resident  butcher.”

“I don’t see any butchers in here,” she retorted irritably. This man…

“Ah, my bad: mass murderer then. Have fun with him under your roof.”

“Oh, how sweet of you to be so concerned, but we’re all mass murderers in this room,” Sakura remarked. “I will be sure to play checkers with him. Now, goodbye, Tobirama, Ino.”

Tobirama still looked displeased, but she didn’t care.

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

It took some doing, until she extracted herself from Ino’s clutches, but it was worth it when she was finally home and nibbling at a cookie in her cozy kitchen. Itachi set about making tea – for two people – while Sakura continued nibbling.

“Hold on. I didn’t have any green tea yesterday. Where did you…?”

Itachi glanced back at her a little sheepishly. “I borrowed some from your neighbor.”

Sakura stared. “You… you did not just steal from my neighbor, Itachi.”

“I… was really craving some warm tea.”

Sakura shook her head incredulously. “I can’t believe you.”

“I think you already do.”

They lapsed into silence, listening to the whistling of the kettle and the slow disintegration of Sakura’s cookie.

Eventually, the tea was ready, and Itachi poured them two cups, then walked to the couch with his, plopping down like he was exhausted again. Somehow, none of the tea spilled over in the process, though Sakura was surprised to see him acting so graceless. He had seemed much more controlled just a moment ago. Did he actually feel at ease around her?

Sakura frowned uncertainly, stepping closer to the mass murderer. As Tobirama had handily pointed out.

Great, she’d be tossing and turning tonight, ears sharpened for Itachi’s footballs. Just great.

“It went well today, don’t you think?” Itachi asked out of the blue.

Sakura turned to stare at him. “You mean… with Tobirama?”

Itachi nodded, giving her a pleased smile. “He responded to my manipulation.”

“About that.” Sakura placed her cup on the coffee table to give him her full attention.

“Yes, Sakura-san?”

“What the hell, Itachi? Not that I don’t appreciate your defense of my person, but why would you antagonize Tobirama over nonsense? I thought you said you had some masterplan to get him to behave.”

“Oh, and I do. That right there –  that’s the masterplan,” Itachi replied with amusement.

“What?” Sakura asked. She had some idea of what his plan was, but decided it wisest to feign naivety. “Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t get it.”

“Pandering to you in an obvious way…” Itachi trailed off. “Considering how he’s been hardwired to react to Uchiha, it is clear that the nidaime will see me as a threat, no matter what I do. The most productive way of taking advantage of this is making him compete against me.”

“Why  would he compete against you?” Sakura asked. “You’ve got no war to fight in.”

“With my ancestors, he competed over resources, yes;” Itachi said, “but truthfully, it was always about the safety of one’s family. That is why men fight in war. Not the resources. The resources are only wanted by those who  pull the strings.”

“Alright, so?”

“So it will still be the same scenario,” Itachi replied. “We’re still competing over family.”

Sakura stared at him in apparent  confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“I… am showing an extreme desire to pander to you – on purpose. He is aware that we don’t know each other for long, ergo the only conclusion is I’m doing it to gain your favor as quickly as possible. Now, why would I want to gain your favor?”

Sakura sighed. So her guess was correct. She was somewhat pleased she’d seen through Itachi’s tactic, but not enough to feel good about the situation. In fact, she felt a little uneasy. He was a slippery one, Itachi. Damn it. Maybe she should’ve made him stay in the lab with Tobirama, where they could keep each other in check. 

None of this showed on her face, she hoped, as she stared up at Itachi, gouging him.

“Sakura-san? Did you hear my question? I asked why I would want to gain your favor, in Tobirama’s mind.”

She decided to play it stupid, but not too stupid.  “I guess… so that I resurrect everyone you  want me to.”

“Quite so. Perhaps I’m even plotting to poison your mind against Tobirama – and any chances he may have at convincing you to resurrect his family,” Itachi said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “Or at least, I am sure that’s what he’s thinking right now.”

Sakura nodded. It would make sense for him to suspect she had no intentions of resurrecting him, she supposed. “He wouldn’t be wrong in thinking that, though. I’ve no plans to bring him back.”

“But he doesn’t know that,” Itachi counted. “All he knows is that you hold the power, and my behavior today hopefully reinforced the idea in his head that he should play nice, or I’ll poison you against him.”

“Wow.” Sakura said, widening her eyes. “That’s some top tier manipulation right there. I think it worked.”

Itachi leaned back into the couch, his silky black hair splaying over the yellow pillows. “Hn.” He looked pleased with himself. “To be honest, I’m not sure it did. He was still giving you a lot of attitude by the time we left.”

“I think his behavior improved substantially,” Sakura disagreed. “And to be honest, the hangry comment hardly bothered me, or the one about not wanting to come to my apartment: if I were him, I’d prefer to be left alone after such a long day  too. Though it was annoying how he kept contradicting me on the blip issue. If I say I sensed it, then I sensed it!” She scowled. “He pisses me off, honestly.”

Itachi chuckled. “I can tell.”

“Yeah, well, you try arguing with the jerk for god knows how long about the exact same thing and then tell me you don’t find him annoying.”

“I already do, if only because he forced me to endure that argument as a passive participant,” Itachi remarked. “It was clear you’d not invent having sensed something like that during the failed resurrection, and yet he wouldn’t budge on his stance merely because his mathematics said something else.”

“Exactly!” Sakura exclaimed. “Finally, someone who gets it! When the current physics can’t explain  naturally occurring phenomena, then you have to change the physics until they can – not lie that you don’t see the phenomena!”

Itachi nodded, sipping at his tea. “I know, Sakura. Hopefully  he’ll come around. If not… we can always fall back on other… resources to persuade him to stop being so difficult.”

Sakura gave Itachi a smile. It was forced. “Well… let’s wait for now, ne?”

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

“Forehead, honestly… you should have asked me first before summoning Itachi.”

Sakura popped an onion chip into her mouth. “You would’ve told me not to.”

“Exactly. How smart and insightful you are!” Ino exclaimed, raising her arms in irritation.

They were eating some finger foods at a cafe. Ino was still going on about yesterday’s… surprise guest.

“Yes, well. Being smart and insightful, I decided to summon him first and apologize later, once you have seen how much of a great idea it was.”

“So you mean don’t apologize.”

“No…” she said slowly. "I mean apologize after there's something to apologize for. Not that I feel in the least sorry for acting in the best interests of our joint research venture."

Ino rolled her eyes. “Has it occurred to you why I would have said no to your little summoning Itachi idea, you dumb bitch?”

Sakura shook her head slowly. “Because you… don’t like Itachi? And I'm not dumb.”

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

“Love how you didn't deny the bitch comment, girl boss," Ino replied, flippantly peering at her nails.

"I am aware that I am what most would colloquially term a narcissistic bitch... at least in some respects. People do use the word to indicate a debasing sort of  hornyness which I don't think applies for me. Not that being compared to a female dog is in anyway bad," Sakura added with a scoff. "What's with this misogynistic tendency of using female animals to insult women? Dogs are loyal, trustworthy companions that-"

"Shut up, Forehead. I know you love musing about linguistics but now is not the time. I repeat: why the fuck do you think I'm mad right now?"

Sakura shrugged and popped another chip into her mouth.

"If I remember correctly, you're at the point in your female cycle known as the follicular stage. Recent studies show that women are more aggressive during this time."

Ino's nostrils were flaring. "Forehead," she said slowly. "Will you stop that?!"

Sakura laughed. "Well, it's true. Hormones play a larger part in every day life than you think."

"Forehead..." Ino repeated again, voice lowering in an implicit threat.

"If you're interested in the study, the aggressive behavior of eight adult female rhesus monkeys was studied prior to and during a breeding season extended by vasectomizing all the adult males in the group. Female reproductive status was ascertained by: recording all adult female-adult male copulations, detecting menstruation by vaginal swabbing, and analyzing serum progesterone levels by radioimmunoassay-"

"I know you're doing that to piss me off," Ino interrupted her irritably. "And it may even work on Tobirama, but it's not gonna work on me. Forehead, did you pull your head out of your ass for even a second to reflect about why it might be a really bad idea to summon Itachi?"

Sakura rolled her eyes and sighed. "Alright. Illuminate me."

"Because Itachi is rumored to have broken free of the edo tensei once already!” Ino burst out. “How thick can you be, Sakura? You had to summon the one person who managed to break the control, did you?”

Sakura gulped. Well, when she put it like that…

“Bah, Ino, that’s just a rumor Sasuke started…”

“But what if it’s true?” Ino demanded. “What if…”

“Shh.” Before Ino could say more, Sakura shushed her. “Kakashi’s close by.”

He was indeed approaching with his chakra suppressed.

Ino arched a brow. “You two are attached by the hip lately.”

“More like he’s onto us. Topic change.”

“Uhhh… my mom’s renovating the kitchen?” Ino hazarded.

This is why I love you, Sakura thought, pleased. Ino could keep up with her. “Excellent. Got any new chairs? Finally?”

“Yeah, red in your honour.”

“Red? Ugh. No, that’s gonna clash with the yellow walls… hello, Kakashi! Nice to see you dusting the ceiling so dedicatedly!” 

Sakura threw a senbon at the area their esteemed Hokage was now camping out in for good measure. After her blunt call out, Kakashi’s chakra signature retreated, her sensei likely realizing that his impromptu spying attempt didn’t pan out. Not that the bastard bothered to show himself. Sakura rolled her eyes.

“You were saying?” Ino prompted, unimpressed with Sakura and Kakashi’s usual antics.

“Oh, right. The chairs. No, wait, we were with the yellow walls… are you repainting them?”

Ino nodded distractedly, but her eyebrows were still ticking in irritation. "Is it safe to talk?" she mouthed.

Sakura pondered the question. It probably was now that Kakashi had left, but Ino was a crap sensor, so she wouldn't know that. Sakura shook her head. "Fraid not," she mouthed back.

Ino's eyebrows narrowed like she knew Sakura was lying, but in the end she just mouthed: "don't think we're done here," and continued on a long tangent about kitchen chairs.

TWO years ONE week Before YANAGI

Though nothing more of interest was discussed during that conversation, Ino’s accusation lingered in Sakura’s mind. Could it really be true that Itachi had the ability of breaking out from the edo tensei’s control? She had just clocked out of the Academy and was intending on stopping home before making the trip to the lab, but the sudden revelation was enough to make her change course and go to the lab directly.

She wasn’t… unnerved or anything. She just… wanted to have some time to think before confronting Itachi. The door of her lab flew open and slammed closed behind her as she stepped through. It seemed hard to believe that she had managed to have a semi-civil conversation with the nidaime at the end there yesterday… she’d rathe not get along with that bigot if she could help it. But much as she hated it, she was going to have to have another one, namely a conversation about Itachi. Sakura wanted, no, needed to have her concerns about Itachi assuaged as fast as possible. She was even willing to play nice.

“Tobirama!” she called briskly. “Mind answering a quick question?”

“Hello to you too, Haruno,” came Tobirama’s snide voice, once again, from her chair. 

Sakura would have time to get mad about it, but the Itachi issue was currently occupying most of her brain space.

“In the kitchen, if you don’t mind,” she added, opening the side door that led to a small kitchen. There were no windows except for a semi-opaque one, making it impossible for anyone to spy on them. Anyone, or any crows.

Tobirama gave her an irritated look. “I am busy at the moment.”

“It’s important,” Sakura hissed.

Tobirama blew out a loud breath and placed his (her) pen down on her desk and stood from her chair.

“Yes, Haruno?” 

“In the kitchen,” she repeated impatiently, gesturing him over.

Tobirama rolled his eyes but nonetheless trailed into the kitchen. “What do you want?”

She kept beaconing him closer. “And close the door!”

He sighed, closed the door lazily and took one step in her direction.

“Closer, damn it!”

He did not move even an inch closer. “What?”

She huffed and moved closer herself. “Don’t you understand I’m trying not to be overheard?”

“By who? I thought you had your oh-so-great lab warded?”

“Damn it, nidaime! Must you be difficult at every turn?”

“Why is it necessary for you to get in my personal space? Surely you can impart your great secret from over there.”

Sakura was ready to breathe fire in frustration.

“Okay. Fine.” They were now a meter apart which was further than she’d like, enabling lip reading, but it was something. “Is it possible to break the edo tensei’s control?”

Tobirama gave her a derisive look. “Would I be standing here if it was?”

“There’s rumors Itachi broke it during the war,” she hissed.

“Oh, now you’re worried? How stupendous of you to consider that after you resurrected the most prolific butcher of your generation.”

“Are these rumors plausible, yes or no?” she snapped.

“According to your Yamanaka friend, they might be.”

“I’m asking you, not Ino!”

“How should I know?” Tobirama asked.

She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re the inventor of the technique!”

Tobirama sighed in annoyance. “And yet, the average Sharingan has never ceased to unfold itself into wilder and wilder side powers all on its own. What do I know if he used some unknown new powerup of the Sharingan to break free?”

Sakura frowned. He had a point there. “The Sharingan’s power ups are ridiculous.” Sakura hated that in their universe, any creature in possession of a Sharingan was automatically a hundred times stronger than everyone else, unless they were called Naruto or had a Rinnegan. Literally all their mortal enemies had had a Sharingan or a Rinnegan over the years. Or had wanted one, like Orochimaru. Poor guy, he really did fall short, compared to the others.

“The Sharingan’s power ups remind me of a badly written action comic,” Tobirama deadpanned.

Sakura gave him an odd look. “You know what a comic is?”

He gave her an offended one. “Did you think I was illiterate?”

“No, just from the stone ages.”

Tobirama’s lips spread into a tiny smirk. “How sad for you that despite my so-called prehistoric background, you still had to fall back on my notes to invent your little jutsu.”

Sakura bit her lip, glaring at him. He had a point there. Since she couldn’t very well answer that, she turned around and started making tea. You win this round, bastard… but you won’t win the war.

“Are your manners as prehistoric as I supposedly am or will you be offering me some tea as well?” Tobirama inquired from behind her.

Sakura’s eyebrows twitched. “I knew there was no need to do so as you have clearly been helping yourself to my supplies.”

“I wouldn’t need to help myself if somebody didn’t put me on house arrest.”

“Lab arrest,” she corrected him, absentmindedly pouring water into the kettle.

“Lab arrest,” he repeated, and she could just hear  the eye-roll. “But then, I suppose now you wished you could trade places with me, don’t you, Haruno?”

“Why would I wish that?”

“You’re stuck with an unwanted house guest who may go rouge and kill you any time, while I have a lab all to myself twenty-for-seven.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“That’s the sane  way of looking at it,” he said archly. “Anyone who thinks sleeping with a butcher under their roof is a good outcome must have a few screws loose. Then again, you certainly seem to fit the criteria.”

“Why, thank you, nidaime. I do so love when you make use of those vested prehistoric manners of yours,” Sakura chirped. She turned around to start poking through her tea cabinets. “Did you want sencha or jasmine?”

“What I want is for you to explain to me why there are an assortment of coded journals in your lab.”

“We’re talking tea blends, nidaime, not journals.”

“If you can’t follow basic conversational topic changes, maybe you should join your students at the Academy, Haruno. I am simply done with the tea discussion.”

“In my culture it’s called bad manners to switch topics in the middle of a polite inquiry.”

“Then I shudder to think what they may say about yours.”

Sakura gritted her teeth. “Very well. Suit yourself then. You won’t get tea.”

“Haruno. I will not be distracted from your journals. Get rid of the Uchiha if you must, but do that on your own time–”

“How generous of you.”

“–I am  here to offer to help you with this jutsu, and that’s what I will do, but for that, you must avail me of the full scope of your notes! I can’t and won’t help you unless I’m sure you’re not the second coming of that blasted Orochimaru–”

“I believe what you have been given is more than enough to conclude that.”

“You take me for a fool if you believe I will buy such drivel. More than enough? You keep secret encoded notes, have a secret lab outfitted with corpse storing facilities and you want me to blindly trust in your moral compass? Get real, Haruno.”

“Pot, kettle much?” Sakura asked flippantly. “I do believe you are Orichimaru’s greatest idol, not me. I’m not even a blip on that man’s radar.”

“Foolishness!” Tobirama spat. “I assure you that I have had the… pleasure of meeting that snake and he did not look upon me as his idol by the end of it!”

Sakura was momentarily taken aback by these words. What did he mean he met Orochimaru? As in, during the war, or did he mean something else? She wanted to ask, but didn’t quite know how, yet this desire to formulate the question created an awkward silence when she didn’t reply to him. Finally, realizing she had to say something, Sakura took a deep breath. 

“Look, I suppose I can understand your… concerns about me, but giving you access to my most private writings is out of the question. I am sure you would tell anyone demanding to read your innermost thoughts to go hang, whatever their intentions may be, so I don’t understand why you can’t extend me the same courtesy.”

“Can’t you see the fallacy in your own words?” Tobirama spat. “My innermost thoughts have already been aired out for the world to see. You have stolen some of those so called innermost thoughts. You. Would it not be fair to give something in exchange?”

“I have given you something. I let you read one of my research binders. Just as I only read one of your scrolls. Even is even.”

Tobirama scoffed. “It still isn’t. My writings about the Uchiha were meant to be private as well, as was the shadow clone technique and a host of others. My political opinions, my jutsu, my most private wishes can be gleaned from these things. You can call this situation whatever you want, but fair isn’t a word I’d use.”

Sakura pursed her lips. She refused to be drawn in by his little speech. She refused to pity the bigot. It was his fault for not being cautious enough! Why didn’t he go through the pains of coming up with a whole new alphabet, huh? Why didn’t he hide in plain sight like she did? It was his fault. She considered herself kind for not pointing that out. All she said in the end was:

“Be that as it may, I did not distribute that research so it doesn’t fall on me to compensate you. And just so you know, in case they didn’t teach you manners in the Stone Age: generally, when you come upon a coded notebook written by a lady, it means it’s not for you to read, nidaime-sama.”

“Good, then I mustn’t worry.”

A beat. Sakura stared at him. “Bastard.”

His eyebrow ticked. “What did you call me?”

“Bas…. tard.”

“You dare–?”

“You just said–”

“I made a joke and you called me a bastard.”

“It was hardly a joke, it was a personal attack–”

“Because you wouldn’t let me read your notebooks–”

“Which is hardly grounds for you to attack me–”

“All I said was that you weren’t a lady–”

“Well you certainly aren’t a gentleman!”

“Great, because I never had such a design in the first place–”

“Unsurprising from a stone age brute–”

“–and you must be delusional to even entertain the notion that you could–”

“–kunoichi doesn’t deserve to be undermined as lacking femininity–”

“–not from the stone age–”

Eventually, the kettle started to hiss, and they simultaneously stopped throwing barbs at each other to glance over at it. Once the accidental ceasefire was procured, Sakura was reluctant to go back to insulting Tobirama, so she simply walked over to the teapot instead.

Tobirama was too proud to ask for tea again and she too proud to offer him any, though it felt awkward making only for herself while he stood there and stared.

“Let’s go into the lab?” she asked after a beat, clutching the cup with her sleeves.

“Please,” he replied stiffly.

Once they stepped in, at a glance, Sakura could suddenly tell that her lab had stopped being her safe space. Tobirama had made himself at home in every corner of it. Had taken her green mug all for himself, which sat proudly on her desk, all of his research was strewn about the tables and books she certainly hadn’t brought here were on the shelves. The spindly script that she knew so well from the Book of the Dead filled every corner of her lab now. It had already filled every corner of her mind even before she’d summoned him here. The attempt to understand his theorems and jutsu formulas had occupied her every thought and waking moment months before she’d even entertained the notion of summoning him here. 

The only thing which his vast intellect didn’t seem to have thought of was that the Mokuton was the key to figuring out the true resurrection – her own thesis.  Sakura didn’t know how Tobirama would react if he knew that she had ‘stolen’ the ancient bloodline limit from one of Orochimaru’s experiments. If there was anything Tobirama loathed, it seemed to be Orochimaru and everything to do with him. She didn’t know how he’d react if he knew about Yamato’s existence, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t take kindly to her using him to figure out the secrets of the Mokuton – just as she was sure that if he saw her studying a sunflower to replicate its photosynthetic properties, he would immediately know that this was how she had reached the activation energy that first time.

“Well, Haruno?” Tobirama was waving one of her journals about. This one was forest green and labeled number one. It was the first of a series of seven journals including all she had learnt just from studying Tenzo’s Mokuton. All encoded, of course. The journals that started theorizing how to apply the Mokuton to the edo tensei were number twenty four through thirty one. Sakura pulled out a blank notebook that would become journal number thirty two and laid it gingerly on the table.

“Well, what? Is the tea to your tastes then?”

“Oh, for the love of… stop it with the tea already. What is the meaning of all these secrets?”

“I didn’t know summoning the dead would contractually obliged me to become bosom buddies with them.”

“Haruno,” Tobirama huffed. “Why must you be so difficult? Are you trying to make me leave?”

“Matter of fact…”

“Oh, for Inari’s sake, woman! Would it be so difficult just to tell me?”

Sakura pretended to ponder this. She had plenty of experience mimicking Kakashi’s behavior and optimizing her actions to be the most infuriating they could be. 

“Haruno…!”

“I’m still thinking.”

Sakura withdrew a sunflower from her bag and examined it from all angles.

“Haruno, seriously… what are you doing?”

Ignoring Tobirama with expert ability, Sakura picked up the vase by the windowsill, marched back into the kitchen, filled it with water, and then made her way back to the windowsill, where she proceeded to place the sunflower into the vase.

“Haruno. Will you please stop ignoring me?”

Sakura adjusted the vase thoughtfully, checking that the light was hitting the flower in just the way she wanted.

Maybe the other window… Sakura carried the vase to the other side of the room.

“Haruno. Seriously, just what is that?”

“It was a gift from Amane. She was conspiring to sack me,” Sakura said absently.

Tobirama stared at her as if she’d gone insane. “S–? What?”

“Yes, sack me. Back when I was hospital director, you see. Amane and her cronies were after my chair. That didn’t stop her from gifting me this flower vase ¡ while plotting in the background to get rid of me…”

Sakura picked it up and held the translucent glass in the light. “Isn’t it just beautiful?”

“I… am sorry to hear that, Haruno, but the notebooks–”

“Really, what is life but a slew of constant betrayals and back stabbings?” Sakura placed the vase back in the original spot, acting as if she hadn’t heard Tobirama say anything. “Amane couldn’t help her nature more than a dastardly scorpion riding a carp over a river, could she?”

“Are you the carp in this analogy? Because I think it’s supposed to be a frog.”

“May Amane’s wrong-doing vase show us the way to scientific enlightenment.” 

Tobirama gave her a dry look. “Whatever, Haruno. I know you’re trying to draw  the conversation away from your notebooks–”

To think that an innocent bit of flora could contain the key to releasing so much radiation… Tobirama had no idea of the true importance of that flower. It was ironic, she’d been banding about the answers he sought in his face and he hadn’t realized…

Sakura finally left her lab after a long-winded rant on the part of Tobirama about information-sharing. She had pointed out that she had yet to hear anything classified from him and left before he could argue back in any way, such as by going on again about how she’d already stolen and read the classified scrolls detailing his research on the topic.

When she got home, to her relief and slight surprise, Itachi wasn’t there… though it soon became apparent why when she discovered Kakashi in her kitchen instead. Hopefully Itachi would have left before Kakashi could notice anything amiss.

Sakura hung up her coat and left the keys in their predetermined maximum efficiency pick up point and advanced into the kitchen.

“Yo, Sakura.”

Sakura smiled wanly at him and threw an orange at his head which she’d bought on the way.  “Hey, Hokage.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes at the moniker (it was always amusing to fluster the man) and caught it. Then he got up from the kitchen counter, where he had been reading a war treatise.

“Needed anything earlier?” Sakura asked, when he didn’t say anything. "Or what did we owe the surprise visit to?"

He had developed a preoccupying habit of sometimes spying on her and Ino. Sakura wasn't kidding herself. She knew he suspected something.

“Ma, just checking on my favorite medic, of course," Kakashi said with a smile. "I was glad to see you were in good company.”

Sakura eyed him. “Should've joined us instead of eavesdropping from the ceiling."

“Hm, I would've loved to, but I had an appointment at the hair salon."

"Maybe another time you'll step out of hiding then.”

He hummed. "Maybe."

There was a beat of silence, then Kakashi moved  seamlessly back into the kitchen and started pulling out things from her friddge.

"It's saury today, right?" she asked.

He hummed. "You should know. You bought the groceries yourself."

"I bought what was on the list," she quipped. "I wouldn't know what you're planning to do with it."

He snorted, shaking his head, muttering something about how pants she was in the kitchen. She gave his back the finger, which somehow ended with a shuriken flying toward said finger.

"I told you no weapons in my flat! I don't want to pay the deposit!" she snapped, catching the shuriken irritably.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, then pointed at some carrots. "Dice them."

Sakura roled her eyes and set to doing his bidding.

She bought the groceries he cooked the food. They cleaned up together. This was a long standing arrangement between them – over a decade long now. Every day, they ate dinner together. It hadn't changed after Sakura had been appointed hospital director and then sacked, it hadn't changed when Kakashi had become Hokage or when Sakura had joined the Academy as  a teacher.

They worked in silence for a while, Sakura concentrating on dicing the carrots up to Kakashi's standards.

“You know, eavesdropping is rude," she said after a stretch of silence. "I'd appreciate if if you stopped listening in on my convos with Ino."

“Ma, ma, Sakura-chan. This is a military dictatorship. I don’t think you have much ground to stand on there.”

Sakura snorted without amusement. “What’d you want, anyway, Kakashi?” She turned towards him. "Why did you do it? And don’t give me your usual bullshit.”

“Please, it’s not eavesdropping if the victim knows. You knew I was there, Sakura-chan."

"Yeah, well the senbon I threw at the ceiling should've been an indicator that I wanted you to leave," Sakura grumbled.  

“Can’t I just catch up with my favorite human bubblegum?” Kakashi complained gently.

“It’s chewed out-old bubblegum these days,” she quipped.

"Bit of a step down."

"I've been a human bubblegum since I was born," Sakura said lightly. “It was bound to happen. And speaking of – you’d be surprised at the gum trafficking operations that go on in my classroom.”

“Ah, does Sakura-sensei struggle handling her brats?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Uh-huh. And I absolutely believe you.”

Sakura scoffed at him and flicked her fingers at him, sprinkling water in his direction.

“Perhaps you struggle with your colleagues then?” Kakashi asked.

Now she glared because she just knew Iruka had let something slip. “I do not. I’ve been a sensei for a while now, Kakashi. Stop being ridiculous.”

“Am I? I had heard some interesting things about your relationship with Anko.”

“The crazy? I’m sure you have.”

“She goes around telling people you’re the next coming of Orochimaru.”

“Ah, of course. Did I forget to mention that I’ve started kidnapping innocent babies and doing tongue gymnastics? You should try it. It’s great for the blood pressure.”

“Sakura.”

“Kakashi.”

“It’s true that you have similar profiles. You’ve grown awfully invested in your research of late, and you’re both sensei as a side job to that research…”

“I became a sensei because someone thought it would be a great idea,” Sakura replied with an eye roll.

Kakashi sighed. “You did improve your students’ grades…”

“It’s the tongue kidnapping. I mean, gymnastics.”

Kakashi snorted. “You kidnap your students’ tongues? Hm. Why didn’t I try that?”

Sakura snorted. “Beats me.”

They lapsed into silence.

“Regardless, that’s not how you spend the majority of your time. Sakura. I wanted to ask about these… experiments of yours,” Kakashi said after a moment. "That's why I was there."

"I see," Sakura said mildly. She had to work hard to keep the ice out of her voice. “What about them?”

“Don’t you think they’re taking up a little too much of your time?” Kakashi inquired delicately.    

Sakura carefully hid the tensing of her muscles. “Well, Academy work leaves a girl with a lot of free time, Kakashi. I’ve got to keep busy somehow.”

“You know, most people would disagree. A teacher doesn’t have that much free time.”

“Please, we get holidays, and the workload is hardly mentally or physically stimulating.”

“Don’t let Iruka hear you say that,” Kakashi admonished. Sakura rolled her eyes. She liked teaching kids, but it was frustrating how they didn’t want to learn medicine at all… okay, no, she didn’t like teaching kids. Fine.

Kakashi sighed. “Look… I’m sorry I pushed you into this. There’s still time to pick something different. You could just return to the hospital, or the regular ranks…”

Sakura shrugged boredly. If she did either, she wouldn’t have time to complete her experiments. Of course, she couldn’t say that. Instead, she wielded the blade that always pierced Kakashi.

“You do remember what you promised, don’t you… sensei?” Sakura asked, eyeing him quietly.

Kakashi stilled.

“ANBU… still calls to me,” Sakura said emphatically.

Kakashi looked uncomfortable. “But the regular ranks…”

“I will remain a sensei until my program is fully implemented. The teaching assistant is finishing his training soon, right?”

Kakashi nodded.

“After I’m done at the Academy, we’ll have this talk again.”

The man sighed.

After Kakashi left, Sakura set about proving or disproving Ino’s theories. Could or could she not control Itachi? Well, it stood to reason that a simple command would be enough to find out. Yesterday, she had willed the nidaime to shut up at one point and his mouth had forcefully clamped tight –  against his will. She hadn’t repeated this nifty trick (much as he annoyed her, not even he deserved to be treated like a slave) – but it was nice to know that she could use such commands in emergencies. Since a silent thought had been enough for the nidaime, it should work on Itachi too.

Alright… here goes nothing.

Come home, Itachi! Sakura thought. And then she waited, and waited, and waited some more… maybe there was a sort of delay to the process when one was far away? And yet, Itachi didn’t come home. She tried to rephrase her command as ‘come to Haruno Sakura’s house’ or, ‘obey at once’ or ‘avail yourself to me this instant’ or even ‘send a crow to caw once in my window’ but none of her orders were followed. 

Ino was definitely right, Sakura realized. Itachi had broken free of the edo tensei completely, not just long-distance. What now?

She had paced a trench into her living room floor  when she finally felt Itachi’s chakra draw close. Shit.

She reached for a kunai, her every muscle tensing–

“Easy, Sakura-san.”

He appeared in her living room as if she hadn’t aged twenty years in the span of a few hours because of him. 

“Itachi… hey,” Sakura said. “Sorry. You… startled me.”

“That’s alright,” Itachi smiled softly.

Sakura watched him as he went about buttering himself some toast. Crap. Why was the man so terrifying? And what hole did she just dig for herself by bringing him back?

Chapter Text

TWO years  Before YANAGI

It was incredible how humankind could get used to anything. In this case, Sakura could hardly believe that she’d gotten so used to interacting with two corpses on a daily basis, but this was now the case. In the mornings, she would rise with the sun, leaving early on in the day to act as the Academy’s glorified janitor, checking it over for bombs and the like.

She’d work there until five p.m., often staying later when a teacher asked her to take care of their detention or to go over lesson plans with her T.A., who often insisted on inviting her out for coffee for some reason – even though that was a waste of time and they’d get it done faster if they just stayed at the Academy. Ino said he was into her. Sakura categorically refused to even consider the possibility.

Now, her routine had changed because of the war, as well as her research, but before… Once her extra responsibilities were taken care of, she’d used to head to the grocery store to pick up whatever was on Kakashi’s shopping list for the week before dropping them off at his place.

“You were a hamster in another life,” he would always say when she arrived with a measly bag of oranges and one onion, or similar. “Why can’t you just go on one big shopping trip one day a week instead of methodically squirreling off oranges one by one?”

“I don’t squirrel off anything!” Sakura would inevitably snap. “Besides, you’re the one who goes through oranges like a monkey does bananas! If it wasn’t for me, you’d run out.”

“Yes, yes.”

Inevitably, the same interaction always took place, but it was a comfort by now. Sometimes, she’d return from the market with a little treat for the ninken and on those days, they always defended her, saying she wasn’t like a hamster at all.

“Oh, but she is. Just look at those round cheeks!” he’d tell Pakkun. “Those big eyes. Those bulging cheeks when you eat cookies… you’re such a hamster.”

“Am not!” she’d snap. “Plus you’ve mentioned my cheeks twice.”

“Maa, Sakura-chan. Don’t be such a sore loser. It’s obvious I’m right–”

“Well, if I’m a hamster, then you’re a baboon,” Sakura would snap, “with your sleepy stare and your dumb gray hair.”

“Aw, Sakura-chan. But that’s so hurtful.”

“You compared me to a hamster first!”

“But you clearly are a hamster in spirit.”

“Then you’re a baboon!”

“I think I amount to a wolf at least, ne?”

“No, not even a baboon, you’re a… a… an anteater!”

“What on earth do I have in common with an anteater?”

“That you’re gross and I hate your existence!”

“What did the anteaters ever do to you? You’re such a hamster–”

By this point she’d throw her slipper at him while screaming ‘baboon’ very loudly. It was unclear what the neighbours thought of these sporadic exclamations of random animal names, but luckily, she didn’t have to look them in the eye since she didn’t live in Kakashi’s flat. That was his problem.

After Kakashi cooked them dinner, they’d relocate to her apartment couch, him to read on her couch, her oftentimes to write her book. Sometimes she let him proofread things, though not too often. He said he didn’t want it spoiled – but ended up reading over her shoulder half the time anyway, making remarks about the characters, or giggling at random intervals. Sakura was secretly pleased he found so many passages funny, but out loud, she told him he had an unrefined sense of humour  (to which of course he’d reply that he was laughing at her sense of humour, not at the joke itself).

This was all well and good, especially because Kakashi’s presence kept Itachi far away from her home for long stretches of time. Sakura hated to say it, but she felt much safer when Kakashi was there. When he left, Itachi would inevitably return… plop down next to her on the couch… and she would beging to quietly freak out over the fact that he’d broken free of the edo tensei and oh shit, what if Tobirama is right and he’ll butcher me–?

She’d start spiralling, which was just… fantastic, really. Exactly what she needed after a long day of teaching brats, arguing with Tobirama, and calling the Hokage a baboon. Well, admittedly she enjoyed that last bit. 

Kakashi’s presence had become more comforting since Ino had reminded her of the rumors that Itachi was capable of escaping the edo tensei’s influence. Not something Sakura felt entirely comfortable with. Or, if she was honest – comfortable whatsoever with. Only when she was dead tired could she fall asleep only a few paces away from Uchiha Itachi. Yes, he was sweet and polite, but Sakura knew all about being sweet and polite and then turning around and stabbing someone in the back.  Itachi struck her as rather similar to her in that regard, which was usually a good thing because it meant they understood each other without the need for words, but it also meant she couldn’t trust him.  

So, she had continued to test if he was indeed under her control or not. She knew the mind control feature had worked without a need for words for Kabuto, so she’d tried to mentally order Itachi to do more things – this time while in close quarters. When she had tried it once again with Tobirama, it had worked. She’d been able to make him close his mouth when he annoyed her, or stand up from her chair whenever he was usurping it. When she tried to do it with Itachi, however… the wordless commands didn’t work at all. Sure, if she told him to do something, he did… but that meant very little. As a result, she was now almost certain that he had, in fact, escaped the edo tensei’s control. 

Which was… well, it could be worse – she shuddered to think what Tobirama would do if he had freed himself… and Itachi hadn’t attempted to murder her so far, so that was good… but it also meant she was on edge around him.

Normal sleep was now impossible with that mass murderer in her house. She much preferred Itachi to Tobirama – true – but the fact that she couldn’t control him meant that the man was still unsettling to the extreme. At least, at night, when everything was a touch more frightening, when paranoia could more easily reach her…

At night, Sakura would sometimes wake up and notice a crow staring at her from  the window, or even Itachi sitting in the chair, looking at her. Then she’d wake up and realize it was just a dream… but in the morning she’d wondered if it had been a dream or not.

Itachi couldn’t sleep. He’d admitted it himself. Apparently, edo tensei resurrections could eat and drink, but that was as far as their bodily functions went. They didn’t produce waste, reproduce, or sleep. Naturally, having a man who had killed hundreds of his own clansmen under her roof wasn’t the most reassuring type of house guest, so Sakura had started to avoid her house. She knew so many ANBU who were willing to spar with her that she could almost always find a sparring partner willing to go all the way against her, even on a daily basis, that she usually used that as an excuse to stay away from her flat till late. She even started spending more time at the lab with Tobirama – ignoring him – if only it meant she could avoid Itachi as long as possible.

But she didn’t dare ask him if he’d broken out of her control for fear to trigger some kind of latent killing instinct in him, and she also didn’t dare to show him how uncomfortable he made her, how he unsettled her. He was such a polite man, it was easy to shove her fear of him under the metaphorical bed, until the night. Easiest of all, though, was staying out of his way.

However, as previously stated, her lab had stopped being her safe space. Tobirama had made himself at home in every corner of it. He had stolen her precious dollar store green mug all for himself (it was cheap trash and yet his possession of it made her burn in fury) and would drink tea almost non-stop throughout the day. Also, he always put the tea leaves in his cup instead of on a sieve, and then poured them out directly into the sink, and it looked gross, and… ugh! Men! Why were they all such gross tea drinkers?

Tobirama’s tea consumption habits were really driving her up the wall. All previous statements about his intelligence were now void. No one with a single neuron would throw tea leaves into the cup when there was a perfectly usable sieve right in the cupboard!

It wasn’t just his tea habits that drove her up the wall, though. Tobirama continued to be obsessed with her private notebooks, meaning that he was looking over her shoulder whenever she wrote in them. 

Now, to get anything done, really done, she had to wait until she was alone. But with Itachi now in her house, there were precious few moments where this was true. A few times, she had dared continue her research in the lab, writing out her thoughts directly in the coded notebook, but this took much more effort than jotting them down on a piece of paper and then transcribing it, when the hard part was over. Plus, her writing in code directly had already it had drawn glances from Tobirama.

“What are you writing that I can’t know about?”

“My personal diary.”

“That doesn’t look like a diary.”

“Well, that’s just so no one will think to look for it if they believe it’s research notes.”

“Haruno, I know that’s not a diary.”

“How would you know that?”

“I just saw you plot a graph in it.”

“It’s a graph detailing my monthly happiness when plotted against meteorological changes.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re a terrible gossip. Stop asking about my diary, nidaime .”

“I’d stop asking if it was a blasted diary.”

She knew he’d been nosing around her things, trying to crack her coded notes, because she’d left a small cat hair on one of them one night, and in the next morning, it had been gone. Yes, Tobirama would be a fool not to realize she was keeping secrets, and he was trying to crack the code – but she wouldn’t let him.

In short, that meant he was watching her carefully while in the lab, so she could only do less relevant types of research while there. In fact, the only thing she could truly do was write down her findings – but having to do it in code meant that it was a slow and tedious process. The true work would start when she was alone in her bathroom, where she knew (or hoped) no one would dare to spy on her. Only there did she  pick up where she’d left off. So far, she’d only barely started to work on a new approach to combine the five elemental natures not involving the pentagram she’d used while in the shower. Only in the windowless, locked bathroom did she feel safe from Itachi's curious eyes and Tobirama’s proving questions.

Under the spray of the shower, a technique was starting to blossom, but it was only for short stretches of time that she could experiment, and only under Tobirama’s watchful gaze that she could pen in her findings.

“And I’m guessing that’s still your diary you’re writing in?” he would ask, whenever she so much as dared add a graph or anything remotely revealing to it.

“Yes, I’m a scientist. I get to add graphs to my diary.”

The nidaime would inevitably scoff and utter some variation of how she was a liar, to which she’d reply that at least she wasn’t a fucking rock masquerading as a human.

She was starting to get a feel for his personality (and how old-timey he was), so one time, when he irritated her more than usual, she told him she was plotting her menstrual flow.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, I didn’t tell you at first because it’s private, but if you insist on poking around my stuff – this diary is all about my menstrual flow and the changes to it depending on my activities that week.”

Tobirama actually looked flustered for a second there before moving straight to pissed. “Haruno, if you think that’s going to fly–”

“Don’t worry, if you insist, I can go more in depth about my menstrual flow-related findings–”

“–know you’re lying, damn it–”

“–heavy flow–”

“–will you please knock it out–”

“–dark black clumps sometimes form on–”

“–damn it, Haruno!”

With this exclamation, he stood up and briskly crossed the room, entering the adjacent kitchen and slamming the door behind him. From her chair, Sakura could only smirk smugly.

Who knew menstrual flow would be the key to driving the nidaime away?

The first week of cohabitation with the nidaime and Itachi passed Sakura by at a snail’s pace.  She kept remembering how here original goal had been to disprove Tobirama’s original statements and dismiss the man. She’d thought she could do so in the course of an evening… but oh, how innocent she’d been. The man could run circles around her where it came to physics and the understanding of the laws of nature in general, and it sadly showed. Whenever Sakura thought she’d made a breakthrough in proving his albino ass wrong, he came out with something else.

It was infuriating, the way he’d just know what she was going to say before she said it and finish disproving it before she was done proving it. One time she didn’t even realize that he had written down an equation that would make her own calculations moot before she’d gotten through the first half of them. She’d kept on telling him to wait until she was done and had only then realized that his equation was based off her end product… he had been that far ahead of her. Did he just… compute all that in his head or what? How far ahead could this guy see?

Conversations with him, at least when physics were involved, were sorely bruising for her ego. There was no way she’d be proving that there had been a blip like this. By the time the end of the weekend rolled around, Sakura hadn’t gotten any farther in showing Tobirama up than on day one. On the plus side, he was still stumbling around in the dark where it came to understanding her approach to achieving the activation energy. He still had no clue she’d used the Mokuton as a model, and thought that achieving such high energy levels was categorically impossible. Sakura could at least feel smug that she’d experimentally accomplished something he couldn’t even conceive as realistic, even if he didn’t believe her when she said so.

It meant that he may be better at the theory, but she was better at getting results. On other news, Itachi still hadn’t mentioned that he’d broken free of the edo tensei’s control, and didn’t seem too inclined to mention it anytime soon. He continued to be as polite and unobtrusive as ever, but this no longer felt so reassuring to Sakura. Meanwhile, she was being kept quite busy by the war taking place between Iwa and Iron, with Tenten and Mitani constantly faxing over coded messages into her home office.

She kept catching Itachi reading them. There wasn’t much time to worry if he understood this code, for her other concerns were more pressing. She simply sent back further orders and tried to ignore Itachi’s ever-present eyes following her ever movement. The war didn’t just impact her life in the form of continual faxes, though. Kakashi was gradually becoming busier because of it, especially as, within the span of the one week, the council seemed to have decided that it wouldn’t be so bad if Konoha fought in another war after all.

One. Week. That was how long it had taken them. Sakura understood Kakashi’s need to pull his hair out. She really did. As the week had progressed, increasingly more of their conversations had started centering around the war… and now, Sunday, seemed to be shaping up the same.

“What do you think? Will the fighting move to the mines?” he asked her out of nowhere when they were in the middle of lunch. 

Sakura sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts as she chewed on her squid. The latest faxes she’d received seemed to point in that direction, but Kakashi hadn’t mentioned some of the details she’d heard. Rare was the situation where Sakura was more informed about global affairs than Kakashi, but it happened occasionally, especially when the civilian underworld was somehow involved… and Kakashi was a smart guy. 

Sakura was sure he had his own thoughts and ideas about the occasional few times when she’d dropped into his office and made up a lie that a ‘patient’ had come up to tell her this or that in strict confidence, and that her medical oaths prevented her from repeating what patient it was, but the information was definitely reliable… Still, whenever she’d slipped him information that came from her own private sources, he never pressed her too much and simply accepted it – which is exactly why Sakura felt comfortable enough to continue to supply him with information.

“Honestly, Kakashi? I’d say the fighting probably has moved to the mines already. At least I’d operate under that assumption, if I were you. I’d also go ahead and take for granted that the various underworld syndicates are trying to move in and get a piece of the action. There’s a lot of money to be made of these new weapons… guns, gunpowder, the works. You can bank on the fact that they’ll already be finagling trade agreements on both sides with some of the big magnates overseas, working as middlemen and brokers if they have to, but…”

Kakashi was tensely watching her. He seemed like he was memorizing her every word for later study, rather than simply listening to an uninformed primary teacher’s opinion. Smart man. Sakura unfortunately couldn’t tell him a lot more than that without going into specifics. “Well, arms trade is booming,” she finished. “And as for what that has to do with the mines, the answers’ obvious: contraband. The fact that we’ve got fighting within those tunnels is telling us that rival gangs and governments are attempting to smuggle guns through them. They’re the best route in and out of Iwa, especially when you consider the Tsuchikage’s control over the skies…. It’s ironic, really, that Rock’s weaknesses are their rock tunnels, but in this case it’s true. I expect a tipping factor in the war will be decided by which side manages to take control of the best contraband routes and get the best weapons brokers from overseas to work with them.”

Kakashi looked increasingly serious. “What does this mean for us? Will all wars henceforth be fought with gunpowder?”

“Well,” said Sakura thoughtfully, “shinobi can react faster than untrained humans. Fast enough that they may be able to dodge or block bullets – something civilians cannot. Still, I would be very surprised if guns weren’t incorporated into all sides’ war tactics for the next big armed conflict. Guns don’t take chakra to shoot, for one, and are still extremely fast even for our standards… It’s bad news for us, overall, but closing our eyes to the new reality won’t help much, I reckon.”

“Naruto says they’re bullshit weapons. The council agrees with him.”

“Naruto doesn’t know shit. The council knows even less. A gun may not be able to do anything to Naruto’s Kyubi shroud but everyone else is fair game,” Sakura remarked. “Most shinobi would definitely gain something by incorporating them into their arsenal. I’m certain the next wars will be fought with guns.”

Kakashi sighed. “Sometimes I wish you were wrong more often, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Kakashi. I’m not telling you how to rule your country, just stating an opinion.”

“It’s your country, too,” said Kakashi with a heavy sigh. “And I happen to value your opinion… that’s why I don’t like hearing you say such things.”

He probably knew of Sakura’s track record in predicting future events with near pinpoint accuracy. She had managed to herald the biohazard war years before it happened and formulate a counterattack also years before it happened. It was the only reason Konoha was still standing, but ultimately, the choice of unleashing Sakura’s plague virus to counteract Kumo’s had been Kakashi’s. The death of those ten thousand people ultimately rested on his shoulders. Sakura could at least say she’d only created that virus weapon hoping it would never be used – which was true enough. She had come up with it to arm her friends in case of the very real possibility that someone decided to use medical ninjutsu to wage the next great war. When someone did, Sakura had long since informed Kakashi of the existence of her weapon and washed her hands of it. 

She’d not told Kakashi to deploy it, nor begged him not to. In fact, she never even brought up the Biohazard’s existence to him again. When Kakashi had been infected with Kumo’s supervirus, Kakashi had given the order from his ICU bed. Sakura had grabbed the Root team she’d reprogrammed and they’d been off to Kumo. Shika had taken care of the logistics; Ino communications. Sakura had simply overseen the medical aspects and healed anyone from their side who got infected. After that, all bets had been up. The only thing left to do was watch and wait – and hope that Sakura’s virus was deadlier than C’s. At least, she was guessing it was C who’d invented it, but for obvious reasons, nobody had ever been able to confirm that for her.

Long story short, Konoha’s logistics unit did a much better job infecting the Kumo population than Kumo’s had done, and it didn’t hurt that the Root officials doing the infecting had received extensive medical training for Sakura herself while she was the hospital director. Communications had ensured that the whole operation worked like a well-oiled machine, and with Tsunade still around to cover the home front, they were said. Before Sakura knew it, Kumo were begging for a cease fire phrased as a plea to exchange information regarding their ‘surprisingly parallel pandemics’.

C had been forced to fork over the cure to his little virus and Sakura had handed over the cure to her. She hadn’t even been concerned about getting rid of her biohazard weapon, because she’d created five separate viruses, each deadlier than the last, and they’d only deployed the third on the scale of tame to deadly. Should C have lied, they had several more ready and waiting. Luckily – for Kumo, C hadn’t lied about his cure, and the whole thing was presented as a terrible case of a world pandemic to the masses, with only the heads of state knowing that they’d just been in a war. The casualties were similar in numbers to the Great Second Shinobi War – but no one spoke of that, of course.

Sometimes, Sakura wondered if Shikamaru and Ino blamed her for those deaths. If they lay in their beds at night and suddenly thought of Sakura and shuddered. She certainly did, sometimes. Sakura knew that her shishou disapproved of Sakura’s experiments. They had never spoken of the virus Sakura had created. Tsunade had been forced to admit that its creation had saved Konoha from ruin, but at the same time, Sakura had a feeling that Tsunade was furious Sakura had gone behind her back and created such a biological weapon in secret in the first place.

She had yet to broach the topic, many years after the war. The only one who had mentioned it to her face was Kakashi – the only one who didn’t walk on eggshells around her after that whole debacle. Sakura knew that Kakashi was also likely the only one who didn’t blame her for those hundreds of thousands of deaths. He blamed himself. He thought he was the one who’d given the order, so all the blame rested on him.

Kakashi hated his job. Sakura knew he hated his job with every fiber of his being, and he especially hated that he was good at it. Good in a way Hiruzen hadn't been, for example. In a way even Tsunade had struggled with. Because Kakashi could make the hard choices when necessary, and if a hard choice came his way, he wasn’t like Hiruzen, who had delegated on Danzo to spare his conscience. No, Kakashi went all in and took full responsibility, and he hated every second of it but he never let anyone take even a shred of the blame or the responsibility. 

It was because he was so good at his job that he involved her. Sakura knew that Kakashi hated the notion of asking her about the war, or requesting she design new weapons, or train Root members, or take over a task force whose sole purpose was to commit war crimes… but at the end of the day, for better or for worse, Kakashi always ended coming to her for these things. Maybe he just didn’t want to damage Naruto, Sakura thought sometimes. It was counterintuitive he’d ask her, not Naruto. Not Sasuke, her.  Sometimes, when she lay in bed at night, part of her wondered if she’d become Kakashi’s Danzo, but she never allowed those thoughts to linguer.

Sakura was an Academy teacher and sure, she may have gotten involved in Kakashi’s politics once or twice, but she didn’t resemble Danzo at all… even though Danzo had named her as his replacement in the council. Sakura had never formally accepted the seat nor gone to a single meeting, and as far as she was concerned, the things written in Danzo’s will were just a forgery someone had committed to spit on the old man’s memory.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura sighed after a long silence had elapsed. “I wish guns weren’t becoming widespread like this, but they are. The civilian gangs have jumped on the firearm train, and with the war in Iwa as a catalyst, nothing’s gonna stop that industry from sinking its claws in us all.”

Kakashi nodded, seeming to remember only now that he had a full plate of squid in front of him. It must have gone cold.

“Do you recommend we get our own hands on them?”

Sakura sighed. “...I don’t really know. Maybe. It’s your call.”

Kakashi sighed. “I feel like everyone else I’ve asked about this is convinced they’re peanuts. You’re the only one who’s told me…” He trailed off.

“Civilian born p.o.v.,” Sakura shrugged. “Take it with a pinch of salt.”

“I wish I could…” Kakashi poked his squid unenthusiastically.

“Well, I’ve told you as much as I know,” Sakura said. “If you need to get in contact with a distributor, let me know.”

Kakashi gave her a droll look. “I take it one of your, ah, patients is an arms dealer now?”

Sakura gave him a flat stare in return. “Indeed.”

As usual, the man didn’t press her, but the question told her he wasn’t buying her excuses for a minute.

“Any other advice, oh consigliere of mine?” 

Sakura had taken him to see the Godfather – the movie being one of the reasons firearms had started becoming more widely known – and Kakashi was now a fan of Don Corleone. He would sprinkle in quotes from the movie every two conversations.

“That depends on if I’m a peace time consigliere or not,” Sakura said, referencing another dialogue.

Kakashi seemed to ponder this. “I think you’re a wartime one. Unfortunately.”

“Bully that,” Sakura said with a sigh. “Well, I resign. I’d rather be a peacetime one or not at all.”

Kakashi shook his head with a sigh of his own. “Don’t we all…”

“Well, here’s my council: I’d just focus on convincing the council to avoid involvement for now,” Sakura said. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground on the arms trade front.”

Kakashi had nodded gravely, and they’d adjourned their meal without much enthusiasm, washing their plates in silence.

When Sakura left Kakashi’s house, she was in an odd mood. Maudlin, almost. She had meant what she’d said to Kakashi. She didn’t want war or anything to do with it. The only reason she knew anything at all about the goings-on of the current war was Mitani, who saw fit to keep in touch with her and ask her for her opinion on things, even though he knew full well that she was currently an Academy teacher and couldn't possibly have an opinion. Still, his keeping her abreast of developments meant Sakura ended up having to ask around in order to form her opinions, and being the best friend of Ino and Kakashi, plus a trusted acquaintance of many of Konoha’s best ANBU, meant she did end up finding out about most things that went on.

She wished her head were less cluttered with all the bloodshed. She wished she could focus solely on her research and nothing else. No, not even that, because even she sometimes felt tired of thinking about work.

She dreamed of an evening in which she could just disconnect… read a nice book. Not romance – that only made her think of Ino’s harangues that she needed a boyfriend – but something else pleasant…

Sakura’s own feet ended up carrying her to her favorite little nook in the wall, a small bookstore that sold second hand tomes and seemed old enough to be leftover from the Founding of Konoha itself.

Sakura greeted old man Ike at the counter with a familiar nod coming in. She had not wanted to speak to anyone today, not after the conversation she’d just had with Kakashi, but the old man seemed delighted at her appearance and the idea of just not talking to him suddenly broke her heart, so she made an effort to chat. Mr Ike had known Sakura her since she had been a little girl, and she owed him her life in many senses for allowing her refuge in his shop when things had gotten too much at home.  She remembered sitting on one of the ladders that allowed people to climb to the high ceilings of the little shop for hours upon hours on end, unless it was way past closing time and the old couple had to send her home.

Mr Ike’s wife, who was Sakura’s name twin, had even cooked hwe stews when she had gotten sick as a child, saying that Sakuras should stick together.  Sakura would never forget the old couple’s kindness to her. She’d been to the funeral after the old lady had died and had even paid for the repairs the bookshop had required after Pain, as well as healed the old couple’s medical issues since she’d been twelve. Sakura already had a grandmother she loved, but these two – with now only the old man left – had been her honorary grandparents.

“Well, how are you holding up, hm?”

“Fine, sir, things are fine,” Sakura said.

“Don’t sound too cheery there, Sakura-chan,” the old Mr Ike noted.

“It’s been a long day. Don’t worry, sir, I’m just a little tired is all.”

“I’ve got something for you, then,” said the quiet Mr Ike, handing her a book he’d saved under the counter. “It was sold last week along with some other old inheritance things.”

Sakura peered at the book and perked up in surprise. “Another legal treatise?” 

The author was a famous scholar who had lived some hundred years ago, but whose ideas still were discussed in the present day. His progressive notions on women rights and social change in general made him Sakura’s favorite. The essay he’d written about clanism had given her hope when she was a young girl struggling to read some of the tougher kanji on the page. Any text by this man cheered her up just because of what he’d meant to her as a child. He was one of the principal defenders of her rights and sometimes she felt like he was talking straight to her when she read something of his.

“Only you could perk up at the notion of getting to read a lega treatise,” chuckled Mr Ike. “But no, look closely.”

Sakura squinted at the worn cover in surprise. 

Songs on Death by Fukuzawa Yukichi, it read simply. No fancy lettering, nothing but that rather sordid title.

Sakura thumbed through the book and quickly saw that it was filled with the classic prose-layout of a poetry book.

“I didn’t know old Fuku wrote poems?” Sakura said in surprise. Fukuzawa may be one of her favorite scholars, but he could make for a rather dry read at times. Sakura actually appreciated this, as she felt that flowery wording distracted from the actual meaning of important topics, and at times could even feel like an insult to the issues being discussed… but if one wanted to write poetry…

“Don’t think they’re very good, to be honest,” Mr Ike confided candidly. “There’s a preface on the book that says these were found and published posthumously by an anonymous family member who decided to publish them – simultaneously sending notice that Fukuzawa had died. The poetry book got entirely overshadowed by the news… but besides that, you can obviously tell he’s not an experienced poet just by glancing over them.”

Sakura looked at the poems with interest. “Still… I can’t believe the book is better known. I’d give anything to peer into Fuku’s brain.”

“Well, you can just buy it, there’s no need to give me anything,” Mr Ike joked.

Sakura chuckled and forked over the cash. She was eager to get home and read quietly after a long day – a long week, to be honest – so the interaction didn’t last much longer.

Already on the way home, Sakura opened the little poetry book, skimming over the introduction and then jumping around haphazardly over the pages. She landed on a poem that caught her attention and lingered on it for a little longer than the others.

Far Away

 

Dreaming of a place out of reach

I set sail, searching for it

missed my mark, now I’m stranded.

“If that isn’t my whole resurrection research in a nutshell,” Sakura mused to herself. The poem encapsulated pretty well how she’d felt after her first failed attempt… at least so far. She returned back to her book, pleasantly surprised by the quality, and prepared for a pleasant evening spent forgetting the rest of the world.

Far Away

 

Dreaming of a place out of reach

I set sail, searching for it

now I’m stranded.

 

You warned me,

“don’t go there, brother”

but I did.

 

So you track with silent censure

just stand there and watch me dig

my way into the trenches.

 

Long journey, but I missed my mark

we each stumbled blindly, 

like two ships in the dark.

 

Mine capsized

now I’m master of its graveyard,

reaper and raven.

 

Should I feel chastised?

You watch from your safe haven, 

with pitiless eyes, over the dark water.

 

As you shake your head

tell me how “intentions don’t matter,

when the son repeats the sins of the father”.

 

I’ve heard it enough, in as many words,

you don’t want me and not my sword,

I know I’m not worth the cost

of all those things that I lost.

 

So drag water over our canvas,

and erase my shape of ashes and dust,

go on, tell them all.

 

Tell them how I’d dance on his carcass

that I can’t let anything go

that I  care for nothing and  never did.

 

And so if all that’s true

if the one that’s right is you,

then what’s left of me?

Who am I? Am I even allowed to disagree?

 

I wonder if you ever see

see me bleed,

Or if you ever hear

hear me rage.

 

You say I cast us off a cliff

and now you’re the one paying for it

It was my fault, 

you warned me, I know you did.

 

Now my voice is fraying at the seams

If I could speak 

I’d ask for what you’ll never give.

 

But of all things I  can only do one,

namely  what  I’ve always  done:

listen to your goldfinch song

as I rip the world to shreds. 

 

We were never birds of a feather

that much you won’t let me forget

but we are goldfinch and raven,

still birds, white and brunette.

 

It is what it is: I haunt the dead even in heaven,

Meanwhile you bring all men together.

All but me, the only straggler,

even though I try ever harder.

 

I wish you could hear

hear me scream

“I would rather die than ruin your dream”.

 

The crashing of the waves, 

echoes my call

they burst  against your gunwale,

all I hear is “no”.

 

Good intentions and boundless hate

are what paves the road to  hell,

I never knew till it was too late.

 

Why do men try to fix what can’t be fixed?

That’s yet another thing I could never tell.

Ink once dry cannot be removed

Even if you wish and wish it didn’t exist

blood once spilled is spilled for good.

 

I’m old enough to acknowledge 

That there’s no going back 

I cast us of a narrow ledge

Dug the grave, filled the sack.

 

Dreaming of a place that doesn’t exist

I set sail, searching for it

Peace, what’s peace, in a world of balled fists?

 

To pave the way I swang my needle

that sewed war’s tapestry 

and joined this mad dance of “good” and “evil”

gray as such things may be.

 

Like wine down the gullet 

came blood, came gore

in and out my blade rushed

but peace remained elusive as ore.

 

But our tapestry was yours to tear apart.

If nothing else, it happened fast

I blinked and it was over 

 

When did it start?

 “don’t go there, brother”

you warned me,  

but my needle had found her mark.

 

And I never realized until it was too late

that all is conditional in life

all except for hate

 

Hate and death, the jacks of all trades

but your love, your love was finite

 though you had it in spades.

 

It haunts me like frostbite,

this lack of light,

after all fires fade, in the darkest night,

your flame would burn bright,

 

Of this I never had a doubt

and yet now I sit in  your blackout.

Dreaming of a place of make belier.

 

I once set sail, searching for it

missed my mark, 

was left adrift.

 

Now wiser I know,

how these things always go:

“A ship once built 

Must be sent to sea,

A weapon once forged

must be used to kill.”

 

Tied to my broken prow

captain of holier than thou

I sit and reflect, quiet and bereft.

 

I wonder if you ever see

see what little I have left

I still bleed red

but that’s about it.

 

And black is the colour of the cleft

that’s nestled itself in my chest,

as well as the page

filled with my regrets.

 

Did you know?

I doubt that’s the case 

as I’m already far away

and with distance, all fades.

 

An oxymoron, to kill for peace

but that’s what I did.

And as I took and took 

Coaxing life out of closing eyes 

I know that I lost you for good

I may be clever but I was never wise.

 

 

Now here’s one word of hard-learned advice:

What’s gone is gone for the rest of your life,

A thread ripped can be patched but never fixed.

 

The ripples of your waves

will spread over the sea,

And drift back with tomorrow’s breeze.

 

One string too many is always cut, 

one grave too many is always dug,

lives are lost, bodies are sutured

 

and just when you think the end is in sight

then you’ll realize that the future 

always reflects the mistakes of the past.

 

All those bodies in the flow 

of war’s firestorms and its graves

Irrevocable as the passing of the soul

deafening as the crashing of the waves.

 

And by the time you realize you made a mistake

there’ll be nothing left to save

from the ruins remaining in your wake.

 

And so I spilt blood over your four-leafed clovers

did it by the book, back to cover,

I paved the road to hell,

there’s not much else to tell.

 

but our tapestry was yours to tear apart

string by string, mind and heart

didn’t learn my lesson, 

still got failing marks.

 

I ruined it all, single-handed,

with one sword, in one second,

did the thing and came out branded.

 

After all this I now reckon

that peace isn’t an place, 

peace is a peole.

 

Peace is found within

which if I may be candid

means I’ll never find it herein.

 

I watch as the waves roll in

on the heels of a cold wind

Listen to the echo of memory

drowning out the words on my lips.

 

For words never heard

are words never spoken

a trail never walked

is a path never opened,

 

Dreaming of a place I can’t reach

I set sail, searching for it

Peace, what’s peace? 

 

If it’s found within, then how could it exist 

in this world of lost childhood dreams

And old men’s caprice?

 

And  I looked in every port for your trail

called from every tower your name.

You were there, but you never came

even in looking for you, I’ve failed.

 

You never turned towards me, 

never opened your eyes to see

the strings of  our torn tapestry.

 

Did you watch as I did, did you watch them drift

those strings woven from the cradle?

drift apart as wisps of red thread like in the fable.

Did they rise like smoke, soft and swift? 

 

I feel that we disperseed into the empty dark,

away from our homeland

whoever we were, we are no longer

those times were good, when we were younger

 

In memory they now fade, into the universe,

into an eternal void, a blank verse

a collage of words that cannot be taken back,

words that made us drift apart.

 

Words, so powerful, to tear us  at the seams,

to break and reshape a people anew,

now knotted over and fading as morning dew,

cut by lost lives and lost dreams

 

It was my mistakes and your casual remarks

that brought us to this place in the dark,

So at last hear we are,

as I try to call your name

my voice can’t travel so far. 

 

the echoing of our childhood games

and our dreams, and our shared blood

drifts into my brain,

or is it down the drain?

 

Your name lodges in my chest,

now forever silenced by the veil

of your cold, gray disdain.

 

Unspoken words and broken oaths,

I can only watch as the chasm grows

with every passing day

I wonder if you want it to be that way?

 

I could never truly change, 

it was always just the same: 

ever clever, never wise,

same stone, same time.

 

don’t worry, brother, I understand

I can’t change but I could always run,

don’t worry,  wide is the land,

and wider still the sea.

Dreaming of a place I can’t reach

I set sail, searching for it

missed my mark, now I’m stranded,

far, far away.

How sad was that poem? 

Sakura was moved by it, even though she understood exactly nothing. Something about it, though… it touched a fiber for her. It made her think of how she and Naruto had drifted apart over the years… she and everyone, to some extent. It was… depressing, truly. Just what she needed to have a nice, long read and enjoy some alone time. 

Trust good ol’ Fuku to help her feel better…  even if it was by making her feel worse. Yet, somehow, reading something that made her sad could be liberating, in a way. It helped air out emotions that otherwise weren’t there.

It was perhaps this that put her in the mood to actually  talk to someone about her problems. None of them were as existential as Fuku’s seemed to be – more on the ‘I have to deal with having zombies in my house’ type problems.

While Sakura would hate nothing quite as much as Ino telling her “I told you so”, it had been almost a week since she’d realized Itachi had broken free of the jutsu’s control, and she just had to talk about it with someone other than Tobirama (whose only inputs were butcher comments and the occasional remark that he wasn’t going to help Sakura deal with a problem that she herself had created, and that, if Itachi mauled her in her sleep, it would be her fault. Fucking Tobirama.

Anyway, after that Sunday lunch with the Hokage, Sakura finally had enough of keeping quiet and crawled her way to Ino’s place. After ascertaining that the wards were up and Ino had time to listen to her rant, Sakura found the events of the past week erupting from her lips like a jetstream.

“He’s like a freaking vampire,” Sakura found herself saying twenty minutes into her rant. “You invite him into your house, you’re doomed.”

“Forehead, I hate to tell you this, but I told you so.”

“Damn it, Pig! The bloody nidaime has already harped on about that fifty times. I don’t need to add your name to my will-strangle-if-they-say-that-one-more-time list.”

“Well, we did both warn you that it was a bad idea to summon Itachi.”

Sakura glared at her mulishly.

“Look, girl, it’s really simple,” Ino had said, crossing her arms bossily. “If you don’t like Itachi staying with you, kick him out!”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Ino,” Sakura breathed, leaning over the table. “The last thing you want to do when you’ve got a bloody vampire staying over is angering said vampire. Or tipping him off that you know he’s a vampire.”

Ino rolled her eyes. “Gods, Forehead. You can kick him out without making a big deal about it.  For instance by getting a boyfriend! He’d get the hint if you told him you’re dating somebody!”

“Ino!” Sakura protested. “Don’t start with this again!”

“I’m serious! That would be the perfect excuse to let him know you want him gone  without a confrontation!”

“I’m not scared of offending him,” Sakura snapped irritably. “What I want to avoid is tipping him off that I know he broke the edo tensei’s control. It might just be all he needs to activate the kill switch! Kicking him out of my place will hardly change anything in terms of my safety!”

“Then figure out how to un-summon him!”

“The un-dead need to be sealed, Ino,” Sakura snapped. “They can’t just be unsummoned. That, or caught in giant explosions caused by last time’s mistake, apparently.”

“Forehead. You’ve finally seen reason, now all that’s left to do is get rid of the man.”

“But I’m not kicking Itachi out!”

Who knows what he could do if I make him mad… especially if he’s broken free of my control, she thought with a shudder.  She was letting him stay in her flat while she slept– the the blonde would flip out and tell her she’d known all along it was a bad idea to summon Itachi, and that she should stick with just Tobirama. Tobirama who was a sexist bastard and who needed to be tempered by using Itachi.

The situation was like a sardine biting its tail!

“Mark my words, Forehead… that man will be the death of you,” Ino declared ominously.

 These words were still echoing in Sakura’s head when she made it home fifteen minutes later, still without having resolved on a course of action for dealing with the Itachi Situation, as Ino had dubbed it.

 Sakura paged through her poetry book to pass the time and eventually Itachi offered to make dinner. It cost all her bravery to agree, though she was ready to flush poison from her body immediately.

She and Itachi ate dinner in silence, Sakura keeping her eyes on her plate, though she could feel Itachi’s eyes  on her.

“Sakura-san,” he said eventually. “Do you want me to move out?”

Sakura blinked in surprise, glancing up at him. “Huh?”

Itachi tapped his chopsticks. “I’m a problem-solver, Sakura-san. You seem stressed of late. I’m afraid I can’t do anything to help with that, except for maybe getting out of your hair. Would that help?”

Yes.

“Not necessary,” she said. “I mean… I couldn’t do that to you…”

Damn it. Why did she have to be such a people pleaser sometimes? Why couldn't she just tell him to move out to his face? This wasn’t an issue with Tobirama! Itachi raised a brow.

“Sakura-san, you are forcing Tobirama to live in a lab that doesn’t even have  a bed. I am sure we could figure something out for me too.”

“Now you’re just making me sound horrible,” Sakura muttered.

Itachi smirked a little. “Well, he hasn’t been very polite either.”

Sakura sighed, rubbing her eyes, now feeling bad about Tobirama. When he put it like that, she really seemed like such a bitch…

“Don’t,” Itachi said, smiling at her. “Don’t feel so guilty about it. You’re giving him the chance to resurrect his family; he can deal with a little bit of discomfort.” He paused  pointedly. “As can I.”

“I… I don’t know. I mean…” Sakura sucked in a breath. “Perhaps I should rent a flat so the two of you could move in somewhere more spacious, so that you could each have a larger area to stay in… of your own?” Sakura offered.

“Whatever you wish,” Itachi said. 

She nodded, mentally shifting through all the safe houses and properties she owned. In the end, she decided that since Tenten and some of the others knew about most if not all of them, they weren’t actually  safe. Not if Itachi was going to live in one.

“I’ll find you a flat,” Sakura said. “Maybe big enough that Tobirama could also stay there… provided he’s confined to his part of the apartment.”

Itachi nodded, amused. “And perhaps you could ask Kakashi to improve the security measures around your bedroom, for your own peace of mind.”

Sakura sighed, suddenly feeling tired. Damn it. He could read her like a book. “Maybe…” she said weakly. Then: “I’m sorry.” For not trusting you. For summoning you here, and then acting like you’re a leper.

“That’s alright,” said Itachi gently, taking a bite of the food. “Again, I could also spend the night in the lab, or elsewhere. You don’t have to rent a flat.”

Now she really felt bad, and the worst part was, she knew if he was manipulating her, he was so damn good at it, but she didn’t care!  

She slept well that night, damningly, dozing off to the thought of the new apartment she was going to find and the fact that Itachi would be out of her hair, soon, as he put it. She was in a much better mood on her way to the Academy the next day, reflecting about Ino’s words again. Perhaps her corpses weren't her friends, but in some way they were ”there” for her, even if in a small way, much as Ino may like to dramatize her time spent with them in the lab.

At least Itachi was. Tobirama’s punctiliousness about all things decorum irritated her so much that she’d started to purposely annoy him back by wearing skimpy skirts to the lab, swearing like a sailor when he was in hearing distance, slurping on her tea as irritatingly as possible when in front of him, chewing gum and loudly blowing bubbles in his face when he talked, and generally acting as uncouth in his presence as she could stomach. Which, as it turns out, was quite uncouth.  She was even debating on farting in front of him, but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve. 

Speaking of breaking wind, someone in her class just did. Sakura’s nose twitched in irritation and since she couldn’t tell who had farted, she decided to take it out on Satoru, whose head was once again twitching periodically as he nodded off over yet another penis drawing.

This time, Sakura wasn’t so annoyed  and more amused at the boy’s troublesome antics. He was like a strange blend between Naruto and Shikamaru.

With a flick of her wrist, she threw a piece of chalk. Bull's eye, it hit him smack dab in the forehead.,

"H-ah!?" he sat up, glancing around wildly.

"Satoru-kun," Sakura deadpanned. "I can’t help but notice that you have failed to take notes of what we’re discussing."

"S-sorry, sensei."

“Perhaps you would like to come to the front of the class and give a presentation on what you were writing down.”

Satoru was visibly panic stricken, jerkily glancing at (yet another) penis drawing he’d been napping on, then back at her. Sakura gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure those proportions are anatomically correct this time.”

The boy, now terrified in earnest, sat up straighter, rubbing his forehead with one hand and attempting to hide his artwork with the other. The class broke out into raucous laughter, waking up from their prior stupor and whispering about her deadly aim and the content of Satoru’s ‘notes’.

“Well, Satoru-kun?” Sakura’s voice was honey. “Can we expect a presentation?”

“Maybe another day, sensei,” the boy stuttered, barely able  to meet her eye.

The class burst out into even louder cackles.

Sakura resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Satoru flashed his classmates a shy grin.

"I’ll take you up on that when you least expect it, Satoru,” she drawled ominously, channeling Kakashi at his most troll. It was effective and the boy’s grin vanished. Sakura turned away from him, pleased that her intimidation tactics had worked. “And now, since we’re all roused and ready, let's continue. As I was saying, we can liken the chemical processes that take place within our chakra networks to certain acid base reactions studied in biochemistry..."

By the time the bell finally rang, Sakura was in a better mood than usual. She’d go flat hunting later, and…  she should probably apologize to Ino. 

After a long week of flat-hunting, Sakura had settled on an apartment she liked and bought it, not even bothering with renting it. Buying it would be more convenient for what she had in mind. It would have taken someone else longer to find a flat they liked and settle for it, especially with how expensive buying a flat was, but Sakura was a frequent buyer of property,  so she knew how these things worked. With Konoha’s expanding economy, everyone and their grandmother was looking for flats, and all good offers vanished a mere day after being posted on the agency bulletins.

First come, first serve, was the rule, and generally, the buyers who showed up with the cash and just took the flat immediately were the ones who got it, whereas those who waited around, debating on what to do, missed all the best offers. Admittedly, Sakura was still usually more on the careful side, even if she’d waited to jump on a good deal when she saw one – but if she was honest with herself, she’d acted so quickly today because she wanted to finally be able to sleep for a full night without fearing for her life as much.

She’d bought the apartment already and now she and Itachi had to furnish and renovate it. They’d already finished moving all the boxes (well, Sakura had) and Itachi had suggested she stay in her old flat for now, of which the lease had still not expired, while he got a headstart on unpacking and renovating the place. It might have been smarter to micromanage him to ensure he didn’t hide any traps, but she was craving a night in her own space, without him puttering about literally in the living room next door, only a few paces away, so she’d taken the chance.

ONE year TWELVE months Before YANAGI

“Good morning, Sakura-san.” As usual, Itachi was there to greet her by the door, like a dedicated house-wife, except one with ulterior motives. And less dedicated and more manipulative. She had to remind herself of this constantly or she’d start liking him too much.

“Morning, Itachi. Sorry I left without helping with the move-in process. Did you make any headway into the secret partition?”

Itachi looked pleased. “Yes, actually. Let me show you.”

They talked about the home renovations for a while, discussing where Sakura wanted everything to be and where it would be safest to put the hidden rooms from a perspective of keeping Itachi and Tobirama hidden, should someone look inside through the windows. Then they had lunch together and even some sweets Itachi had acquired. Somehow.

“Itachi… are you… borrowing money from me?” Sakura asked, narrowing her eyes at him over the table. How exactly did he keep buying all this food? She’d honestly wanted to ask until now, not wanting to ruffle any  feathers, but somehow she felt closer to him after the whole flat ordeal.

Itachi looked wide-eyed for a moment, then said: “Oh, no, Sakura-san. So sorry if you thought that, I am borrowing from Sasuke.”

“You–you’re what?” she exclaimed, sitting up in her chair. “Are you insane?!”

“Ah, it’s okay. He’ll never catch me.”

“Itachi-san!”

Itachi laughed, the sound startling her. “There’s no need to be so alarmed, Sakura. For all that my brother is an excellent fighter, I fear he is no match to me in terms of genjutsu prowess. Nor a good bookkeeper.”

Well, whose fault is that? Sakura thought.

“So you’re basically putting him under a genjutsu to steal his money,” she surmised.

“I see no need to phrase it so crassly, but in essence…”

Sakura couldn’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of it. She burst out laughing, honest to god chortling like she hadn’t in a long time, and Itachi… Itachi joined her! As surprising as it would seem, Sakura suddenly found herself laughing until her stomach hurt with one of history’s most prolific mass murderers. 

“Gods, I love Sasuke, but this is too funny!”  she exclaimed.  A rather vindictive part of her enjoyed the idea that Sasuke could be tricked so easily. 

“You  really did throw that fight, didn’t you, Itachi?” she found herself asking through her laughter.

Itachi chuckled. “I can’t say either way.”

“Please, it’s obvious!” she coaxed. “You great bastard! I can’t believe you’re stealing from under Sasuke’s nose…! This is too much.”

“And I see you’re tickled pink by it,” Itachi remarked.

Sakura laughed. “Fucking make another pun on my hair colour and see what happens, asshole!”

Itachi blinked obviously and suddenly looked alarmed. “I didn’t – I wasn’t – I didn’t realize it was a pun?”

His sudden alarm was somehow even funnier and Sakura started laughing again.

When she finally calmed down, Itachi looked quietly resigned to his face.

“Well, I have to say,” she leaned back in her chair, swiping some hair from her face, “that you’re right. Sasuke was never the best at genjutsu.”

Itachi gave her a questioning look.

Sakura smiled. “He even admitted I was better than him at it when we were taking our chunin exams.”

“I don’t believe it,” Itachi said immediately.

Somewhat miffed, she gave him a glare. “Well, then believe it, as Naruto would say.” She quickly recounted the episode in which some chunin had placed a genjutsu over the door of the first test, and how Sasuke had bragged to everyone about it, later mentioning that Sakura had noticed the illusion before everyone else.

“That’s not the same as saying you’re better at it than him.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Sakura asked irritably.

“No, because his Sharingan was deactivated.”

“Well, all my teachers always said I had a real knack for genjutsu – the best they’d seen in years.”

Itachi rolled his eyes. “And they said the same thing about Sasuke: that proves nothing.”

“Oh, right, you spied on us. So sorry, Itachi-san, but you won’t manage to trick me. They said that about Sasuke’s fighting skill. I was the one who got praised for my genjutsu ability.”

“You may be very good at it, but you’re not an Uchiha,” Itachi replied with finailty.

“Well, I maintain that you don’t need to have a Sharingan to be good at genjutsu,” Sakura said, to which he outright scoffed. This was the most irreverent she’d ever seen him, and to be honest, she quite liked it. “It’s true!” she insisted. “All you need is chakra control, which I have in spades.”

“I beg to differ. If I caught you in a genjutsu right now, you’d be none the wiser.”

“Or maybe I’ve caught you in a genjutsu as we speak and you are none the wiser,” Sakura fired back.

Itachi raised a brow. “Have you indeed, Haruno.”

“No Sakura-san? You wound me, Itachi,” Sakura said with a smirk. “And perhaps I’ll catch you in a genjutsu when you least expect it.”

“Or perhaps I shall, instead.”

“Is that a challenge?” she asked, unable to repress some of her giddiness.

Itachi hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to actually state he was planning to use a genjutsu on her. Sakura rolled his eyes, charmed by his uncertainty despite herself.

“Honestly, Itachi, can’t you tell we’re bantering? You’ve got permission to try to trap me in an illusion. Note that I said try since I’ll prove you can’t.”

Itachi smiled, looking a little relieved by her overt permission. “Then I’ll prove that I can.”

“Okay, but no genjutsu in my sleep.”

“Everything else is fair game?”

“Only when I’m at home,” she said, but gave a nod.

“Then it’s a deal.”

“You can expect an onslaught from me as well,” Sakura said. He had no idea Kakashi had taught her some of the deadliest genjutsu he knew, including genjutsu he’d copied from Itachi himself, or which Sasuke had copied from him.

“May the best illusionist win,” said Itachi solemnly.

She repressed a snort and tipped her glass at him. “Or the sneakiest.”

ONE year TWELVE months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

“God damn it, this is getting old!” Sakura spat, standing from her chair furiously.

“Forehead!”

“For the last time, nidaime , your math is wrong! I’m telling you, I sensed a spike in the reaction curve!”

Tobirama took a deep breath. “There is no spike , Haruno. Why can’t you just accept that you weren’t in the right state of mind at the time to correctly evaluate your surroundings?”

“And why can’t you accept that I sensed it!” Sakura yelled.

“Because it doesn’t fit with anything I’ve studied so far!”

Sakura heard Ino sighing in the background, but she didn’t care. It’d been two months since she’d brought back Tobirama and Itachi; almost three since the explosion that had nearly killed her, and still she and Tobirama couldn’t agree on this one thing.

He was so intelligent, it drove her up the wall,  made her want to throw herself out of a window, spill her tea over her own hair and shake it like a dog… just go crazy, in general, because he was capable of such genius that she sometimes despaired and thought she’d never understand his work.

He was so much… too much, in person, for her to handle. Sakura wasn’t an idiot. She knew that she couldn’t outright dismiss him when he said something, as she would have been able to dismiss or disprove the theories presented by someone else. He asked so many questions and drew such exact conclusions that if she kept him on, there would be nothing she could do in the lab that wouldn’t escape his notice. Sakura knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that, should she continue to research the Mokuton in his presence, he would know.

A part of her was beginning to doubt herself. Maybe she really had imagined that blip in the reaction curve during her attempt at the pure resurrection? Maybe Tobirama was right… maybe she’d deluded herself. But she hated that he wasn’t even willing to so much as consider that she may be right, just dismissing her outright as if her opinion was worth nothing.

She was tired of repeating the same argument to him over and over again, but it was just an issue that kept cropping up since it was so important. Their interpretation of what had gone wrong during her first attempt at the pure world resurrection would determine the solution to the problem. If Sakura was right and there really had been a spike in the reaction curve, then that meant that the problem stemmed from the chakra natures not being mixed correctly, which would mean that her fundamental approach to the problem could still be correct; it would’ve been a ‘chakra control’ error, so to speak – something more minor.

Tobirama, however, insisted that the problem lay in her approach as a whole and that they needed to rework it all from the beginning. Admittedly, it was partly… her fault that he didn’t fully understand why her approach could work. She had let him read her notes, yes, but the binder she’d given him neglected to mention her research on the Mokuton (which was written elsewhere in code). Tobirama would have no idea she’d theorized that reworking the Mokuton was the key to mastering the reaction. She had written down the Mokuton related bits separately, in the special code she’d come up with as a teenager… her so-called menstruation diary.  

And maybe Tonirama had a right to be mad she hadn’t shared its contents with him… but… It wasn’t even the things he said , really. It was his expressions… it was the way he’d get that look on his face as if he was judging them – her or Ino – when they did or said certain things. He made her lose it like no one else could. For example, when Sakura swore, Tobirama would frown, as if disapproving of a woman who cursed; or when Ino had started wearing mini skirts to the lab again, he’d looked her up and down with a curled lip. It pissed Sakura off. What had irritated  her the most was that Ino had clearly noticed the nidaime judging her and she’d started to wear modest outfits instead whenever she visited.

That had given Sakura the rest. Ino, dressing modestly? Ino ? Who did Tobirama think he was, to go making them feel judged like that? She didn’t give a fuck if the women in his time who had dressed like that had been considered sluts. How dare he judge them?

And so, Sakura had taken it upon herself to take the bastard down a peg or two… by doing all those things she knew annoyed him. She’d dug her teenage skirts out of her closet and even bought a pair of tight white pants when she was feeling inspired. Hell, she’d even asked her ANBU pals to help her brush up on her most unladylike swear words and body posture. Anything to ruffle Tobirama’s feathers, to teach him a lesson. She wasn’t going to let him steamroll all over her and Ino’s personality with his disapproving looks and curled lips.

Whenever he went too far, she had started to call him Rock-kun, because he had the emotional range of a rock. Not that she’d told him that, but clearly, he understood his new nickname wasn’t meant as a compliment, as it always pissed him off. Which was a good thing. Someone had to teach the jerk some humility. If he expected Sakura to suck up to him, he had another thing coming.

Whether he knew what she was trying to do or not, Sakura’s attempts to get under his skin were paying off. Which perhaps wasn’t exactly what she should be trying to accomplish here, but his intelligence and I-know-everything-better-than-you attitude were sometimes so grating on her self esteem that she had to find other ways to take him down a peg. When he lost his composure, she got her control back.

“I don’t care if it fits anything you’ve studied so far or not,’ Sakura snapped. So what if she was picking a fight again? He still refused to listen! “My reaction checks out, nidaime. It makes sense that there was a blip just as long as the mistake was in the stearic configurations–”

“What are you even talking about?” Tobirama interrupted. “ What stearic configurations? Why amass all five elements? Were you just doing things at random?”

“No, I told you, I fused all five elements because–” I’m following the Mokuton model.

“Because what? Just because using all elements seems flashy doesn’t mean it’s in any way what the technique requires.”

“How would you know that?” Sakura snapped.

“Maybe because I’ve dedicated my life to studying jutsu?” Tobirama snapped.

“Well, so have I!”

“Yes, clearly, ” Tobirama bit back sarcastically.

Sakura’s mouth opened, then closed again. Her eyes narrowed. Did he just look her over condescendingly? As in, at her outfit? How dare he?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sakura asked with narrowed eyes. And yes, maybe she was spoiling for a fight – maybe she’d purposefully pushed and pushed and pushed until the nidaime finally dropped to her level – but damn if she wasn’t angry right then. 

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie, you just gave me a once over as if–” Sakura broke off. “As if judging my ability as a researcher based on what I look like.”

“I’ve done no such thing,” Tobirama snapped irritably.

“Your eyes spoke loud and clear,” Sakura cut him off. “You were judging me for my appearance, weren’t you?”

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to make us waste time discussing this?”

“I’ll discuss whatever I damn well please with you, Rock-kun .” Sakura spat.

“Then let’s discuss why you keep comparing me to a rock. I’ve been keeping quiet about your inexcusable–”

“Oh, you’re the victim now? Are you kidding me?” Sakura yelled, rounding the table.

Tobirama stood too, towering over her. “You don’t see me calling you degrading insults.”

“But you were thinking it, weren’t you!” Sakura got in his face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you judging Ino for how she dresses, and now me as well–”

“So is that why you switched your clothes? Just to prove a petty point?” Tobirama asked with a sneer. “Go on, continue with your scantily clad crusade. I’m sure you’ll be glad you did when sulphuric acid falls on your legs–”

“I’m a medic. I’m immune to sulphuric acid! And don’t act as if your only problem with my clothes is lab safety!”

“Well excuse me if they make me uncomfortable to be working with someone who looks like a harlot. If you want to parade around dressed like that , do it on your own damn time–”

Wham.

Before she knew what was happening, Sakura had punched Tobirama in the face, and then he was swooshing clear across the room – Itachi was moving the coat rack to the side – and Tobirama was slamming straight past him and into the wall.

“Say that again,” Sakura growled, fist still outstretched. Her blood was boiling. She knew it. She knew he was thinking it. That sexist son of a bitch.

“Forehead!” Ino protested from the corner. “Why did you do that? I’m so sorry, nidaime-sama–”

With a grunt, Tobirama dislodged himself from the wall – which had cracks in it now, great – and turned around to face her. His jaw was clenched and Sakura just knew he was about to say something else rude. She glared triumphantly at him.

“What is wrong with you?” he snapped, his jaw now ticking in clear fury. 

“What is wrong with me?” she yelled. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you ever even look in the mirror?”

“Do I–? Are you seriously asking me if I look in the mirror, Haruno? You ?”

“Call me a harlot again and see what happens,” she spat coldly,

“I didn’t call you a harlot, Haruno. I just said you dressed like one. If you had functioning ears, you would know that.”

“Oh, please,” Sakura snapped, narrowing her eyes hard at him. “I saw how you looked at me.”

“You provoked me into it,” the nidaime bit out. “And don’t say you didn’t.”

“Go on, dig your hole deeper.”

The nidaime gritted his teeth, patting his cheeks, which now had carcass particles falling off of them. She’d definitely landed a good hit.

“I don’t think you’re a harlot,” Tobirama said slowly. “But why would you insist on wearing skirts that could pass as a loincloth–?”

“A loincloth?!” Sakura roared. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Sakura–” Itachi cut in urgently.

“Not now, Itachi,” she snapped, crossing her arms to glare at the nidaime. “In case you didn’t know, Senju, clothes are just clothes. They don’t make anyone any more or less of a harlot. And there’s nothing embarrassing about  being promiscuous, either!”

She advanced on him and grabbed him by his stupid fur collar again. He slapped her hand away, looming over her instead of letting her intimidate him.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve, Haruno –”

“Oh, I have the nerve? Do you even–?”

“ –your suspicious behavior and your constant provocations–”

“ I’m suspicious? Really? All you fucking do is act high and mighty and as if you know everything better – as if you weren’t the worst Hokage to ever exist, as if we didn’t have to go to bloody war with a resurrected Uchiha Madara because of you, you despot–”

“Yet you’re the one trying to finish my resurrection technique,” Tobirama replied, smiling. “I wonder what that makes you?”

“I’m not–” she spat. “I’d never create a jutsu that could start a whole ass war!” She knew immediately that she’d told a lie, but it was too late to take back. Sakura’s fury only increased with this realization.

“Bloody – why is this even relevant?” Tobirama hissed, rubbing his abused – and now regenerating – chin. “Can’t we stay on topic for once?”

“Sakura–”

Sakura ignored Itachi again. “Pretty hard to stay on topic when you call your coworkers harlots.”

“For the last time, Haruno, you provoked me. You were trying to get me to snap– and I didn’t call you a harlot!”

“Sakura-san, listen –”

“I only provoked you to expose what you were obviously thinking! You think you’re subtle about your judginess? Well, newsflash! You’re less subtle than a rhinoceros–”

“What judginess? I wasn’t – don’t you realize I have better things to think about than whether you’re promiscuous or not?” Tobirama spat.

“Then why don’t you, huh? Why don’t you fuck off to whatever hole your crawled out of?!”

“You’re the one who summoned me out of my bloody hole!”

“I told you from the start I didn’t want your help!”

“I assure you, I do not spare any–!”

“Damnit Sakura!” Itachi’s voice interrupted whatever Tobirama had been about to say, with Itachi suddenly pushing her to the side and dove for the corpse lying on one of the tables. “Kakashi-san is coming!”

Sakura only just had time to turn to gape at Itachi in horror, matched by both Tobirama and Ino – when the door flew open.

“Yo!”

Kakashi was now poking his head in.

Oh, shit. Sakura turned around slowly, apprehensively, so as to look at Kakashi.

Busted .

“Sakura-chan?” Kakashi asked slowly, when she didn’t say anything.

“I can explain,” she said quickly.

Kakashi blinked. “Explain what?”

Sakura stared at him in confusion. Didn’t he see Tobirama and Itachi standing behind her? The corpse on the examination table? Sakura turned slowly, only to discover Itachi and the corpse were gone, as was Tobirama. Instead, it looked like the nidaime had… hengued into Inuzuka Kiba.

Sakura stared blankly for a moment, unsure how to process all that had just happened.

(Right. Itachi didn’t  have any orders to stay put in the lab, so he could teleport out, and must’ve taken the corpse with him. Tobirama couldn’t leave, so instead, the nidaime had… apparently hengued into Inuzuka Kiba. How did he even know what Kiba looked like? Well, better than looking like himself…)

“Sakura?” Kakashi prompted.

“Oh… hey, Hokage,” Sakura said, attempting to inject some of her usual cheer into her tone. “Long time no see.”

“What were you going to explain to me?” Kakashi asked with a raised brow.

“Uh… nothing. Just… why I…” Sakura quickly tried to come up with something. “Just why I haven’t brought you take out these past couple days.”

“So you do know you’ve been ignoring me,” Kakashi remarked. “How come I find you here, Kiba, Ino?” he addressed Tobirama and Ino.

“Forehead holes herself up in her lab often enough that I had to come down here to make sure she’s still alive,” Ino  threw a dirty look in her general direction.

‘Kiba’ just nodded awkwardly and said: “likewise.”

“What brings you here, Kakashi-sama?” Ino added quickly, before Kakashi could think to question Kiba more at length and notice that he was, in fact, not Kiba.

Kakashi glanced back to Sakura.  “I was missing my dinner buddy.”

“More like your grocery shopping and paying buddy,” Sakura deadpanned, but felt a little mollified on the inside.

Kakashi’s eyes crinkled. “Come on, Sakura-chan. Don’t be like that. Don’t you miss eating non-charred meals?”

She crossed her arms, not wanting to admit that she did. She’d sound like a kid who only ate food that had been cooked by her mummy . That wasn’t… that wasn’t it, so she scowled and said nothing.

Instead of getting offended by her lack of an answer, Kakashi took this chance to look around the lab. The intense smell of preservation chemicals must’ve been bothering him – Sakura only prayed it masked the natural smell of edo tensei resurrections – and the absence of Kiba’s. 

“Mind if I have a look? At your research. I’m curious what’s been keeping you.”

“Er… well, it’s actually quite sensitive,” Sakura hedged.

“I’ll be careful,” Kakashi promised with an eye-crinkle smile.

Shit. She didn’t have any dummy research lying around to lie to Kakashi with.

“There’s nothing much to see–” Sakura insisted.

“Oh? How come?” Kakashi asked, stepping deeper into the lab, peering at a few drawers, then noticing the cracks in the wall Tobirama had just left from slamming into it. “What’s that?”

“I, uh, I punched the wall because I was getting frustrated,” Sakura said meekly.

Kakashi lifted another brow. “And the building is still standing?”

“It was a weak punch,” Sakura said, unable to avoid glancing at Kiba-Tobirama out of the corner of her eye, who was returning her stare incredulously.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure it was…” Kakashi said, and unfortunately, he seemed to have noticed the exchange. “Kiba-kun, you wouldn’t have anything to do with Sakura-chan losing her temper here, would you?”

Tobirama stared back at Kakashi with a blank face that wasn’t very Kiba-like at all. “Unfortunately,  yes. I somehow looked at her in a way that prompted her to punch me.”

“Oh, come on!” she burst out. “You know that’s not it!”

Kakashi’s brows rose. “You looked at her in a way that made her punch you? That must be a record.”

Tobirama was clearly put off by this remark. “Well, I…” he began, then trailed off, apparently not knowing what to say for once. “I’m afraid I was a little out of line as well.”

“A little?” Sakura repeated.

“What exactly were you guys doing in here?” Kakashi asked, perhaps fortunately, or they might have started arguing again.

Unfortunately, he was looking at Tobirama as if expecting an answer from him and not her. He’d have no idea about what to possibly say as an excuse!

“We were…” Tobirama barely hesitated, she had to hand it to the bastard, “we were researching how to enhance my sense of smell, on my request. Being an Inuzuka can be taxing when enemy shinobi employ strong chemical agents in battle, even incapacitating members of my clan at times.” The nidaime said this with a great gravitas which the real  Kiba did not possess, making everyone stare at him, the sight strangely comical. “That is why I requested— Sakura-chan’s assistance and why I am here in her lab.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why this place stinks then?” Kakashi asked with a raised brow. “Because you’re researching the Inuzuka sense of smell?”

Actually, it smells because we have literal corpses in here and the preservation chemicals are quite harsh on the nose. On second thought, that was probably why Tobirama had come up with an excuse that involved using noxious chemicals.  For the first time, she felt some hope Kakashi wouldn’t catch them after all.

“Er, yeah…” Sakura said quickly, grateful for the break. They just might pull the wool over Kakashi’s eyes after all! “It’s all part of the research. We’re testing how to make people with an enhanced sense of smell resistant to the scent of intense chemicals.”

“Ah, I see…” Kakashi said with a nod. “Might come in useful for me, as well.”

“Er, yeah,” Sakura said awkwardly. “We’re still during the first stages of testing, though, so… no promises.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, but that’s good news, isn't it, Sakura-chan?” he said silkily. “If you’re still in the initial stages… then your project doesn’t strike me as being time sensitive.”

Sakura’s blood froze.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat, ne? We've got enough time to get some groceries so I can cook a decent meal.”

Ino was staring at her with raised brows, obviously questioning what the hell was happening. Sakura inched back, not even daring to look in the nidaime’s direction. For sure he was thinking something about her “servicing” the Hokage on her back to earn her privileges or something equally sexist. Bastard.

Why did Kakashi decide to acknowledge the fact that they sometimes cooked dinner together now of all times, in front of the bloody nidaime and Ino? Sure, Shikamaru knew she brought Kakashi takeout, but this was different. Eating with him in his office was impersonal. Takeout was impersonal. Going to Kakashi’s mystery flat which no one knew the location of and getting groceries together and cooking and were not impersonal. Kakashi was so protective of his private sphere… what was he playing at, telling them about any of it?

If Sakura knew anything about the man, then it was that he was always angling for something with everything he did. At least in public. Only when they were alone could she be sure that he had no ulterior motives for acting some way or another.

“Sakura-chan?” Kakashi pressed. “Are you coming? We can get anmiutsu if you like.”

Sakura could feel Ino and Tobirama’s eyes boring into her, full of questions. Damn it. She seriously couldn’t leave now. Not after punching Tobirama into a wall of all times. She couldn’t leave without smoothing things out. Even though she wanted to. So. Badly.

“Uh… really, today isn’t a good time, Kakashi.” She lowered her head to stare at his feet. “I’m too stressed. I’d just end  up stressing you too.” All lies carried a kernel of truth.

“Hm.” Kakashi paused thoughtfully, taking a moment to scratch his shaggy hair beneath the Hokage hat. “Well, I’ve been craving a spar, come to think of it. Spars are great to get rid of stress.” He yanked his Hokage hat off and tossed it into a corner of the lab. “Sakura-chan? Any preference as to the training ground?”

Sakura sighed. “On an empty stomach?”

Cue the eye-crinkle smile. “Ma, ma, Sakura-chan. That was my first lesson for you, ne? Being able to fight on an empty stomach is essential for a ninja worth his salt.”

“Yes, except I’m a seasoned ninja, not  a genin, and I’m not in need of a refresher,” she remarked tartly.

“I think you are.”

Kakashi could be like a dog with a bone when he wanted to be… and it seemed like he’d gotten it into his head that he was catching up with her one way or another today. Sakura glanced uneasily at Tobirama and  Ino, but knew putting up more resistance would only make her seem more suspicious. Glancing down at her (indeed somewhat skimpy) skirt, she sighed.

“I’m not even dressed to train right now, Kakashi!” Sakura lamented. “Never mind spar with you.”

“Mah, Sakura-chan. A good ninja must be able to fight in any clothes. Don’t think these Hokage pyjamas are much better.”

A sputter came from ‘Kiba’ at that – Sakura couldn’t help but snort. “You mean Hokage robes,” she said, trying to hide her grin. Kakashi had unknowingly embarrassed Tobirama and she was so here for it.

“Hokage robes, Hokage pyjamas,” Kakashi trailed off with a shrug. “They’re one and the same. Can’t tell me the designer didn’t have a night gown in mind when he came up with these.”

“The robes were designed to be worn over an armour,”  Tobirama hissed, clearly unable to contain himself. Sakura rolled her eyes. The nidaime was the only male Kage who had never worn the robes or so much as a cape. What was he even getting offended for?

Kakashi merely raised a brow, giving a lazy shrug. “Didn’t know you were so opinionated about Hokage indumentary… Kiba-kun.” After staring down Kiba with frightening intensity for a second, Kakashi glanced back at her. “Well? Are you ready?”

She sighed, shrugging off shishou’s green haori and tugging on her dark leather gloves instead. Now she was left in her black tank top and her black jeans skirt. No doubt Tobirama must be about to have kittens at her ‘harlot’ attire.

“Alright, fine.” She quickly withdrew her combat boots from a scroll and put them on. “But we’re going to training ground fifty eight.”

“Not the one with the boulders,” Kakashi moaned.

“Yes. That one.” Sakura turned to smile flintily at him – then more awkwardly at Ino, avoiding Tobirama entirely. “A good ninja must be able to dodge flying boulders.”

“Sakura-chan.”

“And earthquakes.”

“Sakura-chan, please.”

“You pick the day, I pick the training ground, Kakashi.” Sakura turned to wave merrily at Ino. “See you guys tomorrow.”

“Mah, they’re staying in here?” Kakashi cut in. “Don’t you need to lock the lab, Sakura?”

Oh, right. Damn it, Kakashi was sharp.

“R-right, silly me,” Sakura said quickly. “Ino, Kiba.” Damn it. She needed to undo her order to Tobirama not to leave the lab… and without arousing Kakashi’s suspicions, too.

Damn damn damn…

“…you two feel free to leave for now and come back tomorrow,” she said, hoping it didn't sound too much like an order to Kakashi.

Obviously, Tobirama was thrilled at the chance to finally leave the  lab. With one wave at them, he made a handsign and disappeared with a pop. Ino was only marginally slower to leave.

“Great.” Kakashi patted her shoulder. “Now, Sakura-chan. Shall we?”

Sakura shifted nervously and nodded, but as they began to make their way to the training ground, her mind kept whirring with worry. Kakashi had the worst timing in history. She’d just punched the nidaime into a wall and now his appearance had forced her to unleash the man on Konoha, without any additional orders not to reveal himself.

Considering how petty he could be, who knew what that man would get up to now that he was as good as free. She needed to finish the spar as quickly as possible in order to go find Tobirama and do damage control.

Damn it. She hadn’t sparred in a while, and less so against Kakashi, who on top of being a genius just loved to tease her by drawing their fights out. She’d really have to put in an effort if she wanted to finish quickly today.

Itachi, please hold Tobirama off until I finish… Sakura prayed. There was no telling what he’d do now that he was good as free. But her first idea was that he’d set fire to her house and her second that he’d flood the ruins of the Uchiha district, so it definitely wasn’t looking good.

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Once outside the lab, just before Tobirama could follow Haruno to the training ground, Yamanaka stopped him by grabbing his arm.

“What?” he’d asked, doubly irritated because he disliked to be touched, and because he’d been in a hurry to follow Haruno.

“Wait – before you go,” the blonde pleaded. “Don’t be mad at Sakura.”

“We’ve done this song and dance before, Yamanaka,” he had observed. “What, are you going to shower me with more memories of Haruno’s sob story?”

There had been  no need to let Yamanaka know that they had had any effect last time.

“Well, if I thought it would help. I’m desperate at this point. I just want her to survive this project. It was my fault, you know?” Yamanaka had trailed  off, looking away. “I’m the one who begged Sakura to bring my dad back. That was when she started working on this.”

Tobirama’s eyebrow had arched. “Oh? You’re the great mastermind then?”

“Hardly.” Ino had sighed. “I was drunk as a skunk. Barely remember that night – just, the aftermath. You know?”

Tobirama had shaken his head because, no, he didn’t know, but at the same time... Something Yamanaka had said had sparked his curiosity. She would be willing to show him even more of Haruno’s childhood memories?

He knew he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But then again, she shouldn’t have desecrated his grave and yet here they were.

“I might show some leniency towards her if you show me something else about Haruno’s past,” he said carefully. Yamanaka’s eyes had widened. He had known he’d caught her attention. “Maybe that project with the biohazard?”

Yamanaka had scoffed. “I’ve told you. That’s a village secret. No way.”

Tobirama had asked for that first because he knew it made her more likely to agree to whatever he said next. “Then, perhaps something else? A memory that doesn’t paint Haruno as her saintly self, please. I want to see the truth of her, not some cherry-picked anecdotes that paint her as a victim.”

Yamanaka had bitten her lip and looked at him calculatingly. He had merely stared back, meeting  her gaze squarely.

“Fine,” she had said at last. “I will show you something else.”

“Oh?”

Yamanaka formed those same handsigns he remembered again, and then they were inside of her mind again.  

A myriad of squawking children all eating cake and cheering as a tiny Ino unwrapped presents assaulted Tobirama’s senses. The blonde was visibly  especially excited, chattering a mile a minute, squealing at each gift, and honest to god began bouncing in her seat as a tiny Sakura handed over a gift of her own. 

Ah,  right, Tobirama placed this memory as where they’d left off last time – Sakura was miraculously present for Ino’s birthday party.

No wonder Ino was excited about unwrapping Sakura’s present… if he recalled, getting Haruno’s parents to let her attend had taken all the maneuvering and finesse of the Yamanaka clan head.

Tobirama watched on passively, but became surprised despite himself, when upon opening Sakura’s gift, Ino’s expression dropped. 

Tobirama didn’t know what was wrong with the purple dress she had pulled out of the wrapper – it was the only colour the blasted woman would wear even as an adult – but something clearly was as Yamanaka bit her lip and gave a fake smile, attempting to act brave. Tobirama also noticed that Sakura wouldn’t even look her in the eye after she opened the gift and wondered.

He found out what the problem was soon enough, for Ino wasted no time in running to her mother as soon as the woman was alone in the kitchen.

“Mum, Sakura got me a dress I saw in her closet,” the girl began, clutching the purple satin with a helpless sort of expression. “What do I do? Should I tell her I know it’s a fake gift?”

Yamanaka’a mother frowned and leaned down to hug her daughter. “Oh, Ino-chan, don’t be upset. You know how hard it was to get her parents  to let her attend.”

“But she’s rich, mum! She has so many dresses in her closet, and she never even wears them! Why can’t she buy me one, if she already owns so many? Why did she have to give me a used one?”

Ah. So it was not a present. 

“But it’s such a nice dress,” her mother insisted.

“Yes, and it’s one of the dresses I said to her that  I liked most,” Ino muttered,  “but… now I really don’t like it.”

As she clutched that purple dress, Ino noticed Sakura’s mom glaring at her from the crowd, then looking at the dress. Her expression was…

Ino got an uneasy feeling jist from that face she was making. Should she give the dress back?

Sakura-chan… what is going on?

The feeling intensified when, after gleeful hours spent playing Capture the Flag in the Yamanaka gardens, the birthday attendees retired back into the house to play with the  new toys everyone had bought for Ino. At this point, Kiba managed to spill soda on the couch, so Ino went to the dining room to tell her mom  it needed to be cleaned. She knew that waiting only made the stains harder to get out.

Sakura’s  mom was sitting right next to her parents – at the spot of honor – and Ino was pleased they seemed to be getting along, everyone smiling prettily at everyone. Sakura's dad wasn’t there.

Maybe Sakura’s mom would let Sakura-chan come to her house on playdates now! Sakura’s mum had a bunch of sake glasses next to her and kept knocking them down like that Anko woman did… Ino looked away quickly and tugged at her mom’s skirt.

“Mom,” Ino said quietly. The adults all glanced at her.

“Yes, Ino-chan?” 

“The couch has a stain.”

“Oh, something got spilled? What was the liquid?”  Mom asked with a frown.

“It was the grape soda.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Was it Sakura?” Sakura’s mother asked out of nowhere. “I swear…! That girl is so clumsy. Always spoiling things… spilling drinks… dropping everything. I knew–”

“It was Kiba!” Ino interrupted, frowning at Sakura’s mother, then staring at her shoes. “Kiba spilled the soda!”

“Oh, shit! We’ll cover it!” came the voice of Kiba’s mom. “So sorry, Iwase-san, that boy’s a terror.”

“Ah, it’s all right, Tsume-san!”

“You sure it wasn’t Sakura?” Sakura’s mom interrupted.  

“No!” Ino snapped, glaring at the stupid woman. “Why would you even say that? Sakura isn’t clumsy.”

The woman gave Ino a funny look and turned away.

“Well, whoever spilled it, there’s  no need to make a big deal about it,” dad interfered placatingly. “Please don’t concern yourself with anything, Haruno-san.”

When Ino returned to her friends, Sakura had just started to ask why she looked upset when Ino quickly interrupted her to suggest they play Sleep Town Sleep since it was getting too cold to play outside . The general idea of the game was that all the players would sit in a circle and one person, who didn’t play, would act as a narrator. The narrator would appoint roles: a ninja, a medic, a police officer, a spy and so on, but since he didn’t play, no one really wanted to do be narrator. As usual, Sakura ended up offering to take on the job, just like she’d offered to be the tree number two at the school theater play each year.

“Town, Sleep,” Sakura commanded shyly, all of them closing their eyes. “No peeking!” she added. “Unless you’re the spy, of course.”

The children all fidgeted, waiting for her next instruction.

And then it came. “Ninja, wake up. Ninja, pick your next victim,” Sakura declared. Whoever was the ninja this round presumably pointed out his next target. “Ninja, sleep,” Sakura said. Ino’s stomach squirmed, she wondered uneasily if she had been picked a victim. “Medic, wake up,” Sakura went on. “Medic, you may choose to heal or kill someone. Give me one wink to heal, two to kill. Okay. Medic, sleep. Town, wake up.”

Everyone opened their eyes and stared at Sakura, who dramatically got to her feet and walked around their circle. “Today… a bloody corpse was found in the town square… ir was so mauled, that you couldn’t even make out who it was.” Everyone gasped. “But that’s what DNA testing is for.”

“What’s that?” Naruto interrupted.

“Shut up!” everyone yelled at once.

“Who is it? Who is it?” Kiba asked anxiously.

“Well…” trailed off Sakura, “after running tests on the teeth, it turned out to be… Ino’s!”

Ino gasped loudly as everyone turned to look at her.

“Townsfolk, you may decide who the murderer is,” Sakura allowed solemnly.

“Well, I think it’s Shikamaru again!” Kiba burst out.

“I just got picked as the ninja. Sakura wouldn’t pick me again,” Shikamaru argued. “I think it’s Choji this time.”

“No way! Choji wouldn’t have decided to kill Ino so early on!” Naruto yelled loudly. Everyone rolled their eyes.

“Why not? Ino figured out it was me last time,” Shikamaru complained.

“Sakura could have picked you again to trick us,” Sasuke pointed out.

Ino tuned out her friends’ argument, knowing she was eliminated now and couldn’t add her two cents into the conversation anyway. Maybe that was why she chose to listen to the adults’ conversation instead, who were all sitting at the table on the other side of the room.

 “What did your daughter do to get them to settle down like this?” Shika’s mom asked Sakura’s with amazement. “They’re so behaved, I don’t know what dark magic this is, Haruno-san!”

“True!” chimed in Choji’s mom. “Just look at them, they’re just sitting there on the floor talking ? Are these really the rowdiest batch of kids to set foot in the Academy?”

“I’m still convinced Mizuki-sensei was exaggerating when he said that. But it’s true, they’re so well-behaved today.”

“What are they even playing?” asked Hinata’s dad with a frown, staring at their circle in confusion. “Peek a boo?”

“Perhaps it’s a civilian game, eh Haruno-san?” Dad asked, smiling at Sakura’s mom. “Sakura-chan seems to be elbow deep in it.”

“Yeah, your brat seems to be directing it,” Kiba’s mom noted.

“She does.” Sakura’s mother finally glanced at the children, having finished with her nth sake cup. “Sakura!” she called. “Stop hogging the conversation. Let the other children have a turn too.”

Everyone looked at Sakura’s mom, Sakura lowering her head. For a moment, no one said anything, then Naruro shrugged and went back to accusing Shikamaru.

Ino was still staring at the parents though. Sakura’s mom was laughing at something now, and saying: “Well, Hiashi-san, it’s a deeply-rooted flaw of hers. Ask the girl for the time and she’ll explain how a grandfather clock works.”

Some of the parents chuckled at the joke. Ino felt sick to the stomach.

“Well, I’d be very interested in knowing how a grandfather clock works, actually.” Dad said. He wasn’t laughing.

Sakura’s mother looked at him sharply. “You didn’t understand me, Yamanaka-san,” her features twitched oddly.

 “Ino’s mentioned Sakura is top of her class in academics,” Mom noted with a smile. “It’s a wonderful trait to be curious about the world.”

Sakura’s mother frowned in Sakura’s direction. “It is, I agree. But only if one is curious about the right things.”

“The right things?” challenged dad, voice low. “I find the mechanism of a clock interesting enough that I’d be proud if my child could tell me about it.”

“Heh.” Sakura's mom took a drag of her cig and then knocked the stubs against an empty glass. “That would be fine if she were a little more ladylike. God’s sake. She can be such a duck sometimes.”

Awkward chuckles.

“Aren’t they all our little ducklings?” Kiba’s mother offered.

“Most definitely,” said Shino’s mom, deviating the conversation, “but that is why we educate them, no? I on my part think that bugs are cuter, but…”

Ino turned away from the parents and back to what her friends were doing – still discussing ardently whether Choji was the ninja or not, Hinata, who had also been invited this year, claiming she was the spy and had seen Choji point at Ino maliciously.

Ino glanced at Sakura to gauge her expression, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention to the discussion either, staring at her knees. Her eyes were empty and so, so sad. It landed straight through Ino’s heart and broke it into pieces. She knew immediately that Sakura had heard the duck comment. She also knew that she would never forget that expression on her face.

Ask the girl for the time and she’ll explain how a grandfather clock works.

She can be such a duck sometimes.

Ino glanced back at Sakura with big eyes.

As the years went on, she and her parents  had started to worry about Sakura. They’d  discussed the topic of her at length, Ino’s mom and dad patiently listening to Ino’s occasional rants when Sakura did something strange again – like owning only one doll that was missing its head, or begging  down whenever she was invited to birthday parties. Ino’s was still the only birthday party she’d attended, for the first time at age ten, and that because of the pressure her parents had exerted on the Haruno’s.

Yes, there had been something off about Sakura, and her lies that she had bunny slippers when she didn’t, and the fact that she’d never tried jelly pudding, or that she could never buy a proper present for Ino. The Yamanakas’ interest in psychology was universally known. They sought to understand the psyche of those around them, their knowledge of people’s innermost thoughts unparalleled – even the youngest child was like that. Ino had been no exception, her father’s daughter in every way, many said.

Dad had been like that too, he had loved to muse on end about people. No one had been uninteresting to him, even children. Dad had loved to listen to Ino’s stories about school back when he was alive. He’d liked them all… but he had used to wonder about Sakura’s behavior more than the others. After the incident with the choir, and especially  after Sakura’s first birthday party, when Sakura’s mother had made those horrible comments, her dad had started asking questions about Sakura. The questions had been gentle probes at first, but as Ino got older, they’d gotten more direct.

“Would you say Sakura-chan has a keen sense of people’s emotions? As in, is she very attuned to and perceptive of what other people are feeling?”

“Uh, I guess so,” Ino had reflected, thinking of how Sakura seemed to have a sixth sense for when someone wanted to manipulate her or was lying.

“Is she scared of authority figures?”

Ino frowned. “Like the sensei? I don’t know. I guess she always acts respectful.” Sakura herself had told her that she only respected people for their actions, not their titles, but it was true that she treated authority figures with loads of respect, at least to their face.

Her dad was nodding along as though he’d already expected that answer. “Does she act fearful often? Is it easy to  startle her?”

“Well, Naruto makes her nervous because he’s so loud and he moves around so abruptly. Sakura-chan hates loud noises and sudden movements… But I mean, Naruto is annoying to everybody.”

Her dad was still nodding. “Is it difficult for her to ask for a personal favor? Like, say, borrowing someone’s homework?”

Ino reflected on that. Sakura had never asked her for anything in their long years of frienship, though Ino had always thought that that had more to do with the fact that she never needed anything. “Well… she’s so smart, I don’t think she’d ever need to borrow homework from anybody.”

“But she’s a civilian-born. Perhaps she struggles with the kata?”

Ino frowned thoughtfully. “I do correct her on those! But come to think of it, you’re right, she never asks me for tips. Huh.”

“Hm. Would you describe her as  too clingy?”

“Nope. Well… she is a bit clingy sometimes…” Ino said, “But that’s ‘cause I’m her only friend! But not clingy in the sense of wants to spend time together all the time. She doesn’t even stick around to play after school!”

“And Ino-chan, does she act overly thankful if someone does anything kind for her, or too humble – is she usually unable to take a compliment? Overly apologetic?”

“I…” she’d stammered. How did he know her so well?

Shortly after Ino had turned eleven, Sakura had broken up their friendship. Officially, it was over Sasuke-kun, but Ino’s parents didn’t buy it. That was when the questions got more probing, more insistent.

It hurt now, to talk about Sakura when they were so bitterly angry at each other, in the different teams and with different jonin sensei, but… talk they did.

When it was time to choose a role for our annual play during their last school year, no one wanted to be the tree again, especially because it was the last play before finishing the Academy. Most people in class thought they were all that and a bag of chips for making it to sixth year… so there was a huge fight over who could star as the main character in the play… and of course Ino won it. The fight was even more embittered when it came to deciding who would get to be the worst roles. The class was smaller that year, so there were only two completely bad roles, but it was like that only made everyone want them even less.

“I take it Sakura offered to be the tree again?” dad asked with a sigh when Ino recounted the incident over dinner.

“But dear, Sakura-chan seems to be trying to avoid those kinds of positions now.”

“She’s not the tree this year?” asked her father in amusement. 

“No. But that was only because of luck” Ino snapped, annoyed despite herself. Since the argument, Sakura had become the least popular girl in their class (except if you asked love struck idiots like Naruto of course). She was popular among the guys, sure, but every girl shunned her like crazy, and she was always alone during break, usually studying. Sometimes she’d mix it up by attempting to talk to Sasuke or by rebuffing Naruto for longer than was strictly necessary. No, Sakura was in no position to be anything other than the tree in their theater play.

At least she didn't volunteer for the role right out of the gate, like she’d have done in the past. Sakura was stronger now, and Ino had resented that. She’d mocked her in front of the whole class for getting stuck as a tree  – calling her a fugly fern, among other things — something which had been overheard by Iruka-sensei, who, in all his wisdom, had chosen to punish Ino by declaring she and Sakura would swap roles.

“Who's the fugly fern now, Pig?”

Needless to say, Ino had been furious, but not as much as everyone else thought. 

Even after graduation, her parents kept asking about Sakura. Especially after all the messes Team 7 got into… they continued to care.

“And tell me, does she take offense too easily and feel ashamed over criticisms other ‘normal’ kids wouldn’t  take personally?”  

“Does she easily feel humiliated, do you think?”

“Is she insecure about where she stands with other people?”

“Is she used to being treated like an object?”

“Inoichi!”

“It’s just a question, Iwase!”

“Does she seek validation? Does she please people to avoid getting on their bad side? Is she prone to anxiety? Does she get bullied easily?”

“Does she have a low self esteem?”

“No. Not anymore. At least, not outwardly.”

“So  she still avoids confrontation then?” 

“No. She no longer avoids it that much, but when it’s not with me or Naruto… she’s stealthy about it.” 

“Meaning?”

Ino just shrugged. “She throws the stone, then hides her hand.”

“Oh?” her mother asked. “But I thought you said that your favorite trait  was how  honest Sakura was?”

“She is honest, in general,”  Ino admitted. “She doesn’t hide her opinions of people, or gossip or anything… I don’t mean that. I mean that she likes throwing litteral stones, or kunai, or whatever it is, and then hiding. She prefers to fight her battles from the shadows, but she does fight them, now, and bitterly. But. If she can  avoid direct confrontation, she will.”

Ino remembered the endless questions her dad had asked her about Sakura – especially after their argument when they were eleven. She remembered them all, if not her exact answers to them. Except that one. The question that had led to her spilling the beans…

“What makes you say all of this? When has she done such a thing?”

Ino nit her lip guiltily, but both her parents were staring at her, and you couldn’t lie to a Yamanaka. And especially not them. 

“Well… there was the time with Creep–sensei,” she admitted thinly, immediately feeling like she was betraying Sakura’s trust.

But she’s the one who abandoned me… It doesn’t matter anymore.

Her parents' expressions darkened.

“Sakura-chan was involved in that nasty business?” mom asked. “I thought it was your and Naruto’s doing that he got caught?”

“Well…” Ino dithered, thinking back to the  meeting about Creep-sensei two years ago, when she’d still been an Academy student. Sakura had asked her to call the meeting, and Ino had been appointed the fifth year girls’ spokesperson so that they’d approach the boys and the girls from other classes about needing to deal with Creep-sensei.

Ino remembered when Sakura had first brought up the problem. That image of her sitting on top of the monkey bars was branded into her memory, Sakura’s legs dangling, skinned knees on display as she peered down at Ino. Her fingers had been playing with a marble, Ino remembered. Tenten, back then a sixth year, was sitting next to her, chewing on one of her bobby pins again. Ino had gotten caught up in her class president duties again, so she had missed some of recess.

Irritatingly, the stupid Tenten girl was taking advantage of Ino’s occasional absences to try and steal Sakura for herself. The second Ino had arrived, Sakura and Tenten fell silent.

Were they gossiping about me?

Ino plastered a smile on her face. “Hey, Sakura-chan! What are you up to?” She pointedly didn’t greet Tenten.

“Ino…” Sakura peered down at her from on top of the monkey bars, idly rolling the marble over her digits. “We were just talking…”

“About?” Ino asked, unable to control herself.

Tenten looked at Sakura warningly, but Sakura ignored the look.

“We were saying…” Sakura’s voice went cold. “We were just talking about how Creep-sensei needs to go.”

Ino remembered that incident crystal clear even twenty years later. She remembered how all of them – the  fifth year girls –  had for once gotten over their quarrels with each other – with even Ami agreeing to a truce.

Ino recalled becoming the spokesperson of the Anti-Creep-sensei movement that had ensued. When all the fifth year girls had been summoned to the monkey bars after school, Hinata, Tenten and Ino spread the news about the meeting to everyone. Sakura had said Ino should be the spokesperson, and so she had been the one sitting at the top of the monkey bars that day, looking down at them as she delivered a fulminating speech against Creep-sensei. 

Sakura had been seated primly on the sand below, watching her from between Tenten and Hinata. Hinata’s sister, Hanabi, had been there too, having marshaled some of her fourth year classmates. Even a lot of the sixth year girls Tenten knew had attended the meeting, and some of the boys in their year, as well as Hinata’s cousin, Neji. He was the only sixth-year-boy who’d shown up, and no one knew why. Not that many boys had attended, though from the fifth years, there were still more than Ino would have expected.

Naruto, who was always nosy where Sakura was concerned, had gotten  wind of their plot to get Creep-sensei fired even before the meeting and had unceremoniously barged in on them, saying he wanted the sensei gone too. He’d arrived late to the Great Meeting because of a detention, but then he’d sandwiched himself between Hinata and Sakura in the middle of Ino’s speech anyway, much to Hinata’s delight. Choji and Shika had remained behind after school to attend the reunion too, supportive of Ino as ever, clapping in all the appropriate moments and nodding as Ino kept talking. Shino and Kiba had come with Hinata the Aburame and Inuzuka being vassal clans to the Hyuga and had taken a seat behind Hinata and Naruto. Even Sasuke had shown up, Sakura and Naruto having persuaded him, apparently. He was leaning against a tree, brooding as usual, but still watching Ino's speech from a distance.

Encouraged by her crush watching, as well as so many of her friends, Ino had given it her all, firing them up to the best of her ability. “Creep-sensei is a weirdo, and we don’t deserve having to put up with his creepiness!” she’d yelled, raising her hand.

Everyone had cheered loudly, fist pumping the air too.

“Today’s the last time he makes a girl stay behind after his class!”

More cheering.

“I say we make him pay for his creepiness until he gets the hint and leaves us alone!”

This was followed by the loudest cheer yet, with hoots from Naruto.

Ino had then told them about the plan – and so, the Anti-Creep alliance was formed. The whole school – and in particular the fifth years – had waged war on the man for weeks, refusing to participate in his class, not turning in any of their homework, leaving tests blank, and pranking him whenever they could. Things had come to a head when Ino and Naruto had gotten caught sneaking snakes into Creep-sensei’s outdoor shoes in the teacher’s lounge.

The matter had gone to the principal at this point – and then Ino’s parents had been called into the man’s office, and then Ino had told them about Creep-sensei’s creepiness, with examples, and there had been a huge scandal. Her mom and dad had  rallied all the other parents, and jointly the Anti-Creep parent and student alliances had rained hell down on the principal to get rid of Creep-sensei.

Sakura’s name had never come up during the whole ordeal.

“I guess you could say Sakura-chan has a strong sense of justice…” Ino remembered she’d told her dad when the topic had come up during that discussion, two years after it had all gone down – but in her head, she hadn’t been sure. If stealing somebody’s diary and falsifying an entry to incriminate them can be called a sense of justice… then I guess Sakura has a pretty big sense of justice.

To this day, Ino still wasn’t sure what Sakura had written in that diary that had alarmed the adults so much. Certainly Creep-sensei had earned his title: he had scared all the girls, even if they couldn’t explain why at that age, he had asked some of them to stay behind after class… and there had been rumors… even if no one had stepped forward to outright accuse him of sexual assault. There had been no evidence; mind-altering genjutsu didn’t leave any, and so no girls prepared to testify. Nothing could have been proven against him if Sakura hadn’t falsified that diary entry.

Without proof, he wouldn’t have been hauled into T&I for questioning and the truth wouldn’t have come out. Still, what Sakura had done… if their sensei had been innocent, she could’ve easily destroyed his whole career based on just rumors. She had destroyed his career. Certainly, Sakura had always had a ‘strong sense of justice’.

But could that be called just? Or was it something darker?

Her dad had been fascinated with the full story.

“So Sakura-chan planted that diary entry? Your sensei could’ve been innocent for all we knew before I took him in for questioning?” he’d demanded in shock. “But I read that diary myself…”

Ino hadn’t been allowed to read the diary entry that had been found at the time, the one Sakura had written – Sakura had said she’d forgotten what she’d written in it. Twenty-two years later, Ino would’ve really liked to know, out of a morbid sense of curiosity, what Sakura had come up with, what she had written in that note to incriminate Creep-sensei so badly, what was it that an eleven-year old Sakura could have cooked up that was so damning. Perhaps an adult had helped her write the note. Perhaps not. Sakura had always been nothing if not close-lipped about such matters.

Ino supposed if she had been in her dad’s shoes, she wouldn’t have believed an eleven-year-old girl capable of falsifying something like that either. But she wasn’t crazy: it had happened. Sakura had done it. Ino had been a party to it, had helped Sakura break into the man’s office, had looked through his things with her, had been the one who found the diary in Creep-sensei’s book bag, had watched as Sakura pulled out a previously written draft – already in the sensei’s handwriting –  had shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Sakura copied the note into the diary.

“Sakura-chan, what are you doing? We only said we were gonna look for something suspicious,” Ino urged.

Naruto, who had helped them break into Creep-sensei’s office, sat on the cardboard box he’d brought and watched Sakura-chan write something in sensei’s diary.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto whined. “Can I release the snakes now?”

“Not yet, Naruto,” Sakura said, licking her lip in concentration. Ino remembered what she’d looked like, sitting behind sensei’s desk as she penned in what would become his ticket to the torture division.

Naruto blew a raspberry. “Do we know for sure that that weird Hinata girl can keep watch without messing up, Sakura-chan? If we get caught in here we’re gonna be so dead…”

“Shh,” was all Sakura said.

Hinata had been left standing watch outside the door. They’d purposefully made her skin her knee so she could have an excuse for having gone to a teacher’s office in the middle of recess, if seen. The code phrase should a teacher arrive was ‘my knee hurts’.

“Sakura, are you done yet?” Ino asked anstily. “What are you even writing in there?”

“Not yet, Ino.”

Suddenly, a pebble hit the office window and they all turned to look at it. Sasuke was perched on the tree outside.

Naruto ran over and opened the window. “What are you doing, teme? You’re going to get us caught!” he hissed. “Get off that tree!”

“You are about to get caught, idiot,” Sasuke replied with a sneer. “The teacher already broke up the fight that sixth year started outside. You’ve got a minute till he reaches you., tops”

Then, Sasuke started to climb down the tree without another word. Naruto turned and closed the window, his eyes full of alarm as he rounded back on Sakura.

“Sakura-chan, we need to leave now!” he exclaimed. “The teacher’s headed towards us!”

“I hate to agree with Naruto on anything, but we’re going to be in so much trouble if we get caught,” Ino said anciously. “Sakura. Please! Just leave the diary as it is!”

Sakura had already written two full pages and was still adding more, carefully penning whatever it was in with sensei’s exact handwriting, compiled through corrected tests and essays.

“I need to finish this,” Sakura gritted out.

“But–!”

“Naruto, the adders.” Sakura glanced up from the diary. “Release them in the teacher’s lounge. Go,  buy me some time.”

“What? But the sensei will kill me if I release snakes in there!”

“It’s just a prank, Naruto. They’ll kill you much worse if they find out what we’re doing in here.”

Naruto hesitated, looking at Ino for help.

“Now, Naruto ,” Sakura snapped, drawing his gaze back to her.

Naruto nodded and quickly picked up the cardboard box, running out of the room. Ino glanced after him uncertainly.

“Go with him, Ino,” Sakura urged.

“But, if you get caught–!”

“You’re a better liar than Naruto. Go.”

“How much time do you need?” Ino asked.

“Another five minutes.”

“ Five minutes? You’ll never make it!”

“Ino, please. I’m begging you. Buy me five minutes.”

Only Ino and Naruto knew about what had really happened in that office, about the faked diary entry. Only Ino and Naruto knew why Ino had called one of her favorite teachers a ‘tart’ to her face, and why Hinata had let one of the snakes bite her. Only Ino and Naruto knew why Sakura had been found with a serious injury in the girl’s bathroom all the way on the other side of the school few minutes later.

Her dad certainly hadn’t believed the story at first, asking question after question about the incident. Mostly about Sakura.

“–for the last time, dad, I don’t know if someone wrote the draft for her–”

“I don’t know! She said she noticed one of the teachers was about to look in her direction as she was climbing down from the office window, so she pulled herself up to the rooftop instead, where the sensei wouldn’t see her, then  jumped off on the other side of the building.”

“She jumped off the rooftop.”

“I guess Sakura really didn’t want to get caught. She’d do anything to avoid being caught misbehaving by  a teacher.”

“But she jumped off the roof?”

“Yeah, someone had left the window of the girl’s bathroom open on the first floor, so I think she was aiming for the window ledge. Apparently, the shoulder  got wrenched out of its socket when she held onto it, and then she broke her other arm somehow. That’s why she was crying when some other kids found her lying on the bathroom floor after recess let out.”

Dad had seemed shell shocked at the story, asking more questions about Sakura, then eventually moving on to the other children involved, and if any of them knew the note had been faked. “And Hinata participated too?” he’d demanded. “I thought you said she isn’t even in your friend group, and that she’s scared of breaking any rules..”

“Yes, dad, but we all hated creep-sensei! He made Hinata-chan stay behind after class more than anyone else! I think Hinata-chan really wanted to see him go down,” Ino had explained. “Why else would she have offered to help us by standing watch with her byakugan?”

“So you kids staged an honest to god ninja operation, hm?” dad asked proudly.

“Inoichi, don’t encourage her!”

Ino preened, glad to read in his face that he wasn’t mad. “Yes. Sorry I didn’t tell you before, dad. We all made a pact that we would keep it a secret. But I guess it’s a moot point… since Sakura and I got into our fight. And since we’ve already graduated the Academy… they can’t really kick us out of school anymore.”

“How interesting a person your Sakura-chan is,” dad had remarked. “She’s going to be a fine ninja when she grows up. Who else was involved in this diary forgery, hm?”

“Well, I brought Shika and Choji in, but Choji didn’t want anything to do with it,” Ino explained. “Shika was the one who had the idea of breaking into Creep-sensei’s office to see if we found anything incriminating. He’s also the one who suggested we recruit stinky Naruto because Naruto has the most experience breaking into the teacher’s lounge. I think that's part of the reason why Hinata approached us about helping too – she spies on everybody, and she has a crush on Naruto. With Hinata offering to help, Kiba and Shino got involved too.”

“Oh, my. That’s a lot of people.” Mom remarked. “And here we all thought it was just you and Naruto who broke in!”

“Well, you thought that because Naruto and I were the only ones who got caught in the teacher’s lounge!” Ino exclaimed. “But we only got caught because Sakura was still writing the note when Sasuke of all people gave the signal that a sensei was coming, so Naruto, Hinata and I left Creep-sensei’s office and went into the teacher’s lounge next door, making lots of noise, and drawing the sensei to us. After we were caught, one of the sensei started hitting Naruto, and that’s when Hinata let one of the snakes bite her on purpose to divert the sensei’s attention from Naruto.”

“And while all of this was going on, Sakura escaped through the window and jumped off the roof,” her dad clarified.

“Yeah. She had to do that because Tenten screwed up with the distraction maneuver. She was supposed to fake picking a fight with Kiba and Shino to draw the teachers outside, until the end of recess” Ino had explained, “But the teachers broke it up before we the bell rang, so Sakura would’ve gotten caught if she’d just climbed down the tree.”

“Fascinating.” Her dad shook his head in disbelief.

That day, with the Creep-sensei incident, had been Sakura’s eleventh birthday. After Ino and Naruto were caught, they were escorted to the room next to the principal’s office and told to wait while the adult’s argued inside. Shortly after, Sakura joined them, as some older students had found her in the bathroom and escorted her to the office due to her injuries (as all other teachers were either there on or in class). A secretary bustled over and offered to phone Sakura’s parents so they could come pick her up and take her to the hospital.

“You have a landline?” Ino asked jealously. It was the hottest new thing, but very few people could afford one. Also, ninja didn’t use telephones due to safety issues.

“Yes,” said Sakura blandly and then told the woman her number. They listened as the secretary informed Sakura’s mom that her daughter had a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder and please come pick her up as soon as possible, ma’am, the poor dear is looking a little pale.

Pause.

“ No, not a fight. Just an accident.”

Pause.

“ Yes, she can wait a little… I suppose...”

Pause.

“Well, it would be preferable if she was treated soon, even if if medical ninjutsu would allow for a delay…”

Finally, the secretary hung up. 

“Hang in there right, sweetie. Your mom will come as soon as possible.”

Sakura gave her the expression she reserved for teachers who baby-talked her – though Sakura said they ‘patronised’ her,  (Ino wouldn’t learn the word till later.)

“Can I wait with Ino?” she asked. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down, dear?”

“I broke my arm, not my leg,” Sakura replied. The fact that she was being sarcastic to an adult was a big indication that something was wrong, though the secretary didn’t seem to see it that way, instead clucking in affront.

“Well, far be it for me to forbid you from standing against the corner, as those other two troublemakers. Go on, join them if you want.”

Thus, Sakura walked over to Ino and Naruto and stood with them in front of the principal’s door. Time passed.

Naruto spent most of it complaining that it wasn’t fair Hinata had been allowed to leave. Ino lectured him about not being selfish. Sakura stared through a crack in the door  and into the room, even though the only thing visible was the back of some boring old man.

By the time they’d been waiting for an hour, even the Hokage had shown up, with the old man Sakura kept staring at in tow, time was ticking and the whole while Sakura just stood there with her dangling arms.

Finally, someone seemed to remember the existence of the three children. It was the old man.

Tobirama felt he was familiar, but couldn’t place him.

The old man walked over to the door, as if to shut it (possibly unnerved at the child continuously staring at him) but then seemed to decide to address them instead. 

“And what are you three doing here?” he asked.

Ino pipped up that they were waiting to be punished for being defenders of the school. Naruto made a farting noise. Sakura just stared.

The old man apparently had noticed how Sakura kept staring at him (she did that sometimes, when she was analyzing something. It could get a bit intense.), so he nodded at her. “Was she involved too? Why is her arm broken?”

Sakura shook her head. “I slipped in the bathroom, sir.”

“They need to clean them better!” Ino agreed convincingly, backing up Sakura’s lie.

The old man stared at them through narrowed eyes. He frowned, then went up to the secretary. 

Ino could hear a hushed conversation–

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Did no one call her parents?”

“Her mother was called, sir.”

“When?”

“An hour ago.”

“And her father?”

More mumbling. 

“Fuck’s sake…”

“….”

“What do they even pay you for? …don’t have a sodding ice pack?…”

“….”

“…common sense…”

“…bloody civilians...”

Eventually, the old man came out of the secretary’s office, an ice pack in one hand and his cane in the other. 

“Have they called your father?” he addressed Sakura irritably, as if she had personally offended him by existing.

“He isn’t available,” Sakura replied, this time acting meek.  

The old man clicked his tongue again in evident irritation. “If your father is at his job,” he said in a long-suffering tone, “we can easily track him down.”

“He’s not.”

“Where is he then?”

“Out.”

The old man looked pissed at this point. “Out where ?”

“Buying cigarettes,” Sakura said with a shrug, then looked off to the side.

Ino noticed the old man’s eyes widening. She somehow knew something significant had been said, but had no idea what.  

“How would you know what your dad is doing right now? Not even the old man Hokage could know that, believe it!” Naruto butted in.

Sakura gave another shrug. She turned back to the old man, expectant.

The old man looked uncomfortable.

“…Well.” He eyed Sakura’s arm again and handed over the ice pack. “Pain is nothing to a shinobi. You will wait here.”

Sakura accepted the ice pack with a nod and held it to her arm, even as her bad shoulder made her wince.

The old man cast them a glance and walked off.

Eventually, Ino took over holding Sakura’s ice pack because the action alone visibly hurt her. Another forty minutes passed and still Sakura’s mother wasn’t anywhere in sight. The old man kept glancing back at them every once in a while through the crack in the door, and eventually seemed to lose his patience. 

He came out again, gesturing at Ino.

“You. Escort her to the hospital and then come back. We still have to decide your punishment.”

“Yes, sir,” Ino said with relief.

Both girls gratefully scurried away, leaving a pouting Naruto behind.

And so Sakura’s last birthday before she had ended their friendship was spent in the hospital, waiting for a doctor to see her, so she could get her arm fixed and her shoulder set. Sakura’s mother hadn’t shown up at all while they sat in the waiting room, even though she had been sent for.

They waited at the hospital for hours on end, Ino helping Sakura revise for an upcoming test by reading to her, since Sakura couldn’t move either of her arms.

Ino remembered the kindly woman who had arrived at the waiting room after they’d already been there for a few hours. The woman had asked them what the matter was, and Ino had explained Sakura had fallen off a rooftop while Sakura looked fixedly at the opened textbook on Ino’s knees and muttered historical dates to herself in a dull tone. Her ice pack had long since melted back into water.

The woman had pounced on the next doctor who appeared in the halfway – an elderly man who looked like he’d been going home already. The woman had talked to him insistedly and then  pointed at Sakura and Ino – Sakura still hunched over to mitigate the pain in her shoulder, staring at the textbook and muttering. Ino had waved at the man to  come over desperately.

The doctor had looked at them for a moment, then said something to the woman, and then he had walked over  and sat down next to Sakura on one of the plastic chairs.

Sakura had noticed he was there at that point, but had looked intimidated by his doctor’s coat, barely saying a peep when the older man had politely greeted them, introducing himself as Miyazaki-sensei and asking what the problem was, and where their parents were.

Ino had explained Sakura had fallen off a roof and that they’d gone to the hospital straight from the Academy, that they were ninja in training.

“But it’s eight p.m.” the man had said with widening eyes. “And did you say a roof?”

Ino shrugged. She’d been fuming the past couple hours, only restraining her anger for Sakura’s sake. “See for yourself,” she told the doctor irritably.

Then she’d  pointed at Sakura’s black and blue arm and shoulder, the bruises visible through the little holes in Sakura’s green dress. The doctor had made big eyes, adjusted his glasses in obvious shock and proceeded to hastily invite them into his office. He had a lot of questions about where Sakura’s parents were, and  why no one had helped them check into the hospital properly, not even an Academy sensei.

Ino had explained that there had been a huge scandal at the Academy, her own parents having gotten called to the headmaster’s office – Ino excused only so as to accompany Sakura to the hospital.

The doctor had shaken his head and then he’d started treating Sakura’s arm and shoulder.  He’d explained even as he did that the hospital was ‘a bit short on hands today’ and apparently an ANBU platoon had arrived gravely injured some hours ago, and that was why they’d been so swamped, and why perhaps Sakura had been forgotten about. Ino hadn’t been mollified overmuch, but Sakura had already  beaming at the man with hero worship halfway through his explanation.

Getting over her shyness, Sakura had pelted the man with lots of questions about medicine, broken bones, and what  precisely he was doing with his chakra, and the doctor had patiently explained everything in great detail. At the very end, the doctor had even said he thought Sakura  could make a good medic if she studied hard and wished her a happy birthday (Sakura having shyly mentioned that it was today.)

By the time they’d left his office, Sakura had been beaming.

“Best birthday ever,” she’d said as they left the hospital together, the sky already dark. 

Tobirama sighed heavily. He was still up on his tree – spacing out like an idiot and forgetting to watch Haruno’s spar with Hatake.

He and Yamanaka – Ino, he supposed; one couldn’t see such private memories of someone and remain on a surname basis – he and Ino hadn’t had a chance to discuss the memories she’d shown him a fee minutes ato because he had been in a hurry to spy on the woman, but… maybe he should have stayed to talk with Ino for a while.   It was a lot to unpack. Especially that Creep–sensei character, he would like to know exactly what the man had done to earn Sakura’s wrath. He wanted a confirmation while wishing desperately to know that it wasn’t what he was thinking. After all, so many children of clan heads had been involved. Surely… something like that wouldn’t be allowed to go on, right?

He wanted desperately to ask, but he had left in such a hurry… and now he knew for sure that he wouldn’t be able look Sakura in the eye for a while. It wasn’t like he had seen something totally damning, but… he knew that memory was… it would make her furious if she was aware he’d seen it. Either because of the implications of what may have happened to her, or because he’d seen she had… what did people call it? Abandonment issues.

He’d had no time to process any of it, and the spar was almost over. He knew he’d have to talk to Sakura and apologize as soon as he could get her alone. Er  Haruno. He’d have to talk to Haruno. Whatever. He still wasn’t sure as to how to mentally refer to her, how to classify her, if to keep mistrusting  her or give her a pass.

Ino didn’t have to spell it out to him for Tobirama to know what she’d been trying to tell him, by showing him such private memories.  

He’d gotten what he asked for: Sakura’s truth. A memory that showcased how manipulative she could be, and yet… she had used those skills to protect those around her.

Well played, Yamanaka, he thought again. Well played indeed.

In truth, what he’d seen shouldn’t change anything. The circumstances of why Haruno was manipulative shouldn’t matter. She had turned out the way she did, and Ino’s memories showed exactly how conniving she could be, even at a young age. She’d plotted to get a teacher fired for Inari’s sake, and then executed her plan flawlessly, dragging a heap of others into it and somehow getting away with it scott free.  It was… it should definitely be unsettling.

Ino had taken a risk in showing him that, for certain. But it was out of this reason that he could tell the recollection wasn’t fake. The prior memories she’d shown him… they could have all been a fabrication, some sob-story to make him feel bad for Haruno – but the way she’d taken down that teacher, there was something incredibly raw about it. Even that odd detail of how she’d played with those marbles as she plotted on top of the monkey bars… it rang true. He knew immediately that it had happened just like Ino had shown it. He should be disgusted to encounter such cunning in a mere child of – what was she again? Ten? – but Tobirama couldn’t find himself all that bothered about it. 

Not when he couldn’t spare an ounce of empathy for people who preyed on children. So it seemed, he had understood what Ino was trying to tell him on an emotional level: yes, Sakura was – or at least had the potential to be – manipulative when it suited her; and yes, she absolutely was someone who knew how to play people masterfully, like the  harp of doom he had envisioned earlier… but at the same time… something had changed.

Now he understood better why Haruno was the way she was. From a mother that made her feel like her intelligence was shameful, something that should be hidden, to a father that taught her she would be abandoned at the first sign of problems… it was no wonder she hid behind a veil of easy good–naturedness, and, if not incompetence, then complacency.

She hid her intelligence, her drive to succeed, all her hard edges. She could be competent, but not too competent to be a threat to her teammates, lest they abandon her too; she could allow herself to be beautiful, but not too beautiful to show up her fashion-conscious best friend, lest she leave too; she could be intelligent, but not too intelligent to drive away her former teachers; she could be hard, but only in rare situations, remaining soft enough not to alarm anybody the rest of the time.

She hid, and hid, and hid, like an iceberg. So much of herself she kept from others. It was ironic in a sense that only he got to see the parts no one else did. She didn’t shy away from displaying her hard edges to him, or her intelligence, or even her physical appeal (when she’d gone on her fashion crusade)… and he was the only person she did not care about. She only let him see as much because she believed he would never tell anyone, and his regard was worth nothing. 

So he missed out on the other face of the iceberg. Her kind and loving side, which she perhaps played up a little to fit in better, but which must exist – which did exist. He had see  her bring the Hokage meals every day, paid for out of her own pocket, making sure he ate properly and often barely talking to him as he was too busy,  not expecting anything in return. He’d seen her feeding the strays on her street every morning, and even her act of defending Ino’s fashion choices (annoying though her method had been) came from  a place of kindness and love.

Yet… her love was guarded and selectively given to only a few, and everyone else just got to deal with her phony side.

He understood what had made her  become so guarded now, so attuned to the hidden intentions of others. He had thought he wouldn’t care about infringing Haruno’s privacy, but now that he knew more… he regretted pushing Yamanaka into letting him see those memories – no doubt cherry picked to get the point across, and nothing more.

It was clear that what Ino had shown her was only scratching the surface of… whatever abuse Sakura had undergone. If it was psychological, or physical, or even sexual… Tobirama couldn’t say, and he honestly shouldn’t want to know either. It was none of his business and – well, he was the one who had pressed for more details, so he shouldn’t complain when he got burned.

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Ridiculous, Tobirama grumbled to himself. This whole situation was ridiculous.

Haruno had left to spar with the Hokage of all people… so now Tobirama was free to roam the village. He should have taken the chance to go literally anywhere else – yet here he found himself, crouching on a high branch over the training ground Haruno and Hatake had picked for their spar.

He’d told himself only recently that he’d give almost anything for a quiet moment alone, outside of the lab; would  have given his non-existent liver for a walk through the quiet woods of Konoha’s outskirts, for a few breaths of fresh air and some peace and calm away from the hubbub of Konoha and the stuffy air of the lab, full of corrosive chemicals…

And yet…

Why was he here again?

He was stupid. He was so stupid and he knew it but he didn’t care. At this point, he was invested in figuring that blasted woman out and watching her spar with a tough opponent might actually come in handy… or so he told himself.

He knew Haruno allowed Uchiha Itachi free reign in Konoha, which only made it grate all the more that he should be confined to the lab. Wasn’t he the nidaime Hokage? Wasn’t Uchiha Itachi the man who had massacred his entire clan? In what universe did Tobirama get the treatment of a suspicious individual while Uchiha was given carte blanche to parade around the village as he saw fit?

Tobirama sighed. He supposed it was his fault for antagonizing her. Uchiha had chosen to play nice and look how well that had worked out for him. Haruno clearly favored Itachi and let him do whatever he wanted, having even bought a flat for him.  Meanwhile, she seemed to actively go out of her way to irritate Tobirama in every possible way under the stars. Tobirama had to admit that the woman could be creative.The only reason why he hadn’t rage-quit the project yet were the memories of Haruno’s childhood, which had stayed with him more than he’d care to admit. Haruno herself, though? Her current behaviour was still as infuriating as ever.

She was cagey at best. A walking red flag at worst – hunching over her notes whenever he was within reading distance in a way that screamed suspicious and writing them directly in code. He had to admire her for coming up with a whole new alphabet and being fluent enough in it that she could write scientific research in her little code without the need for a draft… but mostly he was just straight up pissed.  It wouldn’t have been more obvious Haruno was doing something fishy if she’d waved a sign in his face. He hated that she acted as if he was about to do something extremely nefarious while she went around acting like the second coming of Orochimaru. What was she expecting he’d do if he didn’t like what she was up to, anyway? She literally controlled him!

It also irritated him slightly that Yamanaka’s obvious ploy to emotionally manipulate him – by showing him those same childhood memories he couldn’t stop taking into account – was working. Yes, he did feel bad for Haruno, but Tobirama’s own father was also a good example of a scum parent, and you didn’t see Tobirama crying around for attention about it. Then again, neither did Haruno. He was positive she had no idea Yamanaka had shown him any of those memories… which was probably for the best, considering how hard the woman could punch. Yes, Haruno was many things, but she didn’t strike him as the type to weaponize her own trauma for personal gain. She was the type who tried to pull it all under the rug and pretend to be perfect.

Tobirama knew now that Haruno wasn’t, though. He couldn’t undo that. He knew that she wasn’t the perfect medic with the perfect family and the perfect picket fence civilian upbringing he had envisioned when he’d first met her. The memories Yamanaka had shown him weren’t enough to draw any definite conclusions – but Tobirama didn’t need to see a lot of examples to recognize she didn’t have a great time growing up under that roof.

Obviously, there was no standard for how one’s early life could shape a person – but according to Yamanaka, early childhood was cripplingly important. And also according to all the books on the topic he had read since she had told him that. He’d read them for his own sake, though – not Haruno’s. The conclusion he’d drawn was that apparently, Tobirama had drawn the short end of the stick in repercussions of going through traumatic experiences during childhood.  

 First, he got saddled with the sorry excuse of a parent, and then he wound up socially incompetent anyway. Where were his abilities to identify and adapt to the smallest tells, the minutest  shifts of facial expressions in people? Why wasn’t he a charming and slick bastard like Izuna or Haruno? Why couldn’t he be sensitive to the smallest of body language and voice pitch changes? That would’ve come really in handy back when he was involved in politics.

Though come to think of it, Haruno didn’t seem that good at reading those things either. He got the feeling she was good at inferring people’s intentions from their actions and words, more than from non-verbal cues. Still, his point stood.  Though, he had read that every child reacted differently to this type of upbringing. They could just as well turn out to be a little meek, with a tendency of being people pleasers, as rule-breakers hell bent on proving that they didn’t listen to authority. Trying to place himself in a scale from people-pleaser to obstinate rule-breaker, Tobirama found that he was neither and both. He had been called a people-pleaser when he was younger, though the exact wording had been ‘Father’s little soldier’, but he had also been notorious later on in life for disregarding instructions and going through with his experiments… so which one was it?

He could only conclude that psychology was not his thing because he wasn’t getting anything from reading all those books.  

Tobirama hated to admit it, but Ino had definitely picked a good set of recollections to show him. He usually had little empathy to spare for adults which he considered manipulative (ie. Haruno), but children were a different story, and in showing him the memories of Haruno as a child, Ino had struck right in his weak spot.

Well played, Yamanaka. Well played indeed.

After viewing those memories, he hadn’t known how to act around the woman for a few days, so of course Haruno had picked up on his shift in behavior  and apparently decided she disliked it. He was almost certain that his decreased  antagonism was the cause for her increased… everything. Somehow his lack of animosity had alarmed her, because she seemed to have been trying to make up for it in the past weeks. Haruno would do things meant to needle him – to indirectly get on his nerves, without actually attacking him in a head on manner, so to speak, like going on about her god-awful menstrual diary, wearing provocative clothes and acting generally unhinged around him. And by  the Sage, she managed to push his buttons effortlessly. Tobirama was actually embarrassed that she had managed to figure out how to annoy him so effectively.

If he had thought she was doing all those things because she didn’t know any better, that would’ve been different. He would’ve put up with it (begrudgingly).  But all her misbehavior clearly stemmed from a desire to get on his nerves, and paradoxically that’s what actually did.

Scraping her chair extra noisily just because she had somehow figured out he had sensitive hearing. Constantly flaring her chakra in dizzying patterns while he was trying to think. Even farting right before leaving the lab at night. What was it they said? “Silent but deadly?” Tobirama couldn’t agree more.)

She was just so infuriating! Breaking all rules of decorum, which were there for a reason, just to get a rise out of him? Gods, her chakra’s ever-present skittishness made it impossible to hear his own thoughts sometimes, even after she’d left the lab. Haruno was tinnitus made human.  He just couldn’t get her  out of his head. And not in a good way.

 He knew she was testing his boundaries, probably attempting to figure out how far his patience went, and unfortunately, he had never been known for having much of that.   Tobirama’s own confusion didn’t help. After watching the memories and spying on Haruno’s day to day life, even he wasn’t sure what he thought of her anymore. Childish? Absolutely. But… all those other things he’d thought before? He wasn’t sure. Indeed, since Yamanaka had provided some insight into her past, he wasn’t sure if she was as bad as Izuna and Orochimaru anymore. But even the worst villains had sob stories. And Haruno’s wasn’t even particularly dramatic. She simply wasn’t loved as a child.  It shouldn't change anything.

But it did.

Somehow, he had started looking at Haruno from another perspective without realizing it. Not so much what is she plotting? But more what makes her tick? What is she thinking? And more often than not: How is she planning to annoy me today?

It almost kept life (death) interesting to have her around. Almost.

Tobirama had glimpsed Haruno eating Uchiha Itachi’s cooking thanks to his astral projection jutsu and he still couldn’t believe she could be so trusting of the man. How could she eat something prepared by such a dangerous individual but then go on to hunch over her research and inspect the tea cabinets? Tobirama had been able to listen in on all of Haruno’s private conversations thus far, so he knew all which she and the Uchiha shared with each other. He knew of Haruno’s disdain for him, though he was surprised that she spoke less negatively of him when she was out of sight. Almost as if she were playing up her dislike in his presence.

As for Uchiha Itachi… he was a hard man to get a read on. Initially, Tobirama had been sure that Itachi had been planning something nefarious. However, two months had passed since Sakura had summoned him, and so far all Itachi had done was play both housewife and lookout –  earlier today, he had proven his usefulness by helping them avoid getting caught by Kakashi.

So, yes. Perhaps Haruno had made the right call to bring Uchiha into the research. He had proven useful to have around and surprisingly loyal. For all that he was nearly hermetic when in Tobirama’s presence, Uchiha Itachi acted remarkably relaxed when (he thought that) it was just him and Sakura. Tobirama had been sure initially that Itachi’s behaviour around Haruno was some kind of act to get Sakura to drop her guard around him, or favour him, but now Tobirama wasn’t sure anymore. The act was too perfect, Itachi’s ease around Sakura too natural, down to his body language and even the feel of his chakra – chakra being something most actors and liars forgot to take into account. Either Tobirama was missing something major, or Itachi genuinely liked  Sakura.

Which was baffling, because Itachi didn’t seem like the type of person who trusted strangers easily. It was strange to realize, Tobirama found himself feeling more suspicious of a civilian-born than an Uchiha, but this was the case now.

If someone asked  Tobirama why he ended up following Haruno to the training ground after she left with the Rokudaime, he wouldn’t be able to say. Despite how he could have finally taken this chance to take a refreshing walk through the woods – he needed to understand who she really was – and  he felt that sometimes, when he couldn’t suss someone out in a normal setting,  fighting that person told them their truth. Unfortunately, attacking Haruno was off the cards, so he would have to settle for watching her spar with the Hokage.

Honestly, he already felt like he knew her better just from that one punch she had delivered earlier. Not that he was proud of getting her to that point. Frankly, the woman had a preternatural ability to get on his nerves. For Inari’s sake, he should not be losing his temper at his age, but the woman just brought it out in him. There was just too much about her he didn’t understand, too many contradictory and aggravating details to wrap his head around.

How should he have known she was dressing provocatively as some sort of crusade to defend her best friend’s honour? Tobirama hadn’t known what to think when he’d noticed Haruno specifically went out of her way to wear scanty clothes while at the lab, especially considering she was quite conservative in her style of dress while at the Academy and when she was out and about. Well, actually, he had thought she’d decided to change tacks from antagonizing him to seducing him – but that theory hadn’t fit in since she’d continued behaving antagonistically.  Either way, it had made him very uncomfortable.

Now apparently it turned out that Haruno had noticed him giving Yamanaka’s outfit a disparaging look and decided to go on a crusade to defend her honour.

It made Tobirama want to snort. The woman was absolutely ridiculous. The earlier argument had given him some insight into some of her strange actions, but he still had a lot of questions – which was where Hatake came in useful. By observing Haruno sparring with him, he should easily be able to determine whether she was the lauded war hero Ino had claimed or not. 

Knowing how bookish Haruno was, he doubted the woman would be such a strong fighter. Chakra control could only take you so far after all, and he didn’t recall her doing any heavy lifting during the war, either.

Tobirama settled down on his tree branch, preparing to enjoy a long session of the Hokage absolutely thrashing Haruno.

…what.

Tobirama  could only stare in a silent stupor as the current Hokage and Haruno exchanged barrage after barrage of elemental techniques. How many separate jutsu was that? They’d used at least over a hundred different techniques so far, and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to slow down. An ordinary jonin knew around twenty elemental jutsu across the board, of one maybe two natures, and that would already be a generous estimate. This… this was ridiculous.

He wasn’t that surprised about the Hokage’s obvious skill… but Haruno?

Not only did she dominate every nature transformation, but she knew enough techniques to put him to shame. Not to say she could beat him in a fight, he added hastily – quality was better than quantity, in his opinion – but for all that the quantity of the techniques Haruno seemed to know was startling, there seemed to be no obvious quality issues either. Haruno’s mastery over each one of the jutsu she employed could not be contested.

How? How can a woman this skilled waste away at the Academy, being pushed around by her colleagues? How can a woman this skilled have a job that regularly sees her forced to take on all the extra detentions and chores? She doesn’t even like teaching! What on earth is a warrior of this caliber–?

Tobirama shook his head.

He supposed if he’d had any doubts as to whether Haruno truly  was ‘Sakura of the neo-sannin’ now he had his answer. It was startling to see a woman who could fight so well. During his time, women had been relegated to the hearth and the marriage bed. The word ‘kunoichi’ wasn’t completely unheard of, but it usually referred to geisha who seduced information out of targets… not women who actually fought like a man would.

Of course, there were always some exceptions, like his clansman Touka, but they were few and far in between. Not to mention, women like Touka weren’t exactly pink-haired, short and delicate-looking.

Tobirama himself had gone against the tradition of not wanting women on the battlefield by teaching his grand-niece, Tsuna, the ways of ninja, back before her family had even decided to send her to the Academy. He’d been the one to first show Tsuna how to hold a kunai or kick a man in the liver, but he’d only done so because he wanted her to be able to defend herself come hell or high water – not necessarily because he wanted his precious Tsuna to go into that lifestyle.

The joke was on him now, he supposed as he watched Haruno spit a veritably unpleasant-looking fire dragon at Hatake.

The jutsu repertoire of those two boggled the mind. However, what he was more surprised at was Haruno’s taijutsu technique, on par with that of the Rokudaime or even superior. Tobirama would’ve expected a medic by profession to fight cautiously, and he would’ve expected a woman to move with decorum and delicacy… not… not this.

Even his cousin Touka, a veritable fury in the battlefield, had stuck to ranged attacks, well aware of the fact that male ninja had an edge on her in the physical department.

Haruno Sakura, however… she fought close range, and she did so fearlessly. Despite her size disadvantage, she didn’t let up an inch against Hatake. In fact, her size didn’t seem to be causing her any issues in the close combat department.

Tobirama narrowed his eyes. Exactly how was she accomplishing this? It was one of the known tenets of battle that the shorter opponent was at a clear disadvantage. How could it not affect the power of her kicks, the reach of her punches?

For all that she was pink-haired and petite, with smooth skin and soft hands, Haruno Sakura fought like a two meter giant with facial scars and enough muscle to make a bull envious.

She certainly didn’t conform to the classic standards of femininity – at least, not right then.  Tobirama  followed the rest of the fight with increasing incredulity and narrowed eyes, until the Hokage and his student (?) finally called it quits.

The training ground now resembled a disaster zone.

Needless to say, Tobirama finally understood that Hatake had not been exaggerating earlier when he’d commented that Sakura’s punch – when she’d hit him in the chin –  had been weak.

Just… what.

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Sakura cracked her knuckles together, facing Kakashi, who stood across the field. Her eyes bore into his, she could feel herself slip into that exhilarating animal state her brain entered when fighting. This was one of the only ways to shut her brain off. Even when training alone, her mind would return to her projects, her worries, her abstract what ifs… but a spar, a spar forced her to focus on the here and now.

She didn’t realize how much she’d missed it until her lungs were heaving for breath and her legs burned with fresh exertion, her fingers twitching into handsign after handsign.

“Chidori!” she yelled, charging at Kakashi. The man leapt to the side and parried with a doton . Rubble flew everywhere as she crashed her lightning charged fist into the earth wall.

“Ma, Sakura-chan. You’re all fired up today.”

“Less talking, more fighting!” she yelled, switching to fire nature and spitting a fireball at him.

The sooner she finished here, the sooner she could go do damage control and fix whatever Tobirama had done to get revenge on her.

Kakashi chuckled, effortlessly summoning a water dragon to cancel her fire out. Sakura couldn’t help but bite back a smile as she leapt onto the water dragon, skating down it like a kid in a water slide.

Kakashi sputtered in surprise as she formed a drill with her chakra and shot towards him.

“Not bad!” he called, twisting out of the way at the last second.

And… there went her chakra, she thought mournfully as the entire field exploded beneath her like a shattered piece of glass.

“Wow,” Kakashi choked out. “Not holding back today at all, are we?”

She merely grinned at him. “Aiming for a quick finish today, Hokage!”

She had enough chakra control now to ‘turn off’ her super punches if the intended target dodged them, but today she’d allowed that blow to land at full power. She wanted to end the spar quickly, but to that end, it didn’t really matter who won, just that one party couldn’t keep going. Which could mean: if she  used up all her chakra, she’d have a ticket out.

As the earthquake rattled the training ground, Sakura expedited the path to her own chakra exhaustion by summoning a tidal wave and sending it towards the crack in the earth Kakashi had sought refuge in.

“You sure are using a lot of the big jutsu today,” Kakashi remarked, scuttling out of the crack with harried movements.

“I’m always in the mood for big jutsu!” Sakura yelled. Though usually, I care more about saving up my chakra…

Just like in sex, the aim during a spar was always to last as long as possible, Sakura found – though lackluster performances were of course discouraged. However, finishing quickly was seen as one of the most embarrassing outcomes possible in a high level spar, hence why Sakura usually cut it back on the ninjutsu uSage a little. Okay, a lot. Her chakra reserves just weren’t that big, and her punches were just the most chakra efficient attack she had, okay? As powerful as a Rasengan or a Chidori when needed, but also capable of recycling all the chakra that went into the technique, so that she didn’t have to waste it all each time she attacked. Now, however, she was aiming to finish as quickly as possible. Win or lose, she only wanted to end the match so she could go look for Tobirama.

Kakashi obviously decided to get on the let’s-spam-big-jutsu bandwagon because sent a lightning dragon rocketing towards her. Sakura laughed out of sheer adrenaline, dodging out of the way with the mole-hiding jutsu and then reemerging beneath Kakashi’s feet. He moved out of the way, but she surged forth and engaged him in a taijutsu bout.

“That lightning dragon’s new!” she yelled over the noise of the exploding earth, courtesy of a dodged ax kick.

“I know!” Kakashi shouted back, staggering away from the earthquake fissures.

She slammed her palm down and earth boulders sprang up where he’d been standing. “That so?”

“Yup! Came up with it last week!” He shot a phoenix flower jutsu at her.

“It’s the one you’ve been working on since last summer, right?” Sakura yelled, beaming at him as she stepped out of the way of lightning-charged explosion tags and flickering flames. “Congrats, Kakashi!” Snatching one of the kunai tags  up from midair, she lobbed it at him. “Really, it looks amazing!”

“Thanks!” She caught a glimpse of his eye crinkle smile before he sicked another lightning dragon on her.

She dodged it and watched the lightning creature whiz past. “It’s so pretty!”

“I know!” Kakashi said again, his face alight with the white electricity as he attempted to douse her with a water jutsu.

She shot a wind bullet through his water cannon and sent the water splashing everywhere before it could hit her, drenching him in his own technique instead.

Gotcha .

Wet meant vulnerable to lightning and Sakura wasn’t going to pass up such an opportunity.

Kakashi knew her too well, because one glimpse at her expression and he disappeared up a tree, clearly realizing her intentions to shock him with a Chidori before she could even make the first handsign.

“So mean to use my jutsu against me!” Kakashi yelled over his shoulder as the thousand birds began to chirp a song of murder  in her palm.

“Bah, don’t be a sissy!” She chased after him, Chidori chirping maniacally in her hand, but her plan to electrocute him via wet clothes was ruined as Kakashi managed to dry himself off with a fire jutsu while running. By the time she’d reached him, he was dry and ready for her: clasping her lightning infused wrist and swinging her over his shoulder like a volleyball.

“Bon voyage!” he yelled merrily, sending her careening into the forest deeper in the training ground.

“Bastard, not the fucking wrist!” she yelled back at him, laughing at the swooping sensation in her stomach as she twisted and twisted like a leaf in a hurricane.

Some ten seconds after launching, she caught herself with a flip in midair and managed to recycle the energy of her Chidori into a genjutsu that would hide her presence, projecting it only in the direction Kakashi was in –  a neat trick she’d picked up to save up on chakra. Should've skipped it, she thought. She was trying to finish quickly, but she was just too competitive to throw the match, after all.

Smiling breathlessly, Sakura landed on a tree branch, soft as a feather, electricity fading from her skin – only to discover Tobirama crouching there, staring at her with his typical unreadable expression.

Sakura spared a moment to stare at him in surprise. She hadn’t sensed him there at all!

Shouldn’t he be elsewhere in Konoha, setting fire to the Uchiha district or her house or something? She wished she could just ask him why he’d followed her here, but Kakashi would hear her with his chakra-enhanced hearing if she spoke, so that was out of the question.

‘What are you doing here?’ she mouthed, hoping the nidaime knew how to read lips.

He gave a shrug that told her absolutely nothing, other than that the man was infuriating.

Already knew that, though. Sakura stuck her tongue out at him in a childish fit of irritation.

The nidaime just stared back blankly.

I suppose it’s a good thing he’s here, in any case… she reflected, looking at the man in puzzlement. Better have him where I can see him than elsewhere, causing trouble.

He raised a brow then, as if to say: ‘take a picture, why don’t you?’

Sakura had just rolled her eyes at him when she felt Kakashi approaching.

“Sakura-chan,” came his taunting voice from the trees. “You’re not tired already , are you?”

Yet more childish antics. Giving Tobirama an awkward wave, she launched herself back into the trees, rounding around Kakashi with quick jumps, just as he noticed and dispelled her illusion.

“Who’s tired, old man?!”

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Forty minutes later, both lay panting on the shattered earth. Sakura lazily petted Pakkun from her spot on the ground. The ninken had returned with two take out boxes clutched in his maw a while ago. She was touched. Rare was the occasion in which Kakashi invited, and he’d gotten takoyaki and anmitsu, too. Her favorite.

“Thanks, Kakashi,” she whispered, straightening enough to look at the man. Kakashi was just laying there, staring up at the sky in apparent contentment. He was truly exhausted, too.

A few years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to keep up with him. Sakura wondered whether she’d improved or he’d lost form. It was hard to tell sometimes. For example, she’d noticed she had a slight chakra imbalance now: her spiritual energy had been much more accessible than her physical. That could either be because she’d neglected her training a little as of late, or because her ying reserves had expanded again.

It was a known fact that monks, who spent all day meditating, had chakra reserves as large as a jounin’s – but their chakra  was almost entirely yin chakra. This was because it was largely mental chakra that they produced. Both types of chakra were necessary for casting jutsu, but expansion of either type was typically a good thing, as it increased one’s overall capacity. Sakura was only slightly mad that it also meant she’d have to work on her control again to refamiliarize herself with the equilibrium point. She couldn’t bring herself to care right then, though.

“That was surprisingly savage,” Kakashi commented, settling down on a cracked rock next to her. “You should fight like that more often.”

Sakura laughed. “Thanks, sensei.”

“No, I mean it,” Kakashi said, leaning forward to pass her the sushi container. “That was really good.”

Sakura shrugged awkwardly. “I know I’ve been neglecting my training… you don’t have to try to make me feel better about it. My control was shot today.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes fondly. “Mah, Sakura. What the hell would you call my control then?”

“Okay, it was subpar for my standards, not yours,” Sakura argued, which only made Kakashi laugh more.

“Sure thing, Ms Perfect control,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry we can’t all be subpar enough to be called subpar by your standards.”

She tugged her mini skirt down and pointed at him with her chopsticks. “Shut up. You know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I don’t know about that, Ms Perfect.”

“Augh! C’mon, Kakashi!”

They kept bickering for a while, before eventually lapsing into silence.

“Your chakra control isn’t what I mean,” said Kakashi after a lull in the conversation. “That aggressiveness you displayed today – that was really good.”

Sakura blinked at him. “What? You weren’t praising me out of pitty?”

Kakashi shook his head. “I’m serious. That was top tier.”

“Huh,” Sakura said, surprised by his praise. Kakashi generally avoided praising people on their fighting skill – and especially not her. He’d once told her it was because ‘an overconfident ninja is a dead ninja’ but she still somewhat resented his miserliness. That was why it was especially surprising to hear him say such a thing, after all these years of ‘mah, mah’ moments after she’d mastered the Chidori, or the Rasengan, or whatever jutsu he threw at her.

“Why’d you look so surprised?” Kakashi asked with amusement. “Don’t you think you did a good job today?”

“To be honest… I thought it was your old man ass that got slower,” Sakura said with a shit eating grin.

Kakashi grabbed her into a headlock and gave her a look that could kill. “Say that again?”

“I thought,” she choked out between cackles, “that it was your old man – ack!”

He pinched her arm rather rudely. “Insubordination against the Hokage, Sakura-chan? That’s a punishable offense.”

“I thought that lying to the Hokage was a punishable offense – ouch!”

They horsed around for a little longer before finally settling back down on their dislodged crack in the soil and going back to their food.

“I was just kidding,” she finally admitted. “I know you wouldn’t let yourself go!”

“Uh-huh,” said Kakashi, giving her a dark look. “See if I ever say anything nice to you again.”

“Oh, come on,” she protested. “I didn’t mean it like that, Kakashi. Someone’s just gotta keep you humble now that you’re  the big boss man! Overconfidence killed the ninja, remember?”

He sighed, giving a faint chuckle. “Glad you’re so concerned about my welfare.”

They lapsed into silence again, enjoying their food in companionable silence.

“Did you really mean that?” Sakura asked eventually. “When you said I fought more aggressively today?”

Kakashi put down his chopstick. “Definitely. I was wondering what crawled up your – ahem.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Tobirama did. “And you think this… uh, aggressive mode of fighting suits me better than my usual style?”

Kakashi nodded pensively. “I know I told you myself to go easy on the jutsu when you were younger, but you’re at a level where I think it’d be criminal to stick only to your punches.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “You really mean it?”

“Would I lie about this, Sakura-chan?”

“Hm… well, I don’t know. You could be trying to sabotage my fighting skills so that I won’t be able to join ANBU…” Sakura trailed off pointedly.

Kakashi sighed. “Not this again.”

Sakura snickered, carefully biting into one of the anmitsu. “Never letting you forget, jerk.”

“I gathered.” Kakashi sighed. “D’you want mine?” He offered her one of his anmitsu.

Sakura softened a little, smiling at him and accepting it. He was so kind. Like an older brother, always looking out for her, even when he acted like a demon at times.

“You’re really not settling in well at the Academy, huh?” Kakashi asked with resignation.

Sakura propped her chin on her knees. “Well, I’m the new girl. It was sort of expected.”

“How’s your TA? He learning good?”

She shrugged vaguely. She’d picked this guy because he seemed like he’d deal well with children, which he did, but he was also not the best at explaining complex concepts to them.

“That bad, huh?”

Kakashi’s voice shook her out of her reverie.

“No!” She exclaimed, jerking in his direction.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Sakura,” he replied somberly. “I can see the Academy just fine from my office. They  make you stay behind all the time.”

Sakura shrugged uneasily. “I’m the new girl,” she repeated, for lack of anything better to say.

Kakashi sighed. She suddenly felt something being pressed into her hand, and, glancing down, she glimpsed a summoning contract. In her lap.

Sakura glanced up at Kakashi with her mouth agape. “What…?” she managed.

“If the slugs are willing to share… so are the ninken.” Kakashi was giving her a solemn look.

Sakura could only stare in shock.

“Kakashi, I couldn’t–”

“I would feel better if you had the ninken with you during ANBU missions,” Kakashi said simply, taking her fingers and closing them over the scroll.

Pakkun, who had been dozing in her lap the whole time, barked once, affirmatively. “We talked it over, Floral. No point in forcing you to waste away here when you want to be out there.”

“Pakkun…” Sakura ran her free hand over the smooth fur, then glanced up at Kakashi.  She already had Katsuyu. This wasn’t… Kakashi had avoided giving his summoning contract to anyone all these years– and she could understand, really. The one time he’d taught Sasuke the Chidori, she and Naruto had been so angry…

After Sasuke had tried to kill her with that same technique, Kakashi had quietly taught her his Chidori  and told her to use it better. To stay safe. Granted, no one knew about that... but now he was giving her his summoning contract. There was no way Naruto and Sasuke wouldn't find out.

Overwhelmed, she launched herself at Kakashi and gave him a heartfelt embrace (aka squeeze the life of him) – accidentally knocking over his canteen in the process.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, sensei. Thank you for understanding… about the Academy… and… ANBU… and thanks, Pakkun,” she added, pausing to draw the little dog into the hug as well.

“Mah, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi said. “It’s okay. I just want to be happy… and safe,” he added the last part a little hesitantly.

Sakura nodded with a sigh. She understood his aversion to the idea of letting her join ANBU.

“So… when would I join?”

Kakashi sighed. “Tomorrow, if you like.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Tomorrow? What?! That was… she couldn't! That was so soon! Had this spar been her ANBU test?

Sakura shook her head in disbelief. She’d only started with her research because she’d had extra time after Kakashi had banished her off to the Academy… but now that she’d finally gotten her wish to join ANBU, she actually wanted to stay at the Academy. Not because she liked it there, but because any other job would interfere with her research! Sakura cast about frantically  for something to say to Kakashi. She wasn’t even sure what to think, if she were honest.

“You know, Kakashi… I said I wanted those kids to learn medical ninjutsu, and I don’t want to quit before I accomplish that,” she muddled through her explanation awkwardly. “I’m thinking tomorrow is too soon... is that okay? Could I, uh, postpone joining?"

Kakashi smiled at her. "You know I'll never complain about that. But I thought you were almost done with your programme?"

"I... yeah, I've almost finished training my TA... but... I've been thinking that maybe there’s something wrong with how we’ve approached the incorporation of medical ninjutsu into the curriculum… The students don’t have enough chakra control and background biology knowledge to perform adequately in my class, so I can hardly expect them to.”

Kakashi was  looking at her attentively. “So what do you suggest?”

Suddenly, her idle musing during class time came to her. She’d never meant to tell him, not when it would surely get her stranded organizing it all, but…

“I believe the Academy curriculum is outdated,” Sakura said carefully.

“Oh?” Kakashi asked. “How so? You know I attended for less than half a year, so…”

Sakura nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. There’s a lot of things I don’t like about it as it is. The discrepancy between civilians and shinobi is the main problem.”

“That’s supposed to be the main problem the Academy tries to solve,” Kakashi said.

“It’s not,” Sakura said. “I believe civilians should have access to some sort of daycare program before the age of six, and for those who don’t go to the daycare, at least a one year-long intensive course to get civilians to the level clan children are at when they start the Academy.”

Kakashi hummed, indicating that he had heard her idea and would give it some thought. “Any other thoughts on the system?”

“Yes, actually,” Sakura said. “I believe that education on chakra control should be tailored to the different types of students. I’d recommend splitting them at the beginning based on their mode of perception, in order to speed up the process of teaching them how to use their chakra. I also think the emphasis on chakra control should be much higher.”

“They need to learn how to fight as well, Sakura. We can’t force them to work ten hour days just so that they meet your standards of perception.”

“No, we can’t,” Sakura agreed, “but as our society gets industrialized, as our population grows and a new era of peace begins, we need to start preparing for a time where increasingly less of our income will rely on missions. I believe the Academy graduates should be trained enough to go into medicine, sealing, and other professions which require great chakra control, but not necessarily fighting skills.”

“This is a lot to spring on me,” Kakashi noted with some amusement. “I don’t know, Sakura, I think you make good points, but the problem is that not everyone can pick up chakra control at the speed you did, no matter how much we wish for it.”

“Again, that’s because all children are taught control the same way, which is ridiculous, considering how different every child is,” Sakura said.

“You think you’d do a better job if you were put in charge of a class from the get go?” Kakashi asked.

Sakura nodded. “I know chakra, Kakashi,” she said confidently. “I’ve successfully minted a whole new generation of medics in a few years’ time. I know how to teach chakra control.”

Kakashi nodded thoughtfully.  “Well, how about this? I put you in charge of an incoming class of students. After a year, we compare their results to those of a regular class. If the results are noticeably better, we’ll put all the Academy teachers through a training program to implement your method going forward. Sound good?”

Sakura thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, it does.”

Especially because that would give her enough time to finish her experiments. Hopefully. And also do something about the appalling chakra control of her students.

“So, then… about ANBU…?” Kakashi asked.

Sakura smiled, scratching Pakkun behind his ears. “I’ll let you know when I want to join. Can I still sign the contract now, though?”

Kakashi huffed. “If Katsuyu agrees with it.”

Sakura grinned. “You’re the best Hokage in the whole village, sensei!”

“I’m the only Hokage in the village,” he said with a sigh.

“Well, that’s what you get for telling everyone that I’m your best female student all those times,” she noted cheekily.

Kakashi snorted and ruffled her hair. “More paperwork for me. Yay.”

Sakura was in a good mood by the time she said goodbye to Kakashi. She made her way back to the lab somewhat reluctantly, and as expected it was empty. No Tobirama anywhere in sight.

She frowned, glimpsing the fist  imprint on the wall and shaking her head at herself. She shouldn’t have lost her cool like that. And for just a look? She wasn’t very good at reading facial expressions, and especially not his. Maybe he really was concerned about lab safety, or just the rules of dress code for their sake… She wasn’t stupid; she knew the nidaime was a product of his time. The culture shock must have been brutal. Bizarre, even. Still, that didn’t undo how much he irritated her. For starters, he was a sexist bastard and extremely conservative to bat. The sexism wasn’t even that bad – to be honest, even her teammates and most men in the village were sexists, so it wasn’t that surprising that someone from the literal dark ages would be, too. But the bastard part, on the other hand…

She couldn’t lie, what really irritated her was Tobirama’s arrogance. It was clear that he’d spent many years of his life as the person with maximum authority, the one everyone always listened to on all matters. The fact that no woman had wanted to subject herself to the man said enough about his character, in Sakura’s opinion. He was so unbearably stuck up that Sakura just couldn’t stand to have a single conversation with him, never mind spend hours upon hours in his presence every damned day. 

Still, she shouldn’t have punched him. It was fine when she was fifteen and imitating her shishou to fit in with the guys, doling out a playful whack or two, but over a decade had passed since then. And she had never lost control back then, either.  

Sighing, Sakura picked up the discarded Hokage hat in a corner, which Kakashi had forgotten to take with him, and slung it over her shoulder with its strap. She’d give it back tomorrow once they met to hammer out the details of her new position at the Academy.

“Intending to make off with Hokage property?”

A voice that rang out behind her surprised her. It was Tobirama – he’d come back.

Sakura stiffened and turned. Her eyes fell on him as he leaned against the doorframe. For a moment she wondered what he meant, then realizing he was of course talking about the Hokage hat. She was about to get defensive when he noticed the slight smirk in his lips and realized he was messing with her.

“Just returning this to Kakashi,” she muttered, uncertain how to handle the situation.

Tobirama said nothing, watching her from his spot by the door.

“What are you doing here?” Sakura asked, quirking a brow at him. Why are you sticking around after I gave you literal carte blanche to get out of dodge?

Tobirama made a vague gesture with his hand. “Would’ve been bad news if someone had recognized me.”

Sakura nodded, uncertain.  “Yeah. That’s for sure…” She paused hesitantly. Should she apologize for punching him?

She thought about it for a split second, her usual politeness warring with her dislike for Tobirama –  but then decided against it. The nidaime was a jerk. He’d deserved it for saying she was dressed like a harlot, and for infringing upon her space, and for being a bigot, and for being Danzo and Orochimaru’s inspiration, and for being the first domino in the chain reaction that was the Uchiha massacre, and Sasuke’s abandonment, and… and he deserved it for inventing the edo tensei that had lead to the war, and ultimately–Ino’s dad dying.

So Sakura didn’t apologize for punching him into a wall, even if she knew she’d shattered his cheekbone, which had probably hurt, even if he was dead. She involuntarily glanced at the stretch of wall he’d slammed into. Some of the seals that had been placed over that area had been broken, the white paper tags decimated by the force with whichTobirama had slammed into them.

Apparently noticing where she was looking, Tobirama said: “They won’t take long to replace.”

Sakura glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “Kakashi is busy with the war now. He won’t be able to carve out much time to fix the wards.”

Yes, she was fully aware it was her fault for losing her temper and punching Tobirama into a wall that had seals layered over it.

“War?” Tobirama repeated. “What war? Are we at war?”

“No.” She frowned, disliking how concerned he’d looked. “We’re not at war. Iwa is. With Iron.”

“The samurai?”

“Yeah,” Sakura mumbled. “Iwa was having problems with their weapons supply chain, so Iron took advantage of that to attack.”

“But we’re not involved?” Tobirama asked.

She shook her head, still staring blankly ahead, at the seals. “A part of the council wants to pressure Kakashi into getting involved. He’s fighting tooth and nail to make sure we don’t, but many people would be interested in dragging us into it. Much money to be made off of it.”

Tobirama shook his head and sighed. “Nothing has changed, then.”

Sakura didn’t reply. She didn’t know how to deal with him when he wasn’t insulting her in some capacity. When they actually agreed.

“I’ll have the seals fixed by tomorrow,” the man said into the silence.

Sakura whipped around to stare at him. He’d… what?

Her eyes narrowed, wondering if this was a trap. No doubt, he’d enjoy changing the wards to suit his purposes… to trick her somehow…

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “I won’t tamper with the wards.”

“How do I know that?” she asked, raising her chin.

He frowned. “I recall the wards Hatake designed. If you’re so concerned, I’ll replicate them.”

Sakura glared at him. She was tempted to snap that she wasn’t so concerned, thank you very much – he just wasn’t trustworthy – but in the end, she was too tired for it. The recall jutsu Ino had created would ensure that she remembered exactly what the seals Kakashi had created to protect her lab looked like. She’d notice any foul play, even if she didn’t understand the seals themselves.

Therefore, she gave a short nod. “Thank you.”

Tobirama inclined his head.

She turned and moved toward the exit, shifting the Hokage hat in her grip around, so  that she could open the door to leave the lab, but then… something made her stop a few paces short of the door.

Sakura turned to regard Tobirama for a moment. He had already turned away from her, head lowered. He was studying something that was on the table, with a strangely melancholic expression. Or maybe that was just her projecting her own mood onto him.

She bit her lip, her guilt over making him stay in her lab while letting Itachi live in a flat coming back to her. She didn’t owe him anything. He’d called her a harlot. He deserved to be imprisoned in her lab. Today, more than any other day. Edo tensei resurrections didn’t sleep, so it wasn’t like he’d need a bed, and her lab had a kitchen and a bathroom. He deserved it.

 But then again, maybe he had called her that because she was being awful to him.

Shit. Why can’t I just be a bitch for once?

Sakura sighed and coughed awkwardly.

The man glanced away from the table and at her.

“Uh… Sen… Tobirama. Do you… do you want to stay elsewhere? I mean, the lab must get stifling. Itachi told me he can’t sleep, which I’m guessing means you can’t either, but perhaps you might welcome a change of scenery.”

“I’m alright here, Haruno,” Tobirama said quietly.

Sakura inhaled through her teeth. She had been expecting a Tobirama to jump on the chance of getting out of her lab during the nights. “Are you… sure?”

“Yes. Since I can’t sleep, it makes sense to get some work done during the nights,” Tobirama said. “I have much scientific progress to catch up with, as it is.”

Sakura nodded uncertainly. “I… well, if you’re sure. I rented a new flat for Itachi, so you wouldn’t even have to put up with me.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Tobirama said, amused. “Took my advice about butchers, I see.”

She glared at him. “Stop insulting Itachi.”

Damn it. She reached out with an olive branch and he immediately trampled it.

“I will never be able to trust someone who killed his whole family. I don’t care about the reasoning,” Tobirama said with a shrug.

“Even if he did it to save Konoha from civil war?” Sakura asked.

“Even then.”

“You still shouldn’t call him a butcher,” she said, crossing her arms.

He sighed. “He’s not even here.”

She glared at him. “My presence didn’t  seem to stop you from calling me a harlot.”

“Haruno. I don’t think you’re a harlot. Sage.” Tobirama ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry I said that. But did you have to provoke me like that?”

She eyed him. “Like how? Because wearing certain clothing isn’t grounds for an insult like that.”

“You deliberately–” he sighed. “No. You’re right. I should not have said anything even if you walked in buck naked.”

She wanted to be smug, but somehow she chuckled instead. “You wish.”

He snorted shook his head in exasperation. “No, I don’t.”

Sakura leaned against the door. “Will you stop bitching about my menstruation diary if I start wearing old-timer clothes?”

“I told you to wear whatever you want,” he said irritably. “Though I’d appreciate if you ceased your backhanded insults about my time.”

“Fine, then don’t call Itachi a butcher. Or any type of outfit slutty.”

“Fine,” he said. “Though it would behoove you not to prohibit me from leaving the lab from now on. In case of unexpected guests… you saw what happened today.”

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed with a sigh. “Today with Kakashi was definitely a close shave.”

“Too close,” Tobirama agreed.

Sakura leaned against the wall, shuffling her bags and the Hokage hat around into a more comfortable position.

“What made you hengue into Kiba?” she asked, suddenly recalling that strange tidbit.

“The Inuzuka?” Tobirama gave a shrug. “I saw him from the window once, talking to you. I figured it made sense to choose someone you would associate with.”

“You did?” Sakura asked. She couldn’t recall meeting with Kiba close to the lab, but she supposed she must have. “Well, that was quick thinking there.”

Tobirama shook his head. “It was luck, for the most part.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Er,” Sakura said, fixing her gaze on one of the lamps. “Anyway, I have more than enough money to put you up in a motel, or rent a second flat if you don’t feel comfortable staying here. Or we could have you and Itachi switch,” she added as an afterthought.

“I appreciate the offer, but if I feel the pressing need to get out of here, I’d rather get lost in the woodlands for a while,” Tobirama said.

The woods? Sakura arched a brow. “I suppose your people must’ve felt a much greater tie to the forest than we do in the present time.”

“Don’t you also sleep in the woods for missions?” Tobirama asked, slowly lowering himself down into her chair and spinning around it.

For once, the sight didn’t offend her as much since she was leaving for the day anyway.

“Well, yeah, but if offered the choice of sleeping in a bed or up a tree, you can bet your ass I’m picking the bed,” she  remarked.

“To be honest, I think most of my clansmen would’ve echoed that sentiment,” Tobirama said. “I only have a preference for sleeping in the woodlands due to my affinity for sensing. It can get… a lot, here in the village.”

Sakura cocked her head curiously. “Can’t you turn it off? The sensory input?”

“I suppose I could, but it would be akin to blinding myself.”

“Huh. Then, sleeping in a house in Konoha, is it hard?”

“No more than falling asleep in a room full of celebrating people.”

“Okay, so it’s bloody hard then,” Sakura concluded with a snort.

“It can be reassuring when you get used to it, though Konoha has doubled in size since my time. I don’t think I could fall asleep here even if I could sleep,” Tobirama noted.

Sakura nodded thoughtfully. An idea suddenly occurred to her and she smirked.

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just reflecting that that must be why you’re so prissy all the time.”

Tobirama’s deadpan look was all she’d needed to bark out an amused laugh.

“What? It’s true!” Sakura said. “The sleep deprivation explains so much. You look constipated most days, as if someone had shoved  a popsicle  up your ass.”

Tobirama’s eye roll came back in full force at the comment. “I’d best not remark on the cursed voodoo doll someone must’ve shoved up yours then.”

Sakura bit back a snort. “Cursed voodoo doll? Are you serious? Why would you even say that?!”

“Your behavior leads me to believe that you might require an exorcism.”

Sakura shook her head. “Whatever, occult expert. I’m going home.”

Tobirama nodded. “And I’ll be helping myself to your tea.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “As if you didn’t already empty half my stores, Rock-Brains.”

Tobirama shook his head and wheeled his chair over to the wall she’d punched him into. “You’d better hope there’s more than rocks up here if you want me to rebuild these seals by tomorrow.”

He tapped the wall, already half-distracted by the missing seals.

Sakura had nothing to say, to be honest. “The part of your brain that deals with emotions is a rock,” she muttered. “But I admit that the rest isn’t.”

Tobirama turned in her chair, to give her a look, and she just sighed and grasped the door handle.

“Well, good night,” she muttered, opening the door carefully, still juggling the Hokage hat and her other bags.

“Good night,” came Tobirama’s reply just as the door was shutting behind her. Sakrua sighed and began molding her chakra into a shunshin. Today had given her a lot to think about.

ONE year ELEVEN months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ITACHI

He had never thought he would get to exchange any words with her—Haruno Sakura. It all began shortly after Itachi defected from Konoha.

In those uncertain times,  checking up on Sasuke through his crows had used to give him a sense of peace – or rather, of control. He didn’t think he could ever feel at peace again. But still – the closest to that sentiment he could come was when he saw his brother was fine. This became habit enough that he required at least one daily checkup to be able to rest at ease. Only when he had made sure that his little brother had survived yet another day in which he could’ve been kidnapped or killed did Itachi relax enough to fall asleep.

And so, Itachi had observed Sasuke for many years, and by proxy, the people he surrounded himself with. This had included Sakura fairly often, even before team seven’s inception.

After Sasuke’s defection, there should’ve been no more reason to keep spying on his brother’s teammates. But… Itachi had continued to do so anyway. One could say, he had missed team seven’s shenanigans. 

Especially the Haruno girl — Itachi had continued to check on the genin out of a strange sense of curiosity. She was an odd one, that was for certain—reminding him strangely of himself.

Haruno Sakura: unbeknownst to most, the genin with the highest kill count of her generation — at age twelve — civilian born and yet overlooked, talented and yet plain, the genin who almost broke his genjutsu, according to the Hokage… how could he not be curious?

In truth, though, he followed Sakura’s progress due to more pragmatic reasons. She may have a high kill count, but nothing could rival his own, and he wasn’t that interested in what a twelve year old did with her time. However… Itachi had insomnia issues. Usually, checking on his brother would put his mind at ease enough to sleep, but after Sasuke had disappeared into that snake’s den, keeping track of him had become nigh impossible, as the crows could not reach him in Orochimaru’s lair… 

Itachi had fallen deep into the abyss of sleeplessness. He had realized that he relied too much on his coping mechanism: he needed to kill himself to sleep by watching someone that could take his mind off things,  to be able to destress enough to relax. So somehow, it wasn't even a conscious decision, but he had ended up replacing his spying on Sasuke with spying on Sasuke’s teammates, who he had already spied on plenty by proxy by that point anyway.

It was nothing creepy in his opinion, he just needed a sleep aid. Also so, he’d just have a short look at what Kakashi, Sakura and Naruto were up to, and often enough, it would somehow immediately lull his brain into sleep within ten minutes. Sakura’s day to day was especially effective at knocking him out cold, since Naruto was too loud and rambunctious to lull anyone into slumber, and Kakshi tended to be neck-deep in ANBU missions or porn at night — neither of which made for effective sleeping aids. Sakura, however, was usually at her desk at night, perusing some mildly interesting topic while safely ensconced in Konoha, examining a skull or experimenting on a fish  – just entraining enough to keep his attention, but not exciting enough to make him stay awake. The soft monotony of Sakura’s nights was just the thing to help him finally disconnect – after watching her for a bit, he’d be out like a light. Some people listened to music or the radio to be able to keep unwanted thoughts at bay when attempting to fall asleep—Itachi spied on a random civilian born.  Don’t judge.

With time, he started to become more interested. He’d sometimes kill spare minutes throughout his day by looking in on her – getting random snapshots of her life. He even became somewhat invested at the discovery that  Haruno’s mother had abandoned her, and Sakura was forced to live on her own. For a while, she was a little adrift, struggling to fend for herself in a world of adults, and it was like watching an interesting drama series and rooting for the heroine to manage various tasks on her own, such as getting her roof thatched, or dealing with the rowdy neighbor across the hallway.  Sakura’s family situation reminded him in a strange way of his own, despite their backgrounds being polar opposites, which also helped make him feel invested.

In true drama series fashion, her friend Ino found out about the girl’s predicament and came to the rescue, inviting Sakura to eat over with her family almost daily.  It was true that there was probably a self-interested component to some of the Yamanakas’ acts of kindness towards Sakura, considering the rewards they and the Nara clan reaped from keeping her around, but nonetheless they were there for her when no one else was.

As for the rest of team seven—Itachi did keep an eye on them as well, but to a much lesser extent, especially as time passed. He couldn’t look at Naruto without feeling his age old anxiety  bubble up, and as for his old captain… Itachi only checked on Kakashi very occasionally, mostly out of guilt for how he’d tortured him.

Still he’d managed to catch the man singing Sakura’s praises to the moon and back – coincidentally managing to bring up the topic within hearing distance of the Hokage – not once, but five  times. The fifth time he’d outright told Tsunade-sama that Sakura would make an amazing disciple.  For a man who had never praised anyone whatsoever back when he’d been an ANBU captain, this was a notable tonal shift.

Ultimately, it had been Tsunade’s decision whether to take her in as an apprentice or not – yet another gripping  drama show plot to keep him entertained – and finally, the voice had been favorable. From what Itachi had observed, the Hokage did whatever she wanted – but Kakashi had certainly been the one who’d put Sakura on her radar. Well, strictly speaking, the one who put Sakura on the Hokage’s radar had been Itachi himself, but that was a story for another time.

After Tsunade-sama took the girl in, of course, it had been up to Sakura to prove her mettle, but if anything, Sakura was too efficient rather than too little. Itachi had feared she might scare the poor Hokage off.

Soon, Sakura began to lead the life he only wished he could have. A life that revolved around healing, rather than killing: giving life, rather than taking it. A life under the thumb of the Senju clan head – one could even say, as the Senju’s heir – so similar, yet so different from Itachi’s own past.  

It was clear to Itachi, as the one observer who likely saw the most of the Lady Hokage’s interactions with Haruno Sakura, that Tsunade had at first been unsettled by Haruno. Anyone perceptive would be, considering Sakura’s secret title as the genin with the highest kill count of her generation. It was possible the Godaime had taken Sakura on as a student to keep her off the bloody path Kakashi had gotten her started on.

Tsunade worked the girl to the bone, imposing upon her the necessity to follow a rigorous routine, learning medicine for at least ten hours every day, and not leaving her time for combat training or any of Haruno’s… prior morally dubious pursuits. But even such a training regimen didn’t seem to be quite enough to keep Sakura from developing her skills as a shinobi. She was well on her way to become the very best in the field of medicine, yes, but her independent, unsupervised (even unsanctioned) training ensured that she was also right on track to inherit the title ‘sannin’ for her combat skills. It seemed to Itachi that Tsuande had miscalculated somewhere if she expected to keep Sakura off the battle field.

Then again, who knew what the Hokage was thinking? She sent the girl on plenty of errands around the Hokage Tower that  were ideal to give her a solid grasp on Konoha politics. Admittedly, Sakura’s stellar forgery skills and knack for arithmetics might have influenced Tsunade’s decision to involve her in paperwork matters.   While initially hesitant, by the time a year had passed with Sakura as her student, the Hokage clearly had overcome all her reservations regarding Sakura – and she certainly  had no compunctions in putting the girl’s skills to good use. 

By the time she was fifteen, Sakura was in charge of proof-reading legislation to find loopholes, revising taxation laws and reports, had rebuilt her family’s hotel business, and even routinely checked over budgets and money-issues for Tsunade. By the time she was sixteen, Sakura had back to back surgeries almost every day and a law degree under her belt. Itachi knew she cheated with the Yamanaka memory jutsu, but still, it was impressive.

That same year, she added the defeat of Akasuna no Sasori to her list of accolades.

Itachi remembered that day with some fondness. Sakura’s triumph over Sasori, and the first and only time he had crossed paths with her. It had not been planned.  Rather, it wasn’t so much that he didn’t plan on ever crossing paths with her as that, when it actually happened, he’d suddenly realized that he wasn’t going to do anything to harm her… and that somehow, this aversion to hurt her was absolute.

He had been alarmed when he’d ran into Kakashi-san back after the Konoha crush, too. He’d held Kakashi-senpai dear for a long time and having to face him in battle had been like a slap in the face. Itachi had lain awake at night after that episode, wondering what the fuck he was doing with his life, for many days after that confrontation. He’d truly questioned whether he should end it all back then. Was his work as a spy amounting to anything? Was the trade off worth it, if it meant he had to torture one of the few people he had ever genuinely liked?

Kakashi would never know that that encounter, which he had allegedly lost, had probably done more psychological damage to Itachi than it ever had to him. It had happened three years before Sakura had been sent on the Sasori mission. So when they had met again on that field, it’d been long enough for the guilt over torturing to Kakashi to fade a little, but not nearly enough to forget.

But then it happened: he was standing there, in that field, with team seven across from him… and it had all come crashing back into the forefront of his mind again, like a tidal wave. As he stared into team seven’s wary, alert faces, he’d known. Now he’d finally laid eyes on Sakura without his crows running interference, and faced Kakashi for the first time since torturing him, as he’d taken in their wary posture, recalling Kakashi’s tortured screams inside his illusion, he’d known: he had reached his threshold.

He’d stained his hands so many times he’d  developed a tolerance for it, and that realization disgusted him so greatly that it almost bowled him over. He had reached his threshold when he realized the extent of his apathy. His apathy about hurting someone he’d once held so dear.

“ Heh, Itachi-san. That’s oddly sloppy for you.”

He remembered Kisame’s remark when he’d returned from that encounter, waking up in his real body after the failed distraction maneuver, continuing with the extraction of the one tails  as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Only, something world-shattering just had. Because Itachi’s mission had been to put all  of the members of team seven under a genjutsu, and yet he’d only entrapped Naruto, Kakashi and the grandmother—Chiyo. He’d only used a weak illusion to bat. one which he’d known Kakashi would break out of without problems, even taking into account possible PTSD from their previous encounter. And most damningly yet, he hadn’t cast anything whatsoever on Sakura, he just couldn’t bring himself to, which was stupid, since he knew first hand how competent she was.

“ Why didn’t you just take the Hokage’s apprentice hostage?”   

At that question, he’d drawn up a complete blank. 

It was a fact that, while cunning in his own right, Kisame wasn’t the most tactical-minded individual… and yet Kisame had thought of a plan which Itachi hadn’t even considered – taking Sakura hostage as a distraction. He’d been so torn up over whether he should cast an illusion on her or not that he’d completely missed the fact that, were he uncompromised, he’d have tried to take her hostage immediately. He wasn’t supposed to know that that wasn’t a viable option, that the girl was scarily competent not just at healing. Only someone who spied on her would know that…

Stumped would be one word for what he had felt at that moment, after that question. Because while, yes, he was a double spy, that had been an oversight. Taking the Hokage’s disciple hostage –  a disciple whose skill wasn’t known at the time, a supposedly weak medic – would’ve been the obvious no-brainer for a real missing nin. He should have taken steps to at least try, and then purposefully fail, to kidnap Sakura. Even Kisame had thought it was odd that Itachi didn’t think of that plan. And if he’d at least thought of the plan and an excuse as to why it would not be feasible, that would be alright. It would just mean he’d used his position as a spy to save a key peace from a spot of trouble. But that hadn’t been what happened.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t taken Sakura hostage, so much as that she’d taken him hostage. He could explain away not finishing off Kakashi when he’d had the chance, but he couldn't explain not even taking a shot at such a priced asset as the Godaime’s student.

He remembered his quiet moment of panic after Kisame’s question, his not so minor freak out as the extraction of the One Tails continued. He remembered thinking that this lapse was going to come back to bite him, that his position as a spy would be outed by none other than an unwitting  Haruno Sakura – or any number of other worst-case scenario type outcomes – and all because of such a stupid oversight! But luckily, Kisame wasn’t the most tactical minded individual around, after all, and no one else had been overly concerned about Itachi’s encounter with team seven. He had feared someone would ask  him for his opinion on the members’ skill level, particularly Sakura’s, and that he’d have to admit that he hadn’t even made an attempt to engage her.

Thankfully, no one asked. Sasori and Deidara had both been  what you’d call ‘arrogant bastards’, neither of the two posing any questions about their approaching enemies.

Still, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Itachi had spent the rest of the jinchuriki’s bijuu extraction worried sick about getting caught. He hadn’t particularly liked the Suna Kazekage – Naruto may have chosen to forget what Gaara had done to Sasuke, but Itachi wouldn't any time soon.

Just let him die, Naruto, he remembered thinking irritably as Naruto came charging in with the rest of his team in tow, yelling about how he was going to save Gaara. Itachi was aware that a double spy wasn’t supposed to think so callously, but he was honestly just cheering for them to leave Gaara to his fate and get back to safety.  In his opinion, sending Naruto – a jinchuriki – to the jinchuriki hunters’ lair was just asking for it. What had Kakashi been thinking, allowing this? Tsunade? Honestly. Itachi had been itching to walk up to them and give them a piece of his mind. Moreover: Sakura. he’d been aware she was qualified to fight on the level of a jonin at the time, in fact, if she picked Sasori as her opponent, she would probably be more qualified than Itachi himself, given her unique set of skills and that Sasori would be a terrible match up for Itachi, due to his odd nervous system, but still very much resented the fact that she had been roped into an S-class fight so young.

They should have waited longer… she’s still fifteen… he had thought irritably. He also remembered fuming to himself that he was going to have words with Jiraiya about this. Not that the man would care – all Itachi could do was write coded letters. They were using flower language as their code, so he doubted him saying he was very upset that ‘tulip’ had made an oversight in sending off ‘chrysanthemum’  to battle would intimidate anyone into not doing it again.

At any rate, Itachi’s worries had been assuaged when the news got out that Sakura had killed Sasori.  One of his crows had recorded the whole thing with the Sharingan.

Sakura had defeated the man in all aspects: she had beaten his supposedly unbeatable poison, and then she’d shattered all of his puppets until finally restraining him so that the man’s grandmother (of all things) could deliver the finishing blow. If that wasn’t rubbing it in, Itachi didn’t know what was.

He had been unbearably smug for a while there. Haruno Sakura had shown them.

And perhaps at this point, one would think that Itachi’s concerns about Sasuke’s little teammate would’ve finally been put to bed. He had no cause to worry or care about her anymore, in fact, the fact that he kept tabs on her had proven to be a crucial mistake, impairing his judgment during a key encounter. Surely,  Itachi could rest easy now, knowing that Sasuke’s team would be fine no matter what dangerous  situation they wound up with with a medic of Haruno’s caliber around, and that Haruno herself  was capable of beating the likes of Sasori was equally encouraging…

Long story short, the obvious conclusion was that he should stop sending his crows to spy on her. But… the issue was… he’d grown too used to vicariously finding some pleasure in life through her: Haruno Sakura. Every other aspect of his life was rancid. Even depressing. He was dying, Sasuke was in the clutches of a mad man, the honor of his clan was disgraced, Itachi himself was hated by all those he loved… Sasuke would kill him… and until then, he would have to live with the pain of what he had done.

Honestly, a lesser man would have just hung himself a long time ago. Itavhi was uncommonly good at gritting his teeth through whatever he had to, but he was weak in one respect: escapism. It was his Achilles heel. The reason why he could withstand so much was his ability to retreat into his head, but when his head was no longer an option, then he had unconsciously replaced it with some form of external entertainment. He had begun to depend on that external entertainment to stay sane without even realizing it… and also without realizing it, he had narrowed his entertainment source down significantly. He had always enjoyed people watching, but some people were more interesting than others.

After a long day of killing and playing a part, there was something soothing about just… disconnecting. Following someone else’s progress through the chess game of life. Bonus points if it was someone actually relevant to the end result. Tsunade was obviously the King and Itachi a bishop deep inside the enemy range, cutting down the diagonal, but he wouldn’t be enough to win the game. For the longest time, he had thought Naruto was the queen, and perhaps he was, but a queen’s death was common close to the end game.  Ultimately, victory would often depend on the pawn that could transform into queen. 

Itachi quickly grew to realize that there was a second queen on the board, and it wasn’t Kakashi or Tsunade or even Jiraiya. Not even Danzo. No, it was as yet a concealed piece, still appearing like a pawn to most, perhaps she would not become a queen in the eyes of the spectators at all, still shaped like a pawn, but he could see deeper, and he saw her.

Like one who read a nice, calming book before going to bed, each night, Itachi would close his eyes and make the handsigns that would allow him to see that which his crows back at Konoha were seeing – and follow the progress of the second little queen. She led an interesting life, anyway. 

There was always some new “tea”, as Sakura’s friend Ino would say, regarding the Hokage tower politics, or the hospital politics, or even the civilian guild politics… or if not that, then Konoha would wind up getting involved in whatever new intrigues constantly taking place at the Daimyo’s castle. Sakura was somehow always in the thick of things. Being in the Hokage’s confidence meant that she was first to find out about the scandals on the ninja side of things, and her civilian social contacts amongst the guilds ensured the same for that side. Her job at the hospital meant she also kept getting dragged into the hospital power struggles, and if that weren’t enough, the Yamanaka’s were always gossiping about the clan dramas during meals, which Sakura still took with them.

Essentially, Sakura always seemed to know everything that  was going on everywhere – at least everything that was relevant for the big picture.  Itachi hadn’t started spying on her out of strategic reasons, but at this point, if anyone ever did find out, he could honestly tell them that Sakura was a well of information.

Though interesting for his spy work, the intrigues of Sakura’s daily life weren’t actually what drew him in. 

Thins had gone according to Tsunade’ plan and Sakura had left aside her previous, more sanguine hobbies. Instead, she had developed a new love for scientific research somewhere along the line. She had limited to working with other scientists for at least a year (much to Itachi’s own amusement as he, in turn, spied on her), but her triumph over Sasori’s poison seemed to have given her the needed confidence boost to branch out and request being allowed to do research on her own. 

While Itachi understood very little of what Sakura was doing when she puttered about the lab, it was somehow just… satisfying to watch in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Exactly the type of calming thing that made him feel better after a long day of killing people who didn’t deserve it.

This is someone I can trust to get things done, he would tell himself.  

Sakura’s experiments would save the lives he took.

Watching her in surgery would’ve been a dream for him, but unfortunately, his crows couldn’t access the hospital area well, so he had to content himself with following Sakura’s progress at less interesting times.

However, as ANBU had begun to make it a tradition to drop in on her while on death’s door – rather than going to the hospital – he did manage to see her in action more than once. 

Honestly, Itachi couldn’t understand how anyone could be so inconsiderate. He had often thought that if he were… if things were different… in a world with no Uchiha massacre, in a world where  he was still a mere ANBU captain at the service of Konoha… well, in that world, he would never visit Sakura demanding treatment in the middle of the night, or truthfully, at all. She deserved more consideration than that. Though a part of him wished he could experience being healed by her, even if just once. It was an odd wish, but it grew more prominent in his brain the more his illness advanced.

What he had was a heritable disease. There was no defeating it. Nothing could be done, all the doctors agreed. His DNA was just wrong. He was like a defective toy, the end of his days determined from the moment he’d been wrongly assembled at the factory. And yet, he… sometimes he would close his eyes, and wonder what Sakura would say, if she were to examine him. But that day would never come, he knew. They would pass each other like ships in the night, his queen-pawn and he.

And so Itachi had lived. He had lived the life of a traitor, the life of a fugitive and a criminal, the life of a heartless mass murderer…  and vicariously, he lived the life of Haruno Sakura, and then he had died, eventually, at long last.

And then he had lived again.

To say that he’d been shocked when he’d been resurrected a second time would have been an understatement. The shocking part hadn't been his resurrection – he had almost been counting on some nutcase daring to bring him back, after all. That was the reason he’d set his failsafe in place – the one that had allowed him to defy the edo tensei the last time.

No. The reason he’d been so shocked was because, in front of him stood Haruno Sakura and… Yamanaka Ino.

Itachi was shocked because it suddenly clicked into place that Sakura must have been the one to bring him back; must have been the one who had used that despicable jutsu. He was shocked because the Sakura he had watched for so many years… that Sakura he had cherished more than a stranger should – that Sakura would have never made use of such a dark technique.

And yet.

He was shocked because Sakura was no longer the coltish seventeen year old he’d last glimpsed through his crows upon his prior resurrection, during the fourth war. He was shocked because she looked more collected now, regal almost, outwardly warmer and yet somehow harder deep down; he was shocked because he finally stood in front of her, after wishing to for so long, and yet… it was all backwards, twisted, a perversion of what he’d envisioned.

“Do you wish to be reincarnated?” Sakura’s friend blurted out.

“Ino!” Sakura scolded, turning to the blonde. And that did wash away that initial impression  of wrongness. The familiar scolding tone… those mannerisms… this was still the Sakura he knew. But did he ever know her, after all? What did she want from him? He had the ability to escape the edo tensei’s power… As long as his crow was near enough to use Shisui’s eye on him, he would be safe. Last time, he had sealed the crow with the eye into Naruto. This time, as luck would have it, they were in Konoha, his summons’ preferred residence.

Itachi glanced out of the window, and, sure enough, there was his summons. He met its red eye and looked into the spinning tomoe. Immediately, he felt the strings that controlled him being cut. He was free to do as he pleased. If he liked, he could kill Sakura now.

He  decided to answer Ino’s question instead.

“No… No. I’d rather remain in the pure lands.”

The pure lands… as if he’d ever go there. Those tales about so-called “pure” lands were just old wive’s platitudes. There was nothing after death. Not that he could remember.

Sakura gulped, eyeing him with a degree of apprehension he should have expected, but which still stung, for whatever reason.

“Itachi…” she said softly – and that did surprise him. Not Uchiha-san. Itachi .  “I have created a technique that should… hopefully… result in a perfect reincarnation. You will be as you once were.”

Reincarnation? Did that mean…?  

“I have no desire to live in a world so tarnished,” Itachi told her, closing his eyes.  It was the truth. He couldn’t live with his guilt. Since he’d broken the control of the edo tensei already, he was free to leave Sakura and Ino here and do whatever he wanted, but… that was the problem. The only things he wanted were unattainable.

However, he surmised Sakura must have summoned him here for a reason. He had faith  in her loyalty to Konoha. Perhaps there was a threat to the village  that needed to be disposed of. In that case, he would help. He’d pretend to still be under Sakura’s control.

He took the moment of silence to watch her. She had changed, indeed. He wondered what she was doing now. Tsunade had groomed her to be anything and everything she wanted to be. She could be a top notch surgeon, she could be an ANBU or a jonin. She could be a researcher. She could be a mother. She could be the Hokage, even. Or the hospital director. Or even the ANBU commander.

Itachi watched her, as he always did, drinking her in. This was the first time  he saw her with his own eyes. Not from a borrowed body or the jutsu connecting his mind to his crows’...

Sakura looked a little like a monk with her hands stuck in the sleeves of her haori – Lady Hokage’s haori. It suited her, matching her eyes. The green garment peeked out beneath the flowing white lab coat she was wearing. The white lab coat was flowing off her like waves; long and open, and she had merely slung it over her figure, not bothering to stick her hands into the sleeves. The way she wore it was reminiscent of how a king might wear a bear pelt. She was imposing somehow, as she stood in front of him. Larger than life.

Then she spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Itachi, but I frankly don’t care.” Itachi blinked slowly at her. “You’ve broken Sasuke beyond repair, no matter your good intentions for him, his needs take precedence over yours in my book.”

Itachi regarded her, unsure what to feel. Of course Sasuke’s needs took precedence over his own; always. What was she talking about? He found himself voicing his thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime,” Sakura said, her tone laced with censure. “Sasuke needs you here, alive . He needs closure. That’s all I’m asking of you. Let us perform this jutsu. Give him a chance to get closure, at least. If you wish to commit suicide again after I bring you back, I will respect that. I will leave well enough alone. But… you owe your brother that much. Please, don’t fight me on this, Itachi.”

Sakura would probably never know it, but she could not have chosen better words to chain him to her. It was like she’d looked into his head and knew exactly what to say to him to control him, how to shape his guilt into being, into  a spear to wield for her own purposes.

But that was the question, wasn’t it? What were her purposes? She said she wanted him to be there for Sasuke… surely that was not it? Surely there was some enemy Sasuke needed help defeating, and that was what she meant… What use did Sasuke have for him otherwise? He’d given him his eyes already…  Itachi didn’t see the point.

“I would only cause problems for my brother if I came back,” he said slowly. “He would be accused of hiding me from the rest of the village.”

“Your resurrection is only part of a larger plan, Itachi,” Sakura said quietly. “I intend on bringing back… a number of people. Your coming back would not cause problems – at least, no one would believe you had faked your death, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

…Itachi immediately believed her. He suddenly even believed that perhaps she could resurrect him for real.

That was the thing with them, or, he supposed, just her. He didn’t need to ask any more questions to know that Sakura spoke the truth. To know that she was going to resurrect all of those people, and that, impossibly, she was doing all of this out of simple kindness, scientific curiosity, out of love for his brother… Sasuke really couldn’t have asked for better teammates.  But if she’d brought back the likes of him just  to please Sasuke, then… who else would she bring back?

Itachi’s heart good as stopped in his chest, the image of their faces flashing through his mind’s eye. No. Please – no. Not mother.

“Have you brought anyone else back?” he asked mechanically.

“You are my first,” Sakura replied.

The relief in his chest almost made his knees go weak, and he tended not to feel his emotions that strongly. It bowled him over to such an extent that he even lowered his guard enough to make a joke.  “I see… so, I am your guinea pig, Sakura-san.”

Sakura inhaled sharply, as if he’d just said something horrifying.

Itachi tensed as well. What had possessed him to make a joke? Could he be any more stupid? He never made jokes. Ever. Why now of all times?

“What do you know about me?” she demanded, her voice hard as marble. “And Ino?”

…damn it. He wasn’t sure how she’d jumped from his making a joke to him knowing something he shouldn’t about her and her friend, but either way, the situation was problematic because he actually did know a lot of things which he shouldn't.

What to say?

 He began to talk about Ino first, to buy himself some time, rattling off some basic facts about the girl as his mind whirred. How much could he afford to say about Sakura? How much was too much and how much was too little?

Surely, she must know he’d kept an eye on her. Anyone in his position would have done so, especially with summons made for spywork like Itachi’s. Anyone in his position would have shadowed her –  not to the extent he had, but they’d at least know the basics. If he said too little about her, she might realize that he was lying and ergo that he had broken out of  the edo tensei’s mind control function.

He forced himself to remain impassive as the moment finally came to speak of Sakura. “You are Haruno Sakura,” he began slowly, unsure how to continue. Where to even begin? He supposed he should stick to the bare facts. “Teammate to my little brother and Uzumaki Naruto, the pupil of Hatake Kakashi and Senju Tsunade. You are of civilian descent.” He would’ve logically spied on her back when Sasuke was still in Konoha and then stopped, so he should probably show he possessed  some basic knowledge about her from when she was younger and leave it at that. “Your final scores at the Academy heralded your future as a medic even then. Your parents—” he decided not to touch that can of worms but for the absolute minimum bare facts, “—are civilian: Haruno Kizashi and Haruno Mebuki, born Shindo. They are merchants of the upper middle class. Your grandparents own a hotel in Tanzaku Gai – The Seashore , worth almost fifty million ryo. You will inherit it upon their passing...”

Actually, they might own more than one hotel now. Sakura's family  just had the one before the crush, but Itachi knew she had already managed to rebuild it before the war, and that had been a decade ago. Who knew, if that had gone well, how the Shindo fortune might look now?

He didn’t say any of this, though, continuing to stick to the bare facts rather than conjectures.

Ino began to look shocked as he spoke, but Itachi’s high opinion had always been reserved for Sakura alone. And Sakura’s death stare was utterly flat and she met his eye unflinchingly.

She didn’t seem phased at all that he knew all these things… Itachi began to grow uneasy the more he revealed, and the longer Sakura remained impassive. He knew Haruno Sakura.  . Surely, if the things he was saying surprised her, he’d have read it on her face. The fact that they didn’t must mean… did she…? Did she know he’d spied on her?

She must. Itachi had no idea how, but somehow, she seemed to know.

But how…? He had never noticed her noticing. But then again… she was an adept sensor, and a good ninja never let on when they knew they were being watched.

He supposed it was only logical that she’d have noticed his crows, when he thought about it. No one had noticed his summons before… but Sakura was cut from a different cloth. And he had to admit that he’d spied on her rather a lot.  

Itachi’s mind scrambled to reassess. Alright, so if Sakura knew that he’d been spying on her… then it would be pointless to lie about it. Should he make any obvious omissions, she’d know he had cheated the control of the edo tensei, and then… well, he wasn’t sure what would happen then, but he wasn’t keen on finding out. He knew Sakura despised liars.

 Best keep his cards close to his chest for now.

And so he kept talking for a long time, revealing all he knew about her, just on the off chance that she’d managed to track each and every instance of his spying. He didn’t think he’d ever spoken for so long uninterrupted. He was long past the point of Sasuke’s defection – and still he was speaking of all the observations he’d made of Sakura. Ino’s eyes were as wide as saucers by this point, but Sakura seemed unruffled still.

He surprised himself with how much he actually remembered. His typical disinterest in people not of his close circle resulted in his brain deleting all information about them. Sakura was not of his close circle; he’d never even met her.   He had only spied on Sakura as a way to pass the time and help his mind unwind after a long day of stress – like he had used to spy on Sasuke, back before his defection. 

But the point was, he hadn’t treated Sakura like an assignment. She’d been more like a sleep aid. He had never used his sharingan to memorize any of the things she did… he hadn’t even cared that much, treating her like a prt he was fond of, especially when she was younger. He’d grown more invested as she aged and became someone worthy of respect in her own right, and yet, even all the menial details of her uninteresting childhood came to him, a torrent of words flowing past his mouth like a waterfall, as if someone else had taken possession of his body.

It felt almost like an out of body experience, forcing himself to remember all those fond moments, but at the same time, acting as if he didn’t care about any of it.

“H-how…?”  Sakura asked in the end. She’d stumbled over her words a little there – finally, a moment of weakness.

Still, Itachi was taken aback by her question. How? Obviously, she knew how he’d spied on her, since she’d caught him at it, or she wouldn’t have looked so unsurprised a moment ago. She probably meant to ask why instead. He supposed he’d be wondering the same thing, if he were in her place.

“You were my brother’s teammate,” Itachi  said, finally feeling at ease now that he could just lie.

Sakura shook her head to clear in that typical way she did when she didn’t understand someone at all. Itachi almost smiled as he remembered that quirk she had.

“I order you to tell me why you know about me in such detail,” Sakura said, folding her arms together authoritatively. “Leave nothing out.”

His mirth vanished immediately. Don’t take that tone with me, he wanted to snap.

It was ludicrous to be offended she’d address him so rudely when they’d never even spoken before, but somehow, she was like a close friend to him, and it hurt to be so painfully reminded that no, the feeling was not mutual.

“I was ill,” he gritted out. “I considered kidnapping you to force you to heal me.” Another lie. He would have never done anything to hurt her, but it was easy to lash out now.

Sakura stilled. “And? Why didn’t you?” She didn’t phrase it like a question, she was so indifferent.

“It became unnecessary. Sasuke sought me out before I became terminal,” Itachi replied, forcing his voice to match hers in tone. They may as well be discussing the weather right now.

“Had he not… sought you out when he did, you’d have kidnapped me?” Sakura clarified.

“I intended for Sasuke to kill me,” Itachi replied stonily.

Sakura shook her head in that way of hers again. “What would you have done with me?”

“Forced you to heal me,” Itachi lied at once. His prompt reply shocked him. He’d never meant to kidnap her, yet… the thought of her healing him had been so pervasive towards the end… He forced his mind back on track, back on his act. “Then – I’m not sure. Either killed you, if you proved too much of a nuisance. Otherwise, I’d have let Sasuke rescue you.”

It was so easy to slip back into  his persona… it almost felt comforting to put some distance between them. Uchiha Itachi, the mass murderer psychopath, was untouchable. Itachi, the man who couldn’t sleep unless he vicariously followed Haruno Sakura’s life through a jutsu, was not.

“You already had a plan in place, didn’t you?” Ino cut in accusingly. “A plan to kidnap Sakura?”

Itachi regarded her cooly. Her accusation angered him. No. I would have never, how dare you?

“I had plans for most occurrences,” he replied impassively.

Sakura uneasily twisted a stray thread inside her sleeve, another one of her fidget-quirks. This was so nostalgic… “Alright,” Sakura said. “And what will you do if I bring you back? Will you try to kill me or Ino? Or harm us? Answer honestly.”

Itachi paused thoughtfully. “I do not know.” Judging by her phrasing… by bring back… could she really mean genuinely bringing him back? As in… back to… life?

“Don’t you care about Sasuke?” Ino’s voice shook him out of his reverie.

“This would be your chance to make nice with your baby brother.”

Itachi’s lip curled in irritation at the blonde. Why did Sakura have to bring that girl along for this? He tried to gather himself; figure out what he wanted to ask, before making a fool out of himself. “Haruno-san, I believe my answer hinges on your answer to a question of mine.”

Sakura tipped her chin at him. “Ask away.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Hopefully, if  he gave her a vague question like this, she would elaborate a little, and he’d get a clearer picture as to what exactly her idea of ‘bringing him back’ entailed.

Sakura tilted her head, exposing the column of her neck to him. “Why?” she asked softly. “For having stalked me so dedicatedly, you ask the most stupid questions, Itachi.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Illuminate me then, please.”

“It’s a gift.”

This woman…

“A gift?” he repeated. “A gift to whom? My brother?”

“Your brother, Naruto, Kakashi… my shishou… Ino, of course…” Sakura sighed, turning to stare at the night sky outside. “They’ve all lost so much, it has nearly – no, it has broken them. Since you spent so much time stalking us with your crows, I’m guessing you know about Kakashi’s constant visits to the graveyard, or shishou’s drinking problems, or Naruto’s…” she trailed off.

“Yes,” Itachi said quietly, with regret. “I do know.”

“Then? Why ask?”

“Because it has nothing to do with you, Haruno Sakura.” Itachi stared her down as he finally understood the magnitude of what Sakura had done – was doing right now. That crazy woman did it. She’d found the key to immortality. And she was planning to use it to bring back all those her loved ones had lost. She didn’t say she was planning to bring back her own loved ones. (Good, he was happy that  the Harunos were all doing well, then.) But more importantly – didn’t Sakura realize how risky this was? She’d be putting herself in grave danger.

He couldn't allow her to go through with this.

Itachi inhaled.

Sakura…

“Why devote – what I imagine must have been many years and much risk – to doing something no one expects of you?” he asked, hoping he sounded reasonable… for a mass murderer, anyway. “Arguably, something many wouldn’t even want you to?”

“I just told you, it’s my gift to them,” Sakura repeated, removing her hand from her sleeve to scratch her head. “Bring Kakashi’s dad back to him… Kakashi’s mom… Naruto’s mom and dad… Sasuke’s… Tsunade-shishou’s little  brother, Nawaki… the Uchiha children which you unfairly killed… the Uzumaki which were massacred in the fall of Uzushio… none of them deserved to die. It’s been one tragedy after another. If I have the power to wipe the slate, why shouldn’t I?”

Itachi shook his head slowly. She was rubbing off on him – he normally didn’t emote whatsoever in his body language. “Nothing good can come of playing with the dead. Things happen for a reason.”

She didn’t seem to hear a word.

They argued back and forth, and though he’d set out to protect her, somehow, Itachi ended  up agreeing to everything she wanted instead. For every argument he’d given her, she’d parried with outrageous answers that somehow involved resurrecting even more people they definitely shouldn’t…

…but he had had a weak spot for Haruno Sakura for many years, and perhaps it wasn’t the wisest course of action, but talking to her made him want to try it.  Made him want to try to live. Made him want to lend her a hand… or a shovel.

Well, what’s one more sin at the end of the list? He thought. For as long as he could remember, he had sullied his katana in place of others. At least in this case, he genuinely would feel better doing something despicable, even if it was just so that Sakura didn’t have to.

She had already dirtied her own hands enough. It was for the best that he took over the more unsavory aspects of the resurrecting-people job. He didn’t like the mental image of Sakura digging around at eerie graveyards. He didn’t want her anywhere near carcasses and remains. She was so full of life, she should be doing something else. Something that would preferably serve as an alibi so that no one could accuse her of being the one behind those resurrections.

It was clear from the amount of thought she must have put  into this that she intended to go through her plan no matter what. He supposed that if he had managed to find the key to immortality, he’d want to test it as well. So, if this was going to happen no matter what… then he wanted to be there along for the ride. He had to be.

And so he agreed to.

ITACHI

Chapter Text

ONE year TEN months Before YANAGI

Since the day she’d punched Tobirama into a wall, their relationship had improved… marginally. They still fought most of the time, but they didn’t break any other walls, which was surprising. The small concessions they’d given each other on the night they’d fought had helped. Tobirama seemed less high strung now that he was allowed to leave the lab at will (not that he did so very often) and Sakura was pleased he seemed to be making an effort not to judge her or Ino for their clothing choices. (She was rather relieved to be able to go back to her old outfits.) Another upside was that he’d stopped bitching about her menstruation diary. He’d even somewhat cut down on the snippy comments about butchers – whenever Itachi was within hearing range, at least. On her part, he had asked her to be less judgy about his being from another time, so she was making… a token effort, at least.

Tobirama’s arrogance, which was what had most irritated her about him, if she were honest, was unsurprising, if she considered the circumstances of his life. The Second Hokage had never married nor had kids, so he’d never had anyone around who would treat him like an equal after Hashirama’s death. It may sound dramatic, but Sakura knew first hand how people pandered to whoever was the Hokage. She was pr had been a close confidante of two of them. At least her shishou had had Shizune and Sakura around, as well as sometimes Naruto, Jiraiya and Kakashi, to interact with her like she was normal. Kakashi had team seven, and Gai, some of his old ANBU pals and even his ninken…

But Tobirama? During his tenure, he’d had no close family left… Sakura had no problem imagining him languishing away for decades, interacting only with brown-nosing suck-ups all day, every day. It wasn’t an excuse for his attitude, but at least it explained his behavior a little. She even felt a little bad for provoking him as she had. He should at least be given a grace period to readjust from being the unquestioned authority in Konoha.

No doubt, the nidaime had done some good things for the village (even if he’d also screwed up a lot), but what was clear was his time as Hokage hadn’t done him any good, Sakura reflected.

She tried to at least keep this in mind whenever a new argument began.

“We need to work on understanding why what I did before generated so much radioactivity in the first place,” she would tell him.

“Well, it seems obvious that you made a mistake in invoking the activation energy,” Tobirama would reply.

“You don’t know that.”

“Haruno, if your approach is the correct one, and it generated that much radioactivity, then this whole plan of yours is already doomed. Luckily for you, I’m sure your approach was wrong.”

“Look nidaime , I don’t care what you think, I just need to understand why that explosion happened, and how to get around it next time.”

“There is no way to get around death by radioactivity unless you go back to the drawing board and start from scratch.”

“Yes, there is!”

“Haruno, overwhelming amounts of radiation will destroy your body on the cellular level. That is a fact. If the explosion had released as much radiation as you claim, you wouldn’t be here anymore.”

“And you think I don’t know that? I’ve been researching this since I was sixteen!” she would snap at him.

“Then you should know that the thing which kills you first is central nervous system failure. You will not be able to breathe eventually and die in the situation you described occurred – tons and tons of radiation at once. It's a miracle that poisonous radiation cloud didn’t leak from your lab during any of your prior experiments. If Hatake hadn’t made those wards as sturdy as they are–”

“I already know that. But luckily, those wards were in place, and they are sturdy, so…”

“I would still feel better if you allowed me to improve upon them.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Because I said so.”

“Will you  stop being so childish?”

Many times, their arguments would devolve like this, often ending in Tobirama’s crusade to get his hands on her wards – and her constant refusals to let him alter them. She’d let him fix the ones Kakashi had built, but that was about as far as her trust in him went. She already had enough anxiety with Itachi having (most probably) broken free from the edo tensei, even if they got along. She did not need the nidaime somehow tricking her with his fuinjutsu wards.

When they weren’t arguing about the wards, they were arguing about the explosion that had nearly killed her, or just radiactivity in general.

“Haruno. Do you even understand what you’re telling me? You’re clearly mistaken about the amount of radioactivity generated by the explosion because if you weren’t, you’d be dead–”

“Look, Tobirama. I’m gonna explain it to you since you’re clearly behind on the science. I assume you’re familiar with jules and kilograms?”

“Sage, Haruno. Yes, I know what a kilogram is. Yes, I know the community here measures radiation in units of Joules per kilograms deposited, a unit which you’ve called Gray. You don’t  need to treat me like an idiot, thank you very much.”

“Well, if you act like a rock, then who am I to treat you otherwise?”

“You’re the rock if you keep claiming you were exposed to fourty-two grey. I’ve been reading up on this topic and I know what dose of radiation a human could survive and which dose one couldn’t. Something you apparently don’t seem to grasp. What you’re claiming you were exposed to–”

“Grasp? Grasp? Listen to me, Rocky. I am the woman who wrote whatever expert books you’ve read on the subject. I defied the theory and paved my own way. Radioactivity isn’t always lethal. There are plenty of diagnostic medical procedures like chest x-ray, CT and mammograms which require exposing the patient to radioactivity–”

“All of which which are in the microgray to mili-gray range. Yes, I looked into it.”

“Well, cancer treatment is in the many centigray range per day, five days per week,” she snapped. “So excuse you.”

“Those still aren’t such big doses.”

“Okay, you want big doses? Let’s talk big doses– in the case of a civilian, one to two Gray would probably not harm them very badly aside from raising their risk of developing cancer in ten years. Four to six Grays will start to destroy their digestive system but with medical care even a civilian will make it out alive, and more so a ninja.”

“Their blood would–” the nidaime began.

“Yes, their blood  would be affected the most, but like I said, if they’re kept in a sterile environment and don't get sick they can survive,” Sakura snapped impatiently. “Now eight to twelve Grays, yes, that is somewhere in the lethal range and above – anybody is gonna have a bad time if exposed. They will vomit, have diarrhea, and dry up. The body can't absorb water and nutrients when your small intestines aren't working. This is the worst way to go. Over fifteen Gray and the person would be a goner from acute radiation sickness.”

“Haruno, you’re only confirming my point. You’ve just told me you were exposed to forty two Gray radiation during the explosion. Do I need to repeat how ridiculous a claim that is? Just admit that you were wrong.”

“If you’d just let me get to the point instead of interrupting me, I’d already be done proving you wrong !” she would snap. “Look, nidaime, since you clearly aren’t receptive to listening like an adult, we’ll go the little kid route. I’ll tell you a story.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “I don’t think a story will add anything relevant to the discussion at hand, Haruno–”

“There was once a Sound double agent that was deep undercover in enemy territory,” she began, talking over him. “This happened back when Orochimaru was still very much relevant and a threat – almost two decades ago. Anyway, he ingested coffee with radioactive polonium and he got the eight to twelve Gray range dose in his belly and died a slow death. I don't remember his name but he basically called out Kabuto’s involvement with what would later become the Konoha Crush and Kabuto eliminated him before he could make waves. He passed of starvation in his deathbed. But! And here’s the important part – after hearing about this case, and how this type of poisoning was becoming more widespread, I started investigating how to cure someone of such an exposure, and I made a great deal of headway into the matter.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s true! ” she snapped. “I would have been able to cure that guy if it happened today! I know I would!”

“Haruno. You don’t know how much radiation you ended up getting exposed to during that explosion.” Tobirama crossed his arms and shook his head at her. “In fact, no one knows, because all your machinery imploded from it. What we do know, however, is that it wasn’t forty two Grays, no matter what those ridiculous anti-radiation seals on the wall said. You wouldn’t have survived forty-two Grays radiation and that is a fact . The technique couldn’t have generated forty-two Grays radiation per my calculations and that is also a fact .”

“Yada yada, that is a fact , I’m so smart the sun shines down from my ass and that is also a fact ,” she mimicked him with an ugly voice.

“ Haruno –”

“I’m not the one saying random bullshit is a fact! Just accept that I know more than you about this topic, Tobirama! The fucking seals on the wall are the ones who were there, not you! I was there, not you, and that is a fact!”

“The seals on the wall could have been there or at the north pole for all I care, if they gave that reading then they were defective. And that’s a fact . You couldn’t have generated forty-two Grays with a single technique–”

“Oh, for the love that all that is bloody, nidaime, will you just listen to me and believe what I’m telling you for once?”

“I am listening. I’m just saying it’s not plausible. If you want me to believe you, then start making sense, Haruno.”

“Do you need me to show you my research then?”

“I know what research you’re talking about, I’ve read it, but it has less than even a hundred citations so I don’t know how much credibility–”

“Oh, for the  love of–! It doesn’t have more citations because I published it before learning how things work in the research community! Without the backing of a strong group that cites each other, it’s almost impossible to get that many citations!”

“If anyone discovered something as groundbreaking as what you claim you discovered, then allow me to say that you would most certainly have more citations.”

“This was the first project I worked on, I was sixteen, I had no credibility, and I had alienated all the big research groups that were working on radioactivity at the time because I’d foolishly looked down on their work. I didn’t have the backing of the power players, my article was  lacking in physico-mathematical rigor, none of my colleagues wanted to see me succeed, and no one could prove I was right because they didn’t have the chakra control for it – but I was right . The techniques I invented check out .”

“Really now? And why aren’t they more widespread then?”

“It’s just they were so new and strange, no one really knew what to make of it, plus, I just told you they require an amount of control that wouldn’t be applicable by ordinary medics. That’s why my article never made it made it that far terms of citations, but I did it. I fixed the radiation issue. More or less. ”

Tobirama just shook his head. “If you had truly found the way to cure patients ailing of exposure to such high radiation doses, Haruno, then I dare say that would’ve made headlines. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“But I do it! It’s just that that type of poisoning which that guy got isn’t so frequent, and I couldn’t exactly expose someone to it just to prove I could heal them. But  what happened a month ago proved it. My body was so used to fighting radiation due to my research that I survived that explosion, and not only that, I survived virtually unscathed.”

“Haruno,” Tobirama sighed. “Look. I can believe that you may have been able to develop some immunity to radiation, but what you’re suggesting you did is preposterous–”

In this way, they would  spend hours upon hours arguing back and forth, neither of them getting anywhere in convincing the other.

Is this what people feel when they get into a scientific argument with me? That they’re standing in front of an insurmountable wall?

Because it’s really goddamn annoying.

Sakura sighed, stepping into the kitchen to brew some tea for herself after yet another long round of debating over stupid shit with Tobirama. She needed a break or the man would drive her insane, and he clearly did too, because he’d yet again used his Hiraishin to disappear on her.

They hadn’t really insulted each other since the wall fiasco, merely limiting to just argue back and forth without end, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t trying on her patience. Sometimes, they’d get on each other’s nerves to such an extent that Tobirama would just… close his eyes and then disappear with the Hiraishin, staying away from the lab for hours.

Sakura had caught herself wondering more than once where he went whenever she drove him up the wall – possibly to the forest? Elsewhere? She hadn’t really given him any restrictions, but sometimes she worried anyway. The incident where she’d punched him into the wall still bothered her. She couldn’t look at that wall anymore without feeling ashamed. She hadn’t even apologized, and – she… well, she didn’t know if she should or not, but she kept thinking about it.

When the water finished boiling, she dropped the tea inside and waited for it to be ready, sitting on the kitchen counter as she did. She’d just pulled her book out – and had started to make some edits to the most recent chapter – when the kitchen door creaked slightly.

She glanced up and saw Tobirama. He hadn’t been gone long, this time.

Sakura awkwardly returned to her book, figuring he wouldn’t want to talk to her after their most recent row, and instead limited to staring at her book while he went about preparing himself some tea of his own – jasmine.

“You know, I can make tea for you next time,” she offered. “It feels kinda stupid to always boil the water  twice.”

They were both avid tea consumers and sometimes had to wait in line for the other to be done using the tea pot – which seemed rather childish, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it until now.

Tobirama gave her something like a smile – for his standards, anyway – and added the jasmine leaves to the boiling water. “It’s alright. I know you don’t like the taste of jasmine.”

Sakura cocked her head. “How would you know what tea blends I like?”

“You’d barely touched the jasmine box out of all the ones you keep in here. Lucky for you, it’s my favorite.”

She shrugged, dangling her legs from the counter and closing her book as she did. “I like to sample tea blends.”

He glanced at her, amused. “I gathered.”

She squinted at him, nonplused by his good mood. They’d just been in a radioactivity-related insult match five minutes ago.

He returned to his jasmine tea, stirring it absently, while she tried to figure him out.

When he was done, he poured the jasmine tea into his favorite green cup and retreated from the stove and leaned against the wall, opposite her, if slightly to the side, right next to the kitchen door.

She kicked her legs for a moment longer, then gathered her nerve.

“Uh. Tobirama?”

He glanced up from his tea and to her.

“Sorry for punching you into a wall the other day.”

She’d expected him to scoff, or tell her a macho like him hadn’t even felt her punch, or that it had happened ages ago already and why was she still thinking about it, but just he inclined his head.

“It was well deserved.”

Sakura cracked a smile, then quickly bit it back. “Yeah, well… maybe, but I think I overreacted a bit. About what you said.”

“You didn’t overreact. I was out of line.”

She sipped at her tea for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. He’d said she was dressed like a harlot, but to be honest… that… hadn’t actually been the thing that had really bothered her. Any scientist knew it was a bad idea to wear a short skirt to the lab, even if her being a medic made it into a mute point. They didn’t really argue because of that. It was something more than what they’d said, but acknowledging that the dispute went beyond the words spoken would make the problem more real.

It was hard to figure out what to tell him, when truthfully, she also thought he’d been wrong to say she was dressed like a harlot, whatever the circumstances, but she also didn’t want to start another fight. Eventually, she just came up with: “I guess everyone in this time must dress pretty differently than what you’re used to, huh?”

“If it was just the clothes, I dare say we wouldn’t be here,” Tobirama replied, after a moment of silence.

Sakura nodded slowly, glancing at her lap. So he understood as well. It wasn’t really about the clothes.

“I was annoyed at you because you wouldn’t let me read your research.” Tobirama’s voice cut through the silence.

Sakura glanced up at him, then down again. “I thought you read it the first time we met.”

He sighed. “You know which one I mean, Haruno. The research that’s written in code.”

“Oh. You mean my menstruation diary.”

Her excuses to get him to stop asking about her Mokuton research may or may not have gotten a bit out of hand.

He gave her a look. “Your obvious ploy to get me to stop asking about it didn’t work, in case you were wondering. I know it’s not a…” he coughed, “a menstruation diary.”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. “Yes, go on, Tobirama. You can say it. The words aren’t contagious.”

He gave her a pinched expression at that. “Don’t, Haruno. I know what you’re doing. If you think sprinkling in menstruation comments will make me drop the subject–”

“Past evidence suggests it works.”

“Haruno.”

“What? You left me alone after the five minute presentation I gave you on my menstrual habits.”

“Which I’m sure you didn’t make up to annoy me.”

“I take my menstrual flow very seriously.”

Tobirama sighed. “I left you alone because I figured it wasn’t any of my business if you went to such lengths to get me to back off. But, I felt it was necessary to explain why I was so incensed that day.”

She frowned at him. Sighed. “Why do you care so much? You don’t even know what it’s about.”

“It clearly concerns the research we’re doing, so why can’t you just show me?”

Sakura bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but I… if I explained why, you’d guess immediately what the research is.”

Tobirama frowned at her. “So it’s something I wouldn’t like.”

Sakura paused to think about it. Tough question. Would he like discovering that she’d gone so deep into the rabbit hole that was the Mokuton? That she was trying to find a way to use the Mokuton in order to create perfect resurrections? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know him well enough to predict how he’d react. Most people from clans were always so touchy about their bloodline limits… But then again, if she found a way to bring back his family, presumably, he’d like it.

“I… I don’t know how you’d react,” she said eventually. “I… I’ll tell you if it works out. But until then, please just let me… figure this out on my own.”

“That’s not very encouraging, Haruno. What exactly are you experimenting with?”

“It’s… well, I can’t tell you. But, mastering this thing… it’s something that hinges on great chakra control, so you couldn’t really help me even if told you what it is.”

“I have great chakra control,” Tobirama said, sounding miffed.

She smirked, amused, despite herself. “Uh-huh. For jonin standards, sure.”

He took another sip of his tea-cup and closed his eyes. “You know, you can’t tell me it’s such a big deal and then not own up about what the research is.”

She grimaced, but hid it with her own teacup. “Look, you  want me to succeed, right? Then – just let me do my thing. All I can tell you about it is that I’m working on a way to reach the activation energy necessary to restore someone dead to life. The – spirit – I think you called it in your notes.”

He frowned. “The same thing that caused the explosion last time.”

“Yeah,” she allowed.

“Haruno…”

“If you’re gonna start yapping about it not being feasible, please wait until I’ve finished my tea, at least. I’m taking a break here,” Sakura interrupted.

He closed his mouth and scoffed. “I was just going to tell you that if you let me change the wards, you could experiment more safely… in case there’s another explosion.”

Sakura frowned, glancing down to her own teacup again. “I’ll think about it,” she muttered. “But no promises.”

Tobirama seemed pleased by this. “Good. I’ll start working on a prototype. Can you give me an estimate on the chakra-frequencies of the explosion?”

“I said I’d think about it,” she griped. “No need to get ahead of yourself.”

“And I said I’d make a prototype while you think about it.”

She sighed. “Look, the explosion last time was so bad, there’s no way a fuinjutsu barrier could withstand it. You wouldn’t be able to come up with anything.”

“Won’t you at least let me try to design something?”

Sakura took another sip. “Fine.” She sighed. “But, if I let you mess with the wards… I mean, don’t add anything that isn’t strictly necessary for protection. No tricks or anything.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “What tricks would I even add?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure you know a whole bunch of them, though.”

“Haruno. Do you think I spend my time coming up with party tricks to annoy you with?”

“I don’t mean party tricks and you know it.” She glared at him. “Look. Just draw the most powerful barrier you know and maybe it’ll be enough, if I mess up.”

After that conversation in the kitchen, they’d stopped arguing as much as before, some of the tension gone. Tobirama seemed to have accepted that no, she was not going to let him read her menstruation diary anytime soon, and as for Sakura… it had sort of sunk in that he was there to stay. And that he may even be able to actually help, if they could put his fuinjutsu knowledge to good use.

He'd jumped into the whole revamping her seals thing with more enthusiasm than she’d expected, and whenever she’d asked what a certain seal did, he was willing enough to explain it, even going on long tangents about how all the seals interacted together at times – though she understood next to nothing about his waffling, she sort of got the impression that he wasn’t lying.

He was a ninja, though, and a damn good one, so her gut feeling didn’t count for much, she reckoned.

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t glad for the respite. Now that Tobirama was busy with the seals, he spent a lot less time interrogating her about her project, or what she was hiding. She could actually work in the lab without the need for sneaking about out of sight or having to practice her new energy gathering jutsu in the shower.

For the most part, they coexisted by ignoring each other, which was just fine by her. And they’d stopped standing in line in front of the tea kettle like two idiots – merely boiling the total amount both of them wanted from the beginning.

The moments waiting by the kettle were perhaps the calmest between them. Sakura knew for a fact Tobirama could boil water with a twitch of his finger, if he wanted to (having seen him do it plenty of times), but he didn’t boil it like that when they had to wait in front of the tea pot. Perhaps he also appreciated the respite that the kitchen granted them from the lab proper. It was as if they’d made a pact not to argue about  anything as long as tea was in the equation. The kitchen was a time out of sorts. Once they exited it, all bets were up, but while inside the kitchen… they didn’t pick any fights with each other.

After two weeks straight of no incidents while they stood around together in the kitchen, Sakura had armed her courage and decided to ask Tobirama a question that had been plaguing her, and which only he could answer.

“Tobirama.”

He glanced at her from his spot next to the door.

Usually, they were quiet in the kitchen, and she hated to break it… but she wasn’t attempting to pick a fight. Hopefully he wouldn’t think she was.

When he didn’t say anything, just looked at her, she hesitantly began: “For the past weeks… well, actually, since the, uh, punch incident, I’ve been wondering about something… I think you may be able to help.”

“If it’s anything related to how hard you can punch me before I dissolve for good, desist.”

Sakura blinked at Tobirama for a moment, unsure if he’d made a joke or if he was serious.

“Uh… no, I wouldn’t punch again. I apologized for that!”

“I accept your proposal to spar, no need to be flustered.”

Spar? No! She didn’t want to spar with him! That was about the last thing she wanted!

“No, no, that’s really not! I don’t want to, I mean–”

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Haruno. I wouldn’t mind sparring with you.”

“I don’t want to spar, though I appreciate the thought–”

“Please. I’ll go easy on you, if you’re that worried.”

Sakura gaped at him in mortification, then noticed he was smirking slightly, which told her he apparently had been pulling her leg.

“I don’t want to spar.”

He arched a brow. “Don’t you?”

“Why would you think I do?”

“You seem to enjoy maiming the Hokage.”

Pressing her lips together in what definitely wasn’t a pout, she glared at him. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. I actually have a serious question I meant to ask you.”

He leaned back into his wall, still looking amused. “Alright. What is it?”

Do you think it will cause problems, once we resurrect everyone?” she asked, a little nervously. “Will… everyone else from your time react like you did? I mean, a lot of girls in this time dress in a way that I think would be… inappropriate for your era.”

What she didn’t outright say, but meant to ask, was: will they think all the women of the present sluts? Will they degrade us and treat us like all we’re good for is to breed children and wash dishes?

  “It’s… hard to say,” Tobirama mused, circling the rim of the teacup with his index finger as if in deep thought. “There probably will be a clash of cultures, if you bring such a high number of people back.”

Sakura nodded, sighing. She felt ridiculous for having failed to consider this before, but… would resurrecting the founders actually be bad for women, as a whole? Would it lead to a return of the old belief system? 

Sakura frowned, dragging a hand through her hair in displeasure. “Are you sure you aren’t more stubborn than an average person from your time?”

“I assure you, there isn’t a single person from my time that wouldn’t look at a woman wearing a skirt that shows her legs and not think something I’d best not repeat,” Tobirama said.

“But what’s so bad about dressing less conservatively?” Sakura pressed. “Surely your contemporaries would realize how silly it is to judge someone for that!”

“I could ask you the same question,” Tobirama replied. “Why do the women of this time insist on showing off their legs to the whole world? Clearly, they’re doing it to increase their sex appeal, as it certainly isn’t very practical to avoid injuries and sunburn. If you dress to increase your sex appeal, then be prepared to be called things related to that.”

“What kind of logic is that?” Sakura asked. “Why does everything in this world have to be about sex? Why can’t we just wear shorts without it meaning anything?”

“Because it is human nature to care about what others think. Presentation is a reflection of that, ergo when we dress a certain way, we are taking into account how that will reflect on us. Setting your odd crusade aside, most women who dress provocatively aren’t  exactly doing so  in order to impress other women.”

“They just want to look good!” Sakura protested.

“Good according to what? If they insist on conforming to the male standards of what looks ‘good’–”

“It’s the whole society’s standard!” Sakura countered. She walked over to the small cooking station in the room next to her lab and began to make another batch of tea – for later. Tobirama followed her silently, as if awaiting her reply.

“So then you’re admitting that women let men influence them into thinking a skimpy outfit is the best way to go, fully aware that it is provocative.”

“Okay, when did I say that?” she said. “Even assuming a woman is dressing in a provocative way because she wants to look good to a man, which for the record, I’m not saying that’s the case – but is that really such a criminal offense?” Sakura rounded back to look at him. “It’s human nature to want to look good! Men are always trying to compete with each other over who holds more status, or who owns the nicest sword, for the same reasons. A lot of guys think that having more muscles will get them noticed by girls, yet you don’t see society shaming guys who show off their muscles by walking around in sleeveless shirts.”

Tobirama frowned, regarding her from his spot across from her, leaning against the doorframe, whereas she braced on the kitchenette counter.

“I personally don’t like men who try to show off to women either,” Tobirama said eventually.

“Okay, because you’re a stick in the mud,” Sakura replied.

“Oi.”

“My point is that society at large doesn’t frown on a man who, I don’t know, sleeps with a lot of women. His friends will probably congratulate him, even. Yet if a woman sleeps with a lot of men, she’s an easy woman, or she’s earned all her accomplishments on her back, or whatever.”

“Well, there are a lot of geisha who would complete their mission on their backs,” Tobirama said.

Sakura threw her hands up in the air. “You’re missing the point!”

“What is the point then?”

“The point is that you shouldn’t shame women for that!” Sakura exclaimed.

“But I’m not. There’s nothing shameful about completing a mission with a minimal amount of kills,” Tobirama said, crossing his arms as he leaned further against the doorframe. “If you ask me, seduction is one of the most efficient ways to get things done without bloodshed.”

“Okay, then that’s your opinion, but why do people in general shame women for using seduction as a tool?” Sakura asked, putting her hands on her hips. “If it’s so efficient, why don’t kunoichi or geisha or whatever get praised for being able to complete missions without bloodshed? Why do female ninja have to hide that they accept seduction missions? Why is it such a taboo?”

“I suppose that it’s a question of respect, when it comes down to it,” Tobirama said thoughtfully. “For women, sex has always been riskier than for a man, since it could lead to a pregnancy, which in turn could lead to either their death via childbirth or to a further economical burden in the form of a child. It isn’t a decision one should make lightly – bringing a new life to this world. Since it’s the woman that ends up with the child inside of her, it’s easy for the man to use her and leave. That means that a woman who sells her body to numerous men essentially doesn’t respect herself enough to have standards for who she’d have a child with. In this world, if you don’t respect yourself, no one else will.”

Sakura pursed her lips. “Well, maybe she doesn’t have a choice but to sell her body!”

“I didn’t say she did,” Tobirama replied. “I’m just explaining the mechanism that leads to the stigmatization of easy women.”

“The mechanism is that men call the shots so they shame women as a way to control them,” Sakura said, crossing her arms.

“That doesn’t add up. It’s not just the men doing the shaming,” Tobirama replied. “Back in my clan, regular women would be the first to shame prostitutes. I find it’s an ingrained behavior for most people.”

Sakura folded her arms over her chest. “Why are we even discussing prostitution now? I thought we were talking about clothes.”

Tobirama gave a shrug. “Conversations are like living creatures sometimes.”

“Whatever,” Sakura said, but couldn’t help but agree. It was a cool analogy. Still, she was trying to make a point here. “Look, prostitution aside, can’t you at last see the logic in what I’m saying? How unfair that type of bias against women is?” 

“Yes, I can see it, but why are you so worried?” Tobirama said, tapping a pattern against the hardwood floor of the doorframe with his fingers. “From what I’ve seen, your standing in Konoha society is iron clad, so you’d be of the least affected if things changed. By the way, the water is ready, Haruno.”

Sakura sighed, irritated, and turned to pour tea into the boiling water. “I would be affected, but that’s irrelevant. I don’t want things to change. There’s enough prejudice now as it is. I don’t want to invite even more of it upon our village. I’m just hoping that if I can convince you not to have such stigma against women, maybe the rest of your contemporaries could be convinced too.”

“Who said I have a stigma against them?” Tobirama asked, making a face like a displeased cat. “And I doubt it. Maybe you could sway some of the younger people to be more accepting of the way things are in this time, but the elders?”

“I’m not bringing the elders back,” Sakura groused.

“As if that would solve the issue. The role of women in the community is  only one in many discrepancies between our two cultures.”

Great. Sakura irritably poured the tea into two cups and rounded to face him. Brusquely, she pressed one of the cups into his chest. Tobirama accepted it with a surprised glance.

“You should try this flavor,” she said. “You don’t have to always drink the tea I don’t like.”

Leaning back against the counter, Sakura began to sip her tea in silence.

“Ginger,” Tobirama remarked appreciatively, taking a sip as well.

 “Yeah,” Sakura said.

They lapsed into silence after that. Sakura wasn’t in the mood to continue arguing with the nidaime, who, as per usual, was infuriating, and the man didn’t seem to be in any hurry to rekindle the conversation either. Their discussion had been pretty civil compared to their usual arguments, though. More like a debate than anything.

The power of tea prevails, Sakura reflected.

Her mind wandered back to the topic they’d debated over . She didn’t need the nidaime to tell her that a guy like Madara, for instance, was a sexist. Most likely, all of the men from that time period were. It was sobering to realize that in bringing them all back, she may be curing her precious people of their heart ache, but she certainly wouldn’t be doing any favors to herself.

With how famous the founders were, it was possible that they’d influence the rest of the village into adopting their belief system, especially the impressionable younger people. Their presence could very well lead to a regression in many things. Women’s rights being the one that would affect Sakura most. Clannism was something else that worried her. Civilians were already discriminated against as it was, as were civilian born ninja. If she brought all of these warring states folks back, what would that mean for Konoha’s civilians? Wasn’t it selfish to make such a decision?

Before she knew it, she’d finished her ginger tea. She sighed, moving to place the cup in the sink. Across from her, Tobirama copied her, and their eyes met for a second before Sakura sighed and stretched slightly. “It’s late. I’m going home.”

Tobirama nodded. “I’ll stay here then.”

Sakura nodded, carefully lowering the teacup in the sink. Really, if she hadn’t been meaning to get back to work, she could have just had tea at home, but somehow, she was happy she’d had it here instead.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind discussing women’s rights with you again, if you have some time,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “And are willing to listen.”

Tobirama followed her silently out of the kitchen door. “It’s interesting to see how women have changed since my time,” he said in a quiet voice. “I like it.”

Sakura smiled and strode towards the door. “See you tomorrow, Tobirama.”

As the door closed behind him, she heard his usual “See you tomorrow, Sakura.”

Well, usually, he said Haruno.

ONE year TEN months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ITACHI

Itachi had never felt so fortunate before. Well, he supposed, technically, that feeling fortunate in his case wouldn't actually be a hard thing to achieve – his life was a series of misfortunes all stacked together. Most little things would make him feel fortunate. But now… now it seemed as if there were major things that filled his soul with awe, and it was all thanks to one person.

Haruno Sakura.

Despite clearly stating that she disliked him during their initial meeting, she had shown him great kindness and treated him with respect. He imagined Naruto (or Sasuke, though that was doubtful) must have filled her in on the “tea” about him. He had regretted having avoided her so auspiciously before. During his original life, he’d gone out of his way so as not to cross paths with her. He had never liked harming women or children, and, though he’d proven time and time again that he could get over his own reservations just fine, Sakura had been the one spot of light at the end of his long, dreadful days.

He didn’t want his small moments of calm to be ruined. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach the guilt if he’d ended up running into her in a battlefield and had gotten forced to hurt her. So he’d been extremely careful never to cross paths with her. And yet, those last few moments, when he’d been dying, well, he had been rather preoccupied with other things, but he remembered sparing a stray thought for her, he remembered wishing… wishing she were there with him.

He had wished so often that she would heal him… 

“You… you found a way to fix my disease?” he asked incredulously.  It had been one week since she’d resurrected him for the second time, third overall, and he was still reeling.

“I fixed your body’s genetic code,” Sakura said flippantly, while preparing herself some tea. “Once we bring you back with the Pure World Resurrection, you’ll be healthy as a horse.”

Itachi could only stare at her in fascination.

Just like that, it was snapping her fingers and there. He had his answer now. About whether or not she could have…

Living with Sakura was certainly – different, he had to admit. He’d been fascinated to step into her flat for the first time, despite feeling so tired on that first night, right after being resurrected for the third time… but walking into her space, the one he had seen so often from the eyes of a crow, it was such an experience. He would compare it to being able to explore a location only described in one’s favorite book before. In fact, everything about meeting Sakura was like that.

He had never expected to actually interact with her. He had been content just watching her, but this… it was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. You’d think knowing her so well would have given him an advantage over her, but he found it was rather the opposite. He cared about what she thought too much. This left him wrong-footed and questioning his own actions. It felt as if he’d been waiting for years and years to talk to her. Perhaps not to the younger version of this girl, but the Sakura who was right at home in her lab, the Sakura who saved lives like it was nothing, the Sakura who was so attentive to her patients and to her grandparents, in fact, so attentive to everyone around her… so loved that sometimes he had wished he was her. Now, suddenly having the chance to speak to her was so strange. He knew she had been aware he existed all this time, but her thoughts regarding him, if she had had any, had remained a mystery. Until now.

Well, they were still sort of a mystery, but at least he knew she didn’t completely hate him. He had already been aware that she liked sweets, like him, and that she had a tradition of eating them after a job well done, but it was completely different to be sitting across from her, sharing those sweets after a joint job well done (mostly involving him and digging up corpses).

He’d had to say goodbye to the small flat of Sakura’s he’d grown so fond of – the need to move being his fault. They’d determined it was best he lived in her home. He wasn’t entirely sure it was necessary – actually, he was pretty sure it was not – but when Sakura had brought it up he hadn’t seen it fit to point out that he could have easily avoided Konoha’s scrutiny even if he were to live across from the Hokage tower.

He'd felt a little guilty for keeping that to himself after the raised costs involved with the new flat became apparent – though, to be honest. Sakura was filthy rich. She’d single-handedly renovated her grandparents’ hotel and her parents’ house, as he’d discovered, plus her father’s shop, even investing in his company to expand it. All of this meant her pockets were deep. Sakura may like to act like she lived in squalor most of the time – probably following Kakashi’s example – but as a matter of fact, a slightly bigger flat likely wouldn’t even make a difference for her. 

Even knowing this, Itachi still felt guilty for making her move, so he’d tried to do nice things for her to pay her back. He would clean the house, buy groceries, and cook. Sakura had told him they could make a schedule for cooking, and that each could keep their part of the rather large flat clean, but he  had refused to budge on the cooking part. He’d told her he would take care of all their meals because she was an awful cook, which was true, but in truth he just liked it.

Kakashi had a habit of cooking for Sakura too, he’d learned – this must be a new thing from after the war – much to Itachi’s irritation. In fact, he was annoyed to discover that most people seemed to enjoy piling Sakura with food, perhaps because she smiled so contently when she was eating something she liked, or because she was always generous with her praise and appreciation of a good meal. Itachi, who had barely been praised in his life, at least not by people he respected, ate it all up rather embarrassingly.

For the most part, his coexistence with Sakura was domestic bliss. In his opinion. Not that they were a married couple, but if this was anything like what being married was like, he would have to give finding a girlfriend some serious thought after… after everyone was back.

They’d partitioned the flat with that fake wall, and technically, he was supposed to stay on the hidden side at all times, so as to avoid someone looking through the window and seeing “deceased missing nin slash murderer Uchiha Itachi just chillin’ in Sakura’s arm chair”, but actually, he just kept his shadows stationed around the house strategically so as to warn him if anyone approached and spent most of his time on Sakura’s part of the house. Well, not Sakura’s part necessarily, because she’d moved her library to the hidden area, and he would often keep her company there, too.

He simply just liked to spend time with her in the same room. Without talking.

Itachi wasn’t sure if other people talked all the time while together, but he frankly wouldn’t even know what to say to her at all. He had so many thoughts in his head he wanted to tell her, but somehow nothing came out when he actually opened his mouth to go for it. He was more comfortable watching her, like he always had. Obviously, he didn’t just stare at her, that would probably make her uncomfortable, and Itachi had promised himself a long time ago that he’d be considerate towards her, if they ever met, so he made sure to busy himself doing other things while in her presence.

He’d taken up drawing. With his new body came new eyes. Perfect eyes. Eyes that weren’t blind. A long time ago, he’d told himself that if he ever got a chance to do it all again, he’d take up drawing. Instead of immortalizing everything with the Sharingan, he’d learn to do it by hand. There was a beauty in colours he wanted to explore.

He’d mentioned it to Sakura offhandedly. He hadn’t really intended to ‘start’ drawing until all the resurrections were complete. Itachi was a firm believer in work before play. But Sakura had gotten a thoughtful look on her face that day, and two days later, after returning from work, she’d declared she had a present for him. Then she’d tossed him an old brown bag and walked off into the bathroom to take a shower… or possibly number two.

Meanwhile, Itachi was just left to stare at the brown back, which revealed itself to contain a sketchbook and water colors, as well as the pencil, pen sharpener and rubber she’d bought him. She shouldn’t have done that. He hadn’t even really meant it when he’d said he wanted to learn how to draw. It had just been an offhand comment, an old wish he kept on thinking about every now and then. Nothing real. Nothing concrete. He had just…

But he had started to practice sketching while he kept Sakura company. His hobby of choice also had the benefit of giving him the perfect excuse to watch her. She was the only person around, so of course, he had to use her as his sketch reference. It just made sense.

Sakura always laughed and scratched her cheek in embarrassment when his drawing her came up, but she would shrug and declare that if it helped him to learn, she supposed she didn’t mind. It was such a peaceful coexistence. For a year, they lived together, and for Itachi, it was the best year he’d had in… well. Best not answer that.

Yamanaka was the only one who knew he lived with Sakura. She would visit occasionally, typically with some annoying input or another. Itachi didn’t like her. She clearly didn’t like the idea of his living with Sakura, and she kept trying to drag Sakura off to do things Sakura didn’t want. If Shisui had gone around telling random girls that Itachi was interested in dating them without his consent, he’d have been furious. Sakura had clearly told Ino she didn’t want to date anyone – at least not until the project was finished – but Ino had stubbornly kept arranging ‘blind dates’ for her and would routinely guilt trip Sakura into attending them.

It was like watching a fly land on a dog dropping and then take off again, only to swerve straight into his face. He wanted the fly dead. Wait… was Sakura the dog dropping in this analogy? Well, never mind. The point was, Yamanaka got on his nerves – and apparently, it was mutual, though he didn’t do anything to annoy her, so he wasn't sure what her problem was.

Other things he enjoyed about living with Sakura were the lively get-togethers she had with her friends. Ever since she’d bought the larger flat, her group of friends had unanimously decided that Sakura’s flat was their official meeting spot. This should have perhaps annoyed him, as it meant that he constantly had to retreat into the hidden part of the flat to hide, but in fact, he rather liked it. As isolated as he was, this expanded the amount of people he could interact with, even if it was a one-way interaction.

He liked listening to Sakura laugh when she was with her friends. She became much higher energy around them. He knew she was an introvert, but typically didn’t look it due to her lack of shyness and the positive vibes she radiated when in a group setting. She always tried ridiculously hard to make sure every person in a group was happy, that no one felt left out…

…it would come in handy later, when people wondered who the necromancer could be. No one would think to suspect a cheerful and thoughtful individual such as Sakura of such a dark occupation. In fairness, Itachi didn’t think he’d have figured out it was her had he not been told, either. Or well, he might have figured  it out since he knew of her research, but had he not known about Sakura’s questionable extracurriculars…

Either way, the rest of her friends were rather interesting to listen to as well. Not because he particularly cared about Naruto and Hinata’s love life, or about the dare Inuzuka Kiba had made Shikamaru do during the wedding of the Ichiraku Ramen girl –  it was interesting in the sense that he knew Sakura better than her friends did, which added another layer to listening to their interactions without seeing them – and then getting her take on them later on, when they talked about it during breakfast or lunch.

He somewhat resented that Sakura always ate dinner with Kakashi, no matter what had happened on a given day, but often, she’d sit together with him in the living room after she came back from his place, her, doing her nightly meditation jutsu thing, him, just drawing her, or, if he felt bored of repeating the same drawing over and over, which happened on occasion, reading a book.

Books were a safe territory. He liked discussing books with her. There were no pitfalls related to his past or his spying on her. Sometimes, they spoke about genjutsu. Other times, she told him a little about her research – though he’d noticed that she was very careful about the information she gave out on the edo tensei. That was a good thing, though.

Another safe conversational topic was genjutsu. They’d discussed it at length, especially during his first month living with her, when the topic had been exhausted. Or, well, perhaps not exhausted, but rather: warped.

“You know? If we’re talking without the Sharingan, I can spot illusions faster than Sasuke can,” Sakura had told him when ‘it’ all began. She’d been smiling in that way  that let him know she was yanking on his chain on purpose but he couldn’t help but fall for it anyway.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true. When we took our first chunin exams, there was an illusion on the door and I was the first to spot it. Sasuke even admitted I was faster.”

“Impossible. Sasuke is an Uchiha.”

“So?” Sakura raised her brows. “I’m pretty  damn good at genjutsu.”

“When I fought with him, my brother was capable of breaking very high level illusions,” Itachi countered somewhat irritably.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I broke an S-rank illusion cast on the chunnin exams’ arena when I was thirteen.”

“Sakura-san…”

“I’m not kidding, Itachi. Try me, if you don’t believe me.”

“Perhaps I shall.”

“I’d welcome the practice,” Sakura had replied challengingly.

That conversation had resulted in open war in her house. A war of illusions. Every so often, Itachi would cast an illusion on the window, to make it look like a bomb had gone off outside and Konoha was in flames, or an illusion on the stove, to make it look like the gas kitchen had blown up, or an illusion  on the bathroom, to make it look like a dead person was lying in the bathtub – anything he could think of that Sakura might fall for.

Unfortunately, while she shrieked a couple of times, Sakura wisened up quickly – and armed a counterattack. Not that her illusions could do much damage to him, but she cast them so often that he constantly had to be on guard for the next one.

While village life was a pleasant summer night’s dream, he also had his own missions to take care of. A lot of research and planning had to go into the extraction of each person’s remains. When he’d insisted on wanting to help, Sakura had tasked him with collecting the DNA of all those they planned on resurrecting in order to save time. Itachi was committed, having already decided he’d dig up graves for Sakura beforehand, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t unpleasant.

First, there was the tracking component. He had to comb through old clan records for that. Depending on the person they wanted to find, it could be extremely hard to do so. Getting a hold of the founders’ remains had been a veritable nightmare – read: for all that he knew of the Senju graveyard, he hadn’t managed to find out where Hashirama Senju was buried –  and the Hatake clan hadn’t been much better. The Uzumaki were on a whole other level, of course, what with Uzushio’s destruction. Thankfully, Sakura had close ties to the last Hatake, Uzumaki and Senju in existence, which made the act of getting a hold of the files easier.

Tsunade had just up and given Sakura the keys to the Senju estate before leaving. Kakashi had quite literally done the same for the Hatake estate, Sakura had explained, because she didn’t have anywhere to train other than public training grounds, so he’d given her his old clan ground’s keys as a birthday gift. Finding the remains of the Uzumaki was harder because Naruto knew very little, but he was so trusting of Sakura that the information they did need to get out of him had been obtained extremely easily. Itachi himself had been the man for the job where it had come to sneaking into the Uchiha compound ruins to hunt for old records.

Sakura had insisted on coming with him on most of these research expeditions, as they were within Konoha. He hadn’t wanted her to, for her own safety, but he had to admit that it was so much more fulfilling, and even, dare he say, fun, when they did it together. The nights where they’d made a breakthrough were his favorite. They would sit together on the couch, eating sweets and sipping at a glass of warm milk. It may seem like a childish thing for two adults to do, but it felt so comforting, and… special to him.

Unfortunately, not all of his research and grave-digging could be carried out in Konoha. He was forced to leave on expeditions every so often. In a way, the imposed loneliness helped clear his head from the brain fog of companionship a little. A mission was a good way to get his mind back on straight and recharge his ninja energies. It also helped him feel useful.

The best part would be that upon his return, he’d have a new appreciation for his roomate again, and Sakura was always especially upbeat for the first few days. It was heartwarming to know that she may miss him, or at least, that she didn’t find his presence appalling.

The only thing he didn’t enjoy about living with her was being woken up in the middle of the night by random ANBU who wanted treatment (of course, they crept into Sakura’s room, not his, but of course he always knew they were coming before they even reached the house). But even that wasn’t so bad, as it sometimes resulted in him and Sakura having an early morning breakfast on the rooftop. With the village being so quiet in the wee hours of the morning, they had deemed it safe for him to get some air outside, as long as it was very early and he disguised his appearance.

They’d sit on the rooftop, sipping warm tea, talking about nothing in particular. Sometimes he’d draw the sunset or perhaps something he’d seen on one of his excursions, and Sakura would watch with interest, and they wouldn’t talk at all, except for maybe when one of them realized that their tea had grown cold. He’d feel so happy in those  moments.

ITACHI

Chapter Text

ONE year NINE months Before YANAGI

Sakura blew carefully at the tea in her hand, waiting for it to cool. Across  from her, Tobirama was doing the same.

They were on a tea break again. The short time pocket in between waiting for the water to boil and having the tea ready comprised the only peaceful moments in her lab now – her favorite moments, if she was honest.

She’d started working on her Mokuton research ‘out in the open’ again, so to speak, but it was stressful and painful at times, so these small pockets of calm truly were the best thing she had right now.

She focused on her book again. While she and Tobirama got along better now, it could get awkward at times during their tea break, when neither had anything to say, so she often resorted to reading in order to ease the tension.

Closed Doors, was her poem of the day.

Am I so haughty you can’t see me hurting?

Am I so smug you can’t see I’m sinking?

Is it such a crime to pick the tallest mountain

and climb for the sake of climbing?

Is it a crime to drink from the silver fountain? 

To swim against the tide, and sail toward something?

Am I so haughty you can’t see me hurting?

Am I so smug you can’t see I’m sinking?

Huh… she thought. But the title isn’t even even mentioned in the poem… ‘closed doors’, I suppose that explains what it’s about, even with Fukuzawa’s typical vagueness.

She could identify with this one’s meaning pretty well. How often had she felt left out? How often had others called her a smug bitch behind her back, or accused her of being arrogant and haughty? 

It was her another sad poem, one that resonated with her. At least it’s not about death for once.

“What are you reading?” Tobirama asked her from across the kitchen.

Sakura eyed him over her book cover. “Hm?” Odd. Couldn’t he read the title from there? She cocked her head, thinking. Did he have weak eyesight? Well, it was frequent in albinos…. But how could he fight so well if his eyesight was poor? Did he make up for it by sensing his surroundings? Could that even be achieved?

“Haruno,” Tobirama called.

Sakura snapped out of her thoughts. “Oh. Just a random poetry book.”

“You read poetry?” He asked, appearing surprised.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” she asked testily. Of course he would judge her for indulging in such a flowery activity.

He took a sip of tea. “What are you being so defensive for?”

“Well, obviously because I’m expecting you to diss my hobby.”

“Why?” Tobirama asked curiously.

Why: he loved that question word.

“I didn’t expect you to be a fan of poetry. You’re not exactly a touchy feely type of guy,” Sakura told him. 

Tobirama snorted. “No,” he said. “I suppose I’m not.” He eyed the contents of his tea cup. “Though I enjoy a good poem every now and then.”

Curiosity piqued, Sakura decided to put his words to the test. “Oh? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

“What, you want me to recite poetry to you?” Tobirama asked irritably.

“Well, why not? You said you enjoyed it, didn't you?”

“It’s one thing to enjoy it and another to have entire poems memorized, Haruno.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re a casual enjoyer then.”

Tobirama gave her an miffed look. “Why must you always taunt me?”

“But I’m not,” she said innocently.

“Don’t think I didn’t see the look on your face just now,” he said, bracing against the counter. “Fine, you want a poem, here’s one.”

All things pass, 

and all things last,

but we, we only pass,

and in passing we pave paths

paths over the sea.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, knowing it by heart, and immediately joined in in reciting it:

Never have I sought glory,

not left in the memory

of men my song.

I love the subtle worlds

weightless and bright

like bubbles of soap.

They both sped up a little, looking at each other as they progressed through the next verse, almost as if they were daring each other  to see who could finish it faster.

I love to see them alight

in sun and scarlet, floating

under the deep blue sky,

trembling subtly, and popping,

never have I pursued glory.

Upon reaching Sakura’s favorite part, they both slowed down, as if by consensus, and recited it with more dignity:

Wanderer, it’s your footsteps

that pave the path

and nothing but that,

wanderer, there is no path,

in walking the path is carved.

In walking the path is carved

and in turning to glance back

we may regard the road

which never again will be trod.

Wanderer, there is no path

only ripples in the sea,

some time ago, far from here

where woods now dress as thorns,

the voice of the poet called,

“Wanderer, there is no path

in walking, the path is carved.”

Verse by verse, blow by blow,

died the poet far from home

over the dust of a foreign road 

as he left his head was bowed.

“Wanderer, there is no path;

In walking, the path is carved.”

Verse by verse, blow by blow

When the goldfinch can no more sing

When the poet’s but a ghost

When prayer brings nothing,

“Wanderer, there is no path,

in walking, the path is carved,

Verse by verse, blow by blow.”

They finished, quite pleased with themselves, and smirked at each other.

“You were saying?” Tobirama asked smugly.

Sakura took a sip of her tea. “Well, I suppose you do have a modicum of  lyrical taste.”

“That’s what you get for making assumptions.”

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” she accused.

“Like what?”

“Like the cat that caught the canary.”

He smiled and shrugged. “You made it too easy on me. Though I wasn’t expecting you to know that poem by heart.”

“I would be a hypocrite if I taunted you for not having any memorized and then didn’t know some of my own.” Sakura dangled her legs a little. “That was my favorite poem.”

“Was it? It’s mine as well.”

“You seem surprised.”

“I am. I was expecting you to prefer something else. This one is fairly well known.”

“So what? Can’t my favorite poem be popular?”

“It can. I’m just surprised you didn’t pick something more obscure to hold over my head,” Tobirama said, smirking at her.

The guy liked yanking on her chain alright.

Sakura sniffed. “I find people who try to pick the most obscure song or poem of an artist just to avoid seeming like a casual fan irritating. Generally, the most popular song is popular for a reason. You can like an obscure one, that’s fine, but don’t shame someone else for enjoying the popular one. People should stop ridiculing others for enjoying art. Any kind of art.”

“People,” Tobirama said, “are in a constant search for ways to feel superior to those around them.”

Sakura agreed with a nod. “Really, and then people   wonder why I’m a misanthropist.”

“Are you?” Tobirama asked with a raised brow. “You don’t look it.”

“A closet misanthropist then.”

He snorted. “Sounds like a lot of effort to keep that hidden.”

“Oh, trust me, it is.” 

They lapsed into a surprisingly peaceful silence after that, Sakura’s mind drifting to her favorite poem again and how surprising it was that Tobirama knew it, and not just that, but that it was his favorite as well.

“Haruno?”

She angled  her head to look at the sometimes-bane of her existence. “Yes?”

Was he going to challenge her to another poem battle?

“Where did you learn how to fight like that?”

Apparently not.

“Fight like what?” Sakura gave him a curious look.

“Like you,” Tobirama said, looking at her with that white wolf stare of his.

Sakura shrugged, pushing herself up to take a seat on the kitchen counter. 

“Where did I learn to fight?” Sakura repeated. “Is this a trick question?”

Tobirama braced against the wall – which was by now ‘his’ wall – to regard her with crossed arms. “I know you studied at the Academy, then with Tsuna, though that is not what I meant. How do you know all those jutsu?”

“Ah. Right. You saw my spar with Kakashi.”    Sakura drummed her fingers against the kitchen counter. “He taught me what I know about ninjutsu, for the most part. He was my jonin sensei, you know. Before Tsunade became my shishou.” 

Tobirama looked thoughtful. “He trained Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke as well, didn’t he? I witnessed their fighting styles during the war and they were nothing like yours.”

“Well… they each trained under one of the other two Sannin – Orochimaru and Jiraiya.”

“And you trained under Tsunade. That’s not what I mean. Why do you know so many jutsu that they don’t?”

“Kakashi showed them to me,” Sakura said again, gripping the counter. He had taught her every single one of the over a thousand jutsu he was known to have copied, in fact. All of them.

“He’s taught you… but not the other two?” Tobirama asked.

Way to ask the uncomfortable questions, Sakura resisted the urge to tell the man to sod off. The tea wasn’t ready yet.

“I suppose I was the only one who asked him to,” Sakura said with a shrug.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Well, Naruto and Sasuke used to pester him for jutsu when we were younger,” Sakura replied, “and Kakashi did teach Sasuke his signature jutsu – the Chidori. I also think he had a hand in Naruto ending up with Jiraiya as a teacher, who taught him the Rasengan. But then Sasuke… left the village and Naruto did as well… and I suppose only I remained.”

She lowered her head to stare at her tea, then took a careful sip.  The flavor she was sampling today tasted amazing.

“I… see,” Tobirama replied. “Hatake started training you then?”

“Honestly, no. I didn’t see him for the longest time after he left the village,” Sakura said, remembering that time with a bittersweet feeling in her chest. “The first time Kakashi taught me a jutsu, it was just a D-rank technique. I was fifteen and already a resident working at the hospital. Tsunade-shishou had told me that if I made her waste time, she wouldn’t let me train in something I had requested. That day, there was a power outage – village wide.”

“A power outage?” Tobirama repeated. “Can’t be good, in a hospital. You people rely on your new technologies too much.”

“We’ve got emergency generators for that,” Sakura said. “At least, we do now, but we didn’t then. Turns out our defibrillators weren’t working.”

“Defibrillators?”

“They’re these machines which send an electrical pulse to the heart to jumpstart it again, after cardiac arrest. They’re used for resuscitation.”

“Ah,” said Tobirama, looking puzzled. “We used a lightning jutsu to do that, in my time.”

“Yeah, well… since a lot of our defibrillators weren’t cooperating, Tsunade took a page from your time. She rounded up all the medics and told us to learn a D-ranked reanimation jutsu, which come to think of it, is probably the one you used.”

“Probably,” Tobirama agreed. “I wouldn’t call it D-ranked, though. You could kill someone with it.”

“Well, the point is that I just couldn’t get the jutsu to work for me,” Sakura said, recalling the damn near nervous crisis she’d had when she just couldn’t get it to work. She’d been so desperate and anxious that she’d gone to the hospital bathroom to try to calm down, the nerves getting to her. But the staff bathroom had been full of her colleagues, so she’d wound up puking into a bush behind the hospital building instead, in an area that was usually empty.

“I’d always had a weak stomach in stress situations,” Sakura admitted. “Kakashi found me puking my guts out behind the hospital. He asked me what the matter was, and I told him about the jutsu… so he sat down with me on the sidewalk and walked me through it until I could do it. Actually… I singed his hair,” she remembered, the charred mass of grey still visible in her mind’s eye. “But it worked.”

“And you learned the jutsu in that stretch of time?” Tobirama asked with raised brows.

“The merit was Kakashi’s.” Sakura smiled at the memory. “He channeled electricity through his hands for me until I got the hang of creating lightning chakra.” They’d had to hold hands for her to get a feel of what he was doing with his chakra. It had been incredibly awkward for the fifteen-year-old Sakura, but once she’d gotten over the weirdness of it, she had mastered the jutsu.

“Since that day, Kakashi made it a habit to drop in on me every now and then, asking me playfully if I was having problems with another jutsu.”

“And you actually told him?” Tobirama asked skeptically.

Sakura had been hesitant to let slip about her moments of weakness, her instances where she wasn’t the perfect student of the Godaime… but Kakashi had known her before then, before Sakura had taken on the impossible task of being the perfect medic, and somehow, she’d opened up to him again, even after her abandoned her. 

“Well, maybe I didn’t share my weaknesses with him, but I told him about my research, my attempts to master the different elemental natures, something essential for medics, and I suppose I even talked about the hospital politics that I  kept being dragged into.”

“Did you?”

“Well, the hospital’s different power players attempted to use me to get close to shishou continuously. Some hated me for being civilian born, or envied me my privileged position as shishou’s student… it was a lot to deal with for me. I would’ve rather not talked to anyone, but Shishou forced me to play the game.”

“And you never told her?”

“No.” Sakura had never wanted to show that weakness to her shishou.

“Why would I? She wouldn’t want a student that got overwhelmed by something like politics.”

“Why not?” 

“Honestly, did you meet your grandniece? From her perfect beauty, to her exacting standards and accolades, Tsunade is like this figure of unreachable perfection.”

“I heard she has alcohol and gambling problems.”

“Okay, fine. But I really admired her in the past. Still do. I didn’t understand why she decided to take me on – so I tried covering all my bases to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind.”

“Which translates to not telling her when you ran into problems.”

“It was fine! At least most of the time. You know, with her mercurial moods, I used to think that Tsunade-shishou might wake up from one moment to the next and decide it wasn’t worth the hassle to keep me around. So I tried to be as little of a hassle as possible. I studied independently, I memorized everyone’s names and backgrounds so they would like me… but sometimes it all got too much, like on the day Kakashi found me.”

“That fear of confiding in anyone is astonishing. You told no one of your problems, did you? And then you wonder why I found you suspicious.”

“How can it be astonishing when my fortune seemed to be dangling by a thread?” Sakura asked. “The idea of giving her a reason to abandon me was an obvious no. Kakashi, though… I didn’t  depend on him anymore, when we met again. In fact, he’d been absent for longer than the time I had known him, so I was sort of resigned that I would never see him again anyway.”

“Then why choose him to confide in? If he already abandoned you once.”

Sakura frowned, wondering why she was having this conversation.  She’s never talked about this with anyone, though, and the nidaime made for a decent sounding board to help her understand her own thoughts. Plus, he would take her secrets back to his grave.

“That’s exactly why,” she said with a shrug. “I didn’t really owe Kakashi anything, and if he suddenly decided he wanted nothing to do with me—well, I was ready, you know?”

“In what way?”

“Well? I didn’t depend on him. I made sure not to depend on anyone, only shishou, I suppose, and a little bit Ino’s parents. What I mean is – Kakashi’s leaving at least it wouldn’t impact my career again. But  if Tsunade had cast me away… I couldn’t have handled that.”

“I see…” Tobirama seemed thoughtful.

“So anyway, long story short, I gave Kakashi a second chance. Somehow things just progressed into regularly discussing jutsu with him over meals behind the hospital, where I’d eat my sandwich sitting on that sidewalk he’d first helped me at, and sometimes he’d show up and read his book next to me. We barely talked, at first. Well, for like, a whole year of this. Then he gave me the keys to his apartment as a gift for my birthday. I still don’t know why, but it made me trust him more.”

“It’s a big gesture,” Tobirama said. “I’m guessing you started going to his flat when you needed assistance?”

“Oh, no. I only went there to restock his fridge and walk the ninken.” said Sakura, waving him off.

Tobirama stared. “Did he… ask you to do that?”

Sakura shrugged. 

Tobirama gave her an odd look. “You know, I doubt he gave you his keys because he wanted a dog sitter.”

Sakura shrugged again.

“With all your brain power, Haruno, and you couldn’t figure out why your old mentor would  give you his keys?”

Sakura gave him the stink eye. “I got the general idea. That he trust me.”

“Don’t you think maybe he wanted you to visit him or something?”

“Kakashi? Pf, no.”

“Did you at least ask him about the gift?”

“Well, no. In fact, I made sure to always go to his place when he was on missions, and to leave no traces of my presence other than the fridge thing.”

Tobirama shook his head. “I assume this changed at some point?”

“Yes. Before the war. Then Kakashi randomly got into the habit of kidnapping me from my bed or the supermarket or the training ground. Kidnapping drills, he used to call them.”

“What?” asked Tobirama tartly.

Sakura laughed at his expression. 

 “You two are suited to each other. No communication skills whatsoever,” Tobirama said as he poured the tea into two cups.

“As if you’re any better, Rocky.”

The water had already started to boil while she was spaced out so Tobirama had made their tea today. Sakura was strangely startled by this action.

“So – where were we? The Rokudaime Hokage used to… kidnap you?”  

“It was right before the war,” Sakura said defensively. “He did it to prepare me. But… yeah. Scared me shitless, the first couple times. It was good training, though.”

“Medics are the first to get targeted,” Tobirama agreed.

Sakura nodded. “Kakashi… went a little bonkers right before the war.”

“I think we all do,” the nidaime whispered.

She picked up her tea, taking a careful sip to test its quality.

“Mn.”

“Is that when he started teaching you his jutsu in earnest?”  

She nodded. “Yep. Easy Pickings’ Bootcamp , he called it. Bastard.”

Tobirama chuckled. “Easy pickings, eh?”

“I’m not!” Sakura snapped, a familiar phrase by then. She rubbed her nape, smiling faintly at the sense of deja vu.

“Uh-huh.”

She grabbed a tea bag and chucked it at his head. 

He snorted, looking amused, and caught the bag in mid air.

“I see Hatake helped hone your attack skills.”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “As a matter of fact, he did. And not just with tea bags.”

“No. Not just.” Tobirama paused to eye her. “You know a great deal of jutsu, Haruno.”

“Hm. It’s not really any merit of my own. It’s all thanks to Kakashi and Ino.” 

If it hadn’t been for her ability to Recall information, she would never have been able to learn all those techniques Kakashi had shoved down her throat – this way she knew them all without forgetting a single one. It was only thanks to Ino sharing that old Yamanaka technique with her so long ago that she’d gotten to where she was today. 

“You know the Yamanaka enhanced memory jutsu?” Tobirama asked in surprise.

“Yes. It played a fundamental role in my success,” she said. Usually, she wouldn’t tell anyone, but for some reason, she didn’t want Tobirama to think she was arrogant. Talking about her own accomplishments always made her feel like she was.

“Well. Now I know how you learned medicine in three years,” Tobirama said. “I admit, it made me suspicious.”

Sakura shrugged. “Chalk it off to the Yamanaka jutsu and my good teachers. Anyone could’ve done it.”

Well, not really, as most people weren’t disciplined enough to use the technique effectively,  but it didn’t hurt to be humble. 

“Hm. So the current Hokage passed his legacy onto you, out of all his students,” Tobirama noted, tilting his head to regard her thoughtfully. “And so did Tsuna…”

Sakura squirmed under his stare. “I would say shishou also passed her teachings onto Shizune. And Kakashi’s legacy is the team work which he instilled into all of us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Haruno. That may be a part of it, but he only gave you his jutsu and his summons.” Tobirama scanned her up and down. “How come you aren’t in line to succeed him? You were mentored by two kage.”

Sakura completely blanked out at that question. “Suc—succeed him?” she asked.

“That’s what I said.”

She shook her head slowly. “You know, you can stop it with the morality tests.”

“It was an honest question.”

“Well, then it’s a stupid one: Naruto will be the next Hokage.”

“He is good at inspiring people,” Tobirama agreed. “But how good are his management skills? Are you sure Tsuna and Hatake didn’t entertain the notion of…?”

“No! Well. Shishou… probably not. She trained me to be a good politician, but I think she had the hospital in mind. And Kakashi – he… he didn’t single me out because of anything like that. It was only because the other two left… and I was there, that he took me under his wing.”

“Do you truly believe that?” asked Tobirama. Not with censure, just curiosity.

“Yeah, pretty sure.”  Sakura frowned. “You know, when I was younger, he made me bear more responsibilities than he did the boys. He gave me all the unpleasant jobs. I used to think he disliked me.”

“What jobs?”

“Well, I was the one who wrote all the mission reports, and… he trained me to be a coward and do the unpleasant things that went against his ideology.”

Tobirama gave her a questioning look. “Like what?”

“Like running away.”

“In what way?”

Sakura frowned. “I’ll tell you some other time. My point is, Kakashi never liked me until the others left. I sort of expected him to revert to his initial behavior when they returned.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No.”

“Then you were wrong.”

“I suppose. I don’t know. Not necessarily.”

“How so?”

Goddamn Tobirama and his continuous questions.

If she was honest, it was a question that had plagued her for the longest time. Why did Kakashi pick her, out of all three of them? On her off days, she thought it was because of pity. That Kakashi had seen Naruto’s shining light and Sasuke’s overwhelming power, and he’d felt bad for her and decided to drop her some jutsu. A part of Sakura, though… a part of her secretly hoped that maybe he’d seen brilliance in her, instead, and he’d wanted to nurture it, to leave his mark on it, to pass his legacy of a thousand jutsu onto her.

“Listen, I… I’m not sure why he taught me his jutsu and no one else, or why he gave me his summoning contract, but… no one really knows he did, so it’s besides the point.”

Tobirama frowned. “No one knows? How is that possible?”

“In terms of jutsu, I only really go all out when it’s a spar against Kakashi,” she explained with a shrug. “I do go all out in taijutsu against Lee, but those are just spars. I’m not on active duty, so… I haven’t fought seriously in over a decade.” She trailed off.

“Why?” the nidaime asked. There was no judgment in his tone, just honest bafflement. “Why hide what you can do?”

Sakura bit her lip. Why, indeed.  “I’ve always felt like Kakashi never wanted anyone to know, about any of what he’s done for me, or even that we’re really close. And no one does, besides maybe Shikamaru – that’s his assistant.”

“You should just ask him,” Tobirama said, crossing his arms. “The idea that he wouldn’t want you to use the jutsu he taught you is ridiculous.”

“Hm. I guess he would allow it.”

“Then why don’t you?”

She wished she could answer that question without looking like a selfish bitch to him. Whatever Kakashi’s motives for teaching her his thousand jutsu, the point still stood that he had done it, and Sakura… She wasn’t sure how Naruto and Sasuke would react, if they knew. So she hadn’t told them, hadn’t told anyone. It wasn’t like she’d been trying to hide it, exactly… but somehow, she always ended up making the choice of not using all that knowledge Kakashi had passed onto her where her teammates could see. Or other people in general.

“It… it just makes more sense to limit my jutsu arsenal when I spar with people,” Sakura said with a shrug. “I can’t say I boast the largest chakra reserves out there.”

“Don’t you have the byakugou?” Tobirama questioned. “Three of them?”

Sakura sat up straighter. “How can you tell I have more than one?”

“Sensor, remember?” Tobirama said. “I could sense you have one Byakugou on your forehead, one over your heart and one on your nape from the moment I first saw you. And you’re charging one on your navel as we speak,” he added. “You have plenty of chakra to go around.”

Sakura bit her lip. That much was true. She scowled at him for having caught her – to which he responded by giving her an amused look.

“Does Tsuna also have so many Byakugos?” Tobirama asked curiously.

Tsuna. He always called her that…

Sakura scratched her scalp awkwardly. “Well… no. I mean, shishou is a Senju. If anything, her problem is that she has so much chakra that it’s hard to control. She’s just stuck to her forehead byakugo because she says it was a pain to constantly siphon chakra into a new one, when she doesn’t even really need it.”

“But you do?”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, my natural chakra reserves aren’t the largest around,” Sakura said. “I don’t really mind constantly storing more if it means I’ll thank my lucky stars a couple years from  now. Usually, it’s during a crisis when you realize you wish you had another Byakugo, and then it’s much too late.”

“And you do this every day? Syphon of part of your chakra to whatever Byakugo your’e charging?” Tobirama asked.

“Well, I kept running out of space to store all that chakra in, so I keep having to add more of them,” she said with a shrug.

“Haruno, that seal was dubbed strength of a hundred for a reason. One seal has the capactiy to store a hundred jonin shinobi’s worth of chakra reserves. You’ve got three and a half strength of a hundred seals. That’s around a hundred and fifty jonin. Way more than Naruto has, or anyone else. Clearly, a chakra deficiency isn’t going to ever be your problem in a fight,” Tobirama concluded, looking at her critically. “So why would you limit your jutsu arsenal?”

Sakura shrugged, tugging at the loose thread in her haori. For the longest time, she had told herself that it made more sense to stick to her augmented strength as her only combat style, since it was the one that recycled her chakra the best, but that excuse hadn’t really been feasible since she’d finished charging her second Byakugou seal. Deep down, Sakura knew she was just scared of Naruto and Sasuke’s reactions to knowing Kakashi had taught her all his jutsu. Her. And not them.  What would they say, if they knew?

“Honestly? Because my teammates would be furious. They’d either resent me for somehow manipulating Kakashi into playing favorites, or they’d be mad at Kakashi for passing them or over, especially in favor of me, so you can see why I’d rather avoid that drama.”

Or worse yet, they’d talk sense into Kakashi and convince him to share his jutsu with all of them. And then she’d be back to being nothing special.

“Did you?” Tobirama asked. “Manipulate him?”

Sakura glared at him. “If that’s what you want to call restocking his fridge and gifting him birthday gifts. I never expected anything from him.”

Sakura hadn’t written that Icha Icha spin off book all those years ago expecting this outcome. She hadn’t stocked Kakashi’s fridge in preparation for his return from ANBU missions so many times, healed his wounds so many times, walked his pack so many times,  expecting anything at all in exchange.  

“Then why do you feel guilty about receiving his kindness?”

Sakura glared at Tobirama. “Because now that he’s given it, I can’t relinquish it.”

If Kakashi was anything, then that was a person who gave back what he got… and as it turned out, he had a lot to give, when he wanted to. Literally thousands of jutsu, a summoning contract to some of the most loyal ninken to ever set a paw on this earth… even the favor of a Hokage. And he’d given them all to her, all these precious things, unconditionally – as if they were worth the same as her measly attempts at fine literature and sunny afternoons washing dishes next to him.

Sakura knew what they would say, what they always had said if they knew: that she was a suck up, that she found the most important power players and she wagged her tail at them until she got what she wanted. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t, damn it. But her opinion didn’t count for anything.

If it ever got out that Kakashi had taught her all his jutsu, she just knew how Sasuke and Naruto would react.  

“You don’t want your teammates to be taught his jutsu,” Tobirama paraphrased.

Sakura frowned, hating that the conversation had ended up here.

“Well… no. I know it’s wrong, but deep down… I mean, Sasuke has the Sharingan and a Rinnegan, and Naruto has the nine tails… but it’s not even about that.  They are mine. Kakashi chose me to share them with and no one else. Not the prodigal son, not the avenger: he chose me. He l spent all those hours, took so much time out of his busy days to show me those techniques he so treasures. You don’t get it. You didn’t grow up hearing about The Copy Nin’s thousand jutsu. They’re  Kakashi’s most precious secret, one which he’s not shared with anyone….”

“Anyone but you.”

Sakura nodded. “I know that it may seem stupid to just want to hoard the knowledge without telling anyone I have it, without using it, but if I use them, they will be taken away. Naruto and Sasuke will demand he teach them too, and that it will stop being special. It is stupid, I know. If I don’t  use his jutsu, then what was the point? But I can't help it. Kakashi’s the only one. He has given me all I could have asked for… only now I don’t really know what to do with  it.”

Kakashi was the one who had taught her Naruto’s Rasengan with a cheeky smile and a finger over his masked lips and a promise not to tell, Kakashi was the one who had shown her how to channel all nature transformations, and later, the one who had coached her through her training to channel more than one elemental nature at the same time – something even Kakashi couldn’t do, but which he’d observed with his Sharingan.

And Sakura… Sakura had sucked it all up like a sponge. Sakura had picked up how to channel two chakra natures at once just like she did everything else, and then, after that, it had just been one more chakra control exercise, a game almost, to see how many more she could stack together. All of them was the final answer, achieved after years of training to sharpen her control to its finest.

“The tea is good,” Tobirama said, his voice drifting back to her.

Sakura blinked in surprise. She’d drifted off into her own thoughts after confessing something so appalling, yet he’d apparently let it go. Sakura accepted the tea, relieved she didn’t have to keep fielding the complicated topic. 

“You only say that because you brewed it this time.”

“Hm,” Tobirama muttered. “I’ll remember to praise your tea if it means so much to you.”

Sakura rolled her eyes at his typical acerbic manner, but her heart wasn’t really in it. Now was when they pretended the conversation had never happened and went back to bickering… but she couldn’t.

 “Aren’t you going to call me out for being a selfish bitch now?” she asked, unable to move on from the topic as he apparently had.

“I don’t think it’s selfish,” he said. “Just a shame.”

She frowned a little. “A shame? You mean for Sasuke and Naruto. I mean, I know they could be even better if they knew all those jutsu, but we’re at peace right now so–”

“I don’t mean them. I mean you.” His eyes bore into hers. “It’s a shame they made you feel like you have to hide.”

“Oh.”

Having said this, he exited the kitchen, leaving her to ponder those words. Sakura stared after him. Then, she followed behind him more sedately.

As she exited the kitchen, the calm washed past her, replaced by the usual sounds of the lab. Machines buzzing, a clock ticking away. Sakura walked back to her workstation, retrieving her encrypted notes.

“The tea is good,” she said, taking another sip of her cup as she lowered herself into her chair.

“Maybe I should brew our tea more often, then,” Tobirama said. She thought of how women were always expected to brew tea, in any setting.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Maybe you should.”

ONE year NINE months Before YANAGI

Chapter Text

ONE year SEVEN months Before YANAGI

It was late; the lab, quiet. Sakura stretched in her chair, joints popping. She glanced over to Tobirama. Since he was ignoring her, she decided to ignore him back and began fixing herself some tea. Her damned manners got the better of her and she ended up pouring him a cup too.

Then she made her way over to her own desk and sat down with a sigh. (Yes, she’d ended up buying an extra desk and chair because the war Tobirama had waged on her over her chair had been getting ridiculous.)

Retrieving her story’s manuscript, Sakura decided to give herself a treat and write a little, as opposed to continuing with the edo tensei research. She’d only started writing this particular spin off after a request from Kakashi. The main plot of Icha Icha stated clearly that Junko was the long-lost heiress to the crown, though she herself didn’t know this at the beginning of the story. The plot of Icha Icha kicked off when Junko reached her majority and ran into a fortune seeker who thought that she might be the long-lost crown princess. Since the Taiko (the supreme ruler of the land) was desperate to reunite with his daughter, he had put up a very high bounty for anyone who could return his daughter to him.

In Icha Icha Paradise , Junko had finally decided that she wanted to step up and claim her heritage as crown princess, and Tactics had seen her reunion with her father right before he’d unexpectedly died, hence covering the politics of his succession.

The political intrigue in the spin off Sakura had written, however, was even more complex than that of the original — due in part to the existence of Tsubaki. At first, she’d come up with the character by blending Orochimaru and Ino, but now she was so much more.

To make a long story short, Tsubaki was a nobody. However, due to her incredible ambition, she had studied magic, amassed what amounted to be an army, and had passed herself off as the long lost crown princess. All Tsubaki had going for her were lies, though. She used her obscure magicks to change her appearance from her ugly looks at the beginning of the story, she manipulated the Taiko into believing she was his daughter and conned the yakuza into supporting her behind the scenes. Hell, she’d even started a war with the neighboring kingdom to profit off of it.

In essence, Sakura had written Tsubaki to be the foil to Junko. Her only problem was that for some obscure reason, Kakashi liked her more than he did Junko. Sakura didn’t understand the man’s obsession with her made-up villainess, but he was always asking her for more Tsubaki content. It had all started off with Kakashi griping that Tsubaki’s ascension to crown princess was unrealistic if she truly didn’t have any royal background. A peasant, Kakashi had said, wouldn’t have been educated to know how to write, never mind learn magic and get enough power to manipulate the yakuza.

Incensed by his criticism, Sakura had started adding more chapters detailing Tsubaki’s thought processes during the action, to prove that her achievements weren’t just supported by blood armor but by actual cunning and skill, even if she was, indeed, a peasant.

“Stay at my side? Oh, Kosu-kun.” Tsubaki pushed her deep black hair aside, pinning the injured man under a penetrating stare. “You’re a fool. All along, you’ve been a fool.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to travel with you,” said the samurai, meeting her eyes determinedly. “I knew you weren’t exactly sunshine and daisies when I decided to follow you.”

“You knew nothing.” Tsubaki closed her eyes. “You didn’t even know my name, Kosuke. Or did you really think that I was born with a name worthy of nobility? Oh, no. I merely came up with Tsubaki to persuade you to join me, because I knew samurai admire the camelia flowers.”

Kosuke looked at her wordlessly. “A name is just a name,” he said eventually. “I could be called anything else and it wouldn’t make a difference, ne? There are things  more important than a name.”

“Perhaps not to you, but you know no one else would agree. Names are everything in this world of ours,” Tsubaki said, looking away and towards the expanse of land ahead of them.

“I said I would follow you then, I will follow you now,” Kosuke said. “That is my samurai way. I don’t abandon my family.”

“Your family is dead, Kosuke,” Tsubaki replied harshly. “It was a mistake to try to replace them with me. I’m just a lie. All this time, you’ve fought for a lie.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“I was born in a barn out of the womb of a dead woman,” Tsubaki interrupted harshly. “The seventh daughter of a seventh child. A tuft of ugly ginger hair sat atop my head, and my eyes were as green as a poisonous frog. They used to whisper in my village that witches have hair like blood and eyes the colour of magic. Like mine. I deluded myself into thinking that perhaps I was meant for something more, something besides hayballs and rakes. Because what colour would magic be, if not green? When magic is life, magic is power, magic is trees and flowers, magic is absolute like Mother Nature, which all conquers; magic is green, like life itself, like my eyes.”

“You kept that feature, then. Your eyes are still green,” Kosuke observed. He gave her a smile. “A hint of truth, ne?”

“It was the only truth,” Tsubaki said. “When I was young I was ugly, with a vapid, glazed expression that was half-parts unsettling, half-parts pitiful. The village boys used to mock me, comparing me to the farm animals I slept next to. And so I vowed I would become a witch and fashion myself a face that could never be mocked, a presence that could never be scoffed at. My reasons for seeking power were purely vain. I was selfish, Kosu. I’m not royalty, I’m nothing much. I’ve only peasant blood in my veins. I was never meant to be anything but a girl sleeping in a barn under the stars.”

Since Junko was generally known for her kindness and  fiery attitude, Sakura had really let loose in giving Tsubaki the opposite traits, making her calculating and as cold as ice, with a much more tempered, rational disposition, and a type of charm that was only surface level. In developing Tsubaki more, she had discovered that she actually quite enjoyed writing things from the evil sorcerer's perspective. Junko’s sometimes ditzy behavior was annoying to Sakura, as she often acted illogically, emotionally. Tsubaki, however, made sense. Though Sakura had never admitted this to anyone, she had just based the evil witch's decision-making process on what she would do in that situation, with those obstacles to overcome. Yes, writing from Tsubaki’s perspective just flowed: it was so much easier than trying to put herself in Junko’s shoes.

Of course, the rules of good and evil prevalent in literature dictated that Tsubaki would eventually get her just deserts and Junko her happy ending, but Sakura was really enjoying exploring her character in the meantime.

And, if Kakashi was to be believed, so was he. He’d bitched about needing more Tsubaki background info until Sakura had caved and agreed to write the spin off she was slaving over right now – a story that was just about Tsubaki, chronicling her life from her birth to the current part of the plot. The story was introduced as a series of flashbacks, of Tsubaki reccounting her life from the beginning to Kosu, a character she’d written to resemble Kakashi – though that had been a secret until now. Once it came out how Kosuke and Tsubaki had met, Kakashi would probably see the parallels and perhaps recognize himself. Would he be mad?

Tsubaki was his favorite, so Sakura had at first figured he’d be happy to be cast as her sidekick slash best friend slash the only person Tsubaki trusted… but maybe  Kakashi would be offended to discover himself on the pages of her novel.

The series of flashbacks was a good way of finally having Tsubaki and Kosu clear the air after she revealed all her secrets to him… and it was also a great excuse to leave the story at a cliffhanger.

Tsubaki was already set to inherit the Taiko’s empire right now. If she killed the man, she could become Shogun, the supreme ruler of the empire and all samurai… and give Kosuke back his honour. But instead of describing the final parts of the war against the Taiko , first Sakura would go on at length about Tsubaki’s life.

Sakura advanced a few pages, getting through Tsubaki’s early childhood and to the moment she decided to leave her home to become a witch for good. Logic dictated that her parents should have tried to stop her from such a dangerous endeavor — most witches were killed early on in life — but Tsubaki’s parents were ambitious and supported her daughter. If Kakashi bitched that it was unrealistic, Sakura would tell him to shove it. Her parents had supported her becoming a shinobi too, because they’d thought it might benefit the family business. Why was it so implausible that Tsubaki’s parents would want their daughter to become a witch too?

And so she finished with the goodbye scene and Tsubaki leaving down the beaten path that led away from the village, the ritual offering goat slung over her shoulders. Now she’d need to find the Witch of the Wild and convince her to train her, before anything else could happen.

The forest was not a welcoming place. It wasn’t eerie, as such, but there was an unknown quality that put Shizuka on edge. Her father had chosen the name Shizuka for her because she was born from her mother’s dead womb without crying. She hadn’t spoken a word until the age of three; her name was a good descriptor, but Shizuka had never liked it. It sounded like an order, like her name itself wanted her to stay quiet and lower her head, to know her place in this society of lords and peasants. She didn’t want to be Shizuka, the quiet peasant girl. For now, however… She must cross these woods to find the witch of the Wild that was rumored to dwell in them: the only woman who could teach her how to become someone else.

A silent forest was a dangerous forest, Shizuka knew. But as far as quiet went, she could beat them all. She was at ease in the quiet. She was the quiet. Yet now she did not feel welcome. There was something else about this forest that set her teeth on edge. Perhaps it was the Wrongness of it. The trees had trees growing from them. The stems spiraled towards the sky in circles like the two goldfish of legend. Deep grooves tempered the wet earth  beneath her feet, as though creatures that eroded all they touched had once passed through this damp forest floor and nothing had ever dared grow again in their wake.

Yes, alright. She’d pretty much just described Shikkotsu forest here, but it was just the most magical and scary place she could think of. Her imagination was limited. As for the witch of the wild… Sakura wasn’t sure who to cast for that particular character. She’d already heard the rumor that Junko was supposed to be based on Tsunade, as Jiraiya knew her, but Sakura needed inspiration for the teacher character here, and Tsunade was really the only teacher she’d ever had. But so much about Tsunade’s personality was shaped by her being the last Senju, just like for Junko it was that she was the lost princess… damn it.

Sakura bit her lip, wondering how she was going to introduce the witch of the wild when she suddenly felt someone standing over her. Twisting around, she stared straight into an armor plated chest and a cup of tea.

Tobirama had been peering over her shoulder while she was writing!

Releasing a horrified eep, Sakura scrambled to cover her manuscript as fast as possible, but it was of course much too late.

Tobirama raised a brow. “And what was that?”

“None of your damn business, nidaime!”

“You write fantasy novels,” the man remarked, his tone mighty amused. “Really.”

“And if I did? What’s wrong with that?” Sakura asked defensively, still leaning rather awkwardly over her manuscript so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“You, a woman of science, writes about a witch and her liaisons with a samurai and her merry band of yakuza followers.”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed at him. “What liaisons? Kosu is just her friend! And how do you know about all that?! I was on a different part.”

Tobirama smirked smugly. “I’ve been reading over your shoulder for the past half hour.”

“You’ve… what?!”

“You lack awareness.”

“You—how dare you…?” Sakura demanded. “Agh!”

“I admit I’ve also read the other ones.”

“You’ve what?” Sakura asked, stupefied.

“The other books,” Tobirama clarified. “ The Land of the Sun , Halcyon , Fingerless Shadows, The Seat of Power and Still Waters.” Tobirama paused. “Oh, and that childish one – Romance and Rivalry ?”

Sakura stared blankly, all thoughts exiting her brain. …how? How did he…? Those were all her books!

She kept all her manuscripts under lock and key in her safe at the Shindo estate! The only other person with a copy was Kakashi, but he watched over his books like a dragon hoarding his treasure.

“I wrote Romance and Rivalry when I was fifteen!” she exclaimed hotly, standing to her feet. “And how dare you! That’s private!”

“I do apologize. I didn’t realize you were so ashamed of your own books.”

“I’m not!” she yelled furiously. “But you had no right! How did you even find my books?!”

“Who knows?” Tobirama said with a shrug.

“You used your Hiraishin to break into my safe, didn’t you?! How dare you! How did you even know about it?!”

“As you often remind me, I am a know-it-all.”

“Har har! Not funny!” Sakura snapped.

“Haruno, I assure you the contents of your safe are completely… safe,” Tobirama said with raised brows.

“This is not the time for jokes,” she hissed. “How did you get in?!”

“I’m afraid  that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.”

“Why you…!”

“There’s no need to get so wound up about it. They’re just books, Haruno. I have to say, I’m somewhat fond of Kosuke, but I hate that you made him a samurai. Why couldn’t he be a ninja?”

Sakura blanked for a moment. “I’m not talking to you about this,” she decided, standing from her chair and shoving her manuscript in her bag.

“Why not? Embarrassed?” Tobirama asked, still with that infuriating smirk.

“I’m not embarrassed!” Sakura growled, glaring daggers at him.

“And I’m not an albino. Come on, Haruno.”

“Oh, will you shut up!” Sakura exclaimed furiously. “You  had no right to read my books!”

“I admit I only did because I was attempting to form an opinion of your character,” Tobirama said with a shrug. “Gauging that took priority over everything else.”

Somehow that annoyed her. “Well, you could’ve just talked to me like a normal fucking person! Not read my books!”

“They’re books. They’re meant to be read.”

“Not by you!”

“Uh-huh. Just admit that you’re embarrassed you cast yourself as the villain of your own story.”

“Oh…  you… what?!  No, I didn’t!”

Tobirama eyed her like he didn’t believe a word – then he apparently decided to take mercy on her: “Would you help me assemble something?”

Sakura eyed him suspiciously, but accepted the peace offering: “Assemble what?”

“A computer,” Tobirama supplied, gesturing at a heap of rubble on his desk.

Sakura frowned and rounded the table to peer at what he was doing. “This is a junk heap,” she said incredulously.

“I found it in the rubble dump south of here,” Tobirama said with a shrug. “It seemed like a computer could be built from this.”

“I’ve never assembled anything before,” Sakura said. “Don’t know if I’d be much help.”

“Oh, it’s not that hard. Just like a puzzle. I’ve taken apart and reassembled more modern computers already.”

Sakura gave him a suspicious look. When would he have had time to take apart modern computers? They certainly didn’t exist in his era. She decided she didn’t want to know and rolled her chair over to him.

“‘kay, I’m game. How do I help?”

“Since you’ve never done this before, you could help me by  removing the dust particles from some of these pieces,” Tobirama said.

“So you only want my assistance as a glorified cleaning lady?” Sakura snapped. “I want to help assemble it too!”

They bickered for a while, until Tobirama finally agreed that they’d both clean the old computer pieces and then assemble them together, even if he added that that would  lead to him wasting time explaining everything to her.

Sakura was furiously mopping her hand over an old keyboard that had suspicious stains on it when Tobirama’s voice shook her out of her thoughts: “What are you going to call it?”

She glanced at him suspiciously. “Call what?”

“Your new book.”

She rolled her eyes in deep irritation. “I was thinking Rapscallion . Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Rapscallion? I don’t think that’s an apt descriptor for Tsubaki.”

“Oh my god. Will you shut up? I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

“How about The Reprobate ?”

“I just told you I don’t want to know your opinion!”

“Rapscallion sounds ridiculous. You might as well name it Tsubaki the Scoundrel if you pick that.”

“Please. Just stop.”

“Tsubaki the Caitiff?”

“Damn it, Tobirama!”

Tobirama snorted but actually did what she wanted for once and fell silent.

For a while, neither spoke, both consumed with the glorified dusting process – Sakura mostly following Tobirama’s brief instructions to clean some of the more obviously dirty pieces.

“That forest earlier.” Tobirama said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “The one you were writing about. Was that description inspired by Shikkotsu Forest?”

Sakura glanced up from her dusty keyboard parts with a frown. “...how do you know what Shikkotsu Forest looks like?”

“My brother trained there,” Tobirama explained, also ignoring whatever it was he’d been cleaning. “His description of it was similar to the one in your book, so I wondered if you’d gone.”

Sakura frowned down at the dirt clumps sticking to her fingers. “...I did go to Shikkotsu,” she admitted quietly.

“Hm. So you’re a Sage then?” Tobirama questioned. “Could’ve mentioned that sooner.”

Sakura slanted a glance at him, then looked back ahead of her. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes again. Finally, she admitted: “No. I’m not a Sage.”

“Oh? Then how could you find Shikkotsu? Only those with the intention of training in Senjutsu may stumble upon those woods.”

“I see you know a lot about this topic.” Sakura’s tone was cutting.

“Hm. Like I said, my brother told me about his experience there.”

“So Hashirama was a slug Sage? Huh.” She had known he was a Sage, though not what kind.

Tobirama said nothing for a while, which she took as an admission. Sakura sighed and went back to digging through the computer parts.

“Well? You still haven’t said. How did you manage to enter Shikkotsu if not to train in Senjutsu?”

“How is this relevant?” Sakura asked.

He of all people had no business knowing that she’d failed at mastering Senjutsu. The memory of that day was still fresh in her mind as one of the worst in her life and she wasn’t about to share it with anyone, least of all a bastard like Tobirama.

“I don’t know. I was just curious,” Tobirama replied. “Nothing wrong with backing out of Senjutsu training, if that’s what happened.”

“I didn’t back out,” Sakura hissed, hot furious anger welling up within her.

“Oh?”

“I was kicked out of the forest. It wasn’t up to me to leave,” she said, glaring fiercely at the floor. I’m not a coward. I don’t back down from a challenge. I was determined to get it right. I had to, for the war effort. I would’ve kept going no matter what it took… if only Katsuyu hadn’t…

“You were kicked out?” Tobirama repeated. “How does that work?”

“What do you care?” Sakura snapped, finally turning around to glare at him. “It’s none of your business!”

“I merely find myself confused. The slugs have never before kicked anyone out, to my knowledge.”

“Yes, because you know so much about this topic.”

“I do, actually,” Tobirama said, turning to face her. “I know what happens when one fails at Senjutsu training, and it’s not nearly so benign as being kicked out of Shikkotsu.”

Sakura stilled, something about his tone telling her to pay attention. “What… what do you mean?”

“I knew various people who went to train in the forest,” Tobirama said, pausing to examine a speck of dust on his sleeve. “But only one of them came back. The others…”

“What?” Sakura asked, wide-eyed.

Tobirama shook his head. “It’s not important.”

“It is to me. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he said, turning away.

Sakura sighed and glared, moving to brush  her fingers  over the now clean keyboard. “You just said none of them returned.”

“Except for my older brother, yes.”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“This is none of your business, Haruno.”

Sakura ducked her head and went back to working on the computer. Could this be why her shishou had never even attempted the Sage transition? Sakura had been surprised to hear it back when she’d first asked Tsunade, at sixteen, if she was a Sage. Now… now she understood why Tsunade hadn’t wanted to risk it. No one had returned alive except for the Shodaime. How could Sakura have survived? She should count herself lucky that Katsuyu had butted in to kick her out.

Could the dream-like mediation Sakura had only just begun  truly be so dangerous? Naruto had attempted the transition to Sage and achieved it at fifteen. It couldn’t be that hard if Naruto had done it, right?

And why did Katsuyu make her stop in the middle?

The age old question started to circle around her head again. Sakura had thought, after the Pain attack, that if Naruto had managed to become a Sage, then so could she. However, when she’d tried… she’d only been a few hours into her meditation at the heart of Shikkotsu when Katsuyu had straight up told her to leave, that she wasn’t worthy and she would never be.

Of course, these words had dissuaded her from ever trying again, but now that she knew that it was probably just a lie her shishou had forced Katsuyu to tell…

Could she do it after all? Could she become a Sage? Then again, if so many Senju had failed before her, what was to say that a civilian-born nobody would succeed? Sakura did not want to end up getting turned into a tree…

She glanced back at Tobirama. Did he know something else? Maybe he could give her a useful clue to master the meditation… about what happened to those who failed.

As if reading her mind, the nidaime turned to look at her. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Sakura flinched. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But  you were thinking it. You’re too ambitious for your own good, Haruno. Tsuna made the right call. It’s too risky,” Tobirama paused to level her with a penetrating stare.