(FFML)Suiren, Chapter Twelve: Blood…

BLOOD…

“Revoked?” Frowning, Sakura peered suspiciously at the woman blocking her path. Asano’s gaze was obscured by the narrow eye-slits of her mask, but for some reason Sakura got the feeling that the Hunter nin wasn’t looking her in the eye. It almost felt like… *Dammit, is she staring at my forehead?*

Bristling, Sakura was about to ask the other kunoichi what her problem was, but then a jarring realization struck. “Oh…” She wasn’t wearing her forehead protector; officially, she wasn’t even a ninja anymore. Of course her security clearance had been revoked.

“Crap, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Sakura said sheepishly.

“You should probably stay away for now,” Asano warned, twitching her head in the direction of the ANBU interrogation facility, visible just down the street.

Sakura was hoping to catch Yoshinari before she went to meet Kurenai-sensei, but it seemed that wouldn’t be possible. *I guess I’ll just leave the letter,* she concluded with a frown.

Reaching into her coat pocket, the pink-haired girl pulled out a plain envelope with the name “Hyuuga Yoshinari” written on it. “Could you deliver this for me, then?” she asked.

Accepting the envelope, Asano scanned it briefly before nodding and stuffing it into the folds of her cloak. “Good luck on your mission,” she offered, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

For a moment Sakura stared uncomfortably at the place where the Hunter nin had stood. It wasn’t a total shock that Asano had known about her mission, but it was more than a little unnerving. Apparently, ANBU was still keeping an eye on her.

*I suppose it makes sense, though, with all the classified material I’ve been reading.* Sakura still wondered what sort of strings Anko had pulled to get her that kind of clearance.

On top of having several fresh citations on her record, Sakura had a photographic memory- a trait highly valued in scouts, but a potential liability when it came to information control. Normally, that alone should have kept her from getting access to anything sensitive.

*Unless Anko changed my records.* Suddenly struck by an urgent need to sit down, Sakura stumbled over to a nearby street vendor’s cart. Lifting the shop curtain, she dropped her pack at her feet and pulled up a seat at the narrow bar.

“Mitarashi dango and tea, please,” she ordered automatically.

“Welcome back, Anko-san,” the shopkeeper replied, beaming warmly at her as he looked up.

The lean man gave a start when he saw his customer. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he apologized, scratching his thin salt-and-pepper beard. “My ears must be going in my old age; I could have sworn you were someone else.” With a shallow bow, he set to work on Sakura’s order.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Sakura managed with an unsteady smile, feeling like she’d just been dunked head-first in a barrel of ice water. She thought of cancelling the order, but it was only a moment before a steaming cup of tea and tray of rice dough skewers appeared in front of her. “Ah… thank you.”

“Enjoy!” the graying shopkeeper barked, returning to the cutting board behind the counter where he was rolling more dough balls.

Sakura let the clay teacup warm her hands as she stared down at her shadowy reflection in the water. *I’ve always liked dango, haven’t I?*

Sakura hadn’t had a major identity crisis in quite a while, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was ‘herself’ again. It was just getting harder for her to find the line between ‘normal’ and ‘weird.’

*I’ve always liked dango,* Sakura decided, grumbling inwardly as she selected a stick of grilled dumplings. Her mouth watered at the sweet and savory scent of rice dough and soy sauce, but no matter how she tried to convince herself that it was okay, it felt like she’d be admitting defeat if she ate it.

“I hope you haven’t picked up _all_ of your teacher’s bad habits,” a familiar voice commented from over her shoulder.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. *The next person that sneaks up on me is getting an exploding tag shoved up her ass,* she vowed, turning to look up the woman standing behind her. “As few as I can manage,” she deadpanned. “Good morning, Kurenai-sensei.”

A faintly amused smile appeared on Yuuhi Kurenai’s lips. “Good morning, Haruno-kun. Having some breakfast?”

“I ate breakfast at home,” Sakura denied. “Sugar just helps me think.”

The knowing smirk on Kurenai’s face made Sakura want to say something nasty about the jounin’s taste in ‘protein supplements,’ but this time she managed to smother her irritation. “Would you like some dango?” she offered, putting on her sweetest, most innocent smile.

She must not have sounded sincere enough, for Kurenai gave her a guarded look before sitting down. “Is that so?” the red-eyed woman asked. Choosing a skewer, Kurenai brought it to her lips, biting and chewing with the practiced grace of a trained courtesan. “What are you thinking about?” Kurenai asked after swallowing.

“A lot of things about this mission have been bothering me,” Sakura replied, tearing into her own dango with far less delicacy. “The more I think about it, the less sense it makes- and it’s not just that I think it’s stupid,” she added, catching the look in Kurenai’s eye. “You know what I’ve been doing; _you_ tell me that you think it’s a good idea for me to be included in this.”

“I’d considered that as well,” Kurenai admitted with a slight nod of the head. Pursing her lips as Sakura polished off the rice-dough skewer, Kurenai took another dainty bite. “You don’t think it’s possible that they just trust me to keep you out of trouble?” she asked drolly. “I _am_ a jounin, you know.”

“I’m _already_ in a lot of trouble,” Sakura pointed out. Most of her troubles didn’t look like they’d be going away any time soon, either. “It just seems like a huge risk to take, especially since I probably won’t be able to do anything.” Frowning, Sakura savaged another stick of dango, washing it down with a swig of tea.

“After having a look at your family records, I’m inclined to agree with you,” Kurenai observed sardonically.

Seized by a coughing fit as something went down the wrong pipe, Sakura growled a curse that made both Kurenai and the shopkeeper wince. “Fuckin’ hell, Yuuhi! Are ya tryin’ ta kill me?” she snapped, glaring daggers at the older kunoichi.

“I’m sorry… Haruno-kun,” Kurenai replied slowly, turning in her seat to look directly at the pink-haired girl. “However, you could have simply told me that your parents were married here. There was no need to be so evasive; every child born in Konoha is in the same boat you are.”

Unprepared this blasé response, Sakura felt her anger fizzle. “I… yeah, I guess that true,” she conceded, coloring in embarrassment. “It’s just a little-”

The pall of doom descended on Sakura’s face as she realized what she had just said to the jounin. *FUCK! I called her Yuuhi, too!* And from the way Kurenai had but extra emphasis on Sakura’s name, the red-eyed woman had clearly caught her slip.

For several tense seconds, Kurenai peered critically at Sakura. “‘A little-’ what, Haruno-kun?” she prodded. “I must admit, I wasn’t able to dig very deeply into your personal records; most of your files have been _sealed_, so there are still many things about you that I’m very curious about.”

*Dammit, I do _not_ want to talk about this right now.* Casting around for some avenue of escape, Sakura had a flash of inspiration. “Can we discuss this later? I think I should go on ahead,” she declared with as much sincerity as she could muster.

“Oh? And why is that?” Kurenai pried with an incredulous tilt of the head.

*Better make this good,* Sakura mused, lining the words up in her head. “I think this meeting would go more smoothly if I arrived alone. He may not appreciate having an elite jounin of the Hidden Leaf just showing up on his doorstep, unannounced.” Sakura gave Kurenai a suggestive look.

Much to Sakura’s relief, this seemed to make the jounin think for a moment. This was another problem that Sakura had been mulling over; her grandfather- or rather, ‘The Lord Haruno’ was well known for his… views regarding ninja villages in general, and Konoha specifically, so it would probably be wise to tread carefully if they wanted his cooperation.

“Perhaps,” Kurenai finally allowed, though she didn’t look happy. “When did you plan on leaving?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm; she wasn’t fooled by Sakura’s flimsy excuse, but she could see the logic in the suggestion.

That was fine with Sakura; she wasn’t afraid of being a _little_ shameless to get her way. “I’ll leave immediately,” she replied. “Hopefully, he’ll have made a decision before you arrive, so we won’t have to waste any time.”

“Hmm…” The jounin’s expression grew pensive, and a hint of worry pinched the corners of Kurenai’s eyes. “I would still prefer to escort you there, even if need to send you on to the castle alone,” she noted in dissatisfaction. “As you said earlier, bringing you is a risk, and I would like to avoid any preventable mishaps.”

“I’ll be fine!” Sakura assured her, sweating bullets. “I’ve improved a lot since the exam, and it’s not that far! I don’t need anyone to look after me!”

Scooping up her pack, Sakura slung it over one shoulder. “I’m all ready to go, too!” she noted. The brunette didn’t have a traveling bag with her, but that was to be expected; it was still two hours before they were due to leave.

“It isn’t only your safety I’m worried about,” Kurenai corrected, giving Sakura a wry look that felt all too familiar. “Fine; I have a few more things to take care of this morning, so you may as well go on ahead. If I’m not delayed, I should catch up with you early this afternoon.”

*Yes! Safe!* Mentally pumping a fist in victory, Sakura lifted the shop curtain to leave. “Alright, see you in a few!” she chirped. With a hasty parting wave, Sakura stepped onto the street, throwing up her concealment jutsu and vanishing among the slowly wakening denizens of Konoha.

§

*Genjutsu?* Quickly performing the release technique, Kurenai thought she caught a flicker of pink weaving between a pair of early-morning joggers, but it was gone again before she could blink.

*Hmm… self-correcting?* Kurenai was impressed and troubled at the same time. It was uncommon for a first year genin to know even ’simple’ genjutsu, let alone anything that sophisticated. The more she saw of Haruno Sakura, the more of a mystery the girl became.

“Hah!”

Startled by the shopkeeper’s laugh, Kurenai looked back to find the man staring at the place where Sakura had been sitting. The old man was scratching his graying beard and grinning like a fool. Tracing his gaze, she noticed that Sakura’s tray of dango was empty. Hadn’t there been two or three left?

Turning to her, the sweet seller cleared his throat and schooled his face to a look of annoyance, though he seemed to be having some trouble suppressing a smile. “That’ll be three mon for the dango and tea,” he requested politely.

“_What?_ Oh, for the love of-” It didn’t take Kurenai long to realize what had happened; she’d been in this situation far more times than she cared to remember. “You didn’t make her pay when she ordered?” she asked skeptically.

Chuckling, the shopkeeper shook his head. “Didn’t think I needed to. She related to Anko-san?” he guessed.

“Perhaps,” Kurenai answered vaguely. She didn’t buy into the most far-fetched rumors about their relationship, but there was definitely more between Anko and Sakura than a simple student-teacher bond. For a few seconds during that last exchange, the resemblance had gone from cute to downright eerie.

*Dammit, Anko-chan, why do you always have to hand _me_ the suspiciously ticking box?* Kurenai lamented, reaching for her wallet with a long-suffering sigh.

§

*That was kind of bad.*

Finishing off her last stick of dango, Sakura contemplated the naked skewer before tossing it into a passing litter bin. She’d only gotten couple blocks away before realizing her mistake, but there was no way Kurenai was going to believe that she hadn’t done it on purpose.

Thinking about her actions stirred conflicting emotions in Sakura. She was ashamed of herself, but she was also exhilarated. Her limbs were light as she fled from the scene of the crime, and she felt like she could run for days. *Dammit, it’s wrong to feel good about stealing food!*

If Kurenai asked, she could probably think of some way to blame it on Anko without revealing her secret, but explaining it didn’t excuse it. “I’m no ‘perfect little angel,’ either,” Sakura reminded herself. However much she _tried_ to be good, every time she ‘met’ herself, Sakura couldn’t help but worry that maybe she wasn’t really the person she made herself out to be.

*This could get dangerous, though.* Whether or not acting more like Anko was the same thing as acting more like ‘herself,’ the fact remained that being near Kurenai seemed to made her ‘Anko’ impulses stronger, like the crazy woman in her head wanted to come out and play. Sakura had reacted on instinct when Kurenai had dropped the bomb about her family records.

*I really shouldn’t have freaked out like that.* Kurenai was right; her family situation wasn’t _that_ weird- but thankfully, it didn’t sound like the genjutsu master had heard any of the embarrassing details. Kurenai _had_ learned that her parents had gotten married in Konoha, however, and that was the important part.

Konoha didn’t allow any outside access to their family registers. This meant that Sakura’s parent had never married as far as the Fire Country was concerned, which made Sakura a bastard. While it wasn’t unheard of for bastard children to inherit property, they could only be granted hereditary title if there were no ‘legitimate’ heirs.

If Kurenai could get that much information about her family, it should have been no problem for the village council, so why bother with the pretence of ‘mistaking’ her for a noblewoman? This entire mission stunk of some sort of veiled agenda.

*Even if they just wanted to make it a ‘personal request,’ they could have made _that_ my mission.* It wasn’t like he would make it easy for them either way. *I guess Grandpa’s the only one who would do, though.*

The Lord Haruno enjoyed great of sovereignty over Ryuuzen province, a small concession to the fact that Konoha had claimed most of his lands as their own at the end of the last great ninja war. If he was willing to sign the peace treaty, there would be less pressure to inform the Daimyo of the invasion; it would become a ‘regional matter.’

Unfortunately, despite her earlier assurances to Kurenai, Sakura had no idea how she was going to convince her grandfather to cooperate. When it came to ninja affairs, it was impossible to predict which way he would jump from one moment to the next.

*Maybe it would have been better to wait for Kurenai-sensei.* From the way the jounin carried herself, Sakura got the strong impression that Kurenai had some experience with courtly politics; she’d probably spent some time undercover before she became a jounin.

Still, she hadn’t been lying when she said that it would be better if she arrived alone. It couldn’t be overstated that The Lord Haruno did _not_ like unexpected visitors. If her grandfather wanted to negotiate terms, Sakura would probably end up acting as go-between as well.

*I guess it’s a good thing they decided not to send anyone else, or we’d never get past the guard station,* Sakura mused ruefully, but as she approached the village wall Sakura noticed a familiar white-eyed girl standing in the shadow of the guard towers that flanked the main gate.

Hinata was dressed to travel, in loose black pants and a two-tone hooded coat. A backpack much like Sakura’s sat neatly at her side. The pale girl also looked unusually serious today; her gaze was fixed firmly on the road leading into town and her forehead protector was tied properly across her brow.

She probably wasn’t using her Byakugan, however, because she didn’t seem to notice Sakura’s stealthy approach- and neither did the chuunin guard standing beside her, for that matter.

*It’s that guy!* Sakura couldn’t recall the man’s name, but a sense of deja-vu filled her as she recognized the gate guard that had stopped her the last time she’d tried leave Konoha using genjutsu. *I guess I really have gotten better since then.*

The irony wasn’t lost on Sakura when Asano suddenly faded into view atop the village wall behind him. The rat-masked ANBU was probably warning Sakura not to skip town without checking with the guard. *I don’t think this is what he had in mind when he asked me if I was gonna try out for ANBU,* Sakura mused nostalgically.

Grinning at her watcher, the pink-haired girl un-shouldered her backpack, leaned forward and dug in her toes. Sprinting the last dozen yards to the gate, Sakura reveled in the feel of the wind against her face. Sakura had worn a brown oilcloth raincoat over her dress today and the canvas billowed behind her like wings as she spread her arms.

Planting her feet at the last moment, Sakura slid sideways in a small cloud of dust and fallen leaves, her long coat whipping around her legs. Crouching low, Sakura put her empty hand forward and threw the other over her shoulder like a samurai carrying a jug in a kabuki play.

“SURPRISE INSPECTION!” Sakura roared, releasing her genjutsu as she skidded to a halt in front of Hinata and the guard. “Haruno Sakura has arrived!”

Laughing as the pair fell into defensive stances, Sakura held the pose for a second, then dropped her bag and turned to the side, giving them her best impression of Gai’s ’solemn hero’ profile. “You’re both lucky I’m not a _real_ ANBU inspector,” she chastised gravely, crossing her arms. “In these dangerous times, one must be ever vigilant for unseen enemies!”

When Gai was coaching her, he’d made her do all sorts of silly ‘image training’ with him. He’d insisted that the stupid poses and corny one-liners would help her find her ’sense of style’ and learn to ‘project the power and beauty of youth,’ but Sakura had never found a use for them until now.

Surprisingly, it was Hinata who recovered first. Covering her mouth with one hand, the shy girl tried to suppress a fit of giggles that bubbled up in her throat. “W-wow! That was so _cool_, Sakura-chan!” she exclaimed, her pale cheeks flushed pink with amusement.

Sakura could imagine a hundred stone-faced Hyuuga ancestors turning in their graves at the sight, and the image made her smile. *She says it’s cool, but she’s still laughing.* Hinata had a weird idea of what constituted ‘cool,’ Sakura decided.

Breaking character, the pink-haired girl gave her ‘victims’ an ironic grin. “Thanks, Hinata-chan. Sorry if I startled you guys,” she apologized.

Sakura’s grin grew mischievous as she turned to the guard, who had just begun to relax. “You both looked so _attentive_, I just couldn’t resist,” she teased.

Looking past him to the walls above, Sakura watched Asano fade from view once more. Her body language wasn’t nearly as expressive as Yoshinari’s, but Sakura could guess what she was thinking. *Sheesh, it was just a joke!*

The chuunin must have noticed her gaze, for he shifted his stance to take a look around. He was too slow to catch the Hunter nin, however. Returning his attention to Sakura, he put on a pained smile of his own. “Are you trying to get me into trouble with Anko-sama again?” he joked half-seriously.

“Since when has Nee-chan needed an excuse?” Sakura countered, a little sore at the insinuation. She’d almost faltered at calling Anko, ‘Nee-chan,’ but the cloud of confusion that slipped over the chuunin’s face was priceless.

Reluctantly reining herself in, Sakura put on a straight face and reached into her coat for her travel papers. “I’m visiting family outside the village,” she explained, handing over the documents for inspection. “I was supposed to have an escort, but I’m leaving a little ahead of schedule. I shouldn’t be in any danger.”

Glancing at Hinata, who was watching her anxiously, Sakura decided that she wouldn’t mind the company. “Unless you want to come with me, Hinata-chan, since you’re here already? Kurenai-sensei can catch up with us later.” Hinata was only a genin, so her grandfather probably wouldn’t mind _too_ much.

The pale girl seemed surprised by the suggestion, and Sakura could see the indecision gnawing at Hinata as she reflexively glanced down at her feet before catching herself and looking at Sakura’s face instead. “I’m not…” Chewing her lip, Hinata wouldn’t make eye contact, but after a second she gave a jerky nod. “I- yes, that would be fine.”

Clearly, something was bothering her former classmate. *Dammit, I hope it’s not those stupid rumors again.* Hiding her displeasure, Sakura waved as if to dismiss the idea. “You don’t have to come with me if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“No, it’s nothing!” Hinata blurted, shaking her head emphatically. “I just- um- w-we should let Kurenai-sensei know,” she suggested, her voice rapidly dropping to the squeaky near-whisper that Sakura was accustomed to hearing from the timid kunoichi.

*At least she’s trying,* Sakura mused sadly. Maybe she was reading Hinata wrong, but it would make her feel better if the other girl would open up a bit; it didn’t _feel_ like nothing. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Sakura assured her nervous new traveling companion, not letting her smile slip an inch.

Addressing the guard again, Sakura tried to look responsible. “Yuuhi Kurenai should be leaving the village at around eight AM today. Could you make sure she’s informed that Hyuuga Hinata departed with me?” she asked.

Re-folding Sakura’s travel papers, the chuunin looked even more bewildered than before. “I should still be on duty then, but… um…” Probably stumbling over how he should address her, he respectfully returned the documents, holding them with both hands. “Ma’am? Might it not be better to wait for the rest of your escort? It would only be a couple hours’ delay.”

“Are you implying that the roads in Ryuuzen province are _unsafe_?” Sakura scoffed in what she hoped was a convincingly offended tone.

Unfortunately, this time the guard didn’t appear to be buying it. Frowning, he gave her a look that said, ‘You should know better than that.’

“C’mon, it’s not like we’re gonna get ambushed on the road to _Ryuuzai Castle_,” Sakura whined in exasperation. “And besides, we aren’t exactly defenseless: Hinata-chan is a Hyuuga, the ‘Mightiest Clan of the Leaf,’ and I-”

He’d never believe her if she told him that she’d captured an entire squad of Hidden Sound ninja; Sakura hardly believed it herself. “I’m Mitarashi Anko’s student,” Sakura finished dryly, trying her best to sound proud while at the same time lowering her voice so nobody else would hear. “Anybody that messes with us is gonna wish they hadn’t!”

Something seemed to click in the chuunin’s expression, like a little mechanical bird popping out of a cuckoo clock. “Mitarashi Anko’s… student?” he repeated slowly. At Sakura’s nod, his eyes drifted to the pocket where she’d just stowed her travel papers.

“You aren’t authorized for that information,” Sakura warned.

The guard brought his right hand up to his face and began massaging the bridge of his nose, as if he felt a headache coming on. “I see… well, then… I suppose you can go,” he replied haltingly, waving them through in defeat. “I’ll inform Yuuhi-san of your departure.”

“Thank you!” Grabbing up her backpack, Sakura fairly skipped across the threshold, settling the straps of the bag comfortably across both shoulders for the trip ahead.

Waving to the guard and following with noticeably more restraint, Hinata darted Sakura a questioning look. “You… you have family at Ryuuzai Castle, Sakura-chan?” she asked tentatively.

*I guess she hasn’t been briefed yet,* Sakura observed. It would probably be best to leave the explanations to Kurenai-sensei, but she could at least give Hinata some need-to-know information. It didn’t look like Hinata had even made the name connection. *Maybe she hasn’t studied Fire Country politics; as the Hyuuga heir, I guess she can’t exactly go undercover.*

As they crossed the wide clearing between the village walls and the forest, Sakura peered askance at the white-eyed girl. “Hinata-chan, do you know which noble house governs the Ryuuzen province?” she asked with a cryptic smirk.

§

“But what if your uncles dropped the charges?” Hinata prodded insistently. “Then, couldn’t your parents get married?”

“They’d never do it. To them, my Dad’s no better than a kidnapper,” Sakura dismissed. Crossing her arms behind her head, Sakura stared up at the rapidly graying sky, but out of the corner of her eye she continued to watch her companion curiously.

*She’s in a good mood today.* On top of that, the Hyuuga heiress seemed positively enthralled with Sakura’s awkward family history. Sakura had ended up telling Hinata a lot more than she’d originally intended to, just to see how the other girl would react.

Biting her lip, Hinata wore an intense expression, like she _knew_ she could find a solution if she just thought about it hard enough. Her resolve lasted all of five seconds before she gave Sakura another bashful, guileless smile. “It’s so romantic, though!” she sighed dreamily.

“It is not!” Stretching her arms above her head then lazily dropping to her sides, Sakura sighed in exasperation. “I know it sounds like something outta some silly romance manga, but when a _real_ nobleman can’t keep his pants on and gets a _real_ farm girl pregnant, there’s nothing even remotely romantic about what happens next.”

“He came back, though!” Hinata pointed out brightly. “The poor samurai came back after making his fortune, but he had to spirit his true love away from her overprotective brothers. It’s just like in a story! There’s even a princess raised as a ninja- ne, Sakura-hime?”

“Now you’re just teasing me,” Sakura deadpanned, not feeling any real animosity toward the giggling brunette. It was nice to see Hinata relaxed for a change. *It still sounds more like something out of one of broom-head’s dirty books, though.*

Sakura favored the white-eyed girl with a skeptical look. “The _real_ Lady Haruno would skin us _both_ alive if she ever heard you call me that; Grandma hates _me_ even more than Mom’s family hates Dad. Plus, Dad’s not even a samurai anymore, he’s just a merchant. If this were a story and my Dad were the hero, he’d be the lamest hero ever.”

Unconvinced, Hinata glanced to the side and began fidgeting with the drawstring of her hood, the corners of her mouth pinched into a tiny frown. “He still sounds cool to me,” she protested quietly.

*Damn, looks like I upset her.* Kicking herself, Sakura wracked her brain for something else that might coax the shy girl out of her shell. *Hmm, forbidden romance…* A flash of inspiration lit behind wicked emerald eyes, and Sakura gave Hinata a conspiratorial grin. “Heh, if you think _that’s_ cool, listen to this!”

§

It was about six months after Lord Taishakuji had ascended as Daimyo of the Fire Country, but already the quiet, peaceful days of his grandfather’s reign had nearly been forgotten.

Both Lord Haruno and Lord Satsuma had died protecting the previous Daimyo, leaving the country’s noble defenders in chaos. Banditry and piracy were rampant, and every day it seemed like there were more petitioners on the road, all of them crawling to Konoha to bid on promises of ‘protection.’

After his confirmation, the new Lord Haruno wasted no time in dispersing us back to our home provinces- ‘to help prevent another tragedy,’ he said. Perhaps he knew what was coming, or maybe he just thought, like all of those other pampered bureaucrats, that there was no need for the Fire Country to have an army as long as we had our great ‘allies,’ The Hidden Leaf.

Either way, by that time there were only twenty of us left, men and boys who had no homes to return to. We were not mere rural samurai, doing service under some ancient law, we were the Lord Haruno’s men, and we would defend Ryuuzai Castle to the end- though few of us thought that the end would arrive so soon.

They came in the dead of night, trying to take us by surprise. We were no fools, though; this was what we’d trained for. The first Hidden Stone ninja to poke his head out of the ground took an arrow in the eye for his trouble. After that, with the element of surprise lost, the battle began in earnest.

I’m not dumb enough to believe that they sent so many men because they thought they would need them; they wanted to use Ryuuzai Castle as a staging point for an assault on Konoha, so they brought their entire expeditionary force. I doubt they expected to lose six squads just taking the walls.

When the foundations for this castle were laid, before Konoha or the Fire Country even existed, the Warlord had priests and spiritualists offer sacrifices to the gods, consecrating each and every stone. The Hidden Stone couldn’t use their earth moving techniques to bypass our defenses, so they were forced to climb, scaling the walls one bloody foot at a time.

You see how they curve inward? That made it easy for us to pick off would-be intruders with our bows without exposing ourselves too much.

Unfortunately, while their techniques couldn’t affect the castle itself, they could still use the island around us. They breached the gate with giant iron spears that exploded from the earth, then started swarming in, five at a time, trying to overwhelm us. We’d split our forces between the walls and the outer courtyard, so we weren’t unprepared, but-

What does this have to do with your grandmother? She was there, child! I’m just getting to that part. Patience is a virtue that you would be wise to learn if you wish to live long in this world.

As I was saying, even with the defender’s advantage, we were still outnumbered ten to one. The fighting was bloody between the outlying buildings, and it soon became clear that we wouldn’t be able to hold them long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

Before the battle started, it had been agreed that if defeat seemed inevitable, one of us would attempt to flee the castle and take the Lady Haruno to safety. Though it pained me to abandon my comrades, I was selected for this duty; as the youngest and most junior vassal of the Lord, I could not refuse.

As midnight approached I began making my way back to the inner castle. It was impossible to say how many ninja we had killed by that point, but I could count five of our own among the fallen, a quarter of our number; it was time to escape.

Moving quickly from building to building to avoid eyes on the rooftops above, I reached the inner wall without incident. Though the courtyard crawled with ninja, there were still archers on the outer walls and the enemy hadn’t yet reached the keep.

I didn’t detect any signs of battle as I descended into the deepest part of the castle, but I knew it was only a matter of time. The great wooden doors of the cold cellar were closed when I arrived, and two women with naginata stood before them.

“Seinan-dono,” Lady Matsunori called, not lowering her weapon.

“What happened to ‘Sei-kun,’ auntie?” I countersigned, remembering my part.

Relaxing slightly, the iron-haired matron nodded in acknowledgment. The Lord Matsunori was the oldest of us, well past the age when most men would have put down their swords, and his wife had always treated me like a favorite grandchild.

Beside her, Lady Shouda rapped on the door with the butt of her spear, and after a few moments it opened just enough to let me in. After the door was closed and barred behind me and I was confronted by the very last thing I was expecting to see: the shiny, shaved head of a monk.

“Yo, Sei!” Kuroda Takeshi greeted me, smiling serenely.

Takeshi? When did he get here?

“I arrived last night while you were on patrol. I’m here to assist brother Itsuki as he guides the Lady Haruno through her time of mourning,” he explained, glancing to the back of the storeroom. Now I noticed other voices, and between the rows of straw-packed crates and clay pickle vats I could see some lamps burning.

Walking with purpose, I wasn’t surprised when my childhood friend fell in step beside me. “He’s doing a _hell_ of a job,” I grumbled, letting him know what I thought of his mentor’s efforts. The Lady Haruno hadn’t left her chambers in weeks. We were starting to wonder if she had taken ill.

“We can only do so much if she does not wish to progress,” Takeshi chided in that wise, lecturing tone that monks like to use; it didn’t suit him at all. “How is brother Itsuki, anyway? Still alive, I hope?”

“Still alive,” I confirmed. Last time I saw him he was up to his neck in ninja, laying them out with his staff like he was one of the eight wrathful gods himself.

“That’s good,” Takeshi replied easily. He said something after that, but I don’t recall what it was. We’d reached the small huddle of wives and retainers at the back of the room and my attention was totally captured by the vision that stood before me.

Like an apparition, the Lady Haruno was transformed. Pale as the moon and swathed in robes of mourning, she wore her grief like a shroud. Her eyes were hollow and empty, like the eyes of a doll. Her hair, once long and elegant, the color of cherry blossoms in full bloom, had been cut brutally short, and what remained had been dyed black as crow feathers.

Eh? Yes, she did; still does. Yes, just like yours- but don’t tell her I told you that. In fact, it would probably be best if you didn’t mention it at all.

As I was saying, I barely recognized her. For as long as I’d served her father, the old Lord Haruno, Renge-hime had always been as bright and refreshing as a warm spring day. I’d even dreamed of marrying her someday, though I knew it was impossible. I almost forgot why I had come, when I saw her like that.

Fortunately for all of us, one of the household servants reminded me. “We are ready, Seinan-dono.”

Shaking myself out of the daze I had fallen into, I nodded to the kitchen maid. “Well, then, let’s go.”

Surveying the dozen odd men and women that would be escaping with us, I couldn’t find anything lacking in their preparations. I waved for them to follow me to the northeast corner of the storeroom. Nobody went back to get Lady Matsunori and Lady Shouda; they would follow their husbands ahead of us, buying us as much time as they could.

Someone had already taken the lid off of the huge pickle vat in the corner, revealing a dark pit that extended down through the floor of the room. One by one, the servants crawled down into the vat, two of them helping the barely responsive Lady Haruno into the cramped tunnel below.

Going last, I braced my feet against the curved bottom of the vat and reached over to the grab the lid and heavy pickling stone that were sitting atop the crates beside me. Balancing them above my head, I crouched down, sealing the lid above me. I had to grope in the darkness for a moment to find the footholds in the tunnel below.

Climbing down, I stopped when my head was still in the vat and felt for the metal pipe that protruded slightly from the back wall. A gush of brackish water hit me in the face when I unscrewed the cap, and though I scrambled down the ladder and sealed the portal above me as fast as I could, I was still drenched in pickle juice when I reached the others.

Hopefully there weren’t any Hidden Stone ninja that could track by scent, because I stunk fiercely. Apparently, the pickles in the reservoir hidden in the wall hadn’t been changed in quite some time. The smell alone might’ve kept them from investigating the vat too closely, when they found it.

Taking the lead once again, I accepted a hand lantern from one of the servants and started down the tunnel. The passage was barely tall enough for me to stand up straight, and dust and cobwebs coated my sodden clothes by the time we’d passed under the castle walls.

We crawled along, single file, for what seemed like hours before we finally reached the end of the tunnel. Pushing aside an ancient wooden wardrobe admitted us into the cellar of an abandoned farmstead about two miles east of the castle proper.

“Stay here,” I commanded, motioning for Takeshi to follow me as I crept up the stairs. Luck was with me this time, for the main floor looked undisturbed.

Putting a hand on the monk’s shoulder, I nodded silently for him to go back down the stairs and get the others. Then, when he turned around, I unsheathed my sword with my free hand and beheaded him on the spot, not resheathing my weapon until his body crumpled to the ground and lay still for several seconds. A glance at the head, which had bounced across the room, filled me with relief; it wasn’t Takeshi after all.

How did I know? Instinct, child; my gut told me something was wrong. Takeshi would never visit the castle without coming to find me as soon as he could sneak away, and this man was far too quiet when he moved. Plus, it always pays to have someone on the inside. His arrival was too coincidental to ignore.

After hacking the limbs off of the corpse for good measure, I checked the perimeter of the house. The Takeshi impostor wouldn’t have been able to use any ninja techniques to signal his allies while we were surrounded by the consecrated stones of the castle, and the invaders wouldn’t have anything larger than a scouting party so far east, so I judged we were probably safe for the moment.

Dividing our party, I instructed the servants and wives to head south toward the Tosa river, avoiding the main roads, while I took the Lady Haruno north into the mountains. Renge-hime, who had not spoken a word to anyone since I’d arrived, could barely shamble along faster than a walk, so I was forced to carry her on my back.

Still, we made good time, and before the sun started to rise we were nearing the foothills of the Ryuusei mountains. We sheltered in caves and gullies for more than a week before a team of trackers from Konoha, hired by the new Lord Haruno, came to find us.

After being whisked away to the capital, I learned that none of my comrades had survived the siege, but the Hidden Stone’s forces had been so weakened in the taking of Ryuuzai castle that they’d decided to retreat back across the border rather than attack Konoha. Only a hundred men, barely half of their original number, had remained when the Hidden Leaf crushed them in the Valley of the End.

One hundred ninja, killed by twenty swordsmen, a senile monk and two old ladies; I got a good, long laugh out of that. I’m sure the old Lord Haruno would have approved, though his younger brother seemed to think my humor was in poor taste. After thanking me for delivering his niece to him safe and sound, he had a servant press a string of coins into my hand and show me to the door.

That probably would have been the end of my service to the Fire Country, had a pair of constables not found me in a run-down flop house two months later. They brought me once again before the Lord Haruno, this time so he could rail at me for ‘raping’ his poor, recently orphaned ward. The Lady Haruno was nowhere to be seen when the purple-faced buffoon made this accusation, but I could guess what had happened.

As a nobleman, having been elevated to that ‘lofty’ position by the girl’s own father, I was forced to defend my reputation. I had done nothing without the Lady’s consent, and if she was with child then I was prepared to accept full responsibility.

The Lord Haruno would have none of it. I won’t go into the details- that blow-hard must have vomited obscenities at me for nearly ten minutes. In the end, he commanded that I commit suicide before the Daimyo’s court to atone for my sin.

As I’d done nothing wrong, I refused, and challenged him to a duel. He’d dirtied both Renge-hime’s honor and my own with his false accusations, and if he would not permit us to cleanse our names in the eyes of Heaven, then I would let the gods decide who was in the wrong.

Now, normally a mere constable would appeal to a higher authority when asked to witness a duel of such gravity, but apparently the new Lord Haruno wasn’t well-liked in the capital. Silencing his protests with a grave stare, one of those solemn arbiters led us out to the garden while the other had a servant fetch our swords.

While the city-soft dandy was belting on his weapon, the first constable asked me to formally declare my intent to marry the Lady Haruno and accept all the duties and responsibilities of her estate if I survived. I did so without hesitation, and then struck down my former liege with a single blow the moment the law men stepped out of the way.

Neither of them seemed to think this unsporting, and the matter was concluded. Everything happened in such a blur that I still wonder if it wasn’t all a set-up. Renge-hime hardly reacted at all when she returned from her doctor to find her uncle dead by my hand, but that might have been due to her already fragile state of mind.

In any event, the ink on the marriage contract was still wet when I knelt before the Daimyo and presented myself as “Lord Haruno Seinan of Ryuuzen,” with Renge-hime sitting quietly at my side, and we’ve been together ever since…

 ”The Lord Haruno isn’t the _real_ Lord Haruno?!” Hinata sputtered, forgetting her impeccable Hyuuga manners for a moment. “And your grandmother, was it really- or did he-” Holding her hands out like she wasn’t sure what to do with them, Hinata stared beseechingly at the other girl.

“Oh, he’s the ‘real’ Lord Haruno,” Sakura cautioned, wincing at a memory of her grandfather tanning her behind pinker than her hair for making that same mistake. “He just married into the family. I guess it caused a big stir in the capital until grandpa started challenging the gossipmongers to duels. It quieted down after that.”

Regarding her companion with some trepidation, Sakura wondered if she hadn’t told Hinata too much. The white-eyed girl’s reaction was a bit more than she was expecting.

“As to the other part… I dunno. I can’t imagine Grandma staying with him if he’d really raped her.” It was pretty hard to fathom why she stayed with him at all; the Lady Haruno that Sakura knew was _completely_ different from the ‘Renge-hime’ in her grandfather’s story.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard about it before, though,” Sakura noted incredulously. “The Lord Haruno is pretty famous, and they taught us about the failed invasion by the Hidden Stone in history class.”

Collecting herself a bit, Hinata still looked terribly confused. “I- I don’t remember Iruka-sensei describing it like that,” she replied defensively.

“Yeah, Grandpa says Konoha would lose ‘prestige’ if we admitted how hard it would be for us to take Ryuuzai Castle; that’s why they don’t tell us how many Hidden Stone really died there,” Sakura explained.

The old man had actually laughed at her when she’d told him Iruka-sensei’s version of events. “He showed me the mountain of ninja gear they collected after the battle, though. All of those Hidden Stone forehead protectors looked pretty authentic to me, and there were a lot more than twenty of them.”

Humming uncertainly to herself, Hinata looked down at her feet. “B-but I don’t think Iruka-sensei would lie to us.”

“He might not know about it. The battle happened before he was born,” Sakura suggested, though she suspected that the kind-faced chuunin knew the truth, whatever it was. Sakura was just starting to grasp the true depth the shady internal politics that went on in Konoha, but The Battle of Ryuuzai Castle and the Kyuubi cover-up were only the tip of the iceberg.

Unfortunately, now Hinata seemed even more troubled than before, which was the opposite of what Sakura had been trying for. “So, wha’dya think? Pretty wild, right?” She prodded hopefully. “The nameless hero of a forgotten battle saves the princess and becomes a Lord overnight; now _that’s_ something out of a story.”

It took a few seconds, but slowly the frown melted from Hinata’s face, replaced by a familiar, timid smile. “Yeah, but you skipped all of the romantic parts,” the heiress accused.

Crossing her arms, Sakura snorted grumpily. “He didn’t tell me any of ‘em. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older,’ he said.”

Giggling at Sakura’s mock irritation, Hinata relaxed a bit more. “How old were you when he told you that story?” she asked.

“_Nine_,” Sakura spat. “I’d asked him why he and Grandma got married. He didn’t have any problems telling me all the gory details of the battle, but he wouldn’t say _anything_ about how they ended up… you know.”

Catching herself, the green-eyed girl clamped her mouth shut. If she wasn’t careful she’d end up saying something offensive, and then Hinata would think she was some sort of pervert- if she didn’t think so already. *And she’d probably be right.*

Nodding in understanding, Hinata stuffed her hands in her pockets and stared ahead, as if she were looking toward their destination. “I don’t know why you think your family is boring, Sakura-chan. Your grandfather doesn’t sound boring at all,” she pointed out.

“Well… yeah, I guess that’s true,” Sakura admitted. “Grandpa isn’t boring. In fact, a lot of people think he’s a little _too_ exciting,” she mused sheepishly.

“Hmm?” The brunette gave her another curious look.

“You really haven’t heard of him?” At Hinata’s hesitant shake of the head, Sakura grimaced. Even if this was _Hinata_, things could get dicey for a ninja in Ryuuzai Castle if she didn’t know what to expect. The skies seemed to sense Sakura’s worry, and thunder pealed in the distance as a stray raindrop struck her cheek.

“There are a few things I’d better tell you, then,” Sakura warned, turning up her coat collar and feeling a twinge of envy as Hinata pulled up her hood. *Dammit, forgot to bring a hat.* This was already shaping up to be another _beautiful_ day on planet Sakura (population: at least three).

§

Slowing to a jog, Sakura tried to control her heavy, labored breathing and looked back to see how far behind Hinata was. *This is harder than I thought,* she mused wearily.

In theory, if she could use chakra to support her own body weight on the surface of a moving river, it should have been easy to ward off a few measly little raindrops. In practice, however, releasing chakra from your hands or feet was _much_ easier than, say, releasing it from the back of your head.

Despite her best efforts, Sakura’s hair was noticeably damp, and she was quickly tiring herself out. It was good practice, though; she could almost feel her chakra flow becoming more even and efficient as she maintained the technique.

*And it’s safer than trying to do ground fighting drills stuck to the ceiling,* Sakura decided; she still had bruises from her first embarrassing training session with Yoshinari. *If that’s a _real_ Hyuuga training method, it’s a wonder there are any of them left.* She’d have to ask Hinata about it later.

As if summoned, a black and gray-clad figure leapt from the trees and hurried to Sakura’s side. Hunched low, Hinata used one hand to hold her hood down against the driving rain that slashed at her as she emerged onto the muddy road. “Sakura-chan?” she called questioningly over the howl of the wind.

“We’re getting close to the castle,” Sakura explained. “They patrol the forests and roads around here pretty carefully. We don’t want to look like we’re trying to sneak by them.”

“Ah.” Nodding in understanding, the shorter girl straightened a bit, and Sakura could see that her cheeks were flushed. The unexpected hint of color made Hinata look cute, but it was obvious that she was struggling to keep up the hard pace they’d set since it started raining.

As tired as she was herself, the pink-haired girl felt a surge of pride that her stamina training hadn’t gone to waste. Still, she was glad that Hinata was her escort, and not Kiba or Shino. Neither of the boys would have been the least bit winded by now.

“Just a little farther, Hinata-chan,” Sakura assured her companion breathlessly.

Not wasting any energy on speech, the brunette simply nodded again, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

They ran on in silence for a few more miles as the forests on either side slowly surrendered to rolling hills dotted with farm houses and rice paddies. Eventually these too fell away, replaced by an astonishingly flat, stony plain that did nothing to hide the looming gray wart on the horizon that was Ryuuzai castle.

*’Flat land can be a disadvantage against cavalry or siege engines, but it’s the hardest terrain for ninja navigate.’* That’s what her grandfather had told her, and it was probably true. The castle had a commanding view in every direction, and unless you wanted to waste chakra on concealment techniques, there wasn’t a whole lot of cover to be found.

On this grim, featureless canvass, the tall wooden crosses that were scattered across the plain stood out like words on an empty page. Surprisingly, Hinata didn’t seem to notice them at first. It wasn’t until she caught Sakura staring at one that she commented. “There are a lot of them.”

“Un.” Sakura nodded in agreement. “They don’t re-use them until the body’s rotted away or has been picked clean by birds and wild dogs, so they have to put up more if they’ve got a lot of ‘examples’ to make.”

Sakura didn’t see the hundred crosses they would have needed for all of the Hidden Stone ninja that died in the invasion, but there were probably more on the northern face of the castle. As they drew nearer, both girls were surprised to find that they cross they were staring at was occupied.

“H-Hidden Sand?” Hinata whispered in disbelief, eyeing the forehead protector that hung loosely around the black, bloated neck of the badly putrefied body.

“The uniform fits,” Sakura noted in mild disgust, looking away. “I guess some of them came close to the castle during the invasion.” That would definitely put her grandfather in a bad mood, especially if any of his men had died during the assault on Konoha.

“There are more,” Hinata mumbled, squinting at some of the other nearby crosses. “Hidden Sound as well.”

Looking up, the green-eyed kunoichi picked out enough rotting corpses for two four-man squads before she stopped counting. *Too many bodies. There was a skirmish here, at least,* she assessed, doubting anew the wisdom of calling on the Lord Haruno as a signatory to the truce.

Sakura kept these dark thoughts to herself when she noticed a party of four samurai in straw hats and raincoats approaching them on foot from the direction of the castle. “Here comes our escort,” she cautioned.

Stiffening, Hinata nodded. Though her face was closed and unreadable once more, Sakura could feel nervousness radiating from the smaller girl. After seeing what happened to ninja the Lord Haruno _didn’t_ like, Sakura could hardly blame her.

“We have a valid reason to be here, and they know me. We should be fine,” Sakura reassured her friend, ignoring the uncertainty that gnawed at her stomach like the maggots eating the dead men that surrounded them. “We’ll be fine…” she repeated hollowly.

§

“You’re _very_ lucky your grandmother isn’t here to see this.”

Placing the unopened letter on his desk, Haruno Seinan gave his granddaughter a hard stare, clasping his hands before his mouth with the aura of a judge preparing to pass sentence. “I’ll read what it says in a moment, but why don’t you give it to me in a nutshell; what does the Hidden Leaf want with ‘_Lady_ Haruno Sakura?’”

Grimacing at the emphasis on her newly discovered peerage, Sakura decided that trying to spin things for her grandfather probably wouldn’t get her very far. “Konoha is ready to end hostilities with the Hidden Sand,” she stated bluntly.

When The Lord Haruno quirked an eyebrow, Sakura continued. “We want a representative of the Lord of Ryuuzen province to witness the peace treaty- probably so it won’t need to go any farther.” That last bit was conjecture on her part, but she wanted her grandfather to know that she’d thought of it, because he certainly would.

Cracking a wry smile, the Lord of Ryuuzen nodded in approval. “I expected as much.” Picking up the envelope again, the self-styled ‘last warlord of the Fire Country’ pulled out the letter and unfolded it on the desk in front of him.

Sakura took this as an invitation to walk around and read over his shoulder, leaning on the plush leather armrest of his office chair. For as long as she’d been allowed to visit him, her grandfather had always encouraged her watch him when he worked.

The Lord Haruno was proud of the duty he upheld as the Fire Country’s ‘Minister of the Left,’ head of the country’s modest army. As his eldest grandchild was effectively ‘the enemy,’ he seemed to take special delight in showing her how strong and competent he was as the ‘one true defender’ of the Fire Country.

On this occasion, however, something didn’t quite fit. “When did you start wearing foreign suits, grandpa?” Sakura prodded, peering at the charcoal gray jacket and slacks that had been hidden behind the imposing oaken slab of his desk.

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, the Lord Haruno continued to read while he replied. “Your uncle Hachi told me that they make me look younger.” Turning more of his attention to Sakura, his smile widened. “What do you think? Is he right?”

Since she’d already memorized the letter, the young kunoichi decided to indulge her grandfather, and backed away for a better look. Sakura had always thought that her grandfather had a slightly villainous air, with his narrow, angular face, high cheekbones, hawkish nose and dark eyes that always seemed to find the things she tried to hide.

“You need to grow a beard, Grandpa,” Sakura quipped, grinning uneasily at her grandfather’s smooth, unlined face and long black hair, pulled back in a stylish ponytail rather than a topknot. Even in the kimono he normally wore, he scarcely looked old enough to even _have_ grandchildren. In a suit…

Sakura would be embarrassed to be seen with him in public; he looked so slimy and sinister, she just _knew_ he’d end up hitting on every lonely housewife that crossed his path. “You look like a lawyer!” she needled.

Laughing and wincing at the imagined blow, Haruno Seinan gave his granddaughter a hurt look. “What a horrible thing to say. Is that any way to talk to your grandfather?”

“I thought you didn’t like it when people sugar-coated things?” Sakura countered.

“There’s a fine line between sugar-coating something and having a shred of tact.”

“That sounds really weird coming from you, Grandpa.” Her grandfather was the last person Sakura wanted a lecture from about ‘tact’- after Anko and Naruto, of course, who probably didn’t even know what the word meant.

“Hmpf!” Turning his nose up at her, her grandfather made a show of returning his attention to the letter. “I don’t remember my adorable, polite little granddaughter having such a smart mouth the last time she visited,” he grumped.

Paling, Sakura cast her gaze to the floor. “Ah- s-sorry,” she mumbled apologetically. She really needed to be more careful around her family and friends. Sometimes it was too easy to forget how much she’d changed in the last few weeks.

“What’s that look for?” Her grandfather’s feigned offense was instantly replaced by a look of confusion. “I’m not mad at you,” he assured the pink-haired girl, turning in his chair to face her. Sensing his granddaughter’s mood, he stood up and walked over, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Sakura, is something bothering you?”

Clenching her jaw, Sakura fought the urge to pull away. It didn’t look like she was going to get better, so she had to start telling people _something_. “Yeah, I guess so,” she admitted lamely.

Cursing herself for sounding weak, Sakura steeled her resolve and lifted her gaze, only to feel awkward and foolish in the face of the concern reflected in her grandfather’s eyes. “Uh… I- I just… I don’t think I’m as nice as you think I am,” she confessed.

Forcing a crooked smile, Sakura tried to ignore the dampness at the corners of her eyes. “Actually, I’m sure I’m not, not anymore… or maybe I never was. Either way, I haven’t been so good at hiding it lately, and I’ve nearly lost a couple friends because of that.”

Sighing deeply, Haruno Seinan pulled his granddaughter into a gentle embrace. “Sakura, I’ve always been proud to have such a mature, intelligent grandchild- but you think too much. I have three sons; Hachi is only a few years older than you are. Do you think I don’t know that teenagers are a pain in the ass?”

At Sakura’s indignant squeak, he gave her a playful squeeze, mussing her candy-floss locks before letting her go. “You’re a good kid, but anyone who thinks that all cute little girls are as innocent as they seem needs to get his head examined. I don’t expect you to be an angel, I expect you to be a Haruno- and you know what _we’re_ like.”

Chuckling, the Lord of Ryuuzai placed his hands on his hips, peering at her thoughtfully. “That’s not the only thing that’s bothering you, is it?” he decided. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine with me. It’s good for kids to find their own answers; I know you have enough sense to ask for help if you need it.”

Pausing when Sakura leaned forward to return the hug, her grandfather gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “I have no idea where you get _that_ from,” he noted, smirking bemusedly. “Probably your mother, since I know you didn’t inherit it from Renge or myself.”

“Probably,” Sakura agreed with a sniffle, straightening and moving to sit on the edge of the desk. Her grandfather’s backhanded compliments actually made her feel a lot better. She didn’t need to be ‘perfect’ for him, but he wasn’t going to pull any punches with her either. “Mom worries too much. I wish she would trust me a little more.”

“She’s your mother, Sakura,” her grandfather rebuffed mildly. “She has a hard job. Besides, I’ll bet you do all sorts of things to make her worry, especially now that you’ve started working. Speaking of which…”

Flipping over the envelope to expose the name once more, the dark-haired man glanced at it questioningly. “You’re a ninja of the Hidden Leaf, not a Lady of the Haruno clan,” he stated with a bit of disgust. “Who do they think they’re fooling with this garbage?”

“I wish I knew,” Sakura admitted, frowning in annoyance. “It sounds suspicious to me. The only reason I could think of was that they wanted to get the request to you without going through official channels.”

Too late, Sakura realized that telling her grandfather her suspicions probably wasn’t the best way to convince him to go along with it. *He doesn’t trust Konoha at all, though. He probably already thought of that.*

Nodding, her grandfather picked up the letter, eyeing it critically. “That’s a plausible explanation, but what incentive in there for me to play along? Without my cooperation you’ve simply wasted both of our time and you’re worse off than you started.”

“Incentive?” Sakura repeated in disbelief. “What about no more Sand nins coming into the country to kill people?”

Her grandfather dismissed the suggestion with a tiny shake of the head. “They’ll keep coming. The merchant cartels of the Wind Country have been sending assassins to ‘discourage’ their foreign competitors for years. The only thing that changes is who they’re killing.”

“If you agree to sign the treaty, they won’t be coming to kill _me_,” Sakura pointed out.

The old man gave her a challenging grin. “You’re always welcome to stay with me if things get too hot in Konoha. You’re family, no matter what your grandmother says. You’d have to quit being a ninja, of course.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Sakura quipped ironically. “They made me quit yesterday.”

“Eh?”

“To resolve the ‘divided loyalties’ issue, they made me dissolve my ties to Konoha. If it weren’t for the timing, it wouldn’t even be suspicious; it’s common for genin to quit after failing the Chuunin Exam,” Sakura explained, balking only slightly at the mention her shame.

“So you failed?” her grandfather observed, his voice betraying neither disappointment nor approval.

“Yeah; I wasn’t ready for it, I guess,” Sakura sighed. It was far easier to admit that to herself now. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to try again, but she knew that she’d gotten stronger. Someday she would be ready.

“I see.” Nodding in understanding, the Lord Haruno apparently decided to let the matter drop. “But if you’re not a ninja anymore, they can’t order you to go to the Wind Country and sign this treaty,” he observed clinically.

“No, but my reinstatement may hinge on my cooperation.” That was the impression she’d gotten when she’d signed her resignation forms, anyway; it still kind of bothered her. “Normally, once you’re out, you’re out for good, but they’ve said they’ll make a special exception for me, pending the completion of this mission.”

“That sounds like blackmail to me,” her grandfather observed distastefully. “Not to mention the fact that such a ruse violates the spirit of the treaty you’re signing.”

Sakura didn’t try to defend her leaders’ tactics. Two weeks ago, her knowledge of the subject had been pretty abstract, but Anko’s assignment had forced her to put herself in the role of an ANBU assassin. It was chilling to the bone, the way some of the most crucial decisions were made. “That’s politics for you,” she mused.

Her grandfather peered at her curiously. “Indeed, but when did you get so cynical? It’s good to be cautious about what you believe in, but it makes me a little sad that you had to learn that so young.”

“Only since I became a ninja,” Sakura assured him with a small but genuine laugh. “My commanders so far haven’t exactly inspired trust and devotion.”

Kakashi, she thought she could count on in a pinch, but he was pretty unreliable otherwise, and Anko… Sakura felt a kinship with the hyperactive psychopath that was hard to define and impossible to ignore, but she wouldn’t trust her current commander with a book of matches.

Giving her a look that spoke volumes, her grandfather sighed and shook his head. “At least you don’t give up. So what happens to you if I refuse to cooperate?”

“That’s a good question,” Sakura muttered. From the start, it was almost a given that she wouldn’t be the representative, so her role (as far as she knew) was solely as a facilitator. At this point she was probably supposed to make some sort of play for familial sympathy. *Yeah right, like that’d work!*

“They’ll probably still reinstate me, but they won’t be happy with me,” the ‘ex’-kunoichi admitted truthfully. “I’ve been told that I have to go to the Wind Country either way, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do there since I’m not the ‘Lady Haruno’ they’re expecting.”

“You sound like you’re looking forward to it,” the Lord Haruno noted sarcastically.

“Like _hell_ I am,” Sakura growled. “I feel like I’m walking blindfolded into a mine field.”

“But aren’t the Hidden Sand suing for peace?”

“And they were killing my friends a few weeks ago!” *And I couldn’t do anything to stop them.* Her wounds had long-since faded, but every time she thought about it, Sakura cursed herself for how badly she’d botched her ‘rescue’ mission. “What about you? Do you think we can trust them not to stab us in the back again?”

“Trust them? Of course not,” the old man denied with a snort of disdain. “You can’t build trust on a pile of fresh bodies, but peace treaties aren’t about trust, they’re about necessity. You saw those men by the road?” He waved vaguely toward the southern wall of his windowless office.

“We caught them fleeing after the battle. They’d been defeated, but they were still very much alive when we found them.” Placing both hands on the table again, the Lord Haruno gave Sakura a hard look. “The Sand _need_ peace right now, and so do the Leaf; if one side or the other was strong enough to win, there wouldn’t have been any survivors left for my men to fight.”

*Ouch! I guess nobody needs to tell _him_ the score.* Her grandfather was a unique case, though; there was still a chance that Konoha could hide their weakness from their clients, if not their enemies. *As long as we don’t have to go begging to the Daimyo’s court for an envoy.*

Seeing that she’d done as much as she could, Sakura gave her grandfather a shrug of surrender. “That’s how it looks. So are you going to let us have peace, or do we have to ask someone else?”

“Just one question before I answer that: What’s in it for me?”

§

“Sakura-chan!” Looking up in surprise when Sakura entered the room, the Hyuuga heiress set down the steaming cup she was holding. “H-how did it go?” she queried anxiously.

Shutting the door, Sakura noted in approval that her grandfather’s men seemed to understand the concept of hospitality. A teapot and a tray of rice crackers sat in the middle of the low table, and there were a few red cushions piled in the corner. The entire room looked well-maintained and clean; you’d never guess that it was a holding cell for ‘dangerous guests.’

“It went okay, I guess,” Sakura replied wearily, talking a seat across from Hinata. “He hasn’t agreed to anything, but at least he didn’t turn us down flat.”

A worried frown creased Hinata’s brow, and Sakura gave her friend a half-hearted grin. “If you’re a ninja, getting Grandpa to do _anything_ for you is like trying to make Manda-sama dance,” she joked.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the pale girl noted unhappily.

“Eh, it can be done,” Sakura assured her with a chuckle. “But he usually eats you afterward.”

Hinata grimaced. “That sounds even worse.”

Laughing out loud, Sakura reached across the table to snag a seaweed-wrapped cracker. “Yeah, I guess so,” she agreed, biting down and savoring the salty flavor on her tongue. “At least it’s over. All we can do now is wait for Kurenai-sensei to show up and hope for the best.”

Nodding, Hinata made a visible effort to relax. Picking up her tea, she took a dainty sip, only the tips of her fingers peeking out from the long sleeves of her jacket to grip the textured clay mug.

“Why do you always wear such baggy clothes?” Sakura wondered aloud.

“Eh?” Blinking in confusion, Hinata lowered the cup from her lips.

“That jacket is at least two sizes too big, and so is your other one,” the green-eyed kunoichi critiqued. Scanning her companion’s attire, Sakura struggled to make out the lines of Hinata’s figure. “You should try some brighter colors and wear tops that show off your arms. I’ll bet you’d look great in a sleeveless dress.”

Blushing, Hinata dropped her gaze to her hands, as if she’d discovered something interesting floating in her tea. “R-really?” she mumbled bashfully. “I- I don’t know. I’m not- I don’t think I’d look good in something like that.”

*I’ll bet there’s at least one boy who would disagree with you,* Sakura mused. Kiba was so bad at hiding his enormous crush on Hinata, you’d have to be blind to miss it. *Blind, deaf, and in a fucking _coma_; he practically wags his tail and begs whenever you walk by!*

Sakura knew what the problem was. She was all too familiar with the symptoms of low self-esteem. *But you have friends, dammit! Don’t you understand what that means? People _like_ you! Stop being so down on yourself!* Standing suddenly, the pink-haired girl stormed around the table and grabbed Hinata’s sleeve. “These are soaked!”

“Huh? Ah- y-yes, I suppose; I didn’t expect it to rain so hard-”

Pulling Hinata to her feet, Sakura dragged the confused kunoichi stumbling toward the door. “C’mon, we still have a couple hours before Kurenai-sensei gets here. There’s a bath in the guest wing you can use to warm up a bit, and then you can change into some dry clothes. I have some stuff that might fit you.”

“Wha- S-Sakura-chan?!”

A knock on the door alerted the guard on the other side, and without ceremony they were released back into the courtyard of the small, fortified station that defended the ferry crossing to the castle.

“We’re going to the castle,” Sakura stated in a tone that brooked no argument. When the young soldier hesitated, Sakura grabbed Hinata’s hand and pulled the smaller girl close. “She’s my bodyguard; I’ll personally answer to the Lord if she tries anything. We’re only going to the outer bailey, anyway.”

Glancing behind him to a samurai about Kakashi’s age with a strong, square jaw and very imposing sideburns, the guard received a nod of approval. “Right this way, Sakura-dono,” he instructed, leading them to the gate at the far end of the yard.

Constructed on a small, stony island at the juncture of two fast-moving rivers, Ryuuzai castle was defended by a formidable natural moat and steep stone walls that towered dizzyingly over the water. There had apparently been a bridge once, but it had been dismantled long ago

Nowadays, the only way most people could get to the castle was via rope ferry. The tunnel from her grandfather’s story had doubtless been sealed off long ago, or else he wouldn’t have told her about it.

Studying the choppy surface of the river, swelled to overflowing and whipped to white peaks by the wind, Sakura decided to wait for the ferry rather than try to run across again. Walking on moving water was a lot harder than standing on a puddle, and Hinata didn’t look much recovered from their race through the monsoon.

Unable to escape from Sakura’s ‘Body by Gai’-enhanced grip, Hinata put her other hand on Sakura’s and tried to coax the pink-haired girl away from the dock. “S-Sakura-chan, I’m fine, really!”

“No you’re not!” Sakura snapped testily. Upon reflection, she realized that Hinata was probably referring to the condition of her clothes. “Your hair’s all wet,” she noted after a moment.

“That’s because you ran out into the rain before I could put on my hood!” the white-eyed girl protested, reaching back to pull up her hood even though the damage was already done.

“Oh.” Blinking at Hinata’ outburst, Sakura felt her irritation dwindle slightly. *I guess she’s not a total doormat.* Midway through slicking a sodden pink forelock from her eyes, Sakura realized that she’d also forgotten to put on her ‘hood.’

“Well, my hair’s all wet now too, and while _you_ may be fine with shivering your ass off and catching pneumonia, _I_ feel like taking a bath, so you might as well come along to keep me company,” she reasoned.

“What? But-”

“No ‘but’s! You’re an honored guest of the Princess of Ryuuzai and the Haruno Clan will be _deeply_ offended if you continue to decline our generous hospitality!”

“Eeeh?”

§

Sandwiched between the castle walls and the inner bailey, which was like a small fortress all by itself, the outer bailey was reserved for entertaining guests, garrisoning troops and conducting public functions such as trials and executions.

It was also the only section of the castle that ninja were officially permitted to enter. Their gear was confiscated before they were cleared through security, but that was to be expected. Not even samurai were allowed to wear their swords in the castle unless they served the Lord of Ryuuzen or the Daimyo himself.

From the gates, the guest quarters were roughly east across the courtyard, situated in the narrow wing of the bailey that followed the southern edge of the island. This allowed guests easier access to the keep, as the entrance to the second tier of fortifications faced east, 120 degrees from the main castle gates.

Catching Hinata staring up at the ramparts, even now patrolled by dozens of archers, Sakura grinned roguishly. “It’s kind of hard to believe that twenty men could defend all this,” she observed. “Sometimes I think Grandpa is full of crap- and he accuses _us_ of getting it wrong.”

Hinata nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Maybe, but the walls are steep, and they have walkways on top of them, the same as Konoha.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Is that a cannon?” She pointed at a gray-black tube poking out of one of the towers in the distance.

Squinting, Sakura tried to make out the object of Hinata’s scrutiny through the rain. “I dunno, it might be.” Her grandfather was always looking for loopholes in the weapons treaties between the Fire Country and the Hidden Leaf. “Can you use the Byakugan to check?” she suggested.

Stopping in her tracks, Hinata had the look of a spooked deer. “Um… but.. w-wouldn’t it be bad if someone saw me?” she asked nervously.

“Hmm…” The white-eyed girl had a point; some of the men on the walls probably _were_ watching them. “Yeah, we’d better just pretend we didn’t see anything.” She could ask her grandfather about it later, when Hinata wasn’t around to get in trouble.

Nodding to herself, Sakura walked onward, turning to look over her shoulder when the other girl was slow to follow. “C’mon, it’s not much further,” she urged, tilting her head toward the red-roofed guest houses at the end of the lane.

Navigating the buildings by memory, Sakura quickly found the quarters she usually used when she visited. Looking around the antechamber of the guest house, the pink-haired girl didn’t find any servants in evidence, but there were a pair of towels and folded yukata sitting just inside the genkan.

“Someone must have called ahead,” she noted, not at all surprised that their conversation had been overheard. “The bath’s probably ready too.”

“Ah…” Staring blankly at the floor for a moment, Hinata crouched down and deliberately began removing her boots.

*Geez, how shy can you get?* Sakura wondered, watching Hinata’s reluctant motions. In the end, it hadn’t been too hard to goad Hinata into accepting her invitation, but it was easy to tell that the brunette was dragging her feet.

*She must’ve at least used a public bath before, though.* Hanging her coat on the drying rack conveniently placed by the door, Sakura pulled off her boots and grabbed a towel. They weren’t going to be staying for long, so she didn’t bother to take a robe.

Given the space constraints of an island fortress, the guest house wasn’t very large, but the walk from the foyer to the bathroom was still long enough for Sakura to sense the tension building as they approached their destination. Hinata was completely silent, and her eyes never left the floor she trudged along beside Sakura, clutching her towel protectively to her chest.

A curtain of warm air descended upon them as they entered the changing area, making both girls blink. Thinking that it might make her friend more comfortable if she led by example, Sakura snagged a handy clothes basket with her toe, dropped her bag on the floor and began to undress.

Her dress and undershirt went into the basket in short order, followed by her black exercise shorts. It wasn’t until she reached back to unhook her bra that Hinata finally started to follow suit. Sakura released a tiny sigh of relief as Hinata unzipped her jacket, revealing a mesh undershirt much like Sakura’s own.

*She must not ever take that coat off,* the pink-haired girl decided. Underneath the shirt, Sakura could see that Hinata also wore a plain black sports bra, though _that_ comparison made Sakura seethe with envy.

Soon both kunoichi stood almost as naked as the day they were born; Sakura hadn’t removed bandages on her shoulder and Hinata still wore her forehead protector. “Aren’t you going to take that off, Hinata-chan?” Sakura prodded impatiently.

“Um… y-yes.” Seeming more self-conscious now than when she’d taken off her adorable, pinwheel-patterned panties, Hinata took a couple of deep breaths before reaching back to untie the knot behind her head. Once the dark cloth fell away, Sakura could see that there was a thick strip of white gauze underneath.

Feeling a twinge of worry, Sakura was about to comment, but the intense look on Hinata’s face made her hold her tongue while Hinata carefully unwrapped the bandage. When the last loop of gauze peeled free from Hinata’s skin, stuck to her brow by a jagged line of reddish-brown stains, it took Sakura’s brain several seconds to process what she was seeing.

Unfortunately, Sakura’s mouth was much faster on the uptake. “Holy shit, is that real?” the pink-haired girl blurted, gaping at the stylized manji branded on Hinata’s forehead.

Jolting as if she’d been bitten, Hinata stared wide-eyed at the other girl. “S-Sakura-chan?”

“Ah- oh fuck! Waah!” Slapping a hand over her mouth, Sakura exchanged a look of shock with the white-eyed kunoichi.

*Dammit! I can’t believe I fucking said that!* Taking her hand away, Sakura gestured frantically for Hinata to stay calm. “I’m sorry! You just surprised me is all! Shit- I mean- I didn’t mean-” At a loss for words, Sakura shut her mouth before she could dig herself any deeper.

Still looking rather pole-axed, Hinata twitched again and stared at Sakura for a long moment. “Holy shit,” she finally mouthed in an almost reverent whisper.

Sakura could feel the steam coming out of her ears as a terminal blush spread from her hairline right down to her shoulders. “Hinata!” she gasped.

“Fuck!” Hinata swore giddily, eliciting a wince from the pink-haired girl.

“Hinata-chaaan!” Sakura whined, blinking away tears of panic as she reached up to grab the other girl’s shoulders. “Quit it! Yuuhi’ll fucking _kill_ me if she finds out I taught you that!”

Giggling inanely, Hinata shook her head. “I’m- I’m sorry, Sakura-chan! I just-” Taking a calming breath, the brunette brought a hand up to wipe her watering eyes and gave Sakura a smile of relief. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to tease you, but that was funny!”

“I don’t care if you tease me, just promise you won’t talk like that anymore!” Sakura pleaded.

“But it feels so… so…” The Hyuuga trailed off with a playful grin. “Wow… shit!”

“Hiiinaaataaaa!”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Hinata assured the red-faced girl, finally regaining a bit of composure. “Are you alright, Sakura-chan?” she asked, her smile dimming to less worrying proportions.

“I’m fine,” Sakura lied. Her heart was still doing back-flips, even though it didn’t look like Hinata thought she was some sort of anti-Sakura from another dimension- or Kiba in disguise! *Fucking moron… It’s a good thing Hinata-chan’s got a sense of humor, though,* Sakura mused.

Realizing that she was still holding Hinata’s shoulders, Sakura hastily dropped her hands to her sides. “Sorry about that,” she apologized, averting her gaze, but her eyes caught on the blood-stained bandage that Hinata still held.

When she looked up again, Sakura couldn’t help but glance at the curse seal in the middle of Hinata’s forehead. “What about you Hinata-chan? Are you alright?” she ventured hesitantly.

Catching Sakura’s furtive look, Hinata grimaced. With the hand she’d used to wipe her eyes, the pale girl reached up to brush the mark with her fingertips. Looking ill for a moment, Hinata swallowed queasily. “I- I think I’ll be okay,” she decided, giving Sakura a fair approximation of a smile.

Though she wanted to return the smile, a small frown forced its way onto Sakura’s lips. “Do you want to talk about it?” she prodded gently, feeling like she was wading waist-deep in murky waters.

Shuffling her feet, Hinata clutched both hands in front of her to fidget nervously. “If- if you want to talk about what’s bothering you, Sakura-chan,” she offered, her voice rising in concern.

*Am I that transparent?* Sakura wondered. “Are you sure you wanna know? My life’s been pretty fucked up, lately,” she warned, giving her friend a roguish smirk.

Giggling again at Sakura’s ’slip,’ Hinata nodded. “I want to- to-” she stuttered, squeezing her eyes shut and quickly turning away as her body was wracked by a sneeze. “Ah, excuse me,” she apologized with a sniffle.

“It’s alright, but let’s stop standing here and get in the bath before you catch a cold,” Sakura prodded, unconsciously slipping into a mothering tone.

“Just a second,” Hinata begged, crouching down to search through the small bag the guards had let her keep. Producing a roll of gauze, Hinata peered critically at the bandage on Sakura’s arm. “You should probably change those dressings as well, Sakura-chan.”

“Ah… no. That is-” Sakura felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with being soaking wet. The ANBU tatoo was probably the least of the things she’d need to explain, but Hinata seemed to have a very active imagination.

Still, fair was fair; the bloody brand on Hinata’s forehead was already driving Sakura mad with worry. Steeling herself, Sakura reached for the simple knot that held the bandage in place, pulling it off with a flourish.

A tiny smile of satisfaction crept onto Sakura’s face as she heard Hinata gasp. The tattoo hadn’t faded one iota; it was still as sharp and vivid as the day she’d gotten it. That probably shouldn’t have surprised her, as they’d been planning on working with Temari for at least a week, but it made Sakura a little uneasy.

Burying the butterflies in her stomach, Sakura gave Hinata a mysterious look. “Shhh,” she whispered, holding a finger to her lips. Though she said not a word, the expression on Hinata’s face as Sakura ushered her into the bathing area was absolutely precious.

Inside, the huge, wood-walled bath at the far end of the room was already filled and uncovered. Tall windows on two sides opened out to a small viewing garden behind the guest house, while tasteful wood paneling lined the other walls. Only the row of modern taps with extendable shower heads marred the traditional simplicity of the room.

Grabbing a pair of wash buckets and stools from the stack in the corner, Sakura and Hinata set to work cleaning up. Liquid body soap and shampoo were provided, though the pink-haired girl took a moment to grimace in distaste at the generic brands. *Still cheap, Grandpa.*

Wetting her washcloth, Sakura turned to her companion. “Want me to scrub your back, Hinata-chan?”

Hinata, who was in the process of gingerly sponging away the dried blood on her forehead, turned to peer at the pink-haired girl. “Please,” she replied politely. “Thank you,” she added, when Sakura scooted closer.

“Don’t worry about it!” Sakura chirped, squeezing a bit of soap into the washcloth and scrunching it between her hands to work up a lather. Kneeling behind Hinata, Sakura took a moment to marvel at the brunette’s creamy white, perfectly unblemished skin.

Though she didn’t care for the creepy eyes, the Hyuuga certainly seemed to have more than their fair share of ‘genetic advantages.’ Unable to stop herself, Sakura allowed her gaze to drift lower, zeroing in on the hint of breast that she could see under Hinata’s arm as the shorter girl leaned forward.

*Dammit, they’re fucking huge!* It was hard to believe that she was looking at a girl only three months older than herself. From the graceful curve of her neck to the slight flare of her hips, Hinata’s body was 100% more womanly than Sakura’s own stick-like figure.

Seized by the urge to tease her timid but well-endowed friend, Sakura let a devilish leer split her face. Her hands curling into cruel, grasping claws, the young mischievous pink leaf snake coiled silently, preparing to strike.

Just as Sakura was about to pounce on her unsuspecting prey, Hinata gave a reflexive jerk. “Sakura-chan?” the brunette called nervously, starting to turn around.

Startled out of her trance, Sakura nearly fell over backwards as she hastily retracted her hands. “Ah! Uh- I- I just thought for a second that I’d grabbed the wrong boo- bottle!”

Thankful that she hadn’t dropped her washcloth, Sakura leaned forward and began industriously scrubbing Hinata’s shoulders. *Gah! What the hell was I thinking?* Fondling Hinata’s breasts was almost certainly _not_ the way to put the girl at ease.

Much to Sakura’s chagrin, the urge to give Hinata’s chest a playful squeeze didn’t subside even after she returned to her senses. Her hands twitched longingly as she worked her way down Hinata’s back, inching closer and closer to that succulent forbidden fruit, hanging so tantalizingly within reach.

*Maybe if I asked first? ‘Hinata-chan? I know this is gonna sound weird, but whatever Kiba’s told you, I’m _not_ a lesbian… so can I touch your boobs?’ Yeah, that doesn’t sound perverted at all.*

It probably wouldn’t be satisfying if Hinata just _let_ her do it, anyway. She didn’t want to cop a feel so much as she wanted to hear the shy girl squeal.

*I’m horrible,* Sakura scolded herself, stubbornly yanking her hands away from Hinata’s sides. *Hinata-chan doesn’t deserve to be treated like that!* Finishing her work with stoic efficiency, Sakura released the breath she was holding and backed away.

“All done!” she declared, congratulating herself on a small victory over her inner psycho. Despite constant temptation, she hadn’t so much as tickled her maddeningly cute ‘bodyguard.’

Mumbling a second bashful “Thank you,” Hinata picked up her wash bucket and dumped it over her head.

Sakura didn’t a Hyuuga’s eyes to see the tension in Hinata’s shoulders and back as the curtain of suds parted. *So she did notice.* Swallowing a melancholy sigh, Sakura wordlessly returned to her own stool, not wanting to make her friend any more uncomfortable.

*I wish she’d just say something!* Sadly, Hinata was too nice to make a fuss, even after she’d almost been ravaged by a deranged sexual predator. Hearing the other girl stand, Sakura was surprised to find Hinata moving toward her, washcloth in hand.

“W-would you like me to wash your back now?” the pale girl offered. The hopeful look on her face wilted slightly under Sakura’s stare of confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, Hinata-chan,” Sakura finally managed to protest, but the gratitude in her voice must have reached Hinata, for the brunette didn’t retreat.

“It’s no trouble,” Hinata replied, brightening once more. When Sakura raised no further objections, Hinata came closer and knelt behind her. “Could you hand me the-”

“Got it!” Hardly able to believe her luck, Sakura bent over to grab the soap by her feet. *Maybe she didn’t notice after all.*

As she was twisting around to hand the bottle back, Hinata leaned forward to take it from her, and Sakura suddenly felt something warm and wet pressing up against her arm. Their faces only inches apart, both girls reddened simultaneously, but for a moment neither Sakura nor Hinata moved to disengage.

*Wow, they’re soft too,* Sakura mused in wonderment.

“Ah!” Realizing what she was doing, the pink-haired girl hastily released her grip on the soap and turned away. Behind her, Hinata also let out a mousey little squeak as she fumbled to catch the slippery plastic bottle.

“Sorry,” Sakura mumbled sheepishly, once it sounded like Hinata had things under control. She wasn’t quite sure what she was apologizing for, but it felt like the safest thing to do.

“N-no, that was my fault,” Hinata assured her in a meek, quavering voice that burned the image of Hinata’s deliciously flustered face into the front of Sakura’s mind.

*Kyaaa- so cute!* Valiantly fighting the impulse to whip around and tackle her adorable playmate, Sakura gripped her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the moment to pass. *No! Bad! No abusing Hinata!*

With her attention focused inward, Sakura nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the first brush of Hinata’s hands on her back. The pink-haired kunoichi had to draw on every shred of self control she possessed to keep from vibrating out of her seat while Hinata worked, but she persevered, praying for a quick end.

Much to Sakura’s dismay, the seconds soon stretched into minutes as the Juuken user deftly kneaded Sakura’s knotted muscles, trying to massage away the tension that Sakura’s desperate internal struggle was creating. For a moment the pleasurable torment ceased, but soon the nimble fingers neared again, this time pausing to hover just out of reach.

At first, Sakura though Hinata was examining her tattoo, but then Hinata’s fingertips hesitantly descended, tracing a curving path away from Sakura’s shoulder, down her back and around her right hip. The shy girl said nothing, but Sakura could feel the electric prickle of Hinata’s curious gaze on her skin.

“I had some close calls during the invasion,” Sakura supplied, thankful for the distraction. “One of the ninja I fought used razor wire.” A scattering of fine white lines now crisscrossed Sakura’s body, attesting to how close that fight had truly been.

There were medical jutsu to remove scars, but it was hard to get approval for such ‘vanity operations’ during times of war. *I should have just asked Monkey-man,* Sakura realized, grimacing at her own stupidity. “Ugly, aren’t they?” she observed.

“No!” Hinata cried with far more force than Sakura was expecting. “No, I wouldn’t- I wasn’t thinking that! I can barely see them! I only noticed because you’re- you’re blushing…”

Trailing off awkwardly, Hinata resumed scrubbing, though she seemed distracted. “I wish I could have helped,” she added with a regretful sigh. “I collapsed during Naruto-kun’s fight. I couldn’t do anything.”

“I couldn’t do much either,” Sakura commiserated, glancing over her shoulder to give Hinata a weak smile.

Staring at her owlishly, Hinata seemed surprised by this admission. “But Shino-kun said you helped rescue Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun.”

“Did he?” Sakura quirked an eyebrow. *I wonder how much he told her.* She’d sworn Shino to secrecy about her techniques, and any information regarding the capture of enemy ninja was considered classified, which didn’t leave a whole lot left to tell.

“It was the other way around,” Sakura corrected ruefully, unable to mask the bitterness that welled up in her throat. “I tried to help, but in the end Naruto had to rescue me again.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t do anything!” Hinata argued, a hitch of envy creeping into her voice. “At least you were there. Shino-kun wouldn’t say what happened, but he thinks you’re really strong. He warned Kiba-kun not to fight you because he’d definitely lose.”

“Kiba wants to fight me?” Sakura blinked in confusion. *Why the hell do all of the loud idiots want to fight me all of a sudden?*

“He was really mad at you a couple weeks ago,” Hinata confirmed with a nod. “Shino-kun said you used a genjutsu on him that made him do something really embarrassing.”

*Ooooh, _that_.* Sakura tried not to think about the ramen incident; it wasn’t a pleasant memory for her either.

*Dammit, I should’ve just ripped his fucking tongue out!* Thanks to Kiba’s big mouth (and a small miscalculation on her part), not only did the everyone think she was gay, but now Sasuke-kun probably thought she was some sort of sadistic monster.

“Hinata-chan, what do you think of me?” Sakura asked suddenly, turning around to give the white-eyed girl an earnest, pleading look. “I know you’ve heard some horrible things about me, but you act like it doesn’t bother you. Are you scared of me? Do I make you uncomfortable? Tell me the truth!”

Rocking back on her heels at the need that burned in Sakura’s lambent green eyes, Hinata pulled her hands to her chest defensively. “I- no, I’m not-” she wavered, her gaze drifting to the floor, but then her brow furrowed and a tiny frown appeared on her lips.

Locking eyes with Sakura once more, Hinata sat up a little straighter, as if to prepare herself. “I-” Chewing her lip, the pale girl dropped her restless hands to her lap. “I- I like you a lot, Sakura chan!” Hinata’s cheeks flared brighter as she realized how that sounded, and her composure fizzled with an almost audible ‘pop!’

“But not like- I mean, I really admire you!” she amended dizzily. “You’re confident and smart and strong- but when I talk to you, you don’t…” Shrinking a little, Hinata looked away again. “You don’t seem so different from me. When I’m with you, I feel like maybe I could be that way too.”

*Hinata-chan.* Not letting herself think twice, Sakura lunged forward to capture the other girl in a fierce embrace. “S-stupid,” she whispered hoarsely, burying her face in the crook of Hinata’s neck. “Why the hell would’ja wanna be like me?”

Though she’d felt Hinata stiffen at her touch, the brunette’s hands were warm and accepting as they wrapped around Sakura’s back, pulling her close. “I told you,” Hinata murmured, “you’re amazing.”

“Only if ya mean amazingly fucked up,” the green-eyed kunoichi growled.

Pulling away slightly, Hinata gave Sakura a frown that was probably meant to be scolding, but only managed to make her look like a sad-eyed puppy. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” she pouted.

Despite the sincerity of Hinata’s rebuke, Sakura had to laugh. “You’re one to talk,” she quipped. Not wanting to let go of Hinata to sit back down, Sakura grinned wickedly as she spread her legs to straddle Hinata’s lap instead.

“Besides,” she purred, snuggling closer to bask in the incandescent glow that lit Hinata’s face like a 250 watt bulb, “maybe I’m a bad girl who deserves to be punished.”

“S-s-saa-Sakura-chan?!” Squirming helplessly, Hinata stared wild-eyed at the affectionate pink python that had just slithered around her waist. “W-wait! I-”

“I love you too, Hinata-chan,” Sakura whispered playfully, giving the brunette a friendly peck on the cheek, “but not like- huh?”

A stab of worry shook Sakura out of her licentious stupor as Hinata’s entire body seized up, then suddenly went limp, as though her adorable new toy had blown a fuse. “Hinata-chan?” Panic welled in the pink-haired girl’s stomach as she shook her unresponsive companion. “H-hey, are you okay? Hinata-chan!”

§

 -     S     U     I     R     E     N     -

To be continued…