Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sakura jerks awake with a gasp.

She’s drenched in cold sweat and shivering, the memory of a haze of suffocating orange chakra and a searing pain in her lower back and left breast making her swallow back bile.

Then, she freezes.

Her chakra is gone.

Well, not gone, the not-yet-panicking part of her mind corrects – while the rest is firmly committed to hyperventilating – but tiny. Dormant. Untouched.

She opens her eyes and raises her arm and –

Small.

No callouses, no bloodied, ripped off nails, no torn-up cuticles or silvery scars. Just a small hand, with pale, unblemished skin, and short, untrained, clumsy fingers.

Sakura’s breath catches in her throat. The pastel yellow walls of her bedroom begin to spin.

She’d been eighteen, fresh out of the Fourth Shinobi War. She’d been on the frontlines for over a year, had surpassed Tsunade, had mastered both of the blonde’s legendary jutsus, had stood with Naruto and Sasuke as their equal while they faced a goddess.

And yes, they’d won the war, but they’d lost so many. Yet, after Kaguya had been dealt with, everyone just… went back to ‘normal’. Hardly any time was spent grieving, mourning those they’d lost. But Sakura couldn’t just let go. She’d lost too many faces she’d known and held dear, lost Ino, Sai, Genma, Shikaku, Kiba, Yamato, Neji, Inoichi, Tenten, Shizune – and nobody seemed to care. Kakashi, grief-leaden and traumatised beyond belief had been tasked with Hokageship, a job Sakura knew he’d fulfil to the best of his ability, but one that nobody who’d really loved him should’ve asked of him. Tsunade had retired, dropped her age-concealing illusion and focused on rebuilding the hospital and rehoming civilians, and while Sakura didn’t begrudge either of them their decisions, it meant nobody saw her composure slowly shattering. So when Naruto and Sasuke decided to fight, because the fact that they’d just fought in a war didn’t seem to matter to their egos, Sakura had been tired. So she’d followed. And when they’d pulled out their respective end-all moves – ones she’d known would total the landscape around them and, if they were lucky, severely injure both of them – she saw an out. She saw an end to the play-pretend they’d all been living in.

(So she stepped between them.)

She shakes off the memory, but clings to the facts: eighteen, a young woman, a shinobi, a medic, a student, a legend, and now–!

A child.

She rolls out of bed, her breathing coming in ragged gasps, falls on the floor and staggers to the window, and tries to wrench it open. It moves slowly, and it hurts as her palms dig into the sharp wooden frame, splinters coming off and lodging themselves into her delicate skin, but eventually – when she’s panting from exertion and her arms are shaking – it gives.

In her panic, her practiced leap out of the window turns into a stumble, and she trips over the frame, her legs too short to reach over the window sill and she falls through and has two terrifying seconds where she’s freefalling, but gravity does its work and the ground comes up all too soon. Sakura hits the grass in a graceless tangle of limbs, feels the impact of jar her fragile bones and wonders how barely five metres can feel like tumbling from the Valley of the End.

She feels tears spring to her eyes when she pulls herself up and her left arm is burning, the normally straight forearm forming an obtuse angle.

Broken, the sober part of her mind catalogues, even as the rest of her is still busy having a panic attack, compound fracture.

She stumbles through her garden and crawls out through the gap in the hedge, and then she’s running, keeping to the shadows and gasping in desperate breaths through her mouth even as her throat feels clogged with the promise of tears and black spots are dancing across her vision.

Eventually, she reaches the communal park, deserted and decidedly haunted-looking so late in the night, and makes a bee-line for the treehouse, dazedly climbing up the ladder until she’s surrounded by four wooden walls and comforted by the fake feeling of security the cover provides.

Then, she breaks down.

She cries, ugly and loud and desperate because she’s somehow back in time. She’s small, probably pre-Academy judging by the fact that her chakra hadn’t even responded when she called for it, much less rose up automatically to cushion her fall when she jumped out of the window.

She cries and cries and cries, and eventually, she runs out of tears.

All she feels is numb and tired, and the ache of her broken arm is there, but the mess in her head manages to reduce it to background noise.

She’s maybe… four? Five? Probably pre-Academy, and definitely pre-Ino, since her red ribbon was nowhere in sight. She looks at her body and feels a pinprick of fear crest at the bottom of her skull and slide down her spine in a shiver; she’s so small. (vulnerable, useless, defenceless, civilian-!)

Eventually her panic abates, and the throb of her arm becomes louder. Sakura takes a deep breath and rises to her feet, shivering once again, this time from the cold. She absently notices that she’s barefoot, and her sheep-patterned pyjamas are most definitely not adequate protection from Konoha’s late autumn nights.

She looks down at her arm and sighs. Hospital it is, she decides grimly. She makes her way to the ladder, then pauses and eyes the slide. How long has it been…? She wonders absently, and when her brain catches up, she’s already moving, sitting down and pushing off. The whoosh of air as she slides down eases the pain in her heart and she feels the beginnings of a smile pull at her mouth, and when she stands up, she feels slightly lighter.

The trek to the hospital is uneventful; Sakura keeps to the shadows and skirts past the mouths of dark alleys and drunk singing, and eventually, she finds herself in the reception of the A&E department, and the quiet reminds her of the few graveyard shifts she’d pulled back –

Back then.

She swallows.

There’s only two other people in the waiting room, a dozing shinobi attached to an IV drip, and an elderly civilian holding an icepack to his head. Sakura walks up to the receptionist’s desk and has to stand a bit away so she can actually see and be seen once the woman looks up.

“Excuse me, miss?” she says and immediately hates how high and quiet her voice is, but it serves its purpose; the woman startles and looks up, then immediately down. Her eyes widen.

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims, and Sakura winces at the volume. “I’m so sorry sweet-pea, were you waiting long? Where’s your mama? What happened?” she bombards Sakura with questions, and inwardly, Sakura’s medic-self berates the woman for her unprofessionalism.

“N-no, ma’am.” She denies. “I fell out of bed and hurt my arm.” The white lie slips out with nary a thought, and she shows off her broken arm for good measure and then adds, “And I didn’t want to wake my mom. I came here myself.”

She sees the receptionist’s eyes widen at that, and she stands up and hops over the desk, crouching beside Sakura’s small form. “Oh, sugar, let me take you to the X-Ray department, okay? The doctors are going to quickly scan your arm and set it, and then you’ll have to wear a cast for a few weeks while your arm heals, but we could make it colourful! How about pink to match that pretty hair of yours, hm?” the nurse rambles, and Sakura knows she should be soothed by the explanation because she’s, for all intents and purposes, a child, but all it does is raise her hackles because she always hated being talked down to, damn it. She could recite the procedure for dealing with broken bones in her sleep!

But she bites back the anger and the bitterness and lets the receptionist lead her away, smiles and waves goodbye when she leaves and suffers through the x-rays and the wait for the results. The doctors seem alarmed when she says she’s alone, but they’re easily bought by her teary explanation of not wanting to wake her mom.

Brave girl, they tell her, such a considerate daughter, and it stings and burns, rancid in her throat but all she does is smile and duck her head. And when she’s led away to have her arm set and put in a cast, she doesn’t register that she’ll be put under anaesthetic until they’re wheeling over the tray with the mask.

She starts to struggle, because the last thing she wants is to be out and in her head for an undisclosed amount of time, but the doctors soothe her and gently try to pin her flailing limbs, and someone expertly secures the elastic around her head and pulls the mask over her mouth and nose.

“Count to ten.” They tell her.

I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want-!

She passes out.

When she wakes, her arm is immobile and in a garishly pink cast, and she’s lying in a bed far softer than she remembers from her hospital. The clock on the wall reads 6am and Sakura desperately tries to remember what time her parents left for work. It would be difficult to explain how she ended up in the hospital if the front door was still locked, and she didn’t exactly want her first interaction with her parents – alivealivealive! – to be full of lies.

She slips out of bed and pads down the corridor of the paediatric ward, and then down to main reception. It’s busier now, more nurses bustling around and more people in the waiting room, but the receptionist is still the same.

“Good morning.” She greets quietly and waves when the woman glances at her. “Thank you for your help, nurse-san. Can I go home now? I don’t want my parents to worry.”

“Sakura-chan!” the woman greets, and Sakura absently wonders how long she spent looking for her medical records with only her appearance and approximate age to go on. “Are you sure? We could send someone to notify your parents of where you are!”

“No, thank you.” Sakura demurs, toeing the line between insistent and rude and fighting with her rising irritation. “I feel better and I’d like to see my parents before they go to work.”

The receptionist caves at last, even though Sakura sees she’s still reluctant, and at last she’s free to go, still in her pyjamas and now bearing a ridiculous cast in a shade of pink so obnoxious it makes her hair look tame in comparison.

She makes her way home, crawling in through the same gap in the hedge she left by, and stands under her window, staring at the wall with a frown.

The front door is locked, and while breaking in through the window was child’s play to adult-Sakura, Sakura as she is now lacks both the tools and the dexterity to make it work.

She frowns at her wall, aware what she needs to do but somewhat hesitant, then she sighs and concentrates.

Her chakra is there, sure as anything, and while the pool is depressingly shallow, her control seems to have translated and as she puts her foot against the wall, she knows she’s got the exact amount of chakra she needs in it. It’s jarring, seeing her foot against the wall, because it’s so small, and in her original timeline, she didn’t even attempt the exercise until she was twelve, in Wave and living each day in fear of Zabuza, her first bogeyman. Still, she makes her way up the wall, slowly, because for all that she’s confident in her control, arrogance and rushing ahead had always been her teammates’ trademarks, not hers.

She crawls in through the still open window, her small stature for once helping her instead of inhibiting as she manoeuvres and squeezes through despite her broken arm. She grabs a random book from her shelf and makes her way downstairs, creeping down the stairs and curling up on the sofa, content to wait till her parents get up to start the day and spin her little sob story then.

She opens her book and pretends to read, while inwardly, she plans.

The ache of losing half of her precious people is still too fresh in her mind. She doesn’t think she can bear seeing everyone again, not as they were in the Academy, innocent and boisterous and with faces lined with baby-fat.

But she needs to make a start on her shinobi career. Perhaps not officially, because ‘child genius’ isn’t a title she particularly wants, but enough to be prepared for what will come after. Better prepared, at least, than she was originally. Prepared for Orochimaru and Pein and Danzo and-

She freezes, mental cogs grounding to a halt at the thought.

Danzo.

Who did she know who was after talented, nameless children, who would help her get strong – even if it was only for his gain – and who was instrumental to the shitstorm that went on in her teens? And if she manages to get close, to find evidence, she could bring damning evidence to the Sandaime, evidence that could, hopefully, get rid of Danzo all that much sooner.

And save Sai.

Her breath catches in her throat once more, and she absently notes that she’s clutching her book in a white-knuckled grip. She knows what she must do. And she knows she cannot fail, cannot falter.

A lance of pain shoots through her when she thinks of what she’s about to do to her parents, but she knows her success is infinitely more important than the happiness of two civilians.

It is time, she thinks grimly, mercilessly quashing any guilt that tries to rise up, to get noticed by ROOT.

Chapter Text

Sakura evaluates her plan. 

ROOT is risky, that she knows. Who can tell how she'll come out, if she actually succeeds and things go according to plan. She could be different. Fractured. Bitter. 

But, at the same time, she knows that ROOT is, ironically, one of the only places she'll be safe if she slips up. They'd probably just call it a glitch in the conditioning, or a natural response to being forced to suppress emotions instead of trying to dig deeper, like Shikamaru or his father would, or slipping a mind-walk past her like Ino or Inoichi could. And she knows she can't face her old teammates. Not yet. Not when the memory of dying by their hands is still too fresh in her mind. And pretending to be a complete civilian child, and going through the Academy again... Sakura can think of few things that would be worse for her mental state. 

And, if she succeeds, she could bring about the downfall of not just ROOT, but Danzo himself. Eliminate one of the key players before anyone realises he's even playing. 

Sakura smiles, wry and resigned.

ROOT it is. 

She spends a week at home, getting in touch with her chakra.

Her parents had fawned over her when they saw the cast on her arm, had gently berated her for not waking either of them up when she ‘fell out of bed’, and then largely left her to her own devices while they went to work.

All in all, it was about what Sakura had expected.

Now, as she sits cross-legged on the rug in her room, shoulders loose and eyes closed, she feels the gentle hum of her chakra as she stretches out her coils like plasticine and smiles. Meditation had been something Shizune had suggested, once upon a time, as a non-intensive way of increasing her chakra supply.

Bearing in mind she’s now four and has plans of not only infiltrating, but surviving ROOT, she cannot afford to let her tiny puddle of chakra stay a puddle.

At two in the afternoon, like clockwork, when she knows her elderly next-door neighbour is settling in for her afternoon nap, Sakura, also like clockwork, clambers out of her window and allows herself to stick her feet on the wall and relishes the familiar feeling of being parallel to the ground. She jogs around, from her window, to the balcony door, then right to the top of the house and back again, until she feels the tell-tale wooziness that comes from scraping at the bottom of her reserves. Every day, she manages to last a few dozen seconds longer, and that, more than anything, makes her smile.

It’s been a while since she’d been able to see herself progress so fast. She supposes starting from nothing while actually having an idea of how she should proceed this time has its advantages.

She crawls back into her room and stretches, then treks downstairs to fix herself up a reasonably hefty lunch. Sakura thanks the heavens for being able to start her chakra training as a child this time – she can fully exhaust her reserves every day, and not feel a thing in the morning. The headaches, muscle aches and general grogginess of her teenage years are a thing of the past.

Sakura keeps to that routine for two weeks, until she can run around the outside wall of her house for ten minutes and not feel woozy, and her reserves are, by her approximation, around a third of the reserves of her genin self.

Satisfied, the next day Sakura leaves the house with a swimming costume underneath her dress and a towel, a sandwich, and a plastic bag in her rucksack. She finds a stream, as removed and isolated from both, shinobi and civilians, as she can and drops her pack. Her cast-covered arm is wrapped carefully in the plastic bag, and her dress gets thrown haphazardly next to her bag. Sakura smiles, steels herself, steps on the water –  

– and falls right through.

She sputters, surfaces, and awkwardly clambers back onto the bank.

Okay, that was ambitious. She thinks wryly, and blows wet hair out of her face. She spends the next ten minutes on the very edge of the bank, holding onto a protruding root for stability as she tries to make her feet stand on the water without falling through. Different centre of gravity so different distribution of chakra is necessary. This isn’t about control, this is physics.

Eventually, she gets the distribution right, and feels confident enough to let go of the root and stand properly. She wobbles, but manages to stay upright. It’s when she tries to take a step that it goes wrong, and she suddenly forgets the correct distribution and defaults back to what had been automatic for so long, and not all that long ago. Naturally, she falls.

Not eighteen anymore! She snarls inwardly. That time is gone! Get your act together, damn it!

She manages to get it right eventually and feels a curl of satisfaction in her gut. It had taken far too long for her tastes, but still less than it had the first time around.

She comes back to the stream every day for two weeks, until her reserves grow to half that of genin-Sakura, and the new chakra distribution becomes her automatic response.

In the last two weeks of being plaster-bound, Sakura works on her conditioning.

She starts with stretches and a short run and builds on them. She’s not going to try to bulk up as a four year old, but speed, stamina and flexibility are harmless as far as exercises go, and are something every child has, to some extent.

She’s just going to make sure she has more than most.

Sakura makes sure to always be back before her parents, so she can shower and start on dinner and plan the tales she’s going to spin about the book she’s ‘read’ or the children she’d met at the park, or the cute dog she’d gotten to pet. (the last one is sometimes true)

The guilt of lying to her parents day in, day out hardly registers.

She’s sure the relief on her face is comical when her cast finally gets removed, if Mebuki’s laughter is anything to go by.

“Was it really that bad?” her mother teases as they leave the hospital, hand in hand because Sakura is suddenly small and needs parental guidance.

“The worst!” she agrees, quashing the automatic wince at the squeakiness of her voice, and pouts. “It itched and I couldn’t shower prop’ly and it made reading difficult!” and when Mebuki laughs, the vice around Sakura’s heart eases, if only a little.

She plays up the childishness for her mother, aware that the woman is going to be robbed of her only child soon, if things go to plan. The least she can do for Haruno Mebuki is pretend to be her innocent, civilian daughter for another few months.

She has experience with play-pretend, after all.

Once she’s free of the cast, the possibilities for what she can work on next seem limitless. She has half an average genin’s chakra pool and the control of a jounin to work with – together, they bring her overall proficiency with her chakra and what she can do with it to about that of a low chunin.

Sakura starts herself off on the Academy Three, and smiles at the nostalgia that rises with the memory of her first time learning them.

Her first henge as a four year old is into her eighteen year old self, and she studies her expression in her bathroom mirror, door locked just in case. The exhaustion, war-weariness and grief are writ deep into the lines on her face, and even her resting expression looks a step away from giving in to despair. Those lines are absent on her current body, and though her eyes could betray her, Sakura has experience keeping certain emotions and expressions at bay.

Thinking of it now, Inner seems conspicuously absent. She muses, and drops the transformation, suddenly staring at the rim of the sink instead of the mirror. Man, the height difference is a worse trip than that time Kotetsu brought brownies into the HQ.

Sakura devotes two weeks to each of the Three: she runs through katas and stretches under henge, cycling through faces she knows won’t be known around the Village yet, races with her bunshin, and does Kawarimi until she can orient herself in the new position within less than a second. She whittles down the hand-seals she needs for each of them, from four or three to one or two; by the end of the six weeks, her bunshin only need the Tiger seal, while she does henge with Ram. She keeps two of the original four of Kawarimi, Tiger and Snake, the first and the last, because it is the closest to Space-Time manipulation out of the Three, and the most likely to go wrong if she takes a shortcut.

(she is not that arrogant. yet.)

Originally, she never really gave much thought to the Academy Three, beyond learning them to graduate and confusing Ino with bunshin in the Preliminaries.

Her mistake.

She remembers Kakashi thoroughly whooping Sasuke’s post-Orochimaru, post-Itachi, post-Rinnegan, post-literal-reincarnation-of-a-spirit-and-the-mother-of-all-power-ups ass using only the Academy Three and a kunai.

It is one of her fonder memories.

Therefore, she can hardly bring herself to regret spending six weeks on something she knows she could do in her sleep. Kakashi himself was testament to how far the basics could take you if you used them well.

Three months after landing in her four year old body, Sakura has the reserves of her old genin self, can walk on water, run through the stretches and katas Tsunade had taught her, and has an arguably greater mastery of the Academy Three than she had as an adult.

It’s good, the progress she’s made. Immensely satisfying too, when she remembers that she’s at the same level after three months of serious training that she was after six years in the Academy.

But it’s still not enough.

It’s not enough to catch Danzo’s attention. Not enough to be noticed by ROOT without doing anything drastic to out herself as a ‘genius’. She’s a skilled four year old, a civilian prodigy, but realistically little different from some Clan kids. Sasuke’s brother could probably kick her around, the extra half-decade of experience and living through a war on her side be damned.

She needs something special. Something nobody else could do. Something rare or extinct or so venerated nobody would dare–

Sakura freezes.

‘Everybody always raves about my grandfather’s Wood Release, how it’s such a unique kekkei genkai, an extinct nature transformation, all that jazz.’ She remembers Tsunade saying, after a few too many drinks even by her standards. ‘But it’s not. It wasn’t. A kekkei genkai, that is. At least not properly. It was just insane control, but one he was born with.’ She remembers echoing ‘control?’ and the wry smile Tsunade had offered her. ‘Yeah. He mixed Water chakra in one hand and Earth in the other, and used his chakra as the life-force. Everybody who’s attempted to recreate it needed his DNA because nobody, not Orochimaru, not Obito, and certainly not Madara could even dream of that level of chakra control.’ The look Tsunade had levelled her with was far too assessing and calculating for her inebriated state. ‘You could do it, I think. They’re your elements and god knows your control is better than mine. Bring back honour to my grandfather’s technique.’

This is it.

Sakura lets out a breathy laugh, suddenly exhilarated. She has the vote of confidence of the granddaughter of the God of Shinobi himself.

She cannot fail.

Over the next few months, Sakura falls into a routine.

She wakes up early, stretches and goes downstairs to eat breakfast with her parents as they prepare for work. She waves them off and gets dressed, grabs a meal she’d prepared earlier in the week from the fridge and goes to train. She works solely on elemental ninjutsu.

She builds up an arsenal she never had as Haruno Sakura, Godaime’s apprentice and Head of Konoha Hospital, works and works and works because for the first time, she can devote her entire days to training.

Once a week, Sakura takes the tin of ‘spending money’ her parents set out for her and goes shopping for high-calorie, high-protein foods. She buys pasta and grains and organ meats and eggs and avocado and sea vegetables and nuts and beans and everything the nutritionist in her knows her body needs with how much stress and activity she’s putting it through, and spends an entire day cooking. She boxes the pre-cooked meals in tupperware and hides her stash at the bottom shelf of the fridge, under a low level notice-me-not genjutsu that her civilian parents have little chance of ever dispelling.

When her fifth birthday rolls around, six months since she landed in the past, she’s built her way up to B-Ranks, with four techniques for each element. She takes no small amount of pride in the fact that she has more techniques under her belt than genin-Sasuke had, and that alone is enough to allow her to sit through her parents’ birthday celebrations and play the happy-go-lucky five year old she is supposed to be with minimal exasperation.  

To her surprise, her parents get her clothes. Boyish clothes. Training clothes.

“You’re growing like a weed, Sakura-chan.” Her dad laughs, and Sakura is inwardly surprised he noticed. “Plus, we thought the fact that your collection of dresses is gathering dust might be a hint you want a change of style?”

She blinks, thrown for a second, and then it clicks.

Her parents see her in her pyjamas in the morning, and after her shower in the evening. By then, she’s dressed in comfortable clothes, too tired to bother with cute dresses or accessories. She walks around the house almost exclusively in shorts and leggings and neutral-coloured, plain tops, because that’s what she used to do, whenever she had any off days from the hospital.

Only she’s five, not fifteen, a civilian instead of a harried med-nin and shinobi, and as far as her parents are aware, she goes to the park every day and plays with other children and has no reason to not have the energy to care about coordinating colours.

(This time, the wave of guilt is harder to ignore.)

Sakura swallows. Smiles.

“Thank you, okaa-san, otou-san.” She manages, throat oddly tight. “You were right. I love them.”

When her parents flash her twin, brilliant smiles, she thanks the heavens they think their daughter’s change in appearance is due to her having developed a tomboy side, and not the fact that she’s training to be a pint-sized assassin.

It’s a good cover though, the one her parents accidentally provide her with. She dresses in muted colours and trousers even on weekends now, and she knows the ease and relief she feels must somehow radiate off of her because her parents smile at her whenever they catch eyes and she smiles back and it’s easier, now. One less layer to the play-pretend. And once she asks to cut her hair, something she never quite had the guts to try before, her mother only titters a little before she takes her to the salon, and Sakura sits in the far-too-big chair and watches the hairdresser work until only inch-long tufts of pink remain.

The smile she gives her mother as they leave feels like her truest one yet.

Two weeks later, Sakura has devoured every book, scroll or notebook the library has on offer about Wood Release, as well as every history book that so much as mentions Senju Hashirama. She visits the library henged as Shizune, confident in the fact that her old senpai is yet-unknown to Konohagakure ninja, and takes out books under a false name. For a Village of killers trained to look underneath the underneath, she somehow slips through, not even registering on the radar.

Seven months in, she sits in the forest with one hand pressed to the ground and one dipped in a puddle she’d made, and tries to concentrate on splitting her chakra. Water-natured chakra in the puddle-hand, Earth-natured in the other.

It takes weeks.

To deal with her frustration, she henges into Shizune again and buys weapons; kunai, shuriken, senbon and throws in a tanto for good measure, and vents by carving crude targets into the trees.

Her aim starts off horrendous.

The muscle-memory she relied on in her old timeline is gone. Her reach is not the same. Her height pisses her off.

Within the first two weeks, her aim improves. Drastically.

(yes, she’s fucking frustrated)

Nine months in, she can split her chakra and keep it separated for five minutes.

Sakura takes a week’s break to prepare herself to actually bring them back together.

At the end of her self-appointed vacation, she’s back in the forest, chakra separated into Water and Earth, and a single rose bud lies on the ground in front of her, mocking her.

Slowly, carefully, she brings her hands together and laces her fingers into the Snake seal, and concentrates on the bud in front of her. She lets the chakra come together, makes sure not to lose track of either thread, and weaves it into a net of intent formed of two synched, yet distinct energies. She holds her breath, lets her chakra go, and wills the bud to bloom.

It does.

Sakura wishes she could say that after that little triumph, it gets easier.

It doesn’t.

It takes weeks to make even the barest half-step towards progress. A month later, she can make a flower bloom at her feet without first having the bulb, or even the seed.

Two months later and eleven months after landing in this world, the first sapling sprouts beside her, and she feeds it chakra and watches as it grows into a young cherry blossom tree, only a little taller than her.

But progress is still slow.

She’s grasping at straws, playing entirely by ear, and there are no guidelines, no textbooks, no tutors she can use. She’s remaking a kekkei genkai by breaking it into its most base elements and using her chakra control to piece it back together.

A year and a half after waking up as a four year old, around her sixth birthday, she can call up a wooden wall, a protective dome, and send the roots at imaginary attackers. Her long-distance control, however, leaves a lot to be desired.

But it’s of little consequence, because in early June, a month before the first Academy application forms are sent out, Sakura feels a familiar corrosive, corrupt chakra at the edges of the clearing she uses as her training ground.

Danzo.

There’d been flickers of suppressed signatures around her for the last few days, ones she was confident belonged to ROOT agents for the simple lack of any undercurrent of emotion in the chakra. Now, the big bad wolf himself had come to see.

Sakura spends the next few evenings spoiling her parents. She cooks extravagant meals for when they come back from work, smiles frequently and makes sure to wear the necklace they gave her for her sixth birthday. If they notice the change, they don’t say anything and Sakura is grateful. She persuades them into movie night one evening, and holds the laughter and hugs that are passed around close to her heart.

She memorises her parents’ faces and scents and how it feels to have their arms wrapped around her.

The next time she goes to train, she’s got a small sealing scroll of her most important possessions in her hip pouch.

One day goes by peacefully. So does the second.

On the third, Sakura greets the flicker of chakra in her periphery and the darkness that descends on her when someone strikes the back of her neck with a bittersweet smile.

Chapter Text

When Sakura opens her eyes, it takes her a second to realise what exactly she’s looking at.

Metal. Sturdy metal planks, the scaffolding of a bunk bed. The wall to her left is grey cement, and her fingers stroke over scratchy, bleached sheets. Slowly, cautiously, she sits up.

The room around her is bare. Another bunk bed stands against the opposite wall. There are also two chests of drawers by the far wall. No window. A single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, and the weak, yellow light casts eerie shadows on the corners of the room.

And then she has no more time to look around as a uniformed, yet unmasked teen appears before her.

“Come.” He orders simply, then turns on his heel and heads towards the reinforced steel door.

Sakura scrambles up, notes that her pack is still secure around her waist, and hastens to follow her escort. He leads her through bare, poorly-lit, winding corridors that seem to go on forever, until finally, they reach a set of double-doors. The teen knocks twice then pushes them open, revealing what can only be described as a throne room.

And on the opposite end –

Sakura’s breath catches in her throat.

Danzo.

Her escort starts forward, across what seems to be a bridge, and Sakura fights the temptation to look over the railing and check how big the drop is. There are weird, metal pipes that stick out from the walls and climb up, up, higher than Sakura can see, and with a jolt, she realises that they’re underground. Deep underground, from the looks of it. It would explain the lack of windows.

When they’re within thirty feet of the Elder, Sakura suddenly feels a hand push between her shoulder blades. She’s not expecting the movement so it catches her off-balance, and the force behind the hit brings her to her knees. Sakura hits the floor with a thud and a hiss, barely catches herself on her hands to keep her nose from smacking into the cement floor.

“The newest recruit, as you requested, Danzo-sama.” Her escort announces, falling into a deep bow.

“At ease, Nezumi.” Danzo orders, and Sakura hears him move even as her eyes are still focused on her hands. “Look up, child.” he says sharply, and Sakura carefully raises her gaze.

Danzo has stood up and stepped out from behind the desk, and now his single, piercing eye is trained on her.

 “Do you know why you’re here?” he asks, and Sakura debates for a split-second whether to lie or come clean right now.

(it’s possible she hasn’t quite thought this through.)

Lie.

She shakes her head. “No, sir.” She denies, feels the thrum of approval in the Elder’s chakra at the title.

“My people saw you play around with something very special. Do you know what it was?”

Sakura’s hesitation is real this time, but she still repeats, “No, sir.”

Danzo’s gaze sharpens.

“Do you not know, then, that Wood Release hasn’t been seen occurring naturally since the Shodaime?”

Sakura doesn’t miss how he highlights ‘naturally’, then she has a split second to decide whether to repeat herself again, or up the stakes. She chooses the latter.

“’Wood Release’, sir?”

Danzo lets out a sound that she almost wants to call frustrated. He turns to Nezumi. “Civilian?”

“Yes, sir.” The teen confirms, having straightened from his bow. “No indication of shinobi heritage.”

A jolt of fear runs through Sakura at the notion that ROOT had already managed to get information on her family, but it’s forcefully shoved to the back of her mind when Danzo nods sharply and turns his attention back to her.

“You have a unique gift that, by all accounts, you shouldn’t have.” He starts, and Sakura stills. “When did you realise you could manipulate nature?”

Think think THINK!

“I…”

Sakura thinks back to her old life, to Naruto losing control of the Kyuubi when overcome with emotion, to Sasuke’s chidori sparkling off of him in uncontrollable bursts in his grief, to Kakashi’s unexpected viciousness when he learnt of every comrade they lost in the war, to Yamato creating beautiful gardens of death when he found out that Sai had been killed.

Emotion.

A shinobi’s greatest strength and greatest downfall.

Lie, she reminds herself.

“I got into an argument with my parents.” She manages at last, hangs her head in pretend-remorse. “I… they yelled at me, I was upset and I-I ran away from home. I ended up in the f-forest, and when I fell and hit the grass, flowers bloomed around me.” She’s breathless when she finishes, the run-on sentences and adrenaline masking the tremor in her voice.

She’s never been a good liar, but here she is, lying to one of the best deceivers Konoha has ever seen.

Danzo scrutinises her for a moment, and the silence is suffocating.

“I can teach you to control it.” He says finally, and Sakura jerks in surprise. There’s an odd glint in the Elder’s eye when she looks up, a mix of hunger and satisfaction. “I can teach you to wield it. Do you want that?”

For a second, Sakura is stunned, speechless.

She’s still alive. He believed her.

Then, she remembers that she’s six. A civilian. A child, and a girl at that.

Danzo may be crazy and paranoid, but apparently, even he doesn’t expect deception from everyone.

“Yes!” she almost sobs, her relief very much real, then composes herself. “Yes, sir. I do.”

Something awful happens to Danzo’s face then – all his scars twist and his lip twitches and the skin around his eye crinkles and pulls and- oh.

Danzo is smiling.

Then Nezumi strikes the back of her neck and her eyes fall shut to the memory of that haunting expression.

Over the next few days, Sakura’s tested almost relentlessly; they take her blood, saliva, skin and hair samples, but they also drill her in the ninja arts: she’s put through tests for nin, tai, genjutsu, weapons throwing, flexibility, speed, stamina, strategy – and it’s terrifying but also exhilarating.

Terrifying, because she has to carefully plan each and every action because she has a cover to maintain, but exhilarating, because she knows she could ace every single one of those tests if she was actually taking them seriously.

She intentionally flunks ninjutsu, because she’s meant to be a civilian with a dormant kekkei genkai not a trained shinobi, passes genjutsu detection and creation once she asks to be shown a technique – they choose to teach her the Hell-Viewing technique, and it’s such a brutal throwback to her first Chunin Exams that she flubs her first attempt and only manages to cast the illusion on the second, but apparently, that’s still good for the shinobi assessing her because he passes her without question.

She makes herself just barely pass taijutsu, alternating between Naruto’s old brawl-style taijutsu and Tsunade-honed dodging, but she lets herself ace weapons throwing.

She keeps her flexibility, speed and stamina only marginally higher than that of a first year Academy student, which in the eyes of her assessor translates to Piss-Poor But Not Unexpected and actually puts in an effort with the strategy, earning the first expression other than detachment or disdain from her evaluator – he raises an eyebrow when she successfully outmanoeuvres two agents she suspects to be orphaned Nara and Yamanaka.

She gets a pass overall, three jutsu scrolls with elementary ninjutsu techniques, only some of which she doesn’t already know, and a uniform.

She also gets a mask; Tori.

Her bunkmate, she learns, is Neko. Her other roomates are Uma and Ushi.

They honestly couldn’t have made it clearer that they were going to make bunkmates fight each other to the death if they’d tried.  

Overall, Sakura’s first week in ROOT is fairly uneventful.

Then, she’s assigned a mission.

On paper, it’s simple: corner one of the civilian nobles with a rumoured taste for minors as he’s leaving the bar and kill him, but make it look like a civilian. She’s mildly thrown by the last instruction, because that throws out nin or taijutsu and even most of her weapons, and she hasn’t had to get up-close and intimate with a target since she grasped Tsunade’s unique taijutsu style.

But she sets out for the mission with Nezumi and Buta – tries to ignore the niggling suspicion that Nezumi is there exclusively as her handler and will report every misstep she makes straight back to Danzo – and gets on with it.

It’s almost shamefully easy to corner the target and lead him to the empty, dark alleyway at the back of the bar, and it’s easier still to knock the man’s feet out from under him and wrap her tiny hands around his throat, pressing in with her thumbs until the thyroid cartilage gives way under her grip and he suffocates.

Sakura rises and tries to ignore the bile that rises in her throat when she thinks that she’s just killed a man in cold blood, ten years before she even came at anyone with the intent to kill in the original timeline.

When she turns to Nezumi and Buta, she gets an approving nod from the former and is beckoned over to Buta’s side with a careless flick of fingers. Once at his side, she allows him to lead her away, back to the base.

They leave so quickly that she completely misses Nezumi step up to the corpse, misses the vial of blood he uncorks and pours over the target and the ground around him, misses the familiar pink hair he sprinkles over the target’s jacket.

All she feels is a mix of disgust and adrenaline, and she carefully doesn’t think why she can’t quite keep a satisfied smile off of her face.

Sakura survives a month without any major complications. She trains with Neko, works up her ninjutsu arsenal and learns the ROOT sign language and does little missions around Konoha, always supervised by Nezumi.

She also learns just how they trained emotion out of the agents.

“I told you, I can’t do that yet!” she yells at Saru, tears of frustration and pain leaking out of her eyes as she’s whipped again. Her back burns, and it’s only been five lashes so far but she’s young and this body is unused to pain.

“You will do what you’re told, when you’re told.” Saru replies flatly, and it’s the same line they’ve rattled off since she first said she can’t make her Wood Release go through thirty feet of solid concrete.

“Concrete isn’t fertile ground! I need a focusing point, a seed, something!” she snaps back, dislocates her shoulder in an effort to wrench herself out of Kuma’s grip when she feels it loosen in surprise and jumps away.

She’s topless and bleeding and her back burns with every breath and her eyes sting with tears and she’s doubtless added another five lashes onto her list, but she’s six and Saru is holding a cat-o’-nine-tails.

“Lord Danzo has told you that the Shodaime was able to create life out of nothing.” Saru recites dutifully, and Sakura bares her teeth, feels her anger reach a dangerous point.

“And I told you that I’m not the Shodaime!” she shrieks, and it might be paranoia, it might be frustration, or it might be the flicker of movement she registers in her peripheral vision and the twist of something dark and ugly in Saru’s chakra, but she slams her palms together and pushes all the chakra she has left, all her emotions and anger and pain and helplessness into the ground.

Roots burst forth, some ten times the width of her torso, some thinner than her forearm, and she’s thrown off balance, forced onto her bleeding, wounded back and she watches as nature, wild and uncontrolled wreaks havoc in the training room.

There’s an ugly squelching sound and Kuma is skewered by a particularly thick root, caught mid-motion with a kunai raised over his head, and Sakura watches in sick fascination as the root enters around the height of his intestines and leaves through his right lung.

Saru just barely avoids the same fate, but can’t quite escape the small root that wraps around his whip-wielding wrist and twists. There’s a crunch and the whip drops to the ground, Saru’s forearm now at a right angle to the rest of his arm.

The entire room now resembles the roots of the gnarled trees Sakura remembers from the Forest of Death, and all she can hear once the chakra she’d pumped into the technique runs out is the steady drip drip drip of blood from Kuma’s direction.

“Dismissed.” Saru orders, and his voice is tight with pain but also something else that sounds an awful lot like satisfaction, and Sakura’s most primal instincts tell her to fear that tone.

She hears the big steel door to the training room open and slam shut, and then she’s alone.

Sakura breathes out and carefully rolls herself onto her front, hissing when her back pulls and the scabbed over wounds tear open. She lies there for what feels like an age, debating whether now would be a good time to experiment and see whether she has enough control for her full-body Mystical Palm or whether she should get over herself and limp to the medic.

And then she’s snapped out of her musings as a body settles beside her.

She twists her head and notes that the figure is also small, but considerably bigger than her. A teen then, maybe, but what matters is that they throw a towel over her back and start nudging her to sit up.

“Hey,” the boy murmurs, and it’s the gentlest Sakura’s been addressed since landing herself in ROOT, “still conscious?”

“Yeah.” she manages after a beat, because nodding sounds like an awful idea right now.

“Your back needs to be cleaned. Will you let me carry you?” the boy – Ōkami, she realises, once she gets a look at his mask – asks, and once she murmurs another ‘yes’, he carefully pulls her to her feet and helps her climb onto his back, piggy-back style.

“I’m sorry to move you, but they’ll probably send someone to destroy your creation soon, and it would be unfortunate to be caught in the middle of that.” Ōkami tells her, and it’s not quite cheerful, but there’s an edge of personality behind the words, and that’s more than Sakura’s heard in a month.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” She manages, cheek pressed to her unlikely saviour’s shoulder as the blood-loss starts making itself known.

They eventually end up in a room that’s almost identical to Sakura’s, with the same two bunkbeds and closets and washbasins, only this room has pages upon pages of artwork stuck to the walls. It’s childish but surprisingly intricate, and familiar in a way she can’t quite place at the moment.

She lets Ōkami set her on the bottom bunk, gratefully accepts the offered painkillers, and rides out the sting of antiseptic and the pierce-and-pull of hand stitches, and the gauze that the teen tapes to her back.

When he’s done, she pillows her head on her folded arms and does her best to send him a smile. “Thank you.” She repeats, and her smile widens when he takes off his mask. She may have overestimated his age in her initial guess, because while the hair is grey, his face still retains the baby-fat of preteen years. Ten to twelve, she would say, though his eyes make him seem older than Kakashi.

“I’m Tori.” She says at last, realising she left her mask in the training room. “Though…” she hesitates, but she doesn’t feel the expected anxiety at what she’s about to say. “I used to be called Sakura.”

“I can see why.” The teen replies, and he doesn’t smile, not quite, but his expression grows warmer nonetheless. “I’m Ōkami, and that lump there is Inu.” He gestures to the top bunk of the opposite bed, where Sakura can just about make out a dark-haired head peeking out from a nest of blankets.

“Before…” he continues, hesitates in that same way Sakura did, “before, I used to be called Shin, and my brother’s name is Sai.”

Sakura freezes.

Chapter Text

Sai.

Sakura’s thoughts are a maelstrom.

This had been the whole point of reviving an extinct Nature Transformation, of getting caught by ROOT, of risking desensitisation and death willingly and consistently: kill or expose Danzo, and save Sai.

But now, having the boy actually in front of her, the abstract idea of saving Sai becomes a must.

He is so small.

At his introduction, he peaks his tiny head out of the nest of blankets and blinks sleepily at Sakura, then goes right back to sleep.

Sakura’s even more thrown by the fact that there’s life in his eyes!

Operation: Save Sai has just become a priority. She thinks wryly, feels the surge of protectiveness in her heart at the soft, snuffling snore that comes from the bunk not a few seconds later.

She turns back to Shin, and she’s not sure what he sees on her face, but the look in his eyes softens just a touch more.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks, and Sakura nods, only just realising that she’s starving.

She’s a bit woozy and still casually topless, because she’s six and even at eighteen she didn’t have much in terms of breasts so it hardly fazes her, and also she’s got big, painful wounds all over her back. Still, Shin must take her sudden silence for discomfort and she barely catches the shirt he throws at her face.

For a kid only about ten or eleven, he’s scarily perceptive and rather hilariously motherly.

Sakura accepts the manju gratefully though she raises an eyebrow at the surprising freshness. Shin’s lip quirks upwards the tiniest bit.

“Our third roommate has… special circumstances.” He says cryptically, and Sakura knows even without asking that that’s all he’s going to say on that matter.

She shrugs and gets the manju down, then lets herself ask the uncomfortable question that had been bothering her since Shin offered to treat her wounds.

“Why did you help me?” she asks quietly, because she’s in his room with his gauze across her back, dressed in his shirt and eating his food, and yet they’re both in an organisation whose very goal is to encourage the ‘every man for himself’ mentality.

It just doesn’t add up.

Shin sighs, but that peculiar quirk to his lip doesn’t disappear, and if not for the fact that Sakura knows otherwise, she would wonder if he too had travelled in time because the look in his eyes is old.

“The first thing they stamp out in ROOT isn't emotion.” He replies, and he looks tired, world-weary in a way someone who’s not even a teen yet has no right to be.

“It's aggression. That’s why you were punished; not because you couldn’t do what they wanted you to, but because you resisted. You're young and you're new, but you fight it, fight the conditioning. You remember that there's another way.”

Sakura frowns, tries not to acknowledge the shiver of sheer dread that runs down her back, instead says;

“You do too, don't you? You helped me, dressed my wounds, brought me to your room. Clearly, you must remember too.”

She’s reaching, testing her luck, testing Shin, because she had planned to keep the fact that she was resisting the conditioning as much she could a secret, but if she could have an ally, someone who clearly also cared for Sai, then maybe…

“I almost don't.” Shin denies, and the almost-smile turns into an unhappy frown. “It's been too long for me. But I try to. Because I can't let Sai forget.”

And that, right there, that devotion… Sakura wonders just how long it had been, and before her brain quite catches up, she asks;

“How long has it been? How long have you been here?”

“Almost three years.” Comes the immediate response, and Sakura’s heart aches.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

“I'm sorry.” She whispers, even though she should be putting more effort into her cover, into convincing him that she really is six and doesn’t know exactly what she’s signing up for, being in ROOT, but he’s just a child and to think what he must’ve endured… “I'm so sorry.”

And then, because she can’t not, she adds, “And, I'm also sorry but I have to ask... How do I know that this isn't some kind of test?”

To her surprise, the almost-smile comes back, and there’s a glint that looks almost like hope in Shin’s eyes.

“You may yet survive this.” He murmurs, settles on the bed beside her. “You don’t. How about a trade?”

Sakura’s eyes narrow, but she nods hesitantly.

“I am ill. They think it’s terminal.” He says, and Sakura thinks she remembers Sai mentioning something of the like, but to hear Shin say it so matter-of-fact still breaks her heart. “But before I die, I’m going to do everything in my power to bring this organisation down for what it did to my brother.”

Sakura tenses, shocked. “I…” she hesitates. “I could report you for this, you know.”

Because she could. She should, and he has to know that.

“I know.” And the quirk to his lips is bittersweet this time. 

He doesn’t say but you won’t, he doesn’t need to. They both know she won’t.

Sakura is suddenly struck with the realisation that if Shin survived, he would’ve been terrifying. That level of manipulation, the skill at reading the tells and responding in kind, of saying a lot while not saying anything much at all, the constant control of trust and the power-balance… Sakura swallows nervously.

“What’s the trade?” she asks, almost inaudibly, and a victorious glint passes through Shin’s eyes for just a millisecond, before it’s hastily wiped away.

“If me and my partner die before we succeed, will you finish what we couldn’t?”

Sakura nods, because that’s what she planned for anyway, then a thought registers. “Who’s your partner?”

Shin smiles, and it’s the first proper smile she’s seen from him since this whole ordeal began, and she’s suddenly breathless.

“I think you’re about to meet him, actually.”

Then, the door opens and Sakura’s breath catches in her throat.

Shisui limps into his dorm, exhausted and bruised, and he wants nothing more than to sleep and report in the morning, and then maybe he’ll be allowed to go home and see Itachi and play with little Sasuke and forget how the rivers of blood he leaves behind him grow deeper after every mission he runs.

He’s not prepared to find Shin on Kuma’s bed with an unknown, pink-haired child beside him, who’s staring at him with a look he’s only seen on one person before. The thought of his cousin is a fond one, as is seeing the smile Shin directs at him, but the child is still an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous.

“Shin.” He greets and shuts the door behind him, grabs an apple from his pack before dropping it and his mask on the floor. “Where’s Kuma?”

He doesn’t like his bunkmate, but he’s necessary if Shisui wants to gain Danzo’s trust and be allowed on the guarding rotation.

To his surprise, it’s the child who answers.

“I killed him.” she – or Shisui guesses she’s a she – says, and Shisui shouldn’t be surprised, god knows Itachi started young too, but it’s the girl’s eyes, a mix of curiosity and wariness when she looks at him, but not a hint of guilt, that draw his attention. “Training accident.”

What sort of monster must hide behind the pink hair and guileless eyes, Shisui wonders as he nibbles at his apple, if she can get the drop on the shinobi who’d been ROOT even during the Third War and survived?

“Was it now?” he asks coldly and leans against the opposite bunk, expression intentionally unreadable. He trusts Shin, but he should know better than to bring random children into their room or he might jeopardise their whole operation.

His eyes flicker to Shin’s hand which has been twitching annoyingly since he walked in, then he frowns when he realises there’s a pattern to the twitches:

-L-L-Y-A-L-L-Y-A-L-L-

He scoffs, and relaxes, letting the tension fade from his shoulders.

“Must’ve been some accident.” He says at last, and he knows he sounds dubious, but the girl just smiles wryly instead of looking offended.

“Tends to happen when you’re messing around with an extinct Nature Transformation.” She replies tartly and shrugs, though Shisui doesn’t miss the wince of pain that flashes over her face at the motion.

Huh, so she was punished. Interesting.

“’Extinct’?” he echoes, when her words fully register, and a peculiar expression flickers over the girl’s face – she’s surprisingly emotive for a ROOT recruit, but the look in her eyes at his question is sharp and challenging.

There’s a second of silence, and then Shisui nearly has a heart attack because the half-eaten apple in his hand suddenly dries up and goes brown, and then it sprouts and a seedling is growing out of his hand in the next second, growing to almost two feet tall before Shisui finally unfreezes and drops it.

The tree doesn’t stop growing once it hits the floor, and he watches, transfixed, as it goes through a many-years’ life cycle in the span of seconds, roots growing out and wrapping around the metal legs of the bunkbeds, winding around Shisui’s ankles, slithering along the floor like wooden snakes, and his brain kicks into gear when flowers begin to bloom on the tree and the scent of spring fills the air.

He flashes through the necessary seals and spits a small fireball at the tree, and for a moment, he’s worried that it won’t be enough, that it’ll keep growing, but within seconds, the tree is reduced to a pile of ash at his feet, and the smell of spring in the air is overwhelmed by the smell not unlike that of a bonfire.

He stares at the girl, momentarily speechless.

There are three options for what he just witnessed, and they’re all insane. Genjutsu, some time-controlling technique, or Mokuton?

Then, he realises that she’d said ‘extinct Nature Transformation’ and he almost doesn’t want to believe, but asks anyway;

“Mokuton?” and his voice is quiet, disbelieving, like speaking any louder will break the magic of the moment and he’ll wake up still in the field, delirious from some topical poison.

But the girl nods, and even Shin looks serious so he knows she’s not lying. Shisui sighs and lets himself slide down the bunk and drops on to his bum on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

“Wow.” He murmurs, because he may have the Mangekyo and Itachi may be the youngest in their Clan’s history to unlock the Sharingan, but being one of three people to have the Shodaime’s legendary technique is still something that makes his jaw drop.

“I’m Uchiha Shisui, mask Risa.” He adds belatedly, and the girl offers him a small smile.

“Sakura. My mask is Tori.”

“Well, Sakura,” and Shisui isn’t normally so quick to trust, but Shin must’ve already tested the girl and found her worthy, so he lets the grin he normally keeps for Sasuke surface and moves to sit on his heels, “how do you feel about revolution?”

The smile that blooms on the girl’s face is brilliant and mischievous and bloodthirsty and just a touch unhinged, and Shisui has his answer.

Things fall into a routine from there, and Sakura is startled when she realises she’s been a ROOT agent for almost half a year.

She barely sleeps in her room anymore, staying instead on Kuma’s old bunk in the boys’ room, and every night, the adrenaline rush at the possibility of being discovered makes her tremble, but the dopamine rush afterwards, when she makes it to their room without detection is totally worth it.

Sakura doesn’t spend time with her bunkmate save for the obligatory weekly training sessions, yet she feels sorry for Neko. The other girl is very obviously an Inuzuka, but her ninken is nowhere to be found, and, Sakura suspects, she never had one. Neko has all the marks, all the aggression and animalistic qualities of a trained Inuzuka, but none of the comfort of partnership that Kiba got from Akamaru, and it shows in their fights. Neko is brutal and aggressive and always first to strike, but she’s also reckless and careless, so despite the advantage of age she has over Sakura, she’s not beating Sakura by an enormous margin in terms of spars won.

(Sakura also wonders how someone from a Clan linked with dog spirits feels at being called ‘Neko’, and can’t help but wonder whether it was intentional.)

As for the boys…

Shisui is insane. He’s thirteen and he’s a jounin and an ANBU operative and he’s fast. Sakura’s willing to bet that he might even be faster than Kakashi, and she hadn’t, in her old life, been able to match Kakashi in terms of speed even with the Strength of a Hundred seal active. The fact that he’s got the Mangekyo only adds to the insanity.

Shin’s quiet calm occasionally breaks to reveal a sharp sense of humour that reminds Sakura a lot of Shiranui Genma, and the boy’s skill with a blade, be it a tanto or a katana or a nodachi is a little terrifying.

And Sai. Sai is the artist Sakura remembers, even if he has trouble animating anything bigger than a mouse at the moment. Sakura finds out that, Shin and Shisui have been taking turns training him in other areas, and that his speed is at the level of genin Sasuke and he can comfortably hold his own against Shin for a minute with a blade in hand.

She adds a touch of her old life to the boys’ training regimen, regaling them with lists of naturally-occurring poisons and their effects and which parts of the body should be struck to knock-out, and which to weaken, and which to kill.

That’s not to say Sakura doesn’t get drilled by the others. Shisui takes her role as co-conspirator to mean I will train you until I can be certain you’ll survive and Sakura finds herself thinking that Tsunade was a gentle mistress. Her speed, however, quickly increases to equal or even superior to Sai’s.

Shin puts a blade in her hand and is promptly appalled and Sakura snarls, because in her previous life, she had never had the need nor the interest to pursue bukijutsu, but she doubts she can whip out her enhanced strength without making her new allies suspicious. But she tries hard and feels most comfortable with twin kodachi in her hands, and though Shin laments that she holds them like a barbarian, she’s efficient, and that’s all that matters.

She improves at a rate that would’ve been alarming had she not been surrounded by child geniuses, and while she can feel the mental strain of trying to pretend the ROOT conditioning is working, the reprieves she gets with the boys are her saving grace.

Nevertheless, she is self-aware enough to know her psyche is fracturing. She’s being torn into three, split into Sakura-the-emotionless-ROOT-agent, Sakura-the-eighteen-year-old-veteran-with-PTSD and Sakura-the-six-year-old, but she’s also aware enough to know that there’s nothing she can do except hope that she doesn’t have a mental breakdown while on a mission.

It’s a worrying thought, but at the moment, it’s just that – a thought.

She has made friends in ROOT, a concept which seems oxymoronic at its core, but it’s true.

Her, Shin and Shisui are united in their desire to burn ROOT to the ground, and she knows that if she stays loyal to the goal, they will stay loyal to her.

Sai is content to just have her around to talk to or sketch with, and she sometimes ends up modelling while he works out the kinks in his drawings, and the surge of fondness and protectiveness doesn’t wane. Sai is subdued, colder than most children their age, but he’s lightyears away from the boy Sakura met in her teens in her previous life, and she’s determined to keep him that way.

Overall, despite the soul-staining missions she’s assigned, and the almost-impossible tasks Saru sets her when she’s working on her Wood Release, and the shift she can feel in her psyche caused by the conditioning, Sakura’s content.

And, as long as her Wood Release keeps improving and she comes back after completing missions, Danzo has no grounds on which to question her continued loyalty.

After eight months in ROOT, Sakura has run more missions than she did in her six years as a kunoichi of Konoha in her previous life. Things are going well.

Then, Shisui introduces her to his cousin, and it doesn’t click just who that is until Sakura’s staring Uchiha Itachi in the face.

Chapter Text

They're at the only indoor training ground in HQ that isn't entirely made of concrete but has dirt and sand and some trees and even foliage. But Sakura can't appreciate it, frozen as she is by the sight of the face of the man whose loyalty to his Village had destroyed his brother, who had been known as the worst to come out of Konoha save for maybe Orochimaru, still lined with baby-fat.

Shin and Sai are beside her, both quiet and still as they wait for Shisui to speak.

Sakura is still cataloguing the differences between Uchiha Itachi, S-Ranked criminal turned martyr patriot and Uchiha Itachi, eleven year old child.

He's so small next to Shisui, slighter than even Shin despite the latter's illness, and it's only now that Sakura, presented with the painful reality, realises that Sarutobi had ordered a child to murder his family.

Sakura is suddenly hit with a wave of sheer loathing for the Sandaime.

"Cousin, this is Tori, Inu and Ōkami." Shisui introduces, and Sakura privately finds it curious that he doesn't use their real names. They may be out in the training ground instead of in their sound-proofed room, but it's the middle of the night, a time even ROOT agents sleep, despite the lack of windows to tell the time - the chances of being overheard are low.

Or, she thinks, notes the look Shisui trades with Shin, sees the unspoken message even if she knows not what it is, he doesn't trust Itachi.

"It's a pleasure." Shin murmurs, and Sakura hums in confirmation while Sai nods. "Though I can't help but wonder why the Uchiha heir would come here, of all places?"

Sakura barely restrains herself from shooting Shin an incredulous look, and she sees Sai tense out of the corner of her eye. So she's not alone in thinking that this is uncharacteristic behavior for Shin, but when Shisui relaxes ever so slightly, Sakura reckons she might have an inkling as to what the wordless conversation they'd had had been about.

Itachi, though not the emotionless terror of her memories, hardly reacts beyond a miniscule frown between his brows.

"Father wishes for me to try for ANBU soon." He reports quietly, if tonelessly, voice far softer than Sakura expected. "He believed this would be an... efficient way of testing my capability."

Shin's lip curls, but the smile is mirthless, the expression is far from friendly. "Then I propose a spar. Tori, if you would?"

Sakura can't help the twitch of surprise this time, but she schools her expression when she sees the calculating glint in Shin's eyes, and the relief in Shisui's. She doesn't know what those two are playing at, but she would be lying if she said that, beyond the apprehension at facing a genius, she isn't excited to test the limitations of this body.

She nods sharply and heads for one side of the training ground, not turning to see if Itachi follows. She knows he is.

Sakura lets the barrage of kunai fly, and as the blades are deflected, creates earth clones. The problem with fighting geniuses, she's learnt, is that they either try to end the fight with one punch, because they can, or they underestimate their opponent, allowing them to draw the fight out.

Itachi, Sakura realises, belongs to the latter category.

All the better for her.

She sends one of the earth clones to attack Itachi head-on, unsurprised when it's destroyed before it has a chance to land a single solid hit, but in the time Itachi's attention is diverted, she flashes through the hand-signs and sends chakra-sharpened earth spikes at Itachi, and as he dodges, she uses his moment of inattention to henges one of her clones into a shuriken.

Sakura grabs a handful more shuriken and throws them at Itachi, unsurprised when they're harmlessly deflected, but she sees the tiny flash of surprise when her shuriken-clone is suddenly at the Uchiha's back, kunai drawn.

Itachi dispatches her clone effortlessly, but in that precious second that he's not looking at her, Sakura creates a Shadow Clone and lets herself drop underground in Kakashi's favorite technique, the changeover almost seamless.

She would be worried by being left with a third of her normal reserves if they were in the field, but in the context of this spar, she's unconcerned. She knows neither of them are fighting to kill.

Sakura positions herself under his feet, feels her earth clones pop from a fireball even as her Shadow Clone dodges, and pushes both hands through the ground to grab Itachi's ankle.

She gets a kunai to the hand for her efforts, though she manages to twist so it cuts her forearm instead, and she's inexplicably angry that he got first blood, and that powers her enough to jerk Itachi's foot underground while she surfaces and goes for the trees, chakra hidden.

As Itachi spits a small Water Bullet at his captive ankle, the waterlogged earth giving easily and letting him extract his foot, he misses the moment Sakura kawarimis with her clone, though he meets the barrage of shuriken she throws at him with his eyes blazing Sharingan-red, for the first time since they began the fight.

Sakura doesn't give him time to retaliate, though she can see, with no small amount of satisfaction, that that perfect, unruffled facade is beginning to crumble. She rushes him then, meets his perfect taijutsu forms with Tsunade-trained dodging and Shisui-trained speed, and for all that Itachi is a genius, at their current ability levels, he's slower.

Sakura lets a smile bloom on her face and forgets her inhibitions for a moment.

Shin knows that if Clan Heads were decided on skill, not birth, it would be his best friend as the heir apparent of the Uchiha Clan, not his best friend's cousin.

He also knows that for all that Shisui plays the fool, for all that he's decidedly unlike the rest of the Uchiha, he is probably the best of the Clan, and not just in terms of strength on the battlefield.

Shisui graduated the Academy at 6 years old, became chunin at 7, gained his Mangekyo that same year. ROOT at ten years old, jounin at 11, ANBU at 12 - there was nowhere to go but up, but there was nowhere 'up' for him to go.

Which is why Shin didn't hesitate to throw the girl he's slowly beginning to think of as his younger sister at the Uchiha genius. They all have their stories, their secrets, but neither he nor Shisui missed the fact that Sakura seems to be holding something back when they spar, though they can't quite figure out what.

Seeing her fight Itachi, it becomes starkly apparent.

Itachi is a renowned child genius, Shisui is a veteran of the Third War at barely fourteen and a jounin at that, Shin is slowly becoming ROOT's bukijutsu expert while Sai is shaping up to be a ferocious long-range fighter and infiltrator, but Sakura may be the best shinobi of them all.

She uses the terrain to her advantage, throws dirt in Itachi's eyes when he gets too close, hides in plain sight and misdirects his gaze and attention away from her, and has no qualms against fighting dirty even in a spar.

More than that, Shin never realised, because how could he when he was usually despairing at her kenjutsu stance, but Sakura's chakra reserves are enormous for her age. Coupled with her control, he's not surprised to see the Uchiha losing ground.

"Is this what you had in mind?" He mutters out of the corner of his mouth, lets himself smile when he feels Shisui link their pinkies for a second and squeeze, before letting go, all the confirmation either of them need.

Together, they've never needed words.

Itachi doesn't like being a shinobi.

He is one because it's in his blood, because his dojutsu allows him to be the best fighter on the battlefield in any given situation, because he is his Clan's heir and he's been trained to be better-faster-stronger than everyone else since he could walk.

That doesn't mean he enjoys it, not the way some of his clansmen do. But until he is old enough to take over the Clan, he will play the good shinobi and honourable first son, which means he will be the best.

Somehow, in all his planning and training and subtle undermining of his Father's power-plays, he didn't account for ROOT.

More precisely, he didn't think he'd find humanity in ROOT.

Shisui's been in the shadow ranks since his jounin promotion, and Itachi quickly learnt to tell which missions were with standard ANBU and which were ROOT by the expression in his best friend's eyes when he got back home.

But when Fugaku decided to send him to ROOT and asked Shisui to 'show him the ropes', he didn't expect to find Shisui had made friends in a war-hawks deprived safe-guarding organisation of orphan assassins. The easy, wordless exchange between his cousin and the grey-haired boy, the softness and relief in Shisui's expression... Itachi could admit, if only to himself, that it threw him.

But what throws him the most is that he's losing.

He's losing to a girl who's no older than his brother, who barely reaches his armpit in height, who, for all intents and purposes, has had no special training yet has chakra reserves the size of the average chunin and control to match Shisui's.

The only fights Itachi has ever lost since his chunin promotion have been with his Father and Shisui.

He will not lose here.

Sharingan swirling, he switches from the defensive to offensive, throws a fireball to disorient and tracks where the girl dodges to. He flashes there, strikes out with Uchiha Style taijutsu before she has a chance to correct her landing, lands one, two, four hits, dislocating the girl's shoulder with a sickening crunch; then she catches up and gets back into the game of keep-away she's been playing. Itachi lets a small frown show and swoops low, sweeps the girl's legs out from under her, palms a kunai to press into her throat as she falls, but she doesn't stop when she meets the ground back-first, and instead sinks into it.

Itachi doesn't quite manage to twist out of the way of a barrage of senbon which fly towards him from the completely opposite side of the training grounds, and one hits the nerve in his elbow making him drop the kunai, while another sinks deep into the back of his knee, making it buckle.

Aimed at pressure-points. He catalogues absently, a tad incredulously as he sinks to the ground and turns towards the tree-line, hands flashing through the seals for Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu and hurls them at the trees. Then there's movement by his injured knee that makes him grab for a kunai, and the girl rises up from the ground, grabs the knife he dropped as he fell in her working hand and points it at his throat.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, both breathing hard, her knife at his throat, his at her femoral artery, neither dropping eye-contact until slow applause reaches them from the side-lines.

"I'd say you lost that, cousin-dear." Shisui announces cheerfully, lip quirked ever-so-slightly, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

Itachi and the girl both jerk at that, incredulous and disbelieving. Finally, the girl moves, pockets the kunai and holds out a hand to pull him up.

"Good fight." she murmurs and bends down to pluck the senbon from his knee with a wry smile and a pulse of chakra later, Itachi can put weight on his leg without it buckling.

He waits until she straightens and holds out the Seal of Reconciliation, which she mirrors with an absent smile. "Well fought." he echoes, finally taking a moment to assess what damage she suffered over the course of their spar.

Beyond the dislocated shoulder, there are a few kunai cuts and a small burn on her shin where she didn't fully escape his fire jutsu. She falters when she takes a step, uninjured arm coming up to her stomach with a wince and Itachi has a flash-memory of driving his foot in a vicious side-kick into the soft tissue there and he stifles a guilty flinch.

"Sai-chan," the girl calls, walking off the training grounds and towards the youngest boy, pale and dark-haired in such a way that he wouldn't look out of place amongst the Uchiha, "set this for me, will you?"

Itachi has a moment of heart-stopping panic when he imagines asking Sasuke to set his shoulder and is about to offer to do it himself, but the boy nods and sets about maneuvering the joint back into place.

He turns to his cousin and freezes, because there's a curious, calculating expression on Shisui's face, and an even more odd one on his friend's, a worrying mix of amusement and vindictive satisfaction that he wipes away as soon as he notices Itachi looking.

"If you're wondering why we asked you to spar with Tori, Itachi-kun," the boy says, and Itachi feels distinctly uncomfortable, like he's been laid bare before the boy's eyes and found wanting, "it's because you are an acknowledged and renowned genius out there." he continues and jerks his chin at the ceiling, to indicate what 'there' means, "But Shisui wanted you to remember that you're not there, you're here. And here, well." he laughs, but it's humourless and cold, and the smile he offers Itachi is sharp;

"Here there be monsters."

It takes her a year.

A year of being in ROOT, of letting herself become accustomed to the idea of dropping emotions from her decision-making process, of looking at everything around her and thinking 'I can use this' regardless of whether it's an object or a person.

But after a year, and after beating Uchiha Itachi in a spar, Sakura has enough confidence to start planning.

She writes down every major event she can remember, uses a code she and Ino came up with in another lifetime, a code so nonsensical nobody could hope to break it, but it's a piece of home and it works, and she plans.

After three odd years in this body, in this timeline, Sakura can finally admit to herself why she went to ROOT.

Deep down, she knew that if she wanted to enact change, she couldn't approach this life emotionally. She needs to be cool and logical and indifferent; a chess player instead of a chess piece, and for that, she needs to be ruthless.

Yet, once a paper ninja, always a paper ninja, and it shows in her big goals, and how they break off into small, individual steps.

And the one she's going to devote most of her near future efforts to?

Kill Danzo.

The steps?

Get on the bodyguard rotation, find evidence of the corruption she knows is there, bring said evidence to the Sandaime, disband ROOT for good and have Danzo hanged.

The first step to that?

Sakura needs to prove her loyalty.

She needs to kill Neko.

Chapter Text

A few weeks after her decision, Sakura is called into Danzo’s throne room for what she supposes will be her third ‘performance review’.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Danzo finally speaks; “Your Mokuton is progressing at a satisfactory rate.”

“Sir.” Sakura acknowledges, inclining her head, trying to keep her surprise at the observation out of her voice. Coming from Danzo, it's almost a compliment.

“However,” he continues, and despite herself, Sakura tenses, “you have yet to use it on missions, or even in practise outside of your training with Saru. Explain.”

Sakura desperately wracks her brain, tries to come up with something convincing that’s not I still can’t quite believe I can do it and it trips me up every time.

What she ends up saying is a half-truth. “My ability is... distinctive, sir. I am not yet proficient enough in it to be able to ensure that any hostiles who witness me use it in combat and come seeking more information aren't led straight to here.” She pauses, thinks, adds, “It would not do if ROOT was discovered because of me.”

There's a moment of silence as Danzo considers her, but eventually, he gives a curt nod.

“That's a valid point.” He agrees, and Sakura almost sags with relief. “Your proficiency in high level ninjutsu, however,” he continues, “has grown at an impressive rate. Enough so, in fact, to trounce Uchiha Itachi in a spar.

Sakura can’t quite mask the wince as alarm bells flare up in her mind, her muscles frozen in her panic. Of course they have some sort of monitoring system in the training grounds. It was foolish to assume otherwise given Danzo’s paranoia.

“Outside of ROOT, they call him a genius.” Danzo says, his expression calculating. “Would you agree?”

This is a test. Sakura’s brain informs her, and she lets the corner of her lips curl ever so slightly as she answers, choosing her words carefully.

“Uchiha-san is undeniably talented. But... with all due respect, sir, I believe that term to be a double edged sword.” To her surprise, Danzo doesn’t ask her to elaborate, just nods.

“And what of his cousin?” Danzo asks, and that feeling of not right in Sakura’s gut gets stronger. “Uchiha Shisui, I believe you're familiar with him.”

Sakura wonders what the Sai she’d met in her first life would have said to this.

“Shisui-san is a capable shinobi.” She acknowledges, tries not to make the fact that she is hedging obvious. “He has taught me a lot.”

But it seems like Danzo is momentarily caught in his own mind, as he doesn’t react to what she said, and instead mutters, “Yes, yes, it would be a shame to lose the expertise of the Uchiha. They have so much to offer...” and the ominous way he trails off sends shivers down Sakura’s spine.

This is it. She realises with a start. This is how the Massacre came to be.

Then Danzo snaps out of it, and his eye is focused on her. “Are you ready to prove your loyalty?” he demands, and unlike the previous times he'd asked her the same question, this time, Sakura bows her head, sends a quick prayer to the gods for forgiveness and seals her fate.

“Yes, sir. “

The actual fight, Sakura muses, is underwhelming.

Her and Neko are led to one of the most remote training grounds in the base and given a kunai each, their weapons pouches taken away from them before they enter.

Sakura palms a chilli bomb she’d grabbed from her pack before it was taken away, and carefully doesn’t let it show as she faces Neko, kunai drawn.

The other girl is still, tense, but Sakura can feel the energy vibrating beneath her skin, can sense the slight apprehension in her chakra.

In the end, it doesn’t matter.

Nezumi says ‘go’, and before he’s even completely finished, Sakura throws the chilli bomb on the ground in front of Neko, and while her Inuzuka nose is momentarily blinded, she coils her kunai-arm back, channels chakra through her muscles, and throws the knife with all her might, the blade surrounded by a blue glow as it flies and strikes true.

The tip of the blade hits perfectly, exactly in between Neko’s thyroid gland and her cricoid cartilage, piercing straight through her trachea and not pausing as it meets her spine, severing cartilage and flesh and bone alike, until it comes out at the other end and embeds itself into the wall behind Neko.

The girl stands there for a moment, seemingly uncomprehending, then her legs give out and she falls to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut, dead.

Sakura has a moment of grim satisfaction at the knowledge that she’s a step closer to her goal, then the horror hits.

She staggers over to Neko, ignores the stupefied onlookers because the fight didn’t even last five seconds, and drops to her knees beside the corpse. A necklace catches her eye, ninja wire wrapped meticulously around what looks like a canine tooth, dangling from a leather thread. Sakura grabs Neko’s kunai from her limp hand and carefully cuts the tooth free, stows it in her pocket and gently closes the girl’s eyes before she rises to her feet.

Her head is pounding, bile is rising up her throat, and she feels like she’s a second away from throwing up, disgusted with herself, but she stands before Nezumi until he nods and hands her back her weapons pouch and promptly dismisses her.

Sakura disappears between one breath and the next.

It's Sai who finds her.

Well, not Sai himself, but one of his swallows swoops into the ventilation duct she’s hiding in. Sakura almost throws one of her senbon at the bird, but she supposes she's indulged in her self-disgust long enough.

(has it been minutes? Hours? Days? She doesn’t know.)

Surprisingly, not two minutes after the swallow, Shisui appears at the mouth of the vent. This time, she does throw her senbon, but Shisui just bends out of the way and shuffles closer.

“I feel like asking 'are you alright' is an obsolete question.” He points out, and Sakura doesn’t even have the energy to snort.

“I killed Neko.” She says instead, and even she can hear the absolute lack of inflection in her voice. “I'm on Danzo's guard rotation.”

Shisui seems nonplussed. “I thought we'd established that as one of our goals.”

Anger stirs in Sakura’s gut, and Shisui is too close to her to dodge the senbon this time, but she isn't aiming to hurt. Much. 

“I bartered her life like it was mine to barter!” she snarls, ignores the tears that spill. “And I didn't care because it was just another step in getting from A to B!” 

Shisui sighs, sounding world-weary and a touch exasperated, and Sakura sees red. “Most of the time, I'm immensely grateful that the conditioning doesn't seem to work on you as well as it should. But damn it, Sakura, this isn't the place for scrupules.”

As if it was never there, Sakura’s anger evaporates. He’s right, she realises with a start. She’d sworn to throw away her morals this time around, to discount emotion in her decision-making process. This… this is falling straight back into old habits, and she can’t afford to let herself be weak like that again. She needs to be cold, efficient, needs to do everything in her might to ensure that this reality is better, even if it means cutting away an integral part of herself.

That’s what she came to ROOT for, after all.

"You're right.” She says at last, her voice sounding hollow.

 Sakura falls into herself, drops into her fragmented mind-set and wrenches up the one she'd most viciously repressed, the one that had absorbed almost all the conditioning, that saw Neko's death as a necessary sacrifice and refused to feel remorse.

 When she opens her eyes, she knows what Shisui sees: nothing.

She's as empty of self as Sai had been when she'd first met him, and it feels liberating.

Shisui must realise what she's done because he swears and pulls her into a rough embrace. "This is not what I meant. Fuck, Shin is going to kill me."

Before she has a chance to puzzle out what he means, she feels the tug of side-along shunshin and when she blinks, they're back in their room, Sai and Shin shooting them twin looks of confusion.

But Shin must see the expression on her face and connects the dots, because for the first time she's known him, he looks truly angry.

"God damn it, Shisui, you could've handled that better." He snaps and rises to his feet, pulling Sakura out of Shisui's arms and into his own. He tucks her head under his chin and pulls them both to sit on his bed, all but manhandling her onto his lap.

Shisui hesitates, torn between turning tail and staying, but a glare from Shin keeps him from bolting. With a sigh, the teen settles on Shin's other side and sets to rubbing Sakura's back, and it's more comforting than it has any right to be.

Eventually, in what could’ve been minutes or hours, she forces the cold aloofness back down, keeps the must not hesitate mantra close to the surface but summons back the presence of mind to recognise when the emotional distance is necessary and when she can simply let herself be. She comes back to herself enough to note that Shin winces minutely every time she tightens her arms around his chest. 

She's still not tried out her medical ninjutsu, wary of doing so in ROOT, where her ability would be immediately exploited and might separate her from her boys, but a chakra net is undetectable and not technically iroyu-nin jutsu.

What she finds, however, when she casts it over Shin’s body, makes her freeze.

"Your ribs are cracked." She breathes, horror in her voice, because she knows what causes that particular type of fractures. 

The way Shin tenses beneath her hands tells her all she needs to know. 

"I told you. I'm ill, Sakura-chan." He explains tiredly, but this time, Sakura hears exactly what he’s not saying.

"But I never hear you cough!" it never occurred to her before, but for someone who’d said ‘they think it’s terminal’ about his illness, who Sakura absently remembers having a lung disease from what the Sai from her other life had said, Shin doesn’t have the most important and obvious symptom of lung disease.

"Aniue has a silencing seal around his bed." Sai informs her helpfully, and she feels more than hears the curse Shin breathes into her hair. 

Sakura ignores her horror at that, ignores the little voice that tells her Shin hadn’t realised Sai knew, and concentrates instead, brings the medic she’d supressed to the front of her mind, then says; “What medicine do you take? Because I should’ve heard you cough. We might not go on missions together all that often but we still spend time together. I should have heard you.”

Shin doesn’t move, so Sakura digs her nails into his skin, and he winces at the sting even through the shirt. There’s no getting out of this now. She needs to know.

Grudgingly, Shin manhandles her off of his lap and onto Shisui’s and moves to dig something out from under the bed, coming up with a small metal box and a glass bottle.

He opens the box, and inside Sakura sees something that looks suspiciously like dark molasses. When she leans down to lightly sniff the substance, a heavy, bitter stench fills her nostrils and she flinches back, coughs.

Opium. She realises with no small amount of horror. Raw opium. She chances a glance at the label on the glass bottle and is not particularly surprised when she reads Laudanum.

“You’re an addict.” She breathes, feels more than sees Shin jerk at the term beside her. “You have to be by now.”

“I’m a survivor.” Shin snaps, and Shisui’s arms tighten around her to the point of almost-pain. “And in case you haven’t noticed, our options in terms of health-care are rather limited.”

Sakura’s quiet, horror-struck. Her momentary crisis of faith in their goal caused by her fight with Neko is a distant memory by now, presented as she has been by a boy she’s starting to think of as a brother turning himself into an addict just to survive this hell they’re stuck in.

“We’ll fix this.” She says quietly, her eyes intent on Shin. He meets her gaze and just gives her that tiny, heartbroken smile of his that tells her that he doesn’t believe her, that he’s long given up hope, but Sakura doesn’t care.

She’d surpassed a Sannin in her previous life, both on the battlefield and in the hospital, and she didn’t have half the motivation then as she has now.

She will cure Shin, or die trying.

After that, life returns to what the four of them have gotten used to calling ‘normal’.

Shin is slightly bemused, because Sakura seems to be taking the promise of ‘fixing him’ seriously. In the last six monthly supplies requests that are included in ROOT’s budget, she’d requested progressively more advanced medical texts, shocking Shisui when she healed a burn he sustained after playing around with Katon two months into her self-study.

Sai is also progressing at a mildly alarming rate with his animated creations, his Chōjū Giga unpredictable and so versatile Shin is terrified of the day Danzo discovers just how useful Sai’s art can be.

Shisui is the one that worries him the most, however. His best friend has been absent for almost five weeks, and whenever he’s been in ROOT for the last three months, he looked ragged and weary, weighed down in a way that Shin doesn’t believe was down to simple physical exhaustion.

He even missed Sakura’s eighth birthday.

(Sakura didn’t seem too heartbroken, because Shisui’s gift once he came back was an enormous scroll with a familiar uchiwa fan that Shin didn’t think was anything other than stolen, but Sakura had smiled and Shisui had relaxed, so Shin had kept his silence.)

And now, he watches as Sai spars with Sakura, pure taijutsu and no chakra, when suddenly he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he’s moving, twisting and shifting his weight before the action quite registers, ready to throw whoever it is on the ground. But the person reacts even quicker, twists Shin’s arm behind his back and yanks him into their chest and it’s only then that Shin smells the mix of smoke and ozone that he’s come to associate with Shisui, and he relaxes, if only slightly.

(the main problem is that he hadn’t heard or sensed Shisui at all, and that hasn’t happened for over two years. They’d already joked that they’d put a bell on Shisui’s collar, like the cats Shisui’s told him tend to wander round the Uchiha district, but now Shin thinks that he might actually have to do it because this is ridiculous.)

He huffs a laugh at his thoughts, but his good humour vanishes when Shisui bends down and murmurs “I need to talk to you.” in his ear, and his voice alone is enough to make Shin afraid.

They reappear in their room, and Shin gestures at his bed, quirks a wry smile when Shisui’s expression shifts as he remembers about the silencing seals. They settle down across each other, and Shin prepares to wait patiently until Shisui gets through whatever he has to say.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“The Uchiha are planning a coup d’état.” Shisui announces gravely, his expression grim. “And the Hokage tasked me with stopping it.”

Shin must’ve been quiet for too long, stunned by what his best friend’s just revealed, but still conscious enough to realise that asking ‘you’re kidding, right?’ wouldn’t sit well with the current mood, because Shisui starts talking.

No, not talking. Rambling.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a lot out of nowhere and you have enough to worry about as is, but I don’t know who else to turn to and Sakura said there’s nothing wrong with depending on each other, and–!”

“Shisui.” Shin cuts him off, coming back to himself enough to smile and lay a reassuring hand on the terrified Uchiha’s knee.

(Because that’s what it was, he realises belatedly, and the realisation hits him like a brick – Shisui hasn’t been distant on purpose, no, he’s been terrified.)  

“Tell me everything.” He says simply, and Shisui does.

Shin listens with rapt attention as the teen talks about the Kyuubi attack, the Uchiha Clan’s founder, Madara’s Sharingan’s ability to manipulate the bijuu, the distrust of the Village, the anger of the Clan’s Elders, the fearmongering amidst the Uchiha and finally, Shisui’s own ability.

Kotoamatsukami.

Shin has never been particularly ambitious. But hearing what Shisui says about the technique, a genjutsu of the highest, most terrifying sort, imperceptible and so dangerous and taxing it can only be used once a decade, he can see why Shisui is terrified.

But also –

“You can’t trust them.” Shin orders, and even to his ears he sounds frantic. “Whatever happens, promise me, you won’t trust them completely.”

“I- what?” Shisui asks, and he’s puzzled, but Shin needs this to register.

“What you’re talking about – Kotoamatsukami – do you have any idea what Danzo would do to get his hands on power like that?” he demands, and Shisui blinks.

“But the Sandaime-!”

“The Sandaime is blind.” Shin snaps, because for all that Shisui is unlike the Uchiha, for all that he burns with the Will of Fire and sheer belief that everyone can be saved, that same fire blinds him to what’s directly in front of him.

“Listen to me! You cannot trust Danzo. You cannot let your guard down. And you shouldn’t trust the Sandaime either. The man would sooner cull an entire Clan than risk- oh.” Shin cuts himself off, his eyes wide as he processes what he’s just said.

Oh no.

Because he’s the most affected by the conditioning out of the four of them, he can see exactly what decision seems the most logical once you remove guilt and emotion from the equation.

And that- that would break Shisui.

Luckily, his best friend seems blissfully ignorant to his revelation.

“What do I do, then?” he asks, and it’s not hopeless, not quite yet, but far too close to it for Shin’s tastes.

He lays his other hand on Shisui’s knee as well and leans forward with a smile. “You plan.”

 Shisui is sitting on his bed, elbows resting on his knees and head hanging low, staring at the floor, eyes unseeing, contemplating – not brooding, fuck you Shin, this is serious-! – when Sakura enters.

He doesn’t look up until the girl gets close and drops to her knees in front of him, forcing him to look at her or they’d butt heads.

The expression on her face is… strangely, unfathomably, understanding.

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you.” She says, but it doesn’t sound like a question. If anything, she sounds sad.

“What do you know?” he asks, because he’s been preparing to genjutsu Fugaku into forgetting about the coup for the last week, but he hasn’t told anybody that he’d decided he was going to do it tomorrow, not even Shin. Not even Itachi.

Then again, Sakura has had a knack for knowing things she should’ve had no way of knowing since he met her. From her enormous range of elemental ninjutsu for a civilian orphan, to her ability to identify Shin’s medication at a glance when Shisui himself didn’t even know what his best friend was taking, to little pieces of history she talks about sometimes, most often with Sai, and a quick shared glance with Shin would tell him that he hadn’t been the one to teach her either.

“I know you’re sad.” She says quietly, then adds, “And I know you’re scared. And I know that for all you play a fool, you’re not one. Trust yourself, Shisui-niisan.”

Shisui jerks, both at the words and at the title directed at him, but Sakura’s already rising to her feet, flowing like the water she commands, but her hand falls to rest lightly on Shisui’s head, small fingers gently carding through his hair.

Shisui can’t read the expression on her face, but he still wants to reassure her, to say everything will be alright, even though he himself does not know that for sure.

But most importantly, he wants to know why Sakura looks like she’s never going to see him again.

Less than twenty four hours later, he knows.

He is outside the Uchiha Clan’s grounds, waiting until he feels Fugaku’s distinctive chakra signature head towards the shrine, when he is attacked.

Danzo reveals himself from the shadows, and it is only because he was warned about it, only because both Shin and Sakura looked at him like he was going to his death the day before, only because of two children, that he dares distrust the Elder.

So when Danzo attacks, Shisui doesn’t stop at the genjutsu in his attempt to subdue him, suddenly wary. Danzo’s countering of his genjutsu with the forbidden Izanagi throws him more than he’d care to admit, but not enough to stop the movement of his tanto, Wind-natured chakra giving the blade an edge needed to cut through the Elder’s arm and sever bone and muscle alike.

But Shisui is still too slow, reeling with shock and adrenaline, to ward off the ROOT agents who come at him when their leader staggers, but the pain of having his right eye ripped out proves enough to jar Shisui into action, and he summons his flock to blind his opponents and cover his escape.

Shisui staggers away from the battle, shunshins out of the compound and closer to the Naka Shrine, and he swears when he feels Itachi’s chakra follow him. He has enough time to pen a hasty note and have one of his crows drop it in his room before Itachi reaches him. 

It’s too soon, he realises with a jolt, he’s not ready, he was meant to be there for Itachi, to help him find a way to save their Clan. This, what he's about to do, was only meant to be a worst-case-scenario plan in case Shin's pragmatic pessimism proved true, it was never meant to be Plan A.

But now, with Danzo already in possession of one of his eyes, he doesn’t think he can bring himself to do anything other than what he and Shin had come up with.

His other eye is surrendered voluntarily, the pain almost not registering, and he’s glad that he can’t see the shock and heartbreak on Itachi’s face.

“I’m sorry, cousin.” He says quietly, holds on until Itachi’s crow secures his eye, and lets himself drop over the edge of the cliff, ignorant of the desperate hands that reach for him.

A familiar chakra signature waiting for him at the bottom is his only comfort as he finally loses consciousness.

Chapter Text

“You’re such an idiot!” is the first thing Shisui hears once he regains consciousness, and he blinks, only belatedly realising that he can’t blink the darkness of his vision away because he can’t see anymore. “We said jump not throw yourself down! You could’ve hit your head on a goddamn rock and that would’ve been it!”

“Aniki.” Just one, mild word, but the rustle of fabric and a deep, aggravated breath from Shin as he subsides tell Shisui all he needs to know about the speaker. This wasn’t part of the plan. “You planned for this?”

“Only as a worst-case-scenario.” Shin dismisses, and there are hands under Shisui’s arms now, and he flinches at the touch, unable to predict or prepare himself for the contact. He’s manoeuvred into a sitting position and something soft and heavy is thrown around his shoulders, and it’s only then that he realises he’s shivering.

“But I forgot I was dealing with an Uchiha and therefore what can go wrong, inevitably will.” Shin grumbles, and there’s a soft snort from Sakura, before small hands settle on Shisui's cheeks.

Immediately, warmth begins to course through his body, as sudden and unnatural as a fever, but preferable to the bone-deep cold from the Naka River and his still-wet clothes. It’s only when he feels himself slump that Shisui realises that all his little aches and pains and stiff joints and protesting muscles have been loosened or healed to the point that they don’t register anymore, and his eyes- eye sockets – aren’t burning anymore.

“Did you- heal me?” he asks, stupefied, feeling more than hearing Shin snort.

“Mm.” Sakura hums, then a bundle of heavy, thick material is placed in his arms. “You should change, niisan.”

Shisui rises to his feet, but Shin has to catch his elbow when he staggers, unused as he is to complete lack of vision and completely relaxed, healed muscles.

“C’mon, I’ll help.” Shin offers and leads him away, further than Shisui expects, but it becomes clear why when he doesn’t feel Sakura’s chakra signature follow after them.

“I know bringing her along wasn’t part of the plan.” Shin begins as soon as they come to a stop, pulling Shisui’s shirt over his head. “But the Fire Temple is over two hundred kilometres from here. I managed to put together an emergency pack that should last you about a fortnight – clothes, food, first aid, the lot – but I realised that this might be your last chance to see a medic for a while.”

Shisui feels like he’s outside of his body, listening in like a bystander or an intruder; distant and dazed. “Being blind should give more credibility to my shinobi-turned-monk backstory, hm?” he asks absently, a touch hysterically, and Shin tries for a laugh but it comes out more like a sob.

He feels Shin drop his head on his shoulder and almost manages not to twitch towards his kunai pouch. “This was only meant to be a last-resort.” Shin breathes against his chest, his voice pained, regretful.

Shisui carefully places his hand on his friend’s head and lets himself acknowledge the bitterness that’s roiling within him, the anger, the cries of unfair! Unfair! that he’ll never voice.

“You know how this will end.” He whispers, but it’s not a question. He’d slowly begun to realise, as he was falling to what could’ve, should've been his death, just how far Shin can see, just how much he can extrapolate with only the bare bones of a situation to go on.

“I know nothing.” Shin denies, not moving from his position. “But I have theories.”

Shisui sighs. “I do, too.” Then, feeling the burn of tears, he forces out, “And if the most likely one happens- they’ll ask Itachi to do it, won’t they?”

He feels Shin swallow, but they’ve never lied to each other, so he knows they won’t start now. “Most likely. After you, he’s your Clan’s strongest.”

“But loyal to the Village more than the Clan.” Shisui points out, desperate to ensure they’re on the same page.

“There’s that too, yeah. But the Clan doesn’t know, does it?” Shin acknowledges, and Shisui shudders.

“That’ll be-” he starts, but can’t actually get the words out.

“It will be what it will be, but it won’t be your problem.” Shin cuts him off, and Shisui snorts, knows that, despite the harsh words, his best friend is comforting him. And succeeding.

“Save Izumi.” Shisui says suddenly, an idea striking him with all the subtlety of a thunderclap. “Izumi and the children. They’re innocent, they have no part in this.”

“I’ll try.” Shin concedes, but Shisui is incensed now, burning with fury and desperation, and he grabs his friend by the shoulders and puts them face to face, even though he can’t see.

“Do better.” He demands, and Shin must read something in his expression because he lays his hand over Shisui’s and squeezes.

“I will.”

They stand in silence for a few minutes, soaking in each other’s presence, before Shisui pulls back and raises his hands to his best friend’s face. He knows what Shin looks like, but he tries to marry what he can feel with what he can remember, and Shin lets him.

“Sakura says goodbye, by the way.” Shin murmurs eventually, and Shisui’s fingers falter in their task.

“Are we not going back to her?” He asks, surprised and a touch disappointed. He feels Shin shake his head.

“She doesn’t want to know where you’re going. She says the fewer people that know, the safer you will be.” Shin explains, and Shisui feels a wave of fondness almost bowl him off his feet, but the corners of his eyes sting.

“Goddamn precious, paranoid brat.” He breathes, but it’s more of a sob than a complaint. “Tell her that- in the Uchiha shrine. After everything is- after- when it’s safe, under the floorboard by the door, there’s something I want her to have.”

Shin hums, and Shisui wonders if he’s puzzled by the sudden secrecy, but his best friend just wraps his hands around his wrists and squeezes. “I’ll let her know.”

Another bout of silence falls over them, then Shisui sighs and drops his hands from Shin’s face, dropping the pretence of ‘mapping’ and slumps forward, feeling Shin catch him with a start.

He’s sixteen, a jounin, an ANBU, ex-ROOT, the fastest in his Clan, trusted by the Hokage with the most dangerous and secretive of missions, yet this – leaving his friends behind, leaving Shin – feels like the most difficult decision he’s had to make.

As testament to their friendship, Shin makes it for him. “Go.” He orders quietly, helping Shisui back to his feet. “Before the Clan starts looking for you. You’re slower, remember. It’ll be more difficult to evade pursuit.”

“It won’t come to pursuit.” Shisui mumbles, but the reminder firms his resolve. He takes the backpack Shin presses into his hands and swings it over his shoulders, feels the weight settle at the base of his spine, and hears a rustle of material as Shin throws a travelling cloak over him and tugs the makeshift headband down over his eyes.

It feels definite.

“Travel safe.” Shin wishes him, his voice oddly strained. “I’ll send you some Aburame eyewear when I can.”

“Just make sure they’re monk-appropriate.” Shisui jokes, a last, ditch attempt at his usual humour, then he’s off.

Shin watches him go until he can no longer sense his chakra, then returns to the river bank.

There’s a pile of ashes where Shisui’s wet clothes used to be, and as Shin approaches, Sakura makes the ground underneath the pile disappear, forming a hole whose bottom he cannot see, and a second later, the hole is gone, the ash nowhere to be seen, and the riverbank looks the same as always.

Erasing evidence. Shin realises absently, at once amused and baffled by this slip of a girl who manages to think of everything, even things he wouldn’t.

“You sure you don’t want to know where he’s going?” Shin asks, just to make sure.

“Where who’s going?” Sakura replies right back, deadpan and nonplussed. “Shisui’s dead.”

And Shin – Shin has to admire that self-discipline, even if the look in Sakura’s eyes gives him pause. There’s…nothing there. Just glassy emerald reflecting the turbulent river and a face less expressive than stone.

They stand in silence for a moment, then Sakura sighs. “We should head back.”

They do, and just before they enter one of the hidden passages that leads into ROOT, Shin stops her and relays Shisui’s wish, as well as the location of the ‘gift’. Sakura regards him for a moment then nods, and they descend into the darkness of ROOT hand in hand.

Five days after the Shisui Incident, Sakura is sent on a mission. It’s a basic assassination, in and out, leave-no-trace, but the time alone gives her the necessary space to go over recent events.

Firstly, Shisui is alive. That is a big change from her timeline, and she doesn’t want to attribute it to her presence in this world, but that’s the only independent variable she’s playing with; if not her, then what?

Secondly, Shin seems dead-set on continuing their involvement in the events that she knows will lead to the Uchiha Massacre. He seemed to have taken Shisui’s words as if they had been written in his will, so gung-ho he is about seeing his promise through.

Sakura is… torn.

She’d entertained the possibility of trying to prevent the Massacre, in those first few weeks before she decided to join ROOT, but short of revealing herself as a time-traveller and sharing all the knowledge she has of the future, she could think of few other ways of stopping such a monumental event. She felt guilty, at first, but, ironically, ROOT helped with that – they drove home the lesson that guilt is a useless, unproductive emotion.

But now, Shisui’s wish and Shin’s insistence on seeing it through has offered an alternative path – a way of lessening the destruction that Itachi and Obito are going to wreak.

The only problem is, she knows that she needs Itachi’s participation for it to work.

And that means revealing at least part of her knowledge to a genius, to a man who is going to kill his family in cold blood in the name of his Village, take the blame, singlehandedly ruin Sasuke, ruin one of the most notorious organisations in the Nations, and then be remembered as a hero.

There is no way involving Itachi isn’t going to come back to bite her in the ass.

But she has to.

Sai’s art is evolving to almost on par with what Sakura remembers from her life, and she knows that in a couple of weeks, life-sized boats will not be a problem for the artist. Shin, somehow, has contacts in a lot of the civilian villages in the Land of Fire and has sent out letters to see who would be willing to take in a nameless orphan with only the vaguest promise of financial support.

It therefore falls to her to contact Itachi.

Sakura sighs and removes her senbon from her target’s throat, wiping the needles clean before stowing them back in her pack as she eases the dead noble back to the bed.

Fucking peachy.

Fate, however, seems to smile down at her, because the problem of how to contact Itachi is taken out of her hands – Itachi contacts her first.

Well.

Technically.

A week after she was sent out on her mission, Sakura returns in the early hours of the morning, when the Village is asleep and even Gai isn’t training yet. Taking the opportunity for what it is, she stows her mask away and henges her outfit into the simple white-and-navy of the Uchiha, while her hair and eyes turn onyx. Her chance of discovery is low, but she doesn’t want to tempt fate more than she already is, going into the Naka Shrine by herself, when there’s a Clan full of Uchiha who can find her out.

But she enters without hitch.

She stays in the entryway, the big double doors a few paces in front of her covered with so many seals she doesn’t even know where to start, but she doesn’t need to. Shisui hadn’t said ‘the main hall’, so she kneels, and starts searching.

The fourth floorboard by the door she tries comes away in her hand.

Beneath it, covered in dust and spiderwebs, is a scroll.

It is quite big, off-white, with burgundy ends edged with gold. Sakura takes it out and hesitates – the scroll is old, that much is clear, and undoubtedly valuable.

She unfurls it.

There are two names on the inside of the scroll, one written in beautiful, careful calligraphy, the type that Sakura struggles to read, much less even dream of trying to replicate, and another in a lighter hand, almost cheerful in comparison, with bumpy, uneven characters and enthusiasm that can be felt simply through looking at the writing.

Uchiha Izuna.

Uchiha Kagami.

It doesn’t strike her immediately what she’s looking at, but when it does, she sucks in a sharp breath.

A summoning scroll.

Shisui left her a summoning scroll.

The Uchiha’s summoning scroll.

Her head swims and she has to take a few deep, slow breaths as the weight behind the action registers, then she carefully rolls the scroll back up and shoves it in her pack.

She cannot afford to be caught trespassing, much less caught trespassing and stealing from the Uchiha.

Sakura bids a hasty retreat, circles back through to the forest, to where she knows one of the entries into Danzo’s hideout is, but as she nears, she feels a distantly familiar chakra signature already there.

“You can drop the henge.”

Sakura freezes.

She had meant to find Itachi, to broach the topic of the Massacre with him, to talk about Shisui’s wish.

But not like this.

She emerges into the clearing, and he’s there, dressed in what she’s tempted to call pyjamas, even though his hair is immaculate as always and he has his ninja sandals on.

“Good morning, Uchiha-san.” Sakura offers instead, and keeps the henge.

“Good morning,” Itachi returns, meets her gaze and holds it, then adds, “Tori.”

Sakura sighs and drops the henge.

“What were you doing?” Itachi demands, and his tone makes it clear he does not trust her as far as he could throw her in that moment. “Why were you in the shrine?”

“I wanted to offer my respects.” Sakura says simply, sees the flinch Itachi doesn’t quite manage to smother.

“By trespassing?” he presses, and this time, Sakura offers him a wan smile.

“It’s far from the worst thing I’ve ever done.” She tells him honestly, and it’s true, and they both know it. Sakura changes subjects when Itachi hesitates. “Question is, Uchiha-san, why were you here? It’s barely four in the morning.”

Itachi gives her a look, “I sensed an intruder. It was my duty to investigate.”

“Yours? And not the guards’ at the gate?” Sakura raises an eyebrow.

Now that the panic has receded and she has the opportunity to look closer, Itachi looks wrecked. The stress lines under his eyes are deeper than they were the last time she saw him, his eyes are bloodshot and the bags under them are lilac edging into purple.

She tries her luck.

“It looks to me more like you’re having trouble sleeping, Itachi-san.” She shoots back, but she keeps it as an observation instead of an accusation, and Itachi visibly startles, but whether at the bluntness or the change in address, she can’t be sure. “Have you been eating at all?”

“That is none of your concern.” Itachi replies icily once he collects himself, and his eyes narrow once again.

“No.” Sakura agrees, because it really isn’t, then, “But it would’ve been Shisui’s.”

This time, Itachi doesn’t even attempt to mask the flinch. “I killed him.” he says hoarsely, daring Sakura to protest. “I doubt he would care for my well-being.”

He’s squared his shoulders, and his chakra is a roiling mess beneath his skin, and Sakura has no doubt that if he had his Sharingan active, she would be in trouble.

(the fact that he still hasn’t activated his Sharingan doesn’t strike her as odd until after)

“Itachi-san,” she says softly, stepping forward, watching Itachi’s hand twitch towards his kunai pouch. “I know the truth.”

It’s like watching a balloon deflate.

All the fight evaporates out of Itachi’s posture, but it is quickly replaced with wariness, and the look in his eyes is suspicious and challenging. 

“How?” he demands sharply. 

Sakura smiles and leans closer. “I’m on Danzo’s personal guard rotation.” She admits, and Itachi tenses. She meets his eyes, firms her expression, and adds, “I know everything.”

It might be her words, might be her tone, her expression, or Itachi’s desperation, but a second later, Itachi’s eyes flash red and she’s falling head-first into Tsukuyomi.

For one of the first few times in his life, Itachi panics.

The Tsukuyomi is instinctive, unintentional, but once he’s got the girl in the red-and-black mindscape, he thinks this might be an opportunity.

The girl – Tori – as yet another bewildering fact since he’s first come across her, doesn’t even seem scared of the cross she’s nailed too, and is instead looking around the mindscape with almost scientific curiosity.

“This is… incredibly elaborate.” She murmurs, almost more to herself than to him, then makes a face of confusion. “I did not mean to say that out loud.”

“This illusion traps your mental ‘self’, not your physical.” He answers the unspoken question. “Your thoughts are heard here.”

 “Then I think you should let me down.” She says, or thinks, judging by her part amused, part shocked expression, and Itachi, for lack of a better way to explain it, thinks away the cross and restraints, and the girl drops from the spread-eagled position to stand before him.

They regard each other in silence for a few seconds, then she speaks.

“I know what they asked you to do.” She tells him frankly, and the bluntness shocks Itachi so much he can feel his pulse jump. “And I know you didn’t kill Shisui, Itachi-san.”

His hand is around her throat before he can stop himself, even though this is his mindscape and there are no witnesses. He looks into her eyes, his own brimming with tears, “Say it.”

She doesn’t need more prompting. “They asked you to kill your family.” She wheezes, the words strained due to his hand around her throat but intelligible. He lets go as if burned.

“My Clan.” He corrects, the tears falling freely now. “I have to kill my Clan.”

The girl is silent for a moment, then she steps closer. Itachi is beginning to suspect she wouldn’t know self-preservation if it hit her in the face.

“I cannot even pretend to know what you’re going through.” She says, and Itachi snorts, because that feels like the first honest thing he’s heard from anyone this past week. “But I can help make it less tragic.”

Itachi snaps to attention.

“If you plan it right, nobody will know.” She explains, seeing his wide eyes and clear ‘elaborate now’ expression. “But you might be able to save the innocent.”

“Who?”

“The children, Itachi-san.” She whispers, reaches out to lay a hand on his elbow. “We can save the children.”

For the first time since he learned of the coup, since Shisui’s death, since finding out what his Village needed of him, since being contacted by Madara, Itachi lets himself hope.

(he doesn't realise until later that there had been two crosses in his mindscape)

Sakura falls onto her bunk in ROOT, so wrung out she’s almost tempted to ignore Shin’s questioning stare. She closes her eyes for a moment, ignores the quiet shuffling she can hear, and only forces herself to awareness when she feels another body settle beside her.

Sai offers her a squished-looking box of pocky, and when she takes it with a tired smile, turns around and presses his back to hers, a show of comfort and companionship she didn’t even realise she needed until it was so freely offered.

Shin subsides after a few more seconds, once it becomes clear she’s not going to answer his unspoken question, and Sakura lets herself take the time she needs to process actively changing history.

She’d spent almost six hours with Itachi in the Tsukuyomi, going over the plans and details and logistics and fielding his suspicious, probing questions as to why she was so determined to help every time she tried to move on to the next stage of the plan. She’s exhausted, mentally and physically, and she lets the warmth of Sai’s back against hers lull her into a light sleep.

When she wakes, she has no idea how much time has passed, but she feels human enough to mutter a quiet “Tadaima.”

Sai responds almost immediately, and Sakura’s heart warms when she hears “Okaeri, aneue.”

She reaches over and lightly pets his hair to show her gratitude, then turns to Shin who is looking at her with that same piercing gaze.

“Itachi is on board.” She says simply, and watches the reaction her words provoke.

Shin practically snaps to attention, his expression turning thoughtful, and Sakura knows he has questions, but she also knows that she’s neither in the mood nor in the right state of mind to play twenty questions tonight, so she adds;

“He trapped me in a genjutsu he could access as well and we spent six illusionary hours going over details. He knows everything. And I didn’t have to even suggest Izumi – when I said it might be helpful to have someone older, in case not all children can get adopted, he offered her name all by himself.”

“And he’ll handle it?” Shin asks skeptically, and Sakura smiles wryly.

“That’s what he said. And if not, the Sharingan has coercive abilities.” She sees Shin wince at the reminder, clearly not too happy with the idea and has to stifle a sigh. “It was heavily implied he has some kind of history with the girl. I think he’d rather see her genjutsu’ed into caring for a bunch of little Uchiha than dead by his hand.”

She feels the twitch Sai gives at her back, and she can’t miss the way Shin’s expression twists momentarily. Sakura mentally reviews her words, more than a little baffled, but apart from being a little more callous than she usually tries to be, she can’t find anything wrong with what she said.

If Shin feels differently, he doesn’t voice it, just offers her a nod and a tight smile.

They sit there for a few seconds, all three silent, the weight of what they’re planning hanging over their heads like leaden storm clouds, ready to burst. Then Sakura stands, stretches, and with the crack of her spine, the silence breaks, and they shake the tension off and go back to what they had been doing as she prepares to catch up on the sleep she missed for the journey back.

She is eight and she is twenty six, she is dead and she is alive, she is ruled by her emotions and emotionless at once, but that is not what matters right now.

What matters right now is the fact that she is a step closer to bringing Danzo down, Shisui is alive, her brothers are safe, and Sasuke may end up with more than just the three living, psychopathic relatives he had in her timeline when all is said and done.

What matters is that, for the moment, she is content.

Chapter Text

Sakura falls to her knees with a hiss, blood spilling past her lips and dripping onto the floor, her arm automatically moving to cradle her likely broken ribs, and it is only through sheer force of will that she does not summon medical chakra to heal herself.

(Danzo can’t know. Not yet.)

She looks up, and Nezumi is staring down at her imperiously, bo held at his side almost lazily, looking like he hadn’t just broken her ribs with one deadly swing of his weapon.

“You are Lord Danzo’s guard.” He tells her, and despite the complete lack of inflection, he still manages to sound disapproving. “Yet you are too slow.”

“You said no chakra.” Sakura spits at him, wiping the blood from her chin and forcing herself to her feet. Her lungs scream and breathing burns, but the fact remains that Danzo is watching and she needs to be better.

Nezumi looks unfazed. “You are a fool if you think an opponent would grant you the privilege of a fair fight.” He replies and shifts into an offensive stance. “Again.”

The truth of the matter was that she had miscalculated. Not severely, but enough for it to show. By focusing on her Mokuton, her nature transformations, her shunshin and medical ninjutsu, she had neglected the very first thing the war had made a necessity in her old life: chakra-less combat.

Her current body is too young, too small, too weak to stand a chance in taijutsu matches with adults, and too underdeveloped to risk trying to build musculature.

Her aim with throwing weapons is good, but in the situation she finds herself now, chakra-less and with only her fists and a kunai to defend herself, she is at a disadvantage.

So she rushes Nezumi again, and plays Tsunade’s favourite game of keep-away, doing her best to not let him land any debilitating hits, waiting until he tires or grows frustrated.

But Nezumi is Danzo’s to the core, and he does neither, at least outwardly, but Sakura can feel the amount of chakra in his swings increase the more time passes without him landing the endgame hit.

Then, when the pain in her ribs is dulling every other sense and the inability to draw a deep breath is making black spots dance at the edges of her vision, Sakura stays in one place long enough for Nezumi to raise the bo over his head and bring it down in a punishing strike, and she feels the chakra the weapon is imbued with split the skin on her cheek as she hops back at the last second and watches it bury itself a few inches in the stone floor. Then she’s palming her kunai and darting into Nezumi’s space as he tries to wrench the bo free. She steps close enough to lean up and draw her kunai along his throat lightning-quick, lightly enough to break the skin but not kill or maim.

Then Nezumi recovers and drives his knee into her solar plexus, and she crumples.

“Enough.” Danzo calls and rises to his feet, and Sakura pushes herself to do the same even as she notes that her head is spinning and her eyes refuse to focus. “A satisfactory display to start with.” He assesses, and his sharp eye zeroes in on her. “Both of you will receive ten lashes for hits you took.” Danzo orders coldly, and Sakura grits her teeth, and she feels Nezumi stiffen beside her in shock.

Either Danzo notices it, or he knows his guard, because a cruel expression crosses his face and his eye focuses meaningfully on Nezumi’s throat. “I have no time for useless tools.”

Nezumi twitches as if struck, then bows stiffly and disappears, and Sakura manages to maintain her composure long enough to walk out of the throne room and out of Danzo’s sight, then she lets herself drop to her knees and whimper.

Her hands light green and she carefully sets her ribs and repairs the micro-tears in her lungs, then she flushes a wave of chakra through her whole body and pushes herself to her feet.

Her probationary period is over. She is on Danzo’s guard, and she has his trust.

Finally, finally they can start moving against him.

Despite the fact that her body feels like one giant ache, a smile makes its way onto her face, and she doesn’t try to beat it back.

Two weeks later, all their preparations are in place.

Sakura meets with Itachi to set the exact day for the Massacre, and she feels only a hint of pity for the teen in front of her. It should alarm her, but they are both hollow by now. ROOT conditioning and the last few weeks has taken a toll on them, has made them something not-quite-human. She knows Itachi doesn’t trust her, not fully, but the eight infants and a teenager they’re going to save is reason enough for him to keep his doubts quiet, and Sakura appreciates that.

“Ōkami has found families for six of the children.” She murmurs, meeting Itachi’s narrow eyes with an expression that once would’ve been a smile, but now is just flat. “Izumi will have to take care of the other two.”

“And logistics?” Itachi asks, sharp with fatigue and distrust, and Sakura’s gaze grows colder, the sympathy in her expression melting into a scowl.

“Inu and Ōkami will take care of that. And once they have been homed, not even Ōkami will be able to find them.” She tells the teen, narrowing her eyes. “I have told you this before, Itachi-san. Multiple times.”

Itachi doesn’t seem to appreciate her subtle rebuke, but she is tired.

It’s been two months since Shisui’s ‘death’, a month and a half since she first made contact with Itachi about the Massacre, and a month of ceaseless planning and scheming and organising while trying to avoid being discovered by Danzo and his organisation of trained assassins.

Sakura’s patience and nerves are frayed, and she does not have the time for Itachi’s doubts.

“This is what we are offering: a safe passage for the youngest children, and a chance for a new start. Take it or leave it, Itachi-san, but do not question us in the final stages.” She says coldly, and Itachi sags, if only slightly.

“I’ll take it.” He sighs, then closes his eyes. Sakura would be shocked at such a blatant show of vulnerability, but she knows that Itachi likely doesn’t consider her a threat anymore.

Interesting.

“Two days from now.” He says at last, and his voice is that of a man on his way to the gallows. “At sundown. I will have the children for you at the Shrine.”

Slowly, Sakura nods and gets to her feet. Hesitating, she lays a gentle hand on Itachi’s bowed head, and doesn’t tense when his own snaps out to catch her wrist in a bruising grip.

“Be strong.” She murmurs, pulls her hand from Itachi’s hold and makes her way to the same entryway into ROOT HQ she used last time.

They will change history.

What Sakura does not expect is to be called into Danzo’s throne room forty-eight hours later, nor does she expect to see five other masks she recognises from his guard rotation.

“One of our operatives is on a mission in the Uchiha Compound tonight.” The man begins, his voice gravelly. “Your mission is to turn away or dispatch any ANBU, shinobi, or civilian of the Leaf you see by the compound. We cannot afford for him to be disturbed.”

Shit, shit, shit-! Sakura chants, even as she joins in with the chorus of ‘hai!’ and rises with the others. She panics all the way to the Uchiha Compound, following the leader onto the pagoda roofs by the entry into the Compound, and only calms down when the ROOT group divides, and three agents move to the roof on the other side of the gate.

She feels the cold shiver of battle-calm steel over her nerves and emotions, and she knows what she needs to do.

She has to meet Shin at the Shrine and help him take the children down the waterfall and onto the boats Sai will have waiting for them. Then, she has to make sure Itachi doesn’t get the chance to torture Sasuke and poison his brain with thoughts of revenge, or all of this will have been for naught.

And she cannot be seen.

There is only one solution.

The ROOT agents have to go.

Sakura palms a kunai in her pouch and glances at the setting sun.

As the last rays of golden light disappear over the horizon and the first stifled scream rings through the air, Sakura moves.

Itachi feels his clone disperse and focuses on the memories only enough to ensure the eight infants had been transferred safely, and the genjutsu he placed on Izumi still holds.

His parents’ faces, the grim, resigned, yet nonetheless proud smiles they wore as they knelt before him – he knows they will haunt him for eternity.

But now, he is faced with another problem.

Take care of Sasuke.

How can he, when the boy is screaming, when he sees clearly the tears and suffering he brought his own brother? His own blood? The very one he was trying to save?

“W-why did you do it?” his brother demands through his tears, glaring at Itachi, but still wanting to know his reasoning, still clinging to his ideal of his ‘perfect aniki’.

But Itachi knows, deep in his heart, that his otouto’s beloved aniki is long dead.

The Itachi he sees before him is but a shell.

He’s played a spy for his Clan, a spy for his Village, a spy for Danzo, a spy for Shisui; he’s kept secrets from his Hokage, from his family, from himself – even he does isn’t truly sure where his allegiance lies, but he knows it is neither with Danzo, nor with Madara.

He has the blood of his Clan on his hands. He will never again be able to call Konoha home.

And what does he have to show for it?

His brother’s life, and eight children he’ll never be able to find, and a girl who he once called a friend who will live her whole life under a genjutsu.

He looks at his brother, and he feels hope.

Sasuke can be his salvation.

Itachi lets the emptiness of his soul leak into his voice as he speaks; “To test my capacity.”

Sasuke jerks, looks up at him in shock, eyes wide and glistening with tears, and Itachi sees an opportunity.

If he hates me, if he kills me… I’ll be free, and our family will be avenged.

He feels his eyes bleed into the Mangekyo, feels a trickle down his cheeks that is not tears, and his chakra spikes, but before he can meet his brother’s eyes, Sasuke crumples, and is caught by a form not much taller than him.

Itachi sees red.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hisses, not bothering to pretend to be unbothered by the interruption – they are amongst corpses, and Itachi can no longer sense Madara, though he knows the man is not far.

Right now, he doesn’t care.

Sasuke could’ve been his salvation. His absolution.

And he was denied.

“Preventing you from making a mistake.” The girl replies coldly, and lowers Sasuke to the ground with more gentleness than he would’ve ever expected from a ROOT.

“You crossed a line.” Itachi snaps, and he doesn’t even try to resist the urge to throw a barrage of shuriken at the child.

He is furious.

“You need to leave.” Is the response he gets, far too collected, even as he notes a dark stain on her side and a limp to her movements. “I killed the ROOT on patrol, but the ANBU will be here soon.”

Itachi doesn’t even twitch at the easy admission – his very soul is stained with the blood of at least half his Clan, and he’s sure whatever humanity he might’ve once had has died with his parents.

He spits a curse, viler than anything he’s ever allowed to pass his lips before and he feels hatred he’s only ever felt directed at Danzo and his Clan’s Elders, all for this presumptuous child before him.

But she just stands there, his brother’s unconscious form at her feet, unaffected.

“Go.” She orders again, her tone harder, “And take your partner far away from this Village.”

Itachi wonders, in the deep corner of his mind that isn’t seething with rage and slowly crumbling with grief and guilt, how she knows about Madara, but he doesn’t ask.

Words are beyond him.

With one last look at Sasuke, a missed opportunity, and a sharp glare at the ROOT brat, he disappears.

Sakura waits until she can no longer sense Itachi’s chakra, then she lets the breath she was holding out, and it stutters in her chest, turns into a dry sob.

The air reeks of death and gore and excrement, the stench of blood so pungent Sakura can taste iron at the back of her throat, but they managed to save eight children and a teenager, and Sasuke hopefully won’t be as traumatised as he had been before.

Sakura takes a moment to compose herself, steels her nerves, and takes out a sealing scroll she brought. This will perhaps be even less honourable than killing her comrades had been, but better she do it, than let it fall into the hands of Obito or Danzo.

With a resigned sigh, Sakura sets off – she has entire libraries to loot, and a District to burn.

Hiruzen looks out the window in his office with a sigh. His heart aches at having had to destroy an entire Clan, alienate one of the Village’s brightest, and condemn young Sasuke to the life of an orphan, but the Village comes first.

His sigh catches in his throat when flames engulf the furthermost part of the Uchiha District, spreading with the speed and all-consuming hunger that only chakra-fuelled fire usually manages.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

With a wave of his hand, half the ANBU team watching his every move drops to kneel on the floor, waiting on orders.

“There is a fire in the Uchiha District. Go investigate.” He orders and turns away from the window, settling at his desk.

His fingers trace over the compartment in the desk which hides the most damning, damaging reports, but he will have to wait until his clone is in his Compound and the ANBU guard halves before he can come back, sign off on the document and count Itachi’s mission a success.

(With great responsibility come great sacrifices, and since beginning his second term as Hokage, Hiruzen is slowly running out of pawns to sacrifice.)

“Danzo-sama.” Sakura kneels, head down, and awaits her fate.

“Report.” Comes the cold order, and Sakura doesn’t hesitate to deliver the speech she’d rehearsed while she was looting and burning all that was left of the Uchiha legacy.

“The Uchiha agent realised he was being watched. He attacked the surveillance team after he fulfilled his mission. There were five casualties.”

“But you survived?” Danzo demands, and it wasn’t scepticism in his tone, not quite, but Sakura was still wary.

“He sustained injuries fighting the team.” She replies, and her hesitation isn’t fully staged before she adds, “And I beat him once before.”

Danzo hums. “But the mission was a success?”

“Hai, Danzo-sama.”

He eyes her for a moment longer, and Sakura isn’t sure what she should be seeing in his gaze, but all she can spot is a grim, vicious satisfaction.

“Dismissed.”

Sakura rises, bows, and shunshins out of the throne room before she can do something stupid like woop in joy.

They made it.

Two days later, Shin and Sai return to ROOT HQ, both looking worn to the bone but with the hard slant of success to their shoulders.

“Any problems?” Sakura asks, almost not wanting to know, but Shin just shakes his head.

“None. If my contacts uphold their end of the deal, those kids will grow up safe, away from shinobi and anyone who may recognise them.” Shin reports and collapses onto his bunk, peeling away his armour and toeing off his boots. “And on your end?”

“Parted on less than favourable terms with Itachi, but half the Compound is ash and dust, and I have all their jutsu scrolls and history books in my possession.”

 Sai settles beside her, and his eyes as he looks at her seem to see right through her walls and facades.

“Yet you don’t seem satisfied. Why?” he asks, and Sakura sighs, reaching out an looping an arm around Sai’s neck and pulling him into a half-hug.

“Don’t you understand? This is where the truly difficult part begins. We have all the knowledge we need to bring Danzo down. What we need now is the physical evidence.” She explains, and tries very hard not to let the despair weighing her down seep into her voice.

She fails.

With an exhausted sigh, Shin hauls himself into a sitting position and levels her with a flat, serious look.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asks simply, and Sakura almost pulls a muscle with how vehemently she shakes her head. “Then the rest is irrelevant. We knew, all those years ago, that we were pitting ourselves against a man who has survived more than most shinobi could dream of. That hasn’t changed. We, however, have. Sakura, you’re on his guard rotation. Sai could be too, if we decide to show Danzo even half of what he’s capable of now. With you two on the inside, gathering the evidence will be easy. But there is one more place we need to get into, and that will require the ultimate commitment.”

Sakura’s eyes widened.

“Surely you don’t mean-?!”

But Shin just nods, a sad, resigned smile playing on his lips.

“One of us still needs to get into ANBU, and onto the Hokage’s guard rotation. And for that, we’ll have to be sealed.”

Chapter Text

"You can't!" Aneue snaps, for the twentieth time in the week since aniki had first raised the looming issue of getting sealed. 

"You're the brain behind this whole plan, you can't be compromised! I'll go!" 

"Compromised?" Shin echoes, and Sai doesn't bother masking his wince at the tone.

It's not like either of his siblings is paying attention to him, too absorbed in their nth repeat performance of the same argument. Plus, Sai likes emoting, especially since aneue smiles encouragingly at him whenever she catches him doing it, and he enjoys the burst of warmth seeing that tiny upwards tick of her lip brings him.

"Don't pretend like getting sealed would compromise me. If anything, if I truly am as important as you claim, then ensuring that I'm unable to babble is in our best interests!" Shin defends, sharp and biting and as cold as the steel of his hair. 

Aneue makes a wordless sound of frustration, running a hand through her short hair to mask the aborted twitch it'd made towards the senbon holster on her thigh. 

Shisui's absence is all too noticeable in these moments.

Sai had once thought that aniki was the bottle that contained the hurricane of ambition and genius that was the Uchiha, two uniquely different beings coming together to form an imposing, but controlled and complimentary whole. 

Now, he’s had to revaluate. Aniki is still the bottle, but he's jagged. Broken. Without Shisui there to give him shape and purpose, he's all sharp edges and shattered hearts.

And aneue, who fights with scalpel-like precision and lords over her emotions with an iron fist and a surgeon's control, takes to interpersonal relationships with all the grace and subtlety of a sledgehammer, shattering aniki's already jagged edges into fine sand. There's friction between the two, born of both being cut from the same cloth - self-sacrificial and headstrong to the point of suicide.

It's...not pleasant to be caught in the middle, because neither of them is right. Neither of them is wrong. 

But both are stupid. 

"You're not getting it!" Aneue seethes, pinning Shin with a look that would make a kunai look dull in comparison. "This whole thing, this plan, is nothing more than an elaborate chess match where it's us against Danzo. You're the queen, Shin. Playing Queen Sacrifice against a man who plays as the king will lose us the game!"

Sai sighs, not bothering to mask this either. 

Chess metaphors. How tedious. 

His siblings had provided a united front on only one matter since the issue was raised: on the second day of the feud, Sai absently proposed that he would take the spot on the Hokage's guard. 

His quiet interjection brought the slowly-escalating argument to a complete stop for all of three seconds, when both aniki and aneue looked away from each other long enough to shoot him a sharp glare and snarl a vicious 'No!' before going back to their argument.

He'd felt touched, then, in an odd way, because aniki's protectiveness had been immediate and constant since they met; a dogma in Sai's life that he never bothered to question, because it would be the same as asking 'is water wet?'. 

Aneue though – Sai knows, logically, that aneue is most likely younger than him, biologically. He doesn't know his own birthdate and ROOT didn't care enough to find it out, but he knows that he was born in the fall and he'd just turned five when ROOT took him. Aneue wasn't much older than him when she came, and she's been in ROOT for three years. Sai for five. He knows, because aniki etches little notches in the wall for every month they've been here. 

There are 63 notches. 

But. But. He brings his brain back on track, his hand moving mechanically over the paper, his ears no longer engaging enough to register the words exchanged between his siblings. He lets the sound of their conversation wash over him in a gentle wave, comforting yet unimportant, and focuses on his thoughts on aneue. 

She's younger than him, yes, of that he's almost certain. But every time she looks at him, touches him, smiles at him – it took Sai a long time to find the right word, but he thinks he's got it now – it feels maternal. Sai doesn't remember his mother, but he thinks of the fiction books aniki used to smuggle him from his missions, or the whispered stories in the orphanage from before, and the more he thinks, the more aneue and maternal go together. 

She's cold and sharp and vicious and deadly and young, and she never asks for things, not outright, but Sai thinks of her small frame and deceptively strong arms and tired eyes and thinks: safety.

It's why he doesn't hesitate. 

He spent a week listening to his siblings' arguments, rationalised and reached one, inevitable conclusion: neither of them would be the same, after the sealing. 

Aniki is too hard, too affected by the conditioning, though he hides it well, too scared of his illness, too distant, now that Shisui isn't here to humanise him.

And aneue is too brittle. Soft, for all that she hides it, more human than even Shisui had been, and though she's on Danzo's guard and embroiled in the conditioning and this plan with them, she remembers before with a clarity Sai knows even aniki had long lost. 

If aniki gets sealed, the last of his humanity - his ability to express himself, to scheme and plan and play chess without anyone ever knowing he's playing – will be lost. 

If aneue gets sealed, her last tenuous link to her humanity will shatter. 

In the end, it's almost anticlimactic.

Sai uses his Shisui-taught speed, Shin-taught accuracy and Sakura-taught anatomy knowledge and strikes.

From his vantage point on the top bunk, he knows that neither of them is looking remotely in his direction, too absorbed in each other. He grabs his mission pack and seals it away, secures the scroll to his hip and does a final check of his kit. Then, he takes a deep, fortifying breath, and doesn't let himself hesitate. 

He shunshins to Sakura's side of the bottom bunk, pinches the back of her neck and catches her head before it smacks the wall, lowering it gently onto the pillow instead. 

Then, he turns to Shin, who looks a step away from an asthma attack. Wide grey eyes track his move, pupils blown from his medicine, lips opening to ask, accuse, curse – Sai doesn't know. What he knows is that he has to move, so he feints a strike to the solar plexus, and when Shin twists, he flashes again, behind him, and chops that same nerve, catching the back of aniki's shirt and lowering him gently onto the bed.

In a matter of seconds, it is done.

Sai spares a second to hope, briefly, childishly, that when he inevitably falls himself from the pressure, his siblings will take the same care to catch him as he just did them.

He heads for the door and intentionally doesn’t look back when he closes it behind him.

Sai returns two weeks later.

Sakura breathes a sigh of relief that turns into a sob. She's by his side in an instant, pulling him further into the room, shutting the door and pulling his head into her shoulder in a matter of milliseconds.

The few hours after they'd woken up, her and Shin had sat in silence, almost shell-shocked, trying desperately to wrap their heads around what had transpired.

"I'm sorry." Sakura had managed eventually, staring ahead, eyes unseeing as she realised that her selfishness had led to the very thing she'd vowed to avoid. Because there was only really one reason for Sai to have knocked then both out – non-lethally – and disappeared for a fortnight with his mission pack.

"I never even thought he'd do it." Shin had confessed, his voice equally hollow, sounding world-weary and resigned. "For the supposed chess master, that move never even crossed my mind."

"We made a mistake." Sakura admitted, angry when the tears she wanted to shed refused to come. "But it was his decision. We have to respect it."

Shin hadn't even twitched at her bland tone.

"The more I think about it, the more it has the potential to be a good, strategic move." He'd breathed, exhausted and frustrated, and Sakura's mind had drawn an unconscious comparison to Shikamaru in that moment. A quiet boy with a mind that never slowed down, planning ten moves ahead before their opponent even makes their first one.

"But I just-!" He'd cut himself off, voice agonised and dripping with regret, and Sakura knew.

"-didn't want it to be Sai. I know. I feel the same."

(the aftertaste of failure is bitter on her tongue, sharp and pungent and reminding her with every breath she takes and every nervous swallow that she wasn’t good enough, that Sai will end up with the seal one way or another, that all her years of future knowledge still failed her in the simple task of making one boy’s life a little easier)

But Shin had to have read something in her tone, because he’d shifted, breaking the illusion of having become a tortured statue as he came to kneel before Sakura's curled up position on the bed, resting his hands carefully on her knees as he looked up at her.

"I didn't want it to be either of you. You're not expendable, Sakura."

Sakura had raised her eyes to meet his, a wry smile on her face. They'd argued for over a week, growing sharper and more vicious with every new point raised, and yet she had never felt like crying, not until right then, when all Shin was looking at her with was love and regret.

"I love you both. Equally. Don't forget that."

She wouldn’t.

Which is why, when she has Sai in her arms, safe and in one piece and back with them, it's the most natural thing to shift slightly to the left so Shin can squeeze in beside her and rest his chin on Sai's head.

Under her hands, she feels tension she didn't notice earlier melt away, and Sai sags against them, subsiding with an exhausted sigh.

"Tadaima, aneue, aniki." He greets quietly, and Sakura doesn't bother stifling the second sob that escapes her.

"Okaeri, otouto." Her and Shin reply in sync, shooting each other amused smiles.

If their eyes are a little red-rimmed and their voices hoarse, none of them comment.

In the few days they take to get their bearings back, Sakura snags a solo mission – a simple bounty hunt – and earns an approving look from Danzo when she explains it as ‘keeping her skills sharp and bringing in extra revenue’. The mission serves another purpose, as well.

It gets her out of the Village for the first time in months, out from under Danzo’s thumb, and Sakura finally has the time to properly dedicate herself to the summoning scroll Shisui had left her all those months ago.

The actual hunt, once she’s in Hidden Valleys, takes her less than a day – a B-Ranked missing-nin, for all that he’s ex-Kiri, is still B-Ranked, and she was an A-Ranked jounin who’d surpassed a Sannin, once, not that long ago. She seals his body in a hunter-nin scroll and travels to Rain to collect her bounty, and then, taking a detour through Grass on her way back to the Land of Fire, she stops in Tanzaku-gai where she finally allows herself to rest.

She stays at an onsen and allows herself to luxuriate in the hot-springs under henge, enjoys a massage and proper dry-cleaning of her kimono top, and then she packs up, heads out of the town proper and sets up camp; the area around her hammock sealed and booby-trapped. Then, and only then does she allow herself to take out Shisui’s gift and think.

There’s nothing on the scroll that lets her know what animal it contracts with, and the names mean little to her, but the penmanship alone clues her in to the fact that both the scroll’s previous owners were far before her time.

Well.

There’s not much else to do but sign, in that case, so Sakura takes a deep breath and nicks the tip of her index finger with her senbon and traces her name on the summoning scroll in careful strokes.

When she finishes the last character, an odd feeling travels up her back and crests at the crown of her head, sending a shiver down her spine, but she ignores the warning signs and flashes through the signs which were once second nature – Boar-Dog-Bear-Monkey-Ram-!

“Kuchiyose no jutsu!”

The chakra drain makes her let out a gasp which quickly morphs into a muffled shriek, because when the smoke clears, a snow-white tiger easily as wide as Chouza across the shoulders and twice as tall is staring down at her, one eye crystal blue of the coldest ice, and the other a startling yellow.

“You are not an Uchiha.” It rumbles, voice a deep, reverberating tenor, and Sakura has no doubt that the creature before her is ancient. “How did you come upon this contract?”

Sakura gulps, absently, morbidly amused by the fact that, if she misspeaks, the tiger could probably swallow her whole.

“An Uchiha entrusted it to me.” She manages, forcing herself to meet the summon’s eyes. “My nii-sama.” She admits, the title slipping out unconsciously.

“Hn.” The tiger hums, considering her, and Sakura almost laughs hysterically at the Uchiha-ism. “You speak the truth.” He summarises at last, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

The tiger shifts, and Sakura twists out of the rather undignified position she’d assumed after her mad scramble backwards and into a ready-crouch, and if she reads the expression correctly, the move amuses the summon.

Which, fair enough, she reasons, aware that she probably couldn’t kill it outright without bringing out her heaviest hitters.

“At ease, cub.” The tiger instructs, lowering itself down so its stomach is on the ground, paws are crossed, and its head only about a metre above Sakura’s own. “Although it’s been a while since I’ve last seen a two-spirit, there is no deception about you. You have been tried and found worthy.”

Sakura blinks.

“But- I haven’t done anything.” She denies, easing from her crouch to standing, frowning at the summon, who has the gall to look intrigued.

“Did your nii-sama not explain the terms of the contract?”  it asks, voice echoing even in the clearing they find themselves in. “I am Boshi, of the Great Tigers, gatekeeper of the contract. One eye measures your soul,” the blue eye blazes bright, the same colour as pure, concentrated chakra, “the other, your heart.”

Her breath catches in her throat as the other eye burns a phosphorous, luminescent yellow for a split-second, then fades back to the earlier sunflower tones.

“And what would have happened,” she asks hesitantly, curious despite herself, “if I hadn’t been found worthy?”

“Death is the price of deceit.” Boshi snarls, spittle flying, and Sakura’s heart kicks into overdrive while her chakra lashes out in her fear, latching onto the natural energy around them almost gleefully after years surrounded by thick concrete.  

In seconds, flowers bloom, seedlings sprout, the branches from the surrounding trees reach out and twist around her and the summon like a mockery of an embrace, and the tiger turns wide, mismatched eyes to her and looks delighted.

“I have not seen power like that since Hashirama.” It tells her, visibly thrilled, though when the branches reach out and try to curl around him too, like they are currently twining up Sakura’s legs and through her hair, they can’t. “A Senju with the Uchiha’s sacred contract. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Sakura pauses in her task of reigning her chakra back and yanking at the vines that tightened too much around her ankles to shoot the tiger a disbelieving look.

“You’re mistaken.” She informs him sharply, the words ripped out of her against her will, because her self-preservation might be poor but it’s still there, somewhere, and going against an ancient creature that speaks of the God of Shinobi like he was but another man is not something she should be doing. “I am no Senju. All I have is good chakra control. That’s all I’ve ever had.”

That, too, is far too honest and bitter, something Sakura had rarely allowed herself to think much less say out loud, and she narrows her eyes at the summon, her mind running through their conversation, compiling the facts and jumping to the most likely conclusion.

“I cannot lie.” She accuses the tiger, untangling the last of the vines and shifting her stance back to a ready position.

“I see your mind and soul, child. You cannot hide from me, not behind illusion, shapeshifting, subterfuge, or any masks you may choose to don.” Boshi retorts, and for the first time, power and a hint of threat threads through the tiger’s voice. “And just ‘chakra control’ wouldn’t have bent the laws of nature and sent your soul through space and time. You have power, and a destiny. Stop denying it.”

Sakura’s hackles rise and she snarls, not caring anymore about whether or not the tiger will eat her for her cheek.

“I do not believe in destiny.” She hisses at the summon. “I don’t know what brought me here or how I’m alive, but I killed myself and didn’t even have the spine to do it by my own hand. I’m pretty sure that cancels out any good karma I might’ve amassed, and it definitely doesn’t  qualify me for some higher purpose.” She spits the last words, daring the tiger to disagree, challenging the summon with every atom of her being.

“Whether you believe in destiny or not is irrelevant.” Boshi tells her sagely and Sakura hisses in frustration at the tiger’s bullheadedness. It’s like listening to Neji before Naruto beat the snot out of him, and Sakura is suddenly not at all surprised that the summoning contract had belonged to Uchiha of old. Boshi fits what she knows of their Clan to a T. “Your fate will find you and do with you as she pleases, and you’ll be a fool to resist.”

Sakura bites back a curse, but she’s not quick enough to stop her instinctive reaction to the words. The vines she’d ripped away earlier start to reach out again, reacting to her emotions with glee, her chakra roiling under her skin like a snake ready to strike and she hasn’t felt emotions so potent in years.

“No.” she snarls. “I am the master of my fate and I am the captain of my soul and I have chosen my path and I will walk it, through hell and high-water, and you can either help me or get out of my way.”

Silence greets her words.

When she opens her eyes, she realises that the clearing around them wouldn’t have looked out of place in the middle of spring, but for late autumn, it definitely creates a jarring contrast to the rest of the forest.

The infuriating tiger crouched before her, however, looks deeply satisfied and more than a little smug.

“You may not be an Uchiha, but their stubbornness runs through your blood. You are definitely worthy of the contract, and I look forward to witnessing what path you forge for yourself, cub.” Boshi declares, all the earlier fight gone out of him, and Sakura is almost tempted to say that he smiles, but she’s too flabbergasted by the sudden 180 in tone to be completely certain it’s not just a trick of light.

“I- what?” she manages at last, blinking rapidly. “Stubbornness? So- the destiny talk- that was, what, a test?” she asks, slightly miffed.

Boshi laughs. “We tigers are allied with the Uchiha because we respect their absolute refusal to change their path once it’s been decided. But we also balance them out, because–!”

“Inflexible metal will break.” Sakura murmurs, the words once again ripped out of her, but she doesn’t mind so much this time, well-aware of what the downside to the distinctive Uchiha tunnel-vision is.

Her summon nods, and that is definitely satisfaction gleaming in those eerie, mismatched eyes.

“Precisely.”

Sakura turns an assessing eye to the tiger, finally able to look past the terror and his sheer size that had so thrown her earlier, her mind replaying ‘I see your mind and soul’.

“Then tell me, Boshi-sama,” she hedges, tagging on the suffix and catching the glint of pleasure in the summon’s expression, “what you and your ilk have to offer me.”

Her question earns her a rumbling laugh that shakes the ground around them not unlike a clap of thunder.

“In your life, I will help you divine the intentions of those around you, and any those who would wish you ill or try to deceive you.” He tells her with a show of sharp teeth. “And in battle, you will fear no genjutsu with me by your side.”

Sakura’s eyes widen and her mind jumps into gear, running through dozens of scenarios and weighing the usefulness of having a literal lie-detector and the equivalent of a Sharingan as a defence against illusion.

She grins.

“I think,” she hazards, meeting the mismatched gaze of her summon with an expression that lets him know exactly what she’s capable of, “that we’ll get along swimmingly, Boshi-sama.”

Another laugh, softer this time, and before she has a chance to react, there’s a warm, wet, rough tongue sweeping up her cheek and into her hair, and she squawks, but the tiger is already pulling away, disappearing in a cloud of smoke with a final, amused;

“Summon me again soon, cub.”

In a matter of seconds, she’s left alone in the overgrown clearing, three-quarters of her reserves gone and tiger saliva drying slowly on her cheek.

Despite everything, Sakura’s blood sings.

She feels alive. 

A week after she returns to base, they're finally settled enough to go back to planning their next steps.

Sai is gone for entire days, sometimes nights too, the guard rotation flexible, but Danzo's will unforgiving.

Sakura keeps much the same schedule, only not in the warm, sunny office of Hokage, but the dark, dreary maze of stone that passes for Danzo's kingdom. They are both under constant scrutiny, aware that a single misstep could be fatal, and ironically, Shin is the one with the most freedom left from the three of them.

It's that point he raises when they finally put their heads together in the relative safety of their dorm room.

"We need funds." Shin announces simply, pulling out a coded notebook only he and Shisui knew the key to. "We keep pretending that we'll get all our evidence on Danzo," he nods to Sakura, "and choose a moment to strike when the Sandaime will have to be receptive," he smiles at Sai, "and it will be perfect and smooth sailing."

Sakura frowns, because nothing about this mad scheme of theirs was ever going to be smooth-sailing, but Shin doesn't look like he's done, so she keeps her mouth shut and rests her head on Sai's shoulder instead, her muscles pleasantly sore from their recent spar and the whip wounds on her back almost fully healed.

"But, realistically, even if we succeed, we'll be a thorn in the Sandaime's side, a security risk because we know too much."

Which…stings, because uncovering treason shouldn’t be a double-edged sword, but Sakura knows Shin’s right, though-!

"There isn't much we can do against that, at this point." She sighs, wry and more than a little bitter.

“Maybe not.” Shin agrees, forever rational. “But while information makes the world go round, money is the language everyone speaks, and we'll need it, whether we're well received or not."

Sakura frowns, an expression she feels more than sees is mirrored by Sai.

"Aniki?" he asks, and though the shift in tone is minimal, it’s still there, and it’s enough for Sakura to hear confusion clearly, and a Sai that emotes despite the seal on his tongue will forever be something she’ll be grateful for.

Instead of replying verbally though, Shin pulls out a blood-splattered, clearly stolen Bingo Book, flicking it open to a random page.

"I'm the only one that's able to move with relative freedom and who will get missions outside the Village with any regularity.” He tells them flatly, eyes trained on the photo of some B-Ranked Iwa kunoichi. “Not to mention that my fighting style is the best designed for this, out of all of ours."

"You want to start collecting bounties." Sai states tonelessly, the earlier confusion giving way to contemplation.

"There's freedom of movement and then there's tempting fate." Sakura points out, but she knows with avid certainty that Shin's announcement is more of a courtesy notice than a point up for debate.

Shin smiles, sardonic and self-deprecating.

"Every breath I take is tempting fate." He replies wryly. "At least this way, I can be productive."

Sakura weighs their options in her mind and she sees the logic of what Shin is suggesting, but the sheer forward-thinking needed to see past the ever-elusive goal of 'eliminate Danzo' to 'what happens once we've succeeded and how to get there' astounds her still, and the earlier comparison to Shikamaru returns.

Shin sighs again, as if weary at the prospect of having to explain himself.

"We're doing this so we have a chance at a future. So that Sai has a childhood. So that I don't have to play roulette with what will kill me first – the disease or the opioid addiction."

The frank admission is enough to jar Sakura to attention, drawing her eyes to the liquid silver of her brother. Shin smiles, the expression devoid of humour.

"What's the point of planning for a future in Konoha if we end up without a yen to our name and a kage who doesn't want anything to do with us?"

It’s a valid point, and definitely something to consider, but Sakura still snorts.

"That's the most convoluted way to argue for financial independence that I've ever heard." she announces when Shin's declaration has had a few seconds to settle, drawing a quiet breath of a laugh from Sai.

Shin also quirks a smile, though he arches an eyebrow at her. "You're surprisingly amenable." He notes, and his tone makes it clear that that's the last adjective he expected to use.

Sakura shrugs, lifting her head from Sai's shoulder to shoot Shin a small grin.

"I happen to agree with you. We will need financial independence once we get out, whether the Hokage wants our services or not. It just didn't even register on my radar what with the dozen other, potentially life-threatening, straight up insane things on our plate."

Shin laughs, sharp and surprised and clearly startled, and inclines his head in acknowledgement of her words.

And with that, the final stage is in motion.

 A month later, Sakura has met most of her smaller summons, introduced them all to Shin and Sai and snagged one more solo mission outside the Village to familiarise her summons with her fighting style.

Though that is the extent of good news, for the stress of what they’ve committed themselves to finally begins to dog not just their waking moments, but their sleep too, and things begin to pull apart at the seams.

Three months after that, Sakura is finally able to appreciate the value of ROOT’s  conditioning programme – with the explosive mix of stress, the constant lack of sleep, inadequate nutrition and her reincarnation secret, she constantly feels like she’s walking on eggshells whenever she’s forced to leave their room, and with Sai on the Hokage guard and Shin always planning their next move, even that has stopped feeling like a sanctuary.

For the first time in three years, being able to slip into the shell of the unfeeling ROOT agent Danzo had so cleverly engineered starts to become a relief, and it is only when she starts to have trouble slipping back out that a part of her panics.

But even then, it’s distant, half-hearted at best; the reason why she should care eludes her, and emotion has become unavailable to her some time back.

(the fact she can’t pinpoint the exact moment should worry her. it doesn’t.)

Six months after Sai joins the Hokage guard rotation, Shin confronts her about it.

Or, more accurately, ambushes her as she walks into their room and smashes her head against the wall.

Hard.

“What the fuck?!” the eighteen-year-old, war-veteran part of her psyche takes the reins and snarls, rounding on Shin, bleeding vengeance, while the nine-year-old in her is preoccupied with blinking back the tears that have sprung to her eyes and biting down on her wobbling lip. “What the hell did you do that for?!”

“Cognitive recalibration.” Shin replies, almost sunnily, absently tracking the green-lit hand she brings up to heal the bump on her head and check for any subdermal damage.

Sakura blinks.

“Why?”

Now that the pain and the shock have subsided, the disparate parts of her psyche fuse back together, and Sakura feels the most like herself than she has in weeks.

“You were getting too reliant on the conditioning.” Shin informs her sharply, his expression morphing from sunny to disapproving in seconds. “It’s easy, to not have to feel, but that is exactly why you have to fight it. Why you have fought it before.”

Sakura sighs and collapses on her bed, able to think clearly for the first time in a while.

“I barely noticed.” She confesses after a quick check that Sai isn’t in his bunk, and lies down, careful of her still-tender head.

“I know.” Shin says simply.

“How’s Sai doing? I don’t think I’ve asked him in…too long.” She asks eventually, craning her head on her pillow to look at Shin who’s now settled on his own bunk and set to polishing his katana.

“Better than you, that’s for sure.” Shin offers, then closes his eyes. “If there’s one thing we did well in, it was preventing the conditioning from taking root in his mind. So he knows how to act and how to pretend, but he’s still himself.”

“That’s…the first good news I’ve heard in a while.” Sakura admits, lets herself melt into the mattress with another deep sigh. “I think…I think we might be able to move, and soon.”

Because the things she’s seen while standing guard at Danzo’s elbow make her head spin when she thinks of them. Reports, sit-reps, mission logs, casualty logs, correspondence with foreign leaders and villains – all enough to convict a man even of Danzo’s calibre three times over, and that’s without even touching the mess of the Uchiha Massacre.

“I think so too.” Shin murmurs, then sets his katana aside and rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward on the bed. “What was the team Sai wants in the office when we break the news?”

“Team Ro.” Sakura replies, having been aware enough to listen to the justification when Sai had given it, even though the conversation feels like she’s recalling it from behind a veil. “They have an ex-ROOT Mokuton user. And Hatake knows of ROOT’s existence. More difficult for Sarutobi to sweep it under the rug if there’re witnesses who’ll know what we speak of.”

And isn’t that a mindfuck and a half, now that she’s thinking of it.

Kakashi in her first life had been an enigma, until the end. Elusive and untouchable in her genin and chunin days, then present but indomitable during the War, untouchable in the way of the heroes of old. Now, she’s going to be relying on him for getting them out of here. Using him, really, as leverage against Sarutobi’s sentiment for his old teammate.

“Then we better iron everything out.” Shin announces, getting to his feet and throwing a blanket on the floor.

Outwardly, Sakura agrees, and waits as he goes to fetch Sai.

Inwardly, with the blessing of her tigers, she hatches her own plan. 

(“Kyoko-chan,” Sakura asks her smallest, most unobtrusive summon, a cub that could almost pass for a house-cat if not for the distinctive colouring, “where do the tigers stand in the hierarchy with the other summons?”

“We’re a noble summons, Sakura-sama, and one of the last surviving ones. Few would question us.”

“What about, say…the monkeys, or the snakes, specifically?”

Kyoko pauses in her grooming long enough to level Sakura with an oddly penetrating look, at odds with the youth of her stature.

“While Manda may not respect our seniority, Aoda is far more amenable. And Enma is a child, as far as summons go, barely older than his master. What are you angling at, Sakura-sama?”

“I suppose what I want to know is… is there a way to make other summons just…forfeit? If someone like Enma had to fight Boshi-sama, for example?”

Kyoko laughs, though it sounds more like she’s hacking up another furball on Sakura’s bed.

“Enma would run at the sheer notion of the Tiger Summons having a new summoner.”

Sakura smiles.

“What about at my sight?”

Kyoko’s eyes gleam with understanding, and the plan solidifies.)

Kakashi stands in the Sandaime's office, the ANBU mask over his face narrowing his view only to the desk and Sarutobi behind it, aware of Tenzo by his side more by the man's chakra than because he can see him.

He thinks he catches movement by the open window, something small and white disappearing over the frame, but he dismisses it as fatigue. Maybe a fair dose of paranoia too.

(It wouldn’t be the first time.)

He stifles a sigh as Tenzo rattles off another toneless recounting of yet another mission assigned to Team Ro, not even following the words anymore.

What does it matter anyway? It's always a variation of 'mission successful', 'objective fulfilled', 'injuries sustained', or, occasionally, an explanation of encountered complications they had to overcome.

Bland. Boring. Monotone. The only spice to his life is whether the mission is A or S-Ranked, and, on particularly interesting days, whether it'll go on his record at all or whether Konoha will bury any trace of it, and his team along with it, should they fail.

He's twenty-three years old, in his prime, both as a shinobi and as a man, only his apartment is gathering dust and he can't remember.

Can't remember how long it's been since he's last been in the Village for longer than a few days at a time. Can't remember the name of his next-door neighbour. Can't remember when he last ate something that wasn't rations or reheated in the ANBU HQ microwave. When the last time he wore something that wasn't his uniform, be that ANBU or jounin was. When he last went out for a drink with friends – or acquaintances, really. Teammates. Barely that, sometimes.

Yet he knows precisely how long it’s been since he lost everything. Again.

Three thousand, two hundred and ninety-seven days since the Kyuubi attacked. The Village mourned the ninth anniversary of the Yondaime’s death while his team was out on the mission Tenzo’s currently reporting on.

(Kakashi never stopped mourning.)

He wonders how many times Naruto got beat up this year, or whether the kid had learnt to stay in his apartment on his birthday.

Or, perhaps more accurately, whether the ANBU on his guard duty didn’t have a personal vendetta against the kid and did their jobs.

Then, he’s jerked out of his thoughts quite rudely by movement in his periphery, and a lot of things happen in quick succession.

The Hokage’s ANBU guard, always hidden behind at least two genjutsu, suddenly materialises and promptly collapses, four of the five agents laying boneless on the ground around the room.

At the same instant, a masked figure appears on the windowsill besides the last of the Hokage’s ANBU, and the difference between the masks couldn’t have been clearer.

ROOT. Kakashi thinks distantly, feeling Tenzo tense beside him, his hands rising automatically, one to his kunai pouch, the other shaping Raikiri, but the crouched figure moves faster, hand sweeping the air with fingertips glowing blue, and Kakashi’s body freezes, immobile.

Beside him, Tenzo stops moving as well, though it’s also with the unnatural stillness that Kakashi himself is fighting against.

A puppet master in Konoha. Even for Shimura, that’s an achievement.

King Enma materialises by the Sandaime’s side, staff ready as Sarutobi gets to his feet, far smoother than most would presume given his age, but the puppeteer bares their free hand with a cat-like hiss, palm bared and pointed at the Monkey King, and the summon’s eyes widen at something Kakashi can’t see, then, in a move perhaps more shocking than someone actually attempting to infiltrate the Hokage’s office, Enma disappears.

Once the Monkey King is gone, the puppeteer snaps their wrist and chakra threads snag Sarutobi as well, stilling his movements with the same unnatural rigidity.

“Forgive us, Hokage-sama. I wish there was a better way to do this.” The ROOT breaks the silence, and even with the mask, that voice is young. “But Danzo has infiltrated your personal guard, and we are not without watchers ourselves.”

“You’re committing treason.” Sarutobi comments sharply, visibly fighting against the threads restricting his movement, and Kakashi is doing his level best to channel his lightning chakra down the damned things too, anything to dislodge them.

“In order to uncover even more treason, yes.” The ROOT agrees, and Kakashi is momentarily blindsided by the…cheek? the voice is devoid of humour, yet the words are wry, as if Sarutobi’s observation was something funny. “Inu.”

The other agent, the actual ANBU guard that Kakashi had almost forgotten about, pushes his mask up just high enough to reveal his mouth, then sticks his tongue out.

Kakashi sucks in a quiet breath.

At the back are five thick, familiar lines, and he’s almost certain Tenzo’s stopped breathing as well.

“I’m sure Hatake-san and agent Kinoe are familiar with that particular pattern, which should lend credence to my earlier words.” The ROOT explains, and the shiver that goes down Kakashi’s spine has nothing to do with the complete lack of inflection.

Hatake-san. Agent Kinoe.

Kakashi’s still wearing his ANBU mask and the cloak denoting his status as a Captain of the shadow ranks, the hood up. His hair is covered. His face is covered. Any defining feature that could be used to identify him is hidden away. As is Tenzo’s, and though the latter isn’t wearing a hood, his brown hair is almost as inconspicuous as if he were – it’s brown.

And yet.

The ROOT didn’t hesitate. There was not a trace of doubt in their voice.

Shit.

“Unhand me and my agents, and perhaps I’ll be inclined to listen to you.” Sarutobi demands, and behind the safety of his mask, Kakashi winces.

From the ROOT’s momentary twitch, he’s willing to bet the Sandaime hasn’t won himself any favours.

There is a sigh, almost too quiet, but Kakashi’s ears still catch it, and he startles.

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough.” The ROOT replies, sounding almost sad, then the stillness gives way to motion that’s almost too fast for Kakashi’s to see.

Almost.

The threads drop just as suddenly as they appeared, but the ROOT is already moving, snagging their companion by the back of his armour and throwing him bodily out of the window, hissing as one of the kunai Kakashi throws nicks their shoulder, but they’re still in motion, lounging for the door to the office, though not to escape, no, Kakashi realises a beat too late, when the ROOT’s fingers snag on a hidden latch and then slam their hand against the wall with a burst of chakra.

The whole room seems to pulse for a few seconds as seals bloom from under the agent’s hand and light up the walls from floor to ceiling, glowing golden and burning with power before they suddenly fade and all that’s left is deadly silence and the quiet drip of blood from the tanto Tenzo had stuck in the ROOT’s gut.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Sarutobi snaps, standing as tall as he can and exuding power but not approaching, and Kakashi knows why.

That seal was designed by Minato. Kakashi was there when the blond painted it. But it had never been used. Nobody, save for perhaps Kakashi himself, Sarutobi, and maybe Genma should know of its existence, much less how to find or activate it.

Absolute security. No one in, no one out. Disarmed only once all present in the room bleed on the sealing array.

“The meaning, Lord Hokage,” the ROOT breathes, pulling out Tenzo’s tanto with one hand while the other lights green – (without hand-signs-!) – and covers the wound, knitting it up in record time, “is that Shimura Danzo has been conspiring against you for the better part of four decades, and we have enough evidence to help you bring him down for good.”

Sarutobi looks as if the ROOT had slapped him.

Then, Tenzo breaks the silence, the first sign that he hadn’t been replaced by a particularly life-like statue.

“You said his name.” he murmurs, and the observation is innocuous, almost obvious, but-!

But.

The seal.

Underneath the underneath.

“Yes.” The ROOT agrees, pushing up their mask and sticking out their tongue like the ANBU guard had done, but unlike their companion, there is no seal to be found. “The seal is demanded only of those selected to infiltrate the Hokage’s guard, to prevent precisely this situation from occurring. You try betray ROOT, you die.” A shrug, as if it’s a simple fact of life, and not insanity.

“This should hopefully help you understand the reasoning behind our rather unorthodox method of gaining an audience with you, Hokage-sama.” The ROOT explains, and Kakashi reckons that if their face were uncovered, there’d be a sardonic smile on it.

“’Unorthodox’ is about right.” Sarutobi sighs, but he seems more resigned than angry now, though his eyes are still hard where they’re trained on the agent. “Which is why I find myself in need of more reassurance. Have you got an example of the ‘evidence’ you speak of?”

“I do.” A breath, followed by a direct address that startles Kakashi, “Hatake-san, I am going to move my right hand to my left elbow, and will require a pulse of chakra to unseal the evidence. Please do not stab me when I move.”

It is only then that Kakashi realises his hand has been hovering over his kunai pouch since the seal on the walls was activated, his muscles wound so tight that relaxing them physically hurts him. He nods, once, jerky and startled, and the ROOT proceeds to do just as they’d described, only instead of unsealing a document, a…bird? springs up from their forearm, black-and-white and cartoonish. It spreads its wings and pushes off the ROOT’s arm and flies to the Hokage’s desk, where it hops onto a blank piece of paper that had been lying there, long forgotten, and- dissolves.

Or, rather, Kakashi realises with no small degree of incredulity, turns into words on the page. Words that make the Sandaime’s face turn the colour of the very paper they’re written on, and Kakashi feels like he’s not going to like what comes next.

“What…is this?” Sarutobi asks at last, eyes frantically flickering over the contents of the page in front of him, mouth slack.

“The technique that won my partner his place on your guard.” The ROOT announces, and there’s an edge of something that sounds like vicious satisfaction in their voice. “And as for the report in front of you, it is a copy of communications exchanged between Shimura Danzo and the Head Ninja of the Kumogakure envoy, which culminated in the Hyuuga Affair six years ago. Their correspondence includes guard rotations, weaknesses in the Hyuuga Compound, and instructions for how to word the treaty so Konoha’s retaliation in the event of their capture would be seen as an infraction on our side.”

Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat.

If this is the type of ‘evidence’ the ROOT has at hand – if the casual air with which they explained the contents was anything to go by – then the ever-elusive head of ROOT is as good as done for. There will be no coming back from this, not if the originals are accessed, which will need-!

“You said ‘copy’.” Sarutobi recalls, likely zeroing in on the very same thing Kakashi had realised himself. “In order to move against Danzo,” from the tightening at the corners of the man’s eyes, Kakashi knows that such an idea still pains him, despite having clear proof of the kind of atrocities Shimura has been committing in his name. “I’ll need the originals.”

“And you’ll have them.” The ROOT promises. “As we speak, my partner is waiting on my signal to break into Danzo’s records and grab them. Inu, who you had the questionable pleasure of meeting, briefly, will have hopefully taken the opportunity granted by the change of plans I’d forced upon him to create a diversion.”

“If it is my order you’re waiting for to give the signal, you have it.” Hiruzen informs the agent with a frown, eyes narrowing in contemplation. Kakashi’s gut tells him it’s not quite so simple, his mind stuck on something the ROOT had said, a frown of his own forming behind his mask.

“Change of plans?” he echoes, unable to help himself, and if he’s reading their body language right, the agent seems amused at his question.

“Yes.” The ROOT sighs, nodding towards him, then turning to the Hokage, the line of their shoulders growing tense and unforgiving. “You see, Hokage-sama, Inu wasn’t supposed to get defenestrated, and I kept the existence of the security seal a secret from my brothers despite the many months we’ve spent planning for this very moment all for one reason.”

Something in Kakashi’s chest tightens, and the earlier feeling of foreboding returns.

“The reason I haven’t given the signal yet is because I am not quite so trusting as my brothers to believe in a free trade of information, so I will be needing some reassurances of my own.”

Sarutobi’s frown grows more severe. “What do you mean?”

“The evidence you speak of. We can provide it, yes. But you and I both know that what’s in it won’t just affect Danzo.”

Sarutobi seems to stop breathing, but the ROOT is undeterred.

“I have seen reports of missions so horrific, so brutal and amoral, that, should they ever get out, they’ll put Konoha in the same category as Kiri during the time of Bloody Mist. But they’re not all twisted power-grabs of a madman of a bygone era – a lot of those reports have your or your predecessors’ seal upon them. All technically above-board. Every mission too bloody to go on permanent record, even your ANBU’s personal record, for fear of ever being discovered, is carefully catalogued and stored in Danzo’s kingdom.”

The ROOT waits a beat, lets the weight of their words sink in, before concluding in a chillingly empty tone; “So I need my reassurances, Hokage-sama, that once you have that evidence in front of you, you won’t try to disappear me and my brothers like you’ve disappeared the reports of the last six missions Hatake-san’s team has gone on.”

“What do you want?” Sarutobi bites out, and Kakashi is torn between horrified and awed, his eyes trained on the tiny ROOT.

“Safety.” Comes the immediate response. “Inu is still of Academy age. Let him have a chance at a childhood. My other brother, Okami, is ill, badly so. He needs long-term medical attention if he has any hopes of ever pulling through. And most of ROOT forces are loyal to Danzo because it is the only thing they’ve ever known. Instead of decommissioning them, take them out of the Village, maybe under a Yamanaka, try to socialise them, let them experience life. A bulk of the force will be too old for reconditioning, but they should be able to be absorbed into ANBU fairly seamlessly. Just- there has been enough death and cruelty, Hokage-sama. Please.”

It’s that single word at the end that jars Kakashi, and going by the way the Sandaime seems to age a decade in the span of seconds, he feels the same, but not enough so as to give in.

“I notice you didn’t include yourself in your bid.” He observes wearily, though his gaze is sharp.

Kakashi thinks he hears a mumble that sounds oddly like ‘queen sacrifice’, before the ROOT does perhaps the most unexpected thing to date.

The agent folds in on themselves, going down to one knee in the characteristic ANBU bow.

“I offer myself in service to Konohagakure, in whatever capacity she may require of me.”

Privately, Kakashi thinks even Shikaku wouldn’t have played his hand better.

Sarutobi, for once sounding every year of his age, sighs. “I would like to know the face of the devil with whom I’ve just made the deal.”

There’s a pause, brief but startled, before the figure obediently reaches up and removes the blank mask and attached hood, and –

Oh. 

Pin k.

Her hair is pink. Is all Tenzo can think for a few seconds, his brain completely fried.

Then-

She’s a child.

At eighteen, Tenzo is not exactly the paragon for maturity himself, but the ROOT agent still crouched in front of the Sandaime’s desk is easily half his age, if not younger.

A child.

He tries to marry the cold, apathetic tones of the ROOT that had argued with the Hokage not five minutes back with the pink-haired, prepubescent child kneeling before his desk and his brain short-circuits.

By the way Kakashi-senpai goes tenser than a bowstring, he’s willing to bet his taicho is having similar issues, compounded perhaps by the fact that the girl who’s just done her level best to singlehandedly bring down ROOT is even younger than Weasel was when he joined them.

Her mouth is a flat, displeased line, eyes a cold, flinty jade that promise no quarter nor compromise, and her skin is deathly pale, a testament to years in Danzo’s shadowy employ. The girl wears the expression of an embittered war veteran, and the worst thing is how normal it looks on her tiny body. How easily her face falls into it.

“Do I have your word, then,” the girl asks, rising slowly from her crouch, “that when I deliver you the evidence you need to bring down Shimura, you will guarantee my brothers’ safety, as per my terms?”

“You have my word.” The Sandaime promises, sitting heavily behind his desks. “May I know your name?”

An odd expression crosses the girl’s face, and if possible, her eyes harden even more.

“Tori.”

There are no names in ROOT.

“Very well. Kakashi will go ensure your partners don’t encounter any trouble delivering the evidence, but for that to happen, we need to disarm the security seal.” Sarutobi informs the room at large, and Tenzo dutifully nicks his finger and lets a few drops of blood fall on the seal-matrix.

He listens as the girl gives Kakashi directions to the ROOT exit her brothers are going to take, then watches as another bird rises from her arm and flies out of the window, Kakashi following after it.

Once it is only him, the Hokage, and the ROOT agent, Sarutobi’s expression steels.

“The moment any mention of Hokage involvement in Danzo’s doings becomes known to the public, the protection you bargained for so hard for your brothers becomes null and void.”

Tori jerks her head to look at the man so fast Tenzo hears her neck crack. Her eyes are wide, fear and anger and disbelief warring behind them in equal measure, and it says something to her sheer willpower that even years under Danzo’s thumb, she’s still able to express them.

Behind his mask, Tenzo’s eyes are wide, too, and trained on the Sandaime, a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Your brothers’ happiness for your silence. These are the final terms.” Hiruzen summarises, eyes not leaving the girl’s until she nods, just once, jerky but final, and all traces of emotion vanish from her face.

Then, there is a distant boom of an explosion, and moments later, Kakashi appears on the windowsill, arms laden with files and scrolls. Two figures tumble into the office behind him, one also carrying a stack of files, the other singed in some places and still-smoking in others, but all three radiating satisfaction, and Tenzo has no doubt as to what is in the folders they are carrying.

With a satisfaction he never thought he’d ever feel, he offers Kakashi a hand, then turns to the Hokage expectantly, a smile blooming behind his mask.

Danzo is going down.

Chapter Text

Shin is furious.

He’d thought the emotion beyond him, thanks to Danzo’s efforts, but apparently, his siblings have a unique talent of subverting even the most deep-rooted conditioning with their sheer stupidity.

Years of scheming, months of going over the plan step-by-step, explaining why it is absolutely essential that they follow it to the letter, and Sakura throws it all away on a whim.

The explosion that shook the ROOT HQ wasn’t planned.

Sai sneaking into the archive room, singed and smoking, moments after Danzo rushed off to investigate the explosion, nabbing seemingly-random files and sealing them away before grabbing a pile of folders about Danzo’s involvement with Orochimaru, wasn’t planned.

Hatake Kakashi waiting at the mouth of the exit they rush to, wrestling the files and folders Sai’d grabbed from his arms and jumping in the direction of the Hokage’s Office was most definitely not planned.

Finding Sakura inside the office, maskless and grim-faced but with a hard, victorious glint in her eyes when they fall on the folders is the final straw, but Shin bites his tongue and turns towards the Hokage, keeping his mask on even as he carefully stands and deposits his pile of reports on the Sandaime’s desk.

“Any complications?” The Hokage asks sharply, his eyes hard and trained on Hatake.

“No visible signs of pursuit.” The man informs tonelessly, and Shin bites back a snort.

“Pursuit isn’t what you should be worried about.” Sakura speaks up, drawing all eyes to her. “Speed is of essence right now. The moment Danzo discovers these files are missing, he will make his escape. You have maybe minutes, Hokage-sama, before any chance of damage control for this fallout slips out of your hands.”

As he listens to that detached, matter-of-fact tone, Shin wonders just how long Sakura had been planning this sabotage. He doesn’t think he’ll like the answer.

The Sandaime’s sharp gaze turns to Sakura and he assesses her for a few seconds, then nods, almost imperceptibly.

“Kakashi. In a few seconds, I want you to gather your squad and any ANBU you know haven’t been supplanted by ROOT and go arrest Danzo. I don’t care what charges you give, though treason should suffice. Take him to the lowest cells in T&I.” he orders, then turns to the other ANBU. “Tenzo. Go get me Ibiki and Inoichi, then every Clan Head who’s in-Village and the Council. It is time they are informed of Danzo’s machinations, and continued treachery.”

Hatake stills for a second, the files in his hands slipping before he conspicuously unfreezes and puts them on the desk.

“Sir,” he begins, stilted, visibly grappling for the right wording, “I mean no disrespect, but I do not think it is wise to leave you…here.” He finishes lamely, but the Sandaime looks grimly satisfied.

“Not to worry, Kakashi. I believe we have reached an accord.” And that wording alone grates at Shin, especially when Sakura doesn’t even twitch, a reaction more telling than if she had snarled.

Doubt and disbelief radiate from the Copy-nin, but Sai’s profile of him is proven correct – the man is a good, if traumatised, little foot soldier, so he only nods and, when no more orders are forthcoming, him and his ANBU partner blur and disappear.

With the ANBU agents gone, Sai shifts, unconsciously drifting towards Sakura for comfort and security, which she just as unconsciously offers, moving so her shoulder is half-an-inch in front of his, her body shifting almost imperceptibly to put herself between the boy and the Hokage.

When Shin turns his gaze to the Sandaime, there is a millisecond where the expression on the man’s face is that of pure calculation, like a demolition worker searching for weak points to topple empires with a single strike, before it morphs into one that is nothing short of paternal. 

Shin distrusts that expression so much.

“Inu and Okami, I believe.” The man intones gently, as if afraid to spook them, every inch the kind-hearted, wizened Professor Konohagakure’s propaganda agents paint him as. He must take their silence for agreement, because he rises, and, in a move that makes Sai twitch and Sakura narrow her eyes in blatant suspicion, inclines his head in a not-inconsiderable bow. “The Village thanks you for your sacrifice.”

Clever. Shin thinks, glancing over at Sakura whose lip is curled down in clear distaste, a micro-expression, as far as most would be concerned, but to Shin, it’s all he needs to know she buys the Sandaime’s performance even less than he does. Dastardly, but clever. If he were dealing with normal shinobi, he glances at Sai, who is staring at the Hokage with wide eyes, clearly startled, or, he amends wryly, just Sai, it might’ve even worked.

“It was not entirely selfless.” Shin points out, drawing the man’s eyes onto him, and he makes sure his posture remains as loose and non-threatening as he can make it, despite the vice-like pressure around his lungs at the dry, summer air.

“Perhaps.” Sarutobi agrees. “But it was nonetheless achieved by putting yourself in considerable danger and inconceivable strain, and for that, Konoha is in your debt.”

Konoha. Shin laughs inwardly. Not ‘I’ am. Slippery old coot.

“And it is in the interest of repaying that debt that I’d like to ask you to remove your masks.” The Sandaime continues, and Shin frowns. “For good, if you’d please. And pick a name that is not a codename.”

Shin really wants to exchange a look with Sakura, but without his mask, that’s going to be difficult, so he sighs and reaches up to take the cursed wolf mask off, then meets the Hokage’s eyes with a wry twist to his lips.

“Shin, Hokage-sama.” He informs the man, not dropping eye-contact until Sarutobi does in favour of looking at Sai when he introduces himself too.

“Shin, Sai, and…?” the Sandaime trails off meaningfully, a hint of a challenge in his eyes when he looks at Sakura, and his sister’s lip twitches into a shape that’s half-way to a snarl.

“Sakura.” She bites out, not bothering with honorifics, only her complete lack of inflection saving the reply from sounding as rude as was doubtless intended.

“Very well.” Sarutobi acknowledges, satisfied. “Sai-kun, your sister has brought to my attention that you are of Academy age and would benefit from experiencing what Konoha has to offer to its children. Should you wish it, you could join the current fourth year class, since I dare doubt the level would pose a problem.”

Sai freezes, and Shin is only marginally better off.

Sakura did what now?

But when he glances at her, his sister looks like she’d like nothing more than to introduce Eki-sama, her biggest, most bloodthirsty summon, to the God of Shinobi, and get front-row tickets as the saber-tooth tigress takes Sarutobi’s throat as her lunch.

“And Shin-kun, I have been made aware of your…illness.” The vice around Shin’s lungs tightens.

That’s my secret-! He wants to scream, but he can barely draw a shallow breath without it catching; screaming would send him into a fit, and this time, there are no convenient seals around him to block the sound of him suffocating on his own mucus.

“And while the hospital isn’t as it once was under my student, Konoha still has the best med-nin in all the Shinobi Nations. Ensuring your continued health is the least the Village can do for what you’ve given her.”

And Sakura? What of her? Shin wants to ask, but at this stage, drawing the breath he needs for words is beyond him, so he’s stuck in limbo until Sai breaks it-!

“We accept, Hokage-sama.” His brother announces, quiet yet final, and Shin gasps in a breath and resigns himself to the indignity of the coughing fit he’s been suppressing. But just as the first wave of nausea and cramps come, he feels a hand between his shoulder blades, a pulse of chakra, and then-!

His airways are clear.

He can’t help the knee-jerk reaction to glance back, and he catches the dying green tinge of medical jutsu and hears a quiet splat, and when he tracks Sakura’s fingers, he spots a tiny glob on the floor, blood-tinged and viscous, but no larger than the ring of a kunai.

He looks back to Sakura, but she merely raises an eyebrow, as if unaware of what she’d just done or feigning ignorance and Shin-!

Shin wrestles his utter disbelief firmly down and forces it under lock and key, to be dealt with when they are away from the prying eyes of the Third and he can fully process what Sakura’s just done.

(she cleared his airways through his skin, without an incision, without prior preparation, with only the tensing of his muscles to go off as to timing, all in less than three seconds-!)

“Here there be monsters.” He remembers telling young Uchiha Itachi, back when he was still capable of bluster and life and Shisui-bolstered sense of self-importance. He never thought that healing of all things could inspire such profound feelings of terror in him, but…

But.

There is talent, there is genius, and then there are abominations.

Sai is the first. Shisui was the second. Sakura is shaping up to be the third.

(he should’ve noticed sooner.)

“We accept.” He echoes hoarsely, more of a formality than anything else at this point, and not five seconds after he gives his assent, there is a knock on the door and two men walk in, both towering over the children in the room and the sitting Hokage.

“Hokage-sama,” the older of the two greets, long, straw-blond hair pulled back into a severe tail, though his eyes soften incrementally when they fall on the three of them, “Tenzo came by T&I with some rather vague orders to report.”

The man beside him, tall and broad and scarred in ways even shinobi rarely manage to walk away from, says nothing, his eyes flickering from Shin, to Sai, to Sakura, to the Sandaime, and Shin wonders what the man sees.

“Indeed, Inoichi. I sent Tenzo-kun to gather you and the other Clan Heads for a Council meeting. Conclusive evidence for Danzo’s treachery has finally been brought to light, and I plan on launching a Village-wide investigation, for which I will need your fellow Heads.” Sarutobi explains, but Shin’s eyes are trained on the scarred man.

That’s why he doesn’t miss the minute widening of his eyes at the news, nor the moment a new expression appears on his face as he looks at Shin and his siblings, wariness and contemplation taking the place of the earlier suspicion.  

“And me, Hokage-sama?” the man rumbles, and Shin has no doubt there are shinobi with nightmares narrated by that voice.

“You and Inoichi are here for the same reason, Ibiki-kun.” The Hokage attempts a smile, but it falls short. “You see, the evidence was brought to me by three of Danzo’s agents.”

Shin jolts, and the temperature in the room drops by ten degrees as the men realise what the Sandaime is insinuating.

“They are not a threat.” Sarutobi assures, no doubt aware of the thought process his vague wording had inspired, and Shin is torn between the urge to bristle or laugh, because he is certain that, God of Shinobi or no, the three of them could bring the man to his knees if they so wished. “But I will need you both to run a psychological evaluation on them.”

Sakura shows the first emotion other than distaste – she pales.

“Field mission psych eval, or the ones for POWs?” ‘Ibiki’ asks, unperturbed by the idea of interrogating children, even as the blond beside him looks uneasy.

“Field, please. Inoichi can then sweep them for any traces of Danzo’s…more unsavoury machinations, if you find anything suspicious, Ibiki-kun.” The Sandaime requests, and Shin sees Sakura relax a little, colour returning to her cheeks.

She knows the blond. He realises with a jolt, because that’s relief in Sakura’s eyes when she looks at the Clan Head, an expression that has little right to be there. Or knows of him at the very least.

“And after?” Sakura demands, turning to the Hokage with a blank mask in place, the earlier relief nowhere to be found.

“After,” Sarutobi repeats, and Shin can see that Sakura’s unruffled countenance rubs him the wrong way, “should everything go well, you and your brother will be given a genin apartment. It won’t be particularly glamorous, I’m afraid, but you will have basic amenities covered until you can start running missions. Shin-kun will be taken straight from the evaluation to the hospital, where you’ll be able to visit.”

“And Sai’s Academy admission?” Sakura pushes, and there’s the spark of irritation in the Sandaime’s eyes Shin was looking for.

“I will send someone with the paperwork as soon as we can ensure that Danzo will not be a threat.” He assures her, somehow managing to keep his tone patient and grandfatherly, and Sakura subsides with a nod, then turns to the two men.

“Lead the way, Yamanaka-san, Morino-san.” She says amiably, and when all three men startle, Shin feels like laughing. Then, as they obediently file out of the Office, Sakura turns back to the Hokage’s desk, and the expression on her face morphs.

A sly, smug smirk appears, her eyes sharp and dancing with vindictive satisfaction, looking for all purposes like the cat that’d caught the canary.

I knew their names, the look seems to mock, wouldn’t you like to know how?

Then the smirk disappears, replaced by the usual blankness, and she nods respectively at the Sandaime and leaves the room after the jounin.

Perhaps, Shin muses, it’s time to reconsider who the real chess-master here is.

Inoichi stares at the child sitting across the table from him and quietly despairs.

He is working with next to nothing; barely a name, no file, no prior exposure, no rulebook, and the bombshell that Tenzo had dropped on them – that Councilman Danzo had his own ANBU force and was on his way to getting arrested thanks to intel provided by three children – bouncing around his head.

The girl – Sakura – is likely around Ino’s age, physically. Her feet don’t touch the ground from where she sits on the chair, but she doesn’t swing them like his daughter would have. In fact, everything about the girl is still, unnaturally so, in a way that makes Inoichi think of a coiled snake, waiting to strike, even though nothing in her posture conveys threat.

Inoichi sighs and delves into his briefcase, pulling out a folder with the inkblot tests, and that draws the first real reaction from the girl.

He earns a derisive snort.

“The inkblot test, Yamanaka-san?” She asks, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Truly?”

Inoichi notes, not for the first time, that the girl’s speech pattern is not like one of children, not even traumatised ones.

“You’re familiar?” he replies to her question with one of his own, quirking an eyebrow.

“Not personally.” The girl says, the humour subsiding as she realises he wasn’t joking. “ROOT agents were more likely to be on the receiving end of an interrogation than therapy, and there were much quicker fixes for that.” She makes a crunching notion and sticks her tongue in her cheek for a split-second, and Inoichi has no doubt just what she is insinuating, but the thought makes bile rise up his throat.

Cyanide.

“Well, this is a psych evaluation, Sakura-chan, not a field interrogation.” He clarifies, just to shift his mind away from that particular gutter, and the look on the girl’s face turns wry.

“Are you sure your subordinate feels the same?” she asks him dryly, and Inoichi twitches despite himself.

That isn’t…an invalid question, all things considered, though he wouldn’t have expected it from someone who’d seen Ibiki for all of three minutes.

“I assure you that Ibiki is entirely professional.” Inoichi smiles, aiming for reassuring, but the girl looks sceptical.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” She sighs, then levels that flat, dead gaze on him and quirks her lip. “Okay, Inoichi-san, I’ll be frank. Instead of wasting each other’s time with the inkblot test, I’d really rather prefer you just asked any questions you may have straight out, so we can finish this and go on our merry way.”

Inoichi carefully doesn’t do a double-take at the frank wording, narrowing his eyes instead.

“And what guarantee do I have that you’ll answer honestly?” he checks, because the offer is tempting, but it’s too…simple for his tastes.

The girl smiles, sharp and sardonic, as if she expected the question.

“And what guarantee do you have that Danzo hasn’t shown us the inkblot test and told us exactly what to answer to avert suspicion?” she shoots back, and Inoichi masks a wince.

None.

“Okay. Let’s try this.” He sighs at last and collects the papers he’d taken out, shoving them back in his briefcase and leaving only a notepad. “How did you join ROOT?”

“I was kidnapped.”

Inoichi jerks, looking up from his notepad with wide eyes, but Sakura meets his gaze and looks utterly nonplussed despite the admission.

“Right.” He manages, trying to aim for professional and unaffected and missing by a mile. “And how old were you?”

“I…” she hesitates, frowning, and Inoichi realises that she can’t remember. “It was a few weeks after my sixth birthday.” She says at last, and Inoichi’s heart twists.

“And how old are you now?”

The frown deepens.

“What day is it?” she asks distractedly, and when Inoichi answers – February 20^th – it smooths out. “I’ll be ten in a month.”

Ten.

(she’s Ino’s age-!)

“So you were in ROOT for around three and a half years?”

“Looks like it.”

“And when did you decide to start collecting evidence for the Hokage to take down Councilman Shimura?”

“A month after joining.”

Inoichi pauses, looks up, not bothering to hide how startled he is because that can’t be right.

“A month?” he checks, and the girl smiles.

“Yes. I was never loyal to Danzo.” She admits, not a hint of hesitation in her demeanour.

“Forgive me for asking, but…how?”

Sakura shrugs.

“My brothers got to me before he could. They gave me something else to fight for. Something better.”

Right. Next question or professionalism be damned, he’s vaulting over the table and hugging the kid.

“Who came up with the plan to take Danzo down?”

“It…was probably a joint effort. Though, when I was inducted, the idea for the revolution was already brewing in my brothers’ heads, they just didn’t have the push they needed yet.” The girl is surprisingly loose-lipped now, and Inoichi still can’t find a hint of lie anywhere about her.

“And was it always three of you?”

Ah. A change.

Sakura’s expression pinches with pain.

“We…we were four, once.” She admits quietly, a shadow falling over her face.

“What happened?”

“He died.”

Be professional, be professional, beprofessional!!

“I’m sorry.” He manages eventually, genuine sorrow leaking into his voice, and Sakura inclines her head, though she doesn’t meet his eyes.

“What are your plans for the future?” he asks next, and he notes how the girl’s posture relaxes ever so slightly at the change in subject.

“My otouto is going to be starting the Academy if everything works out, so I’ll need to be there for him, and our aniki will be hospital-bound for the near-future, so my plans are all Konoha-centred, for now.” She admits, and Inoichi frowns.

“And your plans?” he presses, and the amused lip-quirk he gets lets him know that Sakura had evaded his question intentionally.

“I will most likely be poached for ANBU, Inoichi-san. Not much point in planning too far.”

Inoichi barely resists the urge to pass a hand over his eyes and despair.

“You could decline. Konoha is good, Sakura-chan. You should have the chance to see it.”

The girl lets out a humourless chortle.

“The people are good, Inoichi-san. The Village is a military dictatorship ran on politics and propaganda. I have no future there.”

Inoichi…puts that aside, for the time being. There’s a lot to unpack there.

“Could you not ask to start the Academy alongside your otouto?” he asks, and another startled laugh escapes the pinkette, seemingly shocking her as much as it does him.

“The Academy?” she parrots, humour still evident in her voice. “Are you a father, Inoichi-san?”

He almost does a double-take at the non-sequitur, but nods. “Yes. I am.”

“And could you imagine me, the embittered, traumatised, PTSD-ridden child-soldier interacting with your child?” she inquires, and Inoichi can’t stifle his wince at her wording.

He makes a note of ‘low self-esteem; acknowledgement of trauma’, then considers what the girl said.

He thinks of Ino, his wonderful, fierce Ino with a heart of gold, thinks of her righteous anger when she nattered on and on to him about how some bullies had cornered the shy Hyuuga heiress and how that just wasn’t right. He thinks of his daughter and the tentative friendship she’d forged with Hiashi’s oldest, thinks of the way little Hinata-chan looks at Ino as if she’d hung the stars, then he looks at the girl in front of him and sighs.

It’s like comparing night and day, or the sun and the moon. Sakura is the deceptive calm of the sea that lulls even the most experienced sailors into a false sense of security and pulls them to the depths in their moments of inattention, while Ino is… not. She is soft and kind and loving and innocent. The two couldn’t be more disparate if they tried, and yet…

“My daughter treats people like projects, Sakura-chan. Nothing and no-one is too broken, too jagged for her to fix.”

Sakura quirks a wry smile, but it seems self-directed.

“Are you calling me broken, Inoichi-san?”

Inoichi flushes at his mistake, but the girl seems only amused, perhaps even a little touched.

“I’m saying that a little, ah, TLC never hurt anyone, Sakura-chan.”

The girl erupts into giggles, as if he’s just told the most entertaining joke of the month.

“I’d have paid you fifty million to say that in ROOT, Inoichi-san.” She manages to get out once her laughter subsides, and the rosy flush to her cheeks makes her look the most alive since Inoichi laid eyes on her. “TLC. Hah.”

Inoichi smiles back, small and hesitant yet warm, and steers the conversation back on track.

“And what of your parents, Sakura-chan?” he asks, and the girl’s mirth evaporates faster than it takes him to blink. “They were civilian, were they not? Are you planning on going back to them?”

 Immediately, it’s as if shutters were pulled down over Sakura’s eyes, covering all emotion held within, and her face smooths back into that eerie blankness.

“My first mission in ROOT,” she says quietly, and Inoichi allows the change in subject more out of personal curiosity than a professional one, “was to kill a man with my bare hands. What I wasn’t told until years later was that my handler had spread my hair and my blood on the scene after I was done. So picture it, Inoichi-san: a lowly civilian noble, with a rumoured taste for minors; a civilian girl’s blood and hair on the scene. The girl disappears, the man is dead. What conclusion would you have reached?”

Inoichi can’t speak past the bile rising up his throat, but it seems Sakura doesn’t actually expect him to answer.

“My parents have probably already mourned me, grieved for me, and moved on. And rightfully so; I am not the child that they lost.” She sighs, sounding a tinge annoyed, and Inoichi wonders whether she feels like she’s said too much. “So no, Inoichi-san. I am not planning on going back to my parents. I am not so mindlessly cruel.”

Inoichi swallows, once, twice, then gathers his things and stands up. “This concludes our evaluation. Thank you for your cooperation.”

He leads her out of the interrogation room, surprised to see Kakashi outside, waiting with Sakura’s younger brother, though a blank dog mask covers the boy’s face. Inoichi waits until Ibiki comes out of his interrogation room with the grey-haired one, a wolf mask over his face, and leaves Sakura, the only one unmasked, in the jounins’ capable hands.

Then, he runs to the bathroom, drops his briefcase, and throws up.

Ibiki watches Hatake watch the pink-haired brat and wonders at the wariness he finds in the Copy-nin’s face. Considering Inoichi’s pale, ‘I’m-about-to-bring-up-my-lunch’ expression when he finished his ‘evaluation’, he considers not chocking it up to Hatake’s undiagnosed paranoia just this once and actually looks.

She’s small. Unhealthily pale. Definitely underweight. But those are undeniably muscles lining her thighs and shoulders, and she carries herself in a way that he’d expect jounin camping on the front-lines would, not a child within Academy-age.

When she looks at him, he mentally adds that he’s seen more life in the eyes of corpses.

Test time.

“You’ve had shit luck, kids.” He offers gruffly, and Hatake almost gives away the name of the game when he jerks to look at him incredulously, but luckily, that ridiculous mask of his saves him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Shimura is being held in a cell two floors down if you want to get your kicks in. His chakra’s been sealed, so it’s not like he can call for help.”

The dark-haired kid, Sai, startles, and it’s obvious despite the mask hiding his face.

He’s the one Ibiki had hesitantly pegged as having some neurodevelopmental disorder because there’s shinobi-crazy, there’s ROOT-conditioning-crazy, and then there’s Orochimaru’s brand of people-are-fascinating-and-I-want-to-take-them-apart-and-see-how-they-fit-back-together-because-I-don’t-understand crazy, and the kid seems to have a dizzying mix of all three. He’d flipped between reticent and oversharing so fast Ibiki had almost gotten whiplash, but the one topic he’d been consistently tight-lipped on, to the point that Ibiki had half-considered seeing whether threatening to rip off his nails would get a reaction, had been his siblings.

The same siblings now grab his hands, seemingly both reaching the same conclusion, and the grey-haired one narrows his eyes at Ibiki behind his own mask but says nothing.

That one was a slippery bastard in his interrogation. Older than Uchiha-lookalike – though by how much, Ibiki has no clue since he can just about tell the difference between a five-month-old and a five-year-old, and anywhere above that he just approximates by hormones and acne – and canny in such a way that if the remaining members of the first ANBU squad formed under the Nidaime were to welcome him to their poker nights, they would find a worthwhile opponent.

The only things he’d freely answered were related to Danzo’s treachery and the sheer insanity of the old coot’s perception of their world. All the other questions he’d managed to turn back on Ibiki or diverted with a beguiling smile, and the jounin had had to grudgingly accept that he wouldn’t be getting anything incriminating on the kid.

“What arm did you put his chakra-restricting seal on?” the pink-haired brat asks, a propos nothing, and Ibiki blinks, only belatedly realising what she’s referring to.

Right. The test.

“His left.” He bluffs, though his voice betrays nothing, because he is Morino Ibiki, a man hardened jounin flinch away from, and if he wants to scare some bratlings, he will.

The earlier excitement in the Uchiha-clone’s posture disappears, and the oldest brat radiates smugness, while the girl levels that dead-eyed gaze on him and frowns.

“We are not so hasty to throw away our second chance at life, Ibiki-san. You’ll have to try harder.”

And with that, she subsides once again, quiet and pensive, and the boys at her side follow suit. Ibiki turns to Hatake with a frown, but the Copy-nin’s eyes are closed, and he looks like he could almost be napping. He must feel Ibiki’s glare on him, though, because he answers the unspoken question.

“Shimura was missing his left arm when we apprehended him.” He explains simply, and Ibiki’s eyebrows soar up at the notion of the crusty Elder getting involved in anything where someone could stand to hurt him.

He glances back at the pink menace and feels an ember of intrigue spark to life.

“What gave me away?” he asks, not specifying what that he means how did you know I was talking straight outta my ass but the kid must get the inkling anyway because she answers.

“Your reputation precedes you, Morino-san. It wasn’t too far-fetched to assume you’d try to trick us.”

“That way of thinking is gonna end in you jumping at your own shadow in a few years.” He warns bluntly, and the kid barely blinks.

“Careful, Morino-san, or your jesting might get misconstrued as concern.”

Ibiki can’t stop the aborted laugh the retort startles out of him.

“Alright, Hatake, take boy-wonder over here to the hospital and I’ll show dead-eyes and dog-boy to their new lodgings.” He orders once he reins his laughter in, and though the girl scowls at him, there’s a hint of something sly and satisfied in her eyes when he meets them.

“And what cover story shall I feed the hospital?” Hatake asks flatly, gesturing at the grey-haired brat in a clear don’t lump me with this but Ibiki just smirks and shrugs.

“Fuck if I know. Say it’s your long-lost estranged cousin or something. Not like anyone’s going to question it.” He thinks he hears a snort to his left, but when he looks at the girl, her face is perfectly blank and there’s not a hint of amusement in her demeanour. He turns back to Hatake. “That hair colour isn’t exactly common, you know.”

Neither is being such a goddamn obstinate bastard.

Subtly, so the kids don’t catch it, Hatake flips him the bird. Then, before Ibiki has a chance to retaliate, he wraps his hand around his newly-declared cousin’s wrist and blurs.

“Well. Follow me, bratlings.” He throws at the kids, then heads for the stairs out of the bunker.

He pretends not to notice as the ANBU team that had been watching the entire exchange melts out of the shadows and follows.

Eight hours after two children broke into his office, seven hours after he sent the same children to get interrogated by Ibiki of all people, and six hours after he called every Clan Head and the Council of Elders into his office, Hiruzen can say with certainty that Danzo is as good as dead.

Some of the Clan Heads, particularly those who’d lost children to ROOT, had been campaigning for an execution without trial. Luckily, Hiashi, Murakumo and Chouza had been managed to moderate that bloodlust to execution following a private trial, with a jury of the Council and Clan Heads and an audience of only the in-Village jounin, which would speed the process up exponentially.

Still, despite all signs pointing to very swift and definitive justice befalling Danzo, Tsume had snarled when Hiruzen requested that the civilians not be made aware of Danzo’s depravity. Even Shikaku, usually so even-tempered, had questioned the wisdom of his decision.

“The civilians will be reassured to see that we are not infallible.” He’d offered, calmly and without raising his voice, yet his words cut right through Tsume’s incoherent snarls and the angry buzzing coming from Shibi’s direction. “We failed before, with Orochimaru, and later Itachi – it would inspire confidence to see that we can bring justice to those who abuse the system without driving them to madness or exile.”

“I value your judgement, Shikaku-kun, but in this instance, I think you overestimate human nature. If the civilians learn of Danzo’s transgressions, they will lose faith in the shinobi system. They cannot be allowed to learn of the full truth. A few days after the trial, they will be informed that Danzo passed away due to an unseen illness.”

“Will you enforce another gag-order then?” Tsume demands, and her tone is far too sharp to appear even vaguely respectful. “Like on poor Uzumaki-kun?”

The temperature in the room drops, but Shibi lays a hand on Tsume’s shoulder and surprises everyone by speaking.

“Why hold a trial at all if Shimura-san’s fate is already decided?” he asks quietly, evenly, the buzzing under his skin almost unnoticeable now.

“Politics and propaganda.” Inoichi mumbles from the corner of the table, his gaze far-away and his expression haunted. Hiruzen catches Shikaku throw his friend a concerned glance, but he ignores it in favour of calling the meeting to a close.

“It’s been decided. The trial will be held in two days and all will be explained then. Thank you for coming, and for listening. I know it was not easy. And I offer my sincerest condolences for your losses.” The gathered shinobi take the dismissal for what it is, and quickly file out of his office.

A few minutes later, Hiruzen is left on his own, with only his guilt and his pipe for company.

It was inevitable that Danzo would one day be exposed, but Hiruzen never thought it would ever be during his term as Hokage. Still, when the opportunity presented itself so neatly and effortlessly on his part, he’d have been a fool to pass it up, no matter his sympathy to his childhood teammate.

Childhood.

His mind drifts back to the children who had stood before him not ten hours ago; he absently corrects himself, because they were not children. They were soldiers, war-born and death-forged; tools custom-made to serve their master; mice who should’ve cowered before the big cat.

Yet, it seems even mice will bite when cornered.

Hiruzen thinks of emerald eyes, of the smugness, the accusations, the anger held within, and sighs.

If you live long enough, you begin to see the same eyes in different people, and he’d seen eyes like hers before.

He’d seen them in Tobirama-sensei. In Orochimaru. In Minato. In Kakashi-kun.

He’d seen them in people with nothing left to lose, but who could and would bring empires to the ground once they finally lost it, if not carefully monitored.

Tobirama-sensei had avoided such fate due to his sheer sentiment. It was both, a blessing and a curse that he’d always been so set on protecting those assigned to him. A curse because, if he hadn’t worried about the safety of Hiruzen’s team, he could’ve fought the Kinkaku Force that had attacked them with his full repertoire of truly devastating jutsu and wiped them from the surface of the earth and fulfilled his term as Hokage. A blessing, however, because if he’d done so and succeeded, he’d have singlehandedly thrown Konoha into a war with Kumo. Sheer, foolish sentiment, no doubt learnt from his late aniki, had prevented Tobirama-sensei from fulfilling the promise held in the emptiness of his eyes and becoming a catalyst to war.

Orochimaru, as Hiruzen had learnt today, had been betrayed. Still, his disappointed ambition had led him into Danzo’s waiting arms, and when he broke, he sent three full ANBU squads to the Shinigami, and every subsequent hunter-nin team Hiruzen had thought to send after his old student since. So Orochimaru became the monster parents told their children horror stories about, and the last time Hiruzen had seen him, the emptiness that had once been genius and charisma had been overcome with madness.

Minato’s genius and untethered ambition had been masterfully tamed by tales of the Will of Fire and the Destiny of Hokage, both offered by Jiraiya’s careful tutelage. Hiruzen had never been prouder of his old student than he was when he saw Minato grow from the precocious fourteen-year-old genius jounin intent on testing limits of jutsu and people alike to a man who, in his mid-twenties, did not hesitate to sacrifice his and his wife’s lives and the happiness of his new-born son for the security of the Village. Jiraiya had ensured that Minato died a hero, not a wild dog that had to be put down or chased away like Orochimaru.

And Kakashi…Hiruzen wonders whether ANBU saved or broke Kakashi, but it seems like the boy is still set on self-destructing, and if he stays in ANBU, then there’s a chance they’ll be able to minimise the collateral damage when he finally goes down. After all, with a draft of Tenzo’s reassignment papers and Kotetsu’s resignation from Team Ro on his desk, all that will really go down with Kakashi will be Yugao and whatever interim member they happen to have at the time.

Hiruzen thinks back to the pink-haired menace who had so blatantly challenged him, then casts his gaze to the ANBU forms on his desk. Perhaps… she’d offered herself in service to the Village, after all, and it didn’t escape his notice that Danzo’s files about the Uchiha Massacre are conspicuously missing. If the girl breaks, she could tear down any respectability and legacy Hiruzen had managed to build as effortlessly as she’s just destroyed Danzo’s, and that cannot be allowed.

He sits behind his desk, pulls a third type of ANBU form towards him, and begins filling it out.

If he lets Kakashi stay in ANBU, puts the girl on his team and uses the boy as the ticking time-bomb that he is, he could get rid of two pesky birds with one stone.

Within minutes, the form declaring Sakura’s immediate installation as a third member of Team Ro is complete, and the girl’s fate is sealed.

Hiruzen stands, sighs, extinguishes his pipe, and heads on home, and if he were younger, there would’ve been a bounce in his step.

Unlike Danzo, he will not be brought down by a child.

Chapter Text

The apartment Ibiki leads them to is perfectly utilitarian.

It’s an almost-exact replica of Naruto’s old apartment, only difference being a slightly larger common area and an extra door, which Sakura guesses leads to the second bedroom. She spies a stove and a dilapidated fridge, and reckons the whole building is in dire need of TLC.

Overall, it’s clear that the Sandaime isn’t going to spend a single yen more than he absolutely has to in order to house them.

Luckily, Shin’s paranoia ran far deeper than the Hokage’s pettiness.

“Home sweet home.” Ibiki snorts, breaking the silence that had fallen over the three of them as he drops the keys on Sakura’s outstretched hand. “Your rent and utilities will be covered by the Village until you graduate the Academy or start earning enough to be self-sufficient. If you have any questions, ask now, otherwise I am leaving.”

Sakura narrows her eyes, her hand tightening around the keys. “No tricks?” she asks finally, and is rewarded by Ibiki’s lip twitching up slightly.

“No tricks. You passed. This is the reward.” He confirms, and Sakura nods, satisfied, then inclines her head in a shallow bow.

“Thank you for your time, Morino-san.”

Ibiki snorts again, then, with a rustle of leaves, he is gone.

Almost in a daze, Sakura closes the front door and drops the keys on the small hall table in the corridor, before following Sai deeper into the apartment. She takes a tour of the bedrooms – a basic futon-desk-closet set-up – and the bathroom, which is comparably dinghy to the kitchen, but at least cockroach-free, unlike Naruto’s old apartment, and thinks.

She knows, realistically, that this is enough for them. Sai, after taking an even shorter tour of the apartment than she did, had gravitated to the living room windows like a moth to a flame and seemed enraptured by the never-ending stream of people milling about below. She knew that as long as nobody told him to go back to Danzo’s windowless hell of a HQ, he’d be content.

But the goal of their entire mad operation to bring down one of the most untouchable men in Konohagakure’s history hadn’t been simple contentment. ‘Enough’ simply isn’t good enough this time, and Sakura makes up her mind, stepping closer to Sai and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sai-chan,” she murmurs, not wanting to startle the raven even though she’s sure he already sensed her approach, “ever wondered whether your talent for art extended to interior design as well?”

Sai turns to her, eyes wide, and his chakra thrums with excitement. Sakura smiles, amused, and so unbearably, undeniably fond.

“Wanna find out?”

It takes Sai less than two hours to have the blueprints, colour-scheme, and furniture for their flat mapped out. Sakura gives him free rein over deciding the colours and designs for everything, though she insists on being the one to choose the colours and furniture of her bedroom. After living with her parents, then on the frontlines of an international war, then in ROOT, the potential of finally being able to do something as silly and seemingly-inconsequential as decorating her own bedroom is a little childish dream-come-true.

Then, she takes a third of the stash of their hard-earned ROOT money and takes Sai shopping.

They spend hours wondering from a carpenters to an interior-design store, choosing paints and desks and futons and little cosy knick-knacks, and Sakura almost cries when she catches a mesmerized-looking Sai running his fingers over a crushed-velvet sofa cushion, eyes wide with wonder.

(she makes sure four of the cushions and a soft-wool sofa throw end up in their basket, and pretends not to notice how Sai brightens when he spots them)

Aware that on the outside they look like Academy-age kids, Sakura carefully requests that the furniture that ten-year-olds wouldn’t normally be spotted carrying is delivered to their flat instead. Keeping up an appearance of normalcy is half the battle, after all.

Everything else – paint cans, paintbrushes, blankets, cushions, various utensils, cleaning products, towels, and, really, anything they can realistically carry – they lug back to their apartment, legs aching after the thirtieth-something trip to their third-floor flat.

Sakura spends the rest of the day covering every inch of the floors and anything valuable in newspaper, while Sai does what he’s best at and paints.

The sun had well and truly set by the time Sai finishes painting the bathroom, and the stench of paint is so overwhelming in their entire apartment that Sakura simply grabs his hand and tugs him out the door and up the fire-escape leading to the roof, two of their newly-purchased blankets in hand and a cushion under each arm. She may be a veteran and she may have survived four years in Danzo’s basement of a base, but like hell is she going to sleep in that apartment if she doesn’t absolutely have to.

“That was…fun.” Sai tells her once they cocoon themselves in their respective blankets, the starry night sky twinkling above them, the noise of the street reduced to almost nothing with the late hour and how high they are above it all.

Sakura smiles and her heart swells, and she squeezes her eyes shut, holding back the stubborn, relieved tears that threaten to escape.

“I’m glad.” She replies and hopes that her voice isn’t as choked up as it sounds to her.

“Thank you, aneue.”

“Always, otouto.”

And with the sky stretching out like an endless, sparkling canvas above them, Sakura falls asleep, hand-in-hand with a boy for whom she’d turn the entire world on its head and set it aflame without a hint of hesitation.

They spend the next two days making their house a home.

Their apartment is almost unrecognisable from what it was when Ibiki left them, and Sakura is gleeful when she thinks of what the Sandaime’s reaction would be if he saw it now. Sai, too, although he is more subtle in his joy, noticeably relaxes every time he steps into their living room and his posture firms with something a lot like pride.

Sai’s bedroom is the clear blue of a cloudless sky, while Sakura chose the soothing green of shadowed mossy forests, though it’s their living room that’s the most impressive of all. Red blends into orange that blends into warm yellow, a perfect recreation of the afternoon sky seconds before the last rays of sunshine disappear over the horizon.

After three days, Sakura assigns the term ‘home’ to a place and means it for the first time since even before Pein’s invasion.   

On the fourth day, Sai’s Academy registration papers come, delivered by a haggard chunin who insists on waiting while Sai fills them in, and won’t stop shooting Sakura what he clearly thinks are inconspicuous glances as she very unsubtly dips her senbon in her newest batch of batrachotoxin, occasionally piping in when Sai gets stuck.

On the fifth day, Sakura drags Sai shopping for anything and everything they missed in their apartment-spree. New clothes, school supplies, better-grade weapons, books; both, for leisure, and for life-skills, though she carefully keeps him away from the ones on how to socialise; and anything Sai looks at with even the barest hint of longing in his eyes, Sakura makes sure ends up in their bags.

On the sixth day, Sakura visits Shin in the hospital, and winces at the shivering, sweat-soaked mess of a boy she finds in the hospital bed.

“I’m fine.” Is what he greets her with, pupils blown wide and teeth clenched as he rides out the wave of nausea. “It’s necessary.”

“I know.” Sakura replies, grabbing the discarded, half-empty glass from his bedside and topping it up with more cold water. “But just because it’s necessary doesn’t mean it’s fine. Withdrawal isn’t pleasant, aniki, you don’t have to pretend.”

“Don’t I?” Shin bites out, losing the fight with nausea and turning to the side to vomit into the basin clipped onto his bed for that precise reason. “You always do.”

And Sakura…doesn’t know how to respond to that. She isn’t sure she wants to.

So she doesn’t.

“I’ll come by once you’re through the worst of it.” She informs him curtly, blowing out a frustrated sigh. “I just wanted to let you know that Sai is starting the Academy tomorrow. We did it.”

And so saying, she takes her leave.

On the seventh day since moving in to their new apartment, Sakura walks Sai to the Academy gates, taking a moment to admire the boy she gets to call a brother in this life.

The horrendous, belly-bearing crop-top of his teenage years is nowhere in sight, though it seems Sai will forever be a fashionista, no matter the timeline. Excess skin is covered by a tight, reinforced black undershirt, over which Sai has thrown a light grey, cropped short-sleeve hoodie. Coupled with his loose, tied-at-the-ankles charcoal hakama pants, he looks as if he couldn’t decide between being battle-ready or nap-ready, yet it somehow works.

Unable to fight back the wave of fondness that washes over her, Sakura reaches out and ruffles Sai’s hair, flashing him a reassuring smile.

“Have fun, Sai-chan. I’ll be by later to pick you up and we can go to Yakiniku to celebrate.”

Sai considers her for a second, then smiles. His eyes crinkle into adorable half-crescents and his cheek dimples, and he reaches for the hand Sakura still has in his hair and wraps his fingers around her wrist, squeezing lightly.

“I will wait for you.” He murmurs, no lie nor unnecessary sentiment, just fact, yet Sakura feels warmed to the core by the devotion she reads in his eyes.

With a final squeeze to her wrist, Sai turns and disappears amongst the throng of students heading into the once-familiar building.

(Sakura laughs herself to tears at his recounting of his day later on, once they’re sitting at Yakiniku Q, barbeque long-forgotten in favour of Sai’s deadpan disbelief. “They don’t know how to tree-walk, aneue.” He tells her in that bland, inflectionless tone, his expression perfectly placid even as his chakra is going haywire in his confusion. “They’re two years from graduation and they haven’t even started learning how to create substantial bunshin.”. She knows she may grow to regret what she tells him next, but a part of her psyche is twenty-seven, and this is too good an opportunity to pass up. “Well, to keep things interesting, you could always…”)

On the eighth day, Sakura’s late-morning stretches are interrupted by two shadowy figures in painted masks emerging from the treeline.

On the twenty-second day, Sakura returns to the Village and gets a tattoo.

On the hundred and twenty-seventh day, agent Mongoose joins Team Ro.

Their new teammate is quiet.

That’s Kakashi’s main impression. After a three-month-long string of missions where their resident rookie was put through the ringer and Team Ro ticked off more assassinations than most jounin see in their careers, he can add that she’s unusually quiet.

If not for the fact that Kakashi heard her bargain with a kage and talk for over an hour, he would’ve attributed it to ROOT conditioning, but as it is, he knows better.

She’s good, too. She takes to the sneaky, dirty, soul-staining missions that are required of them like a fish to water, listens without questioning and provides reports on time, written neatly and concisely.

Unlike Weasel, she offers camaraderie freely – a touch to the shoulder here, an offer of a spare granola bar there – she doesn’t pretend to know the dynamics, doesn’t force herself into the team, but she fits, in a way that a barely ten-year-old shouldn’t among veteran assassins.

But she’s still quiet.

For all that ANBU cultivates an image of being impersonal, once you’re on the inside, it’s anything but. The squad becomes a second family with how much time they are required to spend together, the masks are only worn on missions and any chance at time off is grabbed with eager hands. Hierarchy and obedience are only really adhered to on missions outside the Village, and Yugao herself is living proof that even hero-worship will wane after sufficient exposure.

Kakashi also knows that his team is somewhat infamous amongst the shadow-ranks. He knows what reputation they have, he knows he’s essentially had it built around him, a then-seventeen-year-old recruit, who after two years of service got the title of Captain. He remembers the stares, the jeers, the bitterness that had been directed at him and he’d rolled with it. He’d had the best and brightest under his command – had nabbed the best and only kenjutsu mistress at the time, had campaigned for taking an ex-ROOT agent who’d tried to kill him twice into the heart of his team, had gotten the Uchiha heir despite his rocky history with the Clan and the boy had been even younger than Kakashi was when he started.

Then he’d had it come crashing down around him. He’d been one of the first called to the clean-up after the Massacre, had lost one squad member to the life of missing-nin, another – Tenzo – a few months later, to a classified, long-term mission outside the Village. He’d had to pick up the pieces, kept Ko and Yugao on, and tried recruit after recruit to fill the missing spot but none lasted past the first mission outside the Village; quit as soon as they realised that gossip and hearsay was nothing in comparison to the actual missions assigned to Team Ro.

In a fit of frustrated pique, he’d requested for Genma to be transferred back into the shadow-ranks, confident that at least he would last, because despite his easy disposition and unfailing good humour, the man had more blood in his ledger than even Kakashi. They worked well for a period of time, and then Ko had left and he had to run through the whole recruiting process again –

-and then he got Sakura.

Three months since she was brought in, and the girl is still here, undeniably a part of his team, even though she hardly ever speaks.

Kakashi sighs, slumps against the trunk of the tree he’s reclining on during one of their whole-squad training sessions in one of HQ’s indoor training grounds, and looks down at the source of his latest headache.

“What do you think?” he asks when he feels Genma settle on the branch beside him, and they both spend a minute silently watching Yugao run their new recruit through kenjutsu drills.

“She’s adjusting well.” Genma says at last, and there’s a hint of something sardonic in his voice, despite the mild words.

Kakashi snorts, because they both know that new recruits don’t adjust to Team Ro, they survive it and then never return.

“Think it will last?” he presses, knows Genma understands what he’s really asking – an approximation for when he reckons the other shoe will drop – and the brunet hums, tilts his head in that assessing, careful way of his, and shrugs.

“She keeps up physically just fine.” He points out, “And somehow, her default response to your ridiculousness seems to be amusement, so she might make it.”

Kakashi makes an affronted sound because that was unnecessary, but Genma, who’s known him since before he hit his growth-spurt, who’s seen him cling to Minato, who shared his grief when the blond was taken from them, who is the second person, right after Gai, who Kakashi would say comes the closest to knowing him, Genma just raises an eyebrow, daring him to protest.

“Even you must realise the hazing you’re putting the kid through is excessive.” He says, and it’s not an admonishment, not really, it’s far too mild for that, but Kakashi knows better. “I get not wanting another Weasel, but she’s surprisingly human for a child genius.”

“Not a child genius.” Kakashi denies, watches as Yugao twists the kid’s tanto out of her hands and kicks her legs out from underneath her. “Her family was civilian.”

(is, he should say. Is civilian. Haruno Mebuki and Haruno Kizashi are still alive, although they'd left Konoha and settled in Tanzaku-gai after their six-year-old daughter was kidnapped-and-presumed-killed in broad daylight, but not before leaving tiny, hand-shaped bruises around the throat of her definitely-dead presumed-rapist.)

Genma snorts, jolting Kakashi out of his spiral, and the tokujo couldn’t have called bullshit clearer than if he’d shouted it from the top of the Hokage Mountain.

“There’s nothing about that,” he says and jerks his chin at the scene below them as Yugao repeats the drill and this time, Sakura side-steps, kicks at her wrist, jumps over the low retaliatory kick and moves low and into Yugao’s guard and lightly raps her knuckles against the woman’s chest-armour before stepping away, “that says anything other than trained assassin.”

Kakashi sighs, thinks back to that faithful afternoon in the Sandaime’s office and wonders why he agreed to take on a revolutionary of all things, then gives in. Genma’s not the type to let a line of questioning go so easily, after all, and for all that Kakashi keeps his secrets close to his chest, this one might be better off shared.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” he starts, and Genma’s chakra sings with victory, “but when Sarutobi shook ROOT, she was what fell out.”

(though, really, who shook whom?)

Genma frowns for a second, then his face goes slack with shock.

“Her?!” he demands, looks to Kakashi as if asking him to take it back. “The old war hawk was brought down by a kid?!” and of course the tokujo catches on, Kakashi had been counting on it, but he’s still distantly surprised at just how quickly the man pieces it together.

“Mm.” Kakashi hums and absently notes their female teammates have moved on to controlled sparring.

“So then- the long-term missions assigned to the Yamanaka?” Genma asks, and it’s a leap but it’s not wrong.

“Price of information.” Kakashi explains, and smiles wryly. “Reconditioning and socialisation instead of, ah, decommissioning.”

Genma blinks, and Kakashi can see the cogs whirring in his mind.

“And the sudden spike in numbers in Assassination and Sabotage are, what? Those too old to be reconditioned?” when Kakashi stays silent, he sighs, takes off his bandana and rakes his hand through his hair. “Kami.”

A senbon suddenly embeds itself in the tree trunk between them, close and fast enough that Kakashi feels the whoosh of air even through his mask. As one, they look down, and Yugao is standing there, smirking, while their youngest teammate has the gall to wave.

“Are you two quite done?” Yugao asks, the respect and awe Kakashi remembers from their first days as Team Ro nowhere to be found. “We were thinking about 1v1v1v1.”

The corner of Sakura’s mouth twitches upwards at Kakashi’s put-upon expression, but she stays characteristically silent.

Let’s go.

It all comes to a head two months later.

They’ve been tasked with assassinating one of Fire’s nobles who’s been rumoured to have a taste for young, not always willing lovers. Unfortunately, his favourites seem come almost exclusively from the children studying and performing at the Daimyo’s court, and that can’t be allowed to go on. They initially decide to wait until the lord is going to be on the move next, impersonate unaffiliated bandits and sneak the assassination past the guards in the commotion of the raid, thus making the death impossible to be traced back to Konoha.

But then, Sakura proposes another idea.

Kakashi forgets, sometimes, that for all that she keeps up with them on missions, their newest recruit is barely ten years old.

He’s reluctant but eventually he agrees, and he and Yugao situate themselves on the tree closest to their target’s room while Genma’s by the entrance into the hotel, disguised as a beggar.

Through the window, they see Sakura walk into the noble’s room, gold-crusted tray crammed with an obnoxious amount of finger-foods and plates in hand, and they don’t need his chakra to be able to tell how their target’s interest spikes.

“My lord.” Sakura’s grainy voice greets them through the coms as she sets the tray on the bedside table and sets about pouring the wine and the tea with graceful motions that visibly enrapture the noble.

Their target trips over himself in an attempt to convince Sakura to use his given name, and falls for the trap hook, line, and sinker when he says; “Why don’t you eat with me? This is far too much for one man to finish, and you look like you could use a good meal.”

Does she? Kakashi wonders, and it’s not a thought he would’ve ever entertained before, but dressed in civilian clothes and free of the bulky ANBU uniform, Sakura is clearly on the malnourished side of petite. Shit.

While Kakashi absorbs that, Sakura demurs and gently refuses, and in a crafted show of concession, gives in and perches lightly on the bed. The noble digs into the feast while Sakura slowly nibbles on a few sushi rolls and engages the man in light, pointless conversation, and yet it’s still more than Kakashi’s heard her say in one go in the five months he's had her.

And then, their target sways, and within a split-second, something metallic flashes from the tips of Sakura’s fingers and retracts, but the noble stops moving.

There’s a breath, a sigh, and then a curt, “It’s done.”

“Good job.” Kakashi says, tuning back into the present, and stands. “Reckon you could stage it to look like an accident?”

“I could.” She agrees, adds, “But I need some help lifting him. He weighs a ton.”

Genma’s laughter reaches them over the comms, and then the door to the room opens and the brunet steps through, while Kakashi and Yugao move towards the window.

Sakura and Genma lug the man to the bathroom while Kakashi surveys the room, as well as the mostly-unfinished dinner. Then there’s a thud from the bathroom, a bark of startled laughter, and the two emerge, grinning.

Yugao raises an eyebrow.

“We gonna piss and shower with a corpse in the same room?” she asks, but it’s not a complaint, not really.

Genma shrugs and Sakura raises an eyebrow, seemingly not seeing the issue, and they both move towards the bed, leaving Yugao and Kakashi to find their own corner.

“What was poisoned?” Genma asks curiously, surveying the leftover food with no small amount of interest.

“Just the fugu.” Sakura says offhandedly. “Twice the lethal dose of tetrodotoxin. And my senbon were tipped in batrachotoxin.”

Genma’s eyes widen as he gapes, and his tone when he speaks is jealous, almost petulant. “The only golden poison frogs I ever found were far north in Kaminari no Kuni.” He – if Kakashi were a lesser man, he’d say pouts – complains. Sakura just shrugs, though her lip twitches upwards.

“Shimura was surprisingly tolerant of weird requests if they would make us better killers.” She explains, and Kakashi wonders if he should be concerned by how blasé the observation is.

Probably.

“My otouto regularly snuck reinforced kurotani paper and sumi ink into the monthly budgets. And our aniki used Wind Release in conjunction with his kenjutsu, so he went through katana after katana like they were kunai, since the metal the mass-produced weapons are made of isn’t designed for repeated chakra-channelling.” She shrugs again, seemingly unaware of the absolute silence that has fallen in the room. “Honestly, a twice-a-year mission to north of Lightning to catch a few frogs is quite tame, in comparison.”

“…Right.” Genma says at last, visibly reeling, then offers her a plate with dorayaki. “Pancake?”

The girl chuckles and shakes her head, “I’d prefer the umeboshi, if you don’t mind.”

A few minutes later, they’re all lounging in their target’s stupidly expensive hotel room, food almost completely gone, taking advantage of the luxuries noble upbringing can afford and a mission completed two weeks ahead of schedule.

Then, Kakashi speaks.

“Mongoose,” he calls, because he’s a professional, and they are still on a mission, technically, “you don’t have to wait for infiltration missions to speak. Your initiation is over, you’re firmly a member of Team Ro, you don’t need to hold yourself back.”

He sees the startled glances Yugao and Genma shoot him, whether for the casual tone or for actually addressing the issue, but Sakura, damn her, just looks amused.

“Maa,” she drawls after a few seconds, the most informal they’ve ever heard her, and Kakashi sees Genma twitch because the word is delivered in exactly the same bored, indolent tone that off-duty Kakashi uses, and the fact that it’s said by a voice two octaves higher is trippy, “I’m not keeping quiet for my sake, taicho, but for yours.”

And that- what?

Yugao is staring at the girl with an expression of pure shock, but Genma is visibly holding back laughter.

“Ah,” Kakashi starts, slightly thrown, because that is so not the response he was expecting, “then I’d prefer if you didn’t. From now on, don’t hold anything back.” he smiles, and it’s his patented fake- and-I-know-it smile, and adds, “That’s an order.”

“Mm.” the girl hums – hums! – and cocks her head, has the gall to look nonplussed and distantly amused. “Permission to speak freely, sir?” she asks, the paragon of innocence though it fools absolutely no one.

“I thought I just granted it.” He says flatly. “Ordered it, even.”

And then the girl shoots him a smile, swift and sure and slyer than a fox, and it’s an expression that shouldn’t look at home on a ten year old’s face but it somehow does.

“You might regret it.” And so saying, she lies down, turns on her side, her breathing evening out in seconds, and then she’s asleep in the way that only war-hardened, veteran shinobi usually manage.

Genma runs to the bathroom and hastily shuts the door, but even that doesn’t fully muffle the sound of his hysterical laughter.

Naturally, it would've been too easy if things had stayed simple, after that.

Sakura talks now, unhesitatingly and without scruples, and sometimes, Kakashi muses that she really may have been onto something when she joked that he might regret letting her speak freely.

It's not even that she's disrespectful or anything, but for somebody whose age is barely in the double-digits and who spent their impressionable childhood years under a ruthless conditioning program, surrounded by masked automatons, the girl has a sharp tongue and wicked wit.

Genma, with his infallible good humour even in the shadow ranks and permanent schadenfreude at Kakashi's expense, takes to Sakura's newly-revealed personality with nigh-sadistic glee. The two bicker and bitch and bluster and rope Yugao into roasting Kakashi at any and every opportunity, and Kakashi can't even get mad at them for it, damn him.

For her part, Yugao takes to Sakura like an older sister would, and it could almost be called cute how the kid always lays her bedroll beside the other kunoichi's, or makes sure she has her favourite flavour of granola on hand for when the swords-mistress runs out. There's camaraderie there, and Kakashi mentally reviews Sakura's associations - at least those he's aware of - and wonders whether having a female figure in her life is at least in part responsible for bringing the kid out of her shell.

As for Kakashi himself...well. He can begrudgingly admit that their newest recruit is fairly reliable, and she clearly, although, perhaps unconsciously, cares for the unit. The first time she notices him go without breakfast on a mission, she launches a granola bar at his head so fast that he only just catches it.

"Chakra is energy. How do you hope to replenish it if you don't give it fuel, taicho?" she admonishes, managing to convey stern, maternal disappointment despite being all of ten years old and half his height.

That's another thing - on missions, they're called by their masks - Yugao is Fox, Genma's Gecko, Kakashi's Hound-taicho, but in down-time or during training, the girl refers to the other two by their given names freely. Only sometimes, if she wants something or wants to tease, she'll tack on a cheeky 'senpai' at the end, which never fails to make Genma laugh and Yugao preen.

Kakashi is only ever 'taicho'.

She's never used his given name, nor any variation thereof. Simply 'Hound-taicho' on missions, and 'taicho' when not. He wonders, absently, why that distance stings.

It's not like he cares.

He just wishes for equality, is all.                                                                            

(he thinks of an evening in his apartment, five months after gaining Mongoose, thinks back to a particularly vicious skirmish with missing-nin that had left the whole team too exhausted to go and report, deciding to go their separate ways for the night and meet the next morning. He’d gone home, collapsed in his apartment and tried to ignore how the edges of his vision were slowly beginning to get swallowed by dark splotches.

“You didn't even attempt to dress your wounds? C'mon, taicho.”

The kunai was sent flying before Kakashi even registered that he’d consciously reached for it. He’d snapped to awareness, suddenly on-guard as he blinked away the sluggishness of blood-loss.

Then, he’d slumped.

Sakura was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, dressed in the standard uniform sans flak jacket and with a large, green bag in her hands that he vaguely recognised as his rarely-used first-aid kit.

“What are you even doing here?” He’d asked, though they both knew it's mostly rhetorical. “How did you get past the traps?”

Sakura had the nerve to shoot him a wry grin.

“Making sure our team leader doesn't bleed out.” She’d said, then stepped further into the room. “And I used the front door.”

She’d showed him a silver key, one he knew he’d given to Gai when he’d first moved in to his apartment, and Kakashi hated the fact that every interaction with the girl led to more questions than answers.

“So,” she’d started, faux lightly, before her tone turned a touch more serious, “are you going to cooperate and let me stitch up the gash in your stomach, or do I have to knock you out?”

Kakashi’d scoffed, but the action had made his side flare up with unexpected pain and with one last, baleful glare, he’d subsided.

“Good taicho.” The girl had the gall to say as she climbed onto the bed and started pulling things out of his med-kit.

Kakashi had been too tired to snarl, but he’d narrowed his eyes at his subordinate.

“I'm not a dog.” He’d pointed out sharply, then sucked in a quiet breath at the first sting of antiseptic.

“Really?” Sakura had asked absently and Kakashi watched as she threaded the needle with a mildly alarming efficiency. “And here I thought the Hatake Clan was linked with wolf spirits.”

Kakashi had wondered, not for the first time, how she knew some of the things she knew. But even his curiosity was not enough to stop his bitter scoff.

“That's just a legend. Besides, there is no more Hatake Clan.”

A sharp pain bloomed in his thigh and he realised the brat had pinched him!!

“You're still alive, aren't you? Despite your best efforts otherwise.”

Kakashi had blinked, stupefied.

Not even Gai had the nerve to call him out on his recklessness, making up for the lack of lectures with hovering over Kakashi after particularly shitty missions.

“What are you implying?”

“Not implying. I'm calling you out.” She’d corrected, and there was a new depth to her gaze that had made Kakashi shift minutely, suddenly uneasy. “If you're so eager to die, don't do it on a mission. Save your teammates the trauma.”

Kakashi had a sudden, very unpleasant flashback to something he’d once said to Obito and it stung.

"Who did you lose?" He’d asked quietly, because that level of bluntness can only come from previous experience, that much Kakashi knew.

Sakura had met his eyes, undaunted, and smiled. Only it wasn't really a smile, but a flash of bared teeth, and the expression had been sharp, cold, and edged with so much pain that Kakashi had felt it in his bones.

Everyone.)

A year after Danzo's death, eight months after Sakura joined Team Ro, and three months after Kakashi all but ordering her to talk, Kakashi gets his wish.

Now, he only regrets he hadn't been more careful in what he'd wished for.

It's a simple mission, as far as their usual go, and that probably should've been the first warning sign. Hiding in the treeline as extra security for a squad of three chunin and a jounin escorting some Hidden Frost noble and his entourage of eight is so far below their usual difficulty range that it's essentially a paid vacation. 

Naturally, everything goes wrong the moment they step into Frost.

All Kakashi hears is a soft thump, and when he glances over, he sees the jounin leader on his knees. It's only a few seconds later that he, and the rest of the chunin, register the kunai sticking out of the man's throat, having pierced straight through his trachea.

One of the noble's entourage turns, viper-quick, and one of the chunin falls, his throat slit.

It devolves into chaos after that.

Kakashi gives the signal, and, as one, his team converges on the newly-revealed shinobi. There's a massive pulse of chakra, and suddenly, there is no doubt that the eight men escorting the noble were anything but ninja, and high-level at that, if the sheer volume of unsealed chakra is anything to go by.

Yet, Kakashi barely manages to drive his tanto through one of the men's backs and take out his liver before he feels something snap around his neck and he sways, dizzy.

Metal. He thinks dazedly. Chakra restricting metal collar.

He earns a hit in the few seconds it takes him to recover, a punishing kick to the solar plexus, a katana through his foot, and a punch to his kidney, but then he snaps to attention and dispatches the man trying to incapacitate him.

The pain, an old friend at this point, helps ground him, and it distracts him from the gaping emptiness where his chakra used to be.

That's two down by his hand alone, but when he gathers his wits enough to look up, it's not enough to be hopeful, because when he was indisposed, more enemies  appeared, and that's when Kakashi knows for sure that this mission was more than it seemed from the very start. 

Instead of the earlier eight, there's now around a dozen enemy shinobi still kicking, six of the original squad down for the count, but that is still not enough for Kakashi to feel any degree of comfort because his squad isn't faring much better.

Yugao is staggering, a deep, purple-tinged wound bleeding-freely over her thigh, and Kakashi knows without a doubt that the viscous, purple fluid glistening around the cut is nothing other than poison, and a potent one at that. He sends a kunai at one of the shinobi she's grappling with, and she capitalises on his moment of inattention to drive her tanto through his heart.

But then, as if the action had sapped her last remaining energy, she crumbles, and does not move again.

When he looks over to Genma, the tokujo isn't down yet, but he's injured, visibly favouring his right side even as he throws deadly-accurate senbon at pressure points and executes immaculately-timed Doton. In any other fight, Kakashi would place his money on Genma, because the man is slippery and difficult to pin down on his worst days, yet here, he's struggling, two of his opponents looking eerily like the Kingin Kyōdai, rendering the poison his senbon are always tipped with ineffective.

And Sakura – there are four bodies around the girl, and she's still standing, not yet downed, but she's on the defensive, protecting the last surviving chunin from the original team, fighting off her own enemies while trying to distract those aiming for the chunin, and Kakashi can see how much that's limiting her movements.

He dodges a kunai with his name on the handle, turns and twists out of the way of a kick that would've dislodged his kneecap, ducks under the swipe of a tanto and curses when he's too slow to dodge the lightning jutsu and feels his muscles spasm, but he bears through the pain.

Still, when he opens his eyes, the odds haven't changed; ten enemy shinobi against three of his team – he counts his blessings when Sakura manages to distract the four on her long enough to send the chunin away and he bolts, fast, back in the direction of the Land of Fire, and Kakashi can only hope he'll make it in time to call for reinforcements.

He twists, brings his fist up in a feint then goes low, aims for his opponent's centre of balance, but the man dodges and Kakashi follows. Even without chakra, he's fast, and it takes three shuriken and a kick to the back of the nin's knees, then Kakashi's grasping his head and twisting-!

His opponent falls to the ground, limp, his neck snapped.

Kakashi looks up, intents to call out, regroup, retreat, but he catches the exact moment Genma loses and falls, and Sakura crumbles to her knees a second later, palms slapping pitifully against the ground, and-!

This is it. Kakashi thinks with grim certainty. This is how the legend of the great Team Ro ends.

And then it doesn't.

Because ropes rise from the ground, some the width of Kakashi's thumb, others thicker than his arm, but all sharper than the end of a kunai, only on second glance, they aren't ropes at all but roots.

They curl, and then unfurl like coiled snakes and strike, and within seconds, the field looks like a macabre knitting project gone wrong. The roots discriminate clearly and enter the enemy nins' bodies like they're made of butter, tearing through muscle and tissue and bone alike, entering around the liver and coming out through the lungs, or simply piercing straight through the heart, yet neither Kakashi nor Genma nor Yugao suffer so much as a scratch.

There's screaming, but even that dies out within seconds, and then, there's only the repeated thump of bodies hitting the ground and the steady drip-drop of blood.

Kakashi glances around, half expecting to see Tenzo, but in the back of his mind, he knows that that wasn't his old kouhai's Mokuton, oh no.

Sakura rises to her feet, and Kakashi notes that her mask had been knocked askew in the last skirmish, but for all the emotion the girl is showing, the absence of a physical mask makes little difference.

She heads over to Yugao and turns the kunoichi onto her back, then sets to methodically taking items from her pack – a vial of soldier pills, her canteen, gauze and disinfectant, and when Genma staggers over to her, Kakashi follows and instructs his ears to get with the program.

"-can't make the antidote now, not until I'm in my lab, maybe, but even then-!" he hears Genma panicking, but Sakura almost doesn't appear to be listening.

"Hold her down." she instructs instead, her tone flat yet authoritative, and Genma obeys probably more on automatic, though he loosens his grip on Yugao's legs when Sakura yanks up the other kunoichi's top and makes a careless cut on her lower stomach with blue-glowing fingers.

"What-?"

"I said," Sakura bites out, then uncorks her canteen and picks it up, "hold her down."

Then, before their eyes, she turns her right hand palm-up to the sky, the green glow of medical-ninjutsu surrounding it without a single hand-sign. She uses her left hand to tip her canteen over and pour out some water onto the chakra bubble in her right.

No water spills over or hits the ground, and Kakashi wonders.

"Even unconscious as she is, this won't be pleasant." She doesn't even glance up, just lays her right hand over the wound on Yugao's thigh and her left, now also glowing green, over the cut on her stomach. "Taicho, get her shoulders."

Kakashi obeys.

And then, as if that was the signal she needed, Sakura pushes the water in her right hand into Yugao's body.

Yugao thrashes and screams and writhes, and Kakashi and Genma have to tighten their hold, neither having expected such a pronounced reaction despite the warnings, but when Sakura draws the water out through the wound over Yugao's abdomen, it comes out with globs of purple caught in the green-tinged fluid.

"What is this?" Genma breathes, eyes wide as he watches their youngest member transfer the water and poison concoction to one of the pre-prepared test tubes.

"Medical ninjutsu." she replies simply, and repeats the process.

It takes four attempts before no more purple comes out with the water, and Sakura holds one of the test tubes out for Genma to take, only speaking when he hesitates.

"The technique draws out most of the poison, but it's not a cure-all. An antidote will still be needed when we get back to the Village."

Then, she tips two soldier pills into the palm of her hand and knocks them back, and Kakashi can feel the burst of chakra as her reserves are filled past their capacity, but the girl barely reacts. Instead, she bites her thumb and flashes through familiar seals, and the same volume of chakra she'd just chemically produced leaves her in a dizzying rush and in its place-!

Kakashi is really going to have words with his youngest team member.

"What the fuck...?" Genma manages quietly, barely louder than a whisper, and Kakashi echoes the sentiment when the smoke clears, revealing a ten-foot-tall tiger with canines the size of Kakashi's forearm.

"Sakura-hime!" the beast greets cheerfully, putting the really sharp teeth oh god right by Sakura's eye as it leans down to bump its forehead against the girl's.

"Eki-sama." Sakura replies calmly, raising a hand to scratch the enormous tiger behind the ear like one would a house cat. "I have a present for you. Multiple, actually"

The tiger rises to its full height and looks around, as if only just noticing the carnage around them.

"This whole feast for me?" it asks, voice trilling with pleasure. "This is why you're my favourite, hime."

Sakura, and Kakashi is about eighty percent convinced the girl is simply suicidal, just laughs.

"Don't tell Boshi-sama, but you're my favourite too." she teases - teases! - the beast of a summon, then adds sternly, "The ones in green are off-limits."

If it could, Kakashi is willing to bet the tiger would've rolled its eyes before it pounces away, and moments later, the sound of tearing flesh and the crunch of bone reaches the three of them as the tiger puts those truly fearsome teeth to their intended use.

Genma is looking a little green around the edges, and Kakashi turns to their youngest, hoping that his posture alone is enough for her to realise that he wants an explanation now.

Sakura shrugs.

"Mokuton is too distinctive. And their attack was too well-orchestrated to have been anything other than inside-intel."

The fact that she voices what he was thinking would’ve once been reassuring, but now…

“We have been a team,” Kakashi begins, careful to keep his voice steady even when all he wants is to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake, “for eight months. I understand trust issues, believe me, but there comes a point where keeping secrets becomes less a self-preservation tactic and more of self-sabotage. This, this here? This was the latter.”

Genma winces in sympathy at the mild but thorough bollocking he just gave the girl, but Sakura, if anything, looks even more unimpressed than she did before.

“They call you Kakashi of the Thousand Jutsu, no?” she asks idly, packing her canteen and gauze away, not even bothering to meet Kakashi’s accusatory gaze. “Have you shared all thousand with your team? Would Genma be able to list every technique you can pull off? I doubt it. But because of your Sharingan, nobody bats an eye.”

She rises to her feet then, and just as Kakashi thinks she’s going to sway and lose her balance, the massive tiger is suddenly there, stabilizing her before she could fall.

“Well,” she continues, and though her tone and her words are perfectly mild, there’s ice in her gaze that freezes Kakashi in place, “it just so happens that some of us earned our secrets through hard work instead of parting gifts.”

Then, she leans down and threads one arm under Yugao’s knees and wraps another around her shoulders, and, with deceptive strength, lifts the other kunoichi clear off the ground. The blood-and-gore streaked summon crouches without being asked and allows Sakura to deposit Yugao on its back, before she too clambers up and arranges Yugao’s head in her lap.

“Do try to keep up.” She tosses over her shoulder, then the tiger bounds off, disappearing into the forest.

Kakashi blinks.

There were at least three rules he can think of that his youngest teammate just broke, but, to his own surprise, he doubts he’s going to include that in his report. But he’ll have to, especially as she left before the clean-up could-

Kakashi stops. Glances around.

There is nothing to clean up.

Correction; there is blood, yes, entire pools of it, as well as scattered entrails here and there. But, apart from that, nothing. Kakashi would be hard-pressed to give an estimate of how many shinobi lost their lives there, much less what Village they belonged to. The only ones left are-

He swallows.

The fallen.

It’s a quiet affair as he and Genma seal away those they had been ordered to protect in black-rimmed scrolls, before heading in the direction Sakura and Yugao had disappeared in.

“What are you going to do?” Genma asks after a few minutes of silence tick by, and Kakashi doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to.

“I don’t know.” He admits, because it’s Genma and he’s tired. “I think that…before anything, I want to talk.”

Genma shoots him an odd look, but whether it’s at his uncharacteristic uncertainty or the words he’d uttered, he’s not sure.

A couple more minutes pass by, and then, Kakashi almost gets a heart-attack when two bear-sized tigers suddenly cross their path.

“Hime did say you would be a while,” one of them drawls, tail swishing slowly behind it, “but this was getting ridiculous.”

“Who are you?” Kakashi feels justified to ask, even though the answer seems obvious.

The one that hadn’t spoken bares its teeth, and the hair on Kakashi’s nape stands on end.

“Your ride, obviously. Do keep up, dog-breath.” It chastises, and Kakashi hears a grunt of surprise from his left and when he turns, Genma is perched awkwardly astride the first tiger, and Kakashi belatedly realises that it must’ve used his moment of distraction to sneak around and worm its way between Genma’s legs.

“You getting on, or do you need a written invitation?” the one that had insulted him demands, tail flicking imperiously. “Because I will leave you to walk, don’t test me.”

Before he can think twice about it, Kakashi gets on the summon’s back, pretending not to hear the muttered ‘finally’.

“Oh, also;” Genma’s ride adds, almost as an afterthought, “you are both invited to dinner at the hime’s den. To, as she put it, ‘clear the air’.”

And then, before either of them can react, the cats are suddenly racing at nigh-breakneck speed, the landscape around them merging into unrecognisable blurs of colour while the wind is sharp enough Kakashi has to close his eyes.

The speed and rhythmic thump of pawn on the ground help mask the sound of his incredulous chuckle.

He wonders, sometimes, how Minato had felt, having to look after a tetchy genius child while the man himself had barely been a teenager. Well, he reckons he is finally beginning to understand, now that Sakura is a permanent part of his team. Always a minimum of three steps ahead, always keeping her cards close to her chest, always reacting, never initiating.

He really hopes she won’t turn out to be some enemy plant or spy, because, Kami help him, he is actually starting to like the brat.

Chapter Text

They’d kept in touch.

First, it was with knots on threads, an incredibly old, rudimentary communication system Shin had found in a book back where the only problem in his life had been his forced servitude in ROOT. They’d both learnt it, more as a neat trick and a way to pass messages undetected than any real appreciation for the art, both ignorant that one day, it’d be their only means of communication, what with Shisui’s blindness.

Then, they’d realised that Shisui’s crows had near-perfect memory and could repeat certain sounds, so it became a game of designing coherent messages with the crows’ limited vocabulary.

Over time, that vocabulary expanded, but by that point, aliases and vague locations were a necessity more than a limitation. Four years of secret contact. Four years of not seeing each other. Four years of their only comfort being knowledge that the other was still alive. And then, two messages:

Imouto on mission. Otouto at school. All well. Miss you.

And the response:

In three days, meet at sundown by Hashirama’s feet. Miss you too.

And Shin, the chess master, the planner, the genius, listened.

He’s always been helpless when it came to Shisui, and this time is no different.

He slips out, undetected, through the tiny gap during the changeover of the guard rotation at the Main Gates, then, he’s running. He gets to the Valley of the End when the last rays of the setting sun are level with the waterfall, making it dance in shades of brilliant, refracted light, and the water vapour gleam rainbow. He watches, mesmerised, mind stuck musing the powerful yet transient nature of the scene.

And then-

“Shin.”

The single word, his name, is enough to make him freeze, a vice clenching around his lungs and heart, and he turns, slowly, as if any faster would break the illusion and he’d wake up.

But no.

Shisui is there.

He sees little more than a silhouette, illuminated as Shisui is by the setting sun, yet his brain still works in overtime to catalogue all the differences he can see.

For one, the Uchiha’s hair is longer. The unruly curls of ROOT have been allowed to grow out, and now they frame his face and brush his shoulders, a long fringe covering the harsh shape of blackout Aburame glasses. And then there’s what can only be the monk robe.

Shisui steps closer, out of the glare of the sun, and he’s within touching distance now, and Shin feels a lump in his throat, eyes desperately roaming, trying to commit as much to memory as he can. Then-!

“You idiot!” he chastises, smacking the Uchiha on the arm. “Do you not realise how dangerous this is?”

And Shisui laughs, surprised and bright, and reaches out for the hand that had clasped onto his sleeve instead of falling away and tugs Shin closer.

“I know, I know.” He agrees, good-naturedly, then tugs Shin down as he sits down on the riverbank. “But I had to see you.”

Shin snorts before he can stop himself, and Shisui has the grace to look bashful. 

“Well. You know what I mean.” He corrects, embarrassed, then shrugs. “But I can essentially see you with my chakra sense now, so...” 

Interest piqued, Shin crosses his legs and tilts his head.

“Like the Byakugan?” he asks, curious, and Shisui hums, considering.

“I… suppose that's a good way to put it. But instead of seeing the tenketsu and the pathways it's more like night vision goggles? Almost everything has chakra, so almost everything is lit up, but it's just... wrong. Fuzzy. No details.” 

In the back of his mind, the part that never sleeps, never rests, never stops, Shin’s already running through uses and applications and the ramifications of the realisation that blind doesn’t actually mean unseeing in Shisui’s case.

Then, he realises the raven is still waiting for a response, and defaults to humour as he teases;

“At least be glad you don't need a walking stick. I don't think your dignity could take it.”

Shisui laughs again, free and startled. 

“I haven't seen you properly in almost four years and all you've done so far is call me names and bully me!” he whines, though the smile stays on his face, so Shin knows he’s not actually complaining.

He scoffs.

“Please. You'd be dead without me.” Though he says it jokingly, Shisui sobers, a serious expression taking over his face.

“Yeah.” He admits, voice thick and a bittersweet smile on his face. “I really would be.”

And that- that was the exact opposite of what Shin was aiming for, and he groans. 

“I didn't- oh, come on.” he sighs, torn between guilty and exasperated. “You know I didn't mean anything by it.”

“I know.” Shisui reassures, but Shin doesn’t get the chance to relax before he continues. “But it doesn't change the fact that I literally owe you my life.” 

Shin facepalms. “Oh, Kami, just stop talking.” He groans. “You're so embarrassing.”

Shisui chuckles. “Bully!” he whines, then adopts a mischievous expression. “But, I guess, you could make it up to me.”

Shin is wary but he’s having too much fun to actually stop.

“Oh? Do tell.” 

Shisui holds his hands out, fingers pointed down and palms inclined towards Shin. 

“Will you let me do the 'blind monk' shtick properly? I want to see you.”

Shin swallows, and hopes it isn't as loud as it feels. Dangerous.

“I- yeah. Okay.” 

When Shisui's hands actually land on his face, Shin tries his hardest not to hold his breath. After a few seconds of gentle, ghosting touches, sweeping from his brow, to his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose and over his cupid's bow, Shin huffs a laugh. 

“You still have callouses.” He points out, not sure what he expected or what inspires the impromptu observation, but the statement is out before he can stop it.

He doesn't open his eyes, but he thinks Shisui smiles.

“Of course. What, did you think I've just been sitting around twiddling my thumbs? Lighting candles, praying and trying not to let the Sandaime's son recognise me, that's it?” Shisui laughs, and there's genuine joy in the sound. “The monks use chakra. The Guardians train there as well, not to mention that the eternal flame that surrounds the grounds is a chakra fire you have to tend to. And the monks train, too. Though they're more partial to katas, they don't particularly care if I use weapons when I do mine, as long as I don't brain myself on them.”

“How gracious of them.” Shin mutters, trying not to move his lips too much and disturb Shisui's fingers. 

Shisui snorts, and finally pulls away. The spell broken, Shin opens his eyes and immediately feels off-balance at how close Shisui is, and how open his expression is.

What is this?

“I just think they don’t want my brain-matter on their pristine floors.” Shisui jokes, but before Shin can reply, he adds, “Also, you need to eat more.”

Shin splutters.

“Don’t make that face!” Shisui chastises, despite the fact that he has no idea what kind of face Shin is making, and his hand flies up to poke Shin in the cheek with unerring accuracy. “I nearly cut myself on your cheekbones, and your wrist is far too thin!”

There’s a riposte on the tip of Shin’s tongue, a cutting ‘cancer will do that to you’, but he bites it back. That’s neither here nor there, and he doesn’t want their first meeting in years ruined by his goddamn lungs.

So he settles for a teasing, “Yes, mom.” Instead, complete with an exasperated eye-roll, but Shisui frowns.

“I always thought you were the mom.” He says, a propos nothing, and Shin doesn’t even try to mask his complete bafflement.

“What?”

“You know,” Shisui gestures abstractly, as if he doesn’t understand how Shin can require an explanation, “of our kids. Sakura and Sai. You were always more motherly.”

“Our kids.” Shin repeats incredulously, not quite able to get over the possessive adjective. “You’re nineteen. And we’re not married.”

“Oh, come on.” Shisui grins, but there’s something fragile in the expression, and his voice isn’t as strong as usual when he says, “We were a little married, in ROOT.”

Shin almost asks how one can be ‘a little’ married, but finds himself biting his tongue again.

Not just because he realises that the uncharacteristic vulnerability in Shisui’s voice is due to his confusion and abject refusal, but also because his stomach flips when Shisui says ‘we’ and ‘married’ in the same sentence.

And suddenly, he understands.

It doesn’t make the feeling go away. It doesn’t even make him feel better. All it does is add to the confusion surrounding the entire exchange, because what does one do when they find themselves in-

He cuts his thought process off, because the answer is clear.

Nothing.

He’s ill, badly so, aspergillosis swapped out for cancer, thanks to the overeager medics. Shisui is a presumed-dead elite jounin, currently masquerading as a blind monk, a hundred miles away from Konoha. Starting anything, as they were now, would just be cruel. That is, if Shisui even wanted to start anything.

Besides, all Shin’s ever known is blood and death and pain. He doesn’t know what to do with good things, good people.

(the seal on Sai’s tongue, the emptiness in Sakura’s eyes, the hollows where Shisui’s eyes used to be-!)

He’d ruin Shisui, and he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it.

So, he smiles, even though the expression is lost on Shisui, and does what he does best and acts.

“Yeah,” he manages, a good ten seconds too late to be natural, but his voice is steady, and the tremble in his hands visible only to him, “I suppose you’re right.”

But Shisui knows him, and the half-smile that persisted on his face through Shin’s realisation melts into a frown, though his words, when he speaks, don’t reflect it.

“Of course I am.” He agrees, flippant and cocksure like the fifteen-year-old Shin once knew. “Now, tell me, how are Sai and Sakura doing?”

“Oh, they’re monsters.” Shin laughs, grateful for the change of subject. “Sai’s in the Academy, set to be graduating next year. He got a bit of a shock at the start, what with the level of his classmates, but with some encouragement from Sakura, he’s now taken to trolling his teacher, and the Hokage by proxy.” Shin adamantly ignores the wave of warmth that hits him when Shisui laughs. “And Sakura’s been poached for ANBU. She’s actually on your cousin’s old team, and… I think they’re good for her.”

“She’s on Team Ro? With Hatake-senpai as her taicho?” Shisui asks, eyebrows raised and tone disbelieving. “Isn’t that a bit cruel of the Sandaime, giving him another child genius, considering what the Village at large thinks happened with the last one?”

Shin shrugs, and is for once glad for Shisui’s blindness. He isn’t sure he wants the other to see the look on his face just then.

“I don’t think the Hokage is particularly concerned about his shinobi’s ‘feelings’.” He replies simply, unable to fully keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Shisui falls silent for a few seconds, seeming contemplative, and Shin wonders whether he’s said too much.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” The Uchiha says eventually, surprising Shin. “And I’ll get the full story out of you at some point.”

Shin huffs, amused despite himself.

Of course, just like he knows Shisui, Shisui knows him. It was silly of him to think that the other wouldn’t notice his odd reaction.

“Sure, whatever you say.” He agrees glibly, knowing that it’ll likely be a long time before that will happen.

They drift from topic to topic after that. Shisui all but demands a full play-by-play of their takedown of Danzo, Shin wants a retelling with a comparable level of detail of the Uchiha’s time at the Fire Temple, and then it’s little stories and anecdotes and memories and ‘you’ll never guess what’s, and they only realise how much time has passed when Shin can’t stifle a full-body shiver, as if only just realising how much the temperature has dropped.

“Oh, wow.” Shisui murmurs, and then, before Shin can react, there’s a small bonfire crackling merrily before them, mere inches from where his feet are stretched out. Another shiver wrecks his frame at the sudden heat, and Shisui’s arm wraps around his shoulders seemingly on automatic, and Shin belatedly realises how they’d drifted closer to each other as the hours passed by, now sitting thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder on the riverbank.

He should head home. It’s probably around three in the morning. He could make it back before dawn.

But, when Shisui turns to him with a hopeful expression and asks him to ‘stay a little longer’, Shin can do little but agree.

Over the years, he’s gotten good at eliminating weaknesses. Hard to care about your own life when you’re constantly a breath away from death. But no matter what he did, no matter how much of his humanity was stripped, three weaknesses remain.

And Shisui is the biggest one of them all.

Sakura drops Yugao off at the hospital, hands the vial containing the poison to a baffled nurse, and high-tails it back home to hopefully explain the situation to Shin and get Sai as far away from their apartment as possible.

When she gets home, Shin is already there, and there’s a small, yet unbelievably bright smile on his face, and the expression makes him look years younger. There’s only ever been one person who was able to change Shin’s mood quite so drastically, and Sakura manages a little smile herself, reassured by the knowledge of Shisui’s continued well-being, indirect as the confirmation may be.

There had been tension before them for a few months, though they had both been careful to keep it down when Sai was present, but Sakura still remembers the situation as if it had been yesterday rather than almost half a year ago.

Sakura opens the door to their apartment and momentarily freezes.

There is another boy apart from Sai in their living room. A familiar boy, even if the only part of his face she can see is covered by a high collar and dark glasses.

Shino.

"Aneue!" Sai doesn't quite jump to his feet, but there's a note of panic in his voice that worries Sakura. Since when was Sai afraid of her?

"Tadaima, Sai-chan." She greets warmly, dropping her pack by the door and walks further into the house, pausing to ruffle Sai's hair when she gets close enough, and she feels her brother relax under her hand. "Who's your friend?"

There. Sai tenses again, and Sakura barely refrains from frowning.

"Aburame Shino-san. We were paired for a project and..." Sai trails off, and somehow manages to fidget despite staying perfectly still.

"And discovered that you get along?" She finishes teasingly, making sure to keep the pressure of her hand on Sai's head gentle and comforting and not let her confusion at her brother's behaviour show in her voice.

Again, Sai relaxes, and mutters a quiet 'hai'.

"Well, I'm assuming you haven't eaten?" she asks rhetorically, then turns to Shino. "How do you feel about oyakodon, Aburame-kun?"

"My feelings should be the least relevant considering I am the one imposing on your hospitality." Shino murmurs, and Sakura is amused and endeared to note that his voice is a good half an octave higher, and lacking the drone-like tone she remembered from her timeline. "However, oyakodon is perfectly acceptable. And, forgive me, but I do not know your name. Why? Because Sai-san only ever refers to you as 'aneue'."

Sakura laughs, she can't help herself. Apparently, no matter what timeline she's in, she's always going to get saddled with some emotionally-stunted preteens.

Luckily, she has experience in this field, so she keeps her smile warm and patient and doesn't remark on Shino's quirk, recognising it for the nervous tick that it is.

"Your presence is not an imposition, Aburame-kun. And I am Sakura, and trust me, there's nothing to forgive. You're perfectly correct in your observation that Sai-chan doesn't refer to me by name, so there's no way for you to have known."

Shino nods, and the line of his shoulders softens as he too seems to release some tension. "Thank you, Sakura-san."

Sakura waves him off and heads towards the kitchen, already mentally running through the list of ingredients she's going to need for the meal she's planning.

Half-way through chopping the onion, Sai comes up to her, his face perfectly blank but his posture suspiciously resigned.

"I'm sorry, aneue." he murmurs, stopping an arm's length away but conspicuously not touching, as if unsure he's welcome. "If I had known you'd be back from your mission early, I wouldn't have invited Shino-san."

Sakura slowly sets the knife down and breathes out through her nose, counting back from ten before she faces the raven.

"And why not?" she asks, voice carefully neutral, even as her mind is running through scenarios and she has a suspicion she's not going to like Sai's answer.

"Because- because I failed." Sai replies, a tiny frown creasing his brows as he regards her. "Because I got attached."

"Sai-chan," Sakura starts, then cuts herself off, taking a deep breath and biting back the incredulous what the everloving fuck-?! that threatens to escape. "Sai-chan, why would you making a friend be a problem?"

"Because aniki said," Sakura sees red, "he said that I shouldn't bother making friends because we don't know how long the Hokage's benevolence will last for. And that I'll likely be poached for ANBU as soon as I make chunin."

"Aniki said that, huh." she seethes, only belatedly realising that she's oozing Killing Intent when she sees Shino freeze in her periphery.

"Sai." she begins once she reins her anger in, and the lack of the -chan and her serious voice make her brother snap to attention. "Normally, I'd present a united front with Shin. But this one time, he couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried."

Then, because she thinks it's time, she barrels on.

"When I threw you out of the Hokage's office window, I did so to make a deal. My service to the Village, in exchange for your normal childhood and Shin's treatment. As long as I stay in Sarutobi's good graces, he can't touch you. You'll only end up in ANBU if you choose to. So make friends in the Academy. Stay a genin as long as you wish. Have sleep-overs. Start silly rivalries. Live."

Sai is staring at her with wide eyes that glisten wetly, but Sakura's not done.

"I love you, otouto. I want you to be happy."

Then, between one second and the next, there're arms wrapped around her waist and moisture in the crook of her neck, then Sai is darting away and heading back towards Shino, his back straight and a new confidence in his step.

Sakura stays long enough to serve both boys with steaming bowls, then she heads to her room and hops out the window, and really, there's only one destination on her mind.

She's at the hospital in minutes.

She throws open the window to Shin's room and barges in, ignoring his startled 'Sakura? What on earth-?' as she marches up to his bed and pins him with a sharp glare.

"Tell me, aniki," she murmurs, her voice deadly calm despite the red haze tinging her vision, "what happened to 'we're doing this so Sai has a chance at a childhood'?"

Shin frowns, visibly baffled. "What are you talking about? Nothing happened, what-?"

"Then why," Sakura cuts him off, not in the mood to wait for him to figure out why she's angry, "did you tell Sai that he shouldn't bother making friends?"

Shin freezes, and comprehension dawns on his face, but Sakura doesn't give him a chance to try and talk his way out of this.

"I get that this situation isn't ideal. That being reduced from a jounin-level secret mastermind who could go toe-to-toe with Uchiha geniuses and bring down a war-hawk, to a bedridden civilian is a lot to adjust to. I get that. But how awful a person do you have to be to take that frustration out on Sai?!"

She’d bollocked Shin, then. Thoroughly and mercilessly shamed him for his behaviour towards Sai, and had only stopped when she felt her control slip and Killing Intent began to leak out again.

They were distant, after that, sharper and blunter with each other, but Sai did tell her, with no small amount of bewilderment in his voice, that Shin had come to him to apologise and explain that he’d been wrong.

Sai’s friendship with Shino continued.

It is that friendship that Sakura plans to exploit now.

She’s about 85% sure that Sai is going to take her spot on Team 7 when he graduates. That means, that if everything else goes the same, he’ll get Kakashi as his sensei. And if they want Sai to be able to leave ROOT behind, then Kakashi cannot meet Sai now.

“Aniki,” she calls into the flat, using the term for the first time in months, and Shin must be very happy because the smile on his face grows as he turns towards her, an expectant expression on his face, “I need your help.”

Genma watches Kakashi the whole way back, but for all that the ANBU mask hides his face, Genma could write a novel about what his Captain is thinking based on the Copy-nin's posture alone.

Kakashi hasn't taken Sakura's little "surprise" well. His 'a team shouldn't keep secrets' spiel had been unexpected and, frankly, Genma privately thought Sakura had been justified in calling him out for his hypocrisy, but the more he thinks about it, the more he can see where Kakashi was coming from.

Bypassing the can of worms that is the Yamato-Rin comparison that his brain immediately draws, he's willing to bet that the real issue Kakashi's battling with is that Sakura was a force to be reckoned with before she revealed the Mokuton and impossible medical-ninjutsu. For all that she's around half their age (almost a third, in Genma's case), Sakura has always been able to hold her own in spars. Despite being generally mild-mannered, there's a certain ruthlessness to the girl whenever she fights that seems to demand she press every advantage available to her to the max.

He's seen her use chili-bombs when fighting Kakashi, has seen her throw dirt in Yugao's eyes, disorient him using a vertigo genjutsu so he couldn't aim his senbon properly. All in all, Sakura is a study in deceptive competence, and he's really wishing Kakashi had realised that sooner.

Still.

Going by Kakashi’s posture, he’s taken this case of misinformation personally.

Genma stifles a groan. When Kakashi gets personal, he gets mean, and Genma’s not sure their team can survive that.

He startles when the tigers suddenly stop dead and all but throw him and Kakashi off their backs.

“The Village is fiv- no, fifteen minutes’ run that way.” The one that had been carrying Kakashi announces imperiously, and Genma nods in acknowledgement when Kakashi seems keen to pretend deaf.

The summons may not have been the most easy-going, but he has a feeling that disrespecting them is the last thing they need.

He’s proven right not two seconds later.

“Are you sure?” the one Genma had ridden asks, features screwed up in what he hesitantly labels as the feline equivalent of a frown, before it casts him and Kakashi an assessing glance. “Sakura-hime is faster than Kagami-sama was, that’s true, but surely they’re not that slow?”

Genma freezes.

There’s been only one Kagami that he’s vaguely aware of, and judging by the way Kakashi tenses even further, he’s made the same connection.

But what on earth is Sakura doing with an Uchiha summoning contract?

The one that had carried Kakashi sniffs imperiously.

“That one,” it inclines its head to point at Kakashi, “bled all over my flank. And with how loud he’s thinking, I don’t think he can spare the energy to run much faster than a stumbling cub.”

And with that cutting assessment, it disappears in a cloud of smoke.

“Wait-!” Genma calls out before the other one can follow suit, and his tiger stops, tilting its head in a clear ‘go on’, and he hastens to obey. “Thank you.” He manages, clears his throat, and swallows. Unlike Kakashi, he does have some self-preservation. “For- the transport. May I ask what you are called?”

The tiger seems briefly surprised, then amused. “My brother is Yū. I am Ryūnosuke. But,” it sidles closer, nudging at Genma’s hand with its nose and he hesitantly places it on top of its head, fingers twitching before he gathers his courage and lightly scratches around the ear. “You may call me Ryū.”

Then, with a final swish of its tail and what Genma is about 93% sure is a wink, Ryū also disappears.

“What was that?” Kakashi asks sharply, and Genma doesn’t have to ask to know what he’s referring to.

He sighs.

“It’s not wise to antagonise everyone you meet.” He shoots back, tired, and, now that he’s not being carried and has to carry his own weight, aching all over. “Especially not summons. And definitely not noble Uchiha summons.”

Kakashi’s face screws up at that, but he doesn’t comment, turning instead in the direction Yū had indicated for the Village.

(Out of what Genma’s willing to bet is almost entirely spite, they make it to the Main Gates in ten minutes.)

When they get to the hospital, they learn that Yugao is set to be discharged within a few hours, despite still being unconscious. The bulk of the poison had been removed, so the antidote is more precautionary than anything, as the nurses assure them that Yugao’s immune system could do the job for them if given the time, but it’ll eliminate any potential risk, so they’d recommend it.

Naturally, they opt for the antidote.

Kakashi leaves the hospital within minutes, and Genma sighs and asks one of the nurses to send a genin messenger for him when Yugao does wake, and he too heads home, eager to wash the mission grime off and maybe disinfect his wounds, if he has energy left.

When the messenger comes, Genma takes a detour to Kakashi’s place and all but drags the man back to their teammate’s room, though when they get there, Yugao insists that she’s well enough to go to Yakiniku instead.

(privately, Genma thinks she simply doesn’t want to see the look of abject misery and annoyance on Kakashi’s face at the prospect of having to spend any more time in the hospital than absolutely necessary. Genma can understand why.)

In Yakiniku, they debrief Yugao as much as they can, and Genma wishes for a camera, because the look on her face is too complex for words, yet manages to reflect everything he was feeling perfectly.

“I got this.” Kakashi announces, a propos nothing, holding up a single, square note. “It flew into my room as a bird about two hours ago.”

Genma blinks.

The paper…is just a piece of paper.

He shoots Kakashi an odd look. Maybe there was some airborne drug in the air when they went to get Yugao?

Then, he glances at the note.

‘Team dinner, 6pm tomorrow, at this address.

P.S. don’t be late, taicho!’

“That’s…the Barracks.” Genma says, before he can stop himself. He has half a mind to correct himself, but in the end, doesn’t bother. Kakashi and Yugao both know exactly what he means, and neither are about to criticize him for his choice of language, especially when all three know it’s accurate.

After all, the subsidized genin housing was never going to be the lap of luxury.

But what’s their ANBU teammate doing there?

“Why does Sakura-chan live there?” Yugao asks no-one in particular, voicing Genma’s thoughts.

“I suppose we’ll see.” Kakashi replies cryptically, and pockets the note.

Then, without leaving a single yen, like the jackass he is, he disappears.

The next evening, all three jounin meet in front of the building indicated in the note, at six sharp. It says something about how seriously Kakashi is taking this that he actually listened and came on time, habitual lateness nowhere to be found. They climb the stairs together, and come to a stop before the door marked 3C, yet no-one reaches out to knock. There's a hesitance weighing heavy in the air, a question of 'what will this change' that none of them wants to voice. 

Because it will change something, that's for sure. 

Genma raises a hand, but before his knuckles can connect with the wood, the door swings open, and all three fight hard not to recoil. 

The first thing that greets them is the mouth-watering aroma of homemade food, which, in itself, is not unusual, though the combination of scents would doubtless make an Akimichi proud and give an Inuzuka a headache. 

Then, their attention falls on the person who'd opened the door, and it's decidedly not Sakura. 

A boy, likely in his mid-teens, with silver hair and flinty graphite eyes, dressed in an oversized burgundy sweater and black lounge pants stands before them.

The expression on his face is less that of a welcoming host and more of a merchant assessing his wares – wary, watchful eyes flicker from Kakashi to Yugao to Genma, picking out weaknesses and seemingly seeing into their very souls.

Yet, the third and most disquieting thing of all is the stench of hospital and death that clings to every inch of the boy’s skin and clothing, assaulting their senses with the very smell shinobi quickly learn to actively avoid.

Once the realisation of not-right registers in their minds, it's suddenly easier to see that the red staining his cheeks is pigment instead of a natural flush. Or that his eyes are sunken, or that his hair is thin; that the overlarge sweater is there less for comfort and more to hide bony wrists and even bonier fingers, and cover as much as possible of a body that is visibly underweight from sickness. 

"Aniki, stop making that face." A familiar voice calls out from deeper within the flat, and the expression on the boy's face finally shifts. 

"What face?" He asks, and though his eyes never leave Kakashi's team, the corner of his mouth quirks up. "You can't even see my face."

"I don't have to be able to see you to know what you're doing." Sakura corrects, and there's humour in her words, though they sound chastising. "Let our guests in, please."

When the teen finally moves aside and Kakashi has to step past him, he tries very hard not to make it obvious that he's holding his breath. 

Then, he's shocked for an entirely different reason.

He's seen subsidised genin housing. He's lived in the chunin version for a few years, has regularly guarded his sensei’s son and seen his 'housing situation'. Although the building they’re in is definitely right, and the corridor outside is appropriately dingy, the apartment he steps into could not be further from the standard genin flat if it tried.

For one, it feels like a home.

The windows are bare, stripped of any shutters or curtains, and clean, which allows the setting afternoon sun to illuminate the walls painted in its colours, giving the room a warm, welcoming glow. Every inch of furniture is covered with something soft – from the sofa throws to the cushions on the floor, to plush carpets and frilly poufs, everything exudes comfort in a way shinobi seldom manage. The kitchen is the only thing that doesn't fit the theme, old and rickety as it is, but the wall above the stove and counters is covered with pages and pages of drawings and ink paintings, successfully drawing attention away from the less-than-stellar appliances.

Yet what draws Kakashi's eye the most – and, judging by Gemma's stilted breath, he's not the only one to notice – is the only art piece in the living room. Placed where one would normally find a TV, four masks hang from the wall, arranged in a diamond-shape. One azure, one vermilion, one pure white and one an oppressive black. Though the animals on the masks don't match, their colours and placements speak for themselves. Kakashi's eyes flit over the dog mask, to the wolf, then the bird. Lastly, they fall on the unknown, vaguely rodent-like shape, and he frowns.

Assembling the Shishin? For anybody who doesn't know what they did, it's just quirky decoration, but... His eyes flicker from Sakura, to the nameless teen, and he catches the last bit of a silent conversation between the two, before his youngest recruit turns back to the stove and her brother closes the door and flashes them a perfectly false, inviting smile. For them... For them, it's a warning. A reminder of what they can do. 

"I love what you've done with the place." Genma comments idly, perfectly blasé, trademark senbon in place, giving the flat an obvious once-over, and Kakashi can’t tell whether the comment is genuine or a dig for information.

Sakura laughs, short and startled, and starts separating the food she’s preparing into smaller bowls. 

"Perks of having an artist in the family." She replies, and it's light and cheeky and nothing like her brother, or her mission persona. "Free interior design."

Yugao’s eyes slant to the thus-nameless teen, and he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not me. Our otouto’s the artist.” He answers the unvoiced question, and Kakashi hums.

“Aniki can just about finger-paint without incident, we prefer not to tempt fate.” Sakura tacks on, and she’s still teasing, relaxed, as if they’re not here to talk about her pulling out an extinct Nature Transformation after a year of acquaintance.

“I feel attacked.” The teen replies, in perfect deadpan, his expression betraying no emotion, yet Sakura just laughs again and turns to the low table Kakashi only just notices, arms laden with bowls.

“Forgive my manners earlier,” she apologises as she sets the food down on the chabudai and straightens, “but I didn’t trust myself to step away from the food in case I burned it.”

She gestures to the table, curiously six-seating for, to Kakashi’s knowledge, a ‘family’ of three.

“Let’s sit down, and I’ll do introductions!”

When they all move to obey, she begins.

“This is Shin, my aniki. Shin, this is Shiranui Genma, Uzuki Yugao, and Hatake Kakashi, my taicho.”

“A pleasure.” Shin replies, dry and wry as Genma at his worst, but with a warm (fake) smile on his face.

It settles down from there, and they make a start on their food after a quick mutter of itadakimasu. After he’s tried everything from the liberal spread of dishes Sakura has laid out – including fried eggplant, and there’s a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind, but he ignores it – Kakashi has to grudgingly admit that Sakura can cook. That in itself would be odd considering she’s ANBU, but adding in the fact that she’s ex-ROOT and eleven years old at that, it just doesn’t make sense.

Then, Yugao speaks, and Kakashi resigns himself to things not making sense for the rest of the dinner.

 “You were in ROOT, weren’t you?” she asks, and Kakashi notes the surprised look Sakura shoots him, though he’s almost sure it goes unnoticed by the rest of their team. She’s spoken openly about Shimura’s attitude to his agents, so he doesn’t know what Yugao is digging for. Though he knows intimately what the expression on Sakura’s face means.

She thought I told them.

But whatever Sakura may think of him having kept that particular fact to himself, she doesn’t voice it, choosing instead to nod.

“Yes. I was.” She admits simply, sipping at her tea while Yugao frowns.

“You were involved in Shimura’s trial somehow.” Genma adds on, head tilted in a way Kakashi’s grown to be wary of.

Sakura hums, while her brother just observes, quiet and judging, and that is somehow worse.

“Moreso in the circumstances that led up to his trial, but yes.” She corrects, and Kakashi thinks he hears a snort from Shin, but when he glances over, the teen’s expression hasn’t changed; he’s still serious, eyes trained on his sister.

“You look surprised.” Yugao points out, narrowing her eyes, and Kakashi almost startles.

To him, Sakura’s expression hadn’t changed, but now that Yugao points it out, he can see the minute widening of emerald eyes and the tiny downwards quirk to her lips.

“I just thought you knew this, is all.” She says with a frown of her own, then adds in a light shrug, as if dismissing her words.

“How would we have known, though?” Yugao presses, and Kakashi reckons he shouldn’t have encouraged the senpai-kouhai dynamic between his two female teammates quite as much as he had, because there is deep and genuine concern in Yugao’s voice now.

Sakura’s eyes flicker to him, just for a second, then she looks down at the table, shrugging again, and Kakashi knows she won’t betray him.

“I don’t know.” She deflects, offering the table a wry smile. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have expected anything.”

A breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding escapes him, and Kakashi feels himself relax.

“She assumed your taicho would’ve told you, as Hatake-san was in the Hokage’s office when we brought in the evidence against Shimura.”

Fuck.

With how intently he’d been studying Sakura and gauging her reaction, he’d completely forgotten about her ‘brother’, and now, the damning words are out there, and Kakashi can feel Yugao and Genma staring at him in disbelief.

“You were there?!” Genma demands, voice rising at the end in his incredulity. “I thought you were the one to apprehend Shimura and learned about it that way, not that you were there the whole time!”

Yugao is the opposite – calm and still, only her eyes, wide and accusative, betraying her reaction.

“You let me treat someone who’d brought down the most untouchable man in generations like a child.” She starts quietly, and he can almost see the gears turning in her mind. “All this time, you knew that the senpai-kouhai dynamic was a farce, but you didn’t-!” she cuts herself off with a snort, looking down. “And there I was, like a fool, thinking that we can help this time, in a way we failed to help Itachi. Tch.”

The disdain and disappointment he hears in her voice tears into him even more than Genma’s accusation.

“For the record, senpai,” Sakura speaks up, laying a gentle hand over the fist Yugao has balled on the table, “I appreciate our dynamic. I’d be very happy if it could continue.”

“But you’re not the child I’ve been treating you as.” Yugao argues, her eyes glistening oddly. “The senpai-kouhai relation is based on superior experience and the resulting power imbalance, but there isn’t one between us. Hell, if there is, it might even go the other way.”

“You’re right, I’m not a child.” Sakura admits quietly, but she doesn’t avert her gaze. “But you let me feel like I could be. I don’t have to always watch myself, or be constantly vigilant, and that’s liberating in ways I don’t know how to explain, but all I know is that I’d be devastated to lose my older sister.”

At this point, it’s undeniable that Yugao’s eyes are glistening wetly because she’s on the verge of tears. But, after Sakura’s impromptu speech, she smiles, relaxing her fist to clasp hands with their youngest teammate instead. Sakura tugs her up, mutters a quick ‘excuse us’, and shepherds Yugao out of the dining area and into one of the adjoining rooms, which Kakashi presumes is the bedroom.

Genma manages a small smile at the interaction, but he’s still glaring at Kakashi.

“I’m sure you have a reason.” The tokujo says, mild as could be, even when his eyes are shooting daggers at him when he meets them. “So, let’s hear it.”

Kakashi sighs.

“I thought it might cause people to panic if they knew that Shimura was brought down by children.” He explains, which is part of the reasoning, at least. He can’t exactly go around admitting to a Hokage-issued gag-order or that the finer details of Shimura’s takedown had…slipped his mind once the man was buried six feet under.

Yet, what greets his words is a snort, and this time, there is no doubt that it comes from Shin.

“That’s your explanation, yet you got so precious when Sakura didn’t tell you about her Mokuton?” he asks, and it’s not snide, not at all, but the word-choice grates at Kakashi.

“Endangering your teammates’ lives by not letting them know of the full extent of your abilities is very much deserving of getting ‘precious’ over.” He shoots back, tone betraying nothing, but Genma shifts a little beside him, doubtless able to tell just how close he is to snapping at a kid half his age.

“Perhaps.” Shin allows, then his eyes narrow. “But recall your explanation, and look at the situation from Sakura’s perspective. At ten years old, she was skilled enough to make it to ANBU. And that was without revealing that she’s a Mokuton user. Now, you know that she does, in fact, wield the Shodaime’s Mokuton, and is the second ever naturally-occurring Wood Release wielder in Konohagakure’s history. Third, in total, but I refuse to count the Sannin’s experiment as ‘natural’.”

He shouldn’t know this, he shouldnotknowthis-!

“That alone would’ve been enough to put a loose noose around her neck, no? Now, add to it the fact that she’s proficient in medical ninjutsu. What does that make you think of?”

“Senju.” Genma breathes, eyes wide, and Shin smiles humourlessly.

“Precisely.” He agrees. “So, to set the scene: your teammate is an ex-ROOT, ex-Danzo’s personal guard, who ultimately betrayed him and brought the Hokage enough incriminating information to bury Shimura ten times over. She’s part of the most infamous ANBU team to come out of the last decade. And she wields the Mokuton, has Tsunade-worthy chakra control and medical ninjutsu. And all that, while being younger than current genin.”

Those sharp eyes turn to Kakashi, and the expression on the teen’s face is nothing short of a challenge.

“Don’t you think it might’ve caused people to panic if they knew the whole story?” he asks, shamelessly throwing Kakashi’s words back in his face. “You’ve known Uzuki and Shiranui-san for around a decade and you haven’t told them everything about their teammate, yet you expected Sakura to trust you with everything after a few measly months?”

A short silence falls as they all process the teen’s words, then Kakashi sits up at the same time as Shin opens his mouth, doubtless to keep going, to grab the metaphorical knife he’s shoved into Kakashi’s heart and twist.

And then-

“Aniki, that’s enough.”

Kakashi freezes.

Sometime during their argument, Sakura and Yugao remerged from the bedroom, unnoticed by the three men. Kakashi turns, neck stiff and arms heavy, yet when he looks at Sakura, he understands his reaction.

Sakura’s expression is completely blank, but her words are an order. A general’s order, impossible to disobey, brimming with authority and threat, and when he closes his eyes and reaches out with his chakra sense, he flinches.

Sakura’s chakra is a roiling, vicious, violent mess, and all of it is pointed with nigh-surgical precision at Shin.

Killing Intent. Kakashi realises with a start. Yet, despite being so meticulously controlled and restrained, it’s so potent that its shockwaves alone froze him in place so absolutely that a Nara would be envious. 

Shin takes a careful, measured breath, and his muscles seem to visibly unlock. He hangs his head, takes another breath, and this one rattles slightly, though Kakashi is still marvelling at the teen’s composure.

“My apologies.” Shin murmurs, the words sounding hollow, without even a trace of sincerity. “I overstepped.”

Kakashi’s eyes follow Sakura as she steps over to the table and sits down again in her previous seat, reaching casually for the gyoza.

Yugao was wrong. Kakashi realises with a start, thinking of everything he knows about the girl. Medical ninjutsu, Mokuton, noble summons, yet with enough all-around skill to not need any of those for an entire year in ANBU and still be formidable. The ability to use Killing Intent to mimic the Shadow Possession, and the complete ruthlessness needed to use the aforementioned ability on her own brother.

She’s not like Itachi at all. Being able to switch between personalities, to go months in nigh-complete silence, only to reveal a personality so teasing and lively as if it had never experienced ROOT, or Shimura’s conditioning programme. A chameleon, blending in with her surroundings, twisting her ‘self’ and her abilities to best fit and complement whatever situation she finds herself in. A liar so adept at lying, at hiding, she doesn’t even realise she is lying; to her teammates, to the kage, to the world, to herself.

She’s in a completely different league.

“And your other brother?” Yugao asks, and she at least seems unruffled, managing to sound genuinely interested and polite and smiling encouragingly at Sakura, who appears completely ignorant to Kakashi’s realisations.

“He’s at a friend’s, unfortunately – they’ve got a group project to do at the Academy, so he won’t be eating with us tonight.” Sakura explains, and the apologetic expression on her face is almost believable.

Almost.

It doesn’t escape Kakashi’s notice that they have both avoided using the mysterious brother’s name, or giving any concrete details. Even with Shin, his name was only revealed once Sakura decided to reveal it. And that –

“You can just say you don’t want us to meet him.” Kakashi says before he can quite stop himself, his words mild but the accusation beneath sharp enough to make Genma glance at him like he’s grown a second head. It sounds a lot like what he’d said all those months ago when he’d all but ordered Sakura to speak her mind when on missions, but Sakura just blinks.

“Okay.” She replies, unfazed. “We didn’t want you to meet him.”

What.

There’s a sudden laugh, and it’s harsh and rough around the edges as if the person is unused to laughing, and it takes Kakashi a few seconds to realise that it’s coming from Shin. It seems the shock of Sakura’s reprimand has worn off, and the teen is rearing to go for another round of verbal showdown.

“You can’t all but order us – in our own home, as well, mind – to tell the truth, and then get offended when we do. That’s not how the world works, Hatake-san.” He chastises, and Kakashi is glad for his mask because he can feel his face heating up.

“I am not offended,” he begins, but is quickly cut off.

“Why not?” Genma asks, and Kakashi realises a tad belatedly that the question is directed at the siblings instead of at him. “Why didn’t you want us to meet your brother? If you don’t mind explaining?”

Sakura smiles at that, and Kakashi wonders whether she’s talked with her summons since coming home. Genma’s oddly…pandering attitude is new, and Kakashi’s not sure how its being received by others. He, for one, is not a fan.

But Sakura must appreciate it, because she acquiesces and explains.

“Our otouto will be graduating next year. Outside of ANBU, you’re all jounin. While you may not be jounin-sensei, you do have contact with your rank-mates. And if you knew one of your comrades would get an ex-ROOT revolutionary who’s easily chunin-level despite being fresh out of the Academy, could you really stay silent about it?”

Kakashi blinks.

When that doesn’t help, he looks around, and inwardly breathes a sigh of relief when he notes Yugao and Genma are equally flabbergasted.

“So… you didn’t want us to meet your brother today…to avoid us telling his jounin-sensei about his unique circumstances when he graduates next year?” Yugao asks, as if to double-check, eyebrows soaring when Sakura just nods.

“Couldn’t you have just asked us not to tell?” Genma demands, seemingly torn between exasperation and laughter.

Sakura sighs, raking a hand through her short hair in clear frustration. She looks off to the side, as if searching for words, the right corner of her mouth curled down in a frown. Shin steps in seamlessly to answer, the earlier tension between the siblings nowhere to be found as they cover for each other instinctively.

“What you need to understand is that the issue wasn’t with your trustworthiness, but rather the situation as a whole.” He says calmly, and Sakura visibly relaxes, shooting her brother a small, grateful smile. “The one thing that allowed us to keep going even in the darkest moments, the reason we decided to risk everything in order to bring Danzo down, was to grant us all relatively normal lives after.”

He looks at them, and though Kakashi’s got a good decade on the boy, his eyes remind him of Sakumo; grey and wise and tired and seeing straight through their defences.

“Our brother is good. He’s good in a way Sakura and I aren’t anymore. We’ve put everything on the line to give him a normal childhood, or as normal as you can get being an ex-ROOT agent with the remnants of a failed conditioning program rattling around your brain. But the point is, he’s at the Academy. He’s with his age-mates. He’s got a chance to really live. Perhaps, if all goes well, by the time he graduates, you won’t even be able to tell he was once one of Shimura’s most ‘loyal’.”

Sakura jumps back in, and she meets their wide eyes unflinchingly.

“There are five people in the Village who know our brother’s true identity. Two of them are in this room, another is the Hokage.” An unreadable expression crosses her face then, but it morphs into a wry smile in the next second. “Understand this: I trust the three of you with my life. I consider us friends. But I will always put my siblings first.”

In that moment, Kakashi understands exactly how quiet-Sakura could have a contract with tigers.

Her eyes shine with a fierce determination borne out of a protectiveness and love so potent Kakashi feels it like a physical ache. He wonders whether anyone had ever looked like that when they talked about him.  

But he has to check, so he asks, adamantly ignoring Genma’s sharp look.

“Always? Even before missions? Before orders?”

“Always, taicho.” Sakura doesn’t even hesitate, just holds his gaze and dares him to say anything. “I’d abandon any mission a hundred times over if it meant saving my brothers.”

Kakashi stares.

He can’t help it.

This entire dinner, the two children before him, it’s all set to remind him of the ghosts from his past. From the boy with his father’s eyes, to the deceptively shy medic parroting Sakumo and Minato’s words back at him.

All that’s missing is an optimistic Uchiha who met his untimely and tragic end.

“I only have one question.” Genma cuts in, before Kakashi has a chance to recover, and at this point, Kakashi is almost sure the man is doing it intentionally. “Ryūnosuke implied that their previous summoner was Kagami. The only Kagami I know of was Uchiha Kagami. So, how did you get an Uchiha summoning contract?”

A tiny smile appears on Sakura’s face when Genma mentions her summon by name, but by the time he’s finished, it turns a little melancholy.

“In ROOT, I had three brothers. The third was an Uchiha. When he became more of a liability to Danzo than a useful piece and his time was ran short, he left me the contract.” She explains, and Shin shows the first expression that’s neither faked nor snide, and Kakashi spitefully wonders whether they’ve finally found a sore spot.

“I doubt the Uchiha Clan would’ve stayed quiet if one of their members was just… disappeared.” Yugao points out, and Kakashi’s glad she’s making sense again.

Shin’s expression twists again, and Sakura’s wry smile gains a sardonic edge.

“Not if it looked like a suicide.”

Kakashi stills.

It can’t be.

An Uchiha, of high enough skill to be in ROOT, whose death was written off as a suicide. Close enough in age to be a brother figure to a preteen.

Shisui.

But that throws into question the first thing that brought about the downfall of Itachi’s status. If Danzo was responsible for Shisui’s death, then Itachi really was just a victim, and that opens the fantastic can of worms that is Kakashi’s anxiety over what else he’d judged too quickly.

“I’m sorry.” Yugao offers carefully, apparently ignorant to Kakashi’s inner epiphanies.

Sakura mutters a quiet ‘thank you’, and the conversation stalls.

“Tomorrow,” Kakashi finally says, breaking the silence that had fallen over the table, “we will have a team training session, and a spar. All out. No more hiding skills. No more secrets.” He shoots a glance at Shin, and, taking care to make it sound like an off-hand remark, adds. “That applies to everyone.”

Sakura smiles, and there’s relief and excitement in her eyes when she nods. “I’d like that.” she agrees, and a weight Kakashi hadn’t even realised had been on his shoulders lifts off. Then, a sheepish look crosses Sakura’s face and she fidgets. “But for now, let’s eat. I think I made way too much food.”

Kakashi can’t help himself. He snorts.

When they finally part ways two hours later, Kakashi feels well-fed, warm, and reassured. After all the metaphorical dirty laundry was aired out, the conversation moved onto more innocent, light-hearted topics, and towards the end of the night, even he could sense a feeling of kinship around his team that hadn’t been present before.

While Yugao and Genma made it clear that they hold no grudge against Sakura for having kept her secrets from them, Kakashi tried hard to be neutral, even though inwardly, he’d reached a decision about three hours into the dinner.

He would not include Sakura’s Mokuton in his mission report, and instead of her summons carrying them back to Konoha, he’d name his own. There were no witnesses, after all, apart from his team, who saw the tigers, so it’s not like anyone will be able to call him on his bluff.

He didn’t want to lose Sakura.

As hurt as he’d been by her having kept secrets from them, Shin’s explanation, despite how cutting and targeted it had been, had helped.

And though the dinner left him with even more questions than he had before, deep down, Kakashi can also acknowledge that the heavy weight in his stomach is gone, replaced instead with relief.

He’ll need to may more attention to his teammates, and he’s curious what tomorrow’s spar will reveal, and there are definitely some things he should’ve questioned more and some he shouldn’t have believed quite so readily, but he’s…content.

He thinks of Sakura’s tiny smile as she waved them all out the door, thinks of Yugao’s fond looks and Genma’s good humour, and when he finally dares to think of the word ‘pack’ when thinking of his team, it doesn’t feel weird.

It feels right.

Chapter Text

The next morning, at the most seclude training ground Kakashi could find without booking it first, Sakura and Genma stand opposite each other, both looking relaxed and not about like they're about to spar all-out. 

Then, on some unseen signal, because Genma has been a shinobi for far too long to let something like a muscle tensing betray his movement, and Sakura is shaping up to be a monster of Kakashi's proportions, they spring into action. 

While Genma has often said that he's an assassin at heart, he's not limited to that skillset, and earth spikes erupt from the ground, each sharp enough to pierce through metal. But Sakura leaps up, twists in mid-air to avoid the barrage of shuriken Genma sends after her, and flashes through hand signs Kakashi only catches thanks to his Sharingan.

A literal blanket of water falls on the ground, soaking into the spikes Genma had erected and making the dirt soften and crumble. Then, with more seals, roots pierce through the now-softened soil and go after Genma like sentient vines, twining around him, clearly aiming to immobilize, while Sakura lands on the thickest root like it's a tree branch and observes. 

But Genma is a shinobi of the Land of Fire, and a fireball is par the course for somebody who has been a ninja for as long as him. The fire weakens the roots enough for him to flash-step through the charred vines and land by Sakura's perch, tanto out and gleaming with liquid poison. 

Sakura meets the volley of lighting-quick strikes with a kunai, but it becomes rapidly apparent that while her speed keeps up just fine, the kunai isn't helping any with her inferior reach, and she loses all the ground she's gained with her aerial attack in a matter of seconds. She seems to realise her disadvantage and ducks under Genma's next strike, twisting and landing a punishing kick to his solar plexus. As Genma staggers back and recovers, she unsheathes the twin kodachi Kakashi only just notices strapped to her thighs. She flips the grip in one fluid motion, holding the blades perpendicular to her arms instead of as an extension of them, and meets Genma's next strike with considerably more confidence, despite the odd hold. 

They parry and block for a few seconds, trading blows back and forth but neither gaining anything substantial, until Genma twists his tanto and catches both of Sakura's kodachi with one hand, while the other shifts into a Rat seal. To Kakashi's surprise, Genma smirks and a second later, a bowling ball-sized fireball coalesces in front of him, mere centimetres from Sakura's face. 

Kakashi thinks he hears a stifled squeak before Sakura immediately drops her kodachi and disappears. 

Not a kawarimi, as nothing replaces her, so it had to be a seal-less shunshin, and Kakashi is starting to feel really glad he insisted on this sparring session because what were his subordinates thinking, hiding seal-less ninjutsu from him? 

Sakura reappears with the crunch of breaking branches and a muffled curse, and Genma zeroes in on her position almost immediately, not giving her a chance to find her footing and regain her balance before he's throwing six kunai with ninja wire threaded through the loops, effectively pinning the teen to the trunk. 

Sakura scowls, but doesn't struggle beyond testing the strength of the wire pinning her in place - Genma's weapons are always top-grade, and his wire is no different. 

"You win." she admits, then shoots the tokujo a look that's torn between amused and grumpy. "Untie me?"

Once she's free of the wire, they reposition to the middle of the clearing and stand opposite each other again, waiting for Yugao to give the signal. 

"Still good for best of three?" the kunoichi checks before starting, and when she receives twin nods in response, she grins. "Great. Go!"

Not even two seconds after the words leave her mouth, Genma gags and bends over, Sakura suddenly right in his space, and it's only thanks to Kakashi's Sharingan that he can process what happened.

Sakura used a seal-less shunshin again, only this time, what with it being controlled and in a straight line, the execution was flawless. She got into Genma's personal space so fast that there still seemed to be an afterimage of her left in her original position, and she struck out at Genma's bare throat with a knife-hand.

Even without chakra, the hit to the throat has Genma doubling over and coughing violently, and Sakura absently mimes chopping with her hand at the back of his neck and looks to where Kakashi and Yugao were standing, both more than a little dumbfounded.

"Do I win?" she asks idly, then reaches out again, hand glowing mint-green, and Genma abruptly stops coughing.

"What the hell was that?" he chokes out once he straightens, visibly discomfited. "Can that even be called a shunshin?"

Sakura shrugs, opting to remain silent, though the corner of her lip quirks up as she walks back to their starting positions and looks at Kakashi expectantly. 

"Last round," Yugao calls, when she realises Kakashi can't manage words just yet. "go!"

This time, it's Sakura who produces the Great Fireball, and Kakashi is getting a headache just keeping track of her affinities.

When the fireball is about three meters in diameter and firmly between her and Genma, she slots her fingers in a familiar cross and disappears underground, just as her Shadow Clone takes her place. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yugao shoot him a curious glance, because that move is his staple as a jounin, but he doesn't recall ever using it against the rosette. 

Genma must not have noticed the switch because he dodges out of the way of the Fireball but keeps his distance, opting for a barrage of deadly-accurate senbon, visibly hesitant about engaging in close-combat after that knife-hand to the throat.

Kakashi can't sense her chakra, but he has an inkling as to how the match will end even before two small hands suddenly break through the ground just under Genma's feet, wrapping around his ankles and pulling him down until he's buried to mid-thigh. Sakura surfaces a few meters away, keeping carefully to Genma's blind-spot, aware that he's still able to use his hands, and folds her fingers in an unfamiliar seal.

Once again, vines reach out from the ground around Genma and wrap around him, trapping his arms to his sides and tightening until the tokujo winces as they reach his neck. 

"I give!" he calls at last, and the vines immediately loosen and recede, and Sakura steps closer, laying a hand flat to the ground until the dirt around Genma's legs softens and he can pull himself out and onto his feet. 

"That's 2-1 to you, little monster." he declares and reaches out to ruffle her hair, and there's no resentment in his voice. Caution, yes; surprise too, but Genma's far too good to resent someone for beating him, even if that someone is almost a third of his age. "Well done."

Kakashi watches, more than a little stunned, as Sakura all but preens and darts in close for a hug, though her hands glow green when they rest on the small of Genma's back, prompting the tokujo to laugh. 

"Don't waste your energy on me; I'm not injured, and you've still got six rounds to go." he chastises, booping the teen on the nose and getting a raspberry blown at him in response. 

Kakashi marvels at the dichotomy of the girl's personality, thinking back to the blank-faced soldier of yesterday who didn't hesitate to use Killing Intent on her brother versus this cheerful, playful child, who nevertheless just beat a tokujo twice in the space of five minutes.

"Yugao," he calls, when he feels like he can produce words instead of wordless screams of bafflement and frustration, "you're up."

Sakura's grin doesn't waver and Yugao shocked expression is nowhere to be seen - instead, the two face each other with friendly smiles and visible excitement in their eyes.

Kakashi can't help but wonder how this match will go - though Yugao is younger, she's faster than Genma, and specialises almost exclusively in kenjutsu, which Sakura has just proven to be her arguably weakest field. Sakura's only options are burying the other kunoichi in ninjutsu, which, while undeniably effective, will exhaust even her unusually-large reserves; or playing keep-away until Yugao exhausts herself. 

Kakashi calls a start to the spar, and, immediately, Yugao is on the younger kunoichi, katana flashing in deadly arcs and doing her level best to make Sakura stumble.

Sakura, in turn, turns shunshin-assisted dodging into an artform, and Kakashi wonders why her movements seem so familiar. Her shunshin is never longer than two or three steps, but it puts her safely out of Yugao's reach and is unpredictable enough to keep the other on her toes even when she's on the offensive.

Then, when a full-frontal attack doesn't seem to be working, Yugao steps back, putting some distance between her and Sakura, and starts the motion for her signature Oborozukiyo technique, swinging the sword so fast that it leaves after-images behind. Sakura watches raptly, eyes flickering but clearly unable to trace the movement, and then Yugao throws the sword, sending it flying so fast that it blurs, and Sakura swears and throws herself bodily out of the way, and though the tumble she pulls off has no wasted movements nor moments of inattention, it allows Yugao the precious seconds she needs to flash-step to the rosette's side, pull her ANBU tanto out and press the tip against the back of Sakura's neck.

"I give." Sakura calls, getting to her feet when Yugao lowers the sword and shooting the other kunoichi a small smile when the other appears concerned. There's a thoughtful expression on Sakura's face, and she seems to be having a similar realisation as Kakashi had at the start of the match as she turns to him and calls out; 

"All out?" 

Kakashi merely nods and at his side, Genma laughs, though the expression on his face is disbelieving when he mumbles 'now she asks that?'.

They soon understand why she asked.

When Yugao moves again, this time in the pattern preceding her Dance of the Crescent Moon technique, Sakura flashes through familiar seals and presses her palm to the ground. Just as Yugao finishes the technique and it looks like there are four of her, each set to attack from different directions, a massive tiger they hadn’t seen before appears in front of Sakura.

“Boshi-sama!” Sakura calls as she dodges the first attack. “You said no illusion, shapeshifting nor subterfuge would fool you, so help me see, please!”

“This is no subterfuge, cub.” The giant tiger rumbles, even as he easily dispatches one Yugao ‘clone’ with a swipe of a giant paw. “This is speed. You need to be faster, or train your sight better where your body fails.”

Kakashi feels himself blanch beneath his mask.

If those are the influences she’s surrounded by – a proud, bitter, suspicious brother and a summons for whom she’s still not enough, even as exceptional as she already is, it’s no wonder why Sakura is the way she is. It explains a lot about her skills, goals and personality, and why, at age eleven, she is faster than many jounin Kakashi knows.

And then, instead of getting angry like Kakashi thought she might, she takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, and lets it out, then, in a move most surprising of all, closes her eyes.

“Then do me the honour of being my eyes, Boshi-sama.” She murmurs instead, and though she cannot see her summon’s reaction, Kakashi catches the pleased look the tiger throws her without issue.

Kakashi has had his ninken for near-on a decade, but what his subordinate is doing speaks of a trust he’s not sure he could claim to have with any of his summons bar perhaps Pakkun.

Then, almost as an afterthought, Sakura’s right hand glows blue for the briefest of moments, and she swipes her palm over both her shins and Kakashi gets a feeling as if his ears were about to pop, like some pressure has just been released.

When Yugao and her remaining clones move again, Boshi barks a command and Sakura-

Sakura blurs.

“The fuck-!”

Genma’s startled exclamation would’ve been echoed by Kakashi had he had an ounce less composure.

Because Sakura had been fast, but Yugao was still faster, but now the kunoichi are evenly matched.

In fact, no, that’s not true, he realises a beat later, eyes still glued to the fight, Sharingan blazing.

Sakura is faster.

Yugao’s two clones are eliminated in a joint effort by the rosette and her summon, and the pincer attack they switch to as soon as it’s two-on-one immediately puts the kenjutsu mistress on the defensive. Sakura’s eyes are still closed.

From there, it’s a matter of relentlessly exploiting every opening the tiger describes, not letting up until an opportunity presents itself, be it in the form of a gap in defence or a moment of inattention, yet even as Yugao stumbles, Kakashi realises that Sakura is already slowing. She’s still faultlessly following each of her summon’s commands and directions, yet her speed is no longer what it was when she first dropped the seals.

Her dash into Yugao’s guard – once the kunoichi finally trips – is still fast, but it’s no longer faster than Yugao herself, and if Yugao had been marginally less fatigued and overwhelmed than she appears, Kakashi is sure she would’ve been able to dodge or at the very least divert the kick to her gut.

As it is, Yugao falls to her knees and hurls, and the acrid stench of vomit fills the air. Sakura finally opens her eyes and side-steps her teammate’s lunch, wandering back to her summon’s side. Kakashi doesn’t catch what she says, but a few seconds later, there’s a pulse of chakra and a cloud of smoke, and ‘Boshi’ disappears, just as Sakura drops down to a crouch, a pained grimace on her face, and sets green-glowing hands on her shins.

“What the hell was that?” Genma asks, voice coming out little louder than a whisper even though Kakashi is sure that, in his mind, it was meant to be a demand.

Still, Sakura seems to understand what he means, and smiles wryly.

“That,” she says, switching to her calves, “is the product of being trained by Shunshin no Shisui.” She says simply, and seems content to leave it at that.

“And the summon?” Genma presses, and Kakashi is glad he’s asking the same questions he wants to know the answers to, because he’s not sure Sakura would answer quite so readily if he were the one to ask.

Sakura’s already wry smile turns a touch more self-deprecating, and the expression makes Kakashi feel distinctly uncomfortable because of how natural it looks on her young face.

“Unfortunately, while my body can keep up just fine, my eyes cannot. And although I can augment my sight with chakra, there comes a point where you run a greater risk of permanently damaging your optic nerve than you do improving your vision. Boshi-sama sees through illusion, subterfuge, and everything my eyes do not. It was the logical choice.”

“Why are you injured?” Kakashi asks eventually, when Genma seems too busy processing to continue the impromptu interrogation. “Yugao did not land a single direct hit on you in that round.”

The smile drops off Sakura’s face entirely, her mouth twisting into a hard, sharp line that looks like it was painted on her face with one single stroke, only the corner of her lips twisting down in a bitter curl.

“Because there is a reason they don’t teach how to augment muscles with chakra until the final year of the Academy.” She bites out. “Because there’s a reason only the most exceptional of geniuses are allowed to graduate early and become field-nin before their age hits double-digits. Because I am eleven, and my body cannot take the strain I put it through without sacrifices.”

“Her muscles still aren’t fully developed.” Yugao cuts in when both Kakashi and Genma remain blank-faced, slowly getting to her feet and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “The speed I need for my techniques puts a considerable strain on my body, and I’ve stopped growing and have been practising my technique for over a decade. It’s a wonder her muscles didn’t completely tear.”

Sakura’s eyes flicker to Yugao’s face in alarm, then back down to her hands, then to the side, and Kakashi has another blood-chilling realisation.

They did. That’s what she’s healing.

He has a moment to wonder what such an insane pain threshold is doing in an eleven-year-old, then banishes the thought.

“Round three?” he asks instead, and Genma shoots him an aghast look, though both kunoichi look tired, but on-board, so he ignores the brunet.

“We said all-out, but can I use a chakra pill?” Sakura checks as she faces Yugao for the third time, and Kakashi ponders her question for a second before shaking his head, no.

A tiny frown pulls on Sakura’s forehead, but she doesn’t otherwise react, at least outwardly.

“Go!”

He understands why she didn’t grace him with a response when, no sooner than the word passes his lips do roots burst through the dirt, covering the space between Sakura and Yugao and twisting like sentient beings until they snag Yugao’s ankles and wrench her off-balance, quickly immobilising her.

Sakura had no plans for another drawn-out match.

“That’s hardly fair.” Yugao grumbles, though she smiles immediately after when she spots the guilty frown on Sakura’s face. “I just meant it’s been a while since I’ve sparred all-out.”

“I’m sorry.” Sakura apologises as the roots recede, offering her senpai-figure a hand. “Summoning Boshi-sama takes a lot out of me, and I have maybe…an eighth of my usual reserves left. I couldn’t afford to be drawn into another long match.”

“Not if you wanted to beat our esteemed leader’s ass, at least, hm?” Yugao asks good-naturedly, and Sakura shoots her a grateful smile even as she huffs out a small laugh.

“Indeed.”

“That’s ambitious.” Kakashi comments as he finally strolls into the clearing to take Yugao’s place, and he ignores the affronted look Yugao sends him, eyes on their youngest teammate.

Because Sakura isn’t insulted, from what he can tell. The smile that had been playing around her lips is gone, and her eyes are narrowed as she regards him, but the expression in them isn’t hurt, nor even anger.

It’s spite.

And then, as Yugao makes to join Genma on the side-lines, Sakura’s chakra disappears so suddenly and thoroughly that all three adults glance at her, caught off-guard.

A snide, serrated smirk has sharpened at the corners of Sakura’s mouth, and her eyes, when she meets Kakashi’s gaze, are full of challenge, as if daring him to comment. When he stays silent, she looks at Genma and Yugao expectantly, and a few seconds later, they obligingly call ‘go!’.

She’s in his space milliseconds later, and Kakashi catches the kunai aiming to disembowel him on the back plate of his glove, but the momentum off-balances him to the point he can’t block the follow-up swing and has to lose more ground to avoid the chakra-coated fist heading for his ribs.

He lashes out with a kick, hoping to take advantage of his longer reach, but Sakura uses her inferior height and slides under his leg, grabbing his ankle in an one hand and the fabric covering his thigh in the other, and yanks.

Kakashi is pulled completely off-balance as Sakura swings him over her head and tries to slam him into the ground, but he kawarimis with a log at the last second. Sakura lets go the moment wood replaces flesh and turns her momentum into a forward roll, which lets her avoid the barrage of shuriken Kakashi sends at her from his new place in the treeline by a hair’s breadth.

Then, Sakura’s in his space again, only instead of fists, she comes at him with knife-hands that glow faintly blue, and Kakashi realises why as soon as one lightly grazes his upper thigh and he stumbles, the feeling in his thigh gone.

She’s weaponised medical ninjutsu.

He loses feeling in his left forearm and right side before he realises that, just like fighting a Hyuuga, fighting Sakura in close-combat when she seems hell-bent on conserving chakra is a fool’s errand.

So he blows a fireball in her face.

A full-sized one.

Because, occasionally, he is an asshole.

(just occasionally.)

Sakura launches herself into the air to avoid the jutsu, and Kakashi doesn’t think as he unleashes a volley of shuriken into the air, then looks around the field, hoping to spot the girl before she tries to disembowel him again.

He only realises that he made a mistake when he smells blood and a shadow falls over him. He looks up, eyes widening when he meets furious emerald and catches sight of a body riddled with shuriken, but his attention is focused on the fist Sakura has pulled back and saturated with chakra so much that it’s surrounded by a visible blue glow.

He doesn’t wait and see what that much concentrated power could do to his face, he steps back, one-two, but still feels his mask split down his cheek by the power of Sakura’s chakra as her fist just misses his face.

He expects her to redirect her momentum or drop the technique entirely, but she touches down and keeps going, down, down, down, until her knees bend and her fist touches the ground and-

-and the world explodes.

Kakashi loses his footing, feels dust scratch his airways even despite his mask, closes his eyes against the burn of tears, and falls.

When he regains his bearings, his eyes are still squeezed shut, his throat and nose are a burning agony, his back is flush against the ground and a large slab of something is pressing him down. He can’t move, can barely breathe, can’t take a deep enough breath for a Fire jutsu without coughing, can’t move his hands to form seals, all he can do is wonder whether this is how Obito felt when he-!

-there’s a crunch and more dust rains over him, but he feels sunlight on his closed eyelids and dares open his eyes, though he keeps his breathing shallow, his mask more of a hindrance than a help this time.

When he blinks away the dust, he finds Sakura standing over him, silhouetted against the backdrop of the morning sun, but what he can see of the expression on her face sends a shiver down his spine.

“You know,” she begins, and Kakashi isn’t fooled for a second by her seemingly light tone, “you could’ve just told me that you were going to treat this like an intel gathering mission from the beginning, instead of the ‘team building’ exercise you painted it as. We both know that you could wipe the floor with me if you tried – that you’re in your current predicament is only testament to the fact that you never even intended to try. That’s fine, though. But if you had just asked me, then we wouldn’t have had to go through this whole farce of a spar; this play-pretend of a cohesive unit. I could’ve just told you what I can do, or fought a clone or something, and we could’ve continued on our merry way of ignoring the fact that you’ve been spying on me all this time.”

When he twitches despite himself, she smiles wryly, then turns her face so her expression is completely shadowed by the glare of the sun, and Kakashi wants to move, wants to speak, but he’s trapped, and she knows it.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed.” She tells him flatly, the earlier lightness gone. “I’d had my suspicions about the gag-order, you know. Also figured you would’ve probably been ordered to spy on me quite early on. But, when you didn’t report the Mokuton, when you suggested this team spar, I thought you decided for once in your life to not be the Hokage’s loyal guard dog; I thought we could make something out of this. I thought this was your attempt at an olive branch.”

She snorts, and the sound is so bitter Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat.

“But no. Of course not. You wouldn’t know reciprocity if it smacked you in the face.”

That stings, Kakashi realises belatedly, but Sakura’s voice quivers in a way that could either be anger or tears, and that’s infinitely more worrisome than his apparent hurt feelings.

“So, I’m going to make it easy for you.” She announces, and Kakashi dreads. “I’m going to disappear for a week. Don’t try to look for me. If you go to the Hokage within that week, I simply won’t come back. If you don’t, we can try this again. But, you know, actually be a team this time, all members equally invested. Until then, well.” she pauses, and something warm and wet falls on Kakashi’s cheek. “Goodbye.”

And, between one blink and the next, she’s gone.

Yugao and Genma are by his side in an instant, and he can feel Genma pumping chakra through the slab of earth pinning him down, trying to soften it enough for Kakashi to get out.

He catches sight of Yugao’s expression, just a glimpse, really, no more than a second in duration, but within that split-second look, he sees just how much the kunoichi wants to leave him here, helpless, alone. It stings, again, but…

But in this moment, he doesn’t blame her.

Shin startles when Sakura bursts through the door of their apartment, tear-tracks staining her face, a handful of wounds on her arms and legs still bleeding sluggishly, as if she hadn’t bothered to heal them, and he tenses when her eyes zero in on him and narrow.

“Come on.” She orders, rifling through the cupboards, pulling out the bottle of their highest-potency soldier pills and dry-swallowing two in one go. “It’s time.”

Shin doesn’t move beyond laying his book carefully on the coffee table, and he feels Sakura’s ire spike when he doesn’t immediately obey, but he needs answers.

“Time for what?” he asks, sharply enough to pierce through whatever fog has clouded over his adopted-sister’s mind, and he sees her physically shift mental tracks, sees the moment she takes a deep breath and holds until he’s sure she must be dizzy, and when she lets it out, her eyes lose the edge of mania that he hadn’t even realised was there until it’s gone.

“Time for me to heal your lungs.”

(he’s out of his seat in a heartbeat.)

Chapter Text

Though he hadn't hesitated to follow Sakura out the door, swept up as he had been by her enthusiasm, Shin's common sense catches up to him once he realises where Sakura is leading them:

The secret enterance to ROOT, by the Uchiha Compound. The same one the three of them used four years prior to hold up his promise to Shisui.

He catches her wrist seconds before she can reach for the flap that hides the entrance, an apologetic smile on his face when she visibly startles, as if having forgotten he was there.

"Not that I'm not glad at your enthusiasm," he begins carefully, "but weren't you supposed to have team training today?"

Sakura's gaze darts away from his before she forcefully makes herself look him in the eye and answer.

"I was. I did have it. And it resulted in me taking a leave of absence for a week." 

Shin carefully monitors his expression to make sure he doesn't react outwardly at the news, then sighs. "Okay, there's a story there. C'mon, Sakura, tell me."

Sakura bristles, twisting her wrist out of his grasp and reaching for the trapdoor again.

"Don't you want me to heal your lungs?" she asks bluntly, and Shin steps forward and slams his foot on the opening door, forcing it shut again.

"My lungs have been varying degrees of fucked for the last decade." he informs her calmly, almost cheerfully, in contrast to his actions. "They can wait another ten minutes for you to tell me what's on your mind."

Sakura eyes him, whether distrustful of his intentions or just the notion of sharing what's got her down, he can't be sure, but when she finally caves and tells him, Shin very carefully doesn't wince.

He studies the anger and the resentment and the hurt that's still swirling in Sakura's eyes, compares her reaction to what he knows of Hatake...and sighs.

"Sakura, look at me." he requests quietly, but Sakura's adamantly not meeting his gaze now, looking anywhere but at him while trying to pretend like she's not avoiding him.

Shin decides that he's good enough with words that he won't need eye-contact to make his message strike home, and speaks.

"I know it's perhaps not the best idea to say this to someone who'll have my lungs in her hands in the very near future, but just...humour me, okay?" he asks gently, not continuing until he gets a small, grudging nod.

Then, he gets serious.

"Why do you think Hatake wasn't taking you seriously?" he demands, and the tone of his voice lets Sakura know that he wants an answer this time, and she gives one, albeit grudgingly.

"He's a genius." she tells him sullenly. "Moreso than even Itachi. He’s like you and Shisui but with two decades of experience of being a shinobi. He could wipe the floor with me. He should’ve wiped the floor with me." 

Shin closes his eyes for a split second, sends a quick prayer for patience, then grabs Sakura's chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns her head until she has no choice but to look at him.

"Sakura, have you ever considered that you're a genius too?" he asks, and he sees the immediate denial that rises up, and he presses forward, before she has the chance to articulate it.

"You're terrifying. You've mastered an extinct Nature Transformation, you have a contract with a Noble Summons, a solid mastery of most elements, your taijutsu is formidable, you've got perfect chakra control, you've weaponised medical ninjutsu, and you've got Shisui-taught speed and sneakiness. Hatake is an even match for you. The only thing he has on you is that damn eye of his, and the size of his chakra coils." he informs her, so bluntly and factually that she has no leg to stand on if she wants to refute him.

Then, he reconsiders, and adds with a huffed laugh. "Though, on second thought, your comprehension renders any genjutsu moot, so he can't even hold that over you. Consider that."

He can see Sakura's brain whirring as she throws his words around and tries to find a way to downplay her abilities again. He really should've asked earlier about the reason behind the almost crippling self-doubt she sometimes engages in. The girl he knows has no reason to doubt herself or her skills, and it doesn't make sense for her to have acquired any self-esteem issues before he met her.

Then, he pushes those musings to the back of his mind to be pulled apart later, and drives the nail in the metaphorical coffin and concludes;

"After a year of being teammates, I'd have assumed you knew Hatake for the man he is rather than whatever flawless, untouchable image most people have constructed of him."

"I do." Sakura snaps, defensive, his accusation knocking her out of her head, and she shoots him a baleful glare.

But Shin is undeterred. "Then, do you truly think he went easy on you? That he was using the spar to spy on you? Or do you think that you went into the spar with the expectation that you wouldn't win, and let whatever insecurity you cling to in regards to your abilities affect your view of it?"

"What are you saying?" Sakura asks quietly, and her earlier indignation has melted to something smaller, sharper. "That I went in biased? That I was unfair to Kakashi?"

Shin meets her gaze unhesitatingly and inclines his head. "Yes. That's precisely what I'm saying."

He thinks Sakura is going to slap him, snap at him, explode, or something that would release the violence he can see brewing in her eyes.

Instead, she bites her lip and crosses her legs, sitting down unceremoniously as she rests her elbow on her bent knee and places her chin in her hand, deep in thought.

Shin...stares.

Perhaps, where Sakura had been unfair to Hatake, he'd been unfair to her, underestimating how much she values his opinion after all these years. After all, instead of snapping and burying herself in her denial, Sakura is instead thinking about what he'd said, and, knowing her, likely considering so many more elements of the situation than he'd even been aware of.

After what feels like a few minutes but could've easily been half an hour, she nods, and when she looks up at him, there's a small, uncertain smile on her face.

"You...might be onto something." she admits, not quite sheepishly, but with a degree of bashfulness he wasn't expecting. "Now, can we heal your lungs?"

This time, Shin doesn't stop her as she opens the trap-door.

When Sakura had first looked at Shin's lungs, back in the dungeons that passed for ROOT dorms, the disease afflicting his lungs had been brutal, but despite what Shin had claimed, it hadn't been life-threatening. 

What she sees once she lays him down in the dust-covered medical-wing of the abandoned ROOT HQ that takes a whole half-hour to sterilize, is different.

A lot different. 

The cancer has not only spread from the lungs to the surrounding tissue, but is far, far faster-acting than the disease he was suffering from before. Sakura closes her eyes as a wave of almost unbearable guilt washes over her, and knows that the anger she feels at the incompetence of the nurses is just her psyche's attempt at lessening her own hand in allowing Shin to go untreated for so long.

She could've healed him in ROOT. She should've healed him in ROOT. But she'd been so scared of showing her hand too early, of being more competent than she'd had any right to be, of, kami forbid, someone finding out her secret, that she'd allowed the boy she thought of as a brother to live with a lung disease and develop an opioid addiction at the age of thirteen. 

No more. 

Her negligent behaviour would stop right here, right now.

Sakura takes a deep breath, rolls up her sleeves, and sets to work. 

Shin wakes from the anaesthetic slowly. He blinks to consciousness in the dim light of the med-bay and takes a slow, careful breath. 

No pain. 

He sits up, hand rising automatically to his chest, and prepares himself for the stabbing pain as he opens his mouth and takes a deep breath that reaches all the way to his belly.

No pain. 

No wheezing exhale, no cough, no blood, no breathlessness as he swings his legs over the edge of the operating table and gets to his feet. His head spins, but his breathing remains even and painless. 

He's on the edge of tears with his joy, but then his eyes fall on the figure curled in the corner and his joy is momentarily replaced with concern. 

Sakura is sleeping, or passed out, he's not quite sure. She looks oddly small, laying there, like she's actually a twelve-year-old kid and not this larger-than-life maternal sister-figure Sai takes her for. Her skin is almost deathly pale, and there are bright, purpling shadows under her eyes, while her breathing, despite being asleep, is shallow.

Shin knows the signs, even though it's been a while since he's experienced it. Chakra exhaustion.

"You idiot." he chastises fondly, despite nobody being there to hear it. He carefully pulls out his IV - and he has no clue where Sakura procured it from but hey, it’s Sakura – then walks over to his sister’s sleeping form and gently scoops her into his arms, heading for the door once she's secure. 

He can't remember the last time he felt this good. And he can't wait to tell Shisui. 

When Sakura wakes, she’s on their sofa, one of the crochet throw blankets draped carefully over her while Shin sits cross-legged on the floor, back leaning against the arm of the couch, a complex-looking scroll on Wind jutsu spread across his lap.

(Sakura has a sneaking suspicion it’s one of the scrolls she saved from the Uchiha compound. She smiles inwardly.)

“How are you?” she asks, her voice scratchy, and winces at the pounding headache that’s made itself at home in her temples, reaching up with green-glowing fingers almost automatically. She can’t sense Sai anywhere in the house, which is odd, but she dismisses the thought for the time being.

“I think I should be asking you that question.” Shin replies teasingly, turning his head so he can look at her, and already Sakura can see that the pallor of his skin has given way to a more natural peach tone, the ever-present concealer he had taken to wearing under his eyes years back conspicuously missing. “Chakra exhaustion, Sakura? Really?”

Sakura shrugs, unable to resist joining in on Shin’s happiness despite her instinctive defensiveness at the question.

“Worth it.” She says simply, and watches as Shin’s joy doesn’t necessarily fade, but his gaze turns sharper, though not unfriendly.

“How did you know you could do it? And why now?” he asks, as if despite himself, unable to resist.

Why now? Sakura echoes inwardly, a fresh wave of guilt sweeping over her. Why now, indeed? Cause I was mad at Kakashi? Cause I wanted to feel like I could do something? Cause I wanted to spit in the face of fate and destiny and the Sandaime and save someone who was doomed to die young?

“I didn’t.” she replies, lying instead of voicing her turbulent thoughts, and adds a shrug for good measure. “But I knew what had to be done, and I was tired of being too scared to do it.”

Too scared, or too selfish? Too focused on my own goals to help someone I call a brother? Self-loathing joins the guilt, and Sakura struggles to hold Shin’s gaze and keep her expression even.

If Shin had any less control over his expression, Sakura’s willing to bet he would’ve been gaping.

“Well…what did you do?” he asks eventually, as if unsure whether he wants to know the answer.

“Used my chakra to burn out all the cancerous cells, then dealt with the cancer itself.” She says, and when Shin’s expression doesn’t clear any, Sakura sighs and settles into lecture-mode.

“Right. Cancer is dangerous because of the metastasis, right? Where one type of cells multiplies rapidly and invades other important organs, yeah?” she waits until Shin nods.

“Well, what chemotherapy does, is it targets those fast-multiplying cells. So it can reduce the rate at which the cells spread, or get rid of them completely. Think of hair! Hair is an example of a fast-multiplying cell, which is why chemo patients lose it first.”

She waits for another nod.

“But cancer can evolve a resistance to the drugs used in chemo. Which is why I preferred not to give it the chance to and took matters into my own hands, so to speak.”

“You…targeted the cancerous cells? With your chakra?” Shin asks, his voice oddly flat, and Sakura nods in confirmation. “You did what chemotherapy drugs would do over a period of months, in the space of three days, and with only your chakra?”

This time, Sakura’s a little slower to nod, unsure what he’s getting at, but she does, eventually, because, well. She did.

“I…need a moment.” Shin sighs and curls up, dropping his forehead down on his bent knees and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Shin?” Sakura checks cautiously, more than a little perplexed at the sudden change in mood. “What’s wro-?”

“Do you know,” Shin interrupts, cutting her off, “that whatever you did wasn’t even offered as an option at the hospital?” he asks, lifting his head and piercing her with his gaze, his eyes as always seeing far more than Sakura wants them to.

“How much do you want to bet that if I went to the hospital right now and proposed your solution, I’d be laughed out?”

Sakura swallows, but stays silent, and Shin must take her silence as confirmation because he sighs explosively and visibly tries to calm down.

“How did you know what to do?” he asks at last, and his tone is equal parts suspicious and pleading. “Because I know next to nothing about medical jutsu, but even I can guess that what you did must’ve required insane amounts of control.”

Think fast. Sakura thinks desperately, because she doesn’t think that ‘I’m from an alternate timeline where I was eighteen and had surpassed a Sannin and you were dead’ is an explanation that they’re ready for just yet.

“I found a scroll.” She says finally, spinning the lie as she goes. “An old one. It was Tsunade’s before she was Tsunade. It detailed an experimental technique to cure cancer-like diseases. It was never introduced into wide-spread practise because it requires control in the 98^th percentile. But if there’s anything I can claim as uniquely my own, it’s my chakra control. I knew I could do it. Hypothetically. I just…needed a push to not worry about why I shouldn’t.”

Shin’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline.

“Tsunade? Senju Tsunade? ‘Best medic-nin in the Elemental Nations’ Tsunade?” he checks, and Sakura snorts.

“Do you know any other?” She asks flippantly, but Shin is still just staring. “You’re really starting to freak me out.” She adds after a moment, and Shin seems to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into.

“Next time I hear you doubting yourself, I’m not going to patiently explain why you shouldn’t, like I did a few days ago. I’m straight up going to smack you.” He tells her at last, his voice completely serious. “This is incredible, Sakura. Surely you realise that?”

Sakura laughs, then shrugs in the face of Shin’s frown.

“You needed treatment. The hospital isn’t in the place it needs to be in to be able to provide it. It was this or watching you wither away before my eyes.”

Shin is silent for a long time after that.

“You’re insane.” He says finally, and then there are arms around Sakura’s neck and a face tucked into her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Shin whispers into the hug, and Sakura slowly brings her arms up and wraps around her brother in all but blood, squeezing back.

Whatever the consequences of her actions may be, even if her secret will have to come to light, it will have been worth it.

Shino studies Sai as the other boy packs up his things, and he smiles softly from behind the collar of his jacket.

Where the other boy can normally fit right in with the rest of the Aburame or even the Hyuuga with his blank face and even tone, today, Sai’s movements are almost giddy, and Shino is willing to bet that if he were an Aburame, Sai’s kikaichu would’ve been buzzing.

Sai was a friend he hadn’t expected to make, particularly not after Torune, but there was something about the raven that had intrigued Shino, and, well, he’s always enjoyed mysteries.

He found it curious how Sai often seemed older than his years, but also possessed an innocent type of naïveté that was normally beaten out of shinobi-hopefuls in the Academy, but Sai seemed impervious to Mizuki’s stern ‘the real world is not your playground game of ninja’ talks, looking at the man with an almost…amused expression.

It was…heartening, in a way, especially after Shino had gotten the opportunity to pick at Sai’s brain a little, either through board games or debates or discussions with the other boy and his father.

He’d discovered that behind the blank face and childlike innocence hid a steel-trap of a mind and an intelligence that could run circles around a Nara. He had been glad when his father had expressed his approval of Sai, because Shino didn’t think he would have been happy to give up his first friend outside of the family.

“Has something happened?” he asks when the classroom empties, and it’s just him and Sai and Iruka-sensei at the front of the room. “Why? You seem more…cheerful than usual.”

Sai slings his bag over his shoulder and turns to look at Shino, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile, and Shino doesn’t think he’s ever seen the other boy smile so wide before.

“My aniki was healed.” Sai tells him, and even his voice is lighter, cheerier. “His lungs are- his lungs are healthy again.”

Shino understands Sai’s joy and can’t help but join in, aware of just how much the other boy idolises his siblings and how worried he’s been by his brother’s state that refused to improve.

“Congratulations.” Shino offers woodenly, the standard expression falling from his mouth with the pressure of the possibility of other people overhearing them. He relaxes once they step out onto the outside grounds and discover that they are blissfully empty, all the students and parents having gone home.

“I’m happy for you and your brother.” He adds in a more genuine tone, and Sai brightens even more, if that were possible. “I take it the hospital found a treatment?”

“No,” the raven shakes his head, “Aneue healed him.”

                                                                                                                .

Shino pauses.

“I…wasn’t aware your sister was a medic-nin.” He says slowly, carefully, and luckily Sai’s still too happy to catch onto his suspicion because he just shakes his head and seems to almost bounce at Shino’s side.

“She’s not. But she has perfect chakra control, so she taught herself in order to heal aniki and then she did.” He divulges, the last part in breathy wonder, and apparently not seeing anything amiss with the announcement because he takes Shino’s hand to steer them towards the agemono stand.

“She must be very skilled.” Shino observes finally, inclining his head in thanks when Sai pays for and hands him a box of gobo chips.

“Mmhm!” Sai all but chirps and digs into his own tempura.

“You’re…excited?” Shino asks, testing the word in his mouth but it seems right to describe Sai’s uncharacteristic energy. “Why?”

And Sai beams, eyes crinkling even more, tempura-stuffed cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s.

“Because with aniki healthy, he can take the Jounin Exams, and once I graduate and aneue drops out of ANBU, we can be a real unit.” He explains all in one breath, and then seems to sag, as if the news had been the helium that was making him so light and excited.

ANBU. Jounin Exams. Shino remembers the first time he’d met Sai’s sister, remembers the split-second feeling of ice in his veins and a weight on his very soul that made him feel like he’d never be happy again.

[He’d later found out that it was called ‘Killing Intent’ and that only strong ninja or people who truly hated ever used it in battle; he’d guessed, then, that Sai’s sister must have belonged to both categories, for the Intent to have slipped out so potently and in a simple conversation.]

But to have it confirmed so casually that their peer – because that’s what Sai’s sister was, despite the boy’s obvious reverence for her – was in ANBU, and that Sai’s brother, despite having struggled with a lung disease for over a decade, was easily jounin level…it lent credence to Shino’s growing theory, one that was only confirmed every time he had Sai over and his father would shoot glances that were both, wary and pitying, at the other boy.

He’s like Torune. His whole family is like Torune.

He hasn’t yet decided whether that realisation makes him hopeful or afraid.

“Do you want to go pet the Inuzuka puppies again?” Sai asks once he finishes his tempura, the box nowhere in sight. “Hana-san said we can visit whenever because the puppies need to be socialised.”

Shino blinks incredulously behind his glasses.

“You’re allergic to their fur.” He points out flatly in lieu of an actual answer, because the last time they had visited, Sai had started sneezing so violently after he pet them that he couldn’t draw the puppies no matter how much he tried or wanted to.

Sai shrugs. “Aneue showed me how to use chakra to block my nose so I won’t start sneezing.”

“That-!” is not a genin-level skill. Is what Shino wants to say. But, as he had suspected for a few months already, it’s likely Sai himself is not actually ‘genin-level’.

“-is useful.” He finishes instead. “And if that will solve your problem, then, yes. I would like to pet the puppies again.”

“Great!” Sai smiles, and then he’s grabbing Shino by the hand again and dragging him away from the table they’d acquired, no doubt in the direction of the Inuzuka compound.

Shino looks at their joined hands, considers how he ended up here, then smiles and lets himself be dragged.

Insects are great, and clever and useful, but they lose out to puppies on the cuteness scale.

Five days after Sakura’s impromptu vacation from Team Ro and two days after she purged the last remnants of cancer from Shin’s lungs, she jerks awake in the middle of the night, a masked ANBU on the outer sill of her window.

“What?” she snaps, pulling the window open and not recognising the mask nor the chakra of the agent who wears it.

Hokage’s office. The ANBU signs. Urgent.

“A mission?” Sakura asks, already stepping away from the window to start pulling out clothes. “Duration?” she checks, glancing back at the agent to check their answer.

Unknown. Comes the wildly unhelpful response. Report to the Hokage A-S-A-P.

“Yeah, yeah, I got that part.” Sakura grumbles under her breath, then makes a shooing motion with her fingers. “I’ll be there in five.”

She packs her bag in a minute, gets some clothes on and shoves rations into a side pocket in another, then finds one of Sai’s charcoal sticks by her bedside table and spends ten seconds scribbling a note to Shin, twenty on the one for Sai, then dedicates a whole two minutes writing out a message to Kakashi.

She’s still writing by the time she shunshins to the Hokage Tower, and she has a split-second to shove the incomplete note for Kakashi into her pocket and fold her fingers around the charcoal stick as the door to Sarutobi’s office swings open.

“Hokage-sama.” She greets, kneeling and putting on her mask as she goes, grateful for the porcelain modulating her voice and removing most of the scorn from it. “You wanted to see me?”

“Your captain told me you were taking a short break from team duties.” Sarutobi greets, and Sakura feels a sudden chill run down her spine, two decades of shinobi instincts stirring anxiously.

“Which is fortunate, because there is a situation in Lightning which requires your expertise.” The Hokage continues, and Sakura isn’t fooled by the factual tone or the kindly look in his eyes.

This is a set-up. Her instincts warn, and Sakura finds she can’t justify her reaction, but neither can she disagree.

“You need to find our informant and then follow through on the information he provides. There is no time limit.” He tosses her a scroll, and Sakura catches it, scans the information, and tosses it back, watching as Sarutobi places it on his ashtray and sets it alight with a flick of a finger.

No time limit. How convenient.

“I’m assigning Lizard as your partner.” At his words, the ANBU who had come knocking on her window materialises at her side, and Sakura distrusts so badly. “Set off as soon as you can. Kumo is a long way from us. Dismissed!”

Meet at the Gates. Lizard signs and disappears from sight, but Sakura changes tracks at the last second and heads for the door, her senses, hyperaware with her suspicion, catching onto a distantly familiar chakra signature that calls forth past-life memories of trust and safety.

She pulls out her message for Kakashi, scribbles out a few more desperate words as she turns her back on the Hokage, and stops Iruka with a hand on his chest before he can make his way into the office.

“Iruka-sensei.” She murmurs, aware that the man doesn’t know her in this life, but her words and the urgency in her tone are enough to stop him in his tracks and make him look down at her, warm brown eyes wary and attentive.

“Give this to Kakashi-taicho, please?” she asks, pressing her scrunched-up note into the man’s hand, careful to keep her body between the message and Sarutobi’s gaze which she can feel boring into them even from fifteen feet away.

Then, she smiles behind her mask and lets some warmth radiate through her chakra.

“Thank you for looking after Sai.” She adds, even quieter than before, and feels the man twitch. “Between the two of us, you’re his favourite teacher.”

Then, she makes herself let go of the note and let the whirl of sealless Shunshin take her away, away from Sarutobi’s scheming ways and Iruka’s concerned gaze.

Iruka stares uncomprehendingly at the spot the unknown ANBU had occupied not seconds previous, his fingers curling unconsciously around the scrunched up piece of paper that had been pressed into his hand, his mind replaying the desperate tone the request had been delivered in and he wonders.

Then, he slips the message into his pocket, years as a prankster granting him a propensity for sleight-of-hand so natural he’s sure even the Hokage doesn’t notice, though the man’s eyes are trained on him with an unusual intensity for the occasion and the time of night.

“Hokage-sama, you really ought to sleep more often.” Iruka greets, allowing himself a more teasing hello than he normally would dare  to hopefully distract from the odd encounter between him and the ANBU.

The thin, head-shorter-than-him ANBU who appears to be a sibling of one of his students and a subordinate of Kakashi’s, and who likely just got sent on a suicide-mission judging by their posture.   

“Coming from you, Iruka-kun?” Sarutobi replies, and though his voice is warm, there is something in his gaze that activates Iruka’s fight-or-flight.

He shrugs sheepishly, aware of his poor sleeping habits, and offers a wry grin as he holds out the stack of folders under his arm.

“I just wanted to get this to you before next week’s Graduation. I’ve annotated the files and added my suggestions for the best-composed teams, assuming, of course, that all their members pass. I thought we could go over them at some point, clarify anything that may need to be clarified.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” The Hokage replies absently, and Iruka isn’t completely sure the man actually registered everything he said – his gaze is trained on Iruka’s empty hand when he puts the folders on the desk.

(The same hand the girl had pressed her message into.)

“But, in fact, I trust your commitment to your students and the thorough nature of your annotations; I’m sure I’ll be able to gleam everything you wanted to convey from your files.” He corrects, and Iruka would admit to doing a slight double-take at the not exactly subtle dismissal.

“There is, however, a matter that requires your expertise.” The Hokage carries on, as if ignorant to Iruka’s bafflement. “A solo mission to Iwa that might require your skills with traps-”

“Hokage-sama, the Graduation is next week!” Iruka interrupts, and normally he would be appalled with himself for his gall, but he hasn’t had a mission outside the Village in over six months, and he certainly has never had one assigned to him this close to Graduation.

“I am aware, Iruka.” Sarutobi responds, colder than before, the usual fond ‘-kun’ conspicuously absent and Iruka straightens, wondering if he’s crossed some line.

“But it’s just a retrieval mission. I didn’t think that to be beyond the skills of our educators. Particularly not yours.” He pauses, and Iruka swallows. “Or was I wrong?”

“No.” he replies, then bows his head, wondering if he has the time to stop by Izumo and Kotetsu’s so at least someone will know where he’s going. “Of course not, Hokage-sama.”

“Good.” There’s a hard edge to the man’s voice Iruka’s only heard once before, and Iruka fights the urge to screw his eyes shut. “You leave immediately. Dismissed.”

And so Iruka leaves, feeling as if he’s walking to his death.

The day before Sai’s Graduation, Shin’s treating his brother to a celebratory Yakiniku; there’s no doubt in either of their minds that Sai will pass, and Shin reckons that surviving the Academy without calling out the nonsense the instructors preach daily or attacking any of the Clan kids for their sheer brattiness deserves a reward.

“Aneue won’t make it, will she?” Sai asks suddenly, a propos nothing, stirring his noodles glumly, eyes adamantly not meeting Shin’s.

“No.” Shin replies, blunt as ever, and cringes a little at himself when Sai shrinks in on himself a little. “I mean, probably not, but I know she’s doing everything she can to get back in time for your Graduation, and she’ll spoil you even more rotten once she’s back.”

“I miss her.” Sai sighs, and Shin inclines his head in silent agreement. “Will you be there, aniki?”

“Of course.” Shin responds automatically, because he will, it’s the least that Sai deserves from him.

And though he can’t be proud at a high chunin-level shinobi graduating the Academy like Sakura can – because it was obvious from the beginning that Sai would graduate – he nonetheless recognises that Sai wants him there, and if there’s anything he and Sakura actively agree on, it’s that ensuring Sai’s happiness is always in the Top 3 of their priorities.

Sai brightens at that, going back to eating his noodles, but Shin spots something that makes him curse, caught off-guard, and snap a quick “Sai, scram.” to his brother, who takes one look at Shin’s face and grabs his bowl before disappearing in a sealless shunshin that would’ve made Shisui proud.

Hatake Kakashi meets his eyes once Shin turns back to look at him, and he wonders how much that gaze, so similar to his own in colour and the distrust hidden within, actually saw.

“Do you know where I can find your sister?” Hatake asks, no greeting, as he approaches Shin’s table, Uzuki and Shiranui flanking him like misplaced bodyguards.

“Hello to you too, Hatake-san, I am well, thank you.” Shin mocks, the lack of Sakura to filter him showing in the distaste that drips from his words.

He sees Shiranui bite his cheek to control his expression and barely withholds his own smirk.

“I need to hand her the reassignment papers, and I would rather not draw this out any more than I have to.” Hatake announces blankly, waving a folded sheet of paper by Shin’s face, and Shin’s amusement fades instantly.

“Reassignment?” he echoes, confused, noting Uzuki’s sad countenance and Hatake’s icier-than-normal mien with new eyes. “Why?”

“It’s been over a week.” Hatake replies, and Shin remembers what Sakura told him before she healed his lungs; an ultimatum. “She didn’t show up for training. I was persuaded to give the benefit of the doubt for the first two days, but even I am not so charitable.”

Shin feels his patience snap at the same time as his chakra rages. He gets to his feet, absently slamming down the needed change to cover his and Sai’s meals, and squares up until he’s nose-to-chin with the Hatake menace.

“She didn’t show up for training because she’s on a mission, you numbskull.” He seethes, sees Hatake’s eye widen as he appears to revaluate something, but Shin’s too busy digging around his pocket for the note Sakura had left him, which he shoves into Hatake’s chest with unnecessary force as soon as his fingers close on it. “Besides, aren’t you a tracker? Don’t you have ninken for this precise purpose?”

“We practised tracking evasion.” Shiranui supplies absently, his eyes – curiously enough – not on Shin, but on the tense lines of Hatake’s shoulders and back.

“Extensively.” Uzuki adds, with barely hidden distaste.

Shin knows what the note says, has memorised the hastily-scrawled lines within minutes of finding the note on his nightstand, and he watches as Hatake familiarises himself with the content, his moment of realisation visible despite the mask covering ¾ of his face.

Shin,
Unknown ANBU came knocking. No mission details given. I don’t like this. I’ll inform Kakashi, you take care of our brother.
If I don’t return, take him and run.

“’Run’?” Shiranui echoes, and Hatake twitches when he realises his teammates have used his moment of inattention to read over his shoulder. “Run where? Surely she doesn’t mean-?”

Shin can’t be sure what expression is currently on his face, but whatever it is, it seems to confirm to Shiranui that yes, ‘take our brother and run the fuck away from this place’ is precisely what Sakura meant.

Shiranui whistles, but doesn’t comment beyond that.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Hatake asks, and Shin rolls his eyes, praying to all the gods he doesn’t believe in for patience, because if he prays for strength, he’s gonna deck this asshole.

“Can you read?” he sneers, but doesn’t give Hatake the time to retort before he explains. “I thought you’d received her message. Or the Hokage had told you she was on a mission.”

“I didn’t. He didn’t.” Hatake replies, but it seems to be more to himself than to Shin, his tone thoughtful, and, if Shin were inclined to be optimistic, it sounds suspicious. “But where could it have-?”

His question is answered by a terse ‘Hatake!’ and all three jounin plus Shin turn towards the voice.

Shin admits to doing a double-take at the sight of Sai’s Academy sensei coming towards them, looking bloodied, exhausted, and sporting a visible limp, his uniform torn and stained.

“Iruka?” Shiranui gasps, worry evident in his eyes as he takes in the state of the younger man, reaching out to catch him when he makes it to their small group and sways, drained. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Hey, Genma.” The teacher replies tiredly, though he still manages a small smile for the poison specialist, before the second half of what he’d said appears to register and he snorts. “Surprise solo mission and bad intel. But, more importantly, here, Hatake.”

And so saying, he reaches into the inner pocket of his flak jacket, leaning most of his weight on Shiranui when his balance threatens to give out again, and offers Hatake a folded-up piece of paper, splattered with blood and slightly frayed, but mostly intact.

“I was asked to give this to you before my mission. Some ANBU agent. Called you ‘taicho’ though, so.” He shrugs, fatigue whittling away at the façade of the eloquent and respected teacher Shin is familiar with until only a young man not much older than him is left, and the dichotomy itches at him almost as much as this entire situation does.  

Kakashi unravels the message with careful fingers, and though his hands don’t shake, there’s something fragile about the man just then, and Shin almost, almost feels sorry for him. He watches as Hatake reads, once, twice, then his eye closes and he tilts his face skyward, regret etched into every visible line of his face.

“Well?” Shin demands. “Share with the class.”

Genma carefully steals the note from Kakashi’s loose grip, and when the man doesn’t object beyond turning away from their small group, hiding his face in the collar of his jacket, the line of his shoulders tense, he begins to read.

“’Kakashi.” Shiranui begins, and Shin sees Uzuki start, and can’t help but wonder why. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair. You’ve trusted me, risked yourself and the team for me, and I haven’t appreciated that enough. Truth is, you’re a legend. So when we sparred, I went into it thinking of a battle to the death with Hatake-Kakashi-the-Copy-Nin, rather than a friendly spar with my obstinate taicho whom I know and love. In short, I expected to get my ass kicked six ways from Sunday. I didn’t entertain the possibility of winning, so when I did, my paranoia got the better of me and I thought the worst of you. I’m sorry. For that and for lashing out. I love our team. I trust our team. Yes, that means I trust you. And I know that, in your own way, you trust me. I’m on my way to a debriefing for a mission now, something secret and solo from the looks of things, but, let’s be a team once I get back? I miss annoying you.”

Shin sighs. Trust Sakura to take his advice and use it in the most unexpected way imaginable. Then, he tenses when Shiranui’s eyes widen and he adds a choked ‘wait, there’s more’.

Shin snatches the letter out of his hand, startling Umino who was almost falling asleep on the tokujo’s side, and turns his attention to the contents of the letter. Scrawled in the margins are desperate tidbits of information Sakura must’ve caught in the Hokage’s office, likely mere moments before she had to head out judging by the hasty script.

“’Kumo. No time limit. Set up?’” he reads, then flips the page around, eyes catching on some smudges at the bottom right corner on the back side of the letter, and he squints at the cramped writing there. “’ANBU agent…Lizard’?”

Hatake freezes.

Either he hadn’t noticed that part of the letter, or he hadn’t been able to read Sakura’s writing, but now he and Uzuki are staring at Shin like he’s grown a second head.

“What did you say?” Hatake asks, at the same time as Uzuki breathes a quiet ‘that’s not possible’, and Shin doesn’t like it.

“It says,” he repeats, flipping the page around so they can read the message for themselves, “ANBU agent Lizard. I’m assuming she’s referring to her mission partner.”

“Lizard was KIA a month ago.” Hatake relays flatly, and now even Umino is paying attention, despite his obvious fatigue.

“When an ANBU agent becomes KIA, their mask is retired; it doesn’t come back into circulation for six months.” Uzuki answers the unspoken question, and Shin feels his blood run cold. “It’s meant to be a…respectful gesture, I guess.”

“So, you’re telling me,” Shin begins, deceptively mildly, and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction out of the fact that Shiranui takes a step away from him, Umino following like a shadow, “that my sister is currently on a Hokage-approved secret mission somewhere in Kumo, with an ANBU agent who, for all we know, isn’t even in ANBU, and we have no means of contacting her?”

“That’s it.” Hatake declares, snatching the note out of his fingers and pocketing it quicker than Shin can blink. “I’m going after her.”

“No, you’re not.” Umino jumps in with surprising energy, grabbing onto Hatake’s sleeve and yanking the man back, a scowl on his face. “You are meeting your new genin team in 36 hours.”

“Well,” Shin murmurs, and his voice sounds far away even to him, his mind reeling, ears ringing, “this was nice. But I’ve got a sister to find, if you’ll excuse me.”

But before he can get more than two feet away, a hand wraps around his wrist with a deceptively strong grip and pulls him right into Hatake’s chest, startling a wheezed ‘oof’ out of the man.

“You’re not going anywhere either, Shin-kun.” Umino scolds, and Shin feels oddly chastised. “Your brother’s graduation is tomorrow, now that your sister can’t make it, you better be there if you know what’s good for you.”

Shiranui snorts a laugh, then wraps an arm around the teacher’s shoulder when he sways, exhausted once again.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Izumo.” He points out teasingly, but Iruka smiles wryly.

“Izumo and Kotetsu nagging me to come spar with them is the only reason I survived this mission, Gen.” Umino confesses, then sighs, pulling away from Shiranui’s embrace and wobbling only slightly before he catches his balance. “Speaking of, I need to thank them.” And so saying, he disappears in a cloud of smoke.

Shin blinks. He didn’t see Umino use any hand-signs. Huh.

“What will you do?” Uzuki asks quietly, fear and suspicion clear in her voice, though for once, it’s not suspicion aimed at Shin.

“I’ll go to my brother’s Graduation.” He replies dutifully, mind whirring. “And then, I’ll go after my sister. Hatake, I know you want to go, but there are more eyes on you than almost any other jounin in the Village. And, while I’m touched by the care and support you’ve shown Sakura,” he addresses Uzuki and Shiranui, “you’re both still active duty jounin. As for me, however, as far as the Village is concerned, I’m just a civilian. Nobody will miss me.”

Hatake surprises him when he meets Shin’s eyes and holds his gaze for a few seconds, before offering a short, affirmative nod.

“Be careful.” He murmurs, and Shin is too shocked by the words to react immediately, but by then, the man is gone, only a swirl of leaves left as a testament to him ever being there in the first place.

And all Shin can think, momentarily startled beyond coherent thought for the second time in as many minutes, is:

Huh.

Sakura expected something to go awry the moment she left the Village, what with the middle-of-the-night summons, cryptic instructions, and with an ANBU she didn’t recognise and who refused to speak for some reason as her partner.

But they got through the Land of Fire without incident.

Upon crossing into the Land of Hot Water, there were some missing-nin and skirmishes with rogue-nin passing by, but nothing that roused her suspicion too much, although there was a theory slowly building in the back of her mind when she thought back on those attacks when they made camp.

Frost was much the same; far too many incidents for what she would normally expect on a simple border crossing, but nothing outlandish.

And then, they crossed into Lightning, and suddenly, it felt as if all bets were off. Their attackers were suddenly jounin-level, unaffiliated, without even the crossed-out headband of missing-nin. Simply nameless, rank-less, nation-less shinobi who were clearly out for blood, but during that entire mess, Sakura’s theory became fact:

None of their attackers targeted Lizard.

Oh, that wasn’t to say Lizard wasn’t fighting. But the type of attacks that reached them were all non-lethal. Not aimed to kill or even permanently incapacitate.

Almost as if it was all intentional.

This is a set-up. The voice in Sakura’s mind whispers again, radiating conviction this time.

Yeah, she agrees, as she massacres their assailants with a wave of untamed Mokuton, then turns to sink a kunai into Lizard’s jugular in the next second, it is.

Question is, are we really surprised?

Sai stares at Iruka-sensei, his eyes wide in quiet disbelief, then he sighs and turns to shoot Shino a quick nod when he hears the concerned buzz of his friend’s kikaichu by his ear.

Team Seven: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, and Sai. Your sensei is Hatake Kakashi.

There are a few murmurs around the class; an all-boy team hasn’t been seen in decades, that much Sai knows for sure, but his mind is stuck on the fact that Sakura and Shin managed to correctly pin down  the small group out of which his future sensei would be chosen years in advance. The fact that he’s being assigned to his sister’s ANBU captain while said sister is still MIA assures him that his siblings’ plan worked and Hatake Kakashi has no clue who he is.

And, well.

He’s had fun duping the Academy teachers as to his real skill-level for the last three years. It might be even more fun to extend that prank to a jounin.

All that’s left is to survive his teammates.

Sai sighs, and waves hello to the headache he can feel building in his temples every time he has to interact with Uzumaki Naruto. Then, he turns in his seat and beckons the blond over to him with a small smile, feeling some of his frustration ebb away when his new teammate brightens and bounces over to his seat, his hitai-ate glinting in the morning sun from its point of pride on his forehead.

Sai’s smile becomes a touch more genuine.

“Hello, Uzumaki-san. I look forward to working with you.”

Sasuke doesn’t like his new teacher.

Not only was the man two hours late to their first meeting, he also fell for the dobe’s eraser prank, and then ordered them to show up to one of the most remote training grounds in the Village the next morning at the asscrack of dawn, with instructions not to eat breakfast. Like, what?

And then, if that wasn’t enough for Sasuke to immediately dislike the man, he proceeded to give them the most convoluted genin test he’s ever heard of. What even is a bell test, anyway? And don’t genin teams always operate with four members?

“Uchiha-san.”

Sasuke startles from his lookout position, glancing up sharply at his new teammate whom he didn't even hear approach.

"What?" He whispers, bearing in mind that he's meant to be hiding, having seen what confronting Hatake head-on did to Naruto. 

"I do not advise taking Hatake-san on by yourself, as you clearly intend to.” Sai offers, his voice blander than what little of his personality Sasuke’s witnessed. “The man is a jounin and an ex-ANBU, you're a fresh genin. Those odds aren't favourable."

Sasuke scowls, barely resisting the urge to bare his teeth in a snarl. "Shut up! Go bother the dobe!"

An unimpressed, judgemental eyebrow meets his outburst, and something about his teammate’s countenance makes him think Itachi.

Then, Sai speaks:

"You're right. I might actually have more luck talking sense into him than into you. Good luck, Uchiha-san." 

And so saying, Sai disappears.

Sasuke loses. Badly. 

His face is so close to the ground that on every other breath, breathes in dust and ends up coughing. 

Then, as he's contemplating how long his new sensei is planning to leave him like this, Sai emerges from the bushes, with Naruto in tow, and Sasuke feels his patience snap.

"Hah! Look at you, teme! Not so-!" the dobe is blissfully cut off by Sai covering his mouth with his hand and shooting him a reprimanding look.

"Antagonising Uchiha-san is counterproductive to what we're hoping to accomplish, Uzumaki-san." He chastises, bizarrely formal, and though the words are mild, they feel like a scolding, and Naruto clearly takes them as such.

Then, because he apparently insists on not making sense, Sai proceeds to settle cross-legged next to Sasuke's head, his knee mere inches away from the raven’s cheek. 

"I hope that what you want to accomplish is freeing me, or I swear, Sai-!"

"Patience, Uchiha-san. I know the jutsu our sensei used on you, you can be free in seconds." 

I know the jutsu. Sasuke narrows his eyes. He knows he can’t judge, being proficient in Fire-ninjutsu when most fresh genin struggle with anything higher than E-Rank, but Sai never once appeared as someone hailing from a Clan capable of teaching him high level Earth-ninjutsu over the three years he’s been in the Academy, so he’s suspicious.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he demands instead, not sure how to articulate what he’s thinking without appearing paranoid.

"I'm minimising the chances of you running away before we can tell you our plan." Sai states simply, as if it was a perfectly normal response.

Naruto snickers. Sasuke wants to kick him.

"Go on." He bites out instead, bitter and humiliated.

"As I’ve already told you, Hatake Kakashi is a jounin and ex-ANBU Captain. We had no chances of winning against him individually, and even if we worked together, we wouldn't have defeated him.”

Sasuke wonders whether Sai ever learnt what ‘sugarcoating one’s words’ means. Probably not.

“But he's famous for enforcing teamwork on all his squads, and dividing us with the lie about the two bells is a good strategy to blindside us to the mere idea of working together." Sai concludes, and he sounds – the bastard – like he’s grudgingly impressed.

"Why would I work with the teme, though? You said yourself we can't defeat him even if we do." Naruto grumbles, and Sasuke grudgingly seconds the point, though he keeps that to himself.

"I said we wouldn't be able to defeat Hatake-san, but we should be able to achieve the mission objective." When both, Sasuke and Naruto stare blankly, he elaborates. "We can get the bells." 

Sasuke’s suspicion skyrockets, and even the dead-last frowns, so he feels more confident in voicing it: "You sound like you have a plan, but how confident are you in your intel?"

Sai blinks at the question.

"My sister is on his ANBU squad." He says simply, and Sasuke's brain stalls. "I'm very confident."

"Haaaa?" Naruto gawks, apparently similarly thrown to Sasuke himself. "I didn't know you had siblings!"

"I have two." Sai conforms, though he looks a little confused, if Sasuke is reading him right. "Aneue and aniki."

Aniki.

"How come I've never seen them pick you up from the Academy?" Sasuke demands, because his family relations may have been far from perfect long before Itachi somehow killed their entire Clan in one night, but that seemed like a safe staple for siblings no matter what background they hailed from.

A tiny frown appears on Sai's face, and Sasuke knows he's going to slam the breaks on the conversation even before he speaks.

"How about we leave introductions to after we get the bells from Hatake-san?" he misdirects, and while Sasuke scowls, he concedes to the wisdom of the suggestion.

Kakashi finds himself bored.

It's not all that surprising, really, considering he's gone from ANBU to fresh-genin, but he's not used to the sensation of boredom.

Naturally, there’s also the low-level, burning worry for Sakura’s well-being twisting in his gut, particularly after Pakkun relayed that he couldn’t sense Shin or Sakura’s chakra in the Village anymore. That had been two days ago. But, like Sakura’s brother had oh so kindly informed him, there’s not much he can do until he either passes or fails the brats the Hokage’s trying to saddle him with this time.

On the topic of the brats, he reckons he should be more impressed with Naruto's kage bunshin and Sasuke's taijutsu and proficiency with the Uchiha-style Fireball than he is, but he's been a bit spoiled when it comes to having child geniuses on his teams. 

He's even stopped making the effort to hide, choosing instead to stand in the middle of the clearing, tauntingly close to the alarm clock which gets closer and closer to midday with every passing second. In mere twenty minutes, he'll be able to fail the kids, hoist Sasuke off on some other jounin and go back to his ANBU team and organise a proper search party for his youngest member. 

Only that doesn't happen.

Instead, a dozen clones burst from the foliage, heading for him in waves of four, and though dispatching them is child's play once they reach him, Kakashi isn't expecting the tanto that suddenly appears in front of him, heading with unerring precision for his throat. 

The strike comes from his thus-far unseen student, and Kakashi does a double-take at the force behind the blow which he only just manages to block with his kunai. The boy either used a low-level genjutsu to blend with the clones or Kakashi is truly out of it (because he carefully refuses to entertain the possibility of a fresh genin being capable of disappearing on him). Still, with four clones left, he's just about to kawarimi and get out of the melee when two Narutos suddenly drop to sit on his feet like weighted manacles, and one of the remaining clones poofs into Sasuke.

The Uchiha and the clone Kakashi realises is the real Naruto get closer, but neither are holding weapons - instead, Naruto goes directly for the Icha Icha Kakashi's still holding in his left hand, while Sasuke reaches for his mask.

And that's without addressing the fact that Sai's tanto is moving, the pressure against his kunai disappearing as the boy drops low and targets his now-exposed abdomen – what with weights on his legs and two teenagers to fend off with both arms – and Kakashi's heart skips a beat, because surely not. 

Then, he forgoes thinking and reaches for his chakra, pulling off his clumsiest, seal-less kawarimi in years, but he finds it difficult to care.

His mask is still up, his book is safe, and his guts are still on the inside, where they should be.

Then, his stomach drops and he brushes a hand against his belt.

The bells are gone.

More than a little disbelieving, he glances down at the clearing, just in time to see Sai hand one bell to Sasuke, while Naruto is already admiring the one he's holding with a smug expression.

But when?

Realising that he needs answers, he flashes down to the clearing where the boys are standing, book tucked away in his pouch.

"So. You got the bells." he begins, assessing each of the boys in turn. 

Sasuke's guard goes up the moment he spots him, his fist tightening around the bell in his grasp, while Naruto scowls and shoves his into his pocket, his entire posture radiating a challenge.

"Sai, I saw you hand your bell to Sasuke.” Kakashi informs the least vocal and demonstrative of his students thus far. “You do realise that means going back to the Academy, no? Do you want to reconsider?"

The boy, and, Kakashi thinks, he really wouldn't have looked out of place amongst the Uchiha Clan, once, merely shakes his head.

"No, thank you." he replies politely. "I enjoyed the Academy, I wouldn't mind going back for another year."

He tilts his head and smiles, eyes closed, and the expression makes Kakashi twitch for some reason.

"Besides, Uchiha-san can't be seen going back to the Academy as the Rookie of the Year, and Uzumaki-san wants to be Hokage. I have neither such status nor lofty goals. Thank you for your time, Hatake-san."

And with a shallow bow, Sai turns as if to leave, only there's something about that whole performance that rubs Kakashi the wrong way, though he struggles to pin down exactly what.

"Wait-" he says, and the boy stops, glancing back over his shoulder though he's barely five metres away. "-you pass."

Naruto looks as surprised to hear the words as Kakashi feels at having said them.

"Wait, all of us? All three?" Minato-sensei’s son asks, jumping up and down in his enthusiasm in a way that screams Kushina, then digs out his bell. "Then what was the point of this?"

"You wanted to divide us." Sasuke observes, and he sounds less like he's stating a fact and more like he's realising something himself, and that suspicion is confirmed when he shoots a glance at Sai. 

"I did." Kakashi agrees. "Genin teams are the closest-knit units in all ranks until you get to ANBU. If you can't work together at this level, you have no business being genin."

"Wow, Sai!" Naruto cheers, bells forgotten, reaching out to pat the raven on the back, and Kakashi's sure he's not imagining the aborted twitch Sai's hand makes for his kunai pouch. "Lucky we had you to talk sense into Sasuke-teme!"

Sasuke bristles and looks about to snap, but Sai shakes his head, a demure smile in place.

"We're lucky you and Uchiha-san decided to engage Hatake-san at the start so that I could gather the intel we needed." he replies, and Sasuke subsides, looking smug.

That was...a rather masterful dissolution of conflict before it had a chance to become a true conflict, Kakashi muses, eyes narrowing. Interesting.

"Now, since you passed, I believe we should do introductions." he announces at last, making a mental note of the situation to consider later. "And then we can spar."

"Hatake-san, if I may?" Sai asks, and Kakashi arches an eyebrow at the overly-formal address.

"Kakashi-sensei will do just fine, Sai." he points out, then nods. "But go on?"

"Since you instructed us not to eat breakfast and it's currently nearing noon, I don't think a spar today will show you the true extent of our abilities. Why not go for lunch after the introductions, then maybe spar tomorrow?"

As if on cue, Naruto's stomach growls, and even Sasuke appears to agree with the suggestion, if the way his eyes widen at the mention of food is any indication.

Kakashi sighs, and resigns himself to pay for three growing teenage boys and himself.

He’ll get them used to his habits soon, but, just this once, he can play nice.

Correction: he thought he could play nice.

Then they got to the introductions.

"My name is Uzumaki Naruto and I'm going to be Hokage one day! I like ramen and Ichiraku and Iruka-sensei, I don't like having to wait for ramen or cleaning! I want to be Hokage!"

Standard, if highlighting a distinct lack of hobbies or friends. Pay attention to diet. Look out for antisocial tendencies? Dig for reasons behind the goal of Hokage.

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I like training. I don't like stupidity. My goal is to...find a certain man."

…Depressing. Even fewer hobbies. Interesting choice of language with ‘find’. Probe mental state, check attitude towards Itachi.

"I'm Sai. I enjoy drawing. I don't like hypocrites and the ubiquitous governing system of military dictators seeking to subjugate all people."

It takes Kakashi a second to realise that those words did, in fact, just come out of the mouth of a twelve-year-old genin, then Sai continues: "My goal is for my family to be happy."

Kakashi is pretty sure he's just gotten whiplash.

Well…at least there’s a hobby?

He looks between his three new brats, studies the youth in their faces, despairs at the various degrees of naivete contrasted by shadows of tragedy in all three pairs of eyes, and quietly curses all the gods he no longer believes in.

Who thought giving him kids was a good idea?!

Chapter Text

Shin would've been able to find Sakura anyway, thanks to his extended stay in the hospital sharpening his chakra sensitivity even more than ROOT had, but the fact that the moment he crosses the border of Lightning, he's greeted by Sakura's summon melting out of the shadows and falling into step with him as he runs through the trees, definitely helps matters.

He's...touched that Sakura hadn't even doubted that he'd come after her following the note she’d left him.

"What happened, Yū?" he mutters to the summon as he adjusts his course to what the tiger indicates, his voice flat with perfected ROOT flatness despite the worry eating at his insides.

"I think it's best to wait for Sakura-hime to show you."

Show him?

"What do you-?"

"Just wait." Yū huffs irritably, and Shin wonders why Sakura couldn't have summoned Ryū to wait for him instead. Still, he subsides, dedicating his energy that isn't going towards keeping pace with the summon to considering possible scenarios.

And then, he feels Sakura's chakra, though it's appropriately subdued considering they're in enemy territory. Still, he's not prepared to come out of the trees straight at an outcropping of rocks, and to see Sakura sat by what looks like the mouth of a cave, ANBU mask discarded, gaze trained sightlessly on the body laying at her feet.

"Hime," Yū greets amicably, slinking up to her, bumping his nose against her shoulder, "you should summon me for a fight next time. I'm bored of being an escort."

Sakura smiles at her summon, though it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you, Yū. I will." she promises absently, scratching the adolescent tiger behind his ears. "You can go now, unless you'd like to stay?"

Instead of verbally replying, Yū sets off in a light trot in the direction him and Shin have just come from, throwing a simple 'perimeter' in response to their wordless question.

Then, Sakura's gaze settles on Shin, and whatever light that had been in her eyes when talking with her summon fades.

"What's going on?" Shin asks as he draws closer, grabbing Sakura by the arm and pulling her up into a desperate hug, noting as she winces when he wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her closer.

Sakura returns the embrace, letting herself sink into the hug for a few seconds, before she steps back, expression steeling.

"What's going on," she murmurs, so quiet even he has to strain to hear, "is sabotage. And the Hokage not honoring our deal."

Before Shin can voice a reply, Sakura nudges the corpse at their feet, tipping the mask covering the ANBU's face until it falls off, along with the hood covering their hair.

Shin stares for a few seconds, wondering why the face looks familiar. Then, his gaze falls to the long navy hair revealed by the hood, and he sucks in a breath.

"That's-!"

"-Nezumi." Sakura cuts him off, expression grim, studying the features of the teen that had been Danzo's right-hand man for as long as they'd been in ROOT.

The man was in his early to mid-twenties, if Shin's guess is correct, older than Shisui but younger than Hatake or Shiranui, and his face is pale, the tan line between his face and neck clear even in the early-evening light.

"But, that means," Shin murmurs, brain working in double-time as he considers the new information, "that Sarutobi is treating the ROOT members too old to be reconditioned as his own personal force."

Just as Danzo had been, he thinks but doesn't say, but judging by the frown on Sakura's brow, she gets the meaning just the same.

"It's a win-win scenario." she comments idly, eyes trained on Nezumi's lifeless ones. "If he'd succeeded on this mission, he'd have likely been killed anyway, and it wouldn't have mattered, because there're no official records of him. If he'd failed, as he has, it also doesn't matter to the Village at large, because he's Danzo's used goods. He's no-one. He has no-one."

They take a second to absorb that, and Shin wonders if it's callous of him to admire the Sandaime's grit, because if Sakura's guess is correct, then his strategy is genius.

Then-

"How did he die?" Shin asks, because from what he can see of the wound on Nezumi's throat, the angle looks weird. Almost as if-

"I killed him." Sakura informs him promptly, not a hint of regret in her voice. "We were ambushed a few times along the way, but it only got really bad once we crossed into Lightning. I noticed none of the enemies were trying very hard to actually kill him. First time, it was a coincidence. Second, I was suspicious. Suffice to say, by the time we got to Kumo proper, it was no longer a theory. That, as well as the fact that he refused to speak the whole time kinda tipped it for me."

Shin stifles an involuntary shudder. Sure, maybe it took him a few seconds to place the face, but he'd have been able to recognise Nezumi's lifeless voice anywhere, even modulated by the ANBU mask as it likely had been.

"What now?" Shin asks quietly, because he has theories, he has plans, but none of them feel right and it doesn't change the fact that Sai is still in the Village, alone.

"Now?" Sakura echoes idly, the corner of her lips ticking up, though the expression is wry more than humorous. She digs out a scroll from her pack, black edged with gold, and unfurls it over Nezumi, bending down to put his mask over his face before she seals his body within the scroll.

"Now, we go into Kumo to see whether there's any actual informant to speak of. Then, we go back to Konoha, pretend none-the-wiser, I go back to ANBU, and you work at joining the shinobi ranks and integrating into the Village."

Shin blinks. How can she be so-?!

"How can you be so calm?!" he demands, deciding to voice his disbelief, and Sakura's gaze flicks to him, a single eyebrow arched in wordless question as she tucks the scroll with Nezumi's body into her pouch.

"You were sabotaged! You're injured!" Because he's finally been able to find the reason for Sakura's wince when he'd hugged her - her left arm hangs at completely the wrong angle, her ulna visibly snapped. "Our brother is in the Village, alone, at the mercy of the Sandaime!"

"He got Kakashi as his sensei, didn't he?" Sakura asks, though it doesn't really sound like a question. "Kakashi would sooner die than let anything happen to anyone under his command, especially genin. Sai's the safest he could possibly hope to be."

"That's a remarkable perspective shift in only a few days," Shin snaps, irritable and disbelieving, "excuse me if I still have my doubts about the man."

"I never doubted that Kakashi's a good man." Sakura sighs, eyes falling on Yū at the same time Shin feels the tiger unmask his chakra as he no doubt returns from his self-assigned scouting mission. "I was scared of him because he's a good shinobi."

Shin scoffs and forcefully wrestles his temper back under control. He sighs and steps closer, gesturing at Sakura’s arm, and follows her murmured instructions as he gets to setting the bone. Sakura’s medical chakra smooths over the arm, now straight, and Shin methodically goes about wrapping it in the bandages she offers and splinting it with the piece of flat, long bark Yū drops at his feet. He uses the rest of the bandage once the makeshift splint is secure to tie it off around Sakura’s neck in a mimicry of a sling, then steps back.

"Let's go find this supposed informant of yours." he orders brusquely, turning to what he hopes is the direction of the capital of Kumo. "And you can explain your thought process to me, thoroughly, on the way."

Sakura doesn't reply, merely pets Yū distractedly as he sidles close enough, then wordlessly gestures at the summon to take point and correct their course.

But, once they're running, she dutifully does what Shin asked, and he has to admit, her plan does make sense.

Sort of.

If he squints.

Kakashi's head is a mess.

It also doesn't help that he's now apparently a fucking jounin sensei, because the kids just had to go and pass his test. Seeing Minato-sensei's and Kushina's reflections in Naruto is just as painful as he'd been afraid it would be, and though Sasuke not looking too much like Obito is a small blessing, Sai makes up for it in his personality.

It is also abundantly clear that though Sasuke had said 'find' Itachi instead of 'kill' him, which the preliminary Psych evals following the Massacre had indicated he'd say, he isn't exactly good at the whole... 'making friends' thing.

Which Naruto's finding out the hard way.

Kakashi decided the moment the brats passed the test that he wouldn't be getting emotionally attached. He's going do his duty, get them all safely through the Chunin Exams, then fade back into ANBU, with his team. Now that all members of said team seem to be on the same page, if the note Sakura's left him is to be believed, he’s actually looking forward to it.

Granted that Sakura returns from her mission, of course.

Kakashi sighs again.

"Sensei," Sai's voice startles him, and he jerks his gaze from where he's been absently watching Naruto and Sasuke wrestle in the grass, paint going all over the ground and their clothes instead of the fence they'd been tasked with painting, to the pale teen at his side.

He didn't even hear Sai approach. Is he really that out of it?

"Yes, Sai?" he asks idly, making sure his voice is as close to its usual drawl as he can get it, and subtly pockets the kunai he'd half-drawn.

"This is the moment where you step in and separate them, and assign some light punishment." the raven tells him frankly, and Kakashi's eyebrows soar.

"Are you telling me how to teach my students?" he checks after a beat, mildly incredulous, but Sai just nods.

"Iruka-sensei said that jounin don't get training for how to teach genin. I thought letting you know what the Academy sensei usually did in this situation might help." the boy explains simply.

"And why do you think Sasuke and Naruto should be punished?" Kakashi asks, rather than dwelling on the fact that he apparently looks confused enough for a fresh genin to notice it.

"Because," the boy begins slowly, his head tilted curiously as he considers Kakashi, "I managed to paint all of my section, and go grab us all lunch, while Uzumaki-san and Uchiha-san haven't even finished half of their respective sections."

Kakashi blinks, then shoots a glance at the plastic bag next to Sai's foot which he's sure wasn't there before, and it's undoubtedly a stack of bento boxes that peeks out at him from the folds of the bag.

...A fresh genin disappeared on him.

What the fuck.

He realises belatedly that Sai is still talking.

"-ntion that you said we should be a team. Petty individual rivalries aren't conducive to a supportive team environment."

"...They're teenage boys." Kakashi offers at last, because 'petty rivalries' are normal for that age, aren't they?

Sai's face manages to - respectfully - tell him just what he thinks of his comment.

"So am I." the boy shoots back when Kakashi doesn't react to his raised eyebrow, and Kakashi has to grudgingly give him the point.

Still, he waits a few seconds for the opportune moment to arrive before he follows Sai's advice.

"Okay, brats!" He calls, using a shunshin to reach Naruto and Sasuke and grab them by the scruffs of their shirts, easily pulling the boys away from each other. "Since you're lagging this badly, and not doing what you've been tasked with, you'll be running punishment laps as soon as you're done with this! So, chop-chop, get to it, or Hokage-sama will think even D-Rank missions are beyond you!"

He ignores the indignant squawks and all but tosses Naruto and Sasuke at their respective parts of the fence, watching resignedly as they turn painting into a competition too.

He sighs again, but when he speaks, it's with his usual fake cheer.

"I'll inspect your fence carefully, and every messy streak or missed part will be an added lap!" he announces, and nearly snorts when the boys immediately slow down, the threat in his words clear.

He slinks back to the treeline where Sai is casually eating his lunch, and he's still reeling a bit from being snuck up on, as well as the boy's words, so he's feeling a little mean.

"Since you're so dedicated to this idea of team building, you'll be running laps with Naruto and Sasuke. Camaraderie is built through shared suffering, you know?" he informs the boy lightly, watching carefully, but the teen doesn't even pause in his steady process of devouring his noodles.

"Sure, sensei." Sai replies, unbothered. He glances up at Kakashi and shoots him a sunny smile, eyes creasing shut. "I quite enjoy running, I don't mind."

Kakashi...doesn't know how to react to that, but a little voice in his head whispers Kakashi: 0, sneaky bratling: 1.

A week and a half after being assigned his team, Kakashi's eyes snap to the treeline half-way through morning training, and a moment later, a vaguely familiar tiger emerges.

Has it really been less than a month since he first laid eyes on Sakura's summon?

"Hatake-san." The tiger greets leisurely as it sidles up to him, and his kids are too busy sweating through his slightly altered ANBU boot-camp to notice the new arrival. "Glad to see you're not bleeding anymore."

"Ah. Yū, if I'm not mistaken." Kakashi acknowledges the summon, feeling a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. He's aware he didn't make the best of impressions on the tiger the first time they'd met. "Is everything alright?"

"I've been relegated to the role of messenger." the tiger informs him wryly, then seems to straighten a little, and his next words are surer, his voice made to carry. "The Hime is alive and well. Her and her brother returned to the Village last night."

"Woah, Sai, you alright?!" Naruto's voice reaches Kakashi, even louder than usual, and he snaps his gaze to the part of the forest his kids are currently wading through, taking in the way Sai seems to have suddenly collapsed, his fall nearly off-balancing Sasuke and making Naruto have to grab a low-hanging branch to keep him and the Uchiha on their feet.

"Yes, Uzumaki-san." Sai replies shortly, nodding as he pushes back to his feet. There's a blindfold over his eyes, while Naruto's got industrial-grade ear-plugs in, and Sasuke has a hitai-ate over his mouth.

"I merely tripped." Sai adds, likely for Sasuke's benefit, and the Uchiha huffs and steadies the other boy when he straightens.

It's no small feat, considering that Kakashi was indulging his mean streak and tied their ankles together, with the surly Uchiha in the middle, since he'd been the one responsible for Kakashi's most recent headache.

The assignment of 'get around the training ground without killing each other' might've seemed simple, but not with his resident sourpuss mute, Naruto deaf, and the voice of reason blind and reliant on the other two.

When it doesn't seem like Sai's injured, Kakashi turns his attention back to the summon.

"So, what now?"

"The Hime wished to convey her congratulations for becoming a jounin sensei. And express disappointment that it seems like it'll be a while yet before she'll get to run any missions with your team again, what with your new role."

"She's staying in ANBU?" Kakashi queries, because he knows Genma's gone back to part-time once Kakashi passed his team, and Yugao will likely go back to full-time seduction and assassination what with 2/4 of Team Ro no longer in ANBU.

Yū seems to smile wryly, tail flicking absently. "The Hime doesn't exist outside of the shadows, Hatake-san."

And isn't that a morbid thought.

Upon returning to the Village, Sakura gives her fabricated report, tone the practiced ANBU-blandness, and passes the Hokage the scroll with Nezumi's body, then the one with their - dead - informant. She can't gleam anything from the man's gaze, even when it falls to her broken arm, so when he takes the scrolls with the appropriate gravitas and dismisses her, she heads out.

She carefully changes out of her ANBU uniform, showers, eats a proper meal, and wraps Sai in a one-armed hug and doesn't let go for a solid ten minutes. She sits with Sai and Shin on the sofa, grilling the raven about his first few days with Team 7, about his impression of Kakashi and his teammates, and buries any resentment she still feels about her own experiences on that team. She laughs when Sai recounts their introductions, how woefully unprepared Kakashi seems for dealing with teenagers, and the fact that Sai's taken to trolling the Copy-nin with his facade of 'innocently helpful genin’ makes Sakura laugh until she cries.

The next morning, she packs Sai lunch for his meeting with his genin team, then sets out to hunt down Genma and Yugao.

The news that they won't stay a team without Kakashi...hurts, but she's had the whole journey back to Konoha to prepare herself for the eventuality.

And she'd been so looking forward to having that team-as-family dynamic she'd been promised in the Academy at least once in her life! Lives, whatever.

Over the course of the dinner, Sakura repeatedly assures them that she’s fine, the arm looks worse than it is, and that the best strategy for moving forward really is ‘sit and wait’.

"So, what will you do?" Yugao asks, once they've polished off all the barbecue at Yakiniku, and have fallen into casual small-talk.

Sakura blinks.

"I'm...staying in ANBU?" She offers blankly, not really understanding the question. "You do realise that I'm not on the official mission roster, right? Outside of ANBU, I'm a civilian."

Genma's eyebrows soar, but Yugao looks worried.

"Is it really...safe?" she asks, and Sakura feels something warm settle in her chest at the genuine concern in the woman's voice.

She shrugs. "As safe as anywhere else, really. But it'd be difficult to explain where I came from if the Hokage suddenly gave me a rank, and I don't think anyone with half a brain would send me to the Academy, so..."

"Even though you could be with your brother?" Yugao asks, and her question makes Genma's eyes narrow.

"Wait. Iruka said that Shin couldn't immediately go after you because he had his brother's graduation to get to." the tokujo says slowly, as if piecing the thought together as he speaks. "But at the dinner in your house, you said your brother will be graduating next year."

Sakura smiles wryly. "We lied." she agrees simply.

"That's...really paranoid, kid." Genma tells her flatly, but he seems amused, and neither he nor Yugao seem to be too miffed by the fact that she'd lied, again, which loosens a weight in her chest she didn’t even know was there.

So Sakura takes a deep breath, wonders how long Shin's going to lecture her about this, then takes a calculated risk.

"You wanna know the funniest thing?" She asks idly, and when Genma hums and Yugao nods curiously, Sakura grins, sharp and brimming with schadenfreude.

"He ended up on Kakashi's genin team, and Kakashi has no idea who he is."

There's a moment of disbelieving silence, and then Genma's pokerface cracks as he snorts, and from there, all three of them devolve into hysterical laughter, and if Sakura lets a few tears slip out when she realises that this dynamic has been snatched from her hands before she's been able to fully appreciate it, nobody has to know.

It's a good day, everything considered.

The next morning, Sakura makes Sai a bento, and when he picks it up from her with a smile and a half-hug, she nearly cries at the fact that he initiates the physical contact. Once Sai heads out, throwing over his shoulder that he’ll likely be back late afternoon, since Kakashi’s taken to assigning them two missions a day, then ending on team training, Sakura considers the food she’d taken out then after a moment’s consideration, makes two more bentos.

“Hey, Shin?” She calls into the other bedroom, where Shin had retreated a few minutes earlier to read. “Wanna spar?”

Instead of a verbal response, Shin pokes his head out of the door, pinning her with an unreadable look. It’s only now that Sakura realises that she hasn’t properly sparred with Shin since before they’d brought down ROOT. It’s been years, so perhaps the scrutiny he’s eyeing her with isn’t completely undeserved.

He studies her for a few seconds, gaze flickering from her arm to her face and stance, and Sakura keeps her posture carefully loose and relaxed until he finally nods.

“Sure.” He agrees, and a quiet thump signifying something small and hard impacting a soft surface clues her into the fact that he likely threw his book back on the bed. “Where did you have in mind?”

Sakura grins.

She drags Shin to the ROOT training grounds. They’re abandoned, and the little vegetation that had been able to survive in the no-sunlight environment has overgrown and taken over most of the room. The lights are barely on, flickering or dimmed, the lightbulbs all but burnt out, but it’s the safest place Sakura can think of for getting most of her and Shin’s arsenal out.

“Rules?” Shin murmurs after they finish stretching, as they eye each other from the middle of the fields.

“Mind the arm. Beyond that, until forfeit or incapacitation?”

Shin hums his assent, and then they’re moving.  

Sakura wins the first two rounds despite her arm: Shin is moving cautiously, slower than he had been in ROOT, as if testing the limits of his body, still unconsciously bracing for pain from his lungs.

Once he realises that the pain isn’t coming, he wins the third round by using a wind jutsu so powerful that it pins Sakura to the wall so thoroughly that she can’t move a single limb, and by the time the jutsu ends, she’s so bruised and shocked that she doesn’t even think about using a shunshin. Just brings a green-glowing hand to her bruised ribs and aching arm and shoots an exhilarated grin at Shin from where she’s crumbled to her knees by the wall.

“2-1.” She says simply, then blurs, and the fourth round is a more even match. She claws a win, just barely; she doesn’t want to use her summons just yet, she doesn’t want to accidentally kill Shin with Mokuton, and the fact that they’re underground makes using her super strength an idiotic move.

Shin wins the fifth round.

Sakura decides to hell with it, and brings out her sneakiest, stealthiest summon for the sixth one, and her and little Chie-chan tag-team Shin in the near-dark of the training grounds, but her brother’s intellect means that her advantage in numbers doesn’t faze him.

He wins the sixth round, too.

What feels like hours later but is likely no more than thirty minutes, they’re panting, staring at each other over the ruined training grounds, Sakura having been forced to pull out her chakra-enhanced strength or risk decapitation by wind-edged katana a few rounds back.

She flicks through the fights and realises they’re at an impasse of 5-5, but considering he’s spent the last few years dying or chained to a hospital bed, the fact that he’s keeping pace with her is terrifying.

 She says as much, and Shin snorts from where he’s sprawled on a slab of rock, panting harshly.

“You’ve never known me as a shinobi with functioning lungs, Sakura.” He informs dryly. “Turns out, it’s kinda important for high-intensity exercise and, y’know, Wind jutsu.”

Sakura lobs a pebble at him, and it hits his thigh harmlessly.

“Idiot.” She huffs. “I know that. But you could probably take the Jounin spar now if you found someone to recommend you.”

“Civilian to jounin and you don’t think that would raise some eyebrows?” he asks rhetorically, and when Sakura shrugs but doesn’t answer, they fall back into a comfortable silence.

“You’re too reliant on chakra when you fight.” Shin mutters after a while, and Sakura can hear the frown in his voice. “You’ve gotten used to healing yourself mid-fight instead of avoiding injury altogether. It’s true that you have very generous reserves for someone of your age and gender, but you won’t always be fully rested when you fight. Your summons, or even most ninjutsu you use, are very chakra-intensive. You’re channelling and expelling chakra even during taijutsu, and your style is brawler-like at best, and looks like you think your body’s bigger than it is.”

Sakura freezes, but Shin’s not done.

“You use your Mokuton almost as an afterthought; it doesn’t appear to come naturally to you, even though it’s arguably the most economical technique in your arsenal, chakra-wise. Your marksmanship has gotten worse and the way you hold your tanto would give a kenjutsu specialist a heart-attack.”

“What is this, a performance review?” Sakura snaps, trying to mask her panic with irritation.

Shin just sighs.

“You’re being sabotaged, Sakura. Blatantly so. I’m rather invested in your continued survival, so I’m letting you know what you need to work on to ensure it.” He pauses, and Sakura knows he’s scowling. “I thought ANBU would’ve improved some of your bad habits, not made them worse.”

“…Alright. Lay it on me.” She allows after a beat, getting ready to take mental notes.

“You’re fast, with frankly insane control over your chakra, and you’ve whittled down the Academy Three to mostly or entirely seal-less. That’s good. Certainly useful in the style you seem to favour, which is ‘attack before they realise what’s happening’ or ‘attack in a way they won’t expect and capitalise on their surprise’.” He sighs, and pushes himself into a sitting position, and Sakura rolls over to be able to meet his eyes.

“But, Sakura, your shunshin or flashy opening moves won’t work on any sensor or shinobi with half-decent reflexes, and you won’t always have the element of surprise on your side. In a few years, the shock at your height or age will wear off. What will you do then?”

“Okay. So, in layman’s terms and achievable, trackable goals, Shin-sensei?” she asks after a pause, and Shin snorts at the title.

“Make your Mokuton into your first resort, rather than the last. Give some thought to the amount of chakra you sacrifice for your preliminary attacks, remember that Summoning contracts are rare and coveted for a reason, and for god’s sake improve your marksmanship.”

Sakura can’t help herself; she grins.

The next morning, Sakura decides that she’s been putting the inevitable off for long enough; it’s time to talk to Kakashi.

Finding herself in the treeline of training ground 7 makes her smile a little bittersweet, but she patiently waits until Sai, Naruto and Sasuke get started on whatever drill Kakashi has them run before she heads on over to her captain-and-ex-sensei.

And oh is seeing young Naruto and Sasuke again a mindfuck and a half, but she pushes the thought out of her mind, stifles her chakra, and sidles up next to Kakashi.

“Hey, taicho.” She greets quietly, stopping about three feet from Kakashi, though still on the same branch her captain had claimed for himself.

“Not your superior officer anymore, kouhai.” Kakashi replies calmly, and Sakura kindly doesn’t acknowledge the way he turns his head to look her over, gaze pausing rather obviously on her broken arm.

“You’ll always be my taicho, taicho.” She tells him honestly, not leaving any room for argument. “Mine, and Yugao’s, and Genma’s. As soon as your babysitting assignment is done, we’re fully expecting you to come back to our team.”

Kakashi snorts at her description of his jounin-sensei activities.

“You’re the same age as my babysitting charges. By that logic, I’m babysitting Team Ro too.” He points out, and Sakura doesn’t hesitate, shooting back in the same sassy tone;

“No, taicho. Team Ro babysits you.”

Kakashi indignant squawk makes her laugh quietly.

“I’m a responsible and respectable adult, I’ll have you know.”

“Responsible and respectable adults don’t read porn in public.”

“You’re, like, twelve.” Kakashi huffs, the very picture of maturity. “Your idea of fun is probably playing in the sandbox.”

“I’m twelve not two, taicho.”

“Semantics.”

They lapse into silence for a beat, watching interestedly as Sasuke and Sai tag-teamed on Naruto’s Shadow Clones, working together to get through the throng and incapacitate the real Naruto.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come after you.” Kakashi offers after a beat, startling her. “Your brother, he…”

“-told me what he told you, and he was right, taicho.” Sakura finishes for him, getting a startled look right back. “You’ve already got too many eyes on you, and you’ll be under even more scrutiny due to this assignment. Shin and I have it handled.”

“You’re really alright?” Kakashi asks, and the genuine concern in his voice makes Sakura pause.

That’s not their usual dynamic.

She sighs, and eventually settles for the truth.

“The arm will be healed in two more days, tops. I’m a bit bummed that our team is in pieces, though I’m aware I was the cause for the last few weeks of tension, and I’m sorry for that. I meant what I wrote in your note, you know. Beyond that…I’m scared, Kakashi, but there’s not really much I can do about that.”

“You can talk to me. You know that, right?” Kakashi asks, determinedly not looking at her, and Sakura feels painfully fond for a moment.

“I know.” Then, because she can’t resist, and she can’t remember doing it the first time, she asks; “Can I hug you?”

Kakashi stills, but doesn’t otherwise react beyond turning his head a little towards her, so she steps closer, gauging his reaction.

When he doesn’t disappear or kawarimi with the nearest branch, she carefully grabs his hand and tugs until he’s fully turned towards her, then steps even closer and slowly, telegraphing her movements the whole way, puts her arm around his waist, turning her head so her cheek is to his chest.

Kakashi stands frozen for a few seconds, then jerkily reaches up and pats her on the head, once, twice, then lets the hand settle on top of her head, before very slowly beginning to relax.

“I’m going to need your help with this teaching thing, kouhai.” Kakashi sighs after a few seconds, sounding almost as if the words come tumbling out against his will. “They’re so fragile. What if I kill them?”

And that- there’s more honesty in those three sentences than she’s heard from the man in the six years she’d known him in her previous life.

“You won’t.” she swears, vehement, because if there’s one thing she’s never doubted, it was the fact that for Kakashi, their team’s was always paramount. It didn’t matter whether it was Team 7 the first time around, their ANBU team, or this new incarnation with her brother in it from the start: Kakashi had been the one who’d introduced the expression ‘leave no comrade behind’ to her the first time, and she’s sure this version of the man lives by the same dogma.

“You’re physically incapable of leaving a comrade behind. You’re the best jounin this Village has seen in a decade, you’d sooner start another war than let anything happen to those under your leadership and protection.” She rattles off, still determinedly hugging the man, and she feels him tense at her words.

She pulls back far enough to be able to look at his face and finds him already staring down at her, his one visible eye wide with something like surprise and…gratitude?

“But,” she adds, thinking of what she’d missed out on in her first time knowing the man, and she smiles wryly, “you’ll have to give a bit of yourself to them, too. From what I understand, the Uzumaki and Uchiha are both orphans. The third one seems to be keeping them together, but you can’t expect him to do that forever.”

Because that had been her role, the first time around. The ‘glue’ that was supposedly meant to hold her team together, until Sasuke’s ambition and Naruto’s desperate need to keep whatever family he had won for himself had become too much for her to deal with.

“I don’t have the first idea on how to make a team.” Kakashi confesses, the hand that had been on her head slipping down to rest on her shoulder.

“Sure you do.” Sakura chirps back, willing to beat the fact into Kakashi’s head if she has to. “You made our team gel and work together, even without knowing all my shit.”

“Our team was ANBU, kouhai.” Kakashi points out dryly, and Sakura shrugs.

“So? If you drill your new genin like they’re ANBU, at least you’ll have a guarantee that they will be very difficult to kill, hm?”

Kakashi stares at her for a beat, then, to her surprise, throws his head back and barks out a laugh.

“Kami help whatever poor souls end up saddled with you as their teacher.” He muses, squeezing her shoulder, and Sakura releases him from the hug at the wordless request.

Still, Kakashi seems lighter than he’d been when she’d first sidled up to him, a tension she hadn’t noticed gone from the lines of his shoulders and back.

“Your faith in me is touching, taicho.” She teases.

“Get gone.” Kakashi grumbles back, as if their earlier heart-to-heart had never happened. “I’ll come find you for a spar in a few days.”

“Aw, you can’t live without me!” she coos, unable to help himself, and Kakashi narrows his eye.

“Scram.” He huffs, throwing a senbon for good measure, but Sakura’s already gone.

She can’t wipe her smile for the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

Two days after deeming her arm fully healed and five days after her talk with Kakashi, Sakura meets her new ANBU team.

Bear-sama catches her when she steps into HQ, on the lookout for the bulletin board with the lists of solo mission available to ANBU agents.

“Mongoose.” He calls, and Sakura startles slightly, not having interacted with the man since her recruitment. “A word?”

He turns, and Sakura follows silently, surprised when he leads her to the door of one of the more remote training grounds within HQ.

“Now that Hound is out, and Gecko is temporarily retired, you and Fox can’t stay a unit. She’s too valuable in Seduction, and your file presents you as a successful infiltrator.” He tells her flatly, having stopped right before the door, not yet going in but clearly intending to.

Sakura tilts her head at the man, because that’s not exactly news. She’s been planning to just snag solo missions wherever she could or volunteer for rotation as a medic, but Bear’s words seem to imply that her plans are being thwarted.

“Sir?” she asks when he hesitates, and he tilts his mask to look at her, seeming, for whatever reason, reluctant.

“You’re being reassigned.” He announces, and though his tone is bland through the mask, she thinks that he isn’t pleased by the fact.

“But- my team?” Sakura can’t help but ask, hating the thought of a permanent end to Team Ro. “When Hound-taicho’s done with his babysitting assignment, he’s coming back!” she knows she should probably be more respectful, but Kakashi said he’s coming back.

Bear snorts at her description of jounin-sensei duties, but his voice when he speaks is curt. Final. The earlier reluctance carefully masked.

“Don’t worry. Team 4 isn’t known for long assignments.” He tells her cryptically, then pushes the door open. “Wolf! I brought your newest teammate!”

Three people are already inside the room when Bear pushes her in, and Sakura almost stumbles, turning to shoot him a glare, though his attention is on her new teammates, so he misses it.

When she turns to her apparent new team, the agent with the canine mask – Wolf, Bear had said – has his mask turned to her, and she bites back a groan. Apparently, her new captain hadn’t missed her show of annoyance with the Commander. Lovely.

“A kid?” one of the other agents asks, and Sakura has no clue how to even begin deciphering his mask. “I thought we stopped this shit after Weasel.”

“Is this Hound’s kid?” her final teammate checks, voice clearly feminine, and something in Sakura relaxes. 

“Agent Mongoose will be running missions with you for the foreseeable future.” Bear announces, completely ignoring the other two.

“Bat, Crow – stick around long enough to at least show her the ropes, will you?” he adds, his words pointed and clearly directed at the other two operatives, though Sakura has no idea why.

She’s more concerned by the fact that her new captain still hasn’t spoken. The unease that she’s been dumped with another ROOT operative sharpens her attention to the point that she’s hardly breathing, watching for her captain’s next move.

Then, to the grudging ‘yes, Commander’ of her new teammates, Bear turns on his heel and leaves.

“…Pleased to meet you.” Sakura greets into the silence that falls, and that finally seems to earn her a reaction.

“God, how old are you?” Bat demands, seeming almost worried for her, which is…odd, Sakura thinks absently.

“Almost twelve.”

“Shit.” Bat swears sharply, “They gave Hound an Academy student?! Worse yet, they put you here?”

The initial concern had been almost touching, but now Sakura’s frowning behind her mask. She really isn’t liking Bat’s tone, nor the stress he put on Kakashi’s mask name. As if he shouldn’t have been trusted with her safety, or something equally ridiculous. There’s also something concerning in the subtle glance Bat sends at Wolf-taicho’s back when he says ‘here’, and Sakura has a feeling this team is going to be a lot different to her experience with Team Ro.

“That’s enough.” Wolf finally speaks, and Bat tenses, though Sakura doesn’t really understand why.

Yeah, the words were flat and said almost without inflection, but a) mask, b) ANBU, c) rather unfavourable implications thrown around by subordinates. He isn’t even using killing intent, for kami’s sake!

“Mongoose,” Wolf says, getting her attention immediately, and she almost sags with relief at the realisation that he’s not a ROOT operative, “specialisation?”

Sakura blinks, tilting her head as she thinks of her answer.

“Assassination and infiltration.” She replies, echoing Bear’s words. She hadn’t realised just how many successful infiltration missions she’s ran with Team Ro, so the fact that there were enough for her file to peg her as an infiltrator threw her slightly.

“And in combat?” Wolf presses, almost idly, and Sakura lets herself think back to Shin’s words.

“Speed.” She offers, because it’s true. She’s ridiculously fast in this life, especially compared to before, and it’s another one of those things that have been years in the making so she hadn’t even realised she could be considered fast until it was pointed out.

“Ninjutsu. Mid to long-range support.” She debates mentioning medical-ninjutsu, but thinks better of it. She has no idea what Kakashi had written in his report of their final mission, whether ANBU at large even knows of her having healed Yugao. Better not risk it.

“My marksmanship’s shit though, and my taijutsu needs some polishing.” She adds, because hiding her summons and Mokuton and med-nin skills is one thing, but hiding her newly-discovered glaring weaknesses could get them killed, and she doesn’t really want that on her conscience.

Wolf nods in acknowledgement of her words.

“Warm up, then spar.” He instructs curtly, and Sakura gratefully takes the opportunity to run around the field and stretch a bit. She’s going in blind in regards to her new team’s abilities, and she’d rather not get killed or permanently injured in their first training session.

After about ten minutes, Wolf calls her to the middle of the grounds, and Bat ambles over, stopping about fifteen feet away from her, making it clear he’s her first opponent.

“Terms?” she checks, and her teammate shrugs.

“Don’t kill me. But try not to lose either, ‘cause loser becomes target practice for the others.” He explains, clearly not expecting Wolf-taicho to bother, and Sakura files that away to be dissected later.

And then, at some unseen signal, there’s suddenly a fireball heading straight for her, and it’s instinct to shunshin sideways, out of the way of the blast. It’s instinct as well to flick three kunai at Bat, one at his feet, one at his centre of balance, and one she’d aimed at his head but it sails harmlessly by his ear, and she winces. Fucking Shin and his all-seeing eyes, how had she not realised before how shit her aim has gotten?

Still, not one to waste the sudden opportunity, she uses a seal-less kawarimi to switch with the knife that sailed wide, and then she’s in Bat’s blind-spot, swooping low, ducking under his reactionary elbow strike, and just as she’s about to summon a chakra scalpel, Shin’s words about relying too much on chakra ring through her head.

She bites back a curse and reaches for one of her senbon instead, this one tipped with lidocaine, a gift from Genma, and steps just out of the range of the sweep of Bat’s tanto, having lost the advantage of surprise. Then, she pitches forward, low and a little reckless, and stabs the senbon into the back of Bat’s knee, leaving it there, and switches with her kunai again when the floor under her feet suddenly erupts with earth spikes.

She eyes Bat, who’s still standing, and realises she’ll need to get his blood pumping faster if she wants the local anaesthetic her needle was dipped in to have an effect. Grumbling, she twirls out of the way of the shuriken Bat sends at her, then feels a stab of vindictive satisfaction when she sends his technique right back at her teammate.

She hears a quiet ‘crap’ before Bat jumps out of the way of her fireball, straight into the path of the three kunai she launches at the spot he leaps to, and he has no choice but to flicker away again. The training ground between them splits as a meter-thick canyon stretches between her and Bat, a distraction, and Sakura shunshins out of the way before she loses her footing, panting slightly at the fast pace of the fight.

She’s about three metres from Bat and takes the opportunity to spit a small water bullet at him, and her teammate swears again and rolls out of the path of her jutsu.

But, when he lands the third time, his leg buckles and he lands hard on his knee, the anaesthetic finally kicking in. Despite the mask, his confusion is palpable, and Sakura doesn’t waste time; she flicks another two kunai, both wide of Bat’s head, though the threat is clear. She kawarimis with one blade, grabbing the second one out of mid-air as she orients herself, then twists so she lands behind Bat, grabs his hair through the hood covering it in one hand, wrenches his head back, and with her other hand she presses her kunai to his throat.

“Yield.” Bat calls, and though the mask modulates his voice, it doesn’t hide the fact he’s also panting, and Sakura releases her hold on his hair and pockets her knife, stepping away.

For all that their fight terraformed the training grounds, it was so fast-paced that it barely lasted a minute, and Sakura feels the slight incredulity that radiates from Crow, though Wolf-taicho is unreadable, his posture and chakra revealing nothing.

“It’s just a local anaesthetic.” She murmurs to Bat, offering a hand to help him up, then enforcing the arm she wraps around his waist with chakra when he tries to put weight on his numb leg. “It should wear off in a few minutes.”

Bat grumbles something unintelligible but nods semi-gratefully when she deposits him on the edges of the training grounds and bends to pull out the senbon still lodged in the back of his knee. She thinks she hears an ill-tempered ‘fuckin’ Gecko’ before she turns to Wolf, eyeing him and Crow expectantly.

“What next, taicho?” she asks, when no other task appears forthcoming, and she thinks detects a flicker of amusement in the man’s chakra before he tamps down on it and speaks.

“Taijutsu.” He says simply, as if unbothered by her incapacitation of Bat. “Crow.”

Her presumed-kunoichi teammate steps into the same spot Bat had started out in, and Sakura picks up her pace as she makes her way back to the makeshift sparring ring.

Then, Crow falls into a vaguely familiar taijutsu stance, and Sakura pales beneath her mask.

Crow is a Hyuuga.

Goddamn.

There goes Sakura’s plan to not use chakra in her taijutsu.

She wonders what Shin would advise.

And then, a slow smile spreads across her face when she realises that, despite his ambition and generally easy-going nature, Shin has a mean-streak a mile wide.

And a fondness for mind-games.

Taking a deep breath, she studies Crow's stance for a beat more, then mirrors it. She sees the moment Crow stills for a split-second, then all traces of surprise are wiped from her posture and chakra, and she rushes Sakura in that same graceful way she recalls Neji using back during their first fateful Chunin Exams.

When Crow draws closer, Sakura calls up the chakra scalpel to the tips of her index and pointer fingers and does her best at dodging her teammate’s Gentle Fist while also trying to replicate the fluid movements with her own body.

The feeling of her tenketsu being blocked is far from pleasant, but Sakura knows that the Jūken isn’t a quick fighting style, relying more on endurance and accuracy than brute force.

That suits her just fine, and her and Crow fall into a rhythm, almost dance-like.

Sakura loses track of time, though she absently feels her control grow sloppier as more and more of her tenketsu get blocked, though Crow also can’t move her right leg too much, as Sakura had numbed the nerves in her thigh, and her left arm is hanging limp by her side.

If she manages to do the same to her right arm, she’ll win, Sakura muses, waits for an opening, and leaps-

-and her stomach makes contact with the knee Crow brings up, the move so unexpected of a Hyuuga that Sakura is completely blindsided by it, and she crumples to the ground, retching.

She doesn’t actually vomit up her breakfast, but it’s a near thing, and she spends a few seconds more on her knees, getting her breath back, then pushes to her feet.

“Preferring one style doesn’t mean I’m incapable of others.” Crow informs her flatly, though not unkindly, holding out her hand in a clear offer to unblock Sakura’s tenketsu.

Sakura offers her arms gratefully, then nods at Crow's words, wincing behind her mask.  

“My mistake.” She admits easily, twitching her fingers in the Seal of Reconciliation once the other kunoichi is done. She turns warily to Wolf-taicho, wondering whether her clear mis-step will have any consequences.

But her new captain just tilts his head. “Meet here at 0800 tomorrow and we’ll go through formations and styles.” He says simply, and Sakura blinks, thrown.

“Am I not sparring with you?” she asks, more than a little confused, because sure, her spar with Crow may have lasted longer than with Bat, but it’s still been less than half an hour since she’d first walked into the room.

And she knows nothing about her captain.

Wolf studies her carefully in the wake of her words, and, over his shoulder, she can see Bat shaking his head rapidly, as if to discourage her from pressing the matter.

“I did not build my style with the thought of friendly sparring in mind.” Wolf tells her at length, his voice the coldest it has been so far, and something in his words doesn’t add up.

They’re all trained killers. A single slip-up could kill, but that’s what separates jounin from genin: control. Hell, her and Crow could have killed each other ten times over if they’d been any less careful in the placement of their strikes!

To Sakura, the explanation sounds more like an excuse, and she doesn’t understand.

“Respectfully, sir,” she begins before she can think better of it, ignoring Bat and frowning at Wolf, “neither did Hound-taicho.”

At her side, Crow makes a sound that could’ve been a sigh, and Bat makes a move as if he wants to facepalm, before remembering his mask is in the way, but most of Sakura’s attention is on her captain.

He’s studying her right back, posture and chakra as blank as Shin’s, but Sakura has neither the familiarity she has with her brother nor a view of his face to so much as try to pull apart what he’s actually thinking.

“As you wish.” Wolf allows after a beat, stepping closer to take Crow's place, and Sakura tenses, but he just waits.

When a few seconds pass, Sakura carefully lobs two kunai at her captain, wondering if they can start. When he absently deflects the one that would’ve dug into his thigh and likely ruptured the femoral artery with the back of his arm-guard, Sakura decides that they’re on.

She blurs.

Wolf ducks her flying kick at his head, then leaps lightly over her sweeping low kick as she lands, stepping back just out of reach as she pushes into a handstand and sends her heel at his chin. Getting back to her feet, Sakura puts some distance between them, studying her captain. He’d barely moved and hadn’t retaliated, but she hadn’t made contact once, and she’d been moving faster than she had with Crow.

Alright, then.

She flies through the seals for Katon: Hōsenka, needing to get Wolf to move, because she needs an idea of who she’s fighting.

So far, all she knows is that he’s fast and, going by his odd warning, rather deadly.

The initial fireball that she creates doesn’t seem to phase her taicho, as he merely shunshins to the side and out of the way, and Sakura smiles beneath her mask, grateful that she’s gone for this jutsu and not the actual Great Fireball technique. In the next breath, her fireball splits, becoming smaller fire bullets, and Sakura’s control over her chakra means that she can adjust their paths so they head unerringly for Wolf’s new location.

She'll never be a true Fire user, and she hasn’t yet mastered the trick of hiding shuriken in the fire, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t send them after. When she gets an idea for the direction Wolf is dodging to, she sends a volley of shuriken at the man and-

-all of her weapons miss.

Sakura stares, her shock making her control over her fire jutsu waver, until it drops. She barely manages to dodge the answering barrage of senbon, thrown seemingly out of nowhere, each needle glowing blue at the tip, and when she twists out of the way she sees the senbon pierce through the nearby rock and bury itself half-way in the stone.

She throws another few kunai, to the same result.

In a fit of frustrated piqué, because her aim may have been less accurate than she’d realised, but it wasn’t bad, and it definitely wasn’t this bad, she slaps her hand to the ground, barely remembering to strike with an open palm instead of a fist in order to maintain the façade of her Tsunade-taught technique being a normal Earth jutsu.

She feels a vindictive sense of satisfaction when the earth between them erupts, not quite the craters and devastation she’d once been capable of, but enough to upset Wolf’s footing and make him put some real effort into clearing the suddenly unstable terrain.

It’s only when she expels the chakra from her hand and reinforces her arm to avoid damage that Sakura realises there’s something not-hers wrapped around her core.

Genjutsu.

And she didn’t even notice him cast it.

“Kai!” she calls, and immediately, her vision rights, and she realises that, although dusty, Wolf is a good three metres to the left of where she thought he’d been.

But something is still wrong, now that she’s looking for it, and she flares her chakra again, breaking the second layer.

She repeats the process three more times, growing progressively more uneasy, because she has no idea what’s real anymore, nor any clue as to how many layers Wolf had even managed to bury her under before she’d noticed.

When she stumbles into the seventh layer, she freezes. Because now, instead of perception-altering, she’s landed in an evocative genjutsu.

Of her worst fear, it looks like.

Sai, Shin, Shisui, Kakashi, Genma, Yugao, off to the side even Naruto and Sasuke lay around the field, like one of the battlefields she lived through during the War before, and they’re all bleeding profusely, missing limbs, some with gaping, round, mortal wounds in their torsos that Sakura knows instinctively come from her untamed, untrained Mokuton.

You can’t save all of them. What sounds like Tsunade’s voice rings through her head, sharp and uncompromising and cruelly mocking, a tone she hasn’t heard since she was thirteen and struggling with her own inadequacy, though distantly, she knows Tsunade never said those words to her. Would never say them like that. You’re not good enough. Not strong enough. So, who do you choose to save? Who lives? Who do you let die? Choose, Sakura-hime.

Sakura stares at the carnage around her, flooded by guilt for a situation that hasn’t happened yet, and it takes her a long moment of staring at Sai’s paler than usual face, at the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, at the hand he’s using to carefully cradle the gaping wound in his stomach, before she remembers this isn’t real.

She brings trembling fingers to her chest and concentrates on her chakra.

“K-kai.” She chokes out, and, as her chakra flares, the illusion shatters, replaced instead with the bright lights of the ANBU training grounds, the damaged floor, and Wolf’s mask, closer than she remembers it being, tilted towards her, no doubt studying her reaction.

She’s on her knees, a position she doesn’t remember falling into, and she glances up, breathing heavily, eyeing her captain warily. She can’t feel anything not-hers in her chakra anymore, but she’s beyond the point of being able to evaluate anything objectively, feeling raw and fragile.

“How- how many more layers?” she asks disjointedly, not recognising her voice when she speaks, and not just because of the mask.

“That was the last one.” Wolf assures her, and if she’s not mistaken, he sounds concerned, but.

But.

Sakura concentrates, for it’s a fair bit more challenging without the seal, but her arms are shaking enough as it is trying to keep her face from impacting the ground that she doesn’t think she’d be able to manage the hand-seal right now, and flares her chakra, not dropping her gaze from Wolf’s mask.

Nothing happens, and she lets out a shuddering breath.

“Are you alright?” Wolf checks, and Sakura barely resists the urge to snarl at him.

Barely, but she manages.

Instead of deigning that with a response, she pushes carefully to her feet, stumbling only slightly when she’s vertical again, then she straightens and faces her captain.

“0800 tomorrow, yes?” she asks, heading towards the door, Bat and Crow seemingly knowing better than to try and stop her. Instead, they seem almost sympathetic, and Bat even opens the door for her, though Sakura pauses to let Crow leave first, the other kunoichi being slightly closer to the door than she is.

“Mongoose,” Wolf calls, still in the same place he’d stood when she broke the final layer, and Sakura waves at Bat absently, showing him to go on ahead, which he does, though not without one final look at their captain.

Sakura turns, tilting her head, feeling too tired to react verbally.

“…You did ask.” Her captain offers, almost apologetically, though his tone doesn’t change.

Racking her brain for what he’s referring to, Sakura snorts before she can stop herself.

“Yeah.” She agrees blandly, nodding in agreement. “I did. It’s just been almost five years since I last sparred against a genjutsu user; I wasn’t expecting it.” She offers with a shrug, wondering whether Wolf will pick up on the significance of the date. By the way his attention on her seems to sharpen, she guesses that he does. “I’ve also gained a few more nightmares since then.”

“Will you be alright?” Wolf repeats after a beat, when it becomes clear she’s not going to say anything more, and this time there’s something odd in his tone, a weird inflection she doesn’t really understand, unless-

She thinks of Bear’s comment about her team not being known for ‘long assignments’, thinks of Bat and Crow's obvious distance to their captain, thinks of the fact that none of them took off their masks even for a training session within-Village, while Team Ro only ever donned their masks in the corridors of HQ and on missions. She thinks of Wolf’s obvious hesitance to fight her, of the initially arrogant-sounding warning he’d given, and she thinks.

“Taicho,” she begins carefully, studying the man’s posture, since his face and chakra are hidden, but her captain seems to be a shinobi the likes of Kakashi, too used to hiding or faking what he’s feeling for her to be able to get anything meaningful out of it.

“I’m not blaming you.” she says slowly, wondering whether she’s about to get punted through a wall.

Judging by the way Wolf stills, it seems she hit the nail on the head.

“Sure, I wasn’t exactly ecstatic at being shown my worst nightmare in technicolour, but like you said, I did ask for the spar, and I ignored your warning against it.” She pauses, frowning thoughtfully.

“If anything, I’m annoyed at how long it took me to realise that you had caught me in an illusion, not at the fact that you had.” She admits honestly, because that is one of the things that’s bugging her far more than the actual vision.

“You did get through the layers fairly quickly, once you realised there was an illusion.” He points out, sounding distantly impressed, and Sakura allows the unsubtle change of subject without comment. “And I am rather good at what I do.”

“Be that as it may,” she dismisses, then, realising that the man probably wouldn’t take well to a comment the likes of ‘no hard feelings’, she adds, “I’d still like your help in learning how to recognise genjutsu sooner, if you’re willing.”

Wolf’s iron-grip on his chakra breaks for a second, and Sakura feels his stab of surprise at her words, though it’s carefully masked within the next second.

“0800 tomorrow, Mongoose.” Wolf brushes her off, neither accepting nor denying her request, though he sounds…lighter. Almost amused, if she had to guess.

“I’ll be here, taicho.” She assures the man, then dips her head in a shallow bow and leaves the training grounds.

She feels like she’ll need a long hug from Sai to get any sleep tonight.

Luckily, Sai is more than willing to indulge her need for hugs when she gets back to their apartment.

“How was your day?” she asks once she finally pushes herself into a reasonably sat-up position, instead of laying as she has been with her head on Sai’s shoulder and her body slumped against his side.

“D-Ranks then team training.” Sai murmurs, rolling up his scroll once he realises she’s up for talking. “Sensei has gotten oddly fond of making us do survival exercises.”

Sakura snorts, though it warms her inside when she realises that Kakashi appears to have taken her advice to heart. “Anything interesting happen?”

“I used one of Shisui’s Fire techniques and Sasuke got a really weird look on his face.” Sai muses, and Sakura hums thoughtfully.

“He might not know it.” She offers, because that’s a very real possibility. “And Fire ninjutsu was the specialisation of the Uchiha Clan.”

“Should I offer to teach it to him?” Sai asks, and Sakura pauses, trying not to tense against Sai’s side.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to her. She had in her mind’s eye Sasuke as she had known him, bitter and proud and viciously cruel.

But this Sasuke hadn’t been tortured for seventy-two hours by his brother. She’d made sure of that. And this Sasuke had a teammate who could match him in skill, for all that Sai kept telling her that he was only using his speed and tanto in training.

This Sasuke is an innocent child.

“You could.” She replies belatedly, after more time than the question justified. “But how will you explain knowing it?”

Sai cocks his head, humming as he considers. “I’ll say that my nii-san taught me.”

Startled, Sakura can’t help but laugh. “You’ve gotten sneaky, Sai-chan. That’s not even a lie.”

Sai smiles, small and sly, then gets to his feet so fast Sakura almost overbalances. Her brother heads to the packs and holsters he’d abandoned by the door upon getting home and bends down to rifle through one of his pouches, coming away with a small scroll.

He sits back down on the sofa next to her and answers her unspoken question by unfurling the scroll no bigger than his hand, revealing a drawing of a hawk.

“Could you channel some chakra into the paper, please?” Sai asks her, and Sakura blinks at the odd request, though wordlessly does as asked after a beat. “Thank you.” Sai says once she’s done, rolling the scroll back up and throwing it lightly so it lands on his pile of pouches and holsters.

“What was that for?” Sakura demands, once it becomes clear Sai isn’t going to explain.

Her brother blinks, as if surprised she has to ask.

“A tracker.” He tells her slowly, the smallest of frowns pulling on his brow as he studies her. “It should be able to find you, or deliver a message, no matter where you are.”

It’s Sakura’s turn to blink.

“And you asked for my chakra…to use it to locate me?” she checks, the pieces coming together. “When did you design it?”

“I started working on it when aniki went to look for you.” Sai admits, not meeting her eyes, the frown on his face deepening, becoming almost…pained. Frustrated. “After your last mission.”

Sakura’s chest warms, and she feels the sting of tears in her eyes. She reaches out, her vision blurred, and gets her arm around Sai’s shoulders, pulling him to her chest and wrapping her other arm around him too, for good measure.

“I love you, Sai-chan.” she whispers against his hair, feeling the teen tense slightly at her words before he melts into the embrace.

He doesn’t say the words back, but she doesn't expect him to. Still, his arms come up around her waist, and he lets himself go boneless, letting Sakura hold him.

They’re still hugging when Shin gets home an indeterminable amount of time later, and the older boy watches them for a moment, a fond smile on his face. He doesn’t join in on the impromptu cuddle session, but when he passes by the sofa, he ruffles both their hair, before he disappears into the bathroom, followed by the sounds of the shower running a few minutes later.

Sakura closes her eyes and breathes in.

She’s content.

The next day, after her meeting with Team 4 – where she determinedly ignored the odd looks Bat and Crow sent her way when she didn’t appear to show the slightest hint of discomfort around their captain – she’s feeling oddly not-tired, so it’s almost a relief when Kakashi suddenly falls into step with her as she’s heading back home from HQ.

She’s got one of Shin’s overlarge sweaters thrown over her sleeveless vest, her mask and body-armour sealed into a storage scroll in her pack, though with her pouches and holsters and knee-high boots instead of sandals, she still looks like a shinobi, instead of the child she’d been the first time she was this age.

That might explain some of the odd looks sent her way as she walks down the street. Or it might be her hair.

Or Kakashi’s presence at her side.

“What’s up, taicho?” she greets, when Kakashi appears content to be her silent shadow. She knows he knows where she’s coming back from, and he looks like he wants to ask something, but seems to think better of it.

“Feel like sparring, kouhai?” he asks lightly instead, trademark orange book in his hand, though Sakura can tell less than half of his attention is actually on the page.

Sakura rolls her shoulders and glances up at the sky, surprised to find it barely past noon.

“Sent the kids home early?” she teases, not overly concerned, though if that is the case then she’ll have to take a detour to the market and hopefully lose Kakashi before heading home.

To her surprise, Kakashi sighs.

“I wish. Hospital.” at her sharp look, he shoots her his bullshit eye-crinkle. “Sasuke tried a too-ambitious taijutsu move without supervision and twisted his ankle. Naruto got annoyed at the process Sai had laid out for getting Hosenka down and tried skipping from point A to point F and burned himself. And Sai has a dislocated shoulder.”

She sends him a curious look at the lack of a story for Sai, and Kakashi hums with clear amusement.

“Just because Sasuke is an idiot, doesn’t mean he wasn’t a successful idiot. Kid’s got a mean axe kick.”

Sakura huffs a laugh despite herself, and inwardly breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’d be down for that spar.” She agrees, then a thought pops into her head. “Would you be willing to let Shin join us? We’re hoping to get him through the Jounin Spar somehow so he’s been trying to get back into shape, and I feel like you both might have some pent-up frustrations to work through.”

Kakashi considers her for a second, then shrugs. “As long as your brother doesn’t try to kill me in a way that sticks, I don’t mind.”

Sakura smacks Kakashi’s arm and changes course back to her apartment, wondering what Shin will have to say about her idea.

Two hours later, she’s sitting on the edge of the training grounds and working on getting her breathing back under control, her muscles aching pleasantly and sweat still dripping slowly down her nape. She’s long since shed Shin’s sweater, clad now simply in her sleeveless ANBU vest and still too hot, and she’s never been more grateful for letting Genma talk her into getting an undercut the last time she complained about her hair starting to grow out; the gentle breeze on the back of her neck is a new and welcome sensation, especially now.

Her and Shin had teamed up against Kakashi for a bit at the start, mostly to let Shin get a feel for the jounin’s fighting style. Then she’d gone a round with Shin one-on-one, then two rounds with Kakashi to give her brother a break, and now, it’s finally her turn for a break, and she watches Shin and Kakashi fight, almost unable to tear her gaze away.

Kakashi is a genius, but he’s lazy about it. Unmotivated to expend more than the absolute minimum of effort, especially when he’s out of ANBU uniform. He prefers to win by frustrating his opponents into making mistakes, often running circles around them with the Academy Three, then defaulting to Chidori or whatever Sharingan-stolen overkill ninjutsu he’s feeling like using.

Shin is a genius too, moreso than Sakura had initially realised, because she hadn’t had a comparison point in ROOT, but it’s obvious now. She’s certain that Shin could easily outwit Shikamaru, even the eighteen-year-old post-war Shikamaru she remembers from before. And because Shin is intelligent, he’s too proud to be ignored or toyed with, so he pushes.

He makes Kakashi take him seriously, and it’s mesmerizing.

Shin fights with his brain more than his brawn; doing so much high level, on-the-spot maths that Sakura’s head aches just looking at it, and she likes maths. He dodges Kakashi’s strikes by the narrowest of margins, aims his shuriken to collide in mid-air and ricochet at just the right angle to knock Kakashi’s kunai off their trajectories, meets and counterbalances Kakashi’s ninjutsu in a way that has Sakura holding her breath.

Kakashi goes for a Fire technique, Shin meets it with a wall of water. Kakashi uses Wind, Temari’s favoured Kamaitachi no Jutsu, a C-Ranked jutsu which, in Kakashi’s hands could be devastating, Shin doesn’t so much as blink before meeting it with Fūton: Daitoppa, also a C-Rank, but Wind is Shin’s element. His technique counteracts Kakashi’s, appearing to feed off the Copy-nin’s jutsu, and Kakashi has to kawarimi to keep his head.

And as Shin throws a barrage of shuriken with unerring accuracy at Kakashi’s new location, and Kakashi moves again, Shin follows with a volley of kunai, which draws Sakura’s attention.

He’s never said it, but Shin hates using kunai; she reckons he finds them far less accurate than the throwing stars, and she has a feeling he appreciates the potential for subtlety offered by shuriken, which kunai simply lack.

So when he throws three kunai, much in the same way she’d thrown them against Bat, and draws his katana, Sakura has a dawning suspicion as to what is going to happen before it does.

And Shin proves her right: as Kakashi jumps over the knife aimed at his feet, deflects the one going for his centre of balance with his own kunai, and plucks the one aimed for his head straight out of the air and throws it right back, Shin’s chakra flexes, and he’s suddenly in the air, less than six feet from Kakashi, katana drawn and already slashing down.  

Kakashi’s visible eye widens and he steps back, clear of the edge of the blade, but Sakura recognises this katana: it’s Shin’s chakra-conductive one. And once he finally learnt how to channel his Wind-natured chakra into the blade to extend its reach, he never stopped.

Kakashi may have dodged the blade, but the edge of chakra-wind rips into his flak jacket at the seam of his right shoulder and tears, Shin’s momentum forcing the blade all the way across Kakashi’s chest and abdomen and to his left hip.

Sakura watches, frozen, as Kakashi’s flak jacket hangs on for a frozen second, then the front of it falls off, joined by the front of his navy undershirt a second later. Sakura catches a glimpse of wire-reinforced mesh underneath and breathes a sigh of relief, for once thanking the stars for Kakashi’s paranoia.

Not that it would’ve been a mortal wound, seeing as she’s almost certain Shin hadn’t extended his blade as much as he would’ve done had Kakashi been an enemy, but it would’ve been…messy.

Kakashi blinks, and that seems to break the trance that’s fallen over the field.

“You owe me a new flak jacket.” He tells Shin flatly, then, inexplicably, calls up a Shadow Clone. He sends it off in the vague direction of the Village, picks up his tattered shirt and the front part of his vest, and meanders over to where Sakura’s sitting.

“Your brother,” he announces once he reaches her, his tone almost cheerful, even as he shrugs off the newly-ruined flak jacket and pulls his jounin shirt over his head, ending up in just the short-sleeved mesh shirt she’d caught a glimpse of before, “is incredibly annoying, kouhai.”

Sakura blinks stupidly up at him for a moment, then laughs, startled.

“Try living with him.” She shoots back, offering Kakashi the sweater she’d been wearing earlier with a grin. “It’ll be tight on you, but it’s Shin’s, so it’s only fair.”

For a second, she thinks he’s going to take it, if only to stretch the fabric beyond repair and ruin the garment, but he eventually sighs and waves her off, choosing to fall into a lazy sprawl next to her.

“You okay?” she checks, a tiny bit worried despite herself, because this was the closest she’s seen to Kakashi having an even match in this life.

(the one time she all-but buried him alive doesn’t count in her mind – she knew him, from both lives at that point. Shin didn’t have that familiarity and he’d almost decapitated the man)

“I didn’t so much as scratch him.” Shin grouses, finally walking up to them, settling heavily on Kakashi's other side and falling into a deep stretch.

“Despite your best efforts otherwise.” Kakashi comments idly, tone bland even if his words are sharp, though Sakura knows he’s not actually holding a grudge.

“It would’ve been insulting to come at you with anything less than deadly force.” Shin deadpans, and that seems to be an answer Kakashi wasn’t expecting, because he stills, then doesn’t reply beyond a thoughtful hum.

“Where did you send the clone to?” Sakura asks after a few seconds of silence, unable to let the mystery go unanswered.

Kakashi shoots her a look, a childish glint of I-know-something-you-don’t in his visible eye, and she huffs, elbowing the infuriating man.

And then, there’s movement by the treeline, and a distantly familiar brunet walks onto the training grounds, flat black eyes underlined by dark shadows zeroing in on Kakashi almost immediately, though they widen slightly at the state of the man.

“Kakashi.” The unknown shinobi greets, voice quiet and hoarse, the reason for which becomes clear as he launches into a short but vicious coughing fit which makes Shin’s attention snap to the man. “Something you need?”

And Kakashi stretches, eye crinkling in a smile, though it’s a touch more genuine than his usual ones.

“A favour.” He replies, then lifts a hand and points idly at Shin. “I found you another protégé.”

Hayate takes in the scene, not reacting outwardly to Kakashi’s words despite how much they feel like a punch to the gut. He eyes the way the two teenagers next to Kakashi tense, the pink-haired one eyeing the man thoughtfully, while the other, well-

“What.” The silver-haired one hisses, rounding on Kakashi, and Hayate comes to the rather surprising realisation that he doesn’t recognise the teen, not even by sight. “Some warning, Hatake!”

“This is ample warning, wouldn’t you say?” Kakashi drawls, too sharp to be teasing though it’s not quite hostile either, leaning back on his hands, muscles shifting under the mesh shirt.

Hayate studies Kakashi at that, takes in the tattered remains of his jounin shirt next to him, and the flak jacket laying at his side in two, clean-cut pieces. But Kakashi’s chest isn’t separate from his body, nor even bleeding in the slightest, which is the natural conclusion such a strike would encourage.

Clothing with the evidence of coming on the wrong end of a Wind jutsu, yet body bearing no obvious injuries either means a lucky hit from his opponent or complete control over whatever technique his opponent had used.

He turns his attention back to the silver-haired teen, noting the expensive-looking sword laid next to him on the grass, the slightly too-wide shoulders for an otherwise slim build, and the way he holds himself. Undoubtedly a swordsman, judging by the fact Kakashi had called him, and a good one at that.

But something’s bugging Hayate, and he studies the teen more closely, gaze flickering between him and Kakashi. The kid’s tall, and clearly younger than Kakashi, fifteen or sixteen at most. His silver hair is swept up into a high ponytail, bangs framing his face and plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his dark eyes are flat and narrowed dangerously on the Copy-nin.

He’s cold and all sharp edges, like the blade at his side, looking like he’s weighing the merits of ripping out Kakashi’s throat with his teeth, and-

-Hayate knows that expression, though he’s never seen it on an uncovered face.

“A protégé?” he asks flatly, drawing their attention to him, and immediately, the violence in the boy’s face vanishes as he turns to Hayate, expression all cool assessment and unflappable calm, his eyes taking in Hayate’s every move.

Mercurial, and able to jump between emotions like a switch being flipped. Hayate is definitely familiar with that.

“Yup!” Kakashi agrees, cheerful as could be, eye crinkling in that bullshit smile. “Though don’t fall in love with this one – he’s a right bastard.” He adds, not losing the cheerful tone even as the teenager bares his teeth.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he snaps back, sharp and mocking.

“Kakashi,” Hayate cuts in, pausing for the inevitable cough that rattles his body, “is he yours?”

There’s a moment of silence as his words sink in, and then the thus-far silent teen at Kakashi’s other side breaks out into loud, startled laughter.

“Kouhai.” Kakashi calls, aghast, sounding betrayed, then turns his wide, disbelieving eye to Hayate. “Hayate, I’m twenty-six years old.”

Hayate shrugs, unbothered. “A cousin, then?”

Kakashi’s kouhai snorts, falling into another bout of incredulous laughter, and Hayate thinks he sees tears leak out of their eyes.

“I would rather,” the other teen declares, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon and adamantly not looking at Kakashi, “get captured by Kumo than share blood with him.”

“T-that’s rude, aniki.” The pink-haired one admonishes between chuckles, pushing up from the sprawl they’d ended up in with the force of their laughter. “Y’know, Morino-san implied something similar, back when he hosted us that one time.”

Kakashi snorts, turning from Hayate to shoot his kouhai an incredulous look. “Of all things, you remember that?!”

He gets an impish grin and a careless shrug from the teenager Hayate suspects is, in fact, a girl.

“Much more fun than remembering the circumstances that led to us needing to rely on Morino-san’s hospitality.” She shoots back, and Kakashi’s expression does something complicated beneath his mask, before he turns back to Hayate.

“Answering your, frankly, ridiculous query, no, the brat is not mine, nor a cousin-”

“-As far as we know.” The girl chirps, completely unrepentant, even when she gets two glares for her words, one exasperated and another indignant. “That hair colour isn’t exactly common, taicho.”

“-As far as we know.” Kakashi concedes after a beat, looking like the admission physically pains him. “But he’s fast and crafty and good with sharp things, so basically your ideal type, no?”

“I haven’t had a student in years.” Is what Hayate settles on, because it seems that Kakashi is bizarrely set on this idea.

“That’s okay!” the girl dismisses cheerfully, smiling at him with more warmth than their level of acquaintance justifies. “We’re basically trying to have Shin take the Jounin Spar, but taicho can’t sponsor him because he’s too close to me, and my brother isn’t exactly a people person, Hayate-san.”

Hayate blinks.

“I’m only a Tokubetsu.” He reminds Kakashi, who just shrugs.

“Think of it as mutually beneficial, then. A successful apprenticeship will get you the jump to full jounin.”

“Hayate-san,” the teen in question finally speaks, eyeing him thoughtfully, far more polite than he’d been with Kakashi, “how about a spar? It might prove much more effective in assuaging any concerns you might have than trying to get a straight answer out of this asshole.” He explains, nudging Kakashi’s thigh with the toe of his sandal none-too-gently.

Wondering whether he’s going to come to regret this, Hayate nods.

Chapter Text

A week after his spar with Sakura and throwing Shin at an unsuspecting Hayate, Kakashi is still riding the high of well-executed meddling.

(it helped that Sakura had caught onto the reason for him involving Hayate almost immediately, and, when her brother had gone off to spar with the tokujo, had shuffled over to Kakashi and laid her head against his shoulder, a point of heat against his side. she didn’t say anything. she didn’t have to. Kakashi understood the instinct to help and protect even if he no longer had a pack to apply it to.)

Two weeks later, Sasuke finally gets the Hosenka down, and Kakashi’s given a front-row seat to the Uchiha smiling.

A month after the spar, and a little over a month and a half after getting his team, Naruto starts whining about a C-Rank.

(Kakashi panics. he goes looking for Gai first, but the man is on a mission. Genma’s out of the Village as well, and Yugao in the hospital, recovering from an Earth jutsu to the leg. Bear, when Kakashi stalks into ANBU HQ in full uniform, tells him that Mongoose is on a mission with her new team and he needs to ‘get the fuck out of HQ or he’ll be benched permanently’, so Kakashi goes.)

(not before slamming the door to the Commander’s office, though.)

The next day, he accepts five D-Ranks in one day, and by the end of it, Naruto is too tired to so much as think about a C-Rank.

That only lasts him another week.

The next time Naruto asks, he goes to Genma, who’s visibly tired and hungover when he opens the door, but still eyes him with that assessing gaze, then laughs in his face. Kakashi flips him off and heads to find Yugao, but when he gets to the window by her room in the hospital, he spies Hayate already in there with her, and decides against disturbing them.

He’s not expecting Shin to find him as he’s making his way to HQ again, after demolishing a training ground in a fit of frustrated helplessness in an attempt to work off some of his anxiety.

“Sakura is on a mission.” The teen informs him, pushing away from his seat in one of the outdoor cafes closest to the hidden entrance into HQ Kakashi favours. How the teen knows about that though, he has no idea.

“She got home two days ago and I told her to go see you when she could, but she got called out this morning again.”

“Why such a short turn-around?” Kakashi asks tensely, trying not to show his surprise when Shin falls into step with him. “And why would you tell her that?”

Shin shrugs.

“Apparently, there’s a high demand for infiltrators.” He answers lightly, and Kakashi fills in the gaps: because most of them have an expiration date before they’re identified and eliminated. “And I felt you storm by my apartment, not to mention that Hayate-shishou told me you’re panicking.”

“I am not panicking-!”

“-I really don’t care.” Shin cuts him off, frowning up at him, though his pace doesn’t slow in the least. “You’re obstinate, but you’re rational. If you’re this worried about assigning your team a C-Rank, you must have a reason. So? What is it?”

Kakashi studies the teen, feeling more than a little thrown, but Shin doesn’t so much as blink in the face of his scrutiny, and Kakashi gives in.

“…They’re fragile.” He confesses after a few seconds, using the same explanation he’d given Sakura over a month ago, surprisingly not feeling too embarrassed about admitting the same to her brother. “And I don’t exactly have a good track record with the simple missions. A and S-Ranks I can do, but I’ve never had a C-Rank go according to plan.”

“That’s dumb.” Shin comments mercilessly, though he holds up a hand before Kakashi can snap at him. “I just mean, nobody says you have to go to enemy territory. You could request a mission within the Land of Fire, minimise risk as much as possible, and if something still goes wrong, then at least you’ll know that you did the best you could to prepare for it.”

When Kakashi merely stares at the teen in a somewhat startled silence, Shin scoffs, finally looking away.

“The Hokage is your Uzumaki student’s ward, somewhere down the line, if you go by the old laws pertaining to orphans. If you frame your hesitance for going above D-Rank as a concern for your students’ safety, and request a fairly local mission, I don’t see a reason why the Hokage should deny you.”

Kakashi blinks, shocked to realise that he actually feels…somewhat better.

Reassured.

He debates thanking the teen, but realises that any show of gratitude would cross the invisible line in the sand between them, so he just raises a hand and tugs on Shin’s ponytail, flickering away before the senbon the teen grabs in retaliation can touch him.

He’s got a Hokage to accost.

Wolf appreciates that their new teammate fits into the team without much issue. After that first meeting when he’d been almost certain Mongoose would ask to be reassigned before running a single mission, the kid surprised him by sticking around, and somehow managing to wrangle Bat and Crow into a far less reluctant compliance than Wolf had come to expect from the two.

It helped that his newest teammate didn’t lag behind even with the pace he would set, didn’t need to be coddled on missions despite their obvious youth, and was able to hold their own in spars – barring he avoided using his more unpleasant genjutsu – and did surprisingly well in the two skirmishes they'd gotten into over the four missions they'd ran.

It also helped that their tiny teammate always had spare rations and a full plastic water bottle on top of their usual canteen, as well as more medical supplies than Wolf, Bat, and Crow combined, and the kid seemed more than willing to hand them out freely.

He'd gone through the effort of tracking down Mongoose's file after their first mission though, because he didn’t make the connection between the fact that the kid’s prior assignment had been to Team Ro with the type of missions and leadership Mongoose was probably used to as a result.

Wolf knew Hatake the way most Yamanaka did; through the irate grumblings of whatever unfortunate Clan member was tasked with carrying out the man's Psych Eval every year. The grumblings were mostly about the man himself, as it was generally well-known that Hatake was an obstinate bastard, though a few of his clansmen also dared voice their annoyance with the abject refusal from on-high to heed their warnings that the Copy-nin was not fit for fieldwork.

The man was twenty years of trauma in a flak jacket; he likely shouldn't have been field-approved since even before the Yondaime's death.

Those in ANBU that didn't have the Yamanaka insight into the man's psyche still knew Hatake by sight, even if they'd never ran missions together. Hound was one of the few operatives for whom the mask was rather redundant, so people still made the connection between Hound the ANBU Captain and Hatake Kakashi, bastard extraordinaire.

Due to the man's history, anyone who actually worked with Hound long-term was both, lauded for their survival, and watched with the same scrutiny as Hound himself.

The Uchiha Massacre only made that worse. It was no secret who Weasel had been to those who'd been in the forces at that time. Naturally, one of their own killing almost the entire Clan then going rogue didn't exactly help Hatake's infamy in ANBU either.

So, Wolf deemed his caution justified, and went on a hunt for Mongoose's file in the short downtime between their missions.

What he found was...standard. Almost alarmingly so, considering the team the kid had belonged to, and very much in-line with what Mongoose had divulged when he’d asked. There was one intriguing report about a poison extraction performed on a teammate in the field, but the write-up seemed to imply it was due to a familiarity with the poison used more than anything else.

The file painted Mongoose as a decently well-rounded agent: solid taijutsu despite their comment about needing to improve it, decent mastery of ninjutsu, knack for spotting genjutsu if not casting them, which Wolf had to grudgingly concede, some familiarity with the kodachi of all things, above-average speed and a surprising number of successful infiltrations and assassinations under their belt.

All in all, it sounded like the file of someone who'd spent most of their life in the shadows and had picked up enough in every field to not have whatever specialisation they'd started out with stand out on paper.

It would've all been fine - nothing to scoff at, but nothing spectacular, either - if only the operative it described wasn't eleven years old.

Still, Wolf wasn't exactly a people-person by anybody's standards, either inside the ANBU or out. Since the kid had proved she could handle herself, he wasn't going to treat her any differently.

Though the fact that she'd survived over a year in ANBU despite being, for all intents and purposes, a civilian child...complicated things.

What complicated things even more was their second mission with Mongoose, where Bat had gotten injured - like an idiot, because who in their right mind doesn't expect explosions from Iwa missing-nin? - and, after the fighting was over, all the enemies dead, Mongoose had approached the man with a hand encased in a familiar green glow, a question in the tilt of her head.

Bat had gratefully accepted the offer, but Crow had shot Wolf a sharp look.

Medics in ANBU were coveted. Wolf could count on the fingers of one hand the number of fully qualified med-nin in the ranks, and because of that, they were on a rotation system, assigned to whatever team's mission was most likely to go to shit. Hatake not writing the kid down as a med-nin in her file had likely been done so that he wouldn't have to share, and since Team Ro's missions tended to go to shit more often than not from what Wolf knew, it made sense.

It was still a dick move, though.

There were few capable medical ninja who could hold their own on the field, especially on the level ANBU required, and fewer still who came to ANBU from the hospital or any formal training. Most 'medics' that ran missions were simply shinobi who'd survived long enough to pick up the bare essentials over the years, and made do with the rest.

Yet, after watching Mongoose heal the vicious burn on Bat's arm in a couple of minutes, it was abundantly clear that she'd had training.

Which raised the question of when? And from whom? As far as he was aware, the kid didn't exist outside of the shadow ranks.

Still, Wolf decided keep his mouth shut and observe from a distance. He mentions that the kid was proficient in field first-aid in his report of that mission, covering his ass as it were, but he doesn't do anything beyond that.

He’s starting to like the kid, goddamn him.

Three weeks after his talk with Shin, Kakashi is sure the gods are laughing at him.

And, perhaps, he muses idly, even as oxygen deprivation makes his vision go dark around the edges, it is high time to have a talk with his quietest student.

While Naruto was hiding unexpected intellect, as well as the Shadow Clone technique beneath the veneer of loudmouth dead-last, Kakashi is almost certain he has the boy figured out by now.

Sasuke, for all the trauma and brooding and above-par competence, is also just a twelve-year-old boy, and once Kakashi realises that – once he realised that, for all that he sees a reflection of himself in the boy, Sasuke is not yet as far gone as he had been at his age – he decides he could probably write a 95% reliable manual on how to handle his sourpuss Uchiha.

Sai, he’d thought, was the easiest. Consistent, yet only marginally above-average Academy scores, solid mastery of the Academy Three, mastery of throwing weapons on par with Sasuke’s, and speed that Gai wouldn’t have scoffed at for a genin. His only noteworthy attribute had been his skill with the tanto, but the weapon had been so generic yet also so specific that Kakashi had decided to give the boy the benefit of the doubt and dismissed it.

Only now, stuck in Zabuza’s Water Prison, does he realise what had rubbed him the wrong way about Sai’s perfectly average scores across the board, and his mind goes back to his sensei’s words when he’d first joined ANBU, after he’d voiced his shock at recognising his then-teammate as a boy from his graduating class who’d disappeared from the Academy even before Kakashi had.

“Deception is a shinobi skill just as much as ninjutsu and taijutsu are, Kakashi-kun. Those who fooled their instructors within a certain degree of error as to the extent of their abilities were recruited directly from the Academy into Intelligence or Black Ops. Back when the graduation age was lower, Tobirama-sama made an unspoken guidebook of criteria for those wanting to go directly into specific branches of our society.”

Sai had been aiming for an ANBU candidate, then, though as far as Kakashi was aware, the practise had been discontinued around the time Sarutobi returned for his second term, by which point, Sai shouldn’t have even known about its existence.

Subterfuge being Sai’s goal from the start would certainly explain what he’s seeing now, though.

The student he’d dismissed as self-sufficient and a bit of an airhead is now crouched at the head of the triangle formation his genin have fallen into, one that he had taught them during one of his let’s-treat-fresh-genin-as-ANBU-recruits training sessions, with Tazuna at the centre, passably-ambidextrous Sasuke on the bridge-builder’s left, and Naruto on his right.

There’s a focused look on the part of Sai’s face he can see, no sign of the light-hearted boy always ready to pull out a notepad and coloured pencils to capture the colours of the setting sun, or run his fingers over the soft petals of a blooming flower, or spend just a little too long for a shinobi eating every hot meal, because all food that is not rations should be treasured, sensei.

No, instead, Sai radiates cool focus, his tanto clutched confidently in his left hand, even though, to Kakashi’s knowledge, he prefers his right hand in combat. But his right hand is busy, flying across the scroll spread over his bent leg, seemingly heedless of the Zabuza clone heading for them with waves of Killing Intent radiating from him.

Then, when the clone is within twenty feet of them, there is a pulse of chakra and four cartoon beasts peel themselves off the scroll on Sai’s lap and lunge.

One heads straight for the clone, jumping high, and Kakashi belatedly realises that the creature is a large saber-toothed tiger. Zabuza’s clone raises the Executioner’s Blade and slashes directly at the underbelly of the tiger, yet instead of guts, ink spills out, drenching the blade and its wielder alike. Disoriented, the clone doesn’t dodge in time, and the second tiger bowls it over, fierce jaws snapping over its head until the clone turns into a puddle of water, effectively dispelled.

In the three seconds that it took two of the beasts to dispatch the clone, the other two covered the distance between Sai and Kakashi.

The two tigers jump at Zabuza, a split-second’s difference in their tempo, yet while Zabuza easily slashes through the one that lunges for his sword-arm, Kubikiribocho is far too heavy and unwieldy for him to manage to bring the blade across his body and dispatch the one that targets the arm holding Kakashi prisoner.

Sharp-toothed jaws close around Zabuza’s arm, and Kakashi gets his answer as to the damage the apparently sentient cartoons can deal out when the swordsman curses and drops his blade, a kunai appearing in his hand instead, yet even as the tiger erupts into a fountain of ink, a liberal spray of crimson joins it and Zabuza is forced to wrench his arm free from Kakashi’s prison or risk losing the limb.

(Out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi sees the single tiger that had stayed on shore toss something suspiciously shark-looking into the water, and he thinks he sees a dark shape head for Zabuza’s sunken sword, but he keeps his attention on the swordsman.)

He uses the unexpected window of opportunity when Zabuza leaves himself open to reflexively protect his wounded arm and delivers a punishing side-kick to the man’s ribcage, sending him flying back-!

-straight onto the tusk of the cartoon sea creature that emerges from the water, Zabuza’s sword clutched in its toothless maw, and Kakashi watches with alarming detachment as the tusk pierces straight through Zabuza’s back and ends up just an inch or two south of the swordsman’s heart.

Zabuza looks down, surprise clear in his eyes as blood begins to trickle down from the wound, the horn solid enough to act almost as a cork for most of the blood. Yet the swordsman doesn’t appear to see it as the good it is, because he uses the kunai still in his left hand to slash blindly downwards and the creature bursts into ink and Zabuza falls, but before he can break the surface of the water, three senbon glint through the air and embed themselves in his neck. A hunter-nin materialises from seemingly thin air and catches his body, bent knee under his back, one arm around his neck – mindful of the needles, Kakashi’s dazed mind supplies – and another pulling his damaged arm over their shoulders.

“Thank you for your assistance, Hatake-san.” An soft, androgynous voice filters through the mask, and Kakashi wants to object, his brain calling up a protest but unable to focus enough to decide what it’s protesting against, and then, between one blink and the next, the hunter-nin disappears, Zabuza in tow.

Kakashi makes his way to shore, body heavy with chakra-drain and the remaining adrenaline from the oxygen deprivation coursing through his veins, and shoots his students a crinkled eye-smile.

“We’re going to have a talk about hiding skills from your commanding officers.” He announces cheerfully, mentally adds again, then, his world spins for the final time and his vision goes black.

Sai sits in the field a bit away from Tazuna’s house, a day and a half after their encounter with Zabuza. Kakashi is still unconscious, Sasuke asleep at the house, and Naruto out cold in the meadow where he’d been practising tree-walking until he passed out.

But while Sasuke had had the common sense to head back to the relative safety of their temporary accommodation when exhaustion caught up to him, Naruto was either too stubborn or too ignorant of his own body’s signs. Something Sai is going to rip into him for once he wakes up, because having to go looking for his teammate past midnight in an unfamiliar land because the idiot hadn’t come home had assured that Sai wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Not that he has been anyway, but that was beside the point.

He could’ve carried Naruto back to the house, but he trusted Sasuke’s instincts enough to know that the Uchiha would wake up if he registered any threat, and if at all possible, Sai preferred to avoid Tazuna’s house, especially if his daughter and grandson were also present.

Seeing the disparate family reminds Sai of all the families like their client’s that he’d killed while under Danzo’s thumb. Defenceless civilians whose throats he’d cut in their sleep, or whose water supply he’d poisoned with one of Sakura’s toxins, or whose children he’d held at knifepoint until they surrendered.

Yeah, no, holding vigil over Naruto while the boy sleeps peacefully under the canopy of trees sounds like a much better option than being confronted with just how different he is from his teammates.

When the sky begins to clear though, pre-dawn light bathing the meadow in a soft, foggy glow, Sai takes out his sketchbook and decides to keep busy however he can, even if it means drawing the various flowers and herbs around them. He spreads out his chakra sense like Shin taught him, and makes sure he doesn’t let himself become fully distracted even as he makes himself comfortable.

He plays with shading and switches between styles, then tries to label every herb he’s drawn once he no longer feels like sketching. Trying to remember all the many times Sakura had tried to drill at least basic first-aid into him is a good memory exercise, and it keeps him busy and awake when exhaustion starts weighing his limbs down in a way that’s becoming progressively harder to ignore.

“Ah, that’s actually calendula, not arnica, though I understand the confusion.”

Sai throws the charcoal stick like it’s a senbon before he quite realises he’s moved.

There was chakra in the throw, so it covers the distance between him and the mysterious speaker in a split-second, but his exhaustion makes the throw sail wide, and it doesn’t hit the newcomer as he’d intended, instead striking the bark of the tree behind them, crumbling into dust.

“My apologies.” The newcomer says, holding their free hand up in a placating manner, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sai frowns, his exhaustion pushed momentarily aside in favour of hyper-awareness. He shouldn’t have been startled, because his chakra-sense is still spread out in a ten-metre radius. Which means the newcomer, despite the civilian attire, is definitely a shinobi, and a good one at that.

“…It happens.” He accepts the apology, after far too long for it to not be rude or awkward, but the other teen just smiles.

“I mean you no harm.” They assure him in a quiet, strangely soothing voice, gesturing at the basket cradled in the crook of their elbow. “I’m merely here for the herbs.” And they smile again, slowly getting to their feet, and Sai lets his shoulders relax fractionally.

He doesn’t drop his guard completely, even as he finally takes in the other shinobi fully and sees the carefully-constructed façade of innocent civilian. The other person is dressed in a short-sleeved, pale pink kimono, their dark hair long and loose, their sandals completely unsuited for combat, and Sai can’t detect any obvious weapons hidden around their body.

Of course, that doesn’t mean anything for shinobi of a certain level. He himself is far more dangerous with some ink and paper than he is with a kunai. And, he can acknowledge that he would be far more convinced by the – arguably well-constructed – façade, if not for the fact that he also goes for the guileless genin mien around Kakashi, when in reality he’s anything but.

“I apologise for attacking you.” he says at length, when the other shinobi seems to stay true to their claim to only be there for the herbs, wondering whether Sakura and Shin would approve of his quest to find out more information, or sigh at him for his curiosity.

“It’s alright.” The other raven replies, shooting him another small smile. “You didn’t actually hurt me, and I did startle you.”

Sai hums, not sure what to say to that, and considers the herbs the teen has gathered. He recognises chamomile, echinacea and goldenseal, but there are a few others, and Sai frowns, considering their applications.

“There’s some burdock and comfrey under that tree.” He offers, mostly to see the other teen’s reaction, and catches the minute tensing of the other’s back before they turn to him, curious now.

“…Thank you.” there’s an intelligent glint behind the wide brown eyes, and Sai realises that he isn’t the only one observing and calculating. “I’d thought to ask you, but being able to recognise medicinal herbs doesn’t actually mean knowing their use.”

There’s an open question in the idle phrase, though it’s said with no expectation nor inflection to make it official, but Sai has spent more than half his life deciphering Shin; he hears it anyway.

“My sister studies medicine.” He replies, somewhat grateful for Shin’s endless lessons about coded language and how to hold entire conversations without giving away anything of value.

“She enjoys reading aloud, and was insistent I knew at least basic first-aid.” He shrugs, carefully careless. “I suppose some of the lessons stuck.”

“Your sister sounds wise.” The teen murmurs, heading in the direction Sai has indicated, gaze falling almost absently on the still-slumbering Naruto. “Your friend?”

Sai sees the dig for information for what it is, as well as the double-edged sword hidden beneath the idle words; his reaction to the other teen’s presence had betrayed him as a shinobi, and Naruto is, fortunately and unfortunately at the same time, wearing all his holsters. Seeing as he’s about 95% sure the other teen is a shinobi, this is a very easy way to find out whether Sai will lie to him. He sighs.

“Teammate.” He offers, aiming for that same carefully-neutral tone the other employed. “He didn’t come back to camp for the night so I went looking for him.”

“That’s considerate of you.” the other teen returns, turning to face Sai, though he doesn’t move to stand up just yet. There’s a small, almost playful smile playing around the corners of their lips now, and their eyes, when they glance at Sai, are bright. “You never know what strange folk lurk about these lands.”

Sai can’t help his snort at the words, nor his intrigue at the new dimension of the battle of wits the other teen has offered.

“You’re hardly the strangest I’ve seen.” He shoots back, watching as the teen tips their head and laughs quietly, eyeing the black choker around their neck. It’s placed in such a way that it would rather strategically hide any protruding cartilage that could betray their gender either way, if androgyny, not femininity, is the goal.

“Ah, excuse my manners.” The raven demurs, sweeping their hair behind one ear, though it’s a futile endeavour. “I’m Haku.” Their eyes, when they meet Sai’s gaze, are amused, making him realise the other is likely aware of his contemplations from moments earlier. “I’m a boy.”

“I’m Sai.” He replies, opting against a fake name. He already doesn’t have a surname, and, if this boy is who he’s starting to suspect he is, then he already knows who Sai is. Instead, he says the next thing that comes to mind, sleep-deprived as he is, which is; “You’re very beautiful. Would you let me draw you?”

Pure shock colours Haku’s face, followed almost immediately by a rather endearing blush. “I- ah, um- thank you?”

“It was a fact more than a compliment, but you’re welcome nonetheless.” Sai shoots back, unable to quite bite back the smile that’s pulling at the corners of his lips, and the other boy huffs, though it appears mostly in good humour.

“Why do you want to draw me?” Haku asks, confusion, suspicion, and slight bashfulness evident, and Sai realises with a start that the boy isn’t being as careful to hide his reactions as he was at the beginning, though Sai doesn’t even try to capitalise on the fact; he’s enjoying their back-and-forth far too much.

“Like I said: you’re beautiful, I’m an artist. Beauty is something I like to appreciate.” He considers the sketchbook in his lap, then offers it to the other boy. “Here. Have a look.”

He knows every sketch that’s in there inside and out, and there’s nothing incriminating, nor anything that could be used against his family. Haku stares at him for a minute, then shuffles closer. He takes the sketchbook like he expects it to turn into an explosive tag, then eyes Sai again before carefully settling opposite him, closer than before, and opening it.

Instead of watching his sketches, Sai watches Haku’s face. Watches the simple joy in his eyes when he flicks through Sai’s many drawings of flowers, the awe at Sai’s attempt at capturing the sunset over the river that cuts through training ground 7, the way his lips tick up when he finds the sketch of Sakura’s summon, little Tamaki-chan, back when she was small enough to pass for a house cat, lounging in the spot of sunshine on Sakura’s bed.

Haku spends the longest on one of Sai’s only attempts at slice-of-life: a scene from a few weeks earlier, with Shin’s lungs healed and Sakura back from her sabotaged mission, her arm in a sling. It had been sunset; Shin sat in the alcove by the window, one knee raised, straight arm resting against it, head tilted to look out the window and watch the people passing by on the street below. Sakura was perched on the floor by the sofa, legs crossed, a scroll spread on the floor before her, and though Sai only drew her profile, he’d still caught the thoughtful frown on her face.

Sai watches as Haku traces carefully over his siblings’ figures, his fingers fluttering above the paper, as if not daring to touch.

“You care for these people. A lot.” He murmurs, glancing up at Sai, expression unreadable.

“They’re my siblings. Aneue and aniki.” He replies, feeling his own lips quirk up in a fond smile. “They’re precious to me.”

“Precious.” Haku echoes, gazing at the drawing again, before he looks at Sai. “Like beauty is precious?”

Sai’s smile turns wry, because- well. There wasn’t really a reason he shouldn’t have expected another test from the teen.

“Not quite.” He admits, and Haku gifts him with a smile when he doesn’t even try to lie. “I wouldn’t kill for beauty.”

Haku’s eyes are sharp when they snap to him, but when he realises that it’s a statement and not a threat, something almost…relieved replaces the wariness.

“I understand the sentiment.” The other boy murmurs, surprising Sai. “Though I’m afraid I must raincheck being your model. The person these herbs are for can’t afford for me to dawdle much longer.”

Sai tries not to let his disappointment show, accepting the sketchbook back, silently appreciating the care with which Haku handles it.

“I understand.” He manages, though he’s aware his voice has lost its earlier warmth. “I wish you well.”

Haku smiles, and it’s sadder now, tinged with something Sai doesn’t dare put a finger on. The other boy sighs and gets to his feet, picking up his abandoned basket like he’d almost forgotten it was there.

When he’s almost at the treeline, Sai speaks, unable to let the question go unvoiced.

“Haku,” he calls, and the other boy pauses, turning indulgently, “is Zabuza after Tazuna for his own agenda, or because Gato is paying him for it?”

The air around them drops in temperature by a good ten degrees. Then, Haku is suddenly in front of him, basket abandoned, face a blank mask, the earlier softness gone, senbon pressing dangerously against Sai’s trachea.

“You should be,” the boy murmurs, his breath fanning over Sai’s face, his face closed off and eyes narrowed, “very careful with your next words.”

“I said my piece.” Sai replies, feeling the senbon pierce skin when he speaks. “Which is it?”

Haku studies him narrowly, not lowering his weapon, and Sai absently realises that the other boy is almost in his lap, his knee resting rather uncomfortably on Sai’s crossed shins.

“Gato pays well.” Haku says at last, drawing back slightly, though keeping his needle against Sai’s throat, and Sai appreciates the caution, even if it’s misplaced.

“…But he’s a means to an end.” He fills in the blank, watching as something bitter twists Haku’s face for a split-second. Carefully, telegraphing his every move, Sai brings his hand up and wraps his fingers around the other boy’s wrist, though he doesn’t so much as try to push Haku’s hand away from his throat.

“And if he were to be…removed?” he asks, feels Haku’s pulse jump beneath his fingers as the other boy considers his words.

“Then Zabuza-san would have no reason to do his bidding.” Haku admits, eyes boring into Sai’s. Or pursue Tazuna and your team, remains unspoken between them, but Sai still hears it.

Sai licks his lips, a nervous tick he can’t quite shake, and the other boy tracks the movement before his gaze snaps back to Sai’s eyes.

“Will you tell me where he is?” Sai pushes, carefully not smiling when Haku lowers his senbon, though the raven makes no move to remove Sai’s fingers from his wrist.

“He has a shinobi guard.” Haku warns him, and Sai smiles wryly.

“That’s okay.” He replies, squeezing Haku’s wrist. “You may have realised I’m not exactly a normal genin.”

Haku smiles too at that, a quicksilver thing, there and gone again, and rattles off the location, along with an approximation of Gato’s schedule.

“Thank you.” Sai murmurs, releasing the other boy’s wrist with a final squeeze, and dropping his eyes, letting the other teen disappear if he wishes.

“No, Sai-kun. Thank you.” and Sai is startled by the hand that cups his cheek, tilting his head up briefly to meet the other boy’s gaze. “I hope we meet again, though I dread that it’ll be as enemies.”

And then Haku is gone, not so much as a breeze to betray his departure, and a quick glance around proves that he’s taken his basket with him.

Sai smiles, wide and determined, and he resolves not breathe a word of this encounter to Shin or Sakura.

Still, he pulls out a scroll and sets to writing a message in their favoured shorthand. He has a mobster to kill, and for that, he’ll need to secure some protection for his team and some sleep for himself.

Wolf’s decision to keep his mouth shut and observe from afar changes a month and a half into having the kid on the team, on their fifth mission outside the Village. They're in the Land of Rivers, circling back from Hidden Valleys after a successful infiltration-assassination where the kid took centre-stage, when a white shape flies overhead, then dips, heading unerringly for their newest teammate.

Mongoose freezes, jerking the rest of them to a halt, and holds her arm out for the messenger bird to land on.

Only, upon closer inspection, it's not a messenger bird at all, but a black and white three-dimensional drawing of a bird, a scrap of fabric in its beak. Then, it shifts before their eyes, becoming a slip of paper, the fabric falling at Mongoose's feet.

There's a moment of silence, then-

"Shit."

Wolf eyes the girl sharply, less due to the language used and more because of who it comes from.

Then, he nearly startles when the kid is suddenly right in front of him, head tilted up to stare at him, giving him a glimpse of vibrant green eyes beneath her mask.

"Taicho, I have a request." she says, and despite the mask muffling her words, he can clearly hear the desperation in her voice, though the determination in her eyes tells him that it's a request only in name.

He inclines his head, willing to listen, even if that turns out to be as far as his acquiesce goes.

"I just got a distress signal from my brother. He's on Hound-taicho's genin team. They were attacked by Kiri missing-nin. Hound is-" she pauses, swallows, barrels on, "team leader's down."

Despite the urgency to her tone, Wolf has to appreciate the thought in her wording; not a single name, no identifiers, no location. Even if any undesirables are within hearing range, they won't be able to gleam anything from what she says.

"And the request?" he pushes, because he has an inkling, judging by the fact that she's personally involved with at least two people on the team, but he wants to hear her say it.

"We're ahead of schedule for our mission. I know their location, and we're close. Can I-" she cuts off the question before it has a chance to fully form. Pauses. Breathes. Rewords. "Requesting permission to detour to survey the situation and offer whatever assistance needed?"

Wolf studies the girl, then holds his hand out for the note. Mongoose hesitates, but obligingly passes the paper over, and Wolf studies her for a moment longer before turning his attention to the note.

He feels his eyebrow climb up despite himself.

CIV.ESC. LoW. 4HOS, ////, TL OoC. 2HOS X, 1HOS M.Z, 1 UNK. ASS.REQ.

It's...the shortest of shorthands, almost incomprehensible at first glance. Either made with no Intelligence training, relying on familiarity of the receiver to convey meaning, or with so much Intelligence training as to know that the hardest to break ciphers are often the most straightforward ones.

He reviews what Mongoose had told him, considering the note again.

CIV.ESC is the easiest to decipher, especially considering genin: civilian escort. Judging by the fact that Mongoose had said they're close, LoW is definitely Land of Waves. 4HOS...4 hostiles, likely, the crudely-drawn, crossed out slashes a mockery of the Kiri hitai-ate, missing-nin at that. TL OoC gives him pause, but then he remembers the wording Mongoose used: team leader. Team leader...out of commission? Probably. Two hostiles dead, one whose identity is known, M.Z, one unknown? Then, assistance required, or requested, doesn't matter really.

M.Z gives him pause, though.

Wordlessly, as if sensing his confusion, Mongoose reaches for his belt, digging into his pack. Wolf freezes, Bat and Crow along with him. Him at the fact that the kid doesn't show even a flicker of fear, them likely at the girl's sheer nerve; Wolf knows seasoned jounin who'd pause before going within three feet of him. After a moment though, Mongoose pulls out his Bingo Book, flipping through the pages until she stops at the one she's looking for, and turns it over so he can see.

Momochi Zabuza's profile stares back at him.

...'Shit' indeed.

"Do you trust the information?" he checks, because he's not about to go gallivanting off to civilian-land and risk coming across an S-Rank missing-nin on false info of all things.

"The technique is unique to my brother. Only he could've sent it, and the message was coded to my chakra: it wouldn't have opened for anyone else."

The words are reassuring, but the tone they're said in makes them sound more like 'fucking duh'.

"...Bat, Crow, make camp somewhere. We'll meet you at the border by the ocean three days from now. If we're not back then, assume we need extraction."

He can feel his teammates' disbelief the moment he finishes speaking, but he's more focused on the child in front of him. She sags with relief at his words, making it clear that while she would've likely gone anyway, not having to do it with the accusation of insubordination hanging over her head is a welcome development.

Wolf almost smiles behind his mask.

"Alright, Mongoose." he orders, and the kid straightens, snapping to attention. "Lead the way."

And, just as he's thinking that this is probably the weirdest situation he's had happen on a mission in a good five years, it gets weirder.

Because Mongoose bends down, picking up the scrap of fabric she'd dropped, then crouches and goes through a sequence of very familiar hand seals before slamming her palm against the ground.

When the smoke clears, a...cat? appears, up to around Wolf's knees, white with pale grey markings all over its body.

"Sabotage, hime? Again?" The tiny summon chirps, looking exasperated. "You need a desk job."

"Ah, not this time, Tamaki-chan." Mongoose demurs, making a move as if to scratch at her cheek, before realising that her mask is in the way and letting her hand drop, offering the scrap of fabric to the tiger instead. "Otouto's in trouble, though."

"You should've led with that!" The tiger chastises, then looks over Mongoose's shoulder at the rest of Wolf's team, before focusing on him, as if only just noticing them.

The pale blue eyes that drill into him are too intelligent by half for that to be the case though, and there's an unexpected weight behind the feline's gaze when Wolf holds it.

Sabotage. he belatedly realises the summon had said. 'Again', at that.

Something in Wolf's stomach twists uncomfortably. He doesn't care. He can't care. Mongoose is just a temporary addition. She'll go back to Team Ro as soon as Hatake gets his brats through the Chunin Exams.

She doesn't need him.

Yet, Mongoose turns to him for guidance, and despite her clear haste, waits for his nod of approval before she gives the go-ahead to the summon.

Then they're running, and Wolf has an excuse to not think about anything for a while.

The Land of Fire is prosperous. The most prosperous out of the other Nations, barring perhaps Lightning, but that's because they trade in diamonds and precious gems.

Land of Waves...doesn't reflect that prosperity.

It's been a few years since the last time Wolf was anywhere near the area, but he doesn't remember the poverty and malnutrition being quite so bad, or far-spread. A recent development, then.

Mongoose is quiet beside him, grim, and Wolf figures he'll wait until after they make sure Hatake and his brats are alright before he asks for an explanation.

He can be considerate like that, sometimes.

Despite running at shinobi speed, it's still night-time by the time the tiger slows down.

"They're in the house about two hundred metres ahead." the summon informs them as they stop at the treeline. "I count three civilians and four shinobi. Sai-chan is on the roof."

"Thank you, Tamaki-chan." Mongoose sighs, bending down to scratch the tiger under its chin.

"Always a pleasure, hime." the summon purrs, tilting its head to get a better angle for the scratches.

"Be sure you introduce my brothers to your new team soon. Hopefully in better circumstances than the last time." it adds meaningfully and Mongoose huffs, making the tiger laugh before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

"Thank you, taicho." The girl says suddenly, a propos nothing. "This means a lot to me."

"You realise I'll want an explanation after this, don't you?" he shoots back flatly, but to his surprise, the girl just laughs quietly.

"That's fair." she agrees, adding under her breath, "I figure I owe you one."

Then, as if she's said what she wanted, she sets off again, and Wolf has no choice but to follow.

When they reach the roof, he almost doesn't notice the genin at first, and it takes him a moment to realise that the boy is stifling his chakra and scent-blocking.

Mongoose turns her back on Wolf without a care, and that, too, is novel, heading straight for the boy, pushing her mask aside the moment he spots her, and Wolf watches the genin's whole body go tense before he relaxes and gets to his feet with surprising grace, letting Mongoose pull him into a desperate hug.

"You came." comes the quiet, relieved whisper from the boy, followed immediately by a fierce 'of course' from Wolf's subordinate. He can't see her face given that her back is to him, but the hand she has on her brother's neck moves, her fingers tapping an odd rhythm against the boy's skin.

Wolf sees the teen tense again, then flat, onyx eyes flash to him, and he disables the stealth jutsu he'd unconsciously activated, the technique second nature by now, and makes sure the boy can see his hands.

"That's Wolf-taicho." Mongoose murmurs, though her fingers don't stop tapping, and the boy relaxes. "He allowed this detour."

"Thank you." Mongoose's brother - Sai, if he remembers what the tiger had said right - says after a beat, making as close to eye-contact as he can through Wolf's mask.

Foolish, he muses, or fearless.

"For not making my sister have to do something stupid to get here." The boy adds.

...Fearless, then.

"You seem certain that she would." Wolf can't help but point out, and he gets an odd smile from the boy for his words.

"Oh, absolutely." Mongoose replies, and though her words are light, Wolf can hear the weight behind them. Can hear the threat.

Her fingers finally stop moving, and Wolf realises belatedly why the pattern had seemed weird. Why he even noticed a pattern at all.

Morse code.

He almost laughs again.

The hand that had been tapping whatever message Mongoose couldn't say out loud stills, then glows green, checking for injuries. "Teammates?"

"Sleeping below. Only scratches and fatigue." the genin reports, sagging slightly in his sister's hold, and Wolf wonders when was the last time the kid had slept. "They were scared, though. Didn't help that sensei collapsed right after the battle and hasn't woken up since."

"I'll make sure Kakashi books them an appointment with Psych, when you get back." Mongoose mutters, smoothing back her brother's hair. "When was the last time you slept?" she asks, voicing Wolf's thoughts from a moment earlier.

"Sensei used his Sharingan most of the battle, so I think it's just chakra depletion, but he was also held underwater for a while, so I don't..." the boy swallows, pulls back from the hug, and pauses in the same way his sister had, mere hours earlier. "Haven't been able to since the fight. Naruto and Sasuke are good for genin, but they wouldn't be able to sense Zabuza approach, and he's not exactly subtle. With sensei out of commission, I just...couldn't."

There's...a lot to unpack there, Wolf muses, but Mongoose speaks before he can get into it.

"I'll take a look at Kakashi. If there's anything other than chakra exhaustion, I'll fix it." She kisses her brother on the forehead, then slips her mask back over her face as she turns away from him.

'Give me a moment', she signs to Wolf, then hops off the roof, leaving him alone with the genin.

Once his sister disappears, whatever fatigue the boy might've been feeling is wiped away, and his eyes affix themselves to Wolf, his posture tight. Ready.

"You're a Konoha-nin." Wolf placates, wondering why a fresh genin has the instincts of a war veteran. "And a child. I won't harm you."

The boy just smiles humourlessly and doesn't relax in the least, and Wolf thinks back to the summon's words again: sabotage.

"You mentioned an 'unknown' in your message." he speaks up again when a few seconds pass in silence, and the boy narrows his eyes. "Anything you can tell me about them?"

The boy studies him for a moment, that same contemplative air around him that his sister had displayed, then nods sharply.

"They were dressed like Kiri hunter-nin." he says, and Wolf absently wonders whether it's normal for genin to know what Kiri hunter-nin dress like.

"They hit Momochi on the neck with senbon, here, here, and here." he continues, pointing to the spots on his neck as he says them. "And they hit their target from up in a tree, at least fifteen metres away."

That's impressive, almost worrying marksmanship, but Wolf is almost more worried by the fact that the kid knows that.

"It would've all been fine, if not for the fact that the hunter-nin then took Momochi's body away." he pauses, frowns. "The whole body."

...Definitely too familiar with Kiri hunter-nin protocols for a normal genin, Wolf decides.

"Not a real hunter-nin, then." Mongoose's voice floats over to them as she reappears, voicing what they're all thinking. "Likely an accomplice."

"Naruto and Sasuke were too keyed up on adrenaline to be of much use, sensei was weakened and unconscious, and someone had to protect the client." the boy rattles off, something fragile in his tone, even if his face is impassive. "Pursuit seemed...unwise."

Mongoose must read something else in her brother's voice though, because she sweeps over to him and pulls his head to her shoulder.

"Nobody's blaming you, Sai." she says fiercely, and, ah. That makes sense. "You considered the circumstances, made a decision in the absence of your team leader, and got all of your team as well as the client to safety. You did good. You can sleep now."

The boy fully sags then, letting his body fall against his sister's, who braces for the added weight with chakra in her feet, then slowly sinks to the ground, stretching her legs out in front of her and guiding her brother's head to rest on her thigh.

The boy is out like a light in a matter of seconds.

Mongoose sighs, then turns her head to look at Wolf, before patting the spot on the roof next to her meaningfully. After a moment, once she sees him start moving, she carefully reaches up and takes off her mask and the attached hood, and Wolf almost misses a step.

Though the features are still child-like, with big green eyes and smooth, unblemished skin, the expression on the girl's face makes her look old. And not just old but tired. Weary. Like she's seen too much.

Carefully, Wolf takes a seat next to her, though he doesn't move to remove his mask just yet.

"You told Bat and Crow three days." she murmurs, licking her lips absently, then that keen green gaze slides to him. "I figure we can wait till the morning, then head off. There was nothing wrong with Kakashi beyond a few cuts and bruises and a bad case of chakra exhaustion, but the Sharingan is a goddamn leech. He'll be unconscious for at least another day without a chakra transfusion."

Wolf doesn't say anything, and the girl takes a deep breath.

"If Momochi comes between now and the morning, I'll take him." she pronounces shortly, and Wolf stills at that declaration. "I don't expect you to get involved in the fight for me, taicho."

"...You think you can take the Demon of the Mist by yourself?" he asks, not sure if he's actually incredulous or once again merely needs to hear her say it.

Mongoose looks at him, licks her lips again, a nervous tick, then nods, not dropping eye-contact. "Yes."

"Alright." Wolf sighs, then reaches up and wrenches his ANBU mask off, tugging off his hood while he's at it. "I'd like that explanation now."

Sakura stares up at her captain, completely thrown.

He's a Yamanaka.

…She's fucked.

Chapter Text

He's a Yamanaka.

…She's fucked.

Wolf-taicho is tanned, with ghostly pale blue eyes and curly straw-blond hair that reminds her of Shisui’s in its wildness. He looks anywhere between mid-twenties to early thirties, because while he seems young, there's a distant look in his eyes, one that she'd seen on Tsunade’s face the few times her shishou had dropped her masks around her.

He looks tired in the way that sleep can't fix, and something in Sakura aches in sympathy.

Yet her taicho's most noticeable feature is the scar that runs across his face, the tissue raised and pale pink, starting at the outer edge of his left eyebrow, cutting over his eye, across the bridge of his nose, and ending less than an inch away from the right corner of his lips.

It's a miracle it didn't gouge out his eye when the injury happened.

Sakura has stared the Head of T&I in the eyes and not blinked, but something about her taicho makes Ibiki look like a child, and she gets the feeling Wolf isn’t actually trying to be unsettling.

She swallows.

To tell, or not to tell?

She studies her captain, takes in the way he’s just sitting there, waiting for her, eyes scanning their surroundings almost idly, though she knows he’s likely on hyper-alert, despite his posture.

"My name is Sakura." she begins belatedly, deciding to start from the most obvious, having to clear her throat of the lump that had formed there. "I have two brothers."

She strokes Sai's hair gently, certain that the teen won't so much as stir at the act with how exhausted he’d been. If it’s also an excuse to not look at her captain while she says her next bit, well. Nobody needs to know.

She takes a deep breath and drops her bombshell.

"All three of us were once in ROOT."

Sakura feels more than sees her taicho tense at that, and closes her eyes.

She weighs up how much she knows about her captain (not much), how much she trusts the man (...probably more than she reasonably should) then how much he seems to trust her (enough to allow her ‘request’ and not immediately stab her just now, so. yay?).

Then, she considers how much Genma, Yugao and Kakashi had been hurt by her keeping everything a secret for eight months, and finds that her decision is already made.

Absolute worst case scenario, she can probably kill Wolf herself, if he reacts negatively.

"I was taken into ROOT at six years old.” She tells him, keeping her eyes closed, and her captain is completely silent at her side.

“Sai and Shin, my other brother, were already there. We planned and prepared for almost four years, and then we, well." she smiles sardonically, though she doesn't open her eyes. "We brought ROOT down."

She's pretty sure Wolf has stopped breathing.

But now that she’s talking, she doesn’t feel like she can stop.

"Afterwards… Shin was ill. Lung disease. He’s been in the hospital the last few years. Sai was a child at heart, despite everything, so he was placed in the Academy, to be socialised. And I...I fell into ANBU."

"Nobody falls into ANBU." her captain's voice breaks the heavy atmosphere and prompts her to open her eyes, because this is the first time she’s heard his voice without the mask to filter it, and he sounds…rough.

His head is turned away from her, but there's a grimace twisting his lips and she thinks he might be angry. Not at her, though, if she’s reading him correctly, a task made infinitely easier by the lack of a mask on his face.

Interesting.

Still, she merely shrugs, her smile sardonic. "They do when they're the bargaining chip."

Wolf-taicho whips his head around so fast she's sure his neck cracks, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes, though she feels almost fond.

"Taicho, I was willing to go through you to get to my brother, if you hadn't agreed to the detour." she tells the man wryly, watching as the alarmed look in his eyes turns contemplative. "You really think I would've blinked at a few years in ANBU when I was willing to take on Shimura and ROOT just so my family would have a future?"

“Right.” The blond breathes after a moment, raising a hand to rub at his scar. Sakura lets him have a moment to absorb her words, aware that he probably didn’t expect to be saddled with a revolutionary when she was assigned to his team.

“And the gaps in your file?” Her captain asks, recovering remarkably quickly. “Your ANBU record didn’t say anything about the medical ninjutsu. Or the summons.”                                                                                                             

Sakura considers him for a second, realises that she doesn’t feel a flicker of fear or distrust towards the man despite their admittedly short acquaintance, then smiles sharply.

“It probably didn’t say anything about the Mokuton either, hm?”

He stills. Blinks. Drops his hand from his face and turns to her, that pupil-less gaze sizing her up, and Sakura carefully keeps her eyes on the scar on the bridge of his nose.

“…I’m not going to perform a Mind-Walk without your consent.” He tells her, not commenting on her admission just yet, and he sounds almost amused, though wryly so.

Sakura winces despite herself.

“Sorry.” She breathes, dropping her head and raising the hand not petting Sai’s hair to rub at her eyes. “Bad experience with dojutsu.”

“Understandable, and I’m used to it.” He brushes her apology off without much fanfare.

His comment makes her eye the man sharply though, and now he’s definitely amused at her reaction.

“There’s a reason you don’t find many Yamanaka in ANBU.” He explains vaguely, mirth dancing in his eyes, though his smile is too sharp for it to be completely genuine. “Or hear of Yamanaka genjutsu masters.”

Sakura considers his words, the odd tone they’re said in, and the fact that for all that she’s been on their team for nearly two months and had almost back-to-back missions the whole time, this is the first time she’s seeing any of her new teammates without their mask.

The camaraderie she assumed was a given in the shadow ranks from her stint in Team Ro is sorely missing in her new team. At least when it comes to Crow and Bat’s interactions with their captain.

“Stop trying to figure me out, kid.” Wolf huffs, though he doesn’t actually sound irritated, still weirdly amused for some reason, though she wouldn’t have known that if she wasn’t so used to reading the signs from Kakashi’s eye, or Shin’s non-expressions.

“Finish your sob story.” He orders instead, steering her back to their original topic. “Why is so much missing from your file?”

Sakura narrows her eyes at the abrupt change of subject and makes a mental note to press the issue at a later date, then shrugs.

“Mokuton’s too distinctive.” She explains, using the same reason she’d given Kakashi what feels like years earlier, though it was only a little over three months ago. “Medical ninjutsu would land me in the hospital, or on rotation, and I liked Team Ro. And summons are not exactly common, particularly with civilian-born ninja.”

Her taicho nods, though he still looks expectant, and Sakura realises that the goddamn Yamanaka knows there’s something else and he’s not going to let it go.

Sakura sighs, feeling oddly sheepish.

“It might also be because, uh, ROOT didn’t exactly keep files on its operatives, so even the Hokage doesn’t know everything about what I can do.” She admits, shooting her captain a side-long look. “And I…didn’t feel the need to inform him of it.”

She’s not sure what reaction she’s expecting at her admission. Suspicion, maybe. Accusation of treason, if Wolf is feeling particularly mean.

But it’s certainly not the thoughtful silence that greets her words, or the way Wolf’s icy eyes narrow at whatever he’s putting together.

“Does Hatake know?” he asks after a beat, and Sakura hums.

“About my abilities and my ROOT ‘sob story’. And he’s met Shin.” She smiles sharply, earning a raised eyebrow from her captain, so she continues. “He doesn’t know about Sai, though. Thinks he’s just a normal Academy student.”

She can feel Wolf’s disbelief, and she relishes it.

“How.” It’s not a question, it’s almost entirely flat, and Sakura laughs quietly, because this has been years in the making and she’s giddy.

“We made sure Sai never crossed paths with my ANBU team.” She divulges, easily. “It took some manoeuvring, but we managed.”

“And your brother’s skill?” her captain presses, far blunter than Sakura’s used to, and she welcomes it. After living with Shin and navigating between the many layers of what Kakashi says versus what he actually means, someone who speaks clearly is a welcome change. “He acts like a war child.”

When Sakura grins, it’s with far more teeth than she usually allows herself.

“I suggested he do the Nidaime’s Academy ANBU test.” She admits, and her cheeks hurt from the size of her smile, especially when Wolf stills at her side. “And Kakashi, for all his all-seeing eye, is an expert in denial. If he doesn’t want to see something, he won’t.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then her captain hangs his head and laughs.

It’s quiet and hoarse, like he’s rusty, as if no longer used to laughter, and it only lasts a few seconds, but it’s undoubtedly a laugh.

“What I wouldn’t give to be there when he finally realises.” Wolf-taicho breathes, more to himself than to her, but Sakura picks up on it.

“Genma and Yugao said the same thing.” She tells him with a smile, this one warm, more genuine. “And I was thinking of inviting Kakashi to dinner if he still doesn’t realise Sai is my brother after this mission. I’d invite my old ANBU team and Kakashi’s genin team anyway; it wouldn’t be too much of a problem to cook for one more.”

She sends the man a look when he merely stares at her, and sighs, clarifying. “You’d be more than welcome, taicho.”

Her captain blinks, then- “Inosuke.”

“Hm?” Sakura hums, distracted by Sai twitching in her lap, his face screwing up and muscles tensing. She soothes him with a pulse of healing chakra, encouraging his brain to fall back into deep sleep, then looks back up at her captain questioningly, finding his gaze already on her.

“My name. It’s Inosuke. You don’t need to call me ‘taicho’ when I’m not wearing the mask.” He informs her, and his voice is- weird, to Sakura. Wooden. Like he’s waiting for her to- something.

“Alright.” She agrees, curious. “Inosuke-senpai, then.”

Her captain – Inosuke – makes a sound between a laugh and a wheeze at that, and Sakura is officially confused.

“You’d be the cause,” he manages, once he gathers himself, “of so many heart attacks, if you ever called me that in public.” He tells her, though there’s something almost cruelly gleeful in his eyes at the idea.

“You don’t really like people, do you, senpai?” Sakura muses thoughtfully, unapologetically blunt, drawing a snort from the man.

“I assure you,” he says blandly, his earlier good humour wiped clean like it was never there, “that the sentiment is definitely mutual.”

Sakura watches him for a few more seconds, for all the good it does her.

Even though his ANBU mask is firmly in his lap, Inosuke doesn’t need one. His face becomes smooth and placid once he notices her looking, his mouth flat, neither conveying amusement nor displeasure, and his eyes could just as well have been lakes or mirrors, for all the expression they show.  

“Ugh.” Sakura groans, giving up and leaning back on her hands, turning her face up to the night sky.

“I’ll be sure to pick a suitably dramatic moment to give people heart attacks.” She promises dryly, and gets a quicksilver quirk of the lip for her efforts, though it’s gone between one blink and the next.

“Get some sleep.” Her captain orders, nudging her hip with the toe of his sandal. “We’re high-tailing it back to the border, then to Konoha come morning, and I’m not going to save you if you miss a branch ‘cause you’re sleep deprived.”

“Liar.” Sakura mumbles, but obligingly unclips her pack and pushes it away until she can lie back and use it as a pillow for her head. Then, she yanks at her ANBU cloak until the clasps give, and wrestles the material until it settles over her torso and arms like a blanket, though she’s careful to not accidentally smother Sai.

“Night, senpai.” She murmurs, closing her eyes and seeking out Sai’s hand with her own, while her senses focus on the calming flow of his chakra.

She drifts off to sleep secure in the knowledge that her brother and Kakashi are alive, and feeling oddly safe with Inosuke’s presence at her side.

She sleeps peacefully.

Inosuke snaps awake from the shallow doze he’d fallen into when someone next to him stirs.

It’s not Mongoose – Sakura – though, but her brother, who sits up and takes in the quiet, pre-dawn morning with far too alert eyes for someone who was recently deeply asleep.

The teen’s gaze flits to him briefly, and Inosuke absently realises that he’s still not wearing his ANBU mask, but he lets the boy study him anyway, feeling only mildly curious about what the kid might find.

The raven seems to find something, though, because he lets go of Sakura’s hand and gets to his feet, stretching his arms over his head until his back pops audibly, then tamping down on his chakra until Inosuke would’ve mistaken him for a squirrel if the kid wasn’t standing right next to him.

Then, the boy taps his belt and a moment later, unseals a mask, though it’s not anything Inosuke’s seen before. It’s plain, for one, moulded into canine features instead of having them painted on, and a deep blue, instead of porcelain-white.

“If aneue wakes before I’m back, please tell her I’ve gone to check out the bridge.” The teen murmurs, pinning Inosuke with a blank look, so different from the hesitant, vulnerable boy he saw the night before.

Inosuke raises an eyebrow, not missing the hidden meaning. “And where will you actually go?”

Sai smiles, and it’s the same sharp, humourless thing his sister favoured the night before.

“To cut the head off the snake.”

And then, he slips his mask on, obscuring his face, and disappears.

Cut the head off the snake and the body will die. Inosuke muses, still staring at where the boy had been mere seconds previous. Let’s just hope that he won’t get bitten.

Once he ditches aneue’s new captain, it’s disturbingly easy to locate Gato’s hideout with Haku’s instructions in mind.

He’s working blind, he knows; he shouldn't be doing this, he should stop and think and come up with a plan because there's so much riding on this, but there's no time.

Sai throws up a basic camouflage genjutsu, keeps his chakra muted, and sneaks inside during the guards' shift change. They’re shinobi, like Haku had said, missing-nin by the looks of it, but no higher than chunin-level.  

He can take them.

When he actually gets inside, he thinks he might not need a plan after all - the ego of powerful men can apparently be trusted to always be greater than their common sense. Sai heads for the biggest, most embellished door at the end of the corridor and lets himself sink underground, resurfacing inside the room.

He finds Gato at his desk, smoking a cigar and counting money, and it's easy, too easy, to creep until he’s behind the man, still hidden under the illusion, his chakra carefully masked.

And then, he strikes.

One hand covers Gato's mouth, knocking the cigar onto the desk, while the other brings his knife to the man’s throat, cutting through the soft tissue and the trachea first, a quick kill.

He switches knives, the new one with a serrated edge, and his second cut is longer, deeper, and he forces the knife until it meets spine and then keeps going. Sai watches detachedly as more blood sprays from the wound and onto the piles of money on the desk, moves his hand from Gato’s mouth to his hair, and with a final effort and the disgusting feeling of metal sawing through bone, the head is separate and the mob boss’ body slumps.

Carefully, Sai seals the head into a storage scroll, grabs four of the enormous money bags after a brief approximation of how much they contain, and heads for the window. Just before he can make the jump though, he pauses and turns back.

Gato's headless body is still, the only movement in the room being the smoke curling up from his still smouldering cigar, and an idea strikes Sai.

He smiles.

He sets the bags of money down and seals them into another one of his empty storage scrolls, and when he's done, he pushes his mask up, takes a deep breath, concentrates, and breathes out a small stream of fire. 

Small is all he can afford while aiming for subtlety, but that's all he needs. The fire catches on the paper bills in the unzipped bags, and Sai waits until it spreads to the wooden furniture and finally reaches the edges of Gato's suit.

He pulls his mask back over his face and heads for the window, before the fire reaches the curtains or the smoke starts seeping out from under the door and alerts Gato's lackeys to come running.

He just killed a man, took his head, and torched his money, yet he feels not a shred of guilt. Instead, he feels vindicated.

For you, Haku.

He gets back to Tazuna’s house before Sakura wakes. He ignores her captain’s gaze which he can feel on his person despite the mask the man now has on his face, choosing instead to sit next to his sister and pull out his sketchbook.

He gets halfway through his sketch of the sun rising over the ocean before Sakura suddenly tenses and sits up, green eyes flickering over her surroundings before a soft smile lights up her face at the sight of his drawing.

“Morning, aneue.” Sai greets quietly, not looking up from his sketch, and Sakura reaches up to gently run her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

“Morning, Sai-chan. Taicho.” She greets, voice sleep-rough, then stretches and pins her captain with an assessing look. “Did you sleep at all, taicho?”

Her captain doesn’t reply and Sakura huffs, then takes out three ration bars from her back and gets to her feet. She drops one next to Sai, then holds the second out to her captain, who takes it with an almost inaudible sigh.

“Will you be alright now, Sai-chan?” she asks once she secures her pack and cloak back to her person. “Kakashi should be waking any time now.”

“Yes.” Sai agrees, looking up from his sketch and picking up the granola bar. “I just needed someone to guard while I slept, and Naruto and Sasuke aren’t…” he pauses, not sure how to explain his reasoning. “They’re genin.”

Sakura seems to understand, because she merely reaches down to ruffle his hair, slotting her mask over her face with her other hand. Sai gets to his feet then, stepping closer to give Sakura a quick hug.

“Thank you for coming, aneue.” He mumbles into her shoulder, quiet but genuine, and soaks in the gentle way she strokes his arm in response.

“Always.” She murmurs, then pulls away from the hug, tilting her head at her captain, who’s also gotten to his feet.

And then, without a word between them, and not so much as a breeze to betray them, they’re gone, and Sai is left alone on the roof, the head of a mob boss and a small fortune hidden in his pouch.

It happens on the fourth day after Kakashi wakes up, exactly a week since their first confrontation with Zabuza.

He’s on the bridge with Sasuke, guarding Tazuna and the handful of other workers who dare continue their task, three of Sai’s cartoon leopards milling about the bridge, appearing to – bizarrely – reassure the workers, when the fog starts to thicken.

The moment it becomes clear it’s not a natural fog, one of the leopards takes off running towards the forest, while another begins to corral the workers sans Tazuna off the bridge, into the relative safety of the forest and the town waiting beyond.

“Sasuke, guard Tazuna.” Kakashi barks at the Uchiha, ignores the sharp look Sasuke slants his way, before he nods and moves to do as told.

“Will you hand over the bridge-builder, or will we have to kill your genin to get to him?” Zabuza’s voice rings out from the fog and Kakashi tenses at the ‘we’.

If it were just Zabuza, that would’ve been dangerous enough, but he would’ve felt reassured in his ability to keep the man distracted enough to give Sasuke a fighting chance. As it is, he assumes the mysterious hunter-nin from before is Zabuza’s reinforcement, and judging by everything they don’t know about the tag-along, it’s not looking good.

“Sasuke.” Kakashi calls, knows he has the boy’s attention even without receiving any verbal confirmation. “I will not let you die.” He reassures his student, a vicious, animalistic edge to his words.

Zabuza’s laughter rings out through the mist around them.

“Haku,” he commands, voice almost bored, “prove Hatake wrong, will you?”

Kakashi senses the movement, more than he hears or sees it, and a moment later, Sai’s remaining leopard launches itself into the space between Sasuke and the rest of the bridge, catching three senbon in its side before it bursts into ink.

Kakashi tenses, then flicks through the signs for his strongest Wind jutsu, because this fog needs to be dealt with, stat.

Wind and water are his least favourite elements, but he pushes through, his chakra coils protesting at not only being put to use, but being put to use against their nature, but the jutsu he produces doesn’t reflect his inner struggle, and the mist clears slightly.

Once it clears though, it reveals Zabuza far closer than Kakashi’s comfortable with him being, and a smaller form slightly in front of him, closer to Sasuke than Kakashi is, the Kiri hunter-nin mask firmly in place.

They’re barely taller than Sasuke, and Kakashi quietly mourns another child being robbed of their childhood in favour of being a tool for power-hungry men.

And then, he doesn’t have the time nor the mental space to think of much more, because Zabuza moves, and it’s meet him or die.

Still, no more than five minutes of fighting pass before there is an interruption.

“STOP!”

The desperate call, as well as the wave of chakra the person releases, actually manages to freeze Zabuza in his tracks, a moment Kakashi capitalises on to put distance between them and shoot a quick glance to check if Sasuke is still alive.

Then, he realises that the person who’d shouted was Sai.

“Sorry I’m late, sensei.” Sai greets once he reaches Kakashi’s side, seemingly casual and completely relaxed, though his eyes are trained on Zabuza, his tanto held confidently in his hand. “Two samurai attacked the house. I had to help Naruto deal with them.”

Then, he raises his voice, digging into his pouch and pulling out two scrolls.

“Your benefactor is dead.” Sai announces, staring directly at Zabuza, and ignoring the way Kakashi startles at his side.

Then, he crouches and puts both scrolls on the ground. He pushes them, so they slowly roll towards the missing-nin, one to Zabuza, one to his apprentice, though a senbon stops the one heading for Zabuza before it can get within two metres from the man.

Sai looks like he expected that, though, because he merely rises back to his feet.

“Within these scrolls, you’ll find his head, and two bags of money.” He informs them calmly, and Zabuza’s eyes widen. “I believe just one of these bags contains significantly more than he was going to pay you for this mission.”

“Haku.” Zabuza barks, and his partner steps towards the scroll closest to him, bends down to unroll it, then sends a pulse of chakra into the bloodied paper.

Kakashi hears Sasuke gag when a severed head suddenly appears on the scroll, flaps of skin and muscle by the neck covered with dried blood, the flesh pale and splotchy, in the early stages of decomposition.

Yet it’s undeniable, even to Kakashi, who’s only going by the rough sketch Tazuna had showed them, that the head belongs to Gato.

Seemingly emboldened by the fact that at least part of what Sai had said was true, Zabuza opens the second scroll himself, revealing two black bags, which, once unzipped, reveal stacks upon stacks of bills.

Easily ten A-Ranks’ worth of pay in just one bag.

Zabuza straightens, then turns his attention back to Sai and studies Kakashi’s student with an alarming intensity.

Kakashi fears, stepping forward to put himself between his student and the missing-nin, but Sai, it seems, is either ignorant or suicidal, because he returns Zabuza’s gaze with a far calmer expression than the situation warrants.

“Are you going to keep pursuing the bridge-builder, Zabuza-san?”

Kakashi isn’t the only one who startles at the bizarrely polite honorific tagged onto the missing-nin’s name, though he doesn’t shift his attention from Zabuza’s form.

“…I have no quarrel with the bridge-builder.” Zabuza speaks at last, seeming as surprised at saying the words as Kakashi is at hearing them. Then, his eyes drop to the bags of money at his feet. “A job’s just a job, and now, I’ve got my payment.”

Sai nods, then narrows his eyes and presses. “So you will allow my team to leave, unbothered, once the bridge is constructed?”

The missing-nin, the notorious Demon of the Mist, the personification of everything fucked up about Kirigakure, just huffs a laugh at Kakashi’s genin.

“As long as your sensei extends us the same courtesy.” He replies, and his tone makes it clear he sincerely doubts that is going to happen.

Four pairs of expectant eyes now turn to Kakashi.

“You and I,” he tells Sai flatly, momentarily ignoring the two missing-nin in favour of pinning the boy with a weighted look, “are going to have words.”

Then, he turns to Zabuza, and adamantly does not think about how ridiculous the situation truly is.

“If you attack my genin, or the bridge-builders, I will kill you where you stand.” He informs the missing-nin coldly, letting the slightest amount of Killing Intent leak out.

“But,” he concedes, when Zabuza tenses, his own Intent starting to spread through the mist, making Sasuke freeze, “provided you do so peacefully, I will not stop you, or your partner, from leaving.”

Slightly wide-eyed, as if unable to believe the resolution could truly be so simple, Zabuza nods his assent.

Then, as if that’s the cue they needed, the fake hunter-nin starts walking towards Sai, their pace quick and determined, and it’s only the fact that Sai smiles at the figure and steps slightly away from Kakashi that stops Kakashi from putting a Chidori through the masked-nin’s chest.

Once Zabuza’s partner is within arm’s length of Sai, they reach out, one hand settling on Sai’s cheek, the other impatiently shoving their own mask up and off, revealing a young, androgynous face, and then they close the distance that remains between them and Sai and-

-Kakashi isn’t sure what noise he makes, but he feels an echo of his shock in Zabuza, who goes still as a statue where he stands.  

The fake hunter-nin is kissing Sai, and Sai isn’t making a single move to stop them.

More than that, when Sai does move, it’s to lift a careful hand and lay it lightly on the missing-nin’s elbow, the gesture unspeakably tender and out of place considering the situation.

He doesn’t even attempt to remove the hunter-nin from his person.

Kakashi is too stupefied to do much more than stare.

When the missing-nin finally pulls away, after what Kakashi knows realistically was no longer than five seconds but felt like a small eternity, they let their forehead thunk gently against Sai’s, closing their eyes.

(Kakashi hates himself for thinking that now would be the ideal time to kill them.)

He hears a quiet murmur, something that sounds suspiciously like ‘thank you’, but even his sharpened hearing can’t make it out properly, and the missing-nin steps away, letting their hand fall from Sai’s cheek.

Sai catches it, though, and presses what looks like a thin scroll, no longer than Kakashi’s palm and barely thicker than his thumb, into the other teen’s hand. There’s a murmured explanation, he thinks, but Sai doesn’t move his lips enough for Kakashi to be able to read them, and the roar of the ocean around them means that his voice doesn’t carry.

Then, moving slowly but deliberately, Sai reaches up to pull the missing-nin’s mask back over their face, shooting them another one of his mystifying smiles.

With another nod, the missing-nin tucks the scroll into their pack with visible care, and shunshins to Zabuza’s side.

Holding true to his word, Kakashi doesn’t stop them when the mist momentarily thickens again, and once it clears fully, Zabuza and Haku are nowhere to be seen.

Kakashi moves mechanically through the motions of being a sensei: he checks on Sasuke, congratulates him quietly on his conduct as he pulls out the few senbon the boy had been hit with – luckily none had hit anything serious – then sends the Uchiha to escort a rather stupefied-looking Tazuna off the bridge.

Then, and only then, does he turn to Sai, his earlier good humour melting away.

Kakashi knows his face is blank and cold, his gaze sharp; it’s the expression of someone who has lost everyone important and killed far more people than anyone ever bothered to keep track of.

It’s the expression that had made him terrifying to enemies and allies alike after Minato’s death, that had made the ANBU mask almost redundant. Not ROOT blankness, like what Tenzo had had at the beginning, but something else.

Something worse.

He almost feels guilty about using that facet of himself on a genin, but when he focuses fully on Sai, the boy meets his gaze easily, fearless and quietly expectant.

“Explanation.” Kakashi snaps, cold and unforgiving. “Now.”

Chapter Text

"Explanation. Now."

"Sure, sensei." Sai agrees easily, seemingly not in the least affected by Kakashi's brusqueness. "What would you like to know?"

And Kakashi, for the first time since getting his team, finds himself suspicious of the 'guileless genin' façade, because he's known jounin who weren't able to look him in the eye the rare few times he's gotten serious in the field.

"Let's start with why you thought straying from the mission objective was an acceptable thing to do." Kakashi suggests icily, biting his tongue to stop saying more than necessary.

Sai blinks at his tone, though oddly still doesn't actually look too alarmed.

"I wasn't sure when you'd wake up." he says evenly, as if it can truly be that simple. "Naruto and Sasuke didn't know if you'd ever wake up.”

Kakashi absently notes the unexpected switch to first names, and wonders at the reason behind it, though he shelves the thought for now to focus on his student’s next words.

“If Zabuza had come when you were unconscious, we wouldn't have stood a chance. Not only would we have failed the mission, but we'd have all been killed in the process. I needed an advantage."

Kakashi pauses, feeling a little thrown, and frowning at the ‘I’ at the end. For the most part, it's a rational explanation, as much as he hates to admit it, if not a usual one to hear from the mouth of a genin.

But, more importantly, Naruto and Sasuke couldn't recognise chakra exhaustion?

"We're genin." Sai points out dryly. "We're not supposed to have experienced chakra exhaustion yet. And Naruto is an Uzumaki."

Kakashi nearly jumps at the explanation, eye snapping to his student's face. He's certain he hadn't spoken out loud, yet Sai pinned down what was bothering him within a second.

"And your...interaction on the bridge?" Kakashi asks, making sure his glare doesn't ease up in the least, though Sai remains bafflingly unaffected. "Despite our 'nice' reputation, Konoha doesn't make a habit of fraternizing with the enemy."

"I met Haku when I went to look for Naruto after he didn't come back to the house for the night.” Sai relays, toneless and more like a mission report than an explanation, and Kakashi wonders, even as he wrestles his focus back to Sai's next words.

“He was dressed as a civilian and looking for herbs, but I recognised him as the fake hunter-nin. We talked, and I asked him whether Tazuna-san is Gato's target, or Zabuza's. He gave me the location of Gato's warehouse and the details of the guard shifts. I agree that I took a gamble, but I find that it was a justified one."

Kakashi...stares.

There's a lot to unpack there.

One thing stands out to him beyond the obvious, and he frowns, even as he tries desperately to absorb the rest of what Sai has said.

"When you say 'fake' hunter-nin," he begins, and Sai's expression does something odd - like he's not sure whether to roll his eyes or laugh, so instead, his face smooths out completely, and Kakashi is eerily reminded of Tenzo, "did you know he wasn't a genuine hunter-nin before I woke up?"

Sai stares at him for a moment, then he sighs, audibly exasperated, and begins rifling through the pack attached to his belt. He pulls out a book and offers it to Kakashi, eyebrow raised expectantly.

Kakashi takes it, eye falling on the title Land of Water: Culture, Customs, and Cuisine with more than a little disbelief, then raises his gaze to Sai's.

"Chapter eight, second paragraph." He instructs, and as Kakashi absently flicks through the book to humour his demand, Sai continues, "'Due to the high number of rogue-nin that have left Kirigakure no Sato since the ascension of the Yondaime Mizukage, the Village has a secret service of ANBU known as the hunter-nin. Their primary task is-!'"

"-I get it, Sai." Kakashi cuts him off, having found the page Sai had mentioned, intrigued to note that Sai had recited the paragraph nearly word-for-word.

He flicks through the text, absorbing the rest that Sai had likely been meaning to say: 'kill target on-site - excellent knowledge of anatomy required - only take the head and destroy the rest of the body' before lifting his eye back to his student, wordlessly asking for the explanation he feels is coming.

"A real hunter-nin wouldn't have taken Zabuza's whole body away. Nor would he have come alone to confront a member of the Seven." Sai explains, and Kakashi wonders whether it'd be hoping for too much that his student's only crime would prove to be that he is far too rational for a twelve-year-old.

"As for my last question," Kakashi announces after a beat, and this time, when he looks at Sai, the boy finally hesitates, the blank mask faltering, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes betraying how ill-at-ease he actually feels, and something in Kakashi relaxes when he realises that Sai's earlier lack of reaction was just bravado, "why did you think that hiding your skills from your team was in any way acceptable?"

As if his words are the trigger, the apprehension vanishes from Sai's eyes, and the blankness of his face is replaced with the usual guileless expression, all wide eyes and easy-going smile, and Sai's voice, when he speaks, is saccharine-sweet.

"Have you shared all thousand jutsu that you know with us, Kakashi-sensei?"

Kakashi takes a step back before he quite realises he's done it, reeling both at the words, and at the unexpected slam of the memory of Sakura saying almost the exact same thing half a year earlier.

But Sai is not done.

"The first thing I told you was that I don't like hypocrites, sensei." He says, and Kakashi recalls that introduction, remembers the whiplash he'd felt then, and he reckons that he should've mentally prepared himself for a similar conversation as the one they're having now the first time he heard the words 'military dictatorship seeking to subjugate all people' come out of a twelve-year-old's mouth.

Sai's saccharine expression has melted into one of genuine discontent and disappointment, and Kakashi hates the fact that this expression seems the most genuine out of everything he's seen from his student so far.

"That holds true now, too. You can't expect us to tell you everything about ourselves, when you neglected to tell Sasuke you have the Sharingan, and didn't think it important to tell us that you might suffer from chakra exhaustion upon using said Sharingan." Sai looks at him then, and Kakashi feels pinned to the spot in a way he hasn't since Minato-sensei was alive.

And Sai seems intent on driving the verbal knife he'd stabbed into Kakashi's heart further because he continues:

"The more subtle aspect of shinobi life may be lost on Naruto and Sasuke, but it's not lost on me. I know how to get information, I know how to blend in with the crowd, I listened when Iruka-sensei told us not to underestimate the usefulness of Academy techniques for information-gathering."

Kakashi realises this is the most his student has ever said in one go as Sai takes a breath to steady himself, and his mouth curls at the corner into a fierce scowl, the disappointment shining so clearly in his eyes that Kakashi would have to be an idiot to miss it.

"I can guess why you didn't want a genin team." Sai continues, and Kakashi freezes. "But you got one. You got one, and you're stuck with us until we make chunin, but we don't know anything about you. You've told us nothing about your skills, or fighting style, or preferred techniques, anything that would help us fight with you, like a team should. And I didn't think I'd need to remind you, but normal genin don't have access to Bingo Books to get their information, sensei."

Another deep breath, and Sai appears to visibly wrestle with his frustration, and when he next speaks, his voice is calmer, more measured, though still sharp.

"You've kept us busy the last three months, but you haven't taught us anything useful apart from how to start a fire or catch fish during your 'training camps'. Letting us go on a C-Rank outside the Village without so much as teaching us how to tree-walk was irresponsible of you, sensei."

At that last part, Kakashi wrenches all the emotions Sai's speech has forced to the surface back down and locks it away, his posture and expression ANBU-still, betraying nothing. His voice, when he speaks is no longer accusatory, but cold and flat and quiet, and all the more dangerous for it.

"Are you building up to a point, Sai?" he asks quietly, and Sai must be much better at emotional sensitivity than Kakashi's given him credit for, because his hand twitches towards his kunai pouch.

(Kakashi hates the thread of satisfaction that shoots through his system at the reaction.)

"Yes." Sai bites out, not rude, not quite, but assertive. Unwilling to bend or break even in the face of Kakashi's anger.

Kakashi's not sure whether his student is brave or stupid.

"You're our sensei, whether you like it or not.” Sai announces, merciless, as he does his best to stare Kakashi down. “I'm asking you to start acting like it, because I'm sick of playing mediator. I shouldn't have been the one to tell Sasuke why you have the Sharingan, just as I shouldn't have been the one to teach him and Naruto how to tree-walk. And I definitely shouldn't have been the one to saw off Gato's head in the hopes that Zabuza would be willing to listen before he killed my team!"

Despite his anger, Sai's words turn Kakashi's blood to ice, and he's too frozen to react when Sai's chakra lashes out, a cold, cloying sensation washing over him and making his shoulders sag under an invisible weight before Sai wrenches his control back and Kakashi can breathe freely again.

"So yes, sensei." Sai sighs, all the fight draining out of him in seconds, and the disappointment fades from his gaze like it had never been there. Instead, he seems almost resigned. "I deviated from the mission. I killed Gato. I fraternised with the enemy. I took matters into my own hands, and you can include all of this in your report, because I don't care if I'm punished for it, because I'd do it all again if it meant keeping Naruto and Sasuke alive."

They stand there in silence, the air around them ringing with the weight of Sai's declaration, and Kakashi wonders what the Yamanaka shrinks would say if he ever told them that a preteen genin called him out on every single one of his insecurities within three months of knowing him.

They'd probably try to recruit Sai, thinking of it.

"Oh, also." Sai speaks up after a few seconds of them just staring at each other, and he sounds tired.

Tired with the bone-deep fatigue that Kakashi's intimately familiar with, though he doesn't know why he's hearing it from Sai, and despite his anger, a twinge of worry makes itself at home in his heart.

"I recommend taking all three of us to Psych after we report back."

"Psych deals with chunin and above." Kakashi points out mechanically before his brain quite catches up with his mouth. "Genin are monitored by their jounin-sensei."

"Yes, well." Sai sighs again, and something almost cruel flashes through his eyes when he meets Kakashi's gaze. "Sasuke and Naruto might not be too comfortable with that. Neither of them reacted well to seeing you 'die' in front of them twice, as you might imagine."

"But you're fine?" Kakashi asks, mostly to hear what Sai will say, because he's a masochist like that.

And Sai doesn't drop eye contact, doesn't so much as pause, before he replies:

"I have to be." A few more seconds pass, then he inclines his head in what a generous person may have called a bow. "May I be dismissed?"

Kakashi stares at his student for a few seconds, anger and worry and curiosity warring within him in equal measure, and it speaks to Sai's favour that he waits for a verbal dismissal.

"Why didn't you graduate early?" Is what Kakashi manages at last, tired of the verbal tug-of-war with a preteen who should be able to trust and rely on him yet just admitted to doing everything but. "You're skilled and knowledgeable, and I might not know just to what extent, but it's definitely enough to be labelled a prodigy by Academy standards. Why did you wait?"

Sai seems surprised at the question for all of two seconds, before a bitter smile quirks his lips. "Do you think anyone with half a brain wants to be labelled a prodigy? After what happened to you, or to Sasuke's brother?"

The question feels like a slap to the face.

"I probably could've gone through the Academy in a year, maybe even less.” Sai allows. “What then? Graduate, move up to chunin within a year, waste a few years as a chunin before I either get field promoted or allowed to test for jounin, then die before my fifteenth birthday?” The bleak assessment of Sai’s view on the fate of prodigies rattles Kakashi more than almost anything else the boy’s said so far. Sai snorts at his own words then, the most disdainful thing Kakashi’s heard from him so far. “No thank you, sensei. I much preferred to stay a child a few years longer."

Something about the wording of the last sentence pings in Kakashi's memory, but he can't quite pin down what, exactly, sounds familiar about it.

So, he sighs.

"You're dismissed."

He blinks, and Sai's gone.

Sasuke doesn't know what to think.

He caught Naruto up on what happened on the bridge, as much as he could, anyway, given that a) he doesn't know quite what happened either, but he knows it wasn't normal, and b) Naruto's questions irritated him to the point he clammed up after getting across the absolute minimum of information.

He did agree to sitting on the veranda to wait for Sai, though, because he can agree with the dobe on the fact that they both have some questions for Sai.

When Sai finally appears from between the trees, Sasuke is immediately on-guard, and even Naruto can tell something is not quite right.

For the last three months, Sai has been...warm, is the only word Sasuke can think of to describe it. Unusually formal, a little distant, but always smiling in some way and ready to help or diffuse conflict. He was also fairly quiet, and far better than his Academy scores indicated, but Sasuke definitely preferred quiet competence to Naruto's incessant chatter and idiocy, so he didn't mind.

Still, Sai always smiled, even if his smiles were small and didn't always reach his eyes, Sasuke was familiar enough with reading expressions from It- from his childhood to know that most of Sai's smiles were genuine.

Now though, Sai's not smiling.

His face is blank, his back straight, and his footsteps don't make a single sound even though he's treading through the underbrush filled with twigs and dry leaves.

Sasuke is eerily reminded of his cousin Shisui's face that one time he caught him and his brother talking in Itachi’s bedroom, expressions similarly empty, words hushed and clipped so much so that Sasuke hadn't been able to hear what they were talking about even though he'd been standing in the doorway.

He mentally shakes the memory off, though he must move somehow, because Sai's gaze immediately snaps to where he and Naruto are sitting. Sai’s blank expression doesn't falter, though his shoulders sag slightly with what Sasuke carefully pegs as resignation, and he raises an eyebrow at Sai, gratified when his teammate reluctantly switches course and walks up to where he and Naruto are sitting.

"Uchiha-san." Sai greets, still on a last-name basis even after three months, his tone even, and his little eye-smile phony to the point even Naruto shifts uneasily next to Sasuke. "Something you wanted?"

"What did Kakashi want from you?" Sasuke asks, getting straight to the point, and Sai tilts his head.

"Answers, mainly." He replies without much fanfare, lifting a single shoulder in a half-shrug. "I believe you want the same?"

"Did you really kiss that missing-nin?!" Naruto jumps in then, eyes wide, and Sasuke resists the urge to facepalm at his idiot teammate's lack of anything resembling tact.

"Technically, he kissed me." Sai points out, lip twitching into the tiniest of smirks, but this expression is genuine, that much Sasuke can tell, and he narrows his eyes.

Could he be...?

"But yes, I did." Sai agrees, then flick his focus fully to Naruto and his gaze becomes somehow heavier. "In fact, Haku and I met when I went to the forest to look for you, Uzumaki-san."

Though his voice was quiet, and no part of his words was threatening or accusing, Naruto immediately throws up his hands in the universal gesture for surrender.

"I already said 'm sorry for not coming home!" he defends quickly, and if he could, Sasuke imagines Naruto would be sweat-dropping. "I know not to fall asleep away from base now, 'ttebayo!"

Sai's intense focus eases then, and a tiny smile takes the place of the earlier smirk, and Sasuke sighs, exasperated.

He reaches out, snatching Sai's wrist and pulling down, and though Sai instinctively resists the first few seconds - something which Sasuke makes a mental note of for later, because he could've sworn Sai's guard was down, yet he didn't so much as sway at Sasuke's rather firm yank - Sai quickly gets the message and drops to the ground, sitting in front of him and Naruto with his legs crossed and expression quietly expectant.

Sasuke studies him for a few seconds, but beyond the curious tilt to his head, Sai's countenance betrays nothing.

"You hid your skills from sensei?" Sasuke eventually asks, a non-sequitur but something that has been nagging at him since their first confrontation with Zabuza.

"Yes." Sai admits simply, unbothered.

"And all through the Academy," Sasuke pushes, thinking out loud even as the pieces slowly begin to slot together in his mind, "you were- you were aiming for average?"

"Yes."

"Why?!"

Another tiny smile quirks Sai's lips then, and he shrugs again. "To see if I could."

When it becomes clear that neither he nor Naruto are happy with his answer, Sai sighs.

"I believe that subterfuge and cunning are the marks of a shinobi just as much as you and Uzumaki-san believe in flashy ninjutsu or accuracy with throwing weapons." he explains, rolling his shoulder idly. "When I told her that I found the Academy's teaching material boring, my sister told me of an old practice introduced by the Nidaime which was used by those who wanted to get into ANBU even before Graduation. To challenge me, if you would."

"Hiding skills." Sasuke guesses, because it's the logical conclusion after what Sai has already said, as well as the little he remembers of his brother's brush with the shadow ranks.

Sai cocks his head again, the look in his eyes oddly knowing, the small smile still playing around his lips, then answers.

"Not quite." he corrects, shooting a reassuring glance at Naruto, who's looking rather wide-eyed. "Duping the instructors as to my real competence level, but not getting caught at it."

"You could've been the Rookie of the Year." Sasuke concludes flatly, not sure how he feels about the fact, but fairly sure that he's right.

Sai just regards him with another one of those infuriating smiles of his.

"Maybe." he allows, and Sasuke is proficient enough in Kakashi's 'underneath the underneath' to know that what his teammate means is yes.

"But what I told you during Kakashi's test is still true here: I wouldn't have minded going back to the Academy. I enjoyed it a lot more once I looked beyond the immediate teaching material and pointless tests." Sai points out, and Sasuke absently notes the use of Kakashi rather than sensei, a rather telling slip-up, though telling what, he's not sure yet.

"And saw what?" he presses anyway, because he's starting to feel like he's missing something, and he never thought that aiming for the Rookie of the Year position was a mistake.

Until now.

"The other Clans' traditions for their Academy rankings. How to hide my chakra from the chunin sensei. Or the fact that the outer wall of the teachers' staff room has fuinjutsu on it that makes it work like a one-way mirror, so the teachers can see the students while they're out in the yard on break. Or that genin teams are assigned less on your academic performance and more on your compatibility with the jounin-sensei."

Sasuke knows that he's just wide-eyed as Naruto is by the time Sai finishes, and he almost doesn't register the last point. Naruto does though, and his frown is audible when he asks:

"Whaddaya mean by 'compatibility' with the jounin-sensei?"

Sai looks skyward for the briefest of moments, then sighs, and when he turns back to them, he seems the slightest bit exasperated.

"Genin teams are more like apprenticeships than anything else. Sure, you have to pass the jounin's test, but the test itself also measures compatibility. Team 8's sensei had them track her through the Village, since they have a Hyuuga, an Aburame, and an Inuzuka, which means that they'll be a tracking-oriented team. Team 10, from what I heard, had to get a password of some sort from their sensei, since they're going to be an intel-gathering team."

Naruto gawks.

"How do you know this?!" he demands, and normally, Sasuke would scoff, but now.

Now he wants to ask the same.

Sai blinks at them, the most thrown he's been this whole conversation, his earlier blankness entirely gone now.

"Because I have...friends?" he offers, as if he's just as confused about Naruto's question as Naruto is at his earlier reveal. "And I know how to henge and ask the right questions? And a lot of this is obvious once you look at the team lists and have some basic knowledge of Konoha Clans?"

"Then what was our team built around?" Sasuke finds himself asking before he can bite his tongue, though Naruto makes an interested noise as well, so he reckons the dobe is too distracted to note his uncharacteristic curiosity.

"Yeah, yeah, what the teme said!" Naruto backs him up, almost jumping in place now. "Since Kiba's tracking and Team 10 is, uh, getting information? What were we?!"

Sai stares, then visibly bites back a sigh and points at Sasuke, his expression similar to what Sasuke remembers from Iruka-sensei.

"Uchiha taijutsu and Fire release. Sharingan." he says, enunciating clearly, then switches his finger to Naruto, "Trap-setting, evasion skills, and Uzumaki lineage, which means above average chakra reserves."

His finger turns to point at his own sternum. "I was in the seventies in every category in the Academy. Never higher, but consistent in every field. An all-rounder. Malleable, if you will. Easy to train me into anything that might be required, and that was without revealing my tanto and long-range ninjutsu."

Sasuke takes it all in, shoots a glance from the corner of his eye at Naruto only to find him mouthing 'evasion skills?' and bites back a sigh, then finally turns to Sai, expectant.

And Sai, for the briefest of moments, looks bitter, before his earlier blankness wipes the expression away.

"And our sensei is Hatake Kakashi, a man renowned as the Copy-ninja, rumoured to have learnt over a thousand jutsu, who created his own assassination technique as a teenager and has a flee-on-sight in three Nations."

Sai looks from Naruto, to Sasuke, and back, and concludes: "We're a combat squad."

There's a moment of silence as they take it all in, then:

"Aw, hell yeah!" Naruto cheers, jumping to his feet and pumping his fist in the air, startling some of the birds in the nearby tree, "Kiba can suck it!"

And Sasuke considers all that he's just learned, looking at his teammate in a new light. Sai stares back, perfectly blank, letting Sasuke come to his own conclusions.

After a few seconds of absorbing everything and tuning out Naruto's victory dance over getting the 'coolest designation', Sasuke realises that he wants to spar Sai. All out.

He keeps that sudden desire to himself, and instead asks the next thing that pops into his head when he considers everything he knows about his teammate.

"You think the Hokage is a dictator?" he asks, startling Naruto into silence with his unexpected question, but all Sai does is tilt his head in that annoying way of his and smile again, this one slyer than anything he’s seen from his teammate thus far.

"You think he isn't?" he shoots back, his voice steady, always so damn steady, and Sasuke realises that's all he's going to get from him on that matter.

"Uh, guys?" Naruto interrupts, looking between them oddly. "What's a dictator?"

The run back to the Village was quiet. Bat and Crow had subsided after the most perfunctory of summaries from Inosuke, and though Sakura could tell that they were far from satisfied with the explanation of their unexpected detour, they let it go.

When they get to the Village, Wolf-taicho dismisses them almost as soon as they step through the Gates, but Sakura sticks by his side all the way to ANBU HQ. She can feel his curiosity as he makes his way through the corridors of HQ with her as a silent but persistent shadow, and he eventually relents and makes a left-turn towards the training ground they used on the first day Sakura met her team.

The door barely manages to shut behind her when Wolf-taicho turns to her and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Anything you want to say, Mongoose?” he asks, voice cold and blank through the filter of the mask, though now that she’s heard his natural voice, Sakura can hear the undercurrent of concern in the words.

So she pushes her mask to the side, uncovering the right side of her face, and sends Wolf a weighted look.

“Taicho, I would appreciate if what we talked about on the mission stayed between us for now.” she tells him frankly, and he’s too good of a shinobi to react visibly, but Sakura feels the way he pulls his chakra closer to himself to hide his unconscious reaction.

“Why?” he asks simply, and Sakura wracks her brain for an answer that would satisfy him while she scans the training room, unsure if it has cameras the same way ROOT used to or if she’s safe to speak her mind.

She errs on the side of caution and considers her words carefully.

“My first team and I…On one of our missions, we purged the forest of its most diseased roots, but doing so, we found similar problems above ground. We never told anyone about it because we’d have had to cut down whole trees to fix the problem.” She says slowly, feeling a little ridiculous, but she can feel the way Inosuke’s attention sharpens even though she cannot see his face, as he reads the double-meaning to her words: ‘Yeah, we got rid of ROOT, but the situation above-ground is little better. Too many people were involved in hiding ROOT’s actions.’

“There are many trees in the forest.” He says leisurely, and Sakura relaxes a little at the realisation that he managed to follow her admittedly convoluted metaphor. ‘There are many people in the Village. You can afford to lose some.’

“I’m aware, but the one that’s the biggest problem is the strongest.” She explains, stressing ‘strongest’, and this time, she sees him tense. “Bringing it down would hurt a lot of other trees in the area.” ‘And what if one of them is the Hokage? He wouldn’t go down quietly.’

“And letting it be won’t?” he asks after a beat, and Sakura does a double-take.

Is her taicho advocating for kagecide?

“Disease spreads. It can suffocate the trees nearby.” He adds almost idly, and Sakura tries to school her expression into something less like a gaping fish when she realises that he’s concerned about her.

“They can adapt.” She manages through a dry throat, blinking back the sudden burn in her eyes. “They can survive until the opportune moment to bring the biggest tree down.”

“Mm.” her taicho just hums, considering her, then, after what feels like an age, inclines his head. “Alright.”

Sakura almost sags with relief, feeling some of the tension she’s been carrying since their conversation on the roof in Waves finally dissipate.

“But, for the record, Mongoose?” Wolf calls, pulling her out of her relieved daze, and she snaps to attention, suddenly wary.

She feels the shimmer of genjutsu around them, though she only notices it because it’s not concentrated on her and because she’s so on-edge that all her senses are on high alert, and she’s more than a little confused when she realises the focus of the illusion is Wolf’s mask.

She goes to run through ‘kai’, but Wolf moves before she can break the genjutsu, one hand rising to his mask and pulling it aside in a similar manner to what she had done earlier.

His expression beneath the mask sends a shiver down her spine: his left eye is focused on her and he doesn’t even pretend to hide the bitterness in his gaze, and what she can see of his mouth is twisted into a wry, humourless smirk.

“I know a fair bit about forestry myself. I wasn’t going to tell anyone your team’s secret.” He tells her steadily, gaze boring into her, and Sakura finds no lie or deception in his eye or words.

She nods numbly, stunned speechless and grateful beyond belief, and Inosuke’s wry smirk softens momentarily, then he pushes his mask back over his face and drops the illusion.

“If that’s all, I’ll see you in three days for team training.” He dismisses her, and Sakura nods again, slipping out of the training grounds and heading towards the showers almost on auto-pilot.

She doesn’t remember a Yamanaka Inosuke from her timeline, and she can’t help but wonder why that might be, though she’s glad to have him on her side in this.

Still, she winces when she realises that Shin is going to rip into her regardless for spilling their secret so recklessly.

Maybe she’ll just drown herself in the showers. That sounds like a much better fate than facing her irate aniki.

Two weeks after the almost-confrontation on the bridge and four weeks after they first set out, they’re finally on their way back to the Village.

Sai is exhausted, mentally and physically, but from the way he can feel Kakashi’s eye on him every time he edges out to the front of their group, he knows he’s unlikely be able to properly relax until he puts his sensei’s unease to rest, and that requires his siblings present.

Or simply Sakura, since from what he’s heard about his sensei’s interactions with Shin, having his aniki there might just aggravate the situation.

He’s grateful that Naruto had an unexpected stroke of genius when Kakashi promised that they’d stay to guard the bridge builders until they completed the bridge and volunteered his clones to the task of carrying around the materials, accelerating the building process by at least another two weeks.

Sai pretended not to see the way the other bridge builders kept staring at him when they thought he wasn’t aware, as if not sure whether they should be scared of him or grateful that he had rid them of Gato. He supposed even in a place as impoverished as Waves, the notion of preteens murdering in cold blood didn’t sit well.

Hearing Tazuna christen the newly-completed bridge the Bridge of Hope did ease the knot of tension in his gut some, however.

Still, the scrutiny he’d been under in Wave left a bitter taste in his mouth, and that wasn’t helped in the least by Sasuke’s sudden increased interest in his person.

It’s this interest that Sai reckons is behind his teammate emerging from their tent in the middle of the night, a good hour before he’s due for his guard shift.

Somewhat predictably, Sasuke comes to stand at the root of the tree next to the one Sai has claimed as his guard perch, though Sai doesn’t spare him so much as a glance, keeping his gaze on the sleeping forest around them instead, scanning the trees periodically.

With only the barest sounds of shuffling and a quiet grunt, Sasuke scales the tree he’d stopped by, settling on a branch only marginally higher than Sai’s, close enough to be accidentally companionable but not so close as to be deemed friendly, and Sai stifles a sigh even as his lip twitches at his teammate’s determination to maintain the ‘not-friends’ façade.

“Trouble sleeping, Uchiha-san?” Sai asks quietly after a few minutes, knowing that if he doesn’t make Sasuke spill what’s on his mind soon, the boy will keep him there even after Sai’s shift ends, and he’d definitely rather sleep than endure his teammate’s tsundere-ness.

“Why are you so formal?” Sasuke shoots back, blunt as ever, and Sai closes his eyes briefly, wishing for patience. “We’re the same age.”

“Actually, I’m four months older than you and a full year older than Uzumaki-san.” Sai corrects, because he knows exactly when his birthday is, despite what he maintains in front of his siblings.

He’d found his orphanage file in the pile of files they’d stolen from ROOT but kept from the Hokage as insurance. Even now, he can picture in his mind’s eye the blurry little photo of himself around four-years-old, smiling uninhibitedly with a crayon in hand, and the hastily scribbled birthdate November 25^th.

Sasuke twitches at his words, causing the branch he’s perching on to creak tellingly, and Sai smiles tiredly.

“Then you definitely shouldn’t be so formal.” Sasuke scoffs after a beat, though his voice lacks the usual bite that Sai would expect from the words. “It’s weird.”

“What do you want me to say, Uchiha-san?” Sai asks flatly, not bothering to keep his tiredness from his voice, closing his eyes and tilting his face to the sky when he feels the first drops of rain begin to fall. “It’s not like you were bursting with desire to make friends when this team was created.”

“Friends would only get in the way of my goal.” Sasuke brushes him off, though he sounds oddly startled, as if he wasn’t expecting Sai to call him out on his hypocrisy.

Safely behind his closed lids, Sai rolls his eyes. He’s done with keeping his mouth shut when his team behaves like idiots. The first thing out of his mouth had been that he hates hypocrites. They should’ve damn well listened.

“And what goal is that?” he pushes idly, though he knows Sasuke is listening. “Hunting down your brother?”

Sasuke’s hitched breath is as telling of his shock as the sudden spike in his chakra, and Sai bites back a mean snort.

“What do you know?” Sasuke asks sharply, and Sai can feel his eyes on him, though he doesn’t bother reacting outwardly.

“There are few other men you could be interested in finding, considering your history.” He explains leisurely. “If my brother suddenly murdered my sister, I’d have some questions too.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Sasuke snarls, chakra crackling again before he tries to reign it in, and Sai can feel his glare, and his own temper flares momentarily.

“A word of advice, Uchiha-san.” He offers, and he’s aware his voice is far colder than it had been mere moments earlier. “Don’t assume you’re the only who’s had a difficult life. And don’t try to figure someone out if you’re not ready for them to do the same to you.”

To highlight his words, he lets some of the intent he usually keeps under an iron-fisted control leak out, letting the oppressive hopelessness that is his version of K.I permeate the air between him and Sasuke and feeling more than seeing the Uchiha freeze.

He’s never been one for talking circles around people like Shin, or for utilizing people’s perception of him and weaponizing it like Sakura, but he has his own talents, and quiet observation and pinpointing weaknesses with unerring accuracy is one of them.

Sasuke just happens to wear his insecurities on his sleeve, and Sai is nothing if not opportunistic.

He reigns his intent back after a few seconds, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the shudder in the breath Sasuke takes immediately after.

“Also, if I wanted to track down somebody who’d been a jounin when he’d been my age, I’d surround myself with the best and brightest that I could find.” He points out into the silence broken only by Sasuke’s heaving breaths. “In which case, friends would not only help with your goal, but be almost imperative to achieving it.”

They lapse into silence after that, and Sai mentally calculates that he’s only got about ten minutes or so left of his guard shift, though he doubts Sasuke is keeping track. He could go, probably, though he has no idea if Kakashi’s awake or not, or whether the jounin even cares if they skip out on a few minutes.

“You’re not a genin.”

Sai startles a little, surprised enough by the words as to open his eyes, staring at the tree next to his and finding Sasuke already looking back at him.

“Excuse me?” he asks carefully, ill-at-ease by Sasuke’s unexpected focus.

“I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re too much like Shi- like someone I knew to be a genin.” Sasuke elaborates, and that in itself is interesting because Sasuke never says more than he absolutely has to.

Another minute of silence passes, and then Sasuke adds, voice softer than Sai has ever heard it: “You knew my brother? Or just of him?”

Sai sighs, considering his teammate and feeling an odd stirring of guilt and pity in his stomach. He wonders what he’d have been like if Shin had done what Itachi had – if he’d killed Sakura and Shino and disappeared into the dead of night. Would he have walled off the rest of the world like Sasuke? Would he have gone looking for answers? Or would he have just…given up?

“I met him, once.” He says after a beat, apparently surprising Sasuke because his teammate’s chakra jumps.

“He dislocated my sister’s shoulder.” He adds with a frown, remembering that spar.

He’s not expecting for Sasuke to suddenly snort, nor for the snort to turn into hastily smothered almost-hysterical laughter.

“You’re fucking weird, Sai.” Sasuke announces out of nowhere, and Sai sees a glint of white teeth in the pale light of moonlight, meaning that Sasuke is…smiling? “I want to fight you.”

Sai blinks.

His brain turns over their conversation, desperately trying to figure out what part of it could have resulted in Sasuke coming to such a decision, and fails. He’d expected anger or insults or at the very least for the Uchiha to shut down and refuse to speak to him again, not…camaraderie?

“Sasuke…” he starts hesitantly, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with a not-antagonistic Sasuke all of a sudden. He also wonders what Sakura would do in this situation.

Laugh herself to tears, probably.

“…are we friends?” is what he settles on, knowing that, if anything would, the notion of ‘friendly-relations’ should be enough to bring Sasuke back to normal.

And, true to form –

“Hn. Don’t push it.”

Kakashi is glad that his mask hides 90% of his expression by the time he’s finally done giving the oral report in the mission room, his bratlings uncharacteristically quiet at his side. He knows he’s going to get called into the Hokage’s office as soon as his written report is processed, particularly since the predicted ‘easy C-Rank’ had spiralled into a B-Rank the moment they encountered the Demon Brothers, and now might or might not get pushed up to an A-Rank.

Not to mention that one of his students had to deviate from the mission and have his first kill at the same time because Kakashi had inadvertently put him in that position.

He almost groans out loud when Naruto demands celebratory ramen as soon as they’re free from the mission office hubbub, not comforted in the slightest when Sasuke shoots down ramen almost immediately and demands Yakiniku, which Sai surprisingly supports.

Yakiniku means Akimichi, and Akimichi means Yamanaka and Nara, and Kakashi knows that if Shikaku hears wind of this mission, half the Nara Clan will know within an hour, and that will mean that whatever Yamanaka gets assigned as his shrink this time will know.

Fuck, Sai wanted him to take them to Psych, too. Now he can’t even avoid the shrinks.

Fucking peachy.

Still, he just about survives the dinner with his genin, shovelling down some barbecue when Naruto and Sasuke get distracted by Asuma’s team, and Sai seems fascinated by some ink on his arm.

Wait. Rewind.

Ink on his arm?

But when Kakashi looks back to his student, Sai’s arm is clear of any ink, and he has neither an inkstone nor a brush in hand.

Eventually, he dismisses his students, telling them to meet him at their usual training grounds in three days. He reluctantly resigns himself to footing the bill this time, because he’s already dreading what Naruto and Sasuke will have to say to the shrinks about his leadership, he doesn’t need ‘lets us starve’ added to the list as well.

He can skimp on his ANBU team. The genin, he might actually have to feed for the next few weeks.

He’s not expecting Sai to stay at the table even when Naruto and Sasuke take their leave, the former grumbling about needing a week to sleep off the crick in his neck from sleeping in a tent while Sasuke just scoffs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

And he’s definitely not expecting Yugao and Genma to slip into the seats his students had barely vacated, a grin he’s come to be wary of on Genma’s face.

He has no idea what’s going on when Sakura slips onto the bench next to Sai.

(She looks a little worse for wear, a pale diamond-shaped ridged scar on her cheek, though its colour makes it seem years old instead of the month max that it has been since he last saw the girl, leading him to believe that it won’t stay on Sakura’s face for long.)

He’s officially lost when Sakura wraps an arm around Sai’s shoulders and pulls him into her side.

“Aneue.” Sai breathes, melting into his kouhai’s embrace. “You got my message.”

Kakashi freezes.

Aneue.

Aneue.

Big sister.

“Oh, man.” Genma chortles, the senbon in his mouth clacking against his teeth. “What I wouldn’t give for a camera right now.”

Kakashi barely hears him, gaze trained on the newly-named siblings.

Sai’s eyes have slipped shut, lines of exhaustion Kakashi hadn’t even realised were there until they were gone smoothing out, but Sakura is staring back at him steadily, her expression open and the look in her eyes the slightest bit guilty.

“Our otouto’s the artist.”

“We’ve put everything on the line to give him a normal childhood, or as normal as you can get being an ex-ROOT agent with the remnants of a failed conditioning program rattling around your brain.”

“Perhaps, if all goes well, by the time he graduates, you won’t even be able to tell he was once one of Shimura’s most ‘loyal’.”

Umino’s words to Shin: “Your brother’s graduation is tomorrow, now that your sister can’t make it, you better be there if you know what’s good for you.”

Sakura’s unexpected concern when his kids had landed themselves in the hospital.

Sakura’s apt summary of Sai’s role in the team despite never interacting with his students: “The third one seems to be keeping them together, but you can’t expect him to do that forever.”

Sai’s unexpected maturity. The bizarre formality towards his age-mates.

Sai being able to sneak up on him. Sai being able to match Sasuke for speed and throwing accuracy despite only marginally above-average Academy scores. Sai knowing Hosenka.

Sai barely blinking at having the Demon of the Mist’s KI pointed directly at him. Sai’s lack of reaction at having his ‘first kill’ on his first mission outside the Village.  

Sai having a tanto, of all things.

God, he’s an idiot.

“I think you broke him.” He hears Yugao’s voice, though it sounds like he’s underwater.

His eye is burning, watering in a way that tells him he hasn’t blinked all though his revelation, and when he snaps back to awareness, Sakura is still looking at him, and even Sai has opened his eyes, peering at him warily.

“So, even after you knew I was his sensei, you still didn’t trust me enough to…?” he asks at last, his voice sounding far away even to his ears, and for some reason, Sakura’s eyes soften, even as a wry smile plays on her lips.

“It wasn’t a matter of trust, taicho.” She tells him patiently, her tone apologetic but firm. “I knew he’d be in good hands with you as his sensei.”

“Then why…?” He can’t bring himself to actually finish the question, his usual masochistic tendencies unexpectedly eclipsed by his sense of self-preservation.

Sakura sighs, her arm still around Sai’s shoulders, and cards her fingers through Sai’s hair comfortingly, prompting Sai’s eyes to slip shut again.

“I knew you didn’t want a genin team.” She says simply, Genma and Yugao watching their exchange with a mix of amusement and anxiety. “And I didn’t want Sai to be stuck with the role of assistant-sensei once you realised that he’s basically chunin-level and could do most of the teaching for you.”

"You're our sensei, whether you like it or not. I'm asking you to start acting like it, because I'm sick of playing mediator.”

Kakashi winces, Sai’s accusations ringing through his head, brought to the forefront of his mind by Sakura’s words.

“I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark, but I’m not sorry I did it.” Sakura adds, the odd not-apology shaking Kakashi out of the worst of his stupor. “But I told you before that I will always put my siblings first, taicho.”

“My goal is for my family to be happy."

“You’re all disgustingly co-dependent.” Is what he finally manages to get out, prompting a poorly-hidden snort from Genma and a startled cough from Yugao. “And terrifyingly competent.”

It seems Sakura really does know him, because she doesn’t react to his comment beyond a small smile, merely waits him out until he finally sighs.

“I’m not happy about this.” He admits, waving a hand at her and Sai and Genma and Yugao who had clearly known about the Sai Situation and kept it from him. “But I can understand why you did it.”

As if those words were what she’d been waiting for, Sakura breaks out into the most genuine smile he’s seen from her so far, and next thing he knows, she’s on his side of the table and has thrown her arms around his shoulders in a hug-ambush.

Before he can quell the instinct that has him reaching for his kunai or reciprocate the hug, she’s already pulling away and returning to her seat next to Sai, raising a hand to call over the waiter who’d been rather conspicuously absent over the course of their conversation.

Slowly, Yugao and Genma steer the five of them onto more light-hearted topics, drawing Sai into the conversation little by little, something Kakashi can tell doesn’t go unnoticed by Sakura given how much she softens when Sai smiles as Yugao compliments his fashion sense and asks where he found pants with that many pockets.

Eventually, even Kakashi is pulled into the discussion that has taken over the table, and when the food arrives, it’s almost like it was the few times they’d gone for dinners as a team before the Mokuton Reveal.

He wonders idly, his masochistic streak returning with a vengeance, whether the atmosphere will still be as easy-going once everyone inevitably learns of the shitstorm that had been their last mission.

Sometimes, Kakashi hates being right.

Umino had been in the Hokage’s office when he’d been called in to expand on his report two days later, as well as goddamn Yamanaka Inoichi.

The Hokage had been…far from amused.

Inoichi even less so at the news that he’d left a genin feeling like he had to take matters into his own hands.

Umino looked like he was going to personally gut Kakashi then hug him by his entrails from the top of the Hokage Mountain, but whether that was because he’d managed to make his students lose faith in him on their first mission outside the Village, or because he’d all-but left them alone for three days when an A-Rank missing-nin could’ve come at any time, that was anyone’s guess.

After leaving the office, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his perceived failure as a sensei, Kakashi does what he does best.

He hides.

In plain sight.

In the Jounin HQ.

He isn’t hiding from other jounin, or from their judgement – he’s more than grown used to it.

He’s hiding from his students.

(And, maybe, from Sakura.)

Those who were up-to-date with the gossip circles of Konohagakure, or knew who to ask, would've quickly realised that the girl that could sometimes be found chatting with Yugao or comparing poisons with Genma was, in fact, the second resident child genius of Team Ro. 

Anko happens to be both. 

She's decent enough friends with Yugao to have been able to ask early on, and apparently tolerable enough for Genma that when she said 'what the fuck's the deal with the kid on your team?' he'd just laughed. 

From Yugao, she got a winding tale of the kid's apparent competence and adaptability and 'maturity beyond her age'. 

From Genma, she got a wicked grin and a most unexpected explanation of; "She's the first person I've ever encountered whose default reaction to Kakashi's bullshit is humour."

The kid doesn't seem particularly amused now. 

Anko notices her as soon as she steps into the Jounin HQ, and she takes in the shockingly pink hair in a messy undercut, loose black pants tucked into thick combat boots and a burgundy zip-up hoodie thrown over a familiar black turtleneck.

She considers the blank expression and utter stillness of the girl’s body as she scans the room, and studies the assessing light in green eyes and something in her jolts. 

There's something familiar to the girl, and at the same time, her posture screams child-soldier and she doesn't seem bothered enough to hide it.

The girl seems to find who she's looking for and her eyes narrow just the slightest bit, then she's moving, weaving through the crowd with a single-minded focus until she stops a few couches to Anko's left, where Hatake is lounging bonelessly, his porn book held in front of his face in a clearer 'fuck off' than if he'd yelled it from the rooftops. 

The girl steps close enough until she can stretch out a hand and push Hatake's book down with a finger, meeting his eye with a non-expression that still manages to convey a deep disappointment that's almost enough to make Anko wince in sympathy. 

"Your team's waiting for you." She tells Hatake quietly, and the area immediately around the duo falls conspicuously silent.

Jounin are incorrigible gossips, after all.

"They have been for the past few hours, if I'm not mistaken. You were meant to take them to Psych today." she adds, and Kakashi tilts his head. 

"Have they really?" He asks idly, then meaningfully raises his book to his chin. "That's too bad. Guess we’ll have to go tomorrow."

"You can’t deny them a visit to Psych.” she seems to remind Hatake, and it's not quite sharp yet, but her eyes have grown colder, the corners of her mouth curling down. "You don’t have to go with them, but they need your rank to get in.”

"Just henge into me and give them D-Ranks for the day, and I’ll take them to the shrinks tomorrow.” Kakashi waves her off, and raises his book so it once again covers his face. 

Something in the girl's expression shifts – or rather, any expression that was left disappears – and Anko might not know the exact relationship the two have, but she can tell Hatake went too far. 

Quicker than she would've expected, the girl's leg snaps up in a vicious kick, knocking the book from Hatake's hand and into the air, and she grabs a kunai and launches it with enough force that it hits the book and pins the now-ruined novel to the wall at the back of the room. 

A hush falls around the HQ, and Kakashi slowly raises his eye to meet the icy gaze of his subordinate, and the temperature around the two drops by ten degrees. 

"I already have." she tells him coldly, and it seems to be the answer Hatake isn't expecting, because his eye widens minutely. "And the first thing you teach them once you decide to be a sensei again should be how to spot henges because none of them noticed, and I don't think I need to tell you how much of a security risk that is, Kakashi."

Ouch. Anko thinks, and spares a second to be impressed by the nigh-masterful delivery – an insult, a threat, and a warning all in one. 

"What happened to 'taicho'?" Hatake asks instead, eyebrow rising, though his expression is also colder than before. "Not feeling so respectful anymore?"

"You had my respect as my captain." the girl retorts, and if anyone had any doubts about how such a disparate pair knows each other, Anko can see they have been swiftly dispelled.

There are quite a few gaping faces and wide eyes as well, once some of the jounin in the room make the connection.

"But you have to earn that respect as a jounin-sensei.”

Then she sighs, and Anko can see her wrestle the frustration back and lock it down, until all that's left is the same blank mask she wore as she walked in. 

"Go to your genin, Kakashi." she says quietly, a hint of fatigue under the monotone, and something in her non-expression shifts. "Or I'm going to ask the Hokage to put you on forced leave for dereliction of duty. Your students could do with some in-Village time."

Anko sucks in a breath despite herself. 

The kid either has serious balls or is straight up suicidal. Judging by the rumours floating around T&I that she survived ROOT and rose from Shimura's ashes like a macabre phoenix, Anko's willing to bet good money on the latter. 

That finally seems to snap Hatake out of his attitude and he grabs the girl's wrist as she moves to leave, and Anko can both feel and smell the spike of his chakra, and the stench of ozone it leaves in the air.

She knows, rationally, that Hatake wouldn't Raikiri the kid, but she also suspects that this is likely a first for him – few have dared call him out for his behaviour since the Yondaime's death, so she doesn't really know what to expect at all. 

"Is that a threat?" he asks quietly, dangerously, yet the girl is unperturbed. If anything, there's something almost...resigned, in her expression. 

"No." she answers equally quietly, then twists viper-quick and brings her foot up in a sharp side-kick, and Hatake is forced to let go of her wrist or risk broken ribs. “I know you better than that.”

Then, she steps away, out of Hatake’s reach.

Her gaze lifts suddenly, flitting to the back of the room momentarily, something like wry amusement flashing through her eyes and her lip twitches, before it's wiped away and she looks down again, shooting Hatake one last meaningful look.

Then she leaves the HQ, just like that. 

Anko watches Hatake for a while after that, not scared off like most others when the fuck-off aura he's been exuding intensifies. His eyes stare unseeingly into the door to the HQ where his kouhai had disappeared, then flicker to the clock on the wall, before he draws his book back over his face and pretends to nap.

Yet, fifteen minutes to the second after the girl leaves, he stands and heads out the door as well, porn stuffed into his vest pocket and the usual lazy, lackadaisical aura back in place.

Anko grins and makes a mental note to ask Yugao to introduce her to the kid. She has a feeling they will get along swimmingly. 

(She glances behind her once Hatake leaves, to the back of the room where the kid had looked before she'd disappeared, wondering who could've made her smile after the dressing down she'd given Hatake, but only finds Yamanaka Inosuke buried behind Intel reports, the towers of paperwork a comparably clear fuck-off to Hatake’s porn book for anyone who might've even thought of approaching.

Anko scoffs.

Yeah, nah, she must've imagined the whole thing. She doesn't know of anyone whose default reaction to that particular Yamanaka is a smile.)

Chapter Text

Genma is generally feeling good about life.

He's back to the normal jounin roster, which means that he's got more free time now than he had as an ANBU operative.

He actually gets to spend time with his friends now, and he managed to meet up with his old genin team twice in the last month, which is twice more than he has in the year before that.

Izumo and Kotetsu are still in one piece, which is always a plus, and they seem to have taken Iruka under their wing (and their last group spar showed Genma just what that has done for the already unexpectedly terrifying teacher).

He got to see Kakashi's reaction to the revelation that his innocent-genin-student was actually an ex-ROOT, chunin-level revolutionary (and that memory is easily in his Top 5 fondest memories when it comes to Kakashi).

So yeah. Life's good.

"I still can't believe you've got your own labs! I thought I'd have to blackmail someone in R&D to let me use the public labs for the more volatile poisons!" Sakura chirps from a few meters away, diligently slicing away at her bloodroot stems, then chucking the sliced roots into the pot nearby to simmer away.

It’s the first time since their team was temporarily dissolved that she’s been in the Village for longer than three days at a time, and Genma can see some of the mission-tension finally easing from her shoulders. He winces in sympathy, remembering how difficult it had been for him to part with that sense of constant alertness that came with ANBU life. And sure, some might not think of poison-brewing as particularly therapeutic, but Sakura’s not fully out of that mindset yet – he reckons just sitting and chatting over food like Yugao had clearly wanted to suggest would’ve only made her tenser.

So he’d offered her use of her labs, when she’d off-handedly commented that she’d ran out of that batch of senbon tipped with lidocaine he’d given her after their team spar before everything went to shit. And now, well. Here they are.

He'd had to activate the old fuinjutsu around the stove to filter the air when Sakura let slip that she wasn't actually immune to any of the poisons she worked with, merely relied on medical-ninjutsu to fix up any accidental nicks or mishandlings.

He'd been comparably surprised to finding out that she wasn't immune to the poisons she worked with to how surprised she'd been upon learning that he was.

"Yeah, well. My family was never particularly big, but we had a poisons specialist in every generation since joining the Village." he explains, getting back to her remark and smiling fondly at the thought of his family. "The labs were actually a gift from the Sandaime when my sister made jounin."

"Mhm." Sakura hums, tongue between her teeth as she distils a part of another concoction she's working on. "I don't know of a single official poisons specialists in Konoha apart from you. I suppose having a full Clan of them, no matter how small, was too great an opportunity to let it pass by."

And Genma sends a quick prayer of thanks to any gods who may be listening that despite her apparent exhaustion and having grown up in ROOT, Sakura actually has more tact than most people her age or with her background, and doesn't press the matter of his sister.

After all, 'MIA presumed KIA' is no more satisfying to hear than it is to say.

"Probably." Genma agrees idly, scraping at the bottom of his pot to check the consistency of the powder he's working on.

"Why the sudden interest in making your own stuff, though?" he asks absently, picking up his petri dish with the botulinum cultures.

Because as nice and nostalgic as cooking up poisons with someone is making him feel, he reckons Sakura could do better with focusing on her existing fighting style, rather than adding even more elements.

"Poisons are cool." Sakura grins, her rarely-heard childish side shining through in her relaxation and startling a laugh out of Genma with the suddenness of its appearance. It’s easy to forget Sakura is actually a child with how she acts most times. The reminders of her actual age are few and far between, so he knows that he and Yugao treasure them whenever they do show up.

"And I ran out of batrachotoxin a few months ago now, and the mass-produced stuff is either too weak or too expensive, and I don't want to keep relying on your handouts, no matter how useful they may be." She shoots him another quick grin at that last part, letting him know she's not actually cross at the handouts, but rather at needing them in the first place.

Genma huffs, fondly exasperated. With a roll of her eyes, Sakura adds:

"Besides, Shin was rather clear in his opinion that my aim is crap, so until I have the free time to consistently work on my marksmanship, I need to compensate for my decreased effectiveness somehow."

Genma frowns at the explanation, more at the fact that Sakura has noticed the danger of back to back missions than anything else, but Sakura must somehow sense his frown and misinterpret it as confusion, because she offers a half-shrug though she doesn't turn away from her beaker.

"I haven't stayed in the Village for longer than a few days at a time in the last three months. Wolf-taicho says we're too good at what we do. "

The petri dish slips out of his hand and shatters when it hits the ground.

Genma doesn't have it in him to react to the noise, even as Sakura jumps, turning to him with wide eyes and raised hands, scanning for whatever startled him so.

No, he's too busy being horrified.

"Wolf-taicho?!" he demands, sharper than he means to, but his brain isn't computing what his ears just heard. How had he missed this?! "Your new captain is Wolf?"

"Yes...?" Sakura replies, hesitant, as if unsure why he's so freaked out all of a sudden, and he comes to the rather daunting realisation that she might actually not know the reasons behind Wolf's infamy.

"Ask to transfer." Genma orders, not a hint of hesitation in his words. "God, what was Bear thinking-?"

Sakura though, now that the earlier worry has been placated, scowls at him.

"Why should I?" She demands, putting down her beaker and turning to fully face him, crossing her arms over her chest as she frowns at him. "Yeah, my teammates walk on eggshells around him, and even Bear-sama said that this team isn't 'known for long assignments' or whatever, but nobody has said why, and senpai hasn't done anything wrong."

Genma feels his blood drain from his face at the title 'senpai' and wonders when Sakura had the time to get personally acquainted with the Nightmare Walker of all people.

"I mean it, Sakura." he repeats, worry and anger warring within him in equal measure. "And you're saying that his own teammates acting weird towards him wasn't enough to clue you in to the fact that something's wrong? His ANBU teammates, at that?"

Sakura's earlier frown has shifted into a full-on scowl, and Genma thinks it's only thanks to their relationship and the fact that Sakura is somewhat fond of him that she isn't outright insulting him yet, or worse, already gone.

"I thought he was ROOT at first, if you must know." She tells him evenly, and as she speaks, the damn ROOT blankness steals over her face, wiping away all expression barring a raised eyebrow. "And don't pretend like ANBU are fantastic judges of character. I know what the majority of them think of Kakashi, but you've never told me to be careful of him."

"Kakashi's different." Slips out before Genma can bite it back, and he winces when he sees Sakura's other eyebrow fly up to join its twin, the look in her eyes challenging. He huffs, finally bending down to gather as many of the broken pieces of his petri dish as he can

without cutting himself.

"People process trauma differently. Kakashi's safer in a way, because he's only self-destructive-"

"'Only'?!" Sakura parrots incredulously, and Genma winces again, realising belatedly how that came out but not willing to lose his train of thought to rephrase.

"The difference between Kakashi and your new captain is that Inosuke has a habit of taking people down with him." He stresses, and he sees the moment Sakura's momentary ire is replaced with curiosity and he jumps on the opportunity.

"And while the Yamanaka are valued for their work in Psych and Intel and their usefulness with POWs, most people are still wary of someone who can read their mind like a book, and shinobi aren't exempt from that subtle prejudice."

He tries to be patient in his explanation, but when he straightens and sees Sakura open her mouth to undoubtedly refute him, he raises the hand not holding broken glass to cut her off.

"Inosuke took the already unpopular Yamanaka jutsu and added genjutsu to the mix. He earned the moniker Nightmare Walker before he disappeared into ANBU because he tended to use his Clan jutsu to find out his opponent's worst fear or nightmare, then incorporate it into a genjutsu so layered and convoluted most people lost their minds or got cut down before they managed to break out of it."

Sakura quiets during his explanation, her eyes wide and seemingly far-away, and Genma absently wonders what she's thinking about, before she zones back in, and her frown returns full-force.

"So what?" She asks, and Genma despairs the fact that she's apparently attached herself to her new captain in less than four months. "He's good at what he does. So? We're trained to exploit any weaknesses available."

Genma sighs, turning to throw away the broken glass so Sakura doesn't see his face.

"Exploiting physical weakness is automatic because they're visible, but mental weaknesses are different."

To his surprise, Sakura laughs.

"Is that it?" She asks lightly, and though her words are snide, she seems genuinely amused, the earlier ROOT blankness gone, though suddenly, Genma isn’t sure if that’s a good sign

.

"Genma, I was ROOT. My own brother can ferret out weaknesses and insecurities by observation alone, and his words can cut deeper than any knife I've ever been on the receiving end of. Your warning, while touching, is lost on your audience. And while it sheds some light on why senpai might not be the most popular, it doesn't explain why I specifically should go so far as to ask to transfer teams."

More than a little exasperated, Genma yanks off his bandana and runs a hand through his hair.

"Sakura, he lost his entire-!" but, much like he did to her minutes earlier, Sakura raises a hand and cuts him off.

"-if that's the problem, I don't want to hear it." she announces stubbornly, placing the hand she'd held up to stop him on her hip. "Especially not from you. Why do you think I haven't pressed Kakashi to tell me more about himself? About his past? That stuff's personal, Genma. If senpai decides to tell me, then I'll listen, but I want it to be his decision."

Genma is simultaneously endeared and unbelievably frustrated. "It's not his decision if it affects his conduct-!"

"-but it doesn't!" Sakura finally snaps, apparently reaching the end of her patience too. "If anything, it affects the conduct of everybody but him. I've been on his team for over three months and I haven't had a single problem with him!"

Genma stares at the girl for a few more seconds, then sighs, all the fight draining out of him.

"I hope he deserves the loyalty you're showing him." he finally concedes, knowing Sakura well enough to realise she isn't going to budge on the subject.

Then, as he's about to grab a dustpan to clean up the glass he wasn't able to gather, Sakura's suddenly in his space, deceptively strong arms sneaking around his waist and squeezing, the hug tight and warm and grateful.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Gen." she mumbles into his shirt and Genma smiles fondly, letting his hand drop onto Sakura's hair and ruffling gently.

"Anytime, kid." he replies and means it, and he knows she knows it.

With a final squeeze, Sakura lets go, and with a swift Shunshin is back at her workstation, stirring worriedly at the bloodroot still bubbling away.

Genma sighs, finally cleaning up the glass, and allows the topic to drop for the time being.

Still, just because he can't tell Sakura the full reason for his concern doesn't mean that he can't push somebody else into solving the problem for him.

"Don't freak out." Genma greets by way of hello, sidling up to Kakashi where he's watching on the bridge as his brats tackle water walking.

"What?" Kakashi asks absently, eyes trained on his students, the way Sakura's brother seems to be coaching Minato's son through controlling his chakra while the Uchiha pretends not to listen, but how none of them so much as think to turn to Kakashi for advice.

Genma hides a wince. Apparently Inoichi wasn't exaggerating in his claim that their last mission really did a number on the genin's trust in Kakashi as a sensei.

"I have some info you might find interesting, but you have to promise to not freak out first." Genma repeats, and Kakashi huffs, but he looks tired, fatigue and worry and self-loathing writ into his posture even if not immediately obvious on his face.

"I am not generally known to 'freak out', Genma." Kakashi shoots back, and Genma can tell that he's still not entirely forgiven for keeping Sai's real identity a secret.

"Sakura's been assigned to Wolf's team." Genma drops the news without fanfare, because if Kakashi doesn't want to beat around the bush, then he's not going to coddle him.

Kakashi stills.

"I caught Bat in HQ and apparently, the reason for the assignment was the rising demand for infiltration missions. Crow is well-suited to it, and with the addition of Sakura, they can get into places most squads could only dream of. It's why she's been out of the Village so often." He adds, monitoring Kakashi for his reaction.

So far, all he's seeing is shock, but that soon transforms into frustration.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Kakashi demands, sharper than he'd usually be, but Genma's willing to let it go this time. "I've been benched."

"Get her out." Genma says simply, and he can tell he has Kakashi's attention when the frustrated expression turns contemplative. "Go to the Hokage, say that in the wake of your last mission, you want an assistant-sensei. Say that Sakura is familiar with you and one of your students, so she might help to bridge the chasm that's formed between you and your genin recently."

Kakashi winces at his wording, but Genma can tell that his words strike home, because he's not immediately refuted.

"You think the Hokage would agree?" Kakashi asks, the frown audible in his voice, and Genma shrugs.

"It's worth a try." he replies, then adds, "And if anyone could hope to petition for an assistant sensei and succeed, it's you."

"You've thought about this." Kakashi accuses, turning the full weight of his focus on Genma. "Why?"

"Wolf doesn't have a good track record for being put in charge of kids." he explains, which feels like the understatement of the century considering the man's 0% survival record for anyone teen-and-under placed in his care. "And as much as it serves as a convenient explanation, I genuinely think Sakura could help you with your team's situation. I don't like to see you struggling either, Kakashi."

Kakashi appears a little taken aback by his honesty, then, if he's reading the mask's shadows correctly, he smiles slightly.

"Thanks." he clasps Genma's elbow momentarily, then creates a Shadow Clone in the next second, positioning it perfectly between his real body and his students. "I'll see what I can do."

Then, the real Kakashi disappears, leaving his clone on the bridge to watch over his students.

Genma catches a flicker of dark eyes, Sakura's brother apparently being the only one to catch the replacement, but he doesn't say anything, merely focusing back on his attempt to create water tendrils while simultaneously coaching his Uchiha teammate through the difference in density between the surface of water and that of trees.

He thinks he catches a hint of a smile on the boy's lips though, and wonders how much of their conversation he overheard.

Even Sakura could admit that she got used to her new team rather quickly, all things considered.

She hadn't expect to feel anything beyond professional respect towards her captain and casual camaraderie towards her teammates when she joined, her heart firmly belonging to Team Ro. She’d thought that prediction a nigh certainty after it became apparent that her new team would be nothing like her previous one. 

Given that, even she had been a little surprised at her vehemence on Inosuke's behalf in the face of Genma's warnings.

Yet, after their conversation on the roof in Wave, how could she have remained detached?

Beyond that, she'd been cheered when the initial distance and distrust she’d seen from her teammates towards Wolf had waned slightly. She thought they were getting better after she consistently refused to shy away from their captain, and though the camaraderie was still lacking, there was no obvious distance between Bat and Crow when it came to either her or Wolf, and the outward hostility had certainly all-but ceased.

Which is why she almost doesn't believe what she sees, at first.

Two days after her conversation with Genma, her team’s sent out again, the unexpected reprieve from missions barely lasting a week.

And, naturally, they get ambushed, because of course they do, it's just her luck at this point.

By Kumo-nin this time, missing-nin at that, anywhere between chunin and jounin if she has to guess by chakra.

It's four against nine, an unusually large group for missing-nin, especially with all of them being from the same Village, but Sakura's too busy dodging lightning to puzzle out why the size of their group rubs her the wrong way.

She's the only one who chose to stay up in the outcroppings of jagged rock, Wolf, Bat, and Crow having jumped to solid ground the moment they sprang the ambush and the enemy revealed themselves. Wolf has a deep gash in his thigh, not having been able to dodge the fuma shuriken completely when he’d moved to push Crow out of the way of a blade that would've likely decapitated her.

Only one of the enemies is fully down so far, the others either still on their feet and fighting, or recovering from a hit.

Still, she can tell that Wolf is more preoccupied with guarding Crow than he is with gaining a quick advantage, and Sakura can understand why: Crow is a Hyuuga, after all, and Kumo doesn't have a great track record when it comes to the Hyuuga Clan.

Not that their current enemies know Crow's identity, hopefully, but the caution is still warranted.

Wolf is being unusually vicious as well, from what she manages to glimpse of her teammates' fights in the brief milliseconds she gets to recover from her own enemies' attacks, swinging his tanto with wild abandon and throwing senbon left and right with his other hand, a stark contrast to his usual quiet calm and swift illusions, and Sakura can't help but wonder whether there's a reason behind the change in approach.

Still, she tries to stay focused on her own opponents, cheered by the fact that Crow is steadily overwhelming her opponent with taijutsu, though Sakura can see that she has to concentrate to avoid using her Clan's style.

Wolf takes on any of the enemies who try to capitalise on Crow's exposed back, and Bat is flitting between Wolf and their female teammate and trying to catch the Kumo-nin with his ninjutsu. Sakura remembers Bat's quiet admission that he used to be a bodyguard before his assignment to Team 4, and that background is evident now as he skilfully keeps their enemies from his teammates' backs.

Sakura's own opponents had proven more difficult than she'd expected, and the wetness quickly seeping into her shirt on her left side is proof of that.

They were barely phased by her Shunshin, and given that they'd been the ones to orchestrate the ambush, she never had the element of surprise she usually relied upon to begin with. That, combined with the fact that she's still hesitant to use Mokuton in the field, both because she doesn't know Bat and Crow personally yet, and because it's Kumo, and with the limitation of the terrain and her opponents' age and height advantage over her, made for rather unfavourable odds.

It turns out that A and B hadn’t been outliers, and Kumo-nin really are built like the mountains they live in.

Not ideal.

Sakura curls around a rock-plated fist from the opponent behind her and barely dodges the curved, glistening kunai that comes from the one in front and would've likely taken out her liver, turning so she earns a gash across her upper arm instead. It’s deeper than she would’ve liked but it’s not life-threatening, She’d long-since lost her ANBU cloak when one of her opponents had grabbed it trying to snag her and she'd simply released the clasps. Now, she ducks under her front attacker’s still-extended arm and flashes into his personal space, pressing a blue-glowing hand against his chest, stopping his heart with a pulse of her chakra.

He falls, and as he does, she chances a glance back at the ground, where Wolf is guarding Crow and Bat is guarding Wolf. She turns just in time to see Crow finish off another one of their enemies, while Wolf holds off two more, the tanto wielding arm keeping one Kumo-nin at bay, while he holds the other one off with a forearm block, Bat at his back.

Sakura sees a third man approach, sword crackling with lightning in hand, intent on her taicho's unprotected back, another Kumo-nin at his heels, and Bat-

-Bat steps aside.

He steps aside and meets the second shinobi, but the first one slips right past him, and Sakura watches with her heart in her throat as the Kumo-nin rams his crackling sword straight through her taicho's kidney.

Her shout of alarm gets stuck in her throat because her second, still-alive opponent has not been idle, and she doesn't react in time when he moves.

She doesn’t manage to dodge the spike of earth that pierces through her left foot, shattering the delicate metatarsals and shredding the tendons. She staggers, tears springing to her eyes, then decides to fuck subtlety. She pumps chakra into her fist, Tsunade-style, and a quick, six-foot Shunshin later she's in her opponent's guard, bringing her fist forward and towards his gut.

He raises an arm to block it like he'd blocked all her previous blows, the kunai he suddenly has in his hand catching on her wrist painfully, jarring the bone, but it's not enough. In his surprise at her reckless charge he doesn’t reinforce his arm with the rock barrier that had protected his skin from all her other hits and Sakura's punch meets his forearm and shatters it with a single touch, then keeps going. The Kumo-nin is sent off his feet and off the branch, plummeting towards the ground, his organs ruptured and spine shattered even before his back meets the dirt beneath them.

Panic and pain rise within her, her foot and wrist and side screaming in agony yet her heart screaming to check on her captain. Healing herself takes a backburner to making sure Inosuke lives, so Sakura bites her hand and pumps a generous amount of chakra into the summoning technique.

Ryū and Yū materialise on her branch, and it takes her summons one look at her posture to quell whatever smartass remark Ryū likely had on the tip of his tongue, their bodies shifting into battle-readiness without her having to utter a single word.

She sways momentarily before she firms her stance, and as one, they converge on the ground, the twin summons tag-teaming the remaining missing-nin, jaws snapping and sharp teeth tearing delicate skin to shreds, while Sakura tries to keep her weight on her uninjured foot.

She flashes to Inosuke's side, vision briefly fading at the motion, and focuses on the shinobi still standing over her captain, sword raised.

She doesn't hesitate - chakra extends from the fingers of her uninjured hand, sharpening them to claws, and she digs her hand, fingers-first, under the Kumo-nin's left shoulder blade. Blood squelches between her fingers, the third and fourth rib shatter beneath her touch, but she doesn't stop her motion until her fingers close around the man's heart, at which point she wrenches her hand back and rips it out.

The whole process lasts less than two seconds and she drops the heart almost immediately, and there is a single, disembodied moment where the man who'd been about to decapitate her captain stares at where his own heart is laying on the ground, before he drops to the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut.

She ignores the retching she hears in the background and falls onto her knees next to her fallen captain.

Her vision swims and her heart stutters at her sudden movement, but she ignores that too and spreads her numb fingers out, blood-stained hands glowing green as they ghost over his body, trusting her summons to have her back.

(Unlike Bat, a voice whispers in her mind, but she shelves the thought for the moment, unable to afford any distraction, her head already feeling like it's full of cotton.)

She's not comforted by what she finds: beyond the wrecked kidney and surrounding electrocution, there's poison in her taicho's system, both old and new. The origin point of the new poison is the gash in the leg he got at the very start of the fight, and it's going to spread to the rest of his body if she doesn't do something.

She reaches for her pack but her fingers are unexpectedly uncooperative, her hands suddenly shaking too much for her to be able to unclasp the pouch, and she becomes aware of a soft but persistent pressure against her shoulder.

"-ime, hime, hime!" Ryū - or maybe Yū? - whines desperately, and it's his muzzle that she feels poking against her back. "Your arm!" 

It takes her a few seconds to process his words, but she finally manages to mechanically jerk her head to look at her uncovered arm where she distantly remembers getting cut by one of her earlier opponents.

The skin around the gash is an angry red and glistening with something green-brown and sickly-smelling.

Poison.

Her brain feels muddled, but the realisation that she's also been poisoned spurs her into motion. Blood-stained fingers fumble for her pack until Ryū gets the hint and rips it off her belt, spilling the contents on the ground, but instead of annoyance, Sakura feels like she could cry with relief.

(The still-sober part of her brain contemplates the irony of having to deal with a poisoning yet again, but she pushes that thought away too.)

"-w can I help?"

Ryū nudges her temple, and Sakura blinks, raising her gaze from her shaking hands and the contents of her pack to Crow's mask, the kunoichi crouching beside her, her neck and shoulder smeared with blood and her arm bent at an odd angle, but all-in-all still decidedly in one piece.

"Water." Sakura croaks, her tongue feeling wooden in her mouth, her throat sore, her head pounding. She’s got enough conscious thought to realise that she should be cycling her chakra faster to try and burn the poison out, but she can’t do that and extract whatever’s in Inosuke at the same time.

So she doesn’t.

"Pour water on my hands."

She holds out her hands, attempting to gather chakra, and Crow does as asked. It takes Sakura three tries before she manages to keep the water within the bubble, her control shot to hell with the poison coursing through her body, but she turns to Wolf, only belatedly realising that she hadn't made the second incision needed for the extraction.

Tears spring to her eyes and she makes a frustrated noise, but she keeps the water in her hands even as her control threatens to wobble.

"Cut him." Yū's voice comes from somewhere to her right. "On the hip. Hime needs an exit wound."

Crow is two seconds slower to follow this command than she'd been to pour water on Sakura's hands, and in any other situation, Sakura would be gratified at the fact that the kunoichi hesitates to harm their captain. But eventually she does it, steady hand grabbing a kunai and slashing it determinedly across Inosuke's right hip.

"The glass tube. On the ground." Yū adds as Sakura leans over Wolf's prone form, trying to pull her poison-addled brain into focus. "She'll need it for the poison."

As she feels Crow move to fish for a test tube, Sakura sees large paws settle on Inosuke's shoulders, holding him down.

With a desperate, shuddering breath, she pushes the chakra water into his poisoned wound.

His knee jerks up and catches her ribs, jarring her bleeding side and knocking the breath out of her, making her bite on a sob, but she keeps her control on her chakra with the last scraps of her concentration, her hand shaking where it hovers over the exit wound.

With the water she pulls out of the cut on his hip come two globs of green-brown fluid, and Sakura hopes that the pre-Tsunade medics will be able to make an antidote with just that amount, because her control shatters the moment she manages to make sure that all of the poison she extracts ends up in Crow's test tube.

Crow corks it and moves to hand it over, but Sakura reaches for Yū's muzzle, ends up grabbing his cheek with uncoordinated fingers, and pulls him to Crow's hand instead.

Her summon gets the hint and grabs the corked vial delicately from her teammate's hand, and Sakura's semi-delirious brain muses that it might be a good idea to fashion her summons some sort of bag or scroll-pouch.

"When you're home safe, hime." Ryū mumbles from her left, pawing at her uninjured hip, and Sakura realises she must've spoken out loud.

"Take it to the hospital." She orders Yū, her voice sounding foreign even to her ears, and she's sure she's slurring. "Find Shin and Genma."

Yū blinks in affirmation, then turns and shoots off, in the direction of what Sakura hopes is Konoha.

"Ryū-chan," she mumbles, her vision greying and her eyelids growing heavy, but she can't sleep yet, she has to- has to-! "bite my hand for me?"

Ryū whines, louder than all the times before, but does come closer and gently clamps his teeth over her palm, sharp incisors doing their job.

Sakura barely feels it.

"Thank you." she slurs, then, with a last, ditch effort and the hope that the abundance of blood will make up for lack of hand-signs, pours all her chakra into the ground and prays for Eki-sama.

She hears Crow curse though it sounds distant, even though she knows the kunoichi is right beside her, and the shadow that falls over her lets her know that her desperate play worked.

"Disposal, or transport?" Eki asks, none of the usual cheer in the massive summon's voice, and Sakura gladly lets Ryū answer for her.

She's absently aware of time passing, but she snaps awake when teeth clasp around the collar of her shirt and throw her onto the tiger's wide shoulders, her shin colliding painfully with her taicho's still knee.

Then, not sparing a thought to Crow or Bat (stepping aside, stepping aside, stepping aside-!), she lets the stiff fingers of one hand wrap in Eki's fur, while the other clutches desperately at Inosuke's pant leg.

Lulled by the motion of Eki's shoulders under her and with the poison dulling her senses, Sakura allows her eyes to close, Shin's words from their spar a few months ago echoing in her mind in the few seconds before she finally loses consciousness.

You won't always have the element of surprise on your side. What will you do then?

Kakashi doesn't sense any chakra approach, yet in one moment he's sitting on Minato-sensei's hair spike by himself, and in the next, Shin is six feet away from him, perched casually on a nearby spike and staring out at the Village beneath them.

"Is this the part where you tell me you'll kill me if I let anything happen to your brother?" Kakashi asks idly after a few minutes, his nonchalance sounding fake even to his ears.

He's dreading this conversation, but he hates the silence even more, because with people like Shin, silence is more dangerous than a shouting match.

To his surprise, Shin snorts.

"Nah." he waves him off, though he doesn't so much as glance at Kakashi. "Sai is more than capable of killing you himself."

Kakashi huffs a laugh, amused despite himself, then he almost jumps, because Shin is suddenly next to him, and he didn't even see him move.

"I'm here for you, Hatake, bizarre as that might sound." Shin adds, and he seems comparably surprised at the admission as Kakashi feels. "My siblings were probably harsher than you deserved because they both know you, and they respect you, and because of that, they have certain expectations of you."

Kakashi is openly staring at the teen now, and when Shin feels him looking and meets his gaze, he smirks.

"I never pretended to respect you, and I don't claim to know you." he tells Kakashi frankly, offering a half-shrug. "No expectations here."

The admission, despite how blunt and plain rude it is, lifts a weight off of Kakashi's shoulders. No judgement. No disappointment.

"So." Shin drawls after a beat, and the look he sends Kakashi is almost amused. "You're not at the Memorial Stone and you're not reading your porn, but you're avoiding people and lounging on your old sensei's head. You're sending out some conflicting signals, Hatake."

And Kakashi can't bite back the snort at the words, and he doesn't try to. Not just because it's a scarily apt summary of his usual coping mechanisms for someone who claims they don't know him, but also because it's the closest to 'are you alright?' anyone has asked him since his team came back from Wave a week prior, and it comes from Sakura's bastard of a brother.

"My C-Rank turned into a clusterfuck, my genin don't trust me, Psych is on my ass, and everyone who questioned the Sandaime's decision to put me in charge of kids has been gloating whenever I'm in the room." He lists off, tone saccharine-sweet, and he finds that he doesn't care enough to censor his feelings in front of Shin, though he's not particularly keen on looking into why. "So I've no idea what could possibly be 'confusing' about whatever signals I'm sending."

"It happens, they'll come around, fuck 'em, and fuck 'em." is Shin's assessment, and the wording is enough to make Kakashi pause and stare at the teen incredulously.

"What?" Shin demands when he notices Kakashi's raised eyebrow. "You told me yourself your easy missions go to shit. So, nothing new. The kids will come around in a few days because they're kids, especially if you admit to fucking up and answer some of their questions. Sai too, before you ask, and don't look at me like that, he's used to dealing with obstinate assholes, trust me. He'll move past this, just tell him straight-up how you're going to treat him, 'cause that's his biggest hang-up now that you know who he is. And as for Psych and everyone else, what does it matter what they think? Ergo, fuck them."

"Even if they have a point?" Kakashi pushes, masochistic streak making a reappearance in the face of his uncertainty at how to deal with Shin's unexpected pragmatism.

"Hatake, I'm not going to coddle you." Shin scoffs, scowling at him, but his expression still lacks the judgement Kakashi has been seeing on the faces of some of his comrades in the last week.

"Yes, you fucked up, but what did you expect? You can't give a traumatised, orphan child-genius a bunch of children and expect him to know what to do. You reading porn in public should've been enough of a clue that you don't exactly have people-skills. The fact that people expected you to be fine as a jounin-sensei is more of a reflection on them than on you."

Every sentence that comes out of Shin's mouth carries some sort of an insult to his character or his competence, yet to Kakashi's ears, it sounds like absolution. 

"Was there a point to you coming here, or did you just want to prove that you're not entirely a stone-cold bastard?" He asks instead of voicing that thought, and Shin’s scoff morphs into a wry smile.

"I wanted to thank you, actually." He announces, and Kakashi nearly loses his hold on his chakra and freefalls off the Hokage Monument.

Judging by Shin’s quiet snort, the lapse of composure didn’t go unnoticed.

"Sai told me you didn't hesitate to act when you found out who Sakura's captain is." Shin explains, oddly gracious in that he doesn’t comment on Kakashi’s reaction.

"You know about her captain?" Kakashi checks, frowning behind his mask.

Sure, it’s not exactly top-secret, especially if you’re his age or older, but he hadn’t expected Shin to know.

According to Genma, Sakura has no clue, and she regularly works with the man.

"Not many things happen in this Village that I don't know about." Shin replies, and Kakashi blinks at the frank admission. “And while I don’t necessarily think he’s a danger, I am more than in favour of getting my sister out of ANBU.”

There’s too much to unpack there. Moving swiftly on!

“Why seek me out?” He asks instead, asking the question that’s poked at him since Shin announced his presence. “I didn’t exactly get the impression that you like me in our last few interactions.”

Shin snorts, but it lacks the usual derision and disdain.

“Because the mission going wrong was out of your control, but what you do next is your decision.” And then, Shin pins him with a look that makes Kakashi feel like the teen sees right through him.

“I understand not wanting attachments, trust me. Particularly young, fragile ones with tragic backstories. But Hatake, you’re infamous. You’re in every Nation’s Bingo Book – you literally have a target on your back wherever you go. And your kids will get tangled up in your shit whether you want them or not. By not teaching them to the best of your ability, you’re denying them even the possibility of a fighting chance against whoever and whatever might come after you.”

When Kakashi just stares at him, Shin sighs and gets to his feet.

“So either pass them off on someone else or get your act together.” he concludes. “But start by talking to them. If nothing else, they deserve an explanation.”

There’s a beat, and then Kakashi mutters a quiet: “Thanks, Shin.”

And then, as if the words are a trigger, all expression gets wiped from Shin’s face and Kakashi’s left staring at a blank mask and flinty eyes.

"This conversation never happened." Shin warns, voice an inflectionless monotone, and within the next second, he’s gone.

Kakashi sighs.

(In the back of his mind, he briefly recalls Hayate’s ‘is he yours?’ and finds himself reluctantly amused. He and Shin certainly have the same reactions to the full spectrum of human emotion, but the kid’s still a brat.)

Unfortunately, it seems fate is not too keen on letting them avoid each other; not three hours later, as he’s strolling to the Memorial Stone for a much-overdue chat, he catches sight of a familiar tiger sneaking through the shadows at breakneck pace, what looks like Genma hurrying behind it.

Kakashi changes direction and sprints to catch up before he even realises what he’s doing.

“What’s happened?” he demands as he catches up to Genma, and he’s thrown by the clear concern shining in the tokujo’s eyes.  

“Kid’s in the hospital.” Genma holds up a hand with a corked test-tube of something grim looking. “Kumo poison.”

Kakashi doesn’t deign that with a response, and he’s not surprised when they suddenly turn towards one of the more remote training grounds and find it already occupied by Shin and Sai.

Shin zeroes in on them immediately, before they even properly make it past the treeline, and his gaze flickers between the summon, Genma and Kakashi, and the vial in Genma’s hand.

An ugly curse falls from his lips and he whirls on the summon with a demanding glare.

“Poison.” The tiger pants, and Sai moves for the first time since he froze upon their arrival, kneeling by the summon and uncorking his water canteen, pouring some into the cradle of his other hand, and the tiger drops its head and drinks like a housecat.

“Hime shouldn’t be far behind.” The summon tells Shin once it’s done drinking, rubbing its head against Sai’s shoulder in what Kakashi interprets as gratitude. “But Ryū won’t be able to carry them, and if you want to keep our contract a secret, you should head for the gates.”

Shin’s gone before anyone can say anything more.

“I’ll-” Genma begins, frazzled, glancing between the summon and Kakashi’s student, “I’ll get to work on the antidote.”

And then he, too, is gone, and Kakashi’s left in the field with Sai and Sakura’s summon.

“Thank you, Yū-san.” Sai murmurs, raising a hand to pet the tiger gently, nimble fingers scratching at the summon’s thick neck. “You can rest now.”

Yū rubs his face against Sai’s forearm one more time, then unsummons himself in a burst of smoke, and now Kakashi has no choice but to interact with his student.

“Do you-” he starts, drawing Sai’s gaze onto himself, and he has to swallow to get the words out, “do you want to go wait in the hospital?”

Sai blinks, and Kakashi’s sure he’s not imagining the surprise he reads in the boy’s eyes.

“You don’t like the hospital though, sensei.” He points out, and Kakashi wonders whether he really is that pathetically easy to read recently, or whether it’s something about this family in particular that makes all of his many masks redundant.

He almost pulls out his book, more out of habit than any need for distraction or entertainment, but he keeps his hands still and forces himself to hold Sai’s gaze.

“I don’t.” he agrees, because pretending otherwise would be an insult, and he’s had both Genma and Shin tell him to be honest, and he can take the hint sometimes. “But I am an adult, and your teacher. I can manage.”

Sai studies him for a second longer, then he smiles, small and genuine, and rises to his feet.

“I’d like that.” he agrees, walking over to Kakashi and falling into step with him as they move to head for the hospital. “Thank you, sensei.”

Kakashi twitches.

He hadn’t realised none of his students had called him ‘sensei’ since they got back from Wave until the word spills from Sai’s lips, and he can’t help but feel like he passed some kind of test.

(He wonders if this is forgiveness.)

“But really,” Sai continues once they’re out in the main street leading to the hospital, eyes on the road, his lips barely moving and feet making no sound as he walks, and Kakashi once again can’t believe he hadn’t picked up on the fact that Sai was never a normal genin himself, “you don’t have to sit and wait with me. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Kakashi bites his cheek to avoid saying ‘I’m already uncomfortable’ and opts for his eye-crinkle instead. “I’ll manage, Sai. Don’t worry.”

Sai doesn’t turn to look at him, doesn’t say anything else, but his smile grows slightly wider all the same.

Sakura wakes up slowly, and as consciousness returns, so does the pounding headache when she makes the mistake of opening her eyes.

“Ow.” She groans, her throat feeling like sandpaper and her voice sounding like she’d chain-smoked a pack of cigarettes, “Light’s too damn bright.”

There’s a quiet shuffle, then a ‘click’, and even with her eyes closed, she can tell the offensive light has been switched off.

“Thanks.” She mumbles, then tries opening her eyes again.

The room is indeed darker now, the sky outside hinting at dusk or early evening. She squints at her unexpected saviour, and finds him already looking, and she knows that face- “Senpai?!”

Inosuke nods at her, pale eyes contrasted by dark circles visible even in the low light of the room, his scar stark against his pallid face.

Sakura breathes a sigh of relief.

“You’re alive. Good.” She mutters, falling back against her pillows, suddenly realising just how exhausted she feels. “I feel like shit.”

Inosuke snorts at her observation and she cracks an eye open – when had she closed them? – and finds him smiling wryly.

“You can thank the poison for that.” he tells her dryly, and he sounds exhausted as well as looks it. “There’s water on your bedside table, if you want.”

Sakura waves an uncoordinated hand and tries to make her fingers do a ‘thumbs-up’ in thanks, then tries to take stock of just how badly that mission had messed her up.

Beyond the general sluggishness, cotton-brain, and heavy limbs she attributes to the aftereffects of the poison, there’s a cast on her right foot, a thick bandage on her wrist, and she can feel the tightness of stitches in her left side as well, but beyond that, she can’t feel anything that could be debilitating in the long-term.

“Three cheers for contact poisons. Gas woulda sucked.” She mumbles at the ceiling, then wiggles to a more sat-up position so she can reach for her glass of water, because her voice sounds like death warmed over and her mouth tastes like something died in it.

“Charming.” Inosuke intones flatly, and Sakura glances at him over the rim of her glass, noting his raised eyebrow and quirked lip. For a man who got poisoned to kingdom come and whose kidney got skewered like a kebab and deep-fried on top of that, he doesn’t actually look too bad.

She’s almost jealous.

Inosuke laughs suddenly, and that’s when Sakura forces her brain to actually pay attention because she doesn’t think she’s done anything to warrant that reaction.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff, kid.” Her captain informs her, amusement colouring his voice, “You’ve been thinking out loud.”

Sakura blinks, thoughts whirring.

“Oh.” Shit. “They’ve got me on morphine? Really? That’s a bit of an overkill, isn’t it?”

Inosuke shoots her a look that’s drier than the deserts in the Land of Wind.

“Out of the 26 bones in your foot, you shattered thirteen and broke or fractured nine others.” He relays flatly. “You wouldn’t stop screaming when they were trying to heal it.”

Sakura…doesn’t remember that.

But then, something Inosuke said makes her tired brain snap to attention, and she sends her captain an alarmed look.

“How long have I been asleep?” she demands, because if she was sleeping off a poisoning, chakra exhaustion and had morphine in her system, that should be at least-!

“Eight days.”

Sakura closes her eyes at the news, dreading Shin’s lecture that’s undoubtedly coming next time she sees him. He had warned her, after all, and she was sure that her explanation of ‘back-to-back missions’ won’t be enough of a justification for why she hadn’t listened.

She wrenches her mind away from that line of thought because there’s nothing she can do about it now, and turns her gaze back to her captain.

“How’re you feeling, senpai?” she asks quietly, not sure if she’s breaking some unaddressed taboo by asking.

“Like I got poisoned to kingdom come and skewered like a kebab.” He retorts, and it takes her a moment to realise he’s echoing her earlier musings on his appearance, but once she realises, she can’t help her quiet laugh.

“That’s fair enough.”

They lapse into silence after that, though Sakura knows neither of them are likely to be getting any sleep any time soon; she’s still too keyed-up from the memory of their mission (steppingaway-!) while Inosuke, judging by the bags under his eyes, hasn’t had a restful sleep in days.

After a few minutes, a thought occurs to her, and she’s speaking before her brain quite catches up with her mouth.

“With the Mind-Walk, do you just see the surface thoughts? And can your target steer what you see, or are they more like observers?”

Inosuke eyes her sharply, and Sakura realises that she probably should’ve explained her thought process a little more.

Flushing, she hastens to do just that: “I remembered you saying that you’d have liked to see ta- Hound’s face after he found out about my brother’s identity.” She explains, cursing her earlier blunder. “Depending on your answer to my previous two questions, I might be able to show you what he’d looked like.”

It’s Inosuke’s turn to blink at her, an odd expression momentarily flashing across his face before he finally speaks.

“Both. People trained to detect mind-manipulation, or with well-constructed mental spaces are often aware of a Yamanaka’s presence in their mind. Unlike the Mind Transfer technique, there is no possession involved, so the target’s mind is still their own. In that respect, if you make yourself think only about one thing, like a mantra, the average Mind-Walk user would struggle to see past that thought without forcing the mental landscape.”

Sakura frowns as she mulls that over. “So, if I think hard about what I want to show you, you’ll only be able to see that particular memory?” at his hesitant nod, she smiles. “Alright. Let’s do this!”

When Inosuke merely stares at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, her smile slowly melts away. “…Wait, have the nurses cleared you to use chakra?”

Two weeks after first receiving the report from the ANBU gate patrol about half of Team Four approaching the Village walls on the back of an enormous tiger summon, Bear is sitting at his desk in HQ, going through the most recent paperwork submitted by Mouse's squad on the situation on the border of Sound and Hot Water.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and he flares his chakra twice in the ANBU-standard 'come in', and feels his eyebrow climb up his forehead behind his mask when Mongoose slips into the room, crutches first, her mask over her face and hood up.

Someone must've fetched the kid a spare standard uniform or she 'borrowed' from Laundry, because the loose navy long-sleeve and trousers she's sporting are a good two sizes to big for her and definitely not up to ANBU regulations. At least it's a step up from a hospital gown. 

He bites back a snort when he notes she's barefoot, though. 

"Bear-sama, hello." she greets quietly, hobbling closer to his desk without hesitation, the motion a bit comical seeing as she’s on crutches in ANBU HQ.

In the ANBU Commander's office, even.

"Mongoose." he returns dryly, wondering what could've prompted the visit. Shouldn’t the kid still be at the hospital? "Something you need?"

"I want to talk to you about Team Four's latest mission." she explains, stopping about a metre from his desk and inclining her head respectfully.

"If you want a reassignment sheet, you need to hunt down Spider." Bear informs her, sighing inwardly and mentally resigning himself to suffering through Spider's gloating for the next few days.

But Mongoose doesn't move, and he can hear the frown in her voice even through her mask when she next speaks.

"I don't want to be reassigned. I'm happy on my team." she almost snaps, and Bear puts down the report he'd been reading and gives her his full attention. “Sir.” She adds belatedly to soften the earlier sharp tone, but Bear pays it no heed.

(Privately, he wonders whether anyone before Mongoose could ever have claimed to have been happy on Wolf's team.)

"Then what brings you here?" he asks evenly, because the kid hasn't ever caused any problems despite her age, and she's long exceeded the time he thought she'd last on Team 4, and, from her words, doesn't seem eager to leave, so he's not sure what she could want.

He hears the deep, grounding breath Mongoose takes before she speaks, but he's still not prepared for the words that come out.

"I would like to request that agent Bat be temporarily suspended from the team and undergo a full psychological evaluation." she announces, the words polite and clearly rehearsed, but her spine is ramrod-straight despite the crutches and her chakra so tightly-coiled within her that he can't glean anything from it.

He takes a second to fully absorb the words as he leans back in his chair.

"That's quite a big request." he observes, keeping his tone as bland as he can, but Mongoose doesn't let herself be baited. "Your reasoning?"

"I believe he intentionally allowed an opponent to slip past his guard so that our team leader would come to harm."

Bear straightens immediately, pinning Mongoose with a sharp look which she must feel even through the mask, but she doesn't backtrack.

"I realise the gravity of the accusation." she assures before he can speak, but her voice doesn't waver. "And I'd be willing to allow a member of the Yamanaka Clan access to my memory of the mission to corroborate my claim, if needed."

Bear blinks behind his mask, mind whirring. “Your team would be Village-bound until Bat is either cleared or removed permanently.”

“I’m aware. But taicho and I still have some recovering to do, and after that, well. Fox has been on rotation between Infiltration and Seduction – she could just as easily fill in for Bat if our team’s specialty was needed in the field.”

“You’ve thought about this.” he observes, and she inclines her head even though it wasn’t a question.

“I witnessed the moment Bat stepped away, Commander.” She tells him evenly, though her chakra escapes her tight hold for a split-second and he can feel her anger at the fact before it’s hastily smothered once more. “It’s been difficult to think of much else, to be perfectly honest.”

“I’ll take your request to Psych.” He tells her after a minute of contemplative silence. “Don’t be surprised if you get a summon from them in the next few days.”

“Thank you.”

“In the meantime, I believe the Hokage wanted to see you as soon as you were awake and moving about.”

“The Hokage?” she asks, frown audible even through her mask, and the wariness in her voice is…alarming. “Why?”

“Can’t tell you that.” he sighs, then slips his hand under his mask and rubs his fingers over his eyes, the genjutsu over his face assuring Mongoose doesn’t glimpse so much as his chin. “But, Mongoose? Whatever happens, you’re still ANBU. You’re one of my best infiltrators; I’m not giving you up until you ask to be benched.”

He can feel the thoughts whirring through her mind at his words, his assurance likely raising more questions than answers, but either the kid’s smart enough not to press or has already drawn her own conclusions.

“…Noted. Thanks, Commander.”

And so saying, she hobbles out.

Standing in front of the Hokage feels surreal, particularly considering the words that come out of the man’s mouth.

“A request has come in for your skills outside of the shadows of ANBU.” Sarutobi tells her evenly, and maybe the man has gotten better as an actor, or maybe he’s stopped perceiving her as a threat, but his words appear honest, and she can’t detect a single trap in the set-up. “I’ve decided to grant it.”

Nara Shikaku’s presence by the window is also helping her unease, somewhat.

When it becomes clear they’re waiting for her reaction, she makes sure her tone is even, though she allows some of her surprise to leak into her voice.

“Outside?” she echoes, unsure what the man is getting at. “With all due respect, Hokage-sama,” which is none at all, “I don’t exist outside of the shadows.”

Sarutobi sighs, though it was his decision that resulted in her spending the last three years in ANBU, so she’s not sure why he’s pretending remorse at the fact, but the way Shikaku’s mouth curls down in displeasure is definitely genuine, and Sakura feels…somewhat touched.

“I am aware.” The Hokage agrees, then gestures to the papers spread across his desk, and Sakura only now notices Kakashi’s familiar scrawl on some of them. “And I believe we have found a way to rectify that. Your field commanders’ reports all indicate that you’re a highly capable shinobi, and your recent mission has proven that you possess the leadership qualities we were looking for.”

He pauses, eyeing her for a second, gaze flickering from her mask to her hood and hospital pyjamas.

“Take off your mask, please.”

Sakura freezes.

While the wording is different, the order is the same as the first time she had been in this office in this life, when she’d taken the gamble to expose Danzo and secure Sai and Shin’s safety in exchange for her own.

With jerky movements, she lifts a hand to her face and pushes her mask up, to the top of her head, pushing her hood off at the same time.

Shikaku moves then, pulling out a familiar vest from behind his back and handing it to the Hokage, who also rises to his feet.

“Sakura of the Leaf,” Sarutobi intones, and Sakura can do little more than stare as he extends the chunin vest towards her, “you are hereby awarded the rank of chunin of Konohagakure and assigned under Hatake Kakashi, as the assistant sensei of Team Seven.”

Chapter Text

Shikaku watches the girl watch Sarutobi, and he wonders at the blank expression on her face. It's not even that she's hiding her expression, the way that even the shinobi who don’t regularly wear masks learn to do after enough time in the field.

There's just...nothing there. Her face could’ve well been carved out of stone.

'I don't exist outside of the shadows'

That had rattled him.

More so than the actual wording, it was the tone which she had used that had hit him. Like she was stating a simple fact of life. Like it was normal that a child who can't be much older than Shikamaru didn't have a life outside of Konoha's Black-Ops.

He watches as she finally shifts one of her crutches into her other hand and extends her free hand to take the chunin jacket and hitai-ate from Sarutobi. The state she’s in had also struck him when she’d walked in; half her leg is in a cast, and the parts of her body that are visible are riddled with bruises and scars, both old and new. An alarming amount for someone so young. But worst of all is how casual she seems about her injuries. How little she appears to notice them, beyond the occasional glare at the crutches, as if they’re simply a nuisance.

He wonders what Inoichi would say.

To distract himself, he watches as she slips the headband into the pocket of her vest and brings her new jacket close to her body, though she doesn’t move to put it on, staring at the garment in her grasp. Shikaku doubts she’s actually seeing it.  

He tries not to think about why she looks like Sarutobi just signed the order for her execution.

"May I request something, Hokage-sama?" she asks quietly, her eyes still trained on the flak jacket in her hand.

Sarutobi appears surprised for the briefest of seconds, then nods indulgently, and the girl takes a quiet breath and raises her eyes, her gaze steely, her back ramrod straight.

"I'd like to remain on my ANBU team and help out with Team 7 part-time. My team will be Village-bound for the foreseeable future anyway due to an internal issue, which should allow me the time to help with Team 7 as requested. But I'd like to be able to prioritise my ANBU missions, once my team is cleared."

Ah.

Now Shikaku understands why Bear had argued so vehemently – at least for that man's standards of emoting – against making the girl a jounin from the get-go.

“Kid's a born infiltrator, Nara. I'm not letting her go unless she wants out, and her being a jounin would make it difficult to bring her back into the shadows. Agents like Hatake and Shiranui are the exception, not the standard.”

He wonders whether the desperate need to keep a child in the shadows is testament to the skill of the child or the state of the shadows.

He decides he’d rather not know.

“I don’t see why not.” Sarutobi decides after a pregnant pause, and Shikaku belatedly remembers that the girl had asked something of the man. “As long as you can manage both responsibilities to the best of your ability, you may stay with your team.”

Be careful of burn-out. Shikaku wants to say, the memory of Chouza’s worry for the shadows under Genma’s eyes when Genma had still been a kid, barely sixteen and already tokujo and ANBU, trying to pretend like switching between the two really was as easy as putting on a mask.

But he doesn’t say anything, and the girl nods, her lip quirking ever so slightly, yet the expression transforms her entire face.

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” She murmurs, inclining her head, and in the brief moment when she drops her gaze, Shikaku catches surprise flicker across the Sandaime’s face, but it’s gone with the next blink.

The girl straightens, and she doesn’t make eye-contact this time, switching her focus to the flak jacket in her grasp, though she still doesn’t put it on. Instead, she threads her free arm through both of the sleeve holes then grabs her crutch again, sandwiching the vest between her armpit and her crutch before she turns to the Hokage and nods one more time.

“If I may be excused?”

When Sarutobi waves her off, she turns on her heel and hobbles out, and Shikaku gaze catches on the way her smile drops the second her back is turned. Though her posture remains remarkably tension-free, the white-knuckled grip she’s got on the handles of her crutches says she is not as unaffected by this exchange as he would’ve otherwise believed.

Just who is this?

Inosuke doesn’t expect any visitors, particularly after the ordeal he’d had with the nurse upon waking up from his drugged nap.

You don’t drug jounin. Particularly not Yamanaka jounin.

(He may have glared at her until she ran out of the room when she came to check his vitals.)

(Maybe.)

He’s just glad Mongoose hadn’t been in the room at that point.

[It had been…novel, to have someone offer to let him use the Mind-Walk on them. Mongoose hadn’t flinched, hadn’t hesitated or backed out even after they’d clarified what the Mind-Walk entails. She’d simply maintained a small smile while he’d covered the distance between their beds, as if he was the one that needed comfort or reassurance in that situation.

Maybe he was.

The kid had been right, though; seeing Hatake’s dumbfounded face upon receiving the news that he’d been duped so thoroughly – his shock visible even with the mask on – had definitely been the highlight of his week.

But when the memory had ended, Mongoose’s grasp on it had slipped, and he caught a glimpse of the rest of her mindscape.

It seemed…elaborate.

Two corridors split off, dozens of doors on either wall, both paths running so deep into her mindscape that he couldn’t see their ends. One corridor was considerably better-lit than the other, and much more cared for, though Inosuke wasn’t sure how much of the mental upkeep was conscious.

Still, the instinct to reach out and pull one of the doors from the darker corridor open overwhelmed him, but when he’d gone to do so, he found that his hand had frozen on the doorknob.

‘I’m afraid you’ve overstayed your welcome.’

A cold, hollow voice had called out, similar and yet not to Mongoose’s voice. Similar in the pronunciation and intonation, but alien because it was flat. No warmth, no inflection, no emotion.

And then, he’d felt a tugging in his mind, and next thing he knew, his consciousness was fully back in his body, a bitch of a headache pulsing in his temples.

Mongoose had startled when he jerked back from her, her eyes wide. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” he’d waved her off, then turned to walk back to his bed to try and piece together whatever he had just experienced, and the fact that the kid didn’t seem to realise that she’d forced a Yamanaka jounin out of her mind, but he stopped half-way. “Thank you for the memory. You were right; I did enjoy it.”

She’d laughed, and he’d almost been able to pretend he hadn’t seen anything unusual at all.]

So he’s not expecting for the door to burst open and Mongoose to stumble in on her crutches, her face deathly pale and her breathing quiet but quick, though not the same type of quick as he’d expect from simple exertion.

She drops her crutches, seemingly not caring that the jacket she’d had on her arm falls to the floor as well, and presses her back against the door until it shuts. Her chest is moving unnaturally quickly, her breaths shallow, and she slides her back down the door until she’s sitting down, eyes wide, sweat beading on her forehead.

Hyperventilating.

Inosuke is on his feet and out of his bed before he quite realises what he’s doing, the pain that shoots through him at the sudden movement barely registering.

“Mongoose.” he calls, stopping about a metre from the kid, not sure whether she’d even recognise him now.

The girl keens and raises her hands, grasping fistfuls of her short hair and pulling until her knuckles turn white, but she doesn’t otherwise react to his words.

“Sakura.” he tries again, reaching over and wrapping his fingers around her left wrist, though when he tries to pull it away from her hair, she sobs loudly, so he stops, but doesn’t relax his grip.

“Look at me!” he snaps.

He doesn’t usually raise his voice, doesn’t need to when most of his subordinates wouldn’t dare go against him anyway. But this isn’t to assert authority over the situation, no – he just needs to drag the kid out of whatever spiral she’d fallen down, and he doesn’t know what else to do.

Luckily, it seems to work. He waits until dazed green eyes finally meet his, then waits some more until the fog starts to clear.

“You’re in the hospital.” he tells her quietly, tugging lightly at the wrist he still holds captive, and he’s slightly surprised when she relaxes her grip on her hair and lets him tug her hand away.

She’s still breathing too fast and her face is still worriedly pale, but her eyes have lost the desperate panic that shone in them before.

This, at least, he can deal with. He crouches next to her, mindful not to crowd her, and turns the hand in his grip to press it to his own sternum, splaying her fingers out over his chest.

He takes a deep breath.

“Match my breathing.” He orders curtly, since it seemed like the tone had worked before, and he adds in a brief glare when the kid just stares at him blankly.

Almost as if chastised, she hastens to do as ordered, though she nearly chokes on the first inhalation, and it takes her a solid five minutes to have her breathing even remotely matching his.

“Alright.” He murmurs, releasing his grip on her wrist and letting it fall to her lap. He tips over from his crouch to sit his ass on the floor, legs crossed loosely in front of him, and he pins the kid with an assessing look. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

To his surprise, Mongoose snorts, though it’s weak.

“You’re not actually my shrink, y’know.” She mumbles tiredly, shooting him a wan smile.

“No, but I am your captain.” He points out, baffled when the girl winces.

“They made me a chunin.” She says, a propos nothing, glaring at what he belatedly realises is a flak jacket crumpled on the floor next to them. “Kakashi must’ve pulled some strings- Genma probably told him, the bastard- they tried to pull me out, and I-!”

She cuts herself off and squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep, shuddering breath which they both pretend she doesn’t choke on, before she tries again.

“The Hokage made me assistant-sensei to Kakashi’s genin team.” She relays tonelessly, blankly, like one would deliver a mission report. Like ROOT would relay a report, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Tried to pull me fully from ANBU, but I didn’t let him.”

The impassive mask cracks for the briefest of seconds, an unexpected burst of viciousness escaping from the girl at that last part.

Inosuke takes a few seconds to absorb that, but before he pulls the full story from the kid, he needs to check one thing:

“Why would you oppose being pulled out of ANBU? From what I’ve gathered, it hasn’t been easy for you.” he asks, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, and carefully doesn’t react at the sharp, humourless smile the girl shoots him in return.

“I wasn’t meant to survive ANBU, I know.” She agrees flatly, almost spitefully. “But I did, not just the shadows but the sabotage too. Disappearing me didn’t work when I was fully in the shadows, I’m not going to let him try again.”

Inosuke hisses out a breath and shoots her a warning glare.

‘The walls have ears here’ He signs, and the kid looks startled, then appropriately chagrined. ‘Be careful’

“Sorry.” She sighs, and she sounds so tired that Inosuke almost slips up and tries to comfort her.

Instead, he pushes to his feet and holds out a hand. At her curious glance, he raises an eyebrow. “Do you want the nurses to nag?”

Huffing a quiet laugh, the kid lets him pull her up, then accepts the arm he holds out to help her to her bed.

[Both of them studiously ignore the flak jacket on the floor.]

Once they’re in their respective beds, he asks for the rest of the story.

“What did you mean, ‘Genma probably told him’?”

Mongoose looks at him, sighs, and spills.

By the time Sakura is done with telling Inosuke everything that had happened since her poison-cooking session with Genma to her meeting with the Hokage, her throat’s a little sore, but she’s almost able to forget the panic attack she’d had upon leaving the Sandaime’s office.

Almost.

[There was a reason she hadn’t sought either of the boys out since she’d gotten this chance at a redo. She hadn’t realised how subconscious her decision not to involve herself in either of their lives had been until it had been wrenched to the forefront of her mind by the Hokage’s announcement. Honestly, fuck Kakashi.]

Worst thing was, she wouldn’t have been able to explain why that decision had shaken her so badly if Inosuke had asked.

[Naruto and Sasuke had killed her, in her previous life. Now she’s going to be their sensei. Fucking fantastic.]

She wasn’t a big believer in lucky stars or good karma, but she thanks all her lucky stars at that moment that Inosuke doesn’t ask, appearing content to just sit there and listen.

They sit in silence for a few seconds after she’s done with her tale, and Sakura takes the opportunity to sip her water and soothe her throat with her chakra. She doesn’t think she’s spoken that much at once since her team dinner with Team Ro and Shin when they finally found out about her Mokuton.

“Anything to say, senpai?” she asks after more than a minute has passed without Inosuke so much as twitching.

“I…appreciate you defending me.” He says at last, hesitating slightly as if he doesn’t know how to react. “But Shiranui wasn’t entirely wrong.”

Sakura does a double-take, then narrows her eyes.

“How so?” she presses, tilting her head, and Inosuke smiles, but it’s small and wry and decidedly humourless.

“So you really didn’t ask anyone.” He observes, and he appears torn between reluctantly amused and somewhat…touched? Sakura waves the thought off.  

“Ask about?” she presses instead, and he shoots her a wry smile.

“Me.” He answers simply.

“I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.” She answers evenly, repeating the same thing she’d told Genma. “And if you didn’t, then it was none of my business.”

Inosuke’s smile dims slightly, then he sighs and appears to steel himself.

“I had a genin team.” He begins quietly, and from the past tense alone, Sakura knows this story isn’t going to have a happy ending.

“Managed to get them through the Third War in one piece somehow.” He chuckles humourlessly. “Then all the treaties were getting signed, kill-on-sight orders rescinded, and we got a border run. Konoha to Suna, through River. Seemed easy enough to the mission desk.”

Sakura keeps quiet even as Inosuke grimaces and closes his eyes, the scar on his face pulling painfully with his grimace.

“I didn’t think much of it either; my kids had been chunin-level for a good few months at that point, and they’d survived a lot. A border run would be a paid vacation, I thought. But what nobody in the Tower had considered was that the peace treaties that were signed were only signed between the Great Nations. All the smaller countries that got the most fucked over by the War got nothing. But fuck them, right? They’re just the buffer-zone.”

He snorts derisively and opens his eyes, gaze trained on the ceiling, and Sakura waits for him to continue.

“Some disillusioned Ame-nin were lurking around the borders of River and Fire. Set up traps, area-effect genjutsu, poison bombs, the lot.” He swallows, then sighs quietly. “We walked straight into it. I sent out a request for backup after I’d dealt with them, but it didn’t come.”

He lowers his gaze and meets her eyes, and Sakura is struck by the heartbreak on his face. “We set out as a team of four…and came back as a one man and three body scrolls.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sakura whispers after a few seconds, after she manages to swallow past the lump in her throat, her eyes wide. Inosuke inclines his head but doesn’t comment, and she feels horribly lost.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat and looks up again. “That’s not the reason people don’t like me, however.”

Sakura is thrown by the self-satisfied, bloodthirsty smile that suddenly splits his face, the earlier grief washed away, replaced instead with a slightly manic light in his eyes.

“I did the dance with the shrinks to get cleared for field-work after and tracked the fuckers down.” His gaze falls to his hands, and Sakura can see all the way from the other end of the room that they’re trembling. “I ripped their jutsu from their minds and used the same techniques they used against my team to kill every Ame-nin I came across.”

Sakura stills.

“It took Psych another three months and numerous complaints to realise that only a Yamanaka should be able to clear another Yamanaka for field-duty.” He adds, the vicious note still in his voice, and Sakura thinks he sounds proud of himself.

“Complaints?” she asks quietly, the word standing out to her, and Inosuke’s sharp smile gains teeth.

“My team-leaders had to contend with a manic, suicidal Yamanaka able to pry out their worst nightmares and bring them to life through genjutsu.” He summarises, and Sakura stifles a sympathetic wince. “I don’t remember much from those months, but other people do. Apparently, I didn’t really distinguish between friend and foe.”

They lapse into silence, and Sakura tries to wrap her head around what she’s learnt.

“Is that why you let me go to Wave?” she asks after a few minutes of silence, and Inosuke appears thrown by her question, because his vicious half-smile finally fades, and he tilts his head at her. “Because when you called for backup, it didn’t come?”

Inosuke blinks at her, seemingly completely thrown, then hangs his head and laughs quietly, that same jagged, rusty-sounding laugh she’d heard back in Wave.

“That’s what you got from that?” he asks, his tone a touch disbelieving. “I tell you I terrorised enemies and allies alike with their worst nightmares in technicolour and you ask if I felt empathetic for Hatake’s situation?”

“Yes.” She agrees, not hesitating in the slightest, which seems to catch Inosuke off-guard. “You are not the first person to lose their genin team, and I’m unfortunately certain that you won’t be the last. You are also not the only person who’s acted regrettably out of grief. While it is tragic, and I am deeply sorry you had to go through that, beyond the unique combination of genjutsu with your Clan’s techniques, I don’t see anything unusual in your story.”

When Inosuke continues to just…stare at her, Sakura runs a frustrated hand through her hair and sighs.

“I’m no stranger to survivor’s guilt.” She says quietly, and it’s her turn to drop eye-contact in favour of staring at her lap, Neko’s mask flashing through her mind. “The things I did in ROOT…I’m not proud of them. But,” she takes a deep breath and forces her gaze up to meet her captain’s eyes. “I would not blame you for losing your team any more than I would blame the Yondaime for losing two-thirds of his, so-”

She shrugs, wrestling with her words to try and make them express what she wants to say.

“-so, I want to thank you for trusting me, but I still think Genma was wrong.”

She tries not to fidget in the ringing silence that falls between them at her declaration, then, when she’s about to start trying to explain herself, Inosuke finally chuckles.

“I can’t decide what fucked you up more, ROOT, or Hatake.” He announces drily, then meets her startled gaze with the most genuine smile she’s seen from him so far. “But thank you.”

Two days later, Sakura gets the all-clear from the doctor to go home, though she’s sternly reminded not to overexert herself because she had shattered thirteen bones. She thanks the doctor, grabs her crutches, and bites her cheek to avoid laughing when he walks out of the room muttering about how bizarrely quickly she had healed.

Then, when he’s out of the room, she flicks through a familiar set of seals and presses her hand to the blanket on her bed. Once the smoke clears, and she notes the worryingly-large drain of her reserves, Tamaki and Chie sit on her bed, Chie looking around curiously while Tamaki seems content to wait for Sakura to explain what she wants from them.

“Senpai,” she calls, though she knows Inosuke hasn’t looked away since she started gathering chakra for the summoning, “you’ve met Tamaki-chan before.” She points at the sensing-specialising summon, and sees the moment Inosuke recognises the tiger as the one that had led them to Sai in Wave.

“This is Chie-chan.” she continues when she has his full attention, and points at the slightly larger tiger, though still smaller than either Ryū or Yū. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for her to stay with you until you’re released.”

Inosuke’s attention sharpens.

“The nurses might object to a summon in the room.” He points out evenly, though Sakura’s become familiar enough with his tone to know that he’s digging.

“Not if they can’t see her.” She shoots back, and Chie allows herself to be picked up and carried to the foot of Inosuke’s bed. Once on the covers, the tiger curls up so she’s comfortable and disappears. “Chie-chan specialises in stealth. She can do an approximation of what you used in Wave, I think.”

“…Is this about Bat?” her captain asks after a beat, and now it’s Sakura’s turn to blink confusedly because she didn’t know that Inosuke knew.

“…Partly.” She agrees, settling for truth. “And also because falling asleep to a purring cat is much nicer than falling asleep to drugs.”

Inosuke’s startle is just as funny as it is tragic.

“Don’t worry, I’ve informed her direct superior.” She tells him with only a touch of schadenfreude, “She won’t be working with high-level shinobi for a while.”

Another brief silence, and then a sharp, “Are you sure you don’t need a shrink?”

Unable to help herself, Sakura snickers.

“There are quite a lot of S-Rank secrets in my head, senpai.” She informs him dryly once she gathers herself. “And a lot of my issues are directly connected to them. I wouldn’t want to involve anyone in my mess, patient confidentiality be damned.”

“And if they offered?” Inosuke asks without missing a beat, and Sakura actually pauses, reading between the lines of what he’s actually saying.

“If they offered, I’d be grateful, but I’d still wait until they were back to full physical health themselves.” She meets his gaze to drive her point home. “And I’d want them to know that letting my summon stay with them would be very beneficial to my mental wellbeing.”

Inosuke snorts. “Manipulative brat.”

Sakura just shoots him a mock salute and walks back to her own bed, shrugging on her new chunin vest despite how much it feels like a noose around her neck, then picking up Tamaki and wrapping the cat around her shoulders like a vibrating scarf.

“I’ll see you around, senpai.” she calls, and hobbles out of the room upon receiving an affirmative grunt, though she casts a quick concealment genjutsu on Tamaki’s fur so it appears black instead of its rather characteristic marking.

“Remember the dog scent that’s often around Sai?” she asks quietly, taking care to move her mouth as little as possible as she navigates the hospital corridors with Tamaki around her neck. At the press of a cold nose under her jaw, she adds, “Do you remember the chakra?”

“Thunderstorms.” Tamaki replies, shifting so her head is resting more on Sakura’s clavicle.

“That’s right. Can you tell me how to avoid it if it comes close to us?”

Kakashi hadn’t thought much about his request to get Sakura as his assistant sensei beyond needing to ensure that she doesn’t share the fate of Wolf’s other teenage associates.

In fact, it was not until Nara Shikaku caught his elbow in the Mission Assignment office, a cryptic, ‘I don’t know who the kid is to you, or why you did it, but I don’t think she’s happy with her reassignment’ that he even entertained what Sakura might think about her new position.

Still, from ‘she’s not happy’, there’s still quite a long way to ‘she’ll actively dodge your attempts at coming closer on her way back from the hospital’. Kakashi doesn’t think he deserves that degree of cold-shoulder, but on his fifth unsuccessful try to catch Sakura without causing a scene in public, [which, considering that the girl is on crutches but still manages to disappear on him, is a) rather impressive, and b) makes him realise that he should have connected Sai’s lack of presence to ROOT stealth training much, much sooner], he resigns himself to a house-visit.

What was it one of his many shrinks over the years had said? That he needs to ‘avoid running from things that make him uncomfortable’? Well, he’s trying to run towards them this time, but it’s still not working.

With a quiet sigh, he changes course from following his kouhai and heads directly to the Barracks, scaling the building and settling on the roof, trying to decide how long he should give it before he knocks on their window.

On the half-hour mark, he drops down to the third floor to the half-open window of Sakura and Shin’s living room and perches on the outside window-sill.

“She’s mad at you.”

Kakashi does not jump.

Not even a little.

“Fu-! You need a bell.” He swears at Shin, glaring at where the teen pokes his head out from the next window along.

He gets a judgemental eyebrow in response, and the sheer level of ‘unimpressed’ that radiates from Shin would be enough to make lesser men sweatdrop.

“I think you’ll find that I’m in my own house, Hatake, and it’s you who should be polite and announce himself, instead of lurking like a pervert.” The teen remarks, and Kakashi doesn’t wait for the official welcome before he slips through the window and straightens to his full height.

“Happy?” he snaps, immediately slumping into his usual slouch.

“No. My sister is still mad at you.” he shoots back, also turning so he’s leaning against the wall instead of leaning out of the window. “At Shiranui more, but you’re not blameless. So. Fix it.”

“Any insight as to why she’s mad?” Kakashi presses, not enjoying the churn in his stomach. They’d not had much opportunity to talk since she’d come to the Jounin HQ to accuse him of dereliction of duty, and he’d rather not fuck over this relationship entirely. “Minimal sarcasm, if you could?”

“Social interaction for emotionally-stunted geniuses 101;” Sakura’s voice rings out, and Kakashi realises that he’d forgotten she was just a thin wall away, “next time you do something that directly affects another person's immediate future, ask them about it first.”

Kakashi sighs, though he inclines his head to show he understands. “I’m sorry.”

Sakura, however, merely raises an eyebrow, and Kakashi’s struck by how similar the expression is to the one Shin had aimed at him mere minutes earlier. “For what? For going behind my back, or for trying to get me off Wolf’s team?”

“For going behind your back.” Kakashi admits, because he’s not sorry for reducing Sakura’s chances at interaction with a man whose teammates’ survival rate is zero out of six.

Even he’s only at zero out of three. It’s hard to be worse than him, and yet Yamanaka Inosuke succeeded.

“Well.” Sakura sighs, and some of the earlier iciness melts away, though he can tell she's still a bit cross. “It’s a start.”

“And,” Kakashi swallows, wraps Inoichi’s words around him like an invisible blanket, and adds, adamantly not looking at Shin, “I’m sorry for not looking after your brother.”

By the way her face softens, Kakashi knows Sakura understands he’s referring to what transpired between them in the Jounin HQ.

“Apology accepted.” She smiles, and Kakashi feels an invisible weight melt off his shoulders. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I humiliated you in the HQ.”

“It’s alright.” He shrugs, suddenly uncomfortable. “Others have done worse for less.”

To his surprise, Sakura frowns. “It’s not ‘alright’. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry, taicho.”

Maybe it’s the tone, maybe it’s the title she tacks on at the end which he hasn’t heard in a while, but Kakashi relaxes fully and reaches out to ruffle her hair.

“It’s okay, kouhai.” He replies, mirroring her intonation. Then, with a shrug, he adds an only half-joking, “My shrink would probably agree that I needed the kick.”

Inoichi had made it clear they were going to talk about things, and as the man had been friends with Minato and occasionally taken over ‘Team Minato babysitting duty’ when Minato had been busy with Kushina, Kakashi couldn’t run away from the man as easily or as guilt-free as from the other Yamanaka shrinks.

 “Stop the presses,” Shin drawls from where he’s still leaning against the wall, and Kakashi really needs to stop spacing out like this, “Hatake Kakashi, bastard extraordinaire, is going to his mandated therapy sessions?”

“It happens when your genin-who’s-not-a-genin knows too many of the Psych buzzwords and makes the shrinks strongarm you into therapy or suspension.” He shoots back, sending Shin the stink-eye, before adding, saccharine-sweet, “Maybe you’d know something about that?”

“’fraid not.” Shin shrugs, though there’s a small smile playing around his lips which Kakashi chooses not to read into. “Kudos to that genin, though.”

“You’re hilarious.” Kakashi deadpans, and Shin’s ghost of a smile morphs into a full-on grin for a second, before he turns and hops onto the windowsill.

“Alright. I’ve exceeded my daily quota for emotion and this house is teeming with it. Later!” and jumps.

Kakashi turns to Sakura, who appears torn between fond and exasperated. “Sometimes, I think Hayate-san might’ve been onto something.” She sighs, then moves to the kitchen, completely ignoring the indignant noise Kakashi makes.

“So…” he draws the word out, ambling carefully over to where Sakura has started chopping something, “will you be my assistant-sensei? Voluntarily?”

To his surprise, Sakura smiles. “Yes, taicho.” She agrees, then shoots him a look. “But you are aware that I’m the same age as them, right?”

“And a lifetime more experienced, yes.” He adds drily, and Sakura laughs quietly, wordlessly conceding the point. “Only Sasuke is likely to have an issue with respect, but he appears to respect strength, so worst comes to worst, we can just have you fight him.”

He’s shocked when Sakura’s smile drops, and she fumbles the knife, almost cutting her finger. “I thought you liked your team.” She tries to joke, but her voice is much weaker than before, and Kakashi doesn’t know why.

“I do.” He answers slowly, eye trained on Sakura for her reaction. “But a superior is a superior, even if you’re the same age as them, and Sasuke unfortunately doesn’t like to do things ‘just because’.”

“Alright.” Sakura sighs, and this time, when she shoots him a small smile, it’s a touch more genuine. “But let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

“You’ll be fine.” he reaches out to ruffle her hair again, but this time, Sakura dodges, pointing the knife she’d since picked up at him, so he gives up with an eye-smile. “Till tomorrow, then, kouhai. Training ground seven, aim for around noon.”

And he’s gone before she can throw the knife at him.

The next morning, Sakura spends about ten minutes staring at her open wardrobe. The temptation to just take out ANBU standard uniform is almost overwhelming, and she hasn’t realised how much she hadn’t developed an individual style until she’s faced with her wardrobe and the fifty shades of grey and black that fill it.

In the end, she settles for dark grey cargo pants which she tucks into her boots, and steals an oversized black t-shirt from Sai’s wardrobe, taking advantage of Sai having stayed the night at Shino’s again. The shirt is plain, and despite the sleeves technically being ‘short’, they almost reach her elbow, which leaves only an inch or so of bare arm before her ANBU-issue gloves begin.  She tucks her t-shirt into her trousers and throws her chunin vest on top, the green looking strangely out-of-place with the otherwise monochrome outfit.

She combs her fingers through her hair then ties her forehead protector over her throat, covering the delicate cartilage with the metal plating.

With a deep breath, she steps out of the house and heads for training ground seven, feeling somewhat like she’s walking to her death.

She finds Kakashi in a tree overlooking the grounds five minutes before noon and shoots him a quick smile. “What time did you tell them?”

“Nine.” Kakashi answers with a guileless eye-crinkle.

“You sick bastard.”

Kakashi’s quiet laughter shakes the branch they’re on, and, once he stops laughing, he drops to the ground, and Sakura has little choice but to follow.

“My cute genin, your attention please.” Kakashi calls as they step out of the treeline and onto Training Ground 7, expertly ignoring Naruto’s indignant squawk and Sasuke’s put-upon glare. “I want to introduce my other cute kouhai, who from today onwards shall be your assistant-sensei.” 

“Assistant...sensei?” Naruto mumbles, oddly quiet, even as he gawks at her shamelessly.

“I thought only jounin are made sensei.” Sasuke points out, and though his tone is far less acidic than that of his adult self, the judgement and overblown sense of self-importance is still there, and it grates at her.

Kakashi just smiles, but the crease of his eye tells her that it’s a hint sharper than his usual ones.  

“That's mostly correct.” 

Sasuke's face says 'then why is she here?' clearer than if he'd shouted it from the rooftops, and Kakashi must realise it because his phony smile only grows, but he stays silent.

"I believe," Sai speaks up for the first time since Sakura entered the clearing, and she chances a glance at her brother, only to find him already looking at her, "that Sasuke-san is confused as to your kouhai's presence here, seeing as she appears to be close to our age." 

Sakura carefully doesn’t let her gaze linger on Sai, sending a mental apology to the boy for springing this on him without a word, though in all fairness, she’s only been aware of this development for about 72 hours.

"Oh, well, you should've just said so, Sasuke." Kakashi chastises idly, and Sakura realises with no small degree of exasperation that he's enjoying this. "My kouhai was made your assistant sensei because she is, in fact, a jounin-level kunoichi."

Immediately, it's as if a switch has been flicked – Naruto snaps to attention even as Sasuke glares. 

"What?! But- but she's our age!" 

At that, Kakashi's good humour temporarily vanishes. 

“Do you remember what I told you when we faced Zabuza the first time?” He asks coldly, and again, it's Sai who answers.

“’In this world, there are some younger than us, but stronger than you’.” He recites dutifully, and Naruto and Sasuke's eyes widen as they remember their first real battle.

Kakashi merely nods, that cold look still in his eyes. “It would do you well to remember that.” 

When Naruto continues to gawk and Sasuke's glare turns assessing instead of scornful, Sakura stifles a sigh.

“I think,” she addresses Kakashi, drawing the boys’ attention to her face while her left hand subtly signs ‘spar’ to Kakashi, waiting till his own hand twitches in confirmation, “that a ‘show of strength’ will dispel any lingering doubts far faster than words.” 

Kakashi makes a great spectacle of looking speculative for a split second before he brightens. 

“Good idea. Sasuke!” He calls, and the Uchiha raises an eyebrow. “Since you're the most distrustful of your new sensei's ability, you'll fight her. Go all out.” 

Sasuke smirks, radiating confidence, and heads off to the middle of the training grounds.

“Sakura,” Kakashi addresses her this time, too quiet for Sasuke to hear, but not bothering to hide what he's saying from Naruto and Sai, “taijutsu and the Academy Three only. And watch your foot. I saw your medical chart.”

Naruto's eyes widen but he stays uncharacteristically silent, choosing to watch her as she moves to face Sasuke instead, and Sai's eyes drill holes in the back of her head, but she'll explain herself later.

She has a moment of unbidden anxiety at Kakashi’s restriction, her mind flashing back to memories of her previous life, of Sasuke-the-genin being hailed as a genius, but then, a voice in her head that sounds a lot like Shin calls her an idiot and banishes all doubts. 

For all that Sasuke is a genius on the backdrop of their graduating class, he's got nothing on Shisui when he was his age. Hell, he's got nothing on Sai, and though he's fast for a genin, Sakura is faster.

She still forgets sometimes, but she's a genius too in this timeline. 

She won't lose. 

But she has to be careful not to accidentally kill him.

And she still can’t meet his eyes.

“Go!” Kakashi calls suddenly, and Sasuke doesn’t need further invitation.

He doesn't waste a moment, striking out with a barrage of admirably accurate shuriken, but Sakura isn’t keen to turn this into an exhibition match. She deflects the shuriken with kunai of her own, each hitting one of the throwing stars and either deflecting them or pinning them harmlessly to the ground around them. And, in a move that’s becoming a favourite of hers, she throws one extra and lets it sail wide by Sasuke's head.

Quicker than he can blink, she uses a seal-less kawarimi to switch places with the kunai and strikes out at Sasuke's knees, catching his arms as he falls and twisting them behind his back in a mimicry of what he had once done to the Sound-nin Zaku in the Forest of Death.

"Kawarimi." She mutters under her breath, just loud enough for Sasuke to hear, and he freezes under her hands.

"Ahaha teme, you lost!" Naruto exclaims from the side-lines, apparently choosing to focus on his glee over Sasuke losing instead of the sheer disbelief at someone their age being able to beat Sasuke so quickly.

"Round two!" Kakashi announces cheerfully, signature book in full view though his eye is trained on their spar.

Sasuke squares up again once she lets Sasuke up, and the earlier confidence has given way to a wary contemplation on the Uchiha’s face.

"Go!" Kakashi calls again, and no sooner has he uttered the words does Sasuke produce a massive Fireball and send it flying straight for her. Sakura kawarimis with one of the deflected shuriken, calls up three bunshin and masks her chakra before rushing Sasuke.

She weaves and changes places with the bunshin at such speeds that, without his Sharingan, Sasuke has no chance of tracking her movements, though that doesn't stop him from striking out with a wide side kick. Sakura slides under it and, in a move reminiscent of what Rock Lee had once pulled, she pushes off the ground with her hands and kicks Sasuke right in the chin with her non-injured foot, sending him flying a good two metres vertically in the air. 

She follows after him, pushing off the ground while circulating chakra through her legs. As she reaches Sasuke, he tries to strike out at her with a kunai but it's so predictable she doesn't bother deigning it with a block, just grabs his wrist and knocks the knife from his hold, then uses said wrist to flip him over.

She lets Sasuke fall slightly lower than her and delivers a downward heel kick to his solar plexus, taking care to not use any chakra in the hit.

She wants Sasuke winded, not dead, after all.

Still, even with her precaution, they were only about a metre above the ground when she hit him, so Sasuke slams into the ground, dust rising and hairline cracks forming in the earth and spreading a few centimetres out from the point of impact. She feels the tiniest flicker of guilt when he wheezes, doubtless completely winded, but if she remembers anything from the Sasuke of her time, he would scorn any help she were to offer now, so she lets him pick himself back up in his own time, and when he's finally on his feet, she glances at the spot between his eyebrows, the closest to his eyes she can make herself look, and mutters only one word.

"Bunshin."

Sasuke's eyes widen and it seems he's finally caught on to what she's doing if the way his gaze darts to Kakashi is anything to go by. But even suspecting that there's only one more technique to go, nothing can prepare him for what Sakura does when Kakashi says 'go' for the third time. 

Sakura herself can barely believe she's doing it, even as she brings up a mental image of the man and lets herself assume the face and outfit of Uchiha Itachi on the day of the Uchiha Massacre. 

Sasuke freezes. 

She can feel Kakashi's shock and absently registers Naruto's confused demands as to what she's doing, but her focus is on Sasuke.

The boy is trembling, hands shaking at his sides, then she watches as the shock melts into pure, unadulterated rage, and that is the moment she strikes.

She is within Sasuke's guard in a blink and meets his uncoordinated blows with ease, and feels a flicker of satisfaction when she notices that Sasuke's anger is making him sloppy.

More vicious, yes, but sloppy. 

So it's easy, almost too easy, to add half-remembered bits of the Uchiha Style she learnt from Shisui into her attack pattern, watching as Sasuke loses a little more of his already fragile control with every move he recognises.

Within half a minute, Sasuke is red-faced, his swings beginning to look more like Naruto's brawl-like taijutsu than the polished style he usually favours, and that's when Sakura adds a touch more speed. After that, it's less than ten seconds before she's got Sasuke on the ground, right wrist pinned under her foot, and a kunai pointed at his throat.

"Henge." She says at last, drops the transformation and steps away. 

"And that's a match." Kakashi calls when she turns to him, seemingly recovered from his shock, and claps his hands. 

"Now, Sasuke, before you complain," he waits until the Uchiha picks himself off the ground and Sakura sees him meet Sasuke’s baleful glare before he continues, "I was the one who told Sakura to only use taijutsu and the Academy Three, and seeing as she still trounced you 3-0, I expect you to show her the deserved respect. If I hear of any cases of insubordination, it'll be back to D-Ranks for a month."

"Why tell me to go all-out if you're going to give her restrictions?" Sasuke bites out, angry and humiliated, and though he’s clearly revaluating her, he's too much of an Uchiha at heart to let that showing teach him any sort of humility.

"Because, you arrogant brat," Kakashi replies, voice saccharine-sweet and his fake eye-smile in place, and it takes Sakura a second to actually register his words, "she is a jounin-level kunoichi. If I’d told her to go all-out, she'd have killed you in three seconds. Allow me to demonstrate."

He beckons Sakura to the middle of the field and they stand opposite each other just like Sakura and Sasuke had not three minutes ago. 

"Let's give them a show, hm, kouhai?" Kakashi asks good-naturedly, and Sakura nods. Even with the minimal instruction, she has a feeling she knows precisely what sort of ‘showing’ Kakashi means, and she feels an answering grin to the one she can see beneath his mask bloom on her face.

They wait until Sasuke is safely by Naruto and Sai, then, they spring.

"Holy crap!" Naruto exclaims, unable to help himself as Kaka-sensei and his new 'assistant' spring into motion. "She really went easy on you, teme!"

Sasuke grunts and there's a scowl on his face, but his eyes are wide as he, too, struggles to keep track of the sparring duo. 

"It's like Kakashi-sensei said," Sai speaks up, settling down on Sasuke's left, and Naruto glances briefly at the artist before gluing his eyes back to the fight, "if a- if Sakura-san had gone all-out, we could've fit all that would have been left of Sasuke into a matchbox."

Naruto can see that, as angry and embarrassed as Sasuke is likely to be at having been beaten so thoroughly and with the Academy Three of all things, he's beginning to understand that his defeat had nothing to do with him. 

Kakashi and his 'kouhai' are simply on another level.

"I don't think he moved that fast when he was fighting Zabuza." Naruto mumbles, more to himself than anything else. "I can barely freakin' see them and there's no mist this time!"

Just then, Kakashi disengages from the flurry of too-fast-to-see taijutsu and flashes through some handsigns, and the wind he produces is sharp enough to score deep marks into the bark of the trees surrounding their training grounds.

The girl seems unfazed as she flashes through her own seals and a second later, a gust of fire erupts from her mouth and Naruto notices Sasuke twitch at his side. 

For some reason, the burst of fire doubles in size when it meets Kaka-sensei's jutsu and suddenly, it's their sensei who has to kawarimi out of the path of the inferno heading straight for him. 

The second Kakashi's feet touch the ground on the girl's other side, he's flashing through more seals and holding his arm straight up. Suddenly, a literal lightning bolt flashes down from the sky, and Kakashi barely lets it touch him before redirecting it right where his kouhai is standing.

Naruto thinks he hears a muttered curse, then the girl makes the cross seal that forms 90% of his battle plans and the clone she makes grabs her arms and spins, throwing her a good thirty feet up, out of the path of the coming lightning bolt. 

She grins, the expression visible even from as far as they are, and lets a kunai fly, heading straight for Kakashi, yet before he has a chance to throw his own to deflect it, she switches place with the blade, suddenly less than a metre from the other jounin.

Naruto winces as Kakashi's retaliatory kunai digs into the meat of her forearm but then her heel touches the ground and the world trembles.

"What the hell-!" Naruto shrieks as he scrambles to his feet and away from the cracks that form in the earth, spidering out from the literal crater that suddenly appears in the middle of their training ground, with the girl and a dusty-looking Kakashi at its epicenter. 

Sasuke seems comparably shell-shocked at the level of destruction wrought by a single kick, and that, more than anything, appears to banish the remaining anger he'd felt towards Kakashi at the restrictions he'd placed on their new 'sensei' for their spar. 

"I think that was sufficiently educational." They hear Kakashi laugh quietly, reaching out to ruffle the girl's short hair, and she quirks a smile and nods before they both climb out of the crater and make their way towards the three genin. 

"That was insane, ‘ttebayo!” Naruto cheers, because now that he knows that Kakashi-sensei is not just some crazy old man after the fight with Zabuza, seeing someone who could’ve, by all respects, been in the same graduating class as them match him blow-for-blow is mind-boggling. “Are you really gon’ be our sensei? Really-really?”

“Be quiet, dobe.” Sasuke grunts, but his earlier acid and anger are completely gone now – at least, as gone as can be for Sasuke.

“Really-really.” she confirms, speaking for the first time since she’d damned Sasuke by beating him 3-0 with nothing but the Academy Three and some taijutsu, a small smile on her face, though she still won’t meet their eyes for some reason. “Taicho has told me a great deal about his team, and you all sound like interesting individuals. I look forward to working with you.”

Naruto’s mind catches on the word ‘taicho’ and he gets distracted by the way Sasuke freezes by his side at the term, side-eyeing Sai for some reason.

“How about introductions? Same style as before.” Kakashi proposes after a beat passes in silence, but his kouhai holds up a hand and steps towards Sasuke, and, right in front of their eyes, her hand is enveloped in a pale green sheen of chakra.

“I kicked you harder than I’d intended.” She explains when Sasuke eyes her distrustfully. “Will you let me check your ribs?”

Naruto watches as Sasuke scowls, glancing at Kakashi, who just smiles like he always does, then, to Naruto’s surprise, Sasuke turns to Sai.

And Sai just nods, the corner of his lips quirking up. “It’d be wise to listen to the medic.”

Sasuke’s scowl doesn’t fade, but he nods at their new sensei and lets her do…whatever it is she means to do.

“Alright.” Kakashi-sensei calls once the girl drops her hand and steps away, seemingly satisfied. “So. The introductions?”

Wonder of wonders, it’s Sasuke who speaks up first.

“Uchiha Sasuke.” He tells their new sensei, and he looks oddly serious. “I enjoy training. My specialisation is Uchiha Fire-style and taijutsu. My goal is to find a certain man and…ask him something.”

Their new sensei twitches the slightest bit at that, a motion Naruto only catches because he hasn’t looked away from her since Kakashi had spoken, but her expression doesn’t change.

He grins.

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto!” he declares proudly, jabbing a thumb at his chest. “I like ramen and my team! I will be Hokage one day!” then, he realises what the other two have said and scratches his head. “Uh, I’m good at making clones and traps and stuff!”

Unlike all the other people he’s made that declaration to, their new sensei merely cocks her head and nods thoughtfully.

“I’m Sai.” Sai finally speaks, and the girl’s eyes seem to soften as they fall on the artist. “I enjoy drawing and spending time with my siblings. I specialise in medium to long-range combat. My goal is for my family to be happy.”

Naruto cocks his head at the wording, a tiny frown marring his brow as he tries to remember what was different from the first introduction he’d given.

“I’m Sakura. Despite what taicho has implied, I’m a chunin. My specialisation is mid to long-range ninjutsu and taijutsu. I enjoy reading and spending time with my brothers. My goal is…hm. My goal is to one day fight with my unit again.”

Naruto doesn’t bother hiding his confusion at her odd ‘goal’, but Kakashi interrupts before he can ask for a clarification.

“I think that’ll do for today. Meet back here tomorrow at eight, and be ready to show me and my kouhai everything you’ve learnt since graduating.”

Kakashi ruffles Sakura’s hair, more for the stink-eye that gets him than anything else. “You did much better than I did on the first meeting. Well done, kouhai.”

Then, before she can kick him, he shunshins to the treeline, masking his chakra immediately as he lands amid the branches.

He’s seen the way Sasuke has been eyeing his kouhai since their little ‘exhibition match’, and he wonders what the Uchiha wants from the girl. And, more than anything, he wonders how Sakura will react to his little sourpuss Uchiha’s less-than-stellar social skills.

And indeed, Sasuke lingers, waiting until Sai and Naruto disappear between the trees before he speaks.

“Sakura-san.” Sasuke calls as his kouhai is about to head off, and she pauses obligingly, turning back around.

Inwardly, Kakashi is surprised that Sasuke remembered the honorific, even if it seems more like an afterthought than actual manners.

“Yes, Sasuke?” Sakura asks, and her tone is a curious mix of intrigue and careful politeness, though the latter seems almost like it’s masking something. Her eyes, curiously enough, never rise higher than Sasuke’s nose. “Did you need anything?”

“Why do you call Kakashi ‘taicho’?” Sasuke demands, blunt as ever, and Kakashi despairs. Then, he almost topples out of his branch at Sakura’s answer.

“It’s what I’ve always called him.” She replies with a shrug, offering Sasuke a tiny smile. “It feels weird to call him anything else.”

“You were ANBU, then.” Sasuke concludes, and Kakashi would’ve been surprised at his quick deduction if not for who his brother had been.

“Still am, actually.” Sakura tells the Uchiha lightly, and Kakashi isn’t imagining the way Sasuke’s eyes widen at the news, then narrow as he scrutinizes her in silence for a few seconds.

“You knew my brother.” He states, and he’s not accusative, not really, but Kakashi’s sure any other shinobi would’ve at least blinked at Sasuke’s directness, but Sakura’s expression merely turns a little melancholy.

“I did, although very briefly.” She acknowledges, and Kakashi sits up straight.

This is news to him. She’s told them about Shisui, however reluctant that had been, but she’s never mentioned Itachi.

“But I was one of the first on the scene when he…left.” She explains, sounding apologetic, and her smile turns sad. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Sasuke.”

Kakashi goes very, very still.

But Sasuke doesn’t even acknowledge her sympathy – instead, he frowns.

“Why did you henge into him?” he asks, and there’s an odd note of…something in his voice. Something Kakashi can’t quite decipher, but Sakura is apparently better-versed in interpreting Uchiha-speak, because she sighs.

“Half to test your mental state.” She admits, quirking a wry smile which Sasuke clearly doesn’t understand the reason for, but Sakura continues before he can question it. “And half to teach you something.”

She flashes to just in front of Sasuke, startling him, and lays a hand on his shoulder before he can step back.

“You wear your weaknesses on your sleeve, Sasuke-kun.” She tells him simply – or rather, she tells his eyebrow – her hand tightening on Sasuke’s shoulder when he visibly tenses. “Literally and figuratively.”

“Explain.” Sasuke says, but it sounds breathless and scared, and definitely not like the demand he likely intended it to be.

“Most shinobi are not good people.” Sakura replies obligingly, and Sasuke frowns at the non-sequitur. “And most are very opportunistic. If they see a weakness to exploit, a sore spot to poke, a button to push, they will. You wear yours like a target on your back.”

She tugs on the high collar of Sasuke’s shirt for emphasis, and Sasuke’s eyes widen when he no doubt realises she’s referring to the uchiwa on the back.

“I’m not saying you should renounce your heritage, or not take pride in your identity, but perhaps do so in a manner that doesn’t broadcast your sore spots to any potential enemies quite so obviously, hm?” she explains, and though her tone is light, it seems Sasuke knows better than to ignore the weight behind her words.

“So, you henged into a- into him, to…teach me?” he asks, and Kakashi can see the pain it causes Sasuke to talk about his brother.

Sakura nods, and her expression is serious, her gaze heavy, the earlier lightness gone.

“Taicho has praised your taijutsu a few times.” She offers, and Sasuke startles, clearly pleased by the praise, but suspicious as to its purpose.

Sakura doesn’t keep him waiting.

“But, in your anger at seeing just the illusion of your brother, you fought less like the Uchiha heir and Rookie of the Year and more like a drunk civilian.”

Ouch. Kakashi winces in sympathy at the way Sasuke almost flinches back at the assessment, and though it’s not wrong, his kouhai clearly doesn’t believe in mincing her words.

“Emotions are beautiful, and they can move and motivate and touch the deepest places in our hearts, but you can’t let yourself be ruled by them, Sasuke. What you feel, that’s yours – you shouldn’t let somebody else take advantage of your feelings.”

“So, not reject emotion, but…hide it?” Sasuke checks, and he looks more contemplative than angry or indignant now. “Like you and Sai do?”

That seems to be a curveball Sakura wasn’t expecting, because she takes a moment longer to reply than before.

“…I beg your pardon?”

If Sasuke were anyone else, Kakashi is willing to bet he would’ve rolled his eyes. As it is, his lip curls up the slightest bit, as if pleased with himself to have been able to surprise Sakura.

“You and Sai. You seem genuine and straightforward, but I have no idea if what you say is what you mean.” Then, Sasuke scoffs and looks away. “Kakashi does it too, but at least he’s obvious about it.”

Though he can only see her profile, Kakashi gets the distinct impression that Sakura is collecting herself. As if she doesn’t quite know what to say to that.

“I…can only speak for myself,” she begins hesitantly, and Sasuke seems surprised she’s actually addressing his accusation, “but after you’ve been a shinobi for long enough, a certain degree of subterfuge becomes second nature.”

Sasuke mulls over that for a bit, then something both curious and a little cruel flits through his eyes.

“And how long have you been a shinobi?” he presses, and Kakashi isn’t certain what he’s trying to achieve with the question. Has he found a new yardstick to measure himself by? Is he comparing Sakura to Itachi? Or is he simply hoping to get under Sakura’s skin the same way she got under his?

It seems Sakura has the same thought process, or she thinks less kindly of Sasuke than Kakashi does, because her smile turns sharp, and for the first time since their introduction, she meets Sasuke’s gaze without hesitation.

“The first time I killed a man, I was six years old.” She says blandly, the reply cruel in its simplicity, and her hand finally falls from Sasuke’s shoulder when he flinches back in surprise. “Extrapolate from that what you will.”

And then, without so much as a breeze or a puff of smoke to betray her, she disappears.

Well, Kakashi thinks as he watches Sasuke collect himself before he leaves, that could’ve gone better.

Chapter Text

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it is Shin who finds her.

“ROOT, Sakura, really?”

Shin’s voice carries over to her as he drops down into the abandoned underground training grounds they used to use regularly. One which she had apparently run off to following her ‘talk’ with Sasuke, though she doesn’t recall much after that conversation beyond the desperate need to get away.

“Thank god you don’t have a shrink ‘cause they’d have had a field day with explaining this.”

Sakura blinks, forcing her mind to focus back on the present.

It is with no small degree of surprise that she realises Shin is right – somehow, somewhere, her psyche decided that the ruins of the ROOT hideout were the safest place to retreat to.

(She ignores the little voice in the back of her head whispering that at least things made sense in ROOT.)

“You good?” Shin asks, and Sakura focuses on making her brain snap out of it and pay attention. She lifts her eyes from her fisted hands to her brother and realises that Shin has stopped about twenty feet from her and is making no move to come any closer.

She frowns, confused, and Shin sighs and gestures vaguely at her.

“I don’t really wanna get skewered.”

It’s only when she glances around, completely stumped, that she realises she’s curled up in a small half-dome made out of thorns. Not roots like usual, but dried out, thick, thorny branches which have twined around her and hidden her away from the rest of the world.

She…doesn’t remember making them.

“I…think so?” she manages after another unquantifiable amount of time, her voice hoarse. “How long have I…?”

“It’s not even sunset yet.” Shin says lightly, though his gaze is intent. He watches her watch him, then takes a few careful steps closer, telegraphing his movements as he goes, then drops into a crouch about three feet away from her. “You’re a mess, Sakura.”

Sakura bristles.

“It’s not an attack!” Shin snaps, apparently reading something on her face that’s beyond the usual mock-annoyance at his bluntness, and Sakura takes a deep breath and tries to smooth out her expression and calm her chakra. “Sai couldn’t look his teammates in the eye either in the first few weeks. It’s not unusual.”

Sakura pauses, eyeing Shin in surprise. Sai had had problems with his teammates?

“You weren’t in the Village long enough to notice at that point, but yeah.” Shin tells her, his voice a mix of wry and the insufferable ‘I-told-you-so’ tone that Ino used to use sometimes, but Sakura’s more thrown by the realisation that she hadn’t noticed Sai had been struggling.

She feels like a bad sister.

“He talked it over with the Aburame Head and the Wave mission apparently helped, but that’s not the point.” Shin huffs, pinning her with a look. “Point is, Sai saw Shisui in them, too, so whatever you’re experiencing is normal, Sakura. You’ll get over it.”

Shisui? Sakura wants to ask, but her voice refuses to cooperate. What does Shisui have to do with this?

After a long few seconds, she realises that Shin means reflections of Shisui in Naruto and Sasuke, which, now that she thinks about it, yeah. She can see it. And god does it hurt, even if she knows, rationally, that Shisui is alive. She misses the Uchiha something fierce.

“Itachi tried to kill me.” Is what she says after another minute, because it looks like Shin’s angling for an explanation. Also, she can’t very well admit that Sasuke had killed her to Shin unless she’s prepared to open the whole can of worms that is her apparent reincarnation, but this should do. “During the Massacre. He wanted to use his Sharingan on Sasuke, and I stopped him. He…didn’t take that well.”

“You’ll need to get over that if you’re planning to teach the kid.” Shin says frankly, and Sakura shoots him a glare because she’s aware, thanks. Shin doesn’t seem in the slightest fazed by her ire, and he also apparently used up all his capacity to be considerate, because he adds, “You’ll also need to listen to me and use the time away from ANBU to brush up on your basic skills because you’ve gotten careless.”

He jerks his chin at the bandage still around her wrist, the reference self-explanatory.

“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’ll stab you.” Sakura threatens, distantly disturbed to find that she means it, and certain that whatever expression is on her face is rather far from friendly.

“I’d like to see you try.” Shin shoots back with a sharp, humourless smile, his gaze cold. “And I don’t need to say shit; you know I was right.”

“I’m not leaving ANBU.” Sakura snaps, and she feels the thorns around her stir. “Whatever your agenda, you can forget it.”

“My ‘agenda’ is that you survive, you brat.” Shin seethes, and Sakura’s not sure whether she’s more shocked by the vehemence or the insult. “You’re making that goal rather difficult.”

Sakura feels her irritation spike, and with it, one of the thorns that has been slowly twining around her shoots out at Shin, tip sharper than steel and aimed right at his chest.

Shin throws himself back, putting distance between him and Sakura, but the branch doesn’t slow, doesn’t stop, and Shin slips-!

“Katon: Hosenka!”

It’s not Shin’s voice that shouts the technique, and Sakura’s too shocked to react. She can only watch, frozen, unable to speak, unable to do anything but stare in horror as the fire incinerates the thorned branch inches before it can touch Shin.

She doesn’t notice that Shin relocate, back on his feet and a safe distance away, standing between her and Sai. Sai, who must’ve been the one to produce the fire jutsu. Sai, whose eyes are wide, one of his tracking mice perched on his shoulder.

For a moment, nobody speaks.

“I- I’m sorry-!” Sakura tries, choking on her breath, the horrifying realisation of what she’d almost done slowly sinking in.

“You’re a mess, Sakura.” Shin repeats, sharper than before, also breathing hard. “Sort your fucking head out.”