Chapter Text
When the Hokage smiled, it never quite reached his eyes.
Her mother said it was because his wife died young and in childbirth, handing over her body and soul to the son she bore. Not just her soul, but the other one bound to it as well. Everyone knew the story of Uzumaki Kushina and the monster she kept chained inside her, and what she did to make sure it never got out.
If he resented his son for taking his wife away from him, Sakura had never seen it. Naruto was given the treatment befitting a shinobi of his caliber, and she was just his teammate. It meant late nights training and missions that were slightly too dangerous for anyone who wasn’t born with a kunai in their hand. It meant being protected by Kakashi-sensei, mocked by Sasuke-kun, and coddled by Naruto. It meant lunch at the ramen stand at least once a week, where Sakura was pretty sure her squad had a standing date with Namikaze-sama (if only so Kakashi-sensei didn’t have to pay for them all).
She was 16 when the Hokage sat next to her for the first time.
“How are you feeling, Sakura?” He waved at Teuchi-san for a bowl and fixed his blue eyes on her. The gentle curve on his lips seemed forced. “I’m sorry if my son caused you any trouble during your recovery.”
Sakura didn’t smile back. The mission had been brutal, and she had been run through with a poisoned blade that nicked her heart. The medics at the hospital told her she almost hadn’t made it in time. “I’m fine, Hokage-sama—”
“Hey, I don’t bother Sakura-chan!” Naruto yelled from a few seats down. Sakura rolled her eyes.
“Really, I’ll live. My parents are out of town for a while, so I have to figure out some stuff at home, but I’ll manage.”
Minato’s brow furrowed. “You’re home alone? You just had major surgery.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” She mumbled into her soup.
He tapped his chin in thought but was interrupted by the arrival of his food. Reaching for a pair of chopsticks, he snapped them apart and seemed to make a decision. “You could stay with us.”
She paused. “Stay with you?”
Minato hummed around a mouthful of noodles, chewing and swallowing before he answered. “Yes. I will be around with the Kumo delegation in the village for the next month or so, and Kakashi-kun hasn’t fully recovered after the overuse of his Sharingan, so your whole team will also be home. Including my son.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to… Only that she really didn’t. But he was right; it was dangerous to stay alone when she could barely walk across the village to eat. Her parents’ house was in the civilian quadrant, and she was already dreading the journey home with her itching stitches and bruised ribs. She knew from the occasional team bonding dinner that Naruto’s house was far more central, close to the hospital and Hokage Tower. There were shinobi around constantly should she ever—gods forbid—need any help. She didn’t want to, but it was the smart thing to do.
She hesitated, still not wanting to impose. “I still have to pack a bag…”
“You don’t have to decide now,” he interrupted, “but I’ll probably send someone to check on you if you don’t show up by sundown.”
There was that smile again. Sakura hated to call him disingenuous, but… It didn’t feel right. His joke fell just short, and she fed him a laugh more out of embarrassment than anything.
“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” She resigned, pushing away her half eaten bowl. “I’ll see you later.”
An ANBU agent was knocking on her door about ten minutes after she had gotten home. Her kit was only half packed.
“I wasn’t aware I needed an escort,” she grumbled.
The agent was stoic as ever as he replied, “The Hokage assigned me to take your bags to the Uzumaki residence, Sakura-san.”
Oh.
“Just… Wait here.” She slammed the door in his face and shook her head, opting not to rush just because the Hokage thought her an invalid.
It was another 20 minutes before Sakura shoved the two packed bags into the ANBU agent’s arms and shooed him away. The least she could do was check the rooms one more time and make sure the house didn’t burn down while she was gone. She also penned a note to her parents in case they returned before she did, leaving it on the dining room table where her mother always sat.
Her stitches were painful by the time Sakura reached the Uzumaki house, the sun already hidden by the treeline and the shadows creeping across the dark red and brown buildings. It only hurt a little when she lifted her arm to knock—which turned out to be unnecessary as the door swung open before she even had a chance to rap her knuckles against the wood.
She couldn’t decide if she was more confused by the fact that Minato-sama was home, or by his evening attire. The pink apron was dark in places, with a smear of whitish batter down the center. “I… Umm… Hi, Hokage-sama. Thank you for opening your home to me.”
He wiped his hands on the weathered towel tucked into the apron, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Welcome in, Sakura-chan. Please, make yourself comfortable.”