Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sakura is born a happy child. A beautiful child, too; spirited, precocious, so full of energy there are days her parents fear she just might burst. They adore their daughter whose laughter echoes throughout their apartment day and night and whose antics never fail to brighten their days. Though if anyone were to ask if she gave them any trouble then, well, their answer would probably be something along the lines of: Sakura likes to crawl up the walls and stick herself to the ceiling whenever she's in a huff – which, aside from being incredibly difficult for two civilians to deal with, also draws the sort of attention they'd honestly hoped to avoid.

It's silly, Mebuki tells one shinobi recruiter after another, that they believe they can manipulate her into doing what they want with her child. Signing her up for the academy? Not bloody likely, she says time and time again, never too shy to slam the door in their faces when they don't scram after the first 'no'. Her father too, ignores even the most acclaimed of jounin when they attempt to ambush him with their questions and forms and whatever other ridiculous method they employ to try and get him to sign his daughter's life away. Flak jackets and masks become a common sight around these parts of the civilian district, as do flying pots and pans and plenty of noise complaints (and shinobi fleeing from the Haruno household as though the very devil itself was hot on their heels.)

For the first few years of her life, Sakura is a troublesome toddler whose favourite past-time includes spiting gravity and escaping whatever cage her parents put her in to prevent being forced to scrape their beloved child off the ceiling yet again. It takes a while for Mebuki to break but once she does, she takes her daughter to the hospital where she asks the med-nin, “Is any of this even normal?” To her dismay, the answer is “no”, “it really isn't”, and “you ought to send your daughter to the academy before she starts setting things on fire” which, apparently, is a very real concern if the med-nin's obvious wariness is anything to go by.

So yes, Mebuki folds. Kizashi isn't happy about it and neither is she but what else are they supposed to do? Clearly, their daughter is meant to be a super ninja and their house isn't fireproof. All around Konoha, genin, as well as freshly minted chuunin, break out in cheers; the harrowing days of Haruno duty are over, Sakura is arranged to enter the system in two years time – the one concession the Harunos refused to budge on – and the Tora retrieval mission is once more on the menu, providing a more than welcome respite from dealing with pink-haired civilians whose aim with cookware is so accurate it's almost scary.

(It is a good thing, really, that in this particular universe, Shimura Danzo is the stalwart patron of every orphanage in Konoha instead of, say, the leader of a sinister shadow organisation mostly known for abducting children and massacring entire clans.)

On Sakura's first day at the academy, she makes five friends. The first is a shy dark-haired boy clinging to the trouser leg of his older brother. The second is a feral boy who introduces his puppy “Akamaru, and don't you forget it!” before he introduces himself. The third is a loud boy with blue eyes and flaxen hair and he's going to be the Hokage one day, believe it! The fourth is a quiet boy who hides behind a high collar and dark sunglasses but is as sweet as candy on the inside. And the fifth, well, the fifth is Ino-chan and she's going to be Sakura's bestest friend forever!

The moment Sakura and Ino first lay eyes on each other, they fall just a little bit in love. They're bright and colourful, as quick to laugh as they are to anger but spunky and fierce, equally adored by those surrounding them. Ino-chan has a mark, a dark inky bird sitting proudly on her collarbone that she never covers up. It's her, who first explains to Sakura that sometimes two people share the same soul between them and even though they may not grow up together they'll always find each other later in life. It is a coveted and beautiful thing – not everyone gets one after all – and she cannot wait until she finally meets the boy she's destined to be with.

“How'd you know it's a boy?” Sakura asks as they sit on a bench during lunch, sucking on a red candy she got from Sasuke's brother. The Uchiha make them special, Sasuke says, and they taste like cinnamon and fire and Sakura can see why they're his favourite.

“Oh please,” Ino scoffs, playing with her hair, “as if my soulmate's gonna be anyone other than a mysterious, beautiful boy with long lashes and pretty eyes.” Sakura mulls over her best friend's words for a moment, then nods in assent. Ino-chan's so beautiful it would only make sense for her soulmate to be just as beautiful himself. Plus, they both know that if Sasuke wasn't so shy and easily intimidated he'd totally be her type. “What, you don't like him?” Ino had asked once to which Sakura replied that she did like him but not like that and they're friends anyway which would just be weird. Sakura isn't special quite like Ino-chan but that's fine because she still kicks her ass during spars and that's all she needs.

(But if she had a soulmate, if, Sakura would want them to be just like Ino-chan; beautiful and wild and just as determined to make this world their own.)

Soon enough Sakura spends almost more time at Ino's than she does at home. They get along like a house on fire, especially because Sakura loves dancing and Ino has a passion for singing. Ino-chan's voice is lovely, her talent vastly eclipsing Sakura's, yet between the two of them, Sakura is the better dancer with a sort of grace Ino can't match no matter how often she tries. As a side effect of them spending almost all of their free time together, Sakura makes friends with two more boys through simple virtue of being around them; Shika is all lazybones, Chouji interested only in stuffing his face (but he makes the best cupcakes) and they all fit together like a big, messy puzzle.

Sakura's academy years are all friends, laughter, pranks, and coming in first all the time because she's the best there is and nobody can beat her ever! Though she has to work twice as hard to keep up with her year mates in terms of body strength and stamina, she has a natural aptitude for spotting and breaking genjutsu plus unrivalled control over her chakra. The few techniques they learn prove no challenge to Sakura who creates clones, trades places with objects and transforms her appearance all on her first try, prompting Kiba to yell about how she's cheating, it's not fair and her parents are civilians, what the hell! Sakura sticks out her tongue at him, finds herself with a face full of puppy, and spends the rest of the lesson helping Naruto whose first attempt at the clone jutsu turns him into a naked girl for some reason. Ino bonks him on the head for that one, causing Sakura to snicker at their antics.

She is a curious case though, Haruno Sakura, who has no clan legacy to speak of yet effortlessly keeps up with children who are born to outclass her, and even though such cases exist they're rare, if not almost entirely unheard of. More than once she is brought in for testing and she cannot count the times she tells her teachers that no, they don't have shinobi in the family, no the Haruno's aren't a secret clan from another country and no, she hasn't received training from anyone else, they should know that considering they've been hounding her family ever since she was six months old, goddamnit!

(The possibility that it might be neither of her parents she gets it from but someone else entirely, well, doesn't really occur to anyone until much, much later.)

In the end, it goes a little something like this: It's Sakura's last day at the academy and she absolutely aces the graduation exam. She never worried she wouldn't – she's easily the best kunoichi of her generation (though Ino-chan is a worthy rival) and the only one of her yearmates giving her a run for her money is Sasuke who shamelessly exploits his older brother's knowledge for his personal gain which, like, seems a little bit unfair but he's Sakura's friend so she congratulates him on winning their spar anyway. Everything's going just fine, this is shaping up to be one of the best days ever when suddenly, Sakura's whole body feels like it's on fire and she passes out mid-sentence, falling right into the arms of a bemused Sasuke who thankfully got too much practice catching fangirls over the years to drop her.

Sakura wakes to bright lights, no less than three med-nin crowding her hospital bed and her overjoyed parents standing somewhere off to the side. The pain has mostly subsided by now, full-body agony reduced to a sore spot high up on her right thigh and it is now that Sakura notices the balloons and flowers and cards on the nightstand next to her. Did she sleep through her birthday or something?

“Congratulations, Haruno-san,” one of the med-nin says with a smile and Sakura isn't sure what for so she asks but before the man can answer her question her mother pushes him aside, takes Sakura's hands, grins, and announces:

“You got a mark!”

Sakura frowns, thinking the whole thing's kind of stupid because she's twelve, why would she get a mark when she's twelve and goddamnit she missed her graduation ceremony and doesn't even know which team she's been assigned to or who her jounin sensei is, then realises with a groan that Ino-chan's going to be so mad about the whole thing because she's the only one in their entire year who has a mark and she'll never forgive Sakura for upstaging her now.

“What a drag,” she complains in a way that would make Shikamaru proud just before her eyes roll into the back of her head and she passes out once more.

Ino, as predicted, is not happy about the whole thing.

“First, you steal my top spot,” Ino smacks her arm once, “then you steal my pretty boy,” Sasuke opens his mouth to protest but is shushed by Shikamaru who knows better than to interrupt Ino when she's in the middle of something, “and now you steal my soulmark!” Ino looms over Sakura, daring her to argue but Sakura can tell Ino isn't all that angry, and points out:

“At least you can show yours off.” Which is true – Sakura's mark is located in such a way that makes it impossible for her to even try and show off without also exposing the entirety of her leg (and a good bit of her hips). She's twelve years old. She can wear tiny shorts when she's an adult – or never, according to her father – but for now she'd rather not practically undress herself just to flex a soulmark, of all things. Ino deflates slightly, then grabs Sakura by the wrist pulling her away from their friends into her room.

“I want to see it,” she demands. Sakura, being the best friend that she is, rolls her eyes and obediently pulls down her shorts, allowing Ino to scrutinise the mark to her heart's content. Though they're similarly sized, Sakura's mark couldn't look any more different, depicting three breaking waves trapped within a circle, their colours ranging from various shades of blue to a vivid orange near the crest of the waves.

“It's pretty,” Ino declares with a huff, giving it a cursory poke. “But I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl.” Sakura frowns, wondering why it even matters but electing not to say anything. To Ino, stuff like this is important.

“I don't feel any different,” she says instead and Ino rolls her eyes, looking at Sakura the same way she sometimes looks at Naruto when he opens his mouth too wide.

“Of course, you don't,” Ino declares like it's the most obvious thing in the world, “that comes later, when you – you know – meet them.” Sakura shrugs, figuring Ino would know all that better than her. She's had twelve years worth of experience and Sakura's still pretty new to this whole soulmate business. Part of her wonders how she can be so blasé about something so monumental and life-changing. There is a person out there she shares her soul with – another human being sharing her soul in turn. Shouldn't she be giddy? Or at least, mildly excited? Or like, anything other than mostly indifferent?

Maybe something went wrong, Sakura worries later that night. It took the mark twelve years to appear. She's done some research by now and even though nobody truly understands soulmarks, the rules – such as they are – are generally the same. It doesn't matter when either part of a pair is born, marks typically show up at birth. In rare cases, they show up during life-altering events, something that would change a person to the point their soul would mirror said change but Sakura feels the same way she did last week. Or maybe Ino was right and there's no point in worrying at all. In the end, Sakura decides to simply keep living. Good things come to those who wait, after all.

(And wait she does, and come do the good things.)

Sakura is on a team with two of her friends – hell yes! – and saddled with a teacher intent on ignoring all three of them (oh hell no). So whereas Ino, Shika, and Chouji get to practise their clan jutsu and teamwork, and Kiba, Shino, and Hinata are well on their way to becoming this generation's premier team of trackers, Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura... get to herd cats. Paint fences. Collect trash. Wait five, five! hours every morning for their sensei to show up only to be assigned even more D-Ranks.

But hey, at least they passed the bell test. (Screw the bloody bell test.)

Safe to say, Sakura isn't exactly happy with her teacher. She is, however, very happy with her team and together they simply decide to 1) ignore sensei, 2) never wait for sensei ever again, and 3) train on their own since sensei clearly doesn't want to teach them anything. Neither Sakura nor her friends are interested in getting themselves killed on their first mission so with the aid of nii-san – “don't call him that!” – they come up with a workable training schedule they adhere to religiously. By the time the masked menace finally elects to try and teach them anything at all, Naruto has had it up to here with cats, fences, trash, and Kakashi-sensei.

“Up to here, I say!” He's the only genin in all of Konoha who can yell at the Hokage and not get punted through the window by his guards. “Give us something else to do old man or I swear I'll blow up this whole-” Sensei snakes an arm around Naruto's throat and covers his mouth with his hand, smiling at the Hokage in the same infuriating manner he smiles every morning after he's been late again, offering one flimsy hare-brained excuse after another. It does get them their first C-Rank assignment though. Sakura gives Naruto a noogie and promises to buy him extra ramen once they're back home.

Wave, surprisingly enough, is not a complete disaster. If asked, Sakura would rate it a 4/10 but only because there was a moment she genuinely believed their silly teacher had gotten himself killed. Between the three of them, they dispatch the demon brothers if not quickly, then at least efficiently. Sakura caught a stray senbon with her right hand because she – stupidly – paid more attention to Naruto being an actual maniac on the battlefield than the second demon brother who thought her to be an easy target. Thankfully, the senbon isn't poisoned and after using a kunai to cut some fabric off her shorts, she bandages the wound. No problem.

Zabuza, on the other hand, is a problem. Kakashi-sensei merely played dead which is awesome. There's an S-Rank missing-nin trying to kill their target which is marginally less awesome. Though Sakura can't claim to like the man, they are supposed to protect him and besides, Wave Country sounds like it desperately needs that bridge he's been hired to build. So a dead client is a no-go. Which means Zabuza has to go. She's not entirely sure how to make that happen yet. Neither, apparently, is Kakashi-sensei who gets himself trapped in a bubble immediately. Honestly, does that man have any actual redeeming qualities or is he just there to sit around and look pretty?

“I'll protect the client!” Sakura calls to the two boys because she's the most level-headed out of the three of them and also the least likely to get baited into abandoning their charge. They nod, then run towards Zabuza who doesn't seem threatened in the least, outright mocking them as they try to somehow free their sensei. He sends his clones after Sakura too but she's quick on the draw and can almost hold her own – almost, until one of the clones grazes her leg with its sword, terribly close to her mark and her heart skips a beat, distracting her long enough for Zabuza to take another swing, ready to take off her head-

And simply stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He sounds... surprised. Incredulous, really. Sakura looks up, staring right into his dark eyes which are fixated on her... leg? “Pink hair? Seriously?” Sakura bristles, ready to tell him that pink is a perfectly respectable colour and why does he even care about her hair when the man suddenly loses it. He starts laughing, throwing back his head, holding his stomach with one hand as he guffaws as though Sakura having pink hair is the funniest shit he's ever seen. It takes him a while to catch himself – Naruto and Sasuke are stunned and unsure how to proceed, throwing each other uncertain glances – and once he does, Zabuza turns his head to the right, raising his voice.

“Pack it up Haku, we're leaving.” And then he leaves. He just... turns around, releases his water prison jutsu (Kakashi-sensei faceplants onto the ground, as helpful as always), and walks away. As he goes, resting the flat of his blade atop his shoulder, the last thing Sakura ever hears him say is something along the lines of:

“Fuck knows that bitch would never let me hear the end of it.”

And that, apparently, is that. Naruto does a great job putting Sakura's thoughts into words, “...what just happened?” before they shake themselves from their stupor and realise their sensei is a dead weight and they're still a few hours away from their destination. In another universe, Sakura might have gotten away with not taking turns lugging their teacher around but unfortunately, in this reality, she exercises just as much as the other two and has no excuse. Damnit.

“Did you know Kaka-sensei had a Sharingan?” Naruto asks with his hands on the back of his head, relishing in the shift change. Sasuke grunts, having resorted to dragging their teacher's unresponsive body across the ground.

“It's a common point of contention in my clan,” he explains and Naruto hums like he knows what 'contention' means and drops the subject. They make it to Tazuna's house just before nightfall. Kakashi-sensei gets dumped in a corner, Sakura and the boys arrange their futons in a row next to him and sleep. Later, once he wakes up from his eye-induced chakra exhaustion nap, he asks what happened and how they escaped. Naruto looks at Sasuke. Sasuke looks at Naruto. The both of them turn their heads to stare at Sakura who shrugs, then promptly returns her attention to her breakfast.

“He just kind of left.” Kakashi-sensei has questions but for once, Sakura elects to take a page out of his book and simply smiles at him. He tries a few more times, later, in between watching the boys struggle to stick their feet to trees while Sakura, who has been sticking to things since she was a toddler, reads up on entry-level water jutsu. Other than telling him that Zabuza won't come back (probably, maybe, it's rather unlikely), Sakura remains silent until he eventually decides she's not worth the effort and gives up. Sakura: 1, lazy sensei: 0.

So yes, Wave is a 4/10 on the danger scale. Zabuza aside, the rest of the mission consists of watching people build a bridge which is boring, yes, but also puts Sakura close enough to the water to get in some practice. Practice, that's – surprisingly enough – being supervised by Kakashi-sensei who seemingly decided he has something to teach his genin after all. Naruto and Sasuke get to learn how to stand on water while Sakura gets to figure out how to create water needles that don't immediately turn to puddles. There's a part of her, a feeling, that she shouldn't struggle with this, accompanied by an oddly foreign sense of frustration and disappointment. Sakura barely notices. She's too busy conjuring puddles.

There is a slight hiccup near the end of their mission. Gato, the local supervillain, amassed an army of bandits and decided to storm the bridge. After ranting about the fickleness of shinobi who simply walk out on missions (so that's why Zabuza was interested in the bridge builder) he commands his men to kill everyone on the bridge. Their odds aren't great. In fact, they're quite horrendous. Sasuke takes his first life. Naruto follows soon after. Sakura is the last of them to kill but she does, eventually, and as bile and disgust well up within her, they're washed away as quickly as they come. In their stead thrums a steady current of confidence and competence, the certainty that there is nothing these men can throw at her she cannot handle. Emboldened and no longer afraid, Sakura makes the signs for the water needle jutsu, aims, takes a deep breath-

and releases.

(Water rises from the sea below them, a gigantic wave crashing against the half-finished bridge, flooding the entire area and washing away Gato and his men. Sakura's head hits the ground as she passes out but just before everything goes dark, she can feel it; the satisfaction of a job well done, the utter smugness of having come out on top.)

Sakura does. not. want. to talk about it. Does anyone respect her wishes? No. Of course they don't. Sasuke and Naruto are comparatively easy to ignore but sensei isn't. And wouldn't it have been nice if that man had been anywhere near this persistent when she actually wanted his attention? She attempts to ignore him like one would ignore a fly. It doesn't work very well.

“Maah, Sakura-chan, are you ready to talk about your waterfall jutsu now?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Sensei could try and help you understand what happened there, hm?”

“I'm good, thanks.”

“Sensei has a lot of experience you know? I'm sure we could-”

He doesn't give up. Kakashi-sensei is much easier to ignore when all he does is read his porn. And no matter how much she wants to, she can't ignore the Hokage at all. Though she kind of wishes Naruto hadn't led their report with, “and then Sakura-chan, she made the water go all boom and sploosh and then they were all gone jiji, believe it!”

So here she is. Trying to explain that all she meant to do was use a water needle jutsu except what came out was most definitely not a water needle jutsu. She doesn't know why. Whatever she did sent her into a state of chakra exhaustion immediately. She's reasonably certain that she can't recreate whatever she did. No, she's still not from a clan. Yes, she's still civilian-born. No, there are no secret Harunos, we've gone over this so many times-

The impending chuunin exams looming above their heads make for a welcome reprieve, all things considered.

They sign up – of course they do! – and ace the first test though their methods of achieving success vary greatly; Naruto makes a scene, Sasuke does what they're expected to do, and Sakura picks up the pen, then answers the questions. Whereas Naruto and Sasuke are busy seizing up the competition and posturing in front of not only foreign but also local shinobi (boys), Sakura lets Ino fuss over her hair, turning a haphazard ponytail into a neat braid as they both listen to the slightly deranged purple-haired proctor explaining to them in great detail the many ways they were going to die in the Forest of Death. Sakura is aware she should be scared or at least mildly worried yet instead all she can think about is that she drowned a hundred men within the span of twenty seconds and if anyone should be scared, it's that dank forest. Ino kisses her goodbye, a slight peck on the lips causing the surrounding boys to stare at the both of them but Sakura merely squeezes her hand, wishing her luck.

“Luck? I don't need luck,” Ino replies cockily before she saunters away and Sakura shakes her head, smiling to herself as she gathers up her teammates, ready to enter the forest as soon as the signal is given.

Sakura hates the forest. It's a dark, damp, positively godless place filled to the brim with evolutionary mistakes that never should've seen the light of day – giant centipedes, massive bears dropping from the treetops like bombs, entire mosquito swarms, monstrous leeches, and worse. She gets mud in her hair ten minutes into the task and it pisses her off because does no one respect how long it takes for hair as long as hers to be properly maintained, scent, shine, softness all? The work of months, undone within a second! The forest has just made an enemy and Sakura will bring it to its knees.

They end up getting pretty lucky, all things considered. The very first team they ambush, a group of two Kusa-nin very conspicuously lacking the third member of their team, carry an Earth scroll. Two days into their task and they're all done. Now the only thing they need is to make it to the tower. Easy, right?

No. The third member of the Kusa team they robbed catches up with them about half a day's worth of distance away from the tower and it becomes very clear very quickly that said team's entire firepower rests on the shoulders of their only female member. Also, whatever they feed them in Kusagakure cannot be healthy. Joints and bones aren't supposed to move like that. They're just not. Something about the entire situation stinks. One, Sakura seriously doubts that woman is a genin like the rest of them. Not only is she seemingly untouchable (though Naruto certainly tries), immune to genjutsu (Sasuke has a talent for them, he's good) and whatever water jutsu Sakura tries to throw at her rolls like water (hah) off a duck's back, she also doesn't seem terribly interested in either of their scrolls.

The only thing she's interested in seems to be Sasuke. Naruto and Sakura fall into formation as soon as they notice, doing their best to keep that madwoman away from their resident Uchiha. The giant snake adds an unforeseen complication but one Naruto heartily throws himself against, disappearing into the darkness somewhere below them. Sakura tries not to panic. Yes, she is hopelessly outclassed, yes Sasuke is in serious danger, yes there is no one around to help them but there are upsides to the situation which are none, and they are all going to die.

Until Team 8 shows up. Hinata spots and leaves to retrieve Naruto. Kiba uses his clan's specialised attacks to run interference for Sasuke. Shino makes his bugs do their best to chip away at the Kusa-nin's charka. They're still nowhere close to gaining any ground but the scales are no longer weighed in their enemy's favour quite as much. And then, then, Team 10 shows up and upon setting eyes on Ino's bright blonde hair Sakura is so relieved she wants to cry. There are too many of them now to not draw attention. They're a crowd and now they're making a ruckus. They have Shikamaru, who lit an emergency flare before sprinting after Ino, muttering about how much he hates running. Whatever the Kusa-nin wanted from Sasuke she was going to have to do without.

(“My eyes,” Sasuke growls later when they're alone and out of earshot; “The eyes are the only thing they ever want from us.”)

The preliminaries are an enlightening experience. Since all three of them plan on making it right to the end, they pay close attention to the other genin especially those they haven't seen fight before. Half of her friends win their rounds except for Kiba who can't compete with Naruto's infinite stamina, Hinata who falls victim to clan politics and one hell of a grudge, Chouji who surrenders after throwing up his last meal, and Shikamaru who takes one look at the only female Suna-nin then promptly surrenders as well, clearly not able to bother with that giant fan of hers.

Sasuke on the other hand relatively easily overpowers the Konoha girl with a penchant for seals and weapons, Ino tricks a Sound-nin into surrendering with her clan jutsu (Sakura cheers especially hard for her because they're best friends and Ino is awesome!), Shino figuratively bleeds his opponent dry, and Sakura herself isn't even fazed by her opponent's genjutsu, shrugging them off like they're nothing before gleefully beating the girl into submission. One thing, however, becomes abundantly clear – whoever was going to have to fight the Suna-nin who crushed his opponent into a bloody, gory mess was screwed.

“It's me, isn't it?” Sakura doesn't look. She doesn't look but she knows because her friends are quiet all of a sudden, and they're never quiet. She takes a peek, moving her fingers aside just so, and sure enough there it is, Haruno Sakura vs Sabaku no Gaara, displayed in bright neon letters.

“Goddamnit.”

They are each assigned different teachers in order to prepare for the third exam. Sasuke disappears into the Uchiha compound where his relatives will take care of his training. Naruto leaves with an old pervert who is, allegedly, one of the legendary sannin though the jury's still out on that one. Sakura is stuck with Kakashi-sensei. Lovely.

“I want to learn more elemental jutsu,” Sakura declares, vaguely remembering the tidbit about Kakashi-sensei having copied countless techniques from his enemies over the decades he's been active so there's no way he can worm his way out of this one. He smiles and pulls out a piece of paper from the depths of his jacket, offering it to her. She takes it, frowns at it, then realises what she's holding and sends some chakra into the paper. It becomes wet and soggy first, then turns to mud, and as the mud drips onto the ground the remains catch fire, sizzling merrily in the grass. Huh. Well. Who would've guessed.

“No,” Sakura insists with grit teeth, “I don't have clan origins.” Three affinities. What a doozy.

Water comes to her easiest so that's the one they focus on most. Gaara wields sand as his weapon and soggy sand is no better than mud which, Sakura fervently hopes, will hamper his ability to play catch with her entrails. On top of ninjutsu training, sensei (and that's what she calls him, now that he actually teaches her) makes her run laps. Against the dogs. So many times. She needs to be quicker on her feet than she currently is if she hopes to remain unscathed. Sakura understands his training regimen even though she personally disagrees with its execution. A week before the month of training is up he introduces her to fire jutsu and teaches her a single, low-rank earth technique for defensive purposes. Sakura really, really likes the fire.

The arena is packed with spectators and the mood is incredibly infectious. Sakura spins Ino around in circles as they head towards the area reserved for participants, laughing gaily like they did when they were younger. Warmth pools in the depths of Sakura's belly, a bubbling heat spreading to every cell of her body and she finds her smiles come easier these days than they used to; a joy reminiscent of her academy days, unbridled and wild and free. Ino-chan gives her another small kiss before she heads down into the arena to face Naruto and even though Sakura supports them both, she still secretly hopes Ino wins.

Sakura's spirits dampen slightly when she doesn't. She's not wholly surprised considering Ino is part of a trio and her individual combat abilities are less of a priority than the cohesiveness of her unit. Still, it stings to see Ino's smile turn into an annoyed frown which only doubles Sakura's resolve to win no matter what it takes. The match didn't last very long – Naruto backed Ino into a corner and forced her to surrender after only a few minutes.

Sasuke's match against the Hyuuga on the other hand quickly turns into a war of attrition. It's a bad match-up for Sasuke whose strengths lie in his genjutsu usage and his kenjutsu, neither of which are terribly effective against a taijutsu expert with a byakugan. In the end, Sasuke collapses under the strain and passes out but nobody with half a mind would consider his performance lacking – not when he had to do without his bloodline limit and still stood his ground for as long as he did.

And then it's Sakura's turn. As soon as she steps into the arena facing the boy who will kill her if she gives him half a chance, an eerie sense of calm settles around her shoulders like a cloak. Confidence in spite of certain death, whispers soothing the parts of her that want to sweat and shake. She's not afraid, she tells herself in a slightly foreign tone. He is a child wielding the power of a demon but he's young and she's strong.

The match begins and Sakura runs. Her heart beats calmly inside her chest, her breath comes steady and controlled. His sand is quick and relentless so she must be quicker, exhausting his power until he is weak enough to be struck. She valiantly ignores the crunching and grinding of sand against the concrete walls of the arena, striking where she was a moment ago, always lagging behind ever so slightly. Her own stamina is finite but Kakashi-sensei told her the boy kills suddenly and indiscriminately, likely not used to prolonged engagements. He'll tire quickly.

Sakura starts using low-rank water jutsu, testing the limits of his sand, adding the occasional fire jutsu into the mix only to despair at how little an effect they seem to have. If only she had a lightning affinity she could have punched through his shell and put an end to this before he squishes her like an overripe melon. The panic gradually creeps to the forefront of her awareness, quieting the whispers of encouragement spurring Sakura's heels. If push comes to shove, what can she really do to him? He is a monster. A demon. Sooner or later, it will happen – Sakura will stumble and fall and die.

All at once, Sakura stops dead in her tracks. She turns her head, facing Gaara and the towering wall of sand rushing towards her. This is it, she thinks. This is how she's going to die; a bloodied smear on the ground, painting the arena red, decorating it with her bones. She is exhausted and though she's gasping for air her lungs feel full, her belly heavy and ready to burst. There's pressure on her chest and it moves up, forcing its way through her throat, leaving behind a burning trail of fiery agony. Her mouth fills up, her cheeks stretch until they reach their limit and her lungs expand as the sand comes closer, closer, closer-

Sakura takes a deep breath, inhales air through her nose, and pushes it down to her lungs, makes it move, makes it dance. It pushes in turn, forcing its way upwards, an explosive force ready to burst free and then, just as the sand is about to envelop her and become her grave, Sakura opens her mouth

and exhales.

Joyful laughter echoes in her ears as her world lights up. The fire claws its way from the depths of her belly, flowing freely through her entire body, transforming, changing shape inside her mouth, dripping from her lips, launching itself at the enemy. She is blinded and cannot see what is happening but she can hear the gasps and the cheers, the stunned silence and the furious howls. She wants to laugh herself, mock, jeer, and gloat because he is younger and she is stronger. He rages and screams and tries to kill her still even though he knows he lost, thrashing about like a mindless beast. Little by little the fire takes as the agony increases until she feels as though she's burning up from the inside. It stops then, its last remains running down her chin, hissing as they meet the ground. The laughter fades, the malice dies down. Sakura finds back to herself and lays eyes upon what she's done.

(Up on the stands, Naruto has yet to shut his mouth as he gapes at the scene before him, quietly muttering to himself,

“What the absolute fuck.”)

Chapter Text

The entire arena – all of it, every single square and inch – is covered in blackened, scorched glass. Towers and arches of coiled obsidian reach high up towards the sky, crashing into each other like breaking waves, all leading to the very centre of the arena where they formed a perfect sphere, its surface glittery and streaked with molten lava. The sphere pulses rhythmically, emanating a bright orange glow and it occurs to Sakura then and there that this is what has become of Gaara's perfect defence; an impenetrable shield of sand melted into a thick layer of black glass, turning an erstwhile sanctuary into a cell.

She did that. Civilian Haruno Sakura spewed molten rock and trapped a demon child in its own prison and she's also somehow not dead. Sure, she burnt up her throat, the inside of her mouth is covered in boils, and she quite possibly fried her vocal chords in the process but she did that and she doesn't know how, and the fact that the only real, coherent thought she has, is that now they'll never leave her alone again probably speaks for itself. Seriously, though.

What the hell.

Whatever victories Sakura might have celebrated are short-lived as the silence is interrupted by a furious howl, followed by the ear-shattering screech of nails scratching glass. She takes a step back and for good reason too as no longer than five seconds after she thought she's won, the prison cracks, gives, shattering into a million pieces. And in place of Gaara towers a sand-made monstrosity of massive proportions. Its single furious eye glares at Sakura who's frozen in place. Sand swirls all around the arena, scratching her skin, and just when she thinks 'Oh well, this is it,' the beast roars once more, turns around, and runs off leaving a demon-shaped hole in the walls of the arena.

Sakura barely registers the screams all around her, the feathers falling from the sky, and the fact that they're being invaded by not one but two foreign nations completely passes her by. She shouldn't chase after the monster but her stubborn pride won't simply let it go. She can create lava from nothing but elemental chakra and a dream, can't she? Gaara is her enemy, he's her target, and besides, she fought a demon like him before – one with two more tails than this, so the ichibi can go and eat it. All these thoughts and feelings fluttering around inside Sakura's head go mostly unnoticed except for one single word sitting at the very forefront of her mind, not that it really makes a difference.

Sakura has no idea what a jinchuuriki is.

Naruto ends up befriending the psychopath because of course he does. Naruto also learned to summon giant toads. Naturally, Naruto ends up being the true hero of the day which suits Sakura just fine. She's not in much of a state to argue, unsure of how many bones exactly she broke and still very much unable to speak. By the time they make it back to Konoha proper the invasion is over, their Hokage dead, and Sasuke furious his clan refused to let him fight in order to keep him far away from the maniac – Orochimaru, the second member of the legendary sannin – who tried to take his eyes. He did, however, finally awaken his Sharingan and Sakura is tactful enough to not ask how he did it.

Konoha is a little bit chaotic, afterwards. Their leadership is in shambles, nobody wants the council taking charge of things (Shimura Danzo especially takes a stand against them, reminding them of the many times they attempted to turn his orphanages into pseudo recruitment offices, ready and willing to throw young children into the grinder) and the answer to all their problems is, apparently, Senju Tsunade, third member of the sannin, notorious alcoholic, missing-nin extraordinaire. Sakura is in no shape to go looking for her so the task falls to Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke (who refuses to let his clan coddle him further), Naruto, and a mask named Tenzo.

She wishes them luck, then prepares to face the music. Sakura endures the blood tests, the examinations, the enquiries into her genetic history. She's aware of her parents being brought in for questioning themselves although Haruno Mebuki and Haruno Kizashi are too busy thanking the gods that Sakura developed her lava-spewing capabilities outside of their home to pay them much mind. The lack of results frustrate everyone involved and it is decided that Sakura's case will be added to the pile of 'things that are the Hokage's problem now'. Sakura is grateful for the breather, allows herself two more days to recuperate, then conducts some research of her own.

Lava Release, as Sakura quickly discovers, is – in fact – an elemental bloodline, and Sakura really should not have been able to use it. She knows there's absolutely no chance she got the ability from her parents or any of her ancestors. They might be a family of civilians but they're part of a clan of merchants that's kind of a pretty big deal in the Land of Tea. They keep track of every marriage, every child, every extramarital dalliance, there is no way a shinobi with a bloodline would have simply fallen between the cracks. If her parents don't know about any ninja in their family it's because there weren't any.

So where does it come from? Sakura briefly entertains the possibility of being born a genius of truly epic proportions and discards it just as quickly. She learned her first earth jutsu a mere week before her arena fight, there's no way she simply reverse-engineered the technique, that's not how bloodlines work. No, there's no way around the monumental issue of bloodlines being inheritable only, no tricks, no shortcuts, nothing. It doesn't help that knowledge of other village bloodlines is scarce, restricted information no genin has access to. Sakura hits a wall and is very not happy about it.

It happens three days later when Sakura, fed up with her lack of success, decides to take a time-out. She's at home, soaking in the tub, massaging body oil into her skin. She has been neglecting herself lately, too busy being worked to the bone by Kakashi-sensei which left precious little time to maintain her appearance. So here she is, giving herself the attention she deserves. Sakura's fingers make their way from her calves to her thighs, briefly pausing once they brush over the mark etched into her skin.

It's strange, Sakura muses, how easy it is to forget about the mark in the first place. It's unobtrusive most days since her clothes always cover it and besides, it hasn't really had the impact on her life she expected. Ino always led her to believe there was... more to the whole affair and yet Sakura can't claim anything changed much since the day it showed up on her skin. Well, if one ignored the incident in Wave Country or, say, the entire third round of the exams. Absent-mindedly she traces the waves with her index finger, moving from blue to orange to blue to orange, catching herself realising that her mark genuinely is quite pretty; wild ocean waves cresting into bouts of flame, reminiscent of the sea reflecting the light of dawn, bright and glowing like hot, molten, scorching lava-

And then, suddenly and all at once, the pieces slowly begin to fall into place.

“Hey, Ino-chan,” Sakura addresses her best friend as she succeeds in stealing a piece of perfectly grilled beef off her plate, “can soulmarks make you more powerful?” Ino nearly stabs the back of her hand with a chopstick but Sakura's reflexes are better so she ends up hitting the table instead.

“Keep your hands to yourself, you fiend,” Ino grouses, rolling her eyes when Sakura sticks out her tongue. “And I don't think so. At least mine doesn't do anything like that.” She squints her pale blue eyes at Sakura who puffs her cheeks, staring at the ceiling.

“Why, do you believe your mark has anything to do with that mysterious kekkei genkei of yours?” Ino is clever and Sakura should have expected her to catch on immediately.

“Seems about as likely as anything else,” Sakura says with a shrug, foregoing the usual 'my family doesn't have any bloodline techniques' in favour of chewing on the chicken she ordered. It doesn't taste as good as Ino's beef which is a little strange – chicken used to be Sakura's favourite.

“Fine.” Ino growls, furrowing her brows in annoyance. “I'll go to the library with you.” That, right there, is why they're best friends forever. Sakura squeals, slings her arms around Ino's waist and burrows her face in the blonde's neck.

“Ino-chan, you're the best!”

As it turns out, research on soulmates is highly classified. Somehow, Sakura is convinced they should have expected that. Ino, not one to give up at the first sign of trouble takes Sakura's hand and leads her all the way back to her clan compound where she makes sure her father isn't in, tells Sakura to never let him know what they're doing, and unlocks the door leading to the Yamanaka archives.

“I'm the first Yamanaka that was born with a mark in over a hundred years,” Ino boasts proudly, “so tou-san collected all the information he could find. There has got to be something useful in here somewhere.”

Sakura has to hand it to Inoichi-san, he found a lot. Most of the information he amassed comes in the form of journals, diaries, and letters rather than medical files or research reports but Sakura figures it's still better than nothing. Together, they smuggle as much as they can carry out of the archives moments before the Yamanaka clan head returns home, thankfully none the wiser. Under the guise of a sleepover, they spend the whole night combing through scrolls and leather-bound booklets, giggling at some of the downright obscene love letters soulmates sent each other. Most of what they find doesn't seem all that useful until Ino plops herself down next to Sakura, rolling out a particularly crinkled scroll in front of them, pointing her finger at one of the paragraphs. The letters are hard to see, the script faded but if she squints hard enough, she can just about make out individual words and sentences.

“The soul yearns to find balance within itself,” she narrates slowly, moving the scroll closer to the light. “And strives for harmony in all aspects of its being.” What follows, are the surprisingly coherent musings of a young scholar on the nature of souls and the bonds they create with others. He speaks of men and women of similar age who inevitably find themselves drawn to their other halves be it due to similar interests, outside circumstances, or personal journeys.

They might be called fate, or perhaps destiny – no matter their name or nature, there seem to be forces in this world guiding those marked to where they need to go, in order to become one. I have travelled the world, seeking out those marked in a bid to unravel the mystery and it took me many years until I encountered an anomaly capable of shedding some light on the soul's enigma. Most marked are born under similar circumstances – close in age and power, though their place of birth might see them on opposite ends of the continent. There are, however, exceptions to the rule.

The soul, I learned, protects itself; wielding incomprehensible power to safeguard its individual parts. If one of its halves is of noticeably weaker health compared to the other, it has a way of opening invisible gates, borrowing the strength of its more resilient counterpart as a way to even the scales. I have read accounts of simple farmers being capable of feats they wouldn't have imagined in their wildest dreams, only to later discover their soulmate wielding the same powers they borrowed in times of great distress. I deduce from this, that the soul is of greater sentience than I previously assumed, displaying an indomitable will to survive as well as the awareness necessary to develop mechanisms that guarantee it.

“Well,” Ino says after a long, heavy minute of silence, “there you have it.” There she has it, indeed. It seems a little too easy, Sakura supposes, to have all the answers so readily available and she can already hear Kakashi-sensei nagging her to 'look underneath the underneath' but it all makes such perfect sense. Sakura doesn't have a bloodline ability but she can use one. What if it's not hers but her soulmate's? Both times she managed to use ninjutsu she clearly isn't capable of she was stuck in life-threatening situations with no way out other than being saved by a miracle.

“Think you can do it again?” Sakura looks at Ino whose pretty pink lips are spread into a wide, mischievous grin that makes Sakura wonder, briefly, if they taste just as nice as they smell, of the strawberry chapstick Ino-chan brings with her wherever she goes. But she banishes those thoughts with a single shake of her head, then returns the grin, and asks:

“Want to try?”

And try, they do. The next morning, Ino and Sakura leave the Yamanaka compound before the sun is up, chasing each other to Team 10's preferred training grounds. Neither really knows where to start but Sakura knows Lava Release is the combination of Fire and Earth Release so Ino proposes Sakura should try and combine the two in her mouth. Needless to say, it doesn't work very well and Sakura's first attempts mostly consist of her looking constipated while trying her best to not throw up the breakfast she ate earlier. Ino acts like it's hilarious. Sakura, who has become extremely adept at creating puddles out of thin air, dumps a whole bucket's worth of water onto Ino's head. They don't make a lot of progress that day.

(And once Sakura finally does, she promptly chokes on the lava, then vomits it all over the grass. Ino is too busy laughing her ass off to help.)

The Godaime Hokage is... something, alright. Sakura might have been intimidated, might've, if she wasn't too busy laughing at Naruto who got himself punted through a window, learning the excruciatingly painful lesson that not everyone takes being called ancient well. Once all violence has been dished out, the assembled Rookie 9 receive their results of the chuunin exams and while being promoted to chuunin would be nice, Sakura doesn't particularly expect it. She also doesn't expect Ino to receive a promotion but she'd be wrong on that account – apparently holding one's own against Naruto while knowing one's limits and when to give up is a staple of good leadership. She squeals as soon as Ino accepts her jacket, throwing her arms around her best friend who hasn't quite realised that she's the first genin of their year to get promoted.

“And you.” Keenly aware of being stared at, Sakura turns her head to the side, finding the Godaime's eyes resting on her forehead, hands rifling through one of the many stacks of paper cluttering her desk. “I heard something about you being a first generation bloodline user?” Feeling the strong urge to nip that particular misconception in the bud before it becomes a problem, again, Sakura shakes her head, extracting herself from Ino's semi-hug.

“I'm not,” she declares, not wilting under the intense look she gets in return. Sakura is pretty sure that woman could move mountains if she wanted to but that's alright because she likes that in a person.

“It says here you spat an entire volcano's worth of lava during the third exam and turned the arena into an obsidian hell site,” the Godaime reads with a pinched expression before squinting her eyes at Sakura. “I have half a mind to charge you for the repairs, you know?” There's no way she can afford that so Sakura really hopes she won't.

“I use a bloodline ability,” Sakura explains, “but it's not mine.” She watches as the Godaime visibly reaches the limits of her patience and wonders if the consequences are worth poking her a little harder, just to see what she's like when she explodes. Blithely, Sakura wonders if she's always been this suicidal but finds it hard to find an answer to that question.

“Elaborate,” the woman damn near growls. Sakura decides not to push her luck – there are witnesses but she doesn't imagine that'll stop the Godaime from adding a Sakura-shaped hole right next to Naruto's. Turning to the side, she reaches for the hem of her shorts and pulls them all the way up to her thigh, allowing the woman a glimpse at the bottom half of her mark. She appears to understand the implications immediately, humming pensively before murmuring:

“Well, I can't say I expected that.” She pauses briefly, before asking: “Do you know who it is?” Sakura shakes her head, having tried – and failed – to figure out whose clan is in possession of this particular brand of Lava Release.

“Good,” the Godaime speaks resolutely, “keep it that way.” Suddenly and all at once, Sakura's temper rears its ugly head and she opens her mouth, ready to protest to hell and back because who does she think she is to try and come between Sakura finding her soulmate – only to be interrupted before she can even begin.

“I don't want a fresh-faced genin looking for what is likely a high-ranked shinobi from a hostile nation or worse, a missing-nin.” And while the woman might have a point, Sakura is very not happy about it. “No, you'll stay right here, figure out how to control the kekkei-genkai-that's-not-yours, and maybe, in ten years or so when you're at least chuunin, we can revisit this discussion.” It's obvious that the Hokage is done with her, having already moved on to other matters, so Sakura leaves without saying anything else. It's fine, whatever. Chuunin? She can be a chuunin. No one gets to tell her what she can or can't do. And ten years? Pah. She'll do it in three.

Not much happens during the first two years. Sakura wakes early every single day and when she's not running missions under Ino-chan's leadership, she's training. Every now and then, she gets assigned to other squads and over time, earns herself a nice little reputation as an up-and-coming ninjutsu powerhouse. And also as a cocky, occasionally stupidly confident part-time lunatic. Sakura, who learned to appreciate Mitarashi Anko's way of handling missions, especially once they go sideways, finds the moniker quite flattering.

So yeah, everything is going great. She's got a decent handle on her Lava Release by now (no more throwing up, no more chest pain, and also no more fried vocal cords, yay!), she's finally earning enough money to subsidize her rather expensive lifestyle, and through virtue of being close friends with one Uchiha Sasuke, gets a free life-long subscription to the Uchiha family soap opera (not a single member of that clan, bar nii-san, is happy about Sasuke's aspirations of becoming a first-class med-nin.) There is only one... small problem:

Sakura is 15 years old and Ino finally meets her soulmate.

His name is Sai and he is a civilian artist. He is also, just like Ino predicted, mysterious and beautiful with long lashes and pretty dark eyes. He is also a walking, talking lie detector just like Ino-chan and Sakura is happy for her, she is, but damn her if she's not also a tiny little bit jealous. Sai stole Ino from her and yes, maybe Ino never belonged to Sakura in the first place, maybe, but that doesn't mean she's not pissed off about the whole thing. Sakura doesn't like Sai. Sai is determined to befriend everyone Ino knows but especially her very bestest friend forever.

(What an utter shitshow.)

So maybe Sakura is feeling a little lonely, now that Ino-chan is too busy with stupid Sai, Naruto has yet to return from his road trip with pervert sannin and Sasuke gets no free time, ever. Apprenticing under the Godaime sounds like a real nightmare and Sakura's thankful she's not the one who ended up in his place. She ends up drinking her first cup of sake by herself, sitting in a dimly lit bar way past midnight and it takes her an entire hour to realise the only other patron is none other than the Godaime, who lets her know that if she tells Shizune-san where she's hiding, she'll kick her ass. It sounds like a challenge but it's not, so Sakura tells the quiet voice urging her to push the woman's buttons just to see what happens to zip it.

(Sakura's been there, done that, and earned herself a joint lesson in boulder dodging with Sasuke. Never again.)

Back when Sakura was still in the academy, she thought they'd all be together like that forever. In reality, however, everyone's busy with their own missions, their own training, their own everything. Rookie 8 – Naruto's still gone, he doesn't count – dinners that used to be an almost weekly occurrence now take place every few months, if that – and when they do, Ino brings Sai so the whole thing sucks anyway. Sakura orders fish, Ino frowns and says “You hate fish,” and Sakura replies, “You don't know me,” and yeah maybe she does have a little bit of an attitude problem but that's none of anyone's business.

It all comes to a head eventually, as things tend to do:

Sakura just returned home from a three day long mission and the only thing she wants is a warm cup of sake before bed. What she gets instead, is Ino ambushing her on the way to Sakura's favourite bar, forcing the kind of conversation Sakura doesn't want to have.

“Care to tell me why you've been so bitchy lately?” And what an opener that is. Sakura really doesn't want to have this conversation, so she offers Ino a simple, listless “whatever” but Ino wouldn't be Ino if she didn't force the issue. She rounds on Sakura, pushes a finger into her sternum, and goes:

“Every single time I see you, you're in such a mood. What the hell is wrong with you, hm?” What's wrong with her? What's wrong with HER?

“Nothing's wrong with me,” Sakura growls, gritting her teeth. “If you hate hanging around me so much just go back to your stupid soulmate and leave me alone.” She realises her monumental screw-up immediately. The worst mistake people can make when talking to Ino is being honest. It takes less than a single breath for the cogs in Ino's head to stop spinning and Sakura fervently wishes she'd pulled a Sasuke and just kept walking.

“You're jealous,” Ino breathes and no, they're not talking about this – not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are!” That's it. She's had enough. Sakura whirls around, ready and able to shunshin away but Ino grabs her wrist, pulling her backwards.

“You have a soulmate too, just in case you forgot, it's not like you're never going to meet them-”

“Who gives a shit about my soulmate?!” She can feel it; the fire, the madness, emerging from the pits of her belly, the way it does when she's hurt or scared or angry (or all three). “You fucking replaced me!”

“Replaced you?!” Ino sounds like she can't believe what she's hearing, as though the mere notion is ridiculous. As though she hasn't completely stopped reaching out to Sakura, as though these days, Sakura isn't more likely to learn when Ino's in the village from her father than Ino herself, as though they had done anything or gone anywhere within the past year without Sai being there and ruining everything!

“We used to be best friends spending all our time together and now it's impossible for me to even see you walking down the street without your latest accessory by your side-”

“Don't you dare talk about him like that-” They stand on opposite sides of the roads, red-faced and short of breath, and maybe this is just the sort of thing that happens when you become friends as children and expect things to never change. When you never even consider the possibility that one of these days, the other might just... move on.

“Fine, whatever,” Sakura murmurs, the flame dancing within her belly snuffed out, all fight leaving her body in one fell swoop. “I don't need you anyway.” She knows Ino can tell she's lying but right now, Sakura finds it hard to care.

Naruto returns to Konoha two weeks before they're set to leave for Suna in order to participate in the next round of chuunin exams. Sakura, who has spent as little time in the village as possible since her friendship with Ino went up in flames, doesn't find out until three days later when Kakashi-sensei (he's still alive? Neat) shows up at her dedicated training grounds with Naruto and Sasuke in tow.

“Team spar!” he declares, then belatedly adds: “Don't do anything to each other Sasuke can't fix.” Sakura, who has no idea what Sasuke can or cannot fix, or what Naruto has been up to these past few years, wastes no time pulling her punches. Naruto lets out an indignant squawk as a spray of lava narrowly misses his head, singing the ends of his hair.

“Hey, you learned to control it!” he exclaims, Sakura yells: “Sure did!” and then chases him around the training area, happily churning through her chakra reserves, figuring they've got a medic right there who can probably take care of her in case she overdoes it. Lava Release is a chakra-hungry technique but just as the Godaime said, liberal use of one's chakra over time grows one's reserves. It's like exercising a muscle. And practical reasons aside, Sakura simply enjoys the feel of it; the warmth coursing through her body, the heat the lava radiates brushing against her skin. She can't even remember the last time she felt cold at night.

Afterwards – Naruto's stamina is still infinite but he acquired some wisdom on that trip of his, and now consciously fights around the fact that he can simply outlast his opponent – Sakura lies on the grass next to her boys when Naruto mentions Sai, who he met once, and can't stand. It makes her laugh, prompting Naruto to then ask her about Ino which kills whatever mirth still lingered at the back of Sakura's throat immediately.

“I moved on,” she says with a shrug, deceptively casual, very much intent on ignoring what the mere mention of Ino does to her. Naruto doesn't get it – because why would he – but Sakura refuses to explain. To her right, Sasuke shakes his head muttering something about “girls” before Sakura changes the topic, asking about Naruto's adventures with ero-sennin instead and it's nice to know that he can still be distracted as easily as he did three years ago. Sasuke, fully aware of what she's done, gives a single undignified snort yet thankfully refuses to comment further.

On the day of their departure to Suna, the Godaime issues a warning to Sakura, forbidding her from making use of her bloodline during the exams. She doesn't want any foreign shinobi sniffing around her village and nothing grabs the attention of foreign shinobi as much as a Konoha genin using a bloodline ability that's very much not native to Konoha. Sakura gives her a listless “sure,” the resulting glare doing nothing to faze her. No one can tell her what to do – it's her technique, her specialty – and if word were to make it back to, say, a certain other Lava Release user, then Sakura wouldn't terribly mind.

For Team 7, the first part of the exam is a joke. Between Sasuke's med-nin capabilities, Naruto's nigh invincible exterior, and Sakura's water jutsu proficiency, surviving three days in the harsh desert is so much of a no-brainer they treat the whole thing like some sort of mini vacation. By the time the second stage of the exams rolls around, a 3v3v3v3 match of Capture the Flag, they're energised, refreshed, and ready to rumble.

(The other teams don't even stand a chance. At one point, Naruto runs around with eight flags total attached to his belt – Sakura delights in watching her fellow genin trying to keep up with that particular force of nature.)

The third stage is familiar enough and also the one Sakura looked forward to the most. Survival exercises and war games are fun and all but what she really wants is to fight. She's not a twelve year old little girl relying on miracles anymore; she's strong and ready to prove it, eager to show off in front of an audience. She remembers the Godaime's warning as she steps into the ring for the first time but heeds it only because she doesn't want to reveal all her cards from the get-go. She mops the floor with the Suna-nin she's matched against and advances to the next round without suffering even so much as a scratch.

As the third stage progresses, Sakura has to admit it though; she's consistently getting the easiest match-ups compared to everyone else. The other Konoha genin are forced to fight each other or go up against the best of what the other villages have to offer. Sakura, meanwhile, gets fed table scraps – tired stragglers who spent most of their energy on their previous matches. Without a good showing, she can kiss her promotion goodbye. Safe to say, she's getting restless and irritated... at least until Naruto gets smashed into the walls of the arena, knocked out by an Iwa shinobi. Already, Sakura can see the writing on the wall; at this point, she's basically guaranteed to end up in the finals of her bracket, meanwhile Naruto was the strongest candidate for leader of the second bracket. And that Iwa-nin...

“She's the Tsuchikage's granddaughter,” Kakashi-sensei explains as a group of med-nin carry Naruto out of the arena. “They expect her to win the tournament.” Not if Sakura has anything to say about it. She watched the fight closely. The Iwa-nin was a bad opponent for Naruto from the start, who quickly found himself overwhelmed by the variety of earth, fire, and water jutsu in the girl's arsenal, an obvious ninjutsu specialist with a preference for earth techniques. On paper, the Iwa-nin and Sakura look similar in terms of fighting style and the last time Sakura sparred with Naruto, she lost – though neither of them treated their fight seriously. That girl looks like she's a tough nut to crack but then again, nothing worthwhile ever comes for free.

“Kurotsuchi of Iwagakure vs Haruno Sakura of Konohagakure!” She can tell the Iwa-nin doesn't anticipate much resistance from her, as she seizes Sakura up. And why would she? None of her previous fights posed much of a challenge. She'll underestimate her and the thought alone makes Sakura smile. The proctor leaves the arena, reappears in the stands, then signals the start of the match. At first, nothing interesting happens. Kurotsuchi isn't nearly as overconfident as Sakura expected her to be, opting to slowly test Sakura's limits through a series of mid-level elemental jutsu. She responds in kind, the both of them dancing around each other rather than throwing themselves into the fray kunai blazing. Sakura fully expects to get bored first... well, until Kurotsuchi shapes her fingers in a very familiar set of seals, inhales, puffs out her cheeks, and spits a shower of bowl-sized lava rocks in Sakura's general direction. And Sakura... Sakura blinks, then throws her head back and laughs.

(Kakashi sees what happens, closes his eyes in resignation, and hopes the Godaime will be too preoccupied with yelling at his troublesome genin to remember she sent him along to keep her in check in the first place.)

“Lava Release?” she calls out to Kurotsuchi as she nimbly evades the rock barrage, deciding then and there to throw all caution in the wind. Euphoria erupts from the depths of her soul, pooling in her chest, spreading to every corner of her body. She readily accepts what she is given, allowing her chakra to fuel the fire churning inside her belly. Screw the Godaime's reservations, Sakura thinks kindly, there's no way in hell she'll let the Tsuchikage's granddaughter beat her. “I can do that too.”

Whereas Kurotsuchi clearly treats her Lava Release as a supplementary technique to work in conjunction with the rest of her abilities, Sakura uses hers as her ace – the crowning glory of her fighting style. Lava floods the arena, melting sand, chewing through rock and earth alike, burning holes in every defensive structure Kurotsuchi sets up. She's got her on the run, forced her on the backfoot, and she remembers this exhilarating feeling from the day she first found herself fighting in an arena – the thrill of the chase, this game of cat and mouse – and knows, deep down, there is no greater joy than that.

“Ne, Kakashi-sensei, Tsunade baa-chan is gonna is gonna rip you a new one,” Naruto comments blithely, resting his chin atop his hands, watching as Sakura toys with her opponent in the way a cat might play with its food. Sensei doesn't reply but makes a quiet sound in his throat like a small puppy that's been stepped on.

Kurotsuchi surrenders once half of her dress is gone and the ends of her hair are thoroughly singed – it's a good thing their match was the last of the day because the arena's been rendered borderline unusable. Kurotsuchi put up a good fight and the damage to the environment as a result of two elemental jutsu specialists duking it out is never pretty. She's gracious in the face of defeat – a good loser – and Sakura shakes her hand with a smirk – ever the bad winner. As Sakura exits the arena, about to rejoin her team, she is briefly intercepted by two Kiri-nin who ask what clan she belongs to.

“Civilian-born and proud of it,” Sakura replies before Naruto appears seemingly out of nowhere, telling the genin that it's a sore subject and they really shouldn't ask those kinds of questions, then promptly drags her away. “At least now baa-chan can't get mad at me,” he declares, obviously pleased with himself. Kakashi-sensei, on the other hand, looks like he's about to crash his own burial while Sasuke merely Hn's, calling her a menace. Sakura takes it as a compliment.

The Godaime Hokage does not.

“WHAT THE HELL, BRAT!” Sakura finds it very, very hard to keep the smile off her face, knowing giving in to her urges would land her in the hospital. It's so hard not to strut about like she owns the place, smug little creature that she is. She's been intolerably pleased with herself for the entire duration of the journey to Konoha but personally, she's convinced she earned it. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU, HUH? WHAT DID I SAY YOU WERE NOT ALLOWED TO DO?!”

If the Godaime believes giving her a dressing down of truly epic proportions in front of all her friends will somehow dampen her spirits, then she's sorely mistaken. Still, Sakura stonewalls the woman to the best of her ability, letting the Godaime's rage wash over her.

“And now I have letters coming in from Kirigakure of all places, enquiring about the,” The Hokage briefly stops her tirade to check her notes, “chuunin candidate carrying a bloodline that's been in possession of Kirigakure since its bloody founding!” Now that's interesting. Sakura visibly perks up and she can see it on the Godaime's face, that the woman just realised what vital piece of information she unintentionally handed to Sakura free of charge. The Hokage takes a deep breath then deflates, all her previous anger turned into resignation.

“You're quickly becoming my worst fucking headache, did you know that, kid?” Sakura did not know that. She's also really not all that bothered.

“Whatever. All of you, you're promoted. I need more chuunin and you kids could have done a lot worse.” She shoots Sakura a dirty look. “Yes, that includes you. But you're already on probation, you hear me? Step out of line again and I'll make sure you'll be stuck on village duty for the next twenty years.” This time, she doesn't manage to stop the grin from showing on her face and accepts her vest, running her hand over the brand-new material. It fits perfectly as though it's been tailored to her body and while it's not the most fashionable of garments, it's the result of her success so she'll wear it proudly.

“Y'know what, brat?” Sakura looks up, finding the Godaime's gaze on her once more. “Gotta hand it to you – didn't think you'd win against Oonoki's spawn.” Sakura's grin morphs into a smirk and she crosses her arms in front of her chest, jutting out her hip.

“And I made it look so easy, too.” The Godaime's eye twitches and Sakura can practically taste just how close she is to driving this woman insane.

“If your damn soulmate's anything like you, I hope I'll never have to meet them,” she grunts before making a shooing motion whilst opening the top drawer of her desk where she keeps her sake. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”

(And though she doesn't quite know it yet, the universe is having its laugh entirely at Senju Tsunade's expense.)

Chapter Text

“I was told you got promoted.” Sakura hears her before she can see her; she slides into the empty seat next to Sakura, freshly manicured fingers reaching for the open bottle of sake standing on the table. Sakura closes her eyes for a single moment, inhaling the sweet perfume clinging to Ino, trying to ignore the urge to look at her.

“Hn.” Sasuke would be proud of her. She matched his inflection perfectly. Ino doesn't bother with a cup, bringing the bottle to her lips, taking a long sip before leaning backwards, resting her head against the back of her seat.

“Alright,” she admits quietly, “maybe I have been neglecting you a little.” It's been three months since Sakura returned from Suna and she hasn't seen Ino once – and that's without Sakura actively avoiding her. At this point, she didn't think they'd ever speak again. She expected Ino to track her down this late at night even less.

“It's just...” Ino sighs, fingers running across the bottle she still holds between her hands. Her hands get restless when she's nervous. Sakura ignores the urge to take them between her own, clasping them gently until they stop moving. “You haven't met her yet, you know? You... you'll get it. Once you do.” Sakura blinks, wondering if she heard correctly.

“Her?” she asks, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly, catching the faint smile flittering across Ino's face.

“You never cared about boys, even when we were kids.” Ino points out like it should be obvious and maybe she's right. Growing up, she was the one who'd gossip and point out every pretty boy they'd come across – Sakura had nodded along and agreed because she figured Ino knew what she was talking about, not because she felt similarly. Taking another sip, she allows the silence to stretch on, unsure what to say.

“You should give him a chance.” Ino gingerly reaches for Sakura's hands, tugging at them until she turns her head to fully face her erstwhile best friend. “He's not going anywhere.” No, Sakura supposes, he won't. That's the thing with soulmates, isn't it? Once found, they're almost impossible to separate.

“He tries, you know? He just...” Ino pauses, struggling to find the right words to express herself but even so, Sakura would have to be blind to miss the fondness in her tone, or the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Growing up, he spent more time around his art supplies than people. Give him some time.” Sakura doesn't like doubting herself. And yet...

“It's not a competition. There's more than enough space in my heart for the both of you.” And how can she begrudge Ino her happiness? Ever since the day they met, they lifted each other up, always of the same mind, if not the same soul. Had she been unfair? Yeah. Maybe.

“Fine,” Sakura murmurs, stroking the back of Ino's hand with her thumb. “I'll try. But only because it's you.” She doesn't need to look to know Ino is smiling at her; softly, gently, the way she did when they were children. Sakura slides further into the booth, making more space for Ino who rests her head on Sakura's shoulder, pulling up her legs to rest them on the seat.

“Couldn't ask for more.”

A few weeks later, Ino throws Sakura's 16^th birthday party. Every single one of her friends is there, they all chipped in to rent half of Yakiniku Q for an entire evening, and by the time Sai approaches her, Sakura's cheeks are already flushed, her breath already reeking of sake. No matter how drunk she is, she can tell he's uncomfortable – it's too loud, there are too many people, and he's a little awkward so totally not his venue. But he's here anyway. Sure, Ino probably made him come but he did and that's what really matters.

“I was told we had a bad start,” he offers stiffly and Sakura squints her eyes at him, not sure if he's trying to be funny or not (it's hard to tell with him). Her eyes slide from his face down to his abs, where Ino's mark is located – a sprig of purple bush clovers forming a half-circle around his navel – and she catches herself thinking that it's quite cute of him to display his mark so openly. Ino definitely loves it. “So I have come to make amends.”

He's got nothing to apologise for, not that Sakura lets him know, and she's too curious to find out what he's hiding behind his back to interrupt him anyway. “A gift,” he says, then hands her a large scroll. “I thought it might be too personal but Ino assured me you would like it.” Sakura takes it, rolls it out on a nearby table and wow, wow, she sure does. Depicted on the scroll is a perfect copy of her mark – painted in watery inks, the colours are incredibly vivid and bleed into each other, creating an illusion of motion if viewed from just the right angle. Ino told her Sai was an artist but she didn't tell her he was so damn talented.

“Not too personal,” she tells him, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him over to where the rest of her friends are sitting. “Ino-chan's always right.” She puts a drink in his hands, then makes him sit down next to Sasuke and thinks, yeah, maybe she can find a way to warm up to him after all.

(The loving smile Ino sends her once they're all together and Sakura asks Sai how young he was when he first started painting makes it all worth it a thousand times over.)

Sakura's missions take her farther and farther away from Konoha. It happens entirely by choice; though she's a mere chuunin and chuunin don't get many solo missions, Sakura has a way of elbowing her way into teams that don't strictly require her expertise but won't turn down the additional muscle either. Though she's still regarded as somewhat arrogant and too willful by far, Sakura can be charming enough when she wants to. And if all else fails, her reputation tends to precede her – she gets shit done, and never runs when things get difficult. It takes the Godaime two whole months until she notices what Sakura is doing. Or, which is rather more likely, until she can be bothered enough to call her out on it.

“You're an idiot,” she greets her one early morning as she sits behind the mission desk, clearly both still drunk and incredibly hungover. “Don't think you're being sneaky, cuz you're not.” Sakura can't quite stop the corners of her mouth from curling upwards, self-satisfied like a well-fed cat.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she replies as though her eyes weren't already busy scanning the various assignments laid out on the three desks in front of her. Grass, Fire, Fire, Earth, Wind, Grass, Rice, Tea, Rock, Rain, Fire, Waves, Wood. There you are.

“Eyes up here, brat.” Her gaze flickers to the Godaime, who directs a single hand gesture at the chuunin manning the desk Sakura is interested in. He gets off his seat and, to Sakura's utter dismay, reaches for the Wood mission scroll, placing it directly in front of the Hokage. The woman grabs the scroll, dangling it in front of Sakura like a delicious treat.

“You want this, you're going to behave.” It sounds like a threat, though she really doesn't know what she's done to warrant the Godaime's scrutiny. Yes, well, maybe she's been a little too audacious but it's not like she ever disobeyed anyone's orders. Sakura has yet to place a single toe over the invisible border separating the Land of Wood and the Land of Water.

“I'm assigning you a team captain. Fuck knows you need someone to keep you in line.” Sakura wants to snort in disbelief, yet wisely chooses not to. She's worked with a variety of chuunin team captains since her promotion, and isn't all that worried about her ability to run circles around them should she need to. That is, until said new team leader poofs into existence right in front of the Godaime, flashing a peace sign at her, the corner of his one visible eye crinkled in amusement.

“Good morning, my cute little chuunin!” Oh for fucks's sake. The Godaime grins at her like she's won this round and Sakura has to admit – well played. It takes less than a second for the door behind her to burst open, revealing two shinobi – one sour-faced and dressed in all black, the other so orange it hurts – and Sakura can almost tell what's coming next:

“Welcome back to Team 7, Sakura-chan!”

Seriously, it's almost like they don't want her to ever meet her soulmate.

Kakashi, as it turns out, has opinions about Kirigakure. There was a war, some odd few years ago, and they were on the other side. Sakura won't pry but it's clear whatever happened still haunts the man to the point where he makes it completely impossible for Sakura to stretch her legs even a little as soon as they get anywhere near the ocean. The whole point of her taking these missions is to get as close to the ocean as possible. There's a very obvious conflict of interest here – one Sakura finds it increasingly difficult to come out on top of.

It is pure luck then, or perhaps something akin to fate, that sees her separated from her team after an unexpected clash with some Kumo shinobi. Protocol dictates the medic is to be protected at all costs, and Sasuke possesses the kind of eyes that are very much of interest to a nation known for gratuitous bloodline theft. Kakashi-sensei assigns himself to guard duty, leaving Sakura to spearhead the assault, Naruto following at her heels. Between the four of them, they force the Kumo-nin to flee soon enough but Kakashi-sensei makes the fatal mistake of not issuing his orders quickly enough; before he can tell Sakura to stand down, abandon pursuit, she's already out of earshot. He really should've known better.

She catches up with the Kumo-nin near the shore. So near, she can taste salt on her tongue and smell the ocean in the air before she breaks through the trees, laying eyes upon the stormy sea. She pays little attention to the stragglers as she disposes of them. They were exhausted and weak, barely worth the chase. But the sea... Sakura closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, keenly aware of the deep-seated longing wrapping itself around her heart; an emotion she's strangely familiar with, despite never having experienced herself.

She feels... homesick.

“Haruno Sakura?” She flinches, abruptly torn from her thoughts by a soft, sweet-sounding voice coming from her left. It's a boy, or perhaps a girl, she can't quite tell – their face is hidden by a mask, their body covered in a pristine white kimono lacking any sort of identifiable markers.

“Who's asking?” The person slowly reaches inside their kimono, pulling a small dark pouch from its depths.

“A simple messenger,” they reply before throwing the pouch high up in the air, “delivering a token of admiration from a friend.” Sakura catches the pouch despite knowing she probably shouldn't. It's not heavy and, her curiousity getting the better of her, she pulls at the strings, shaking the pouch until its contents drop onto her open palm. Whatever she expected, she can safely claim it wasn't what she actually got; a gleaming silver necklace attached to a pretty, dark blue jellyfish-shaped pendant. She takes the pendant between her fingers, holding it up towards the sky, momentarily rendered speechless by the way the stone sparkles and glitters like a perfectly cut diamond.

“Hey, who is-” Sakura looks back down but the mystery messenger has already disappeared. Well. So much for that. She returns her attention to the necklace, then to the thick, grey fog obscuring the islands of Water Country. So her soulmate definitely knows who she is, then, and isn't above using a middle-man to make contact. But she still doesn't have a face. Or even a name. Nothing but a token of admiration from a friend.

Once she reunites with her team, Kakashi is mad – a little – Naruto is worried – a lot – and Sakura is utterly unrepentant, quietly smiling to herself as they race back home, fingers gently stroking the pendant hidden underneath her dress.

(It's still more than she had yesterday.)

The necklace is the first gift. It's most certainly not the last. They keep coming in, and Sakura can never quite tell when exactly, but every so often she will return from a mission only to find a new parcel, a pouch, or a small package sitting on the window sill of her childhood room. Sometimes, it's a small bundle of expertly crafted kunai (chakra conductive and so far beyond expensive she almost feels a little guilty about pocketing them), and other times small trinkets or baubles she uses to decorate her room.

It's uncanny, the way her soulmate appears to know what she likes despite never having met her. Sakura has a fondness for shiny things and delights over every single deep sea creature figurine she can place on her window sill, be it seals playing in the ocean or jellyfish made out of glass she can hang from the ceiling or beautifully intricate miniature coral reefs cut from a pale jade that's the exact same shade of green as Sakura's eyes. Her favourite, however, is the hairpin waiting for her half a year after her encounter with the Kiri-nin. Carved from bone and decorated with two brilliant stones – one dark blue, the other flaming orange – its tip is so sharp she can use it as a weapon in a pinch, a perfect blend of beauty and practicality, and something about it makes Sakura's heart flutter in a way she hasn't experienced since the day she first laid eyes on Ino-chan.

(Sakura takes to pinning up half her hair, letting the rest fall freely down her back and from that moment forth, doesn't leave the house without the pin ever again.)

There are talks of a military alliance with Kiri. Though 'talks' is perhaps a bit generous – Naruto is a chatty drunk, and the first habit he picked up from the Godaime as her official Junior Hokage Apprentice, is her tendency to drown all her problems in alcohol. Sakura doesn't even have to coerce him to talk, he simply does, complaining about the literal mountains of paperwork the Godaime makes him sort through all because the new Mizukage finally brought her house in order, and decided now's the best time to make friends. Naturally, the truth is a bit more complicated than that but the result remains the same.

She gets out of Naruto what she can, which isn't much. She probes him here and there, feeding him as much ramen as she can but eventually, between slurping down one mouthful of noodles after another, he tells her he's under strict orders from the Godaime to not tell her too much, lest she finds yet another way to become a problem.

“Baa-chan called you a serious threat to diplomacy and her own personal sanity,” is what he says. “I don't think she'd like it if I told you about what they're planning.” At the very least he seems suitably apologetic, so Sakura does her best to not hold it against him. And it's not like he's the only person she knows. He's just the easiest to bribe. “You'll find out with everyone else, I guess.” Sakura suppresses the urge to snort. Yeah, right. Because she'll be content sit back and twiddle her thumbs, waiting for all the good things to come when she could go out there and take them instead. She's not twelve anymore. She's done waiting.

That same evening, she leaves a note on her window sill, signing it with her name, and adding a crude drawing of her mark to the top left corner of the scroll. She may not know who her soulmate is, or if they have any say in their village's proceedings whatsoever, but they must have enough weight to throw around to employ messengers and hire shinobi to infiltrate the village to deliver gifts. If anyone can figure out how to get Sakura involved in Konoha's business with Kirigakure, surely it would be them. She adds a pressed cherry blossom inside the envelope, smiling to herself as she does so. Ino would be proud of her.

Speaking of Ino:

“Are you ever going to tell me where you got that necklace from?” Sakura blinks, looking down on herself, noticing she's been playing with the pendant again. Her hands have started to develop a mind of their own, always touching her hair, the necklace or the collar of her dress. She's restless. How long has it been since she last went on a mission? Two weeks, three? After the latest stunt she pulled, the Godaime temporarily benched her and Sakura's forced vacation is going about as well as is to be expected.

“It was a gift,” she replies idly, listlessly poking the food in front of her. She now lost the taste for chicken entirely, so she doesn't even know why she ordered it. Oh, right. She didn't. Ino took care of their orders. “I don't like chicken anymore.” Ino rolls her eyes but reaches over to swap their plates anyway and Sakura can't quite help the way her face lights up at the gesture. Yummy, seafood.

“You are aware of the implications of a girl receiving expensive jewellery, right?” Sakura nods, happily munching on some lemon shrimp, realising just how hungry she'd been.

“It's from my soulmate,” she mentions in between bites, covering her mouth with her hand. It's a poor showing of table manners but better than Ino getting too far ahead of herself, thinking Sakura's out here collecting admirers when she really isn't. Sakura loves Ino-chan but she's a meddler, and it's always best to curb those tendencies before they grow out of control.

“Wait, you finally met her?” Ino's brows shoot up, almost threatening to merge with her hairline. Sakura quickly shakes her head, scanning their surroundings. If word were to make it back to, say, the Godaime that Sakura's sort of in contact with her soulmate, that woman would never have Sakura leave Konoha ever again. Lowering her voice in an effort to keep their conversation private, Sakura recounts the events that ultimately led to her temporary suspension from Team 7. She tells Ino about the presents showing up on her window sill and allows her to pull the pin out of her hair in order to take a closer look at it.

“That's fine craftsmanship,” Ino comments, running her fingers over thin, polished bone. “Accessories like that don't come cheap. Whoever your soulmate is, she's got expensive taste.” Something they have in common, for sure. Sakura lowers her head, waiting until Ino fixes up her hair, returning the pin to its rightful place.

“So, she knows who you are but clearly doesn't want you to know who she is.” Sakura shrugs, trying not to let it get to her too much. It rankles, sure, their relationship – such as it is – being entirely one-sided; her soulmate knows her name, where she lives, what she likes, yet refuses to return the favour. She trusts that there's a reason for all this secrecy. Still... nobody enjoys being left in the dark for prolonged amounts of time. Ino appears thoughtful, tapping her bottom lip with her index finger, humming pensively.

“You know, Sakura-chan...” Sakura squints her eyes, intimately familiar with that sing-song-y tone of voice Ino uses whenever she's about to share one of her little secrets. She hoards them like Sakura hoards pretty trinkets and parts with them just as rarely. “Rumour has it the Godaime is currently quite busy negotiating the terms and conditions of Kirigakure becoming the host of the next set of chuunin exams.” That sounds exactly like the type of information the Hokage would order Naruto to keep his mouth shut about.

“Are you sure?” Sakura asks, not wanting to get ahead of herself too much. The wheels in her head are already turning, and she wonders if her letter reached its intended recipient by now. Ino flicks her hair behind her back, gazing upon Sakura with mild disappointment.

“Please, I always fact-check my sources. That gag order Naruto's under applies only to you.” Ino can be scary and Naruto would definitely think twice about lying to her. Excitement courses through Sakura's body at the prospect of finally having found the opportunity she's been so desperately waiting for. All she has to do now is worm her way into the Godaime's good graces. Or, alternatively, hope her soulmate works some magic of their own.

When she returns home later that night, the letter is gone and in its place, lies a single shimmering pink pearl.

(Days later, somewhere else, and many miles away, freshly manicured fingers open a letter from Konoha, catching a dried cherry blossom before it can drift onto the ground. A single green eye scans the scroll word for word, painted lips splitting into a teethy, joyous smile. “Oh my, how precious.”)

“Let me come with you.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No!”

“I'll do whatever you tell me to, I'll even-”

“I SAID NO, BRAT!”

Sakura casually avoids the empty bottle of sake being thrown at her head, very much used to the way the Godaime aims her improvised weaponry. The first one is always free, meant to scare off whomever annoys her. It's the second, one has to worry about.

“How do you even know about that, huh?” The Godaime glowers at her from her seat, papers haphazardly strewn all over her desk. Sakura must've come at a bad time and she'd feel a lot more guilt if it wasn't downright impossible for her to secure an audience with the Hokage in the first place. It's almost as if that woman doesn't want to talk to her. “Did the little shit run his mouth?”

Naruto yelps, cowering behind a scroll, begging Sakura with his eyes to save his hide from his master's wrath. Sakura rolls her eyes, thoroughly unimpressed by the Godaime cracking her knuckles, mostly because she knows her odds of getting punted through a window are currently much lower than Naruto's.

“I'll follow every single one of your orders. I won't run off by myself. I'll be the most obedient little chuunin you've ever seen in your entire life.” She's not exactly a fan of begging like a dog for table scraps but she needs this, goddamnit. Naruto stares at her as though she's grown a second head, and Sakura does her best to ignore the shinobi manning the doors, refusing to let her pride be her downfall. “Let. Me. Come.”

The Godaime rounds her desk, coming to a stand in front of Sakura. She's so close, that Sakura can smell the sake in her breath and count the individual freckles dotting her cheeks. The woman leans forward until their noses almost touch, puts her hands on her hips, and says:

“No.”

“But WHY-”

“LEAVE! GET OUT!”

“Take me with you-” And there goes the second bottle, zipping past Sakura's ear, shattering against the wall behind her. A low growl rumbles in her throat but before she can do something she'll definitely regret later, Sakura closes her eyes and counts to ten. Fine. Fine. She doesn't need that woman's permission. She'll find a way to Kiri. Somehow. And just to spite her, Sakura will make sure to be on her best fucking behaviour, too.

(Weeks later, somewhere else, and many miles away, freshly manicured fingers address a letter to the Godaime Hokage before sending it off towards Konoha via courier, Sakura none the wiser.)

Sakura turns 17 lost somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Earth Country, End of the Fucking World. It's the first mission in months that takes her past the borders of Fire Country so of course everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Is this some sort of divine punishment? It has to be, she thinks glumly as she drags yet another corpse off the road, casting a sideways glance at her team captain who's still alive and hasn't passed out again, so that's nice.

“Happy birthday, Sakura,” she murmurs to herself, vowing to pack her things and take a self-approved vacation in the Land of Water after she made it back home and delivered her report, consequences be damned. She checks on her captain again, only to find his eyes closed this time and though she can tell he's still breathing, he's most definitely not conscious.

“...I hate this country.”

It takes three whole days of blood, sweat and misery to return to Konoha. Once she does, all she wants is to take a bath, get drunk, and sleep, preferably in that exact order. Sakura drops off her captain at the hospital, checks in with the mission office, and makes it halfway across the village, eager to wash off the dirt and grime when she is intercepted by one of the Godaime's flying monkeys.

“The Hokage requests your presence in her office.” Of course she does. Why wouldn't she? Some days, Sakura swears, that woman's sole purpose in life is to make hers miserable.

“Like, right now?” The ANBU tilts his head to the side, letting his silence speak for itself and Sakura only barely – barely – manages not to throw her hands up in the air in annoyance. The Godaime really couldn't wait until she at least showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes? What in the goddamn hell could be so important that Sakura wasn't allowed to get all the blood out of her hair first?

“You look like shit,” the Godaime says in lieu of a greeting, giving Sakura a brief once-over, moments after she walks through the door. She rolls her eyes, absent-mindedly scratching her neck, fingers getting caught on the chain of her necklace.

“Thanks, I noticed.” Her voice couldn't sound any flatter if she tried. Part of Sakura aches to demand to be dismissed but she knows what happens to those who make demands of a cranky Godaime (and judging from the look on the woman's face someone already thoroughly ruined her day), so she bites her tongue instead.

“Do you know why you're here?” Now that sounds like a trick question. Sakura frowns as realisation slowly trickles in – someone pissed her off, yes, but nothing's broken yet and the office is suspiciously devoid of assistants or gophers, lending credence to Sakura's suspicion that whatever went wrong, somehow the Godaime will find a way to blame it on her. Which seems to become a running theme around these parts and Sakura can't claim she's all that happy about it.

“Care to tell me, brat,” Yeah, whatever happened is undoubtedly Sakura's fault. “Why I have a letter sitting on my desk, signed by Mizukage herself, personally inviting you to the chuunin exams hosted in Kirigakure in two month's time?” Sakura blinks. The gears in her head turn, stutter, and stop. Wait, what?

“What?” Very eloquent. The Godaime narrows her eyes at Sakura, likely searching for signs of deception or anything else that might land her in trouble. Does she know about the gifts and the window sill? Sakura hopes not. It's best for her continued health and safety if no one, bar Ino, ever finds out about the gifts and the window sill. She takes great care to school her face into the most neutral expression she's capable of, deciding then and there that nothing related to gifts, window sills, or mysterious Kiri-nin is in any way, shape or form, relevant to the situation at hand. In her defence, she didn't expect the actual Mizukage to get involved – her soulmate must have a lot more influence than she previously assumed (and isn't that just a doozy.)

“Fucking hell, kid,” the Godaime explains, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “you know I can't turn down a personal invitation from the Mizukage, right?” Sakura notes that bottles have yet to be thrown and voices have yet to be raised and wonders if she finally managed the unmanageable; wearing that woman down until she can't even find it within herself to get angry anymore.

“Although that's most certainly what you wanted to happen in the first place.” Sakura does her best to look innocent, meeting and holding the Godaime's flinty gaze without breaking a sweat. “How convenient for you.” Sakura thinks of Sai, who hides his feelings behind sweet, fake smiles and imitates him to the best of her ability, curving her eyes just so; the Godaime lets out a low growl before visibly deflating, holding her head as though suffering from a sudden onset of a vicious headache.

“If you don't behave, I'll put you into the ground.” Sakura inclines her head in agreement, for once knowing better than to gloat in the face of success. She's this close to getting exactly what she wants. A little bit of humility now will go a long way in ensuring she'll get to have her cake and eat it, too. She's cocky, not stupid. The Godaime looks at her one last time, staring her down from where she's bowed over her desk.

“I know you had something to do with this and you better pray I never find out what it was.” Noted. Duly, duly noted. Sakura leaves the Hokage's office as nonchalantly as possible but the second her boots touch gravel, she punches the air, whooping in joy, caring little for the attention she's drawing to herself. Passage to Kiri secured! Hell, yes.

(“I fucking hate that kid so much Shizune, I don't even know what to do about her anymore, I need a goddamn drink-”)

Sakura receives the final gift a day before they're set to depart from Konoha. It's a thick, slate grey insulated scarf woven from the sort of fabric you'd use if you were planning on travelling to a cold, stormy region. The material is soft and unexpectedly light, smelling faintly of floral perfume, smoke, and salt. It makes her wonder if Ino's been right after all; it's the scent of a woman, rather than a man, and Sakura catches herself secretly hoping for the former.

To say Sakura is antsy when their group assembles by the gates would be a monumental understatement. She went over her pack four times before she left the house (chakra-conductive kunai, two spare dresses, snacks, makeup and hairbrush, perfume, underwear, socks, and the jade hairpin she'd commissioned as a sister piece to the one she wears in her hair, wrapped up in a pretty parcel, check-) but the Godaime is still missing and so are the genin teams. Ino comes to see her off and to wish her luck and she's the one who eventually grabs Sakura by the arm, forcing her to stop pacing.

“Oh my God, Sakura, chill. Sit down or I'll make you.” Ino uses her scary voice, so Sakura listens, sits down, and attempts to chill. Needless to say, it doesn't go very well and by the time they're finally ready to go, Ino's more than happy to watch her leave. She still yells words of encouragement after her which Sakura genuinely appreciates. Ino is a good friend.

(The best.)

Nothing happens on the way to Kirigakure. The biggest challenge Sakura faces is to keep pace with the rest of the group, forcing herself to slow down whenever she feels a wave of ire coming at her from the general direction of the Godaime. The closer they are to the border, the harder it gets and by the time they reach Wood Country, Sakura starts counting to sixty, comes to a full stop, counts to ten, resumes running, rinse and repeat. It's a nerve-wracking experience for everyone involved but better than Sakura charging head-first into the ocean all by herself.

There's an escort waiting for them as soon as they cross into Water Country territory. Most of the Kiri-nin look tall and rough, except for one; this one, Sakura resolutely refuses to look at just on the off-chance they might give her away. Despite giving them the cold shoulder, she's sure they're smiling at her from underneath their mask as they offer her a hand, helping her hop onto one of the boats like a proper gentleperson. They're icy to the touch, positively frigid, and whatever faint suspicion Sakura might've had concerning their possible identity as her soulmate gets crushed immediately. Though she's never met the woman, she knows, deep down, her blood runs just as hot as Sakura's.

Eventually, the mists begin to thin, revealing sharp, jagged rock formations jutting out of the water, lethal to anyone lacking the knowledge of how to navigate past them. Sakura's more thankful for the scarf slung around her shoulders than ever – the bitter cold, combined with strong winds and roiling waves sees their group shivering and drenched to the bone, resembling a pack of drowned rats. Exceptions are limited to the Godaime, the jounin sensei and Sakura herself, who use low-level water jutsu to keep their clothes damp instead of soaked.

“If you wish, you may visit the bathhouses before meeting with Mizukage-sama,” the masked nin proposes and though she listens closely, Sakura still can't quite tell whether they're male or female. “The other delegations have taken her up on the offer.” Sakura can see why. The weather could be worse, true, but it could also be much, much better.

“Send the kids to warm up. I'll go see Terumi first and you are coming with me.” Sakura doesn't need to turn around to know who the Godaime is talking to and rolls her eyes at the woman's tone of voice. She sure appears to expect Sakura to run off at the earliest opportunity and cause at least one major diplomatic incident in the process. The lack of faith feels almost insulting but now's not the time to pick a fight. The fog finally clears, revealing sandy shores, rickety piers, and the silhouettes of their welcoming committee – a group of four shinobi flanking the woman leading them and though Sakura has never seen her before, the Kage hat perched atop her head gives her away immediately.

“Senju,” she drawls, her voice warm and sweet like honey, sending pleasant shivers down Sakura's spine. She takes a single step forward, what little remains of the mist dispersing around her as she moves, revealing a tall, slender woman clad entirely in blue. Thick, auburn waves of hair cover half of her face and tumble down her back, her smile is pretty, pink, and razor-sharp like a knife. There's an edge to her that shows in every single movement she makes, betraying the outward smoothness of her appearance. She looks soft but Sakura can tell she's not; graceful like a cat, and just as eager to pounce.

Then, suddenly, the woman's piercing green eye lands on her, and for a fraction of a second, her demeanour shifts. The edge sharpens, the air surrounding them warms ever so slightly, the world begins to spin and Sakura's vision starts to blur – and then, her gaze moves on and the moment passes.

“Terumi.” Sakura blinks, remembering that she's not alone, shaking her head in an attempt to fully find back to herself. She sneaks another glance at the Mizukage but this time, finds nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing but an older, beautiful woman whose openness and amiable nature paint a stark contrast to the grimness of her bodyguards – a single splash of colour surrounded by an ocean of greys.

“And who might you be, pretty flower?” The Mizukage turns, resting one hand on her waist, angling her entire body towards Sakura, tilting her head just so and she gets it then, abruptly realising what exactly it is about the woman, that's so familiar to her. On the surface, she is breathtaking like Ino; charming and deadly, a vibrant rose with a stem wrapped in barbed wire.

“Haruno Sakura,” she replies, not trusting herself to say more than that. She's got her confused, not much, just enough, and Sakura is convinced she'll be able to breathe easier once that woman stops looking at her. There's something off about her, something strange, something eerie. She makes her head hurt but despite her misgivings about this woman she just met, Sakura finds it nigh impossible to avert her eyes.

“Ah.” Her face lights up in recognition, yet to Sakura's ears, the surprise tinging her voice sounds entirely insincere. “Why, I've heard so much about you.” The Mizukage's undisguised interest in her makes her want to hide but she stands her ground even though she feels naked and trapped in place, all of herself laid bare before a stranger who, inexplicably, doesn't seem like that much of a stranger at all.

“Only good things, I hope,” Sakura responds quietly, managing to keep her voice steady, her tone light and unconcerned. The Mizukage's smile widens into a grin that's equal parts dazzlingly beautiful and downright unnerving, displaying every single one of her pearly white teeth.

“The best,” she purrs, then chuckles, leaning closer as though preparing to share a particularly scandalous little secret.

“Welcome to Kirigakure no Sato,

little saltkin.”

(And it is now, that Sakura finds herself forced to reevaluate her opinion of the woman standing before her – who, on the outside may seem like Ino, but underneath, is really nothing like her at all.)

Chapter Text

Their delegation draws no small amount of notice from both Kiri-nin and civilians as they trudge through the streets of Kirigakure. The village is greener than Sakura expected, although the ever-present mist makes everything appear dark and dreary. It’s also a lot more vertical than Konoha which she kind of likes. Kiri architecture is all tall towers, spires, and stairs – a welcome change of scenery, for sure. Their accommodations are located near the top of one of those towers, and well, you really can’t get that kind of view anywhere in Konohagakure.

Sakura is put under strict orders to not roam the village without an escort. Not because the Mizukage said so, no, it’s the Godaime Hokage who doesn’t trust her not to get herself into trouble, and at this point, Sakura has officially run out of patience. She nods, hums, and agrees where appropriate, vowing to do the exact opposite of what she’s being told. The Godaime’s going to have her hands full with the exams, and Sakura fully plans on falling through the cracks. Her soulmate knows who she is and what she looks like; all she has to do is to be found.

It is astounding how uninteresting chuunin exams can be when one’s not an active participant and has to do a lot of sitting, standing, and waiting. On the bright side, the lack of action leaves Sakura a lot of time to search the audience for... anything, really. She has no idea where to start with attempting to identify her soulmate, but the pink hair is kind of a dead giveaway, and she knows she’s not imagining the eyes following her wherever she goes. Her appearance is loud – bright pinks, pristine whites, and deeply saturated reds are hard to ignore, after all – which makes it impossible for her to blend into the background. Though she has to admit... the sheer amount of attention she is getting makes Sakura wary and wonder if there’s a crucial piece of the puzzle she’s missing, because it seems as though everyone around her knows something she most definitely doesn’t.

Still, she puts her best foot forward wherever she goes, though to her mild dismay, the people of Kirigakure are a lot less personable than those of Konoha. Not that their chilly attitude comes as much of a surprise (she’s read the pamphlets, thank you very much) but they’re so utterly uninterested in giving her the time of day beyond staring at her it’s getting harder and harder to keep smiling at whomever she meets – at least until she is formally introduced to Chojuro, the Mizukage’s retainer and also one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. He’s shy but sweet and apparently the only shinobi in all of Kirigakure who’s not opposed to making friends. Sakura, who is used to being surrounded by forceful personalities, takes to him like a fish to water despite his more demure nature – especially once she finds out that he’s only two years older than her and already made jounin.

“I want to fight you,” she declares with an easy smile, announcing her intentions in front of both Kage, and then some, undaunted by the glower the Godaime sends her way. Her lack of success has tainted her mood long enough. Plus, like this, she can put herself where she’s most comfortable; the spotlight, the absolute epicentre of attention. And maybe, just maybe, she’s been looking for an excuse to flaunt her Kiri bloodline ever since she stepped off the boat.

“Absolutely not.” She should’ve known the Godaime would try to ruin this for her. Sakura ignores the Hokage, intent on pretending she didn’t hear her as she stares at Chojuro, who silently seeks the approval of the Mizukage.

“Oh, Senju, let them enjoy themselves.” Sakura suppresses the urge to shudder, telling herself off for allowing that woman to get under her skin with nothing but her voice. “Besides,” she turns her gaze – unnaturally green, there’s something utterly disquieting about that colour – to Sakura, and she knows she’s not imagining the predatory glint flickering in her eye. “I do want to see what all the fuss is about.”

“That girl is a pain in my ass, I don’t need you encouraging her.” Sakura blinks, tearing herself away from the Mizukage, only then becoming aware of the rapid beat of her heart and how light-headed it’s making her feel.

“It really is no trouble. Chojuro should be a good match for someone of her... temperament.” And what exactly, Sakura asks herself, no longer listening to the back-and-forth between the two Kage as they make their way to a nearby training ground, would a stranger know about her temperament? She thinks of the letter she sent, the Mizukage’s reply, the strangeness of the woman’s behaviour whenever Sakura is around. Whoever her soulmate is, she must be a lot closer to the Mizukage than Sakura expected.

Once they have reached their destination, she takes note of the audience they gathered. She’s read enough about Kiri’s culture to know that fighting to the death is as much of a training exercise as it is a hobby around these parts, and Chojuro, carrying one of the seven swords, is kind of a big deal all by himself. She wonders how many of them are actually interested in her, and how many came simply to see a Leaf-nin get flattened by one of their own.

“Don’t do something I’ll make you regret,” the Godaime warns her moments before she is about to step into the ring, prompting Sakura to roll her eyes.

“Don’t hold yourself back,” the Mizukage cuts in with a wink, giving her the type of smile Sakura is used to seeing on Sai’s face – something artificial and altogether hollow and yet she can just about catch a glimpse of what’s hiding underneath; glee, joy, and excitement, a combination she’s so intimately familiar with, seeing it in someone else is jarring. Sakura realises she’s staring, and tears herself away from the woman’s face, joining Chojuro in the middle of their makeshift arena.

She sizes him up in an attempt to figure out what she’s in for, but big sword aside, it’s honestly hard to tell. He must be accomplished, quite possibly way out of her league, not that she’ll let any of that stop her. She’s at her most dangerous across medium distances after all, and that sword’s rather short. All she has to do is not get hit. How hard could it possibly be?

Chojuro, as it turns out, is really fucking fast.

Now, Sakura’s no slouch. Her speed is her greatest defensive asset, as her entire fighting style revolves around being quick on her feet and throwing out ungodly amounts of elemental ninjutsu. Yet somehow (what the hell do they feed them in Kiri?) she’s having a terrible time doing her best to stay away from that bloody sword, unable to fall into the steady rhythm of combat she’s so used to. The worst part is that he doesn’t do anything else. If Chojuro is capable of using genjutsu or elemental jutsu, he clearly doesn’t need to, and honestly, that’s what irritates Sakura the most. So, she pushes back.

Sakura firmly believes that the best strategy is to fight fire with fire. She forgoes the low-level techniques she usually employs when testing the waters entirely and skips straight to the heavy hitters. Never one to pull her punches, she aims for his face and his arms – anything to get that stupid sword as far away from her as humanly possible. She doesn’t want to find out what it does once it loses the bandages. Alternating between water, earth, and fire jutsu, she searches for a gap in his defence so she can finally gain the upper hand, only to come up frustratingly empty. The quiet voice of reason sitting at the very back of her mind reminds her that she’s fighting a jounin and absolutely nobody expects her to win. The other, much louder voice yells, it’s go time.

Sakura vaults backwards in a wide arc, bringing as much distance between her and Chojuro as possible. She sees his eyes widen and realises he’s fully aware of what she’s planning to do and also that she relies way too much on the surprise factor in her engagements. Well, Sakura tells herself, an exuberant grin already blooming on her lips, it’s now or never. There’s no need to open the gates; the power she craves is already waiting for her, sitting at the bottom of her belly, and all she has to do is grab it with both of her hands and pull-

And her world is engulfed in flames.

Later, much later, someone will explain to her that sometimes, proximity factors into just how wide the soul is able to open the gates separating its two halves and how drastic a difference in how much strength is being borrowed this can make – but that, like so many other things, is later. Now, Sakura is woefully unprepared for the consequences of her actions – and also the sheer mass of searing lava surging through her body, a vicious, roiling mass she has little to no control over which is fucking terrifying for about one and a half seconds. After that, it turns into the single most cathartic experience of her entire life.

She can’t help it; the laughter is like second nature to her, and it comes so easily she couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to. It turns her into a mere vessel, a conduit for sheer primordial force, her own power intermingling with hers, creating an uncontrollable vortex of destruction. She feels larger, fuller, greater, and for a fraction of a second, she can see through two pairs of eyes, breathe with two lungs, hear herself think twice; and knows he favours his left side and will never unleash the full potential of his weapon in a friendly spar. He will go easy on her because he proved himself long ago, and their fight is meant to test her, not him.

For a few blessed minutes, Sakura feels like a god. She eats up the chakra racing through her system, greedily demanding more and more whenever the well runs dry. She’s wasteful, toying with resources that don’t belong to her, taking every little scrap of power she can get her hands on, and sending it straight towards her enemy. Her attacks lack direction, if not conviction – she has too much, is too much, drunk on this excess energy, yet still dances on the edge, keeping herself in check just so. They don’t want to kill him, after all. They’re just having fun.

(A brave man in the audience says this: “Sea preserve us all, she’s just like you.” He is then promptly smacked upside the head, bares his teeth, and growls. “Bitch.”)

Eventually, the bursts of chakra flooding her system become smaller and weaker. She’s not ready to let go yet, scrambling for whatever crumbs she can find, but soon even the tiniest of remnants fizzle out into nothingness before she can claim them. The gates are closed, all of her power running through her fingers like sand. Little by little, she comes down from her high, finding back to herself and where, who, she is. One lung. One heart. One body, one mind. One blade resting against the skin of her neck, held by a hand attached to an arm belonging to a young man whose clothes are slightly singed and covered in soot but is perfectly unharmed otherwise. He smiles at her – a small, apologetic thing – and says: “Well fought.”

Well, shit.

Sakura blinks, becoming aware of the terrible ache in her fingers and the soreness of her throat. She coughs once, twice, and tries not to let her hurt pride show, reminding herself that she’s no prodigy, never has been, having borrowed all her blessings from someone else. Which is a positively depressing thought, honestly, so she does her best to swallow her disappointment. Plus, it’d be comical if she’d managed to pull a fast one on one of Kiri’s best and brightest – which would have been funny, yes, but also terribly undiplomatic.

“You’re a real piece of work,” she mutters as they make their way towards their rapidly shrinking audience, walking past craters, obsidian spikes, and scorched earth. She notices Chojuro flinch beside her and bumps her elbow against his arm, adding: “That was a compliment.” It makes him smile, small and timid, and Sakura finds herself overcome by a tender fondness for the young man beside her, deciding then and there she’ll continue to be his friend long after she returns to Konoha.

(They’re both loyal like that.)

Once reunited with their respective Kage, Sakura pays no mind to the stink eye the Godaime sends her way, catching herself thinking that the woman has no business being mad at her when she tried her best not to embarrass herself even though she lost. It rankles still, and it must show on her face, for the Mizukage reaches out to pat her head like a dog – Sakura stubbornly refuses to react to the electric jolt coursing through her body upon being touched – and tells her not to take her loss personally. Chojuro had a lot of practice dealing with this particular kekkei genkai.

It makes her want to ask the question that’s been burning on the tip of her tongue ever since she stepped off the boat and she’s just about to open her mouth when the Godaime speaks up, interrupting her before she even had the chance to talk. Sakura squints at her, annoyed but patiently biding her time until she realises that the Hokage is hogging the woman’s attention on purpose. The baleful glare she sends her way does little to deter her, not that Sakura expected it to. She could understand the Hokage not wanting a simple chuunin bothering a foreign Kage, maybe, if the circumstances were different, but they’re not.

Fine. Whatever. Sakura exhales noisily before grabbing Chojuro by the sleeve of his tunic, dragging him away from the women and towards the food markets. The gaping hole that is her stomach needs filling because Ino-chan once said Sakura gets bitchy when she’s hungry, and, well, it’s not like she’s wrong. She really can’t afford to be shipped home early, not before she gets exactly what she came here for. As they leave, she feels an eerie tingle creep up her spine, and though she looks back and finds the Mizukage’s eyes firmly fixated on the Godaime’s face, she’s convinced they were following her just moments prior.

What an odd woman.

“Hey Chojuro,” Sakura murmurs in between bites, weaving through the bustling crowd with her new friend by her side, munching on the best fried fish she’s ever had in her entire life, “your Kage called me saltkin.” She thought about that a few times but hadn’t had the opportunity to ask anyone about it so far. It sounded significant, the way she whispered it, as though it mattered. Chojuro nods sagely, swallowing before speaking, as he guides her back towards her accommodations.

“It’s what you are,” he explains, “as a soulmate from another country. Not born from the sea, but kin to one of her children, nevertheless. It’s a common expression for people like you.” Makes sense, Sakura figures, and hums in acknowledgment. It’s a nice term. Saltkin. Fitting, too. She really does love the ocean. She turns her head to the side, squinting her eyes at Chojuro who doesn’t seem to notice. He’d know, wouldn’t he? Being so close to the Mizukage and all. Surely.

“Who’s my soulmate?” He flinches, and his eyes widen, and she knows she’s got him. Sakura may not be as talented as Ino when it comes to sniffing out lies and secrets, but she picked up a thing or two over the years. Chojuro blushes, then begins to stutter, very deliberately avoiding her gaze. When he finally replies, the words come out as a squeak more than anything else:

“I- I have no idea. I’m s- sorry.” Sure he is, Sakura thinks darkly, frowning at him until he feels the need to turn away. They’re all lying to her. This whole thing is like a ridiculous, giant conspiracy everyone is in on except for Sakura, who’s not allowed, for a reason known to everyone but her. She ignores the need to grab him by the collar and shake him until he spills out the truth, reminding herself that she’s here to make friends, no matter how hard they insist on making it for her. They won’t be able to run circles around her forever. Before she leaves, Sakura vows, someone will give her what she wants, and if it’s the last bloody thing they’ll ever do.

She’s tempted to resort to more drastic measures only a single day later. Sakura usually doesn’t make a habit out of committing someone she met years ago, and exchanged little to no words with, to memory, but some people are a little harder to forget than others; she vividly recalls Momochi Zabuza, who once tried his best to kill her erstwhile teacher, and who’d laughed at the colour of her hair. Back then, she didn’t think she’d ever meet him again. Except here he is, lugging around that massively oversized sword of his, face still mostly clad in bandages. He hasn’t changed one bit, and while it’s not entirely unexpected for Sakura to remember him, she honestly didn’t think someone like him would care to remember someone like her.

“Pinky,” he exclaims with a scoff upon laying eyes on her, the sharp corners of his mouth already quirking upwards, twitching in amusement. Sakura narrows her eyes at him, silently daring him to take another dig at her pink hair, nowadays much better equipped to handle him in a fight than she was five years ago. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, grinning like a child lost in a candy shop, and she can see it coming, she genuinely can, and is not at all surprised when he throws his head back, roaring with laughter.

“What the hell is your problem, huh?” So maybe she woke up on the wrong side of her futon today, but honestly, who does that man think he is? Not that Sakura’s attempt at confronting a problem she might actually be able to solve – and wouldn’t that just make for a nice change of pace – fazes him. No, Momochi remains perfectly unbothered, too busy laughing his ass off like the absolute clown show he is. Pinky? Really?

“Problem? I got none, kiddo,” he growls once he’s done laughing, which is when Sakura realises that he’s a) perpetually grumpy always, and b) that’s just how his voice sounds and probably always has. By now, she’s reasonably certain he doesn’t hold a grudge over what happened back then, and also won’t feel the need to try to ruin this whole diplomatic charade by beheading her. And maybe, just maybe, he got a very similar speech from his own kage concerning propriety and appropriate behaviour when dealing with people one attempts to turn into allies. Sakura squints at him, figuring he probably needed it a lot more than she ever did.

“That’s nice,” she says with the sort of smile she learned from Sai, “you can stop laughing every time you see me then.” So she’s being a little passive-aggressive, but he looks like he can take it. They’re standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by people, so he probably won’t make a scene, and if he does, well, then that’s on him. The man’s grin disappears between one moment and the next as he glowers at her. Sakura refuses to cower before him, entirely too unafraid and entirely too annoyed at her unfortunate situation to care much about his opinion of her.

“Mouthy too, eh? Figures. Both of you are fucking brats.” Sakura’s lips press into a thin line, her hackles thoroughly raised. She recognises a taunt when she sees it, coming to the conclusion that Momochi Zabuza is probably the biggest fucking asshole she’s ever met, and she’s just about to open her mouth and give him a piece of her mind when-

“There you are.” Sakura doesn’t jump at the sudden touch on her shoulder, though it’s a near thing. So near, she’s convinced the woman the hand belongs to must’ve noticed, if the nails lightly digging into the bare skin of her left shoulder are any indication. Sakura’s head whips to the side and is met by thick, auburn strands of hair wafting in the gentle breeze, hiding the woman’s face from view. It tingles, the spot where she touches her, and Sakura can’t quite tell if the feeling is a pleasant one or not, but at least it distracts her enough to the point where she finds it hard to hold on to her anger.

“Pay him no mind, petal,” the Mizukage hums as she steers Sakura away from Momochi, the heat radiating from the woman’s skin making her sweat underneath her clothes. The woman’s tone is light and airy, seemingly unconcerned with Momochi’s behaviour and yet there’s something else brimming underneath that’s entirely at odds with the levity swinging in her voice. Her touch intensifies ever so slightly as she guides Sakura back towards the markets, on the way quietly muttering under her breath, forcing Sakura to strain her ears to hear:

“Zabuza clearly doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

(Honestly. What a strange, strange woman.)

It occurs to her then, later that evening, just how much she actually sees of the Mizukage. It makes sense, Sakura supposes, considering she involuntarily spends most of her time around the Hokage, and common courtesy requires their host to foster inter-village relations. But, and maybe she’s just imagining things, it really seems as though the Mizukage takes plenty of interest in the Konoha delegation and very little in any of her other guests. The woman hovers. A lot. Aggressively so.

It’s weird. It genuinely, honestly is. Now that she’s had her initial epiphany, it’s impossible to not notice just how often Sakura comes across her, even when she’s not forced to stay near the Godaime. She doesn’t think she’s being paranoid, not yet, she’s got about ten years of service ahead of her before she ends up in that particular barrel of rats, so there’s no way she’s simply imagining the woman almost... following her around. Except that’s absurd. She has no reason to. Right?

Surely.

The next few days pass painfully slowly. There’s not much to do for Sakura who’s still being kept on an incredibly tight leash by the Godaime. The phrase ‘trusting someone as far as one can throw them’ comes to mind, except Sakura is fully aware the Godaime could launch her all the way to Wind Country, if she so wished. Point is, Sakura just about reached the end of her rope. She does her best to keep busy by assisting the chuunin candidates with their training and spending as much time with Chojuro as possible but still, every single second that passes feels as though she’s presently missing out on the single most important moment of her entire life.

Soon enough, the sun dawns on the final day of their stay in Kirigakure to both the endless frustration of Sakura and the palpable relief of everyone around her. She’d feel a hell of a lot more guilty about being a fucking problem if any of the people she’d come to Kiri with had been even slightly helpful. Instead, the Godaime had done her best to ensure Sakura dies miserably and alone with only cats and a plant or two to keep her company.

So yes, she’s in a proper foul mood during the big farewell dinner affair, where everyone eats and drinks, and parties like there’s no tomorrow. Well, everyone except Sakura, who sits by herself at a table somewhere in the back where it’s quiet and sad. This was supposed to be it, she thinks glumly as she listlessly pokes the smoked salmon in front of her. Her big break, her once-in-a-lifetime-no-second-chances opportunity. She thought she’d get here, spend a day or two searching for her soulmate, run into her at a market stall or something, and... be blown away, she supposes. Like Ino was. Ino, who’d crashed into Sai and got splattered by his ink, ready to tear him a new one, only to look into his eyes and...

Well. Fall in love.

Instead, she’ll leave the way she came; empty-handed, without a name or a face, except for the knowledge that whoever bears her mark on their skin apparently never wanted to meet her in the first place. And doesn’t that just fucking suck.

So lost in her gloom, Sakura fails to notice the voice calling her name. Once, twice, then it turns into a yell, and Sakura becomes aware of the Godaime attempting to get her attention from across the room. She squints her eyes at her, sorely tempted to just flip her off. Sure, she’d probably die, but God knows she’s been itching to do that ever since they set foot on this stupid island. She wonders if she could get away with just ignoring her. Pretending she doesn’t exist. Have a little bit of peace before she’s thrown back into the grinder that is her life. But no.

Alas, poor Sakura drags herself off her seat and towards the head table. The Godaime slouches in her chair, cheeks already flushed, nursing her nth cup of sake, gaze somewhat unfocused but still alert enough to track Sakura’s every movement, just in case. Beside her, the Mizukage sits with one leg crossed over the other, seemingly lost in thought, the tips of her fingers ghosting against the rim of her glass. As Sakura approaches, the woman lifts her head ever so slightly, watching her through hooded eyes.

“Can’t imagine why you’d want to talk to her,” the Hokage grumbles, slurring her words. “Kid’s the biggest thorn in my side, all she does is piss me off.” Sakura only barely manages to suppress the urge to tell her boss exactly what she thinks of her, settling for the meanest stink-eye she’s capable of. Unperturbed by the mutual animosity, the Mizukage smiles, sending a shiver down Sakura’s spine. She’s had her difficulties making up her mind about that woman until now – she’d been a little preoccupied and simply too busy to waste more than a few stray thoughts on a person she’ll never see again – but at the end of the day, Sakura likes her people straight-forward. The Mizukage is anything but.

“She’s pretty,” the woman hums, tilting her head whilst never averting her eyes from Sakura, who... is she flirting with her? Now? Seriously?

“Not worth the headache, Terumi. Not worth it.” With those final, disparaging words, the Hokage gets to her feet with a groan, muttering something about leaving them to it before wandering off in search of more sake. Sakura, meanwhile, is sorely tempted to follow her. She’s so not in the mood for... whatever this is.

“Sit,” the Mizukage says, patting the now empty chair beside her. Sakura hesitates. Most of her just wants to go back to her room and lick her wounds before waking up in the morning and facing the reality of having squandered her good fortune. She’s not interested in company or conversation, least of all with a woman who’s been making her head spin ever since the moment they met.

“I don’t bite.” What’s likely meant to be reassuring or encouraging comes across as anything but; Sakura knows a lie when hears one, and though the Mizukage doesn’t possess the same sharp-tipped teeth as other Kiri-nin, Sakura gets the impression she bites twice as hard anyway. Not that she’s afraid of her. Since the day she’s been born, she’s had a certain tendency to disregard other people’s ability to put her six feet under – it took a literal demon for Sakura to fear for her own life and while there’s most certainly something wrong with the woman in front of her, she’s not a demon.

Probably.

The Mizukage nudges the empty chair with her foot, angling it towards Sakura, clearly not taking her lack of action as the ‘No, I’d rather not’ it is.

“You have a question that needs answering, don’t you?” Sakura blinks. The woman’s smile widens. “We wouldn’t want you to leave before you find your shark.” She can’t be serious. Except she looks the part. A little amused, yes, a bit of an impish quality to the smile on her pink lips, but sober and sincere. Sakura’s a good judge of character. For all the games that woman surely enjoys playing, Sakura doesn’t believe she’d dangle that particular carrot over her head only to yank it away at the last possible second.

She sits down. Watches as the Mizukage fills a clean cup with the same amber liquid she’s got in front of her – umeshu judging by the smell – and tries not to fidget too much. Part of this feels too good to be true. She’d already given up.

The Mizukage pushes the second cup towards Sakura before picking up her own, taking a sip, moving a hand through her hair. It is somewhat distracting, the way the light bounces off those rich, auburn waves of hair, ever so slightly reminiscent of the fire both of them are capable of creating out of thin air. The surrounding air warms and begins to faintly smell of smoke and ash, and something else she can’t quite place-

Sakura catches herself, shakes her head and pretends not to notice the curious, oddly pleased look the Mizukage is giving her.

“You really do have such a pretty face.” She can’t fight the blush creeping up her neck and colouring her cheeks, which is just plain embarrassing. Sakura has never been overly susceptible to compliments or flattery, but that woman just... It’s so hard to think. She doesn’t know why her mind is starting to feel cluttered all of a sudden, every individual thought covered in sticky cobwebs. The noise around her dims, as do the lights dancing in her peripheral vision. It all just sort of... fades out. Like none of it matters.

“You’re a capricious little creature, aren’t you, saltkin?” Resting her chin on the palm of her hand, the Mizukage studies her patiently. She remains silent for a moment, then chuckles – a low, sensual noise that makes the hairs at the back of Sakura’s neck stand up – and murmurs quietly, as though speaking to herself: “Truly a woman after my own heart.”

She leans to the side, the hair covering the right side of her face shifts, revealing the faintest flash of pink-

And then the moment passes. The noise flitters in and out of Sakura’s awareness, her sight focuses, her breath evens. She didn’t even notice she’d been holding it.

“Cat got your tongue?” And maybe it’s the way that woman looks at her, or her posture, or the inviting tilt of her head, but Sakura suddenly realises that there’s something she wants from her, and Sakura has no idea what it is. She knows Sakura has a soulmate and that all her heavy-handed flirting won’t get her anywhere. So why does she bother? What’s the bloody point of it?

“You’re not really my type.” Her voice sounds rough and scratchy like she’s been swallowing smoke and she’s kind of lying if she’s being entirely honest with herself but that woman makes her uncomfortable and what Sakura needs right now is some sort of distance if only to stop feeling like she’s drunk or drugged or both. She’s not entirely sure what sort of reaction she expects from the Mizukage but a low, sensual chuckle paired with a look so intense it makes Sakura want to climb out of her own skin, ain’t it.

“Oh, my dear,” she drawls, the corners of her lips twisting into a downright predatory grin, “we both know that’s not true.” Alright, someone’s way too confident in themself. Of course she’s right, and Sakura likes it, but that’s rather beside the point.

“The gifts you received,” the woman changes the subject as though she’s not making Sakura’s heart beat a thousand times per minute, “did you like them?” Unbidden, her fingers reach for the pendant dangling from her neck, almost lovingly curling around the glass jellyfish. The Mizukage’s eyes follow the movement, her grin widening ever so slightly.

“I-” What is it about her that makes all of Sakura’s bravado just disappear into thin air? She’s stuttering. Sakura doesn’t stutter. “Yes.”

“Good.” She seems pleased and a little less like she just might eat Sakura right up, which is probably a good thing. The following lull in the conversation has Sakura shifting in her seat, suppressing the overwhelming urge to simply get up and walk away. For every little thing making her want to keep talking to the woman, get even closer, there is an equal amount of alarm bells going off inside her head telling her she’s wasting her time. The worst part, really, is that she doesn’t get her. Maybe she’s just bored? Then again, she’s very clearly enjoying Sakura’s predicament way too much, and messing with her is probably just how she gets her rocks off.

“Souls are funny little things.” Seemingly content to stop being a nuisance for the moment, the Mizukage withdraws, leaning back into her seat, returning to studying Sakura from afar. “Did you know? I have a soulmate of my own.” Sakura blinks, her mind suddenly wiped clean, all thought coming to a screeching halt. She’s staring, she knows, but what else is she supposed to do? The moment, no, the second Ino laid eyes on Sai everyone else stopped mattering. Her closest friend, who’d once turned her head for every single pretty boy passing her by, essentially turned blind as soon as she met her soulmate. Isn’t that how all this is supposed to work? Why would the Mizukage waste time and breath on chatting her up, even if just for laughs, when she’s supposed to care about one person and one person only?

“It’s quite rare for one half of a soul to be born this far away from the other.” The Mizukage smiles, crossing one leg over the other, reaching for a fresh cup of sake Sakura hadn’t noticed her pour. “And yet it happened to the both of us. That’s twice in one generation.” She says it like it means something, like there’s something she knows and Sakura doesn’t. “Why, such a thing is practically unheard of.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, the result of all the disgruntled drinking she’s been doing all night, or maybe it’s the sense of urgency that’s been hounding her ever since she left Konoha or maybe it’s that damn smirk on that woman’s lips that’s laden with meaning and hidden messaging and secrets or maybe it’s just Sakura who’s never had much patience for anything or anyone, but she’s over it. She’s over the secrets, over the teasing, over the feeling of being lost, and over the disappointment in both herself and her goddamned soulmate.

She’s had it. Had it.

“I get that it’s probably really entertaining to fuck with me,” Sakura nearly growls through grit teeth, hackles raised, fists clenched, ready to fight. “But if there’s something you know, I’d appreciate it if you stopped wasting my time and just told me.” She’s not sure what to make of the look the Mizukage is giving her – a mixture of mild amusement and resignation, as though her favourite pet had stopped dancing to her tune – or the hint of wistfulness and, dare she say it, longing shining in her eye. She sighs slowly and deeply and tilts her head to the side, causing some of the hair covering half her face to slide out of position, once more revealing the hint of pink Sakura thought she had merely imagined.

“This bloodline ability you’re borrowing,” the Mizukage says, all former traces of mischievousness gone, replaced by something she can’t put a finger on, “is one of a kind.” Sakura thinks about Kurotsuchi whose lava had felt nothing like Sakura’s but had been lava nonetheless and can’t help but frown. “There is only one family in all the Nations to carry it, and it’s not the Tsuchikage’s, no matter what you might believe.” Does the Mizukage really have any reason to lie about that? Sakura can’t claim the woman has been anything even remotely approaching helpful so far, but despite her being kind of an asshole, nothing about her screams ‘liar’.

“Lava Release, as you know it, is the property of one of Kirigakure’s founding clans. It was never stolen and has never intermingled with foreign blood. You have been the only outsider capable of using it in... well, forever.” Which goes a long way in explaining why Sakura felt like some sort of curio ever since she stepped off the boat, with eyes following her no matter where she went or what she did. The Mizukage takes another sip of her drink, taking the time to smooth a wrinkle in her dress, making Sakura wonder whether she’ll ever get to the fucking point.

“And as it so happens...” Here she gives Sakura that smirk again, the one filled with mysteries and riddles and half-truths and she knows, she just knows, she won’t be getting what she came here for in the first place, when the woman does the absolute last thing Sakura expected, and bestows upon her a measure of truth after all:

“Said clan’s name is Terumi, and I am its matriarch.”

(And even though she finally – finally – got one of the answers she has been so desperately searching for, Sakura can’t help but feel like there’s something off about the way she said it, about the way she looks at her – like for every one truth she’ll share, a thousand deceptions are sure to follow in its wake.)