Archive of Our Own

Sudden

Sasuke-kun left her on a bench.

Sakura didn’t remember it and didn’t come to on a bench, but Godaime-sama hardly had a reason to lie to a shivering genin dragged into her office by a disgruntled chunin in the wee hours of pre-dawn. It was the chunin who'd found her on the bench and brought her to the hospital because apparently, she was unresponsive. Sakura blinked herself awake to the sound of an angry nurse berating her would-be-saviour about chakra blockers and wasting the medical staff’s precious time in the wake of the invasion with utter nonsense. Humiliated and angry, the chunin blamed Sakura for whatever bothered him, and that’s how she found herself in the freshly inaugurated fifth Hokage's office.

Senju Tsunade was intimidating in a way no one else was, or ever will be.

She was also the only person Sakura had ever seen heavily drunk minutes into the dawning of the sun.

“So you found Pinkie here passed out on a bench by the main gate?” Godaime-sama demanded in a growl. Her right hand pinched the bridge of her nose, her left one waved a sake cup filled to the brim in Sakura’s general direction. Two daring drops sloshed out and paved the way down the back of her pale hand before staining the paperwork the Godaime was using as an armrest. “What possessed you to think it’s important enough to bother me with?”

Sakura resisted the urge to flinch at the reminder of how insignificant she was.

‘Annoying,’ Sasuke-kun had called her. Repeatedly.

“Not passed out, knocked out and chakra blocked, Tsunade-sama,” the black-haired woman who stood by the Godaime’s table said through her teeth, openly irritated. “Put the alcohol down, you’ve had about enough.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Shizune,” Godaime-sama snapped. She slammed her sake cup down so hard, half the content spilt. Then her light brown eyes narrowed on Sakura, and she scowled. Clearly, the woman was unimpressed, unamused and not entirely convinced she should be interested. “Well? Who’d chakra block you and why?”

It took Sakura three seconds to calculate the pros and cons of lying versus being truthful in front of the pissed-off kunoichi who, rumours said, could level the whole village with one swing of her fist. She only hesitated at all because her memory was somewhat foggy, likely a side effect of her main chakra ways being locked harshly by an inexperienced hand. That Sasuke-kun was the one who’s done it made the offence worse, somehow. Knocking her out would’ve been enough, she couldn't ever stop him. Bu the chose to all but cut off the chakra supply connecting her brain and spine. He could’ve caused irreparable damage. He could’ve destroyed Sakura’s shinobi career before it even started.

He could’ve ruined her life.

All she ever did was try to get him to like her. For months she hadn’t even thought about making any romantic move at all, she could tell those made him uncomfortable quickly enough. Nowadays Sakura honestly and genuinely only wanted his friendship, and Sasuke-kun repaid her by doing the unthinkable.

“Uchiha Sasuke abandoned Konoha.” Sakura was rather proud that her voice didn’t shake, and she managed to maintain eye contact with the Godaime despite wanting to shrivel up and possibly die under the strength of the woman’s glare. “I encountered him at the gates an hour past sundown yesterday and tried to talk him out of it.”

“You tried to talk to a possible traitor?” Godaime-sama snarked, somehow even less impressed than minutes before.

“I can’t take him in a fight,” Sakura admitted and almost looked down. It hurt, but it was an indisputable fact. Unlike Naruto, she didn’t improve much since their graduation and even with Sasuke-kun still injured she wouldn’t have been able to land a single punch on him. “I did send several chakra signals, but no one came.”

She did, and her chakra control was advanced enough that Sasuke-kun didn’t notice.

No one came.

“You were stalling,” Godaime-sama hummed. “So, the last Uchiha’s hauled ass. Our resources are stretched thin, we can’t spare hunter-nin for him. You, blockhead,” she snapped her fingers at the chunin who’d found Sakura. “Go get me Nara Shikamaru. Shizune, get Hatake in my office, now.”

Sakura watched, amazed and a little terrified, as people started moving according to the Fifth’s orders. The chunin who’d found her sprinted out. The woman called Shizune poked her head out of the office and delegated to the ANBU standing guard. Several people came in and then fled by the time Shikamaru was unceremoniously thrown inside, dressed in a brand-new chunin vest and looking very much like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Sakura wasn’t surprised he’d been promoted, nor that he didn't like it.

She plastered herself against the wall, forgotten and unnoticed, and watched as Naruto stormed into the office, shrieking that ‘Teme disappeared’ and they had to do something about it, just minutes after Godaime-sama ordered Shikamaru to lead his first search and rescue. With Sakura’s chakra sluggish and muted in her veins and her mouth shut tight, even Naruto didn’t pay her any attention, so she continued to look. Just observe and do nothing when Chouji, then Kiba, followed by the scowling Neji and a hesitant Hinata arrived, accepted Shikamaru’s leadership and then promptly left.

She was still there, watching, when hours later a masked ANBU dropped in through the window and announced in a toneless voice that Hatake Kakashi was indisposed still after his encounter with Uchiha Itachi. When that encounter even happened way anyone's guess, as well as his chances of ever coming out of his indisposed state.

“Fuck!”

The Fifth broke her heavy desk in half with a slap of her hand and proceeded to throw her empty sake bottle out of the open window. “This village’s gone to shit!”

“Tsunade-sama!” Shizune hissed. “There’s a child here!”

“What?” Godaime-sama barked and turned to gape at Sakura, who was still there, frozen in place with the knowledge that not only had one of her teammates deserted the village, but her teacher might very well depart in a more permanent manner soon. She was unable to move at all, even if she wanted to, and currently she didn't have enough brain left to want anything. “Didn’t I dismiss you?”

Sakura’s throat seized in surprise at the address, and she coughed, before shaking her head repeatedly.

When the Godaime continue to stare at her, Sakura looked at her feet.

“No, you didn’t, Godaime-sama.”

“Well, get out now.” the woman ordered. “You did your part, go waste space elsewhere.”

“No.”

Shizune dropped the pile of paperwork she was organizing.

Godaime-sama’s head whipped back so fast; her neck cracked.

Sakura slapped both hands against her mouth and cursed herself.

“What did you just say?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, or something of the sort.

Sakura peeled her hands off her face, cleared her throat again and tried to centre herself.

“No,” she repeated. “Respectfully, Godaime-sama.”

“Ha!” the woman huffed. “Then at least make yourself useful. Sort those out!” she pointed at a stack of haphazardly pilled scrolls under the window. “No clearance needed for them.”

“Yes, Godaime-sama!”

Sakura sorted the scrolls; a mess of medical texts, travel guides and dictionaries until the sun set fully and only left when she almost fell asleep on top of a particularly dusty one. She came back at sunrise and kept at it, under Shizune’s unsure smile and the Godaime’s increasingly amused look. By midday, the pile was gone, replaced with neatly organized shelves, stacked not only according to the subject but also alphabetically within it. Before Sakura could turn to blink at her Hokage, the woman pointed at another disorganized shelving unit across the room, this time a collection of public correspondence and low-ranked publicly-accessible mission reports that needed to be organized before being archived.

Sakura got to it.

Two days later, Sakura was helping Shizune sift through Tsunade-sama’s paperwork when the report came: Nara Shikamaru’s mission was a failure. Two were in critical condition, one was lightly injured, and two were unharmed.

Uchiha Sasuke was labelled a missing-nin within two minutes.

Sakura was dragged into the hospital, to observe Tsunade-sama in her element. She never imagined what the insides of a person looked like, nor did she have reason to think her first glimpse of guts would belong to Hinata - sweet, kind Hinata, passed out from blood loss and severe internal damage, just days after her horrible injuries during the invasion.

The following day, Uzumaki Naruto was put on probation for attempting to assault his Hokage, and somehow Haruno Sakura became Senju Tsunade’s second apprentice.

Sakura wasn’t interested in, or even curious about, becoming an iryo-nin. Anatomy, biology, parasitology, pharmacology, psychology and immunology – not one book out of the endless list Tsunade-sama had ordered her to memorize sparked the tiniest bit of passion in her. Botany and chemistry were similarly boring, and when she had to actively observe any medical procedure in action it made her want to barf.

Often enough she did.

What made the whole thing worse was that the application of the techniques came to her so naturally, so easily, it was probably insulting to every medic who had to watch Sakura steadily make progress while openly not caring or actively trying to.

Tsunade-sama found the whole thing hilarious, most likely because she was a bitter sadist.

“I don’t understand why you took me on, Godaime-sama.” Sakura refused to acknowledge the apprenticeship aloud. She’d rejected it, politely, when Shizune told her the news. Then she blatantly refused it and even tried to play hooky and ran away twice before realising her opinion meant nothing.

Sakura wanted to train herself into a kunoichi strong enough so that she could go get Sasuke-kun back. The Hokage, however, decided she’d be of better use in the medical corps and had no qualms about forcing the issue.

Sakura made a point out of being as politely ungrateful as she could. Tsunade-sama either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Probably the latter.

“You’ve got potential,” Tsunade-sama said over her perpetually growing stack of papers.

Shizune sniffed, either in agreement or tacit disagreement.

“I don’t want to be a healer!” Sakura said, a little louder than ever, significantly bolder than before. “I don’t care about making people feel better, or saving lives, or whatever! I want to fight! I want to be strong, and equal to my teammates, and-“

“What teammates?”

Sakura choked on her next words and blinked uncomprehendingly at the Hokage.

“What teammates?” Tsunade-sama repeated. “You don’t have any.”

“I’m on Team 7 –“

“Disbanded,” Tsunade-sama said in such a bored tone, it might’ve been an age-old fact. “Uchiha’s missing, Uzumaki’s not showing signs of behaving himself and will probably stay off the active roster for a long time, when Hatake's awake he's wasted on anything below an A-rank, and I am not in the habit of wasting resources. So I repeat, Haruno. What teammates?”

“Sasuke-kun’s going to come back –“

“Perhaps.” Tsunade-sama levelled Sakura with a cold look for a moment before sighing. “Look, kid. I’m going to be honest with you. It doesn’t matter if you, the Uzumaki brat, or anyone else brings Uchiha back. Heck, it makes no difference even if he voluntarily returns on his own. The minute Uchiha Sasuke steps back into Konoha he’ll be arrested and tried for treason and desertion. His chakra will most likely be permanently bound, depending on the circumstances of his return, and he will never again serve Konoha as anything other than a token spectator on the Clan Council.”

Sakura shook her head and opened her mouth to argue, but Tsunade-sama cut across her harshly.

“That’s the best-case scenario. Far more likely is that he’s going to do something he shouldn’t have, considering it’s Orochimaru he went after. The minute he does, there’s going to be a bounty on his head. Once he earns a bounty he’s dead to us.” Tsunade-sama’s mouth twisted into a downturned scowl and she glared at something above Sakura’s head. Probably the portraits of her predecessors. “The next time you meet Uchiha Sasuke you’re going to have orders to kill the stain on Konoha’s honour.”

“Not if you don’t give the orders,” Sakura said through her teeth.

“Ah, that’s the thing, though. I already did,” Tsunade-sama said. “As someone whose ex-teammate is an internationally wanted nuke-nin, and someone who once abandoned Konoha herself, I have no intention of playing the same guessing game old Sarutobi did. I was brought back to Konoha against my will because the village needed a Kage. I accepted the hat, and though I genuinely hate every second I have to sit in this damn chair I will not slack in or half-ass my duty. We have a rare opportunity of pressing our advantage despite having barely clawed our way out of destruction, and I won’t miss it. My Konoha is not going to be fucked with by half-baked ploys of invasion,” Tsunade-sama hissed, her voice like iron, and emphasized the point by nodding sharply. “To do that, the reigns need to be tightened up. That means discipline, respect and camaraderie.”

“You’re abandoning Sasuke-kun to Orochimaru!” Sakura cried, defiant.

“He abandoned the village,” Tsunade-sama barked. “And he abandoned you, fully unconscious and chakra locked, on a goddamn bench barely a week after the battle. Take off your pink crush goggles and look at your reality, girl. I’m giving you a chance to be worth the rice it takes to feed you. Do you think there’s a spare instructor that can teach you out there? There’re no team vacancies. We barely have enough jonin to make enough to survive. Being a medic is your last chance out of spending your life as a career genin unless you’d like to hand in your hitai-ate and return to the civilian sector.”

“That’s a lie!” Sakura argued desperately.

“Fine, go one then!” Tsunade-sama roared. “Be my guest. But don’t come crying when you fail.”

Sakura stormed out of the office and swore she’d prove Senju Tsunade wrong.

A month later, after failing to find a single shinobi willing to train or even spar with her, Sakura returned to the Hokage tower. She still wasn’t sure if she was there to resign as a ninja or beg for Godaime’s forgiveness. Both hurt her pride. Both hammered home the fact she was utterly useless and worth nothing on her own. At least she wasn't crying.

As it happened, Tsunade-sama was called for a complex invasive procedure the minute Sakura stepped onto the top floor, and once again she found herself being dragged into one of the hospital’s surgery rooms. This time, though, Sakura automatically scrubbed down along with everyone else and instead of gaping in horror in the corner, she stood by Tsunade-sama’s elbow and handed her whatever tool she required without as much as a blink.

Her apprenticeship resumed without tears, but empty of any friendliness that might’ve been present before. Shizune no longer offered to help when Sakura struggled with the texts. Tsunade-sama demanded thrice the amount of dedication she did before. The medical staff at the hospital decided as one to ignore Sakura’s existence completely.

Despite all this, medical jutsu came to her as naturally and easily as breathing, and Sakura’s near-perfect chakra control continued to improve. She’d chosen a career in medicine; Sakura was nothing if not stubborn when she wanted something, and now she wanted to finish her studies as quickly and thoroughly as she could if only to never have to breathe in the same space as her respected Godaime-sama ever again.

While Sakura was slaving away in the hospital, buried in books, stitching cuts and brewing antidotes, Kakashi-sensei woke up. As soon as he was deemed fit, which was immediate since he suffered no physical harm, he’d been sent out on a prolonged A-Rank outside Konoha and ordered to depart post-haste. Sakura had missed seeing him off by three measly minutes.

Four months after Sasuke-kun left, Naruto was finally released from his probation but only to embark on a training trip with Jiraiya the Sanin, who was supposedly a respected S-class shinobi, but whom Tsunade-sama labelled a perverted hedgehog with a penchant for shit literature. Though Sakura disliked the Godaime on a personal level, she had a healthy dose of respect for the woman’s abilities and intellect, hence she took her words seriously and tried to keep herself as far away from the man as possible. She’s still pulled an all-nighter to finish her designated studies so that she could freely see Naruto off.

He'd promised to come back soon with Sasuke-kun.

Sakura, with Tsunade-sama’s words permanently ringing in her ears, told him to come back in one piece first.

To their right, Tsunade-sama ordered Jiraiya-sama to do the same thing and emphasized it with a harsh hit to the head, when the man made a disgusting comment about her chest.

As they watched them go, Sakura had the brief thought that in some ways, the Godaime and her were a little bit similar.

“Is that why you apprenticed me?” she asked later when her hands were holding up layers of fat over a man’s stomach to make way for Tsunade-sama. “Do I remind you of your team?”

“Pfft, don’t compliment yourself,” Tsunade-sama huffed. “Unlike you, when I was thirteen I was a chunin and neck-deep in a war.”

“I’m fourteen,” Sakura muttered.

“Same difference,” Tsunade-sama said. “Now do you see this? This hematoma he’s got on his spleen? That’s potentially fatal. He’s lucky Shizune noticed it before it got worse, or infected – which is rare but can happen.”

Sakura nodded.

“I’m going to fix it. I want you to focus on my chakra. Try to follow what I do and how I’m interacting with his tissue. Keep your chakra suppressed, we don’t want interferences.”

“Yes, Godaime-sama.”

“Note that if the patient was a civilian, we would have to limit the use of chakra in the procedure and rely on invasive surgery,” Tsunade-sama lectured. “See here? Because of the mystic hand, we can pull the blood back into the ruptures vessels and encourage healing. The area affected by the bruising will remain tender for a few days, but it will pass quickly. If we were relying on surgery, what would happen?”

“We’d have to drain it,” Sakura said hesitantly. “It would take about a month to fully heal, but reduction and improvement should occur within forty-eight hours.”

“Very good, Pinkie,” Tsunade-sama smirked encouragingly, and Sakura forcefully suppressed a spike of pride. “You get to fix him up after I’m done.”

As if stitching up multiple layers of fat, muscle and skin was any sort of prize.

Sakura did it anyway, and she did it well – not even a single mark left behind. For her success, Tsunade-sama saw fit to saddle her with her very first night shift.

By the time another two months passed, Sakura got used to Tsunade-sama’s brand of mentoring and was graduating from utter boredom to a sense of healthy apathy regarding anything medical. After all, you didn’t have to love your job to make a living; her parents were prime examples of that, and so was Ino’s family – everybody knew her father’s true passion was the flower shop, and not whatever he did in T&I. There were, however, some perks to being part of the hospital staff, particularly when the annual health exams rolled around.

Sakura saw the list first, so she nabbed an early slot, determined to get the whole thing over and done with as quickly as she could. She arrived well before her appointment, prepared all her paperwork and documents ahead of time and even went the extra mile to weigh and measure herself - all so she could be done as quickly as possible, with as little interaction with another unpleasant medic who felt threatened by a bloody teenager's success.

“Okay, Haruno-san,” Yamada-sensei drawled as Sakura hopped onto the examination bed and blinked at her expectantly. The older medic never spoke to her before, but Sakura knew that she, like many others, wasn’t all that fond of the lucky upstart who apparently had all the talent but none of the respect for their profession. After all, she'd had to cover three of Yamada-sensei's shifts in the past week due to some unexpected 'emergency'. Still, the woman was impeccably professional when necessary. “Let’s get started. I’m going to run a diagnostic, and then we’ll measure your height and weight before taking some blood for lab, okay?”

“Yes, Yamada-sensei. I have my weight and height right here, from fifteen minutes ago.”

"That you do."

A diagnostic chakra scan never felt particularly good, but now that Sakura knew how to perform one the sensation was more strange than offensive. She followed the foreign force on its way all over her body and took note of what the experienced doctor focused on or what she dismissed quickly. Yamada-sensei cycled through Sakura’s right elbow twice, making sure it healed properly from the break she suffered during the chunin exam. The tiny old scar behind her left hip was ignored altogether. When Yamada-sensei’s chakra reached Sakura’s abdomen it stopped, expanded and then left Sakura’s body altogether.

“Yamada-sensei?” Sakura asked.

The woman blinked her dull black eyes at her for a moment before hurrying back to the desk, where she left Sakura’s file, and promptly leafing through it.

“You recently turned fourteen, right?” Yamada-sensei asked.

“Yeah,” Sakura said. "SIx months ago."

“It says here that during last year’s medical exams, you’ve yet to get your period. Did you have it since?”

“My period?” Sakura asked with a frown. “Um, just one time.”

“When?”

“Err, I’m not sure. It wasn’t even very strong or anything, it mostly hurt and was a bit spotty –“

“When, Haruno-san?” Yamada-sensei snapped.

“Before the chunin exams.”

“Wait here,” Yamada-sensei ordered.

Sakura opened her mouth to acquiesce to the strange demand, but the woman was already out the door, her long brown braid swishing behind her just before it slammed shut. Sakura frowned, muttered about rudeness under her breath, and promptly hopped off the bed to go snoop through the general healthcare booklet strategically placed on a little shelf by the window. She was halfway through when the door was thrown open and Yamada-sensei hurried back inside, followed by Shizune and immediately after her Tsunade-sama.

All three women were paler than Sakura remembered them being.

“Godaime-sama?” Sakura squeaked.

“Be quiet and get back on the bed,” Tsunade-sama ordered.

Sakura did as she was told and sat quietly while Shizune, and then Tsunade-sama, each performed a diagnostic scan of their own over her, both pausing at her abdomen exactly like Yamada-sensei did before withdrawing.

“Seal the room,” Tsunade-sama snarled, and Yamada-sensei hurriedly activated the permanent mark under the doctor’s desk which would guarantee the patient’s privacy.

“What’s happening?” Sakura asked worriedly. “Is something wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, precisely, Sakura-san,” Shizune said softly, a lot nicer than she had been in a very long time.

“Not really,” Yamada-sensei murmured simultaneously, clearly uncomfortable.

“Zip it,” Tsunade-sama snapped at both and frowned down at Sakura darkly. “You. Are you sexually active?”

It took Sakura a moment to understand what she was asked.

“What?” she shrieked, feeling the blood rush to her face. “No!”

“Really?” Tsunade-sama demanded. “Not even once? With anyone? Like your precious Sasuke-kun?”

“I’m fourteen!” Sakura almost hissed, embarrassed and furious. “No!”

To her consternation, the answer only seemed to make Tsunade-sama angrier.

“You’re absolutely sure you’ve never done anything?” the woman demanded. “No foggy memories, blank periods, odd dreams?”

“I – no.” Sakura shrunk in her seat as a faint idea blossomed in her head. She discarded it as quickly as she could and stared up at her unwanted mentor. “Never, Godaime-sama. I swear.”

Tsunade-sama abruptly turned around, walked towards the closest wall and put her fist through it. The fact the hole was a round, perfect little circle, and the entire wall didn’t crumble was the only testament to the fact the woman was holding herself back.

“Yamada, I want a full diagnostic with as accurate a timeline as you can get.”

“Yes, Godaime-sama!”

“Shizune,” Tsunade-sama turned around and put her hands on her hips. “Order Hatake to get back here. If this happened under his watch –“

“What happened?” Sakura demanded, growing frantic.

“Yes, Tsunade-sama,” Shizune said simultaneously and immediately left the room, presumable to retrieve Kakashi-sensei from whatever mission he was on.

Tsunade-sama waited until the door closed and the privacy seal was back up before she came to stand before Sakura again. In an uncharacteristic and frankly bizarre display of both gentleness and affection, the woman put one hand on Sakura’s shoulder and squeezed.

“You’re pregnant,” Tsunade-sama said, not beating around the bush. “We’re going to find out who did this to you, Sakura. Whatever you decide to do – with the foetus, with the bastard who did it – I’ll get it done. No matter what. You’re not alone, you hear?”

Sakura didn’t hear, not really. But the hand on her shoulder never left, even when Yamada-sensei proceeded with a full diagnostic scan and ran off to get the results analysed and written down. Even when, as soon as the door closed behind the medic, Sakura bent over and threw up all over the floor, and the Godaime's feet.

It made her feel less cold.

Sakura never saw Kakashi-sensei as furious as she did when he barged into her hospital room – a private one, in a traditionally ANBU-designated wing for utmost privacy. Tsunade-sama was not kidding when she said she’d do whatever Sakura wanted. He took one look at her, half-buried under a blanket Shizune procured and wrapped her in, and promptly exited the room. Sakura heard him break something in the hall, or maybe several things, before Kakashi-sensei reappeared, somewhat calmer but no less haggard looking.

“Sakura,” he said gravely, and she flinched. “I’m going to find who did this, and I’m going to kill him.”

“Okay,” Sakura said quietly.

She didn’t know what else to say.

Three days prior, she found out that she was twenty-four weeks pregnant. The date of conception was theorized to be around the night Sasuke-kun ran away. Sakura didn’t know when exactly it happened, whoever did it left no marks behind, and she wasn’t in any pain. Her stomach was as flat as ever, her chest seemed even more so. Hell, if not for the baby growing in her right now, she never would’ve known.

There shouldn’t have been a baby, according to Shizune The medic who’d unblocked Sakura’s chakra should’ve immediately followed with a complete diagnostic scan and preventative measures. Because if the woman had done it, she would’ve immediately noticed whatever remains of foreign DNA were left in Sakura’s –

In her.

Tsunade-sama had sacked the medic after a very public screaming dress down about unprofessional conduct, lax attitudes and laziness. The full staff of the hospital had to undergo basic training, from scratch. All ranks and roles were being re-evaluated. Shizune was overseeing the whole affair and she was merciless about it. Both the Godaime and her first apprentice had taken up arms to make sure nothing of the sort ever happened again, while simultaneously being personally infuriated on Sakura’s behalf.

Unfortunately, that did little to change Sakura’s reality.

She was pregnant, at fourteen. If she decided to keep it, she’d be giving birth at fourteen. If she got rid of it, she might never have another one. Sakura’s parents had struggled for almost eight years to have her. After the thorough examination Tsunade-sama performed once Yamada-sensei’s scan results came in, Sakura found out she’d not only inherited her mother’s polycystic ovaries but also her father’s low fertility. With the pregnancy almost past the second trimester now, getting an abortion would mean inducing premature labour. That sort of procedure left a mark. If it could be done via chakra-termination, a pill or even a scrapping procedure – Sakura would’ve already gotten through with it. But to go through the experience of birthing?

To risk never having another child ever again?

It frightened her.

She was fourteen, much too young to ever think about such things, but simultaneously she came from a mostly civilian, upper-middle-class background. In the circles of Sakura’s family and their close friends, girls her age were getting betrothed and engaged. In some cases, when the families didn’t have heirs or were known to struggle with fertility, girls her age were married off. Her own mother had married at fifteen.

Sakura’s parents expected her to withdraw from being a kunoichi before she turned twenty. When she was back in the academy, they were entertaining several possible betrothals that were put on hold only because Sakura did in fact, graduate and due to her vehement opposition. Recently, with her becoming a medic, her parents had begun to tentatively test the waters regarding early marriage again.

But now she was pregnant. Her parents wouldn’t be able to marry her off, even if they want to. Not if she gives birth and has a kid from an unknown father, nor if she aborts and ruins her already abysmal reproductive organs further. Sakura always wanted to be a wife and a mother. Granted, she’d fantasized about starting a family with Sasuke-kun and being the Uchiha Matriarch, but she’d known, deep down, that it wasn’t likely. She was mostly willing to accept a match made by her parents if she was still single at eighteen.

She wasn’t good at being a kunoichi, so she reckoned she might as well make an amazing wife and excellent mother.

Now, she might not even have that. Just her talent for healing.

She hated it.

“Sakura,” Kakashi-sensei said sternly.

Sakura started. She didn’t even notice she was staring at nothing and tearing up again.

“Sakura,” Kakashi-sensei repeated. He seemed to wilt before her eyes, uncomfortable, awkward and terrified all at once. “You–you’re not alone, okay?”

Why did everybody keep telling that?

“And no matter what, it’s not your fault.”

She didn’t think it was.

“If anything – it’s mine.”

That was new, and it made Sakura look at him for the first time, confused and slightly disturbed. Why would what happened to her be Kakashi-sensei’s fault? Wasn’t he in a medically induced coma?

“You are – were – my student. It was my responsibility to take care of you, to teach you, properly.” Kakashi-sensei couldn’t look at her, which wasn’t remarkably unusual but for the first time it wasn’t offending her. Rather, Sakura felt like she was pitying him, for whatever reason. “I didn’t. I failed you. If I’d done my job, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

“No offence, Kakashi-sensei, but even if you did your best I wouldn’t have been able to win against Sasuke-kun.”

That was the wrong thing to say because Kakashi-sensei paled so quickly that it was a miracle he didn’t collapse where he stood. Only his gleaming eye hinted that he was angry again, that and the thin thread of killing intent spreading through the room.

“Err, Kakashi-sensei –“

Shizune poked her head through the door, cutting Sakura off, and looked at the two of them for a moment before settling her eyes on Kakashi-sensei and nodding sharply.

It must’ve meant something because he immediately rushed out while Shizune walked inside, shut the door behind her and approached Sakura.

The much older woman took a seat on the bed, foregoing the chair, and pulled out a small paper tag inscribed with a privacy seal. Sakura had grown quite familiar with those in the last few days, so she didn’t even flinch when Shizune activated it and the foreign chakra swept through the room, ensuring there would be no eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Sakura-chan,”  Shizune said softly. The suffix was a new addition, one Sakura wasn’t sure she liked but couldn’t vocally disapprove of when it came accompanied by genuine care and kindness. The change in attitude was both welcome and unwanted; she was used to Shizune disliking her, for the attitude, the ungratefulness, the disrespect. She'd earned all of it. It was odd, being treated like this all of a sudden.

“Shizune-san,” Sakura greeted quietly.

“We found him.” Whether Shizune had picked up Tsunade-sama’s frankness or came by it naturally, Sakura didn’t know but she appreciated it all the same. “Tsunade-sama has him apprehended, and –“

“Who?” Sakura choked.

“Are you sure you want to –“

“Who did this to me?” she screeched. Unbidden, angry tears welled up and then slid down her cheeks.

“Suzuyama Ren,” Shizune said stoically, though the derision was visible on her face. “He’s the chunin who found you.”

Found her on the bench. Where she was left unconscious and defenceless by a teammate she trusted, a boy she wanted to befriend, a boy who was her first love. A boy who’d dumped her there and then she –

She was raped.

“It’s not my fault,” Sakura said forcefully, a mantra she’d been repeating.

“Goodness – no! Sakura-chan, it’s not your fault!” Shizune echoed, forcefully. “It’s that sick pervert’s fault –“

“And Sasuke,” Sakura said, a little disbelieving but rapidly growing angry. “It’s that pervert and it’s Sasuke. He left me there! He – he knocked me unconscious and bound my chakra –“

“Suzuyama bound your chakra,” Shizune corrected gently.

Sakura swallowed and digested the information.

It changed little, overall.

Sasuke had left her unconscious, and Sakura was one of the worst genin skill-wise in the village. She wouldn’t have been able to fight anyone off, let alone a chunin, even if her chakra hadn’t been bound. Sure, Sasuke couldn’t have known what would happen. He couldn’t have predicted that a disgusting bastard of a freak would stumble upon her and decide to have his way with an unconscious preteen, out in the open.

But Konoha had just been invaded. Their forces were stretched to the point of fraying. Enemies were nosing their borders still, and he just – he left her there. They’d known each other since they were six, they’d been classmates for four years and teammates for six months, and he just left her there.

“It’s Sasuke’s fault,” Sakura repeated with conviction and passion and all the hurt she felt. She didn’t care if it was true or not; it didn’t matter if the accusation made sense, if she was justified or if there would be consequences. She blamed him. Maybe not as much as she did the offender, but at least in part, and that was enough to kill any piece of affection she ever had for Uchiha Sasuke.

Because he really did ruin her life.

“You’re right,” Shizune agreed, and the conviction in her voice made Sakura’s anger lessen a little. “What do you want to do now, Sakura-chan?”

“To do?” Sakura shrugged. “I don’t know. What if I don’t have another one? What if this is it and I –“

“About that bastard,” Shizune clarified. “Let’s deal with that first.”

“Oh.” Sakura blinked. Then she thought about it. About how furious Kakashi-sensei was. About how Tsunade-sama had been practically foaming at the mouth to get her hands on that man. It wasn’t a difficult decision, really. “I don’t care. Godaime-sama and Kakashi-sensei can decide.”

Shizune smiled at her for the first time, that day.

It was bloodthirsty to the extreme.

In many ways, Sakura was lucky.

Her pregnancy wasn’t visible from the outside. Even at approaching the eight-month mark, she looked bloated at most, and the sudden swelling of her chest was easily explained away as puberty. Other than Kakashi-sensei, Shizune-senpai, Tsunade-sama and Yamada-sensei, who were under oath and seal to keep their mouths shut, it was her secret to keep.

Sakura’s parents had reacted poorly – not to the situation, but to Sakura’s eventual decision to keep the child, due to her fear of ending up infertile. They didn’t disown or excommunicate her, but they had asked her to move out, probably believing that she’d find it difficult and cave, but Sakura was stubborn. Stubborn, a working and learning medic with a steady income, and as a fourteen-year-old genin – a legal adult.

She rented a tiny studio apartment in the older part of the shinobi neighbourhoods of the village. It was cheap because the shinobi areas didn’t have the same amenities that the civilian sector did, they were all about functionality. Plus the building was old, at least thirty years. The space was well taken care of, and the landlord was a retired teacher from the academy, who lived in a different neighbourhood altogether and honestly didn’t care what Sakura did to the place as long as she returned it in the pristine condition she’d gotten it.

Sakura worked and studied in the hospital for a full eight hours every day, from eight to four, and then worked an additional four hours from six to ten at an emergency clinic between the shinobi and civilian areas. Her pay check from both jobs was enough to pay her rent and bills, get decent groceries and a few pieces of second-hand furniture she decided were worth the money, like a traditional kotatsu table that fit just right in the middle of her space, between her compact kitchen and her designated sleeping corner.

She was really, really lucky.

But she was fourteen and she went into labour too early because her body just couldn't take it. She was too thin and too small, lost too much blood and fading in and out of consciousness by the time the midwife who admitted her realised the situation wasn’t good and bothered to notify someone higher up.

Tsunade-sama stormed into the ward and just about dragged both Sakura and her baby back from the brink of death by their equally pink hair. Sakura’s son, too small, too pale, was cut out of her by the Godaime herself, his pink hair stained with his mother’s blood and tiny fists shaking in outrage. Tsunade-sama still managed to threaten every last member of the horrified midwife’s family while splitting Sakura open and then putting her back together, without losing a beat.

As Tsunade-sama focused on Sakura, Shizune-senpai handled the new-born boy: cleaned him, wrapped him up, performed a careful scan and declared him as healthy as can be despite his early arrival. She gave him to Sakura, taught her how to hold him and hurried to get a bottle of formula when it became clear the baby had no interest in latching onto Sakura’s chest.

“Well,” Tsunade-sama said after the midwife was scared out of the room, the formula procured, and the new-born expertly fed and burped by a softly grinning Shizune-senpai. “Congratulations, Sakura.”

Sakura nodded; her eyes glued to her sleeping son.

She hated the man who put him in her. She never even bothered to find out what happened to him. She was terrified of their future, unequipped to handle it but willing to do her best. She was unhappy and unsatisfied with her lot in life because she absolutely didn’t deserve this, no one did. But she loved him, this tiny baby that came out of her in such a horrible, violent way. She loved him so much that it welled up inside her like a balloon that smothered everything else. He had her pink hair, and even now his features looked like a miniature of hers. He was mostly her, and he was only hers, and Sakura loved him more than she ever thought she would or could or ever will love anyone or anything.

And she nearly died, and he almost did too. They would’ve if it hadn’t been for Tsunade-sama.

Tsunade-sama and her medical arts that she’d spent months trying to drill into Sakura’s head.

“You saved us,” Sakura said softly. “I was an ungrateful brat, and you saved us anyway.”

“A medic saves lives until their heart stops beating,” Tsunade-sama said with a shrug as if it was nothing.

“Saves lives,” Sakura repeated hollowly. She managed to tear her eyes away from her sleeping baby and focused on Tsunade-sama and Shizune-senpai. They sat by her bedside, monitoring their vitals and guaranteeing their safety. She’d never felt so thankful in her life. “I don’t know about shinobi lives or even people in general, but I… I want to save children.”

“Children are our future,” Tsunade-sama said sagely.

Sakura’s son wheezed and three pairs of eyes turned to look at him, all smitten.

“Then I guess I want to protect our future,” Sakura said firmly. “Thank you for saving us, Tsunade-shishou.”

“Took you long enough,” Tsunade-sama huffed, but there wasn’t any heat to it. She was still looking at the sleeping baby, something a lot like longing in her eyes, mixed with a smidge of humour. “I can’t believe he’s got pink hair. Boy’s going to be bullied.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Shizune-senpai said cheerfully, and Sakura had spent enough time around her to know the threat was there and very real. “Have you thought of a name yet, Sakura-chan?”

“Souta,” Sakura said.

“Well, he did come suddenly, that’s for sure,” Tsunade-sama grunted, unimpressed. “Guess it’s as good a name as any.”

“Haruno Souta,” Shizune-senpai hummed. “Welcome to Konoha, little one.”

“Your Obaa-chan’s gonna keep it safe for you,” Sakura said, feeling a little brave and a lot mischievous.

Tsunade-sama fell out of her chair, choking on her spit and flailing her arms.

Shizune-senpai cackled, a little maniacally, and wondered if that made her an aunt. When Sakura nodded solemnly, she joined the flabbergasted Godaime on the floor.

Two days later, Sakura and Souta were discharged and made it home in record time, hidden under a henge and a genjutsu. Sakura wasn’t ashamed of her son, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be the subject of gossip or to deal with nosy neighbours. She’d successfully put Souta down on their shared bed, swaddled like a roll and snoozing contentedly when there was a knock on her door.

“Where’s our grandchild?!” Sakura’s mother hurried inside as soon as Sakura opened the door while her father lingered, watching her carefully and checking for any visible strain.

“I’m all right,” Sakura murmured.

“Nonsense,” he growled and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my flower.”

“Oh, he’s got your hair!” her mother gasped dramatically. “It’s a boy, right? You put him in a little blue cap!”

“Yeah. Mum, dad, meet Haruno Souta.”

“A boy!”

In the future Sakura would be able to mark that exact moment as the time when she’d officially been demoted to second place in the parents’ world. Not that she minded, they’d been demoted several times over and if the choice was between Souta and herself she’d pick her son any day without regrets.

As it were, though they lived a near half hour away on foot, Sakura’s parents visited her almost every day to watch Souta. It gave her time to memorize every single medical text she’d previously discarded and also cram the new ones Tsunade-sama sent daily into her brain. When Souta turned a hundred days old, Sakura returned to the hospital and eagerly began brushing up and practising her mystic palm skills. No one cared why she was gone or why she came back, but everyone noticed the newfound zealotry and passion she’d brought with her. While Sakura worked, occasionally taking on double and sometimes even triple shifts, her parents eagerly watched over Souta during the days. When Sakura was gone at night, the job was picked up by an enthusiastic Shizune-senpai, who was easily Souta’s favourite person in the world. When her baby boy officially turned four months old, Kakashi-sensei finally gathered up whatever courage he needed to come and meet him for the first time.

The event coincided with Sakura’s fifteenth birthday.

Souta had taken one look at Kakashi-sensei’s head hovering far above him and immediately picked him as his new favourite person. Before the amused eyes of Sakura, Tsunade-sama and Sakura’s parents, Souta reached for Kakashi-sensei with his little hands and when not immediately picked up, began to scream. Shizune-senpai, the closest to him other than the frightened jonin, picked the baby up and got a fist to the eye for her trouble, accompanied by a shriek so loud it made Kakashi-sensei wince.

“I think he wants you to hold him, Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kakashi-sensei squeaked.

“Stop being a wuss, Hatake,” Tsunade-sama sneered, not half as drunk as she usually was by that point in the day but at least twice as entertained.

And that was how Kakashi-sensei held Souta for the first time and looked into his dark little eyes, the only feature not identical to Sakura’s, and promptly fell in love himself.

“There’s something therapeutic about babies,” Sakura’s mother said, not long after Souta was born. “They’re so innocent and pure, so very fragile. When they like you, smile at you, reach for you – it’s like you’ve been chosen by this tiny little angel, and suddenly your flaws, and your regrets, and all your guilt just don’t matter as much anymore. It’s not a universal truth, of course; some people don’t like children and that’s fine, but if you do – when you – oh, honey. They heal you so much. Love heals you so much.”

Sakura didn’t understand what her mother meant when she’d whispered the words, but as days passed by and became weeks, then months, and she watched Kakashi-sensei come by more often and just melt into her son, she started to see it. Kakashi-sensei’s dark circles, which had grown pronounced since the chunin exams, lessened. He seemed to gain more weight and looked stronger and healthier. Sakura heard him laugh for the first time when, at eight months old, Souta sat up and landed a wet raspberry onto Kakashi-sensei’s nose. She saw him tear up a little when, on Souta’s first birthday, she asked Kakashi-sensei if he’d like to be his godfather.

It wasn’t just Kakashi-sensei either.

After each visit with Souta, Tsunade-sama drank a little less. The first time she held him, a good half year after his birth, something visibly stitched itself back together in her eyes. When Souta’s first word was ‘Katsu’ and directed at a slug plushie gifted to him by the Godaime, Tsunade-sama had looked so proud Sakura nearly believed it was her name he’d butchered. When Sakura made Shizune-senpai Souta’s godmother alongside Kakashi-sensei, Tsunade-sama was so pleased she’d done the one thing she’d refused to do so far: she began to train Sakura in combat.

Not because Sakura wished to be a combat medic. All dreams of standing on the frontlines of battle disappeared as soon as she laid eyes on Souta. Sakura didn’t care if she stood on equal footing with anyone else anymore; she cared about raising her precious boy well, about seeing him grow up and being there for him. She’d seen orphans in the hospital. She remembered fragments of what Naruto’s childhood looked like. She refused to condemn Souta to such a fate, and when she confided her decision in Kakashi-sensei, he bestowed on her the first genuinely proud look she’d ever gotten from him.

Still, she got down to taijutsu training with gusto. Having the means to protect herself so that she was never again defenceless was important to her. Tsunade-sama’s particular style required such precise chakra control that should Sakura ever master it, she would never be caught unaware again. Even asleep, her chakra would be held in an iron fist. Even unconscious her chakra will continue to function, guided by honed reflexes.

So Sakura trained with Tsunade-sama in the mornings and the afternoons. She quit the little clinic and dedicated what time she had between colossal beatdowns at the hands of her mentor to the hospital. By the time she turned sixteen, she’d nothing left to learn from the medics at Konoha’s general and the only healing art Tsunade-sama had yet to teach her was the Creation Rebirth – which wasn’t possible without the Strength of a Hundred Seal. As soon as Sakura resumed activity in the hospital after Souta’s birth, she’d been allowed to begin trying to gather chakra for the seal by Tsunade-sama, but it wasn’t complete when she officially graduated to a fully certified medic, with a particular specialization in childbirth and children’s health.

She was making progress though, and Sakura firmly believed that by her seventeenth birthday, she’ll achieve it, and then nothing would ever threaten her or Souta again.

Ino found out about Souta a week after his one-hundredth-day celebration and Sakura’s return to the hospital. It wasn’t intentional on Sakura’s part, and it wasn’t malicious on Ino’s – they’d simply bumped into each other while shopping at Konoha’s market. Ino was lugging a cart packed with gardening supplies. Sakura was pushing a stroller filled with groceries and had Souta strapped to her front. They nearly collided before a fruit stand, Sakura coming from the right and Ino turning the corner from the left.

“Watch where you’re going, Forehead,” Ino snapped as she salvaged a particularly intricate pot from crashing into bits.

“Same to you, Pig,” Sakura huffed and patted Souta on the back gently to keep him calm. Her son’s eyes, still a baby’s grey, blinked up at her fondly and he gave a toothless yawn. Sakura cooed, bent her head and plastered a kiss on his forehead. When she looked back up, Ino was staring at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Your parents had a kid?” Ino asked. “Wow, congrats.”

“No.”

The denial flew out of Sakura’s mouth before she even thought about it. She could’ve lied. Heck, whenever she was out and about with Souta and people complimented her on how cute her little brother was, she never corrected them. He couldn’t understand them yet or talk, and Sakura didn’t want to deal with rumours; it didn’t matter if strangers knew the truth or not.

Ino wasn’t a stranger, though. She’d been her best friend for several years before they fell out, over Sasuke of all people. Still, they’d had a brief moment of connection again during the chunin exam preliminaries and the few times they’d bumped into each other since were almost cordial, if a little snarky.

And Sakura was… lonely. A Little bit. She had her parents. She had Tsunade-sama. She had Shizune-senpai. But neither of them were her friends. She missed hanging around people her own age, and she feared she’d never be able to again now that she had Souta. She didn't resent him, but she did resent the situation. Had she been two years older, the whole thing would’ve been so much easier, but that disgusting bastard just had to –

“I’m going to deliver this,” Ino said sternly and drew Sakura out of her musings. She gestured at her cart pointedly, as if her meaning wasn’t clear. “Then I’m gonna come over to your house, and we’re gonna have a long chat, you hear me, Forehead?”

“I don’t live with my parents anymore.” The words spilled out of Sakura’s mouth in a barely legible hurl, but Ino was unfazed. She simply demanded Sakura’s new address, ordered her to get ready and swaggered away, dragging her overloaded cart with an extra smidge of violence.

Sakura had blinked, consciously suppressed trying to think about what she’d just done and dragged herself back home in a daze. Once inside she carefully extracted Souta, put him to sleep in his very own, brand-new bed, and set about organizing her shopping. She didn’t bother locking the door, still intimately familiar with Ino’s temper, and was entirely unsurprised when twenty minutes later Ino barged in unannounced – lugging a bag and slamming the door behind her.

Souta woke up screaming, and Ino at least had the decency to look regretful.

“Can you put these in the fridge?” Sakura said instead of a greeting as she made her way to Souta and picked him up, already hushing him as Shizune-senpai taught her. “There, there, sweetie. It’s just Ino-Pig being brutish, nothing scary at all. Don’t cry.”

“Explain everything,” Ino ordered after she shut the fridge and made herself comfortable on Sakura’s bed, from which she stared at them like a hawk, her eyes tracing every minute movement. “Now.”

Sakura had to give it to Ino, she had iron self-control when she needed it. From the moment Sakura sighed and started giving the explanation she never had to give before, Ino said nothing. She didn’t even twitch. She listened to every word in complete silence and only her stiff posture indicated how thoroughly on edge she was. When Sakura was done, some forty-five minutes later because she knew Ino, and that a short summary was not at all what she asked for, Ino had moved from the bed to sit at the kotatsu where Sakura sat and had reached over. The index finger of her right hand was clenched tightly in Souta’s fist and her blue eyes were staring into his baby greys.

“That motherfucker better be dead,” Ino said finally, a lot quieter and more serious than Sakura expected.

“Don’t swear in front of Souta,” Sakura warned.

“He can’t understand yet anyway,” Ino shrugged her off half-heartedly. “Dammit Forehead. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t realise I was supposed to.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ino hissed. “We’re friends, for crying out loud. You shouldn’t have gone through it alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“You know what I mean, stop being difficult.”

Instead of coming up with an answer Sakura simply handed Souta to Ino and got up to rummage for guest-appropriate snacks. She heard her blonde childhood friend coo behind her and the familiar wheeze of Souta’s giggle.

“D’you want mochi or real food, pig?” Sakura asked.

“Bring it all, Forehead,” Ino decided. “We’re doing a proper sleepover. Yes, we are, lil’ cutie. Oh, you’re so sweet, you are.”

Sakura never thought she'd associate Ino with the word 'endearing', but watching her confident, brash childhood friend turn into a blonde pile of goo, completely at the mercy of her little baby was precisely that - endearing as fuck. She said as much, and got kicked in the shin for her trouble.

Once Ino met Souta it was only a matter of time until Chouji and Shikamaru did. Sakura knew it, Ino knew it. Kakashi-sensei sure as heck knew it when he walked in on Ino babysitting one day and nearly had a heart attack.

“Who babysits in their underwear?!” Kakashi-sensei had thundered, entirely too scandalized for the occasion. “You youths are out of control!”

“I was in a bikini,” Ino clarified, as unimpressed as a middle-aged crone. “So-chan and I were having splash time.”

“Learn to knock,” Sakura concluded, and she wasn’t sure which of them she’d meant.

Either way Ino’s teammates met Souta on his first birthday. They had no idea it was his birthday, as they’d simply been directed by Ino to get their asses to Sakura’s apartment and bring cake with. They arrived in the afternoon, long after Sakura’s parents, Tsunade-sama, Shizune-senpai and a suspiciously sniffling Kakashi-sensei had cleared out. Sakura welcomed the two boys at the door, still wearing a party hat and holding a stuffed rabbit in her free hand.

“Hi,” she greeted. “Come on it.”

“Sorry to intrude!” Chouji hooted cheerfully. “Nice place you’ve got, Sakura-chan! It’s cool that you live alone!”

“Yo,” Shikamaru drawled and stretched one arm out, holding a bag. “Here’s the cake.”

“Thanks!” Sakura took the treat, closed the door behind them with her foot and shuffled towards her little kitchen. As soon as she moved out of the way, they boys were treated to the sight of Ino laying on the floor, holding a manically giggling Souta above her and making the most ridiculous faces known to man.

“Who gave Ino a baby?” Chouji asked immediately, sounding slightly frightened.

“Why give Ino a baby?” Shikamaru seconded, equally alarmed. “And why’s his hair pink – troublesome.”

Sakura bit her lip and focused on unpacking the cake. It was small, but very pretty. Buttercream frosting and shiny, glazed fruit on top. It looked delicious. She reached for the stack of birthday candles left behind by her overly excited parents and stuck one through a small gap between the fruit.

Ino swore that neither boy would judge her or react poorly. She also swore that if somehow they did, she’d personally put them in an early grave, ten times each. Sakura wasn’t surprised Shikamaru immediately figured it out, but she was wary of their reaction eitherway.

“I’ll have you know I’m So-chan’s favourite auntie,” Ino said proudly. “Isn’t that right So-chan? I love you so much. Whom do you love so much?”

“Inooooo!” Souta cackled, having the time of his life.

“So-chan, huh?” Chouji recovered first, apparently. When Sakura turned around, armed with the prepared cake, he was already seated right next to Ino, nose-to-nose with Souta and smiling in that warm, shy way of his. “Hi! I’m Chouji! Nice to meet you!”

“’M Souta!” Souta declared proudly. Maybe it was due to his mostly adult company, but Souta not only started talking quite early but he’d also progressed very quickly, mastering simple expressions with relative ease, and he seemed to understand everything.

“Cool!” Chouji’s grin widened. “Can you say Chouji?”

“Cho-ji!”

“Close enough,” Ino decided for him. “Oi, Forehead, where’s So-chan’s cake?”

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru groaned. “Why’re you so rude even in front of children, Ino?”

“Excuse you, I’m not rude at all!”

“Delusional,” Shikamaru deadpanned.

Sakura hid a grin and brought the cake over. She put it on the kotatsu with as much flourish as she could, successfully drawing Souta’s attention.

“Mama, mama,” Souta chanted, and Sakura took him from Ino, cuddled him close until he started to squirm before seating him squarely in her lap. “Cake!” her boy announced excitedly.

It was his second cake of the day and Souta still remembered what to expect. Ino sat smack in front of them, with Chouji to her left and Shikamaru to her right. As dramatic as ever, she reached into her steadily growing cleavage and produced an ugly, monkey shaped lighter she stolen form Asuma-sensei, in the hopes he’d quit smoking.

Ino lit the candle, Souta clapped his hands.

“Happy first birthday, my little love,” Sakura cooed. “You can blow the candle!”

Much later, when Souta was snoring away in his crib, Chouji was passed out on the floor and Ino had hogged Sakura’s bed, Sakura sat at her little kotatsu with a cup of tea and another slice of cake, and played shogi against Shikamaru on the old, slightly stained board she’d wrestled from her father.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Shikamaru said quietly as he pondered his next move. “I’m here for you anyway.”

Sakura gnawed at a glazed slice of orange and watched him manipulate her into another irredeemable loss. She nodded, accepting his words and victory wordlessly while her mouth worked at the dessert, enjoying the rare treat she’d forgone on her own birthday.

“He’s a cute kid,” Shikamaru murmured. “You’re a good mom.”

“Thank you.”

The thing about Shikamaru? He never said anything he didn’t mean.

He appreciated his peace of mind too much to make empty promises, so he always took special care to only commit to things he genuinely wanted to put effort into. So when he said he’d be there for Sakura anyway, he’d meant it more than she initially expected but should’ve seen coming.

Already a jonin by fifteen, Shikamaru’s mission schedule was loaded more than Ino’s or Chouji’s, but despite that he’d begun showing up after Sakura’s late night shifts to help watch Souta so that she could sleep. It became a weekly thing almost immediately after Souta’s first birthday, and by the time her little baby could stand on his own and toddle around freely, Shikamaru would come watch him about twice a week if he was in the village.

Sakura had returned early from her afternoon training a month before her sixteenth birthday to find that Shikamaru had taken Souta up onto her building’s roof, and they were heavily engaged in cloud watching. Souta was calling out random shapes and animals and Shikamaru’s lazy drawl easily accepted each of her precocious little darling’s claims.

“Shika! Cat!”

“Yeah, that’s a cat.”

“Doggy, doggy!”

“Aa, looks like a dog, alright.”

“PIG!” Souta erupted, absolutely euphoric.

“Just don’t tell Ino,” Shikamaru cautioned, amusement thick in his voice.

“Shika, Shika,” Souta crooned. “I love you thiiiiiiiiiis much!”

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru drawled, and Sakura’s eyes widened in alarm, but he continued before she could so much as twitch. “I happen to love you even more.”

“Nooooooo!”

“Very much yes.”

If Sakura heard similar exchanges several times by the time her birthday came around, if she made a point to sneak back home earlier on days she knew Shikamaru babysat Souta, well, she never told a soul. But watching Souta slowly but surely decide that Shikamaru was the absolute best, despite his unwavering love for Kakashi-sensei, was precious. Seeing Shikamaru cautiously approach and grow attached to her little boy was a curious and charming experience of its own. He wasn’t uncle-like in the way Chouji was, not eccentric godfather like Kakashi-sensei, and he certainly wasn’t at all grandfatherly. Sakura wondered if their dynamic resembled that of siblings, and she even asked Ino about it, the morning of her birthday.

“You’re a moron,” Ino told her unapologetically as she strapped Souta into his stroller, unimpressed by his intense opposition and unmoved by his tears. “Wail all you want, pink demon, but we’re still gonna go to the market. We need to pick up your mama’s birthday cake.”

“Cake?” Souta, almost two years old, ceased his tantrum. “For mama?”

“Yep,” Ino nodded and tapped him on his nose. “It’s a very important job we’ve got!”

“Ino-Pig,” Sakura hissed. “You didn’t answer my question at all.”

“I’m not going to, either.” Ino looked at her like she was pitying Sakura before she swung her front door open and almost skipped past it. “Rub your two braincells together and figure it out, oh genius medical prodigy.”

“Ino!” Sakura shrieked, infuriated, but to no avail.

She resolved to just leave it alone, but her decision lasted until sundown when it crumbled to nothing and she, simultaneously, got her answer.

Sakura’s sixteenth birthday party was a bit bigger than her fifteenth, with three additional guests. Souta was thoroughly overwhelmed and absolutely exhausted by the time the affair ended and had fallen asleep on Shikamaru – to whom he fled sometime between his grandmother’s kisses and honorary grandmother’s playful tickling.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Sakura grumbled. She tried to untangle Souta’s fists from Shikamaru’s flack jacket, but the toddler’s grip was strong.

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru grunted, both arms holding Souta up and doing nothing at all to help Sakura. He was the last guest left in her little studio apartment, held back by Souta’s death grip on his clothes.

“I just really don’t want to wake him, I’m so sorry,” Sakura apologized again and gave a victorious little chirp when one tiny hand finally let go.

She started on the second fist, little fingers digging into Shikamaru’s mesh shirt, and had almost managed to free it when Souta’s little foot kicked her hand aside as he rolled in Shikamaru’s hold, followed by a whine.

“Daaaad,” Souta almost gurgled as he nuzzled deeper into Shikamaru’s arms.

Sakura froze, immediately mortified, and doubled her efforts to untangle her stubborn son from her friend.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, a little frantic. “I’ve no idea where that came from. I’ll set him straight as soon as I can, I promise –“

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru sighed. “It’s fine.”

“It’s really not! I don’t want to burden you with his nonsense, it’s probably something he picked up at the playground –“

“Sakura.” Shikamaru moved Souta to one arm and used his freed up had to grab both of hers. Sakura abruptly looked up and almost flinched at how much taller than her he’d gotten. They used to be the same height. When did Shikamaru get so big?

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered.

“Sakura,” Shikamaru repeated, just as quietly. “Troublesome woman. I don’t mind.”

“I – what?” Sakura hissed. “Why not?!”

“It’s Souta,” Shikamaru shrugged.

“So?! That doesn’t mean it’s fine he thinks you’re his father, or something!” Sakura tried to pull her wrists from Shikamaru’s grip, but he didn’t let het. “Shikamaru, let me go.”’

“You’re not hearing me.” Instead of releasing her, Shikamaru pulled on her imprisoned wrists and Sakura almost fell into his side. As fast as a snake, he freed her wrists only to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her even closer, so that she was flush against him.

“What are you doing?” Sakura squeaked, feeling heat creep up her neck and cheeks.

“It’s fine if Souta thinks I’m his dad,” Shikamaru said straight into her ear. “I wish I was.”

Sakura’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, shocked by both his words and the quiet, steady confidence with which they were delivered.

“I want to be,” Shikamaru continued, unbothered.

“You’re fifteen,” she protested.

“So were you yesterday,” he drawled.

“Shikamaru, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

Sakura wiggled against his grip and managed to bend her head back, so that she could look him in the eye.

“You’re a clan heir,” she said, drawing on the bit of political manoeuvring she’d picked up from attending to Tsunade-sama every day. “You don’t want to be involved in a scandal with a teenaged single mother of a civilian background.”

“Don’t presume to know what I want.”

“Presume,” Sakura mocked. “Big words. You’ll still need to marry and have heirs one day.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and?” she almost shouted but caught herself at the last moment. “What am I supposed to tell Souta, when you’re done having your fun and go off to build a real family?”

“That,” Shikamaru said tightly, “is insulting. I don’t say what I don’t mean. If you let me be a father to Souta, I’ll always be his father. And why would I marry someone else?”

“You don’t – what?” Sakura frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Are you usually that slow?” Shikamaru wondered. “Can’t be, you’re supposed to be some sort of miracle medic.”

“Shikamaru.”

“I like you,” he finally snapped, “I liked you since we were kids, at the academy.”

“What?!” she shrieked.

Souta whined and kicked out with one foot, catching Sakura straight in the jaw.

“Seriously?” Shikamaru rolled his eyes at her. He pulled back his arm and stepped way, almost gliding towards Souta’s bed where he easily detangled little hands and deposited the sleeping boy without any struggle.

“How’d you manage this?” Sakura demanded, jealous and impressed at the same time..

“I do it every time,” Shikamaru said with a shrug. He walked back to her and, without any signs of hesitation, invaded Sakura’s personal space. She found herself herded until her back was against the kitchen counter and Shikamaru’s arms cradled her spine, holding her close and much too intimately.

“What are you doing?” she hiccupped, suddenly frightened.

“Hugging you.” Shikamaru’s voice softened and took on a quality Sakura recognized. He spoke the way he did when he was trying to calm Souta down. “I’m hugging you because you might run away before we’re done talking.”

“I won’t run away, I’m not a coward –“

“Sakura,” Shikamaru sighed. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, so that she couldn’t avoid looking at him. “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were seven and you kicked Kiba in the mouth for calling Chouji fat. I love Souta. It’s not a passing curiosity, or a game, or anything like that. I genuinely want him, and I want you, too. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay!” Sakura whispered, on the brink of panic. “You don’t understand – you need heirs. Nara heirs!”

“Suppose you’re right,” Shikamaru allowed. “What’s the problem?”

“I can’t give you any!” Sakura wheezed. “I can’t! I haven’t gotten a period since before I had Souta. I – I’m infertile, I’m pretty sure. I can’t give you kids, and you need them because you’re clan heir –“

“Sakura,” Shikamaru cut over her sharply and she closed her mouth. “Slow down. For argument’s sake, lets say I will inevitably need biological children to continue the Nara head’s family. It'll take at least ten years for the clan elders even start whining about it. If it’s really that crucial to them, and I doubt it will be since we’re not that big on ceremony, there are alternatives.”

“If you think for a minute I’ll ever be alright with my significant other just impregnating another –“

“Surrogates,” Shikamaru said flatly. “I know Tsunade-sama started popularising the procedure. Adoption is viable, too. I’ve a lot of cousins. My parents are young enough to have another kid if they really try at it, too.”

Sakura shook her head, speechless.

“Date me,” Shikamaru said. “Give it a try. Souta’s young, if we don’t work out, he’ll get over it easy.”

“You’re certifiably insane.”

“Prolonged exposure to Ino could cause that.”

“Shikamaru!” Sakura snapped. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Sakura stared at him stubbornly, refusing to budge.

Shikamaru nudged her nose with his in a move so unexpected, she almost yelped.

“Sakura,” he hummed. “Date me.”

She caved.

By the time Naruto finally returned from his Great Training Adventure, Sakura’s life had changed so much she barely even registered the event – which once upon a time would’ve been so monumental for her.

Shikamaru and her had been dating for eight months by then. They’d been a couple, publicly and officially, for half a year. Sakura made chunin. Souta turned two. Shikamaru turned sixteen. Sakura took over managing the children’s ward of the hospital. Sakura and Souta moved into a bigger apartment closer to the hospital, made possible by Sakura’s chunin and head-medic salary, and now each of them had a separate bedroom.

Sakura had sex, consensual and conscious sex, for the first time in her life four months into her relationship.

In fact, she was having it on the morning after that Naruto came back to Konoha, too.

Sakura was stretched out on her bed, hands holding onto the headboard tightly and her legs wrapped around Shikamaru’s waist. His hands were braced on the wall and he hovered above her, even taller than before, as he did his best to prevent any sound from escaping the room while his hips slammed into hers, hard. Sakura bit her lip and whimpered when a particular thrust hit a spot that made her shudder. Shikamaru hissed, nudged her legs further apart with his thighs and hit that spot again, balls deep and rough and absolutely what she wanted. There was a lot to be said about shinobi maturing quickly, and even more should be said about their physical development.

There was a knock on the window.

Sakura looked to the right and saw a messenger bird perched outside, waiting.

“Eyes on me,” Shikamaru grunted in his newly deepened baritone and emphasized each word with a harsh thrust.

“S-Shika – there’s a m-message – ah!”

“It can wait,” he said. Shikamaru leaned back and freed up his hands. One immediately grabbed at Sakura’s waist to angle her how he liked, the other grabbed at her left nipple.

The messenger bird knocked again.

“Shikamaru,” Sakura whined insistently.

“Fuck,” Shikamaru almost moaned. His hand slid from her breast to her clit and Sakura’s entire body shook.

“Mama!” Souta wailed from his room across the hall, just as the impatient bird banged its beak against the window thrice in a row.

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru groaned, but he rolled off her immediately and, before Sakura could shake off the daze of her sudden orgasm, had pulled on his pants and marched out of her bedroom. “Why the cries, little man?” she heard him ask Souta, who’s frantic sobs immediately came to a stop.

Sakura smiled, charmed for the umpteenth time by just how tightly the two had bonded.

The bird knocked again.

“I’m coming!” Sakura snapped and allowed herself a giggle at the double entendre. She pulled on a robe and opened the window, yanked the scroll from the irritated animal and watched it fly off with a roll of her eyes.

Sakura sat back down on her bed and had just rolled the scroll open when Shikamaru came back, dragging his feet and carrying a grumpy Souta on his hip. They didn’t share a drop of blood, but their disgruntled expressions were misleadingly identical, from the frown down to the tilt of their mouths.

“I think he’s got a fever,” Shikamaru said. “What’s that?”

“Naruto’s back,” Sakura said, and wasn't at all surprised how little it mattered compared to the possibility of Souta having a fever. Nothing short of the end of the world would ever matter more. She hurried to their side and put a hand to her little boy’s forehead, her palm glowing green and her chakra running a diagnostic scan while simultaneously numbing any pain he might feel. “Just a little bit,” Sakura said. “I think it’s that pesky virus going around.”

“I’m free today,” Shikamaru said and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I can stay with him, no need for kindergarten.”

“You’ve just returned from a mission,” Sakura fussed. “You need to rest –“

“Sakura,” Shikamaru sighed. “Don’t be troublesome.”

“Mama,” Souta sniffled pathetically. “I want t’ stay with dad.”

Sakura had given up on correcting him after months of Souta insisting that Shikamaru was, in fact, his father and her menace of a boyfriend refusing to even try and clarify the situation. Shikamaru was, at the very least, committed to the role. His parents had met her and Souta. They accepted them with surprising ease. There'd been slight hints that Shikamaru's mother got a baby-fever and was dead set on having another of her own, to Shikaku's horror. Sakura knew that even if Shikamaru and her broke up, Souta would still have a father that loved him very much, despite how young they both were.

Then again, shinobi grew up quickly.

“Okay,” she folded. “Send a message if anything happens. I’ll be home soon, I promise –“

“Hang out with Naruto,” Shikamaru instructed. “I know you missed him.”

Sakura huffed, pressed her face into his neck and grunted out her reply.

“Mama, that’s not how you talk,” Souta said, fully awake and talking well.

“I said,” Sakura grumbled, “that I’d miss you more. Definitely.”

“Cute,” Shikamaru hummed. “Get gone, woman. We’re having a boys’ day.”

“Boys’ day!” Souta cheered.

And that was that, Sakura was kicked out of her own apartment by her boyfriend, who didn’t even live there, and her son, who wasn’t even three yet.

Sakura hiked through the village, got her morning coffee from her favourite stand and devoured the complimentary mochi in a single bite on the way. She passed Gai-sensei and Lee on their morning run, followed at a distance by a haggard Tenten who's winked at her tiredly before trying to catch up to the two lunatics. Neji, unsurprisingly, was nowhere in sight - probably off on a solo assignment no one was supposed to know about, but did anyway. She met Naruto at the gates, let him twirl her around energetically, tried to follow his rapid chatter, and it took her ten minutes to realise something wasn’t right. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly, was the matter, but something bothered her. It wasn’t until Konohamaru barrelled onto their reunion, flashing his inappropriate sexy-jutsu and Naruto retaliated with an even more graphic and rude version, that the metaphorical dime dropped, and Sakura realised what the problem was.

Naruto didn’t change.

He was taller, sure. His chakra reserves were ridiculously massive, and he was definitely stronger physically, too. But at the core of it, he remained the same childish, happy-go-lucky, trouble-magnet child. He was rougher around the edges; it was obvious that some of the idealistic optimism had washed off and there was a sly gleam in his blue eyes that wasn’t there before, but Naruto hadn’t grown up. He didn’t mature. He was sixteen, but not the sort of sixteen Sakura, or Shikamaru, or any of their graduating class were. He was more like the civilian kids, innocent, happy and unaware.

Naruto was still a genin, she remembered. Out of their shinobi generation, only Kiba was still a genin and that was because he was on probation after royally destroying several training grounds. Konoha under Tsunade-sama was a lot stricter and less forgiving on stupid shenanigans.

Promotions were also a lot harder to come by. Tsunade-sama practically overhauled the Sandaime’s system, a move that annoyed a lot of people, but no one dared say anything about. It was unwise to oppose a leader that could squish you like a bug and regenerate limbs if she so desired. The point was that to get ranked as a chunin, Sakura not only completed her medical training, but also mastered Tsunade-sama’s fighting style, participated in a ranked examination and passed a mental evaluation by a Yamanaka before being sent out on a B-Rank as a part of a unit she’d never even met before, to see how well she preformed in the field.

The only jonin their age were Shikamaru, whose tactical genius made him invaluable, and Neji, who was a prodigy. The bets were that the next promotion would go to either Ino, who was steadily working her way through T&I at a speed that worried even Morino Ibiki, or Shino, who had a perfect mission record and impeccable leadership skills.

Naruto wasn’t like them. He’d spent the past two years traveling with the free spirited Jiraiya, who even now was already off snooping around Konoha’s public baths rather than reporting ot his Kage. Naruto didn’t have to shape up and step forward in the wake of the invasion, to fill Konoha’s gaps in the ranks. He didn’t experience Tsunade-sama’s brand of discipline, nor did he participate in the sort of missions they had to take, to build Konoha back and up to standard. The sort of missions where one couldn’t be picky, where you got your hand, your mind and your body dirty. The sort that made Ino come back and hide in Sakura’s apartment for days, that made Chouji hug Souta for hours just to breathe again, and that made Hinata – shy, quiet Hinata – develop a ruthless style of juuken solely so that she would never have to witness what she did on a reconnaissance mission without being able to help again.

Naruto was innocent sunshine, and though he was warm and friendly and exactly as Sakura remembered him, she had changed. A lot.

She spent the day listening to stories of his travels, noted that he didn’t really ask anything about her, and didn’t take offence.

They were strangers. They had nothing in common.

“I think I’m ready to go after Sasuke-teme, y’know!” Naruto announced after they’d finished getting ramen for dinner. “I’m definitely going to bring him back!”

Sakura was blindsided by the sudden declaration tot he point she dropped her spoon. She hadn’t thought about Sasuke since that day, in the hospital room, when Tsunade-shishou told her what his recklessness had done.

“Did you get a mission to?” she asked, more out of curiosity than genuine interest. “As far as I know shishou hasn’t issued a command to bring him back.”

“Eh?” Naruto blinked at her. “What d’you mean, Sakura-chan? We made a promise, ‘tebayo! Before I left. To bring back teme at all costs!”

Sakura wasn’t up to all costs at all, and she didn’t promise anything of the sort.

“You know, Naruto, he left me unconscious on a bench.” Which got her raped and pregnant at fourteen. “That’s a pretty solid declaration of wanting to leave.” And a hostile move if she ever heard of one. “If you want to go after him and shishou authorizes it, good for you. I’m not going to take the risk for someone who just abandoned me. On a bench. At night. After an invasion.” Sakura made sure to look Naruto in the eye when she emphasized her last word. “Unconscious.”

She waited for the spark of understanding.

Ino had it. Chouji had it. Shikamaru had it.

Every person who ever heard about how Sasuke abandoned the village had that moment of ‘oh no’ when they realised he’d basically thrown Sakura to the wolves to do it. Even without knowing about Souta, to leave a teammate unconscious and compromised? That was a big no-no in Konoha’s book of conduct.

Naruto didn’t have that moment. Instead, he got offended that Sakura wasn’t on board with his grand plan and puffed up like an angry kitten.

“How could you say that, Sakura-chan! Teme’s our teammate, dattebayo!”

“Technically, he’s not.” Sakura pulled out her wallet and paid for her ramen before getting up and dusting her clothes. “Team 7’s disbanded.”

“That’s not true!”

“It’s good to see you Naruto,” she said, determined not to be dragged into a pointless argument. “Go report to shishou. I’m guessing your teacher’s already been dragged there, and she’ll probably kill him if no one intervenes.”

“Oi, Sakura-chan! I’m not done eating yet –“

Sakura walked out and didn’t look back.

Naruto came and went like a storm. He hopped from place to place, searching for Sasuke with permission from a bemused Tsunade-sama, and completing missions as he went. He never stayed long in Konoha, and that made it easier for Sakura to keep her distance. He seemed unable to grasp the notion that she genuinely didn’t want to go looking for Sasuke, didn’t care if he returned or not and had gotten completely over her past feelings for the last Uchiha. Whenever they did meet, Naruto always brought him up and looked at her expectantly, as if mentioning Sasuke’s name should evoke some kind of reaction.

His level of bullheadedness was actually impressive.

Even when their entire age group met up for Kiba’s seventeenth birthday, a month after Sakura’s own, Naruto seemed blind to the reality. Sakura had arrived at the party with Shikamaru, hand in hand, and spent the entire night by his side. Their relationship wasn’t a secret, and though they didn’t go so far as to make out in public like Ino and her boyfriend of the month, the arm Shikamaru wrapped around her shoulders and the way he whispered in Sakura’s ear were pretty telling. And yet, despite the fact they even left together to the loud sound of Kiba’s jeers and Ino’s not at all quiet request to ‘make it dirty’, Naruto still hadn’t gotten a clue.

“When I bring Sasuke-teme back, I bet you’ll get together,” he said cheerfully a few days later, during a rare get together with Kakashi-sensei.

Sakura rolled her eyes, not even irritated by his cluelessness anymore.

Kakashi-sensei put down his chopsticks and stared at Naruto as if he was insane.

“Kaka-sensei?” Naruto raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“That’s not going to happen, Naruto,” Kakashi-sensei said, slow and deliberate. Sakura had spent enough time in his company to recognize he was somewhere between offended and triggered. Over the past two years they’d grown close, and Kakashi-sensei was like family to her, especially with him being Souta’s godfather. Sakura would’ve immediately abandoned fort and changed the subject.

Naruto didn’t know Kakashi-sensei well.

“What won’t happen?” he asked, confused.

“Sakura will not ‘get together’ with Sasuke,” Kakashi-sensei clarified. “Ever.”

Because she had a three year old son. Because she was already with Shikamaru, and they were doing well.

Because Sakura really, really hated Sasuke.

“Eh? Why not?!” Naruto boomed. “No way, they’d make a great match! Sakura-chan’s been in love with teme for ages –“

“Naruto. Sakura will never date Sasuke.” Kakashi-sensei rarely spoke so coldly outside of missions, and Sakura only knew that tidbit because Ino was often paired with him and couldn’t stop harping about how hot it was. “He intentionally left her unconscious and defenceless on a bench while Konoha was compromised. If Sasuke ever approaches Sakura to do anything other than apologize, I’ll kill him.”

“What!” Naruto squawked. “That’s a bad joke, Kaka-sensei!”

“I’m not joking.” Kakashi-sensei picked his chopsticks back up and snorted under his mask. “Eat your food and shut up, Naruto Never bring this up again.”

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto wailed dramatically. “Tell Kaka-sensei!”

“He’s right,” Sakura said instead. “Sorry, Naruto. I don’t like Sasuke anymore.”

Rather, she hated him quite a bit.

“He abandoned Konoha, y’know? I can’t forgive that.”

Naruto huffed, and puffed, but took Kakashi-sensei’s warning to heart. Though he kept talking about Sasuke and looking at Sakura like she’d erupt into pink heart shaped confetti whenever he did, he never brought up them dating ever again. Still, his insistence on not noticing his surroundings was steadily getting on Sakura’s nerves and it definitely irked Shikamaru to the point of no return, because he started testing just how determined Naruto was to not see what he disliked.

Whenever Naruto came back to Konoha, Shikamaru left bitemarks on Sakura’s neck, shoulders and collarbones. Solely to see if he’d notice.

When their age group met up again, this time for Hinata’s seventeenth birthday, the last of them, Shikamaru sat Sakura in his lap right in front of Naruto and wrapped his arms around her middle. Naruto didn’t react, so Shikamaru started nuzzling her throat, nibbling her back and even went as far as lewdly licking the junction between her shoulder and nape, a spot that always made Sakura shudder and whine. Naruto didn’t even blink away from his argument with Kiba and Shikamaru, annoyed, gave up.

Then Sakura turned eighteen. Her parents took Souta for the night and Ino threw her a huge party at her own apartment.

“Oi, where’d Sakura-chan go?” Naruto asked loudly from the direction of Ino’s living room.

Sakura, pressed to the locked shower door, bit into her hand to stop the sound of her moan getting out, while Shikamaru sucked her clit into his mouth and swiped his tongue against it.

“Fucking Shikamaru,” Ino replied, prouder than anything.

“Oh, my god, Ino!” Tenten cackled, probably as embarrassed as she was entertained.

Lee wailed something about losing the youthful blossom of his life, while Hinata's familiar embarrassed squeak begged to spare them the details.

Shikamaru removed his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue. Sakura’s knees wobbled and she keened a little bit too loudly.

“Very funny,” Naruto’s voice huffed. “Seriously, where is she?”

“Seriously,” Ino repeated, as if she was talking to an idiot. “She’s in the shower. Fucking Shikamaru.”

“Not yet, but in a minute,” Shikamaru muttered, his face buried between her legs and Sakura couldn’t help but laugh at him. It turned into a strangled moan when quick as a flash he’d gotten up, hoisted her left leg around his hips and rammed his cock into her in one swift movement.

Naruto loudly protested Ino’s sense of humour. While they argued back and forth, Shikamaru clamped one hand over Sakura’s mouth, used the other to push her leg as far as he could and fucked her into the door with extra viciousness, as if he was daring Naruto to hear and walk in on them.

Sakura would’ve been embarrassed by it, having sex in Ino’s bathroom while their friends gathered in the living room in honour of her birthday. But even though most guests believed Ino when she said Sakura was off riding Shikamaru’s dick, none of them thought they really were getting it on in Ino’s bathroom. With the music playing, Naruto and Ino’s loud argument, Kiba’s general noisiness and several other voices conversing, it wasn’t likely that anyone could hear them aside from maybe Neji, and he wasn't listening. Plus, Sakura was a little bit tired of Naruto, too.

If walking in on Shikamaru fucking her raw is what it would take for him to wizen up, she was almost tempted to make it happen. Almost.

In the end, Naruto didn’t see, and Sakura swallowed Shikamaru’s cum, and they left Ino’s bathroom as spotless as they’d found it. At the end of the night, Shikamaru walked her home, joined her in her bed and cuddled Sakura to sleep, his body real and warm behind her.

“Move in with me,” he said into her back. “You and Souta.”

“No,” Sakura huffed. “You live with your parents. Move in with us.”

He did the very next day.

On Shikamaru’s eighteenth birthday he was ordered to lead a track and rescue mission. The target was the Kazekage, kidnapped by unknown hostiles. His team consisted of Neji, Lee and Naruto, with Kakashi-sensei as backup and an escort for Shizune-senpai who was requested by Suna to neutralize a poison used during the attack on their leader.

The original mission request asked for Sakura, who’d completed her Byakugou seal and was widely regarded as at the very least equal to Tsunade-sama. Sakura, however, was a mother and very publicly not serving as an active kunoichi. Shizune-senpai and her had taken a joint, brief look at the poison sample sent and determined that not only was Shizune-senpai a better fit for the mission but she also didn’t have a three-year-old depending on her back at home. Tsunade-sama, too, had been unamused at the blatant attempt to get her youngest apprentice out of the village.

Shikamaru’s team set out at dawn, Naruto complaining about Sakura’s lame excuses not to join on a Team 7 revival quest, and Kakashi-sensei armed with a strongly worded letter from Tsunade-sama suggesting Suna take what she gives them and never try for her apprentice again, unless they wanted war.

They had a peace treaty, true, but it wasn’t ironclad on Konoha’s side, and the Leaf still held a grudge for the invasion.

Sakura watched them go until they disappeared on the horizon. She wasn’t particularly worried. Shikamaru and Neji were both elite jonin commanders, and as his designated medic Sakura knew Neji was an ANBU, too. The only reason Lee wasn’t named jonin was his inability to use chakra. Kakashi-sensei was easily equal to most Kage out there, particularly now that he was healthier, physically and mentally, than before. Shizune-senpai was a jonin through and through. Sakura didn’t know what Naruto’s strength level was, but she suspected he was proficient enough.

The entire team was an overkill, and she didn’t know why Tsunade-sama had sent out such a force, but that at least guaranteed Shikamaru would be back home quickly enough. She doubted he’d be away from more than a week, all things considered.

So when a week turned into two, and then three, and finally a month, Sakura allowed herself to worry.

“They  got the Kazekage back,” Tsunade-sama said with a heavy sigh when Sakura cracked and asked for details after Shikamaru was gone for six weeks. “That was done ages ago. They’ve been hunting the organization that took him, and it’s proving more difficult than expected. Orochimaru’s heavily involved, and we’re working jointly with Kumo, of all villages, to take the entire operation down.”

Sakura blinked.

”Shikamaru’s fine,” Tsunade-sama clarified. “He’s not even involved in combat anymore.”

“Oh,” Sakura said with a nod. “Okay then. It’s classified, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Don’t want to know, then.”

And she didn’t.

When Sakura chose to become a medic after all, when she decided to focus specifically and healing children, she gave up any and all rights to be a field operative. The fact that she could engage in combat due to her mastery over the Byakugo was nothing but a technicality. She had no combat experience, had close to zero experience outside o Konoha’s walls in general and wasn’t all that interested in either. She loved her patients, loved her hub of efficiency at the hospital, loved her staff – many of whom she trained herself. Sakura, over time and through caring for her own child, came to see the beauty and importance of medical nin and grew to love her chosen profession deeply. She was proud of her achievements, of her breakthrough research and innovation in the field of paediatrics and also gynaecology. She hadn’t regretted making the decision even once, and she accepted all the limitations that came with it.

The fact she got to come back home to Souta, safe and sound, was just the cherry on top.

Sakura lived her life day to day, watched Souta grow and trusted that should the situation change, Tsunade-sama would let her know.

Ino was called for backup, to help with long-distance communication and not for active combat. Sakura saw her off at the gate with Souta, who fearlessly waved bye-bye with all the enthusiasm of a child.

On Souta’s fourth birthday, Chouji set out too, along with Hinata. Sakura saw them off as well, her son perched on her hip and waving at his honorary uncle and the pretty lady he’d just met, who was openly stunned but much too tactful to be awkward about it. Later that day, Ino’s summons barged into Sakura’s home and deposited two gifts on her living room floor, along with a long letter. Ino had gifted Souta a flashy purple gardening set. Shikamaru had sent a hand carved deer figurine, along with the letter. He wrote that he missed them. He wrote that he loved them. At the very bottom, in code, he wrote exactly what he’d like to do to Sakura when he came back. In the open he promised Souta he won’t leave for so long ever again, and that he’d be back soon.

And he kept his word.

Shikamaru returned with his team sans Naruto three weeks later, after successfully eradicating the terrorist organization known as Akatsuki and uprooting Orochimaru’s Otogakure. Sakura and Souta met them at the gates, and Sakura watched her fast-growing boy sprint on little legs straight for Shikamaru, who picked him up, held him close, and kept eye contact with her the whole time.

“So-chan!” Ino screeched, a few steps behind Shikamaru, perched on Chouji’s back. “Oh my god, look how much you’ve grown, baby!”

“Ino-nee!” Souta shrieked. He hopped out of Shikamaru’s arms and straight into Ino’s. “I missed you sooooo much!”

“Ooh I missed you too, you precious little treat, you!”

“Maa, So-chan,” Kakashi-sensei groaned from his own spot on Shizune-senpai’s back. “No love for your old godfather?”

“Stop talking nonsense and save your energy!” Shizune-senpai barked. “Reckless menace. Hi, So-chan! How’ve you been, darling?”

“Hi!” Souta greeted, unbothered by the blatant stares of those he’d yet to meet. Instead he latched onto Ino’s shoulders and bounced on top of Chouji’s head, pumped up to have his family back in full again. “Y’know, dad, mama said you won’t be away long, but it’s been ages!”

“You don’t say,” Shikamaru drawled. They’d made it to Sakura, who smiled brightly and accepted his hug happily. “Then it must’ve been a miracle.”

“A miracle?” Souta frowned. “Why?”

“Because your mother’s never wrong, son.”

“Ha!” Ino croaked. “Thank me everyday, Sakura. I raised him well!”

“You didn’t raise him,” Chouji and Sakura said simultaneously.

“I’m confused,” Neji said to Hinata, who watched the interactions with a wide smile and warm eyes.

“Sakura-san’s son is precious, don’t you think so, Neji-nii-san?” Hinata said softly and took a tentative step towards Chouji, before waving at Souta. “Hello, Souta-kun. Do you remember me?”

“Pretty Hinata-sama!” Souta said happily and Hinata flushed, openly pleased.

“Sakura-san’s son?!” Lee boomed. “How lovely! How very youthful!”

“You’re weird, mister,” Souta said, startled by the loud noise. He turned around in Ino’s hold and reached for Shikamaru, his lower lip wobbling dangerously. “Dad.”

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru snorted and took him back into his arms. He made sure to keep Sakura in his hold, too, and the three of them stood together even as the others passed them by and went on into the village. “I missed you both,” Shikamaru said quietly, his head bent so that he was closer to them. “So much.”

“We missed you, too,” Sakura said right back, and Souta nodded his head vigorously. “Is it all over?”

“Naruto went after Sasuke,” Shikamaru said, annoyance thick in his voice. “But that’s about it.”

“Let’s go home, then,” Sakura suggested. “You made a lot of promises I expect you to keep.”

Shikamaru’s mouth twitched into a smirk.

Souta scowled, familiar with the expression.

“No kissing!” He screeched.

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru huffed. “If I don’t kiss your mother, how will she know I love her?”

“Use your words,” Souta insisted. “Like a big boy.”

Sakura laughed at Shikamaru’s consternated expression all the way home.

Two weeks later, Sakura woke to a messenger bird knocking on her window. She crawled her way out from under the thick blanket Shikamaru's mother gifted them, just barely managing not to jostle Souta who'd woken from a nightmare in the middle of the night and came to their bed for comfort after.

"Why?" Shikamaru grumbled, his taller frame curling around Souta's little one as he sought her missing warmth.

Sakura giggled under her breath as she unlatched window, took the letter from the bird and sent it on its way. She opened the little scroll, scanned its contents and couldn't help but roll her eyes before unceremoniously dropping it in the little bin by her nightstand.

"What is it?" Shikamaru murmured when she wiggled back into the cocoon of warmth.

"Nothing important," Sakura said through a yawn. "If shishou needs me later, she'll sent Katsuyu-sama."

"Hmm."

Moments later, they were deep asleep, their hands laced together over Souta's belly and legs intertwined. Outside, an early winter breeze swept the last of Konoha's red foliage off its thick trees and greyish clouds fled in the face of the bright early morning sun. It was a rare join day off in the Nara-Haruno apartment, and neither had the inclination to waste a second of it elsewhere.

As Souta rolled over, nestling his feet against Sakura's stomach, two figures approached Konoha's walls.

As Shikamaru rolled onto his back, snoring softly and stretching in his sleep, the guards at the gate ushered an emergency report to the Godaime's office, unsure about what to do.

As Sakura hugged Souta close and kicked Shikamaru's shin to stop his snoring, a rumbunctious blonde and stoic raven entered the village, expecting a welcoming audience.

An ANBU was there to escort them to the Hokage's office, yes, but the person they'd been expecting was nowhere to be seen.

"Oi," Naruto frowned at the back of the ANBU's head. "Where's Sakura-chan 'ttebayo? she's supposed to be here."

"Haruno-sensei?" the ANBU grunted. "It's her day off. I imagine she's at home, with her family."

"Huh?" Naruto huffed. "No way! Didn't she get my message?!"

"I wouldn't know," the ANBU snapped. "Keep up. Godaime-sama hasn't got all day."

"Ha! Rude!" Naruto snapped before looking back at his companion and grinning brightly. "Don't worry, Teme! I'm sure Sakura-chan will come greet us any minute, dattebayo!"

"Hn."

It would take several days for Naruto to realise that Sakura will not, in fact, be coming to greet either him or Uchiha Sasuke any time soon. But that is an altogether different story.