Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being chased by a god is a lot like running underwater

She first arrived in his brother’s arms, barely clinging on to her life. Her face was peaceful, but her body told differently. Bruises, black and blue, littered across her exposed skin. Broken bones, obvious with how her arm dangled from her sleeping form in an awkward and probably painful angle.

“Tobirama,” His brother pleaded and like all other times Tobirama found it hard to deny his jovial brother anything, more so when he looked uncharacteristically solemn. Just like how Hashirama told him of his dreams, of this village in the making , and asking for his brother to be by his side.

Tobirama could only step aside. He could never deny his older brother anything.

The woman was likely to die anyhow, judging by the blood dripping from his brother’s arms. He should’ve known when his brother’s voice was border-lining hysteria. He should’ve known the whereabouts of his brother’s scarily frequent disappearance to god knows where, Tobirama should’ve known that this woman would be their catalyst.

“It's phenomenal,” Their clan medics exclaimed, an unusual glint in their old eyes. “Her body had shined like the stars! Then- then black branches stretched out on her skin, all from the seal on her forehead. Her body was covered in them. The branches looked almost alive,”

It all screamed dangerous to Tobirama. Fascinating. 

He needs to investigate her- to get this unknown intruder out of their village, their home. He wants to study her- her seals. How could she heal so fast? She’s not his brother.

Where the hell did Hashirama pick up this stray? She better not be a security hazard. 

Figures he found his loudmouth brother by the woman’s side,  and not in his office. He was talking animatedly about random topics Tobirama deemed unimportant with the sleeping, bandaged woman. Not for the first time, Tobirama questioned his brother’s sanity, or lack thereof.

“Tobi! Ahaha… what are you doing here?” 

“Aniki,” Then a pointed stare at the healed woman, who just arrived two days ago, looking as if she didn’t go through a hell of a battlefield. “Explain.”

Hashirama wasn’t that much of an idiot as he seemed, because his brown eyes lighted up with understanding. Or maybe it's because they were brothers and had known each other for so long that no extra words were needed between them.

“It's amazing, Tobi, she’s amazing. I came as soon as I heard,” Tobirama raised an eyebrow at his brother’s enthusiasm which seemed more than usual. Obviously, his brother has been shirking his Hokage responsibilities again. He’d have to rectify that.

“I’ve been studying the seal, and it felt like a well, you know? It felt vast, like the ocean we visited once but looks like it's empty or half empty right now. I’m not really sure of its depth and it was difficult to venture it with my chakra, it's barring me from digging deeper. From the feel of it, I think it stores Yin chakra? I’m not completely sure, but that would be incredible, and her chakra control is unbelievable! I knew she had good control but I never thought it was to this extent. No wonder she acted like she wasn’t afraid of anything, it would be-”

“Hashirama, stop babbling. It’s unbecoming of the Hokage.”

“ But Tobi, I’m not in office right now-”

“Well you should be,” Tobirama rolled his eyes at the puppy eyes directed his way, he never fell for that. Not anymore at least.

“Let’s go to your office. We need to talk.” About the girl went unsaid but Tobirama knew that Hashirama knew. They should’ve had this talk the moment Hashirama brought the girl, but his brother kept delaying it for some bloody reason.

“Alright, alright, let me just,” Tobirama clenched his hands to not let the disbelief show on his face as Hashirama all but fretted beside the pink haired woman’s slumbering form. Like some mother hen. His brunet brother fluffed the pillows, as if it would change anything, and made sure to pull the blankets up to the woman’s chin to protect her from the chilly weather of the upcoming winter.

Kami, he never saw his brother act like, act like some lovesick fool . Which was worrying with how the Uzumaki matriarch obviously held a torch for his brother and Tobirama wondered what the fuck was he going to do when that exploded in his face.

When it looked like his brother didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon, Tobirama finally let out the sigh that he’s been holding ever since he realized that he had to be the older brother, because this was just ridiculous . Tobirama never thought his brother would become more foolish than he already was.

“ Hashirama .”

His brother groaned, sparing one final look at the sleeping woman before grunting out. “ Fine. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Her name is Sakura,” His brother told him yesterday, in the privacy of his office. No last name, no clan backing up her knowledge in seals, and apparently her prowess in healing. “She’s a traveling healer, which is amazing, you know? She visited our borders nine months ago. I stumbled on her when she was gathering herbs, you should’ve seen her. She almost decked me when I called her out, civilian get-up and all.”

And the thought of that, of his idiot brother doing recon alone outside Konoha walls was irritating to learn because his brother had little to no preservation instincts despite being hailed as the God of shinobi. What if she was a spy? An assassin sent by Kumo? Her story was too unlikely, too suspicious, too good to be true and his brother wasn’t a complete idiot, he should know this.

But when his brother looked at him, with the same eyes when he told him about that Uchiha Madara and asked him to be friendly because this person was a friend and Tobirama raged at the brunet until he couldn’t anymore and here they were: building a village.

Tobirama felt his skin crawl because the Uchiha will never be his colleagues, much less friends , even if they were currently united under one banner as Konohagakure shinobi. Too many people lost, too much blood spilled. He still felt the loss of his little brothers and Tobirama could not find it in him to forgive like Hashirama had.

“Tobirama, she’s a friend. I admit, I’ve been reckless for going out of the village whenever I hear of her possible presence– but nothing ever happened. We talked, we shared stories. Stories that won’t harm Konoha. She taught me about foreign herbs, Tobirama. Be nice to her, otouto.”

He most certainly did not like the threatening look that flickered on his brother’s face near the end of their talk. 

Little did he know that his older brother had been pestering the woman to visit the village before, to settle in the village. All offers were refused, and only now did Hashirama successfully had the woman behind village walls, behind his village walls.

When the woman woke up, it wasn’t Hashirama who greeted her. It was himself. When Tobirama was notified that the woman was to wake up at any moment, he made sure to busy his brother with meetings and paperwork that he had been shirking recently. Distracting Hashirama to give himself enough time to interrogate their little guest .

“Uhm, hello?” The woman looked nothing like the healer his brother told him she’d be, nothing like the kunoichi he perceived her to be with her seal and posture. He wanted to hand the woman over to the Yamanaka but Hashirama might blow a fuse if he did that behind his brother’s back. 

Tobirama stared back blankly at her confused gaze, her eyes were like those of the Nara’s deers for Kami’s sake.

“Hello.” Still, safety hazard or no, his mother raised him to be a gentleman. So unless he has enough evidence, unless this woman proved his theories of her being the enemy, he’d play nice. That, and Hashirama might sense the pink haired woman to be awake anytime now. Knowing his brother, he’d come barreling through the entrance anytime soon, so he should finish this quickly.

It’s been two weeks since the woman arrived, and everyday somehow one way or another Hashirama managed to slip from his grasp and kept hanging around the sleeping woman. Sometimes, Tobirama would sense his clumsy brother escape in the night, leaving their compound and going to this pink woman’s side.

It was inappropriate in more ways than one, and why couldn’t his brother see that? Or maybe Hashirama did but being the dense, thick skinned person he is he just didn’t care.

“Where am I?” The confusion and anxiety in her eyes didn’t seem fake at least. Forest eyes. Either that or she was a great actor. An actor Tobirama would applaud for her skills before slicing her throat with a kunai.

“Konohagakure.”

“Oh.”

And for the life of him, Tobirama couldn’t understand why her eyes dimmed at the answer but now at least he knew that he wasn’t alone in  not wanting her to be here.

“I have to go,” ‘Please,’ Tobirama thought. Hashirama was thinning his patience. His brother was adamant in spending time with this pink haired problem, even if he had his kage duties to attend to and the summit is just around the corner . 

The summit that will decide the fate of the continent and here Hashirama, their esteemed Shodaime Hokage , was always buzzing near the flower girl like some fucking bee .

“But Sakura-chan, you can stay a little longer and rest more!”

“Hashirama, I’m already behind my schedule as it is-”

“It's winter, Sakura-chan. It’s dangerous to travel right now, why don’t you wait for spring? Or at least, when it stops snowing. I’m sure your patients can understand,” And that did make a valid point, much to Tobirama’s chagrin. Valid enough to silence the fiery woman and let the gears in her mind work. Winter just settled as soon as the woman woke up. Like a spell, snowfall occurred the same day after Tobirama grilled the woman for answers. Though, the ‘interrogation’ ended with him having more questions than answers.

As much as he loathed her presence here, because she made his brother more of an idiot than usual, Tobirama wouldn’t let an innocent woman freeze in the harsh cold.

Innocent woman, that is, and this Sakura has yet to prove otherwise so Tobirama has been lenient. He never allowed her to leave the Senju compound though, too much of a hazard for this budding village, and much to his surprise, Hashirama didn’t want her outside either.

“… Fine, but can I at least not stay cooped here? I want to help with anything, just so I won’t go crazy from doing nothing.”

“But Sak-” Hashirama began, no doubt thinking this pink haired intruder was a guest in their clan which she wasn’t . Tobirama has had enough of this coddling.

“Agreed, Sakura-san. Starting tomorrow, Kiyoko will give you your duties around the compound.”

Tobirama pretended not to feel warm at the grateful smile directed his way, it’s been a while since someone was thankful for what he does. Most people were scared of his demeanor, that and most people only saw his shining beacon of a brother to notice the washout spare.

Tobirama also pretended not to notice the disapproving sound that erupted from his brother’s chest. Honestly, Hashirama was such a child. He couldn’t pamper the girl forever. Tobirama learned from her short conscious stay in their compound that she was a spitfire, though she was polite but not polite enough for politics. She seemed too kind for that, and it startled Tobirama that he was thinking of a woman he barely knew as kind .

‘Dangerous,’ Tobirama thought to himself, as Hashirama once again took over the conversation with the woman.

‘ Bleeding heart,’ His mind whispered to him before he could even form a coherent thought. It was wee hours in the morning, and it was damn cold with the ongoing winter. He did not like the cold, no matter what anyone thought about him being a water-type, he did not like it at all. Why else would he always don on his fur collar even in the midst of combat? Because it was freezing.

He was meditating in the comforts of his room, with the hearth blazing quietly to keep him warm when he felt the movement of their safety hazard moving up and about in the back garden– which she wasn’t allowed to visit. Because it leads to the forest where there was a back gate but Tobirama liked to think she didn’t know that, but he didn’t want to risk it either way.

So, quite grumpily his brother would say, Tobirama donned his winter jacket with his ever-present white fur placed on his shoulders and went to reprimand the woman or maybe catch her in the act of being an enemy and annoy Hashirama with an ‘I told you so’ for a month.

The sight he was greeted with when he arrived at the edge of the garden, hidden in the shadows of his home, made him feel weird and Tobirama didn’t appreciate it at all. The woman was still in her sleeping wear, and it was snowing for heaven’s sake. This idiot would end up sick and add to Hashirama’s worries which would add to his worries and Tobirama did not want that.

At first, Tobirama didn’t even know what the woman was doing, crouching in front of a pile of snow, when the snow moved and belatedly he realized it was an animal. A dying animal with how little chakra it had, no wonder Tobirama subconsciously dismissed it. It wasn’t a threat.

“Shh, shh, it’ll be okay.” And now here he was, still in hiding, watching the woman’s hand glow green and it rattled Tobirama how much of a healer this Sakura was. And she was stuck with dish duty and laundry.

‘Still,’ Tobirama thought as he eyed the unmoving white-furred creature, ‘once too late, no healer can do anything now.’

It was cold, they were still outside in the snow and no doubt the animal was already a victim of hypothermia.

Yet he was wrong again , when the creature opened its beady eyes that were a startling shade auburn red. 

It somewhat irks him that his instincts keep being proven wrong because of an enigma like her.

The snow around the woman and that canine melted away. It was as if they were untouched by the winter that plagued the world around them. Tobirama never appreciated the greenness of the grass until now, when it was stark against the snow-covered land.

An ethereal image indeed, with her white yukata and bright coloring. Like some spring nymph trapped in winter. Hashirama would love it, and Tobirama never thought he would be thankful that his brother wasn’t an early bird. He was sick of hearing how beautiful and amazing Sakura -chan was. This sight would surely make such comments more frequent, which was not needed with how obvious they were.

“Hey there, friend,” Tobirama couldn’t deny the small amusement he felt as the woman cooed at the creature, like some baby, while said creature snarled back. The woman laughed at its attempt to look threatening and offered her hand. The fox’s growling paused and hesitantly sniffed the appendage. He was about to leave when the woman’s last comment irked him.

“You remind me of Tobirama-sama,”

He narrowed his eyes at that, he wasn’t some helpless animal. This girl was getting cheeky.

Still, as the fox happily yipped back at the woman, Tobirama retreated back to his quarters. It wasn’t his problem if the woman got sick. She seemed fine outside, as if in her element. Besides, his brother would have a field day at the opportunity to pamper and nurse the woman.

Tobirama was right. He should have never allowed this, what the hell was he thinking?

He barely withheld the scathing ‘I told you so,’ that he so wanted to point out to his abjectly laughing brother. This damn festival was a mistake, the alcohol was a mistake.

Enemy shinobi could come barging in their gates right now but here they were, shinobi of various calibers drunk off their asses.

Kami, he expected those damn Uchiha bastards to be at least smart and sane but it turned out no and they had little tolerance to alcoholic beverages. What with how many drunk and flushed red Uchiha he had already passed by. Whose idea was it to spike the drinks anyway? He doubted the Akimichi would do such a thing, though they were in charge of the food and drinks….

“Hashirama,” He growled but even the surprised yelp from his brother did not ease his mood.

Their one and only Shodaime turned to him with his oafish grin and Tobirama hoped his scowl was evident as always on his face because what . Was that Sakura ? Drinking sake? In a drinking contest?

“Ah! Tobi, ahaha, nice to see you- er, here?….” Ignoring his brother, Tobirama moved pass him.

True to his thoughts, Tobirama was greeted with the sight of their pink-haired safety hazard drinking away as Hashirama stepped to the side. There was quite a crowd surrounding the table and no wonder Tobirama passed by a few people on the streets, drunk and unconscious on the ground, as he was on his way here. This was where those drunkards originated and Tobirama figured his brother had to have his sticky hands in this.

“Aniki, what were you thinking ?”

“Woah, okay wait a moment. First of all it wasn’t my idea, okay? Well, okay maybe it was a little bit of my idea but it wasn’t entirely-”

“Hashirama! I won again!” Tobirama felt his eyebrow twitch at the squealing voice that interrupted their conversation. ‘That pink-haired hellion.’

Tobirama closed his eyes in frustration when he saw Sakura drink an Uchiha under the table with little effort. The raven-haired man was burning red, nearly like the kekkai genkai they boast about and fell face first asleep on the table in front of the woman.

“You’re doing great, Sakura-chan!”

“Enough,” Tobirama had to put an end to this, no matter what their damn Hokage said there were enemies everywhere and drunk shinobi don’t have good aim. In fact, from Tobirama’s experience at handling things like this, drunk shinobi don’t have any aim. “It is late, the official festivities are over. Everyone , go home.”

Which was true, the games and booths have long closed and the ending speech was said and done. He knew it was too good to be true for it to be peaceful like that, what with his brother in charge of it. The people in the room were, much to his annoyance, sluggish to move if they were moving at all. 

'Are these idiots even awake?'  He grumbled in the privacy of his own mind. 

“Finally, a Senju with a decent brain, I’ve been telling that idiot to call this off for hours.” As if the night couldn’t get any worse, Uchiha Madara had to show up among the surrounding crowd. Tobirama was tempted between groaning in frustration or growling with hostility but instead, he did neither and just stared blankly at the equally stoic man.

“Madara,” Tobirama spat but with no real venom, no, because it was a special night and everyone was apparently friends here. “Get your clansmen out of the streets,” 'lest hypothermia gets to them first.' went unsaid but the white-haired man was sure, with how the Uchiha glanced at the snow outside, that his message was understood. Madara hummed before replying, as if not worried that some of his clansmen were snoozing on the pile of snow in the streets near the bar.

“Ah, Izuna will take care of that.” And that’s one old thing he still couldn’t figure out, how the hell did Uchiha Izuna survive their battle? Tobirama was sure he dealt a killing blow and the Uchiha weren’t exactly known for their healing abilities.

‘Whatever,’ Tobirama decided, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Not bothering to reply at the bastard, because he’s exhausted damn it this night was supposed to be relaxing, Tobirama surveyed the damage around the bar. Madara disappeared from his sight, hopefully he was getting his strewn about clansmen back into their compound.

Shinobi of various clans littered the establishment. Tobirama realized with increasing aggravation some, if not half, were of his clan both civilian and shinobi alike. And smack dab in the middle of that mess was a bubbly pink-haired woman who was drunker than she let on, smiling like an airhead, with his smiling brother, who was a genuine airhead.

Nearing the table where Sakura sat, Tobirama counted around twenty-four people. Most of them looked like they could get home by themselves once dunked with cold water. Green eyes turned to him and Tobirama could admit to himself that the smile was blinding, and it made something beneath his ribs lurch. Maybe he was getting tipsy, which was preposterous because he only had a few cups.

“Tobi! You came- hic- Hashirama and- hic- thought you’d never- hic- come!”

And so, just to spite his brother, Tobirama let the healer woman stand up unsteadily and fall against him. Predictably, his brother immediately protested but the woman just swatted his hands away with a laugh. She was worryingly light and weighed close to nothing but when she started giggling Tobirama became aware of how she clung to him and babbled to him about winter foxes.

“Sakura-san, it’s time to go home.”

“Aw, already?” Tobirama wasn’t helpless against her puppy eyes, he had two younger brothers before and currently one baby older brother.

“Yes. Aniki has to clean up here,” He ignored the indignant spluttering of his brother and steadied the woman on her feet. Or at least, he tried too. She was swaying dangerously left then right. “I will escort you instead. May I?”

The woman blinked at him slowly, the smile no longer on her face, and was obviously teetering on the line of staying awake and falling on her ass to sleep. Kami, no woman should ever get drunk like this. They were dangerous to men and themselves.

And just like he guessed, Sakura closed her eyes but before she could fall Tobirama already had her in his arms. Turning to his sobering brother, Tobirama glared at Hashirama. His brother had no right to frown at him like that.

“Tobirama, I should–”

“ You should wake these idiots and fix this mess,”

“It’s not entirely my fault, hey -” Tobirama avoided the arms of his brother, who was reaching for the woman in his arms. Hashirama could frown all he wanted, but Tobirama wasn’t leaving the drunk woman Hashirama had a crush on to the man himself. Not that he doesn’t trust his brother but Hashirama had this habit to do stupid things and Tobirama wasn’t willing to try his chances.

“Be sure to clean up. Goodnight, Aniki. ”

Now that he was facing the aftermath, Tobirama wondered if the entire drunk escapade last night was deliberately planned to end like this. He wondered if the incident last night was actually a way, a subtle way, to show that maybe– maybe the Uchiha weren’t all uptight peacocks.

He was doing his usual routine, after a brief morning training, he was walking around the village to observe the streets. Hopefully, brawls and small fights weren’t present anymore. The first few weeks of building the village showed that clansmen of various statures can act like spoiled children. 

Some had no brains and just duke it out in the streets, to relieve their frustrations but it was detrimental to the infrastructure and the civilians present around the scene. Recently though, the different clans are begrudgingly tolerating each other. Specifically, his clan and that bastard’s clan.

In short, Tobirama just wanted to make sure none of his clansmen made an idiot of themselves.

However, now it seemed that wouldn't be necessary because, dare he say it, his clansmen had become… friendly with the Uchiha. As friendly as one could be with their longtime enemy, he supposed. He was not blind, and his eyes saw signs. His people were conversing with some of them, though they were civilians. Tobirama noticed a few mixed groups of shinobi heading to the training fields. Uchiha and Senju? Training together? Voluntarily ? Now that was something he never expected in his lifetime, if not ever.

“Ha! You were right, Uchiha-san, you-”

“I know I was right-”

“Pompous ass, it was just one time–”

Tobirama muted out the conversation he was eavesdropping on and went his way. His people seemed happy, happier than before, to get along with a few of their old enemy. In fact, from what he’d seen, the village seemed livelier. The line between enemy and friend seemed to have blurred last night. Tobirama wondered if this was his brother’s plan or… ‘That minx had something to do with this.’

His brother’s way of invoking friendship was more forward than this.

But, as he passed by a gaggle of laughing children from clans that used to war against each other, Tobirama didn’t have it in him to criticize his clansmen. He hoped that this was peace, true peace, and not some faux pleasantry that was abundant when the village was first built.

Walking back to the public training grounds, Tobirama saw two of his clansmen leaving with two Uchiha at their side. They were messy with dirt, no doubt from doton techniques, and singed around the edges, which was inevitable what with their opponents being Uchiha.

He never saw an Uchiha bastard grin before and until now he never saw one, but as he observed the lighthearted talk of the group and the black eyes of the Uchiha light up Tobirama thought that it was close enough.

Maybe, not all of them were bastards. Maybe it wasn’t a bastard clan.

Still, that Madara was a pain in the ass and a bastard through and through. Uchiha or no, Tobirama will never like that asshole.

“Ugh, Madara, you asshole, ” Tobirama paused from his work at the familiar feminine voice. She conveyed his thoughts accurately, and now he was curious as to what warranted such aggression from the normally polite woman. He knew Madara would be visiting the compound to hang out with his brother but he never thought they would pull Sakura into their disastrous mix. “You tricked me!”

Hm, sounds like that asshole alright.

“Now, now, pinky. It was just a prank-” Tobirama never thought he would put ‘Uchiha’ and ‘pranks’ in one thought in a way that it was an Uchiha pulling out the prank.

“ Still , Madara, look at him! What did you do ?” Their voices turned into harsh whispers but Tobirama can clearly hear every word. He was just in the adjacent room, after all.

“What did I do? It was you who gave him-” That would mean since he was in his room, the only adjacent room there would be– oh. 

‘Kami give me strength.’ Tobirama better not be pushed to clean his brother’s mess. Hashirama better not be the person Sakura was talking about.

“You deceiving prick, you know what I meant! What did you put in there ?”

“ Nothing , at least nothing dangerous. He’s just asleep, god knows he needs it.”

“It better not be dangerous, Tobirama-sama would have my hide if he finds out!” Now Tobirama had a sketchy idea of what was happening, that Uchiha must’ve drugged his brother again. It wouldn’t be the first time and it probably wasn’t the last. 

At first, Tobirama was furious to find out his brother let his guard down and got drugged but he tolerated it when he realized that the Uchiha does it to get his brother to sleep and rest.

Tobirama faced similar problems when he was handling his brother’s apparent insomnia. The constant moving of a familiarly bright chakra in the dead of the night was not healthy for Tobirama’s sleeping routine.

“I doubt it. That ice block is many things, bastard included, but harming a woman is beneath him. Most Senju are gentlemen, as far as I’ve known.” The brush snapped in his hand, that Uchiha must be drunk to spout such nonsense. Like with many things, Madara was wrong.

Tobirama was prepared to hurt a woman if they were an enemy, and he loathed his readiness to do so. Something ugly burned in him at the thought that his enemy thought him to be above harming women when in truth Tobirama wasn’t that noble. Women were as dangerous as men if they wanted to be.

“Nuh uh, I don’t think so. He always glares at me whenever I see him! Especially after the festival, he always had this scary look on his face when we greeted each other. Did I do something? Kami, I’m never letting Hashirama convince me to join a drinking contest ever again. I can't even remember anything that night.”

“Ah, you were a mess if you must know. A blubbering mess and Tobirama had the honor to carry your sleeping self back to the compound.” 

Silence. Tobirama could actually imagine the woman's face turning red, from her neck to the tip of her ears. He'd seen it once, when Hashirama was far too affectionate in public to be labeled friendly. Hugs are too intimate to be done in the middle of the market. 

“ No way, I don’t even remember Tobirama-sama arriving- much less him-”

“Trust me, you were hilariously drunk that night of course you don’t remember a lot of things, it was that Senju who escorted you and not this one.” 

“Oh no, no no no . Kami no wonder he hates me, I must’ve puked on him or something. Crap, what if I did ? I can’t believe this, I’m so dead. Why did none of you tell me earlier- stop laughing Madara. ” Tobirama grabbed another brush from his desk, ignoring the Uchiha snort and continued his work. Maybe he should lighten up on the woman. Albeit, most of the times they met were when he was in a bad mood because of his fool of a brother or the damn elders.

“Fine, I’ll- itai ! What the hell ?”

“That was for being a jerk .”

“I’m going to get you- itai ! That hurts, woman-” Tobirama heard the Uchiha snap but he knew the raven-haired man held no hatred in it, he knew what hatred sounded like coming from the Uchiha.

“Okay, maybe I went a little overboard-”

“A little ?”

“Oh stop whining, you big baby. It's just a small bruise-”

“Are you sure there isn’t anything internal? Kami, my ribs ache, Sakura. Do that thing again- no not that one woman. Are you trying to kill me?” Tobirama heard muffled laughter and not for the first time, something in his chest churned. And just like all of the times it did, Tobirama dismissed it.

“I’m just kidding, Madara,”

Tobirama would never confess to feeling a little bit annoyed when she called the Uchiha in such a friendly manner. She knew him longer, she stayed in their compound for heaven’s sake, but she always attached that annoying prefix to his name. She never called Hashirama the way she called him, and Tobirama recently found it irritating.

“If you get hurt, I will break every single bone in his body.” It was such a contrast to his bubbly brother that Tobirama had to do a double-take at Hashirama. Sakura just laughed at the threat, probably thinking it to be one of the brunet’s terrible jokes, but Tobirama knew better when he saw the promise in his dark brown eyes.

“Hashirama, it's just a spar!” Winter was ending, the snow stopped several days ago but the air was still cold. Hashirama somehow persuaded the healer to stay for two more weeks when a few letters arrived telling her that the villages she visited were okay.

“Yeah, but you haven’t trained in a long time!”

“That’s why I need to spar, Hashirama-”

“But it doesn’t have to be with Izuna,” Tobirama rolled his eyes at Hashirama’s whinings, well used to his overprotective nature the past weeks. Honestly, Hashirama made it seem like Sakura was a fragile flower. At first, Tobirama thought so as well but now he knew better when he found the fire in her eyes. She was strong and smart. He just didn’t know to what extent.

“Izuna is an old friend, he wouldn’t hurt me seriously.” Looking resigned, Hashirama sighed with all the theatrics he could possibly muster. Tch, drama queen.

“Have fun, then , Tobi and I were going to spar anyway.” They certainly weren’t planning that but he supposed his brother needed the support.

“Hn, you better start stretching, Sakura-san.” Tobirama pointedly glanced at the Uchiha a few distances behind her, already stretching for their quick spar. Sakura flashed him one of her brilliant smiles, and already he could feel Hashirama perk up from his dejected slouch.

“Will do, Tobirama-sama.” With that, she turned to the training grounds and Tobirama dragged his brother’s discontented person to the side for their spar. It’s been a while since he let out some steam.

The earthquake was certainly unexpected and it must've been an embarrassing sight, the Senju brothers were startled and unbalanced like fawns who just started learning to walk. Hashirama met his eyes and shock was evident in his chocolate orbs before worry flooded them. Tobirama barely let out a sound before his brother zipped past him and towards the field where the Uchiha and Sakura were training, obviously the source of the impact.

Not a second passed and Tobirama was already on his brother’s tail only to stop at the sight of the Uchiha desperately dodging the woman’s punches. Hashirama was beside him, both of them were looking at the small craters littering the field and Tobirama was stuck on how those came to being.

His question was answered a few seconds later when the Uchiha quickly swerved to the side to avoid a nasty punch, which connected to the earth which shattered like glass. The resulting tremble of the field made Tobirama sympathize with the Uchiha’s wide eyed stare at the woman’s hands.

The mirth in her viridian eyes and a playful smile painted across her lips made him feel something he wasn’t familiar with. 

At his side, something keenly animalistic rumbled from Hashirama’s chest. Tobirama wisely ignored it for the most part. It was quiet but it made something crawl under Tobirama’s skin. The battling duo in the field were too far to hear it, at least Tobirama prayed they were.

Two months went by fast and winter was completely over, but the cold still lingered. It was early in the morning, the sun barely rising from his slumber, but here they were. Gathered below the village gates, saying their respective farewells to the unknown woman. 

But, based on the tender goodbyes of the Uchiha brother and Hashirama’s pained stature, maybe it was only Tobirama who didn’t quite know the woman because he never bothered to study her, to know her. He was too busy with the village and his family to waste time with his brother’s friend. 

If Hashirama hadn’t invited him today, he probably wouldn’t even be here.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” His brother asked once more for the umpteenth time since last night. His brown eyes boring down on green ones and what a pair they look together, like a tree. Tobirama was disgruntled, that he could admit, because no doubt his brother will annoy him the following days, bemoaning the lack of pink-haired women in the village.

Viridian eyes twinkled and she gave Hashirama one of her sorry smiles that Tobirama became familiar with. Tobirama may not know her personally, but he became familiar with her.

“Sorry Hokage-sama. Duty calls,” Madara grunted at her words before shoving his brother aside, obviously offering himself to be subjected to her hugs much like his brother was.

“Ignore him, if you agree to his words you’ll never be able to leave. Look what happened to me,” The Uchiha said but with a small smile on his face, Tobirama rarely saw it but the first time he did it was when the name of the village was being announced. Sakura laughed at Hashirama’s indignant shout of dissent and moved to briefly embrace the Uchiha clan head for one last time.

“Duly noted. Thanks for the advice, Madara.”

“Anytime,” Madara replied, letting go of the woman to ruffle her pink hair. Izuna rolled his eyes at his brother’s smug demeanor but Tobirama could see the smile on the younger Uchiha’s face.

“Visit soon, Sakura-chan. Next time, you should stay with us.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with staying with us?” Hashirama interjected, with a gesture towards Tobirama and himself.

“It's unfair how you got her cooped up in your compound for the whole winter.”

“What? No, it wasn’t. Sakura-chan was our guest.”

“Well she can be the Uchiha’s guest next time,” His brother was obviously finding it difficult to counter Izuna’s argument and before this could dissolve into some petty pissing contest Hahirama and Izuna were surprisingly prone to do, Tobirama turned to Sakura without the usual frown on his face. Hopefully, it didn’t look like he was glaring because people normally assumed he was when it was just his natural look.

“Stay safe in your travels, Sakura-san,”

“I will, thank you for your hospitality, Tobirama-sama. I enjoyed my stay.” And it still irked him, how she had to exert effort and be polite with him when she was so casual with everyone else even with the Uchiha brothers. It was obvious to Tobirama that there was history there, but he didn’t want to pry and it didn’t seem to warrant any digging on his part because it didn’t concern the village’s safety.

The Uchiha were a loyal bunch, and recently they seemed more generous with their lighthearted attitude and friendly banter with the other villagers.

Still made Tobirama want to grill her though, because he’s curious and he wanted to know how deep the bond between her and the Uchiha brothers went. Before he could even think of stopping himself, Tobirama spoke his true thoughts.

“Tobirama.” Sakura blinked at him, evidently confused and Tobirama did not like repeating himself but since she didn’t understand he had to.

“You can just call me Tobirama.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth the woman lit up like a bonfire, all smiles, and bright eyes. He never wanted to burn so badly before.

“Oh! Okay then, Tobirama, please just call me Sakura. My winter here has been warm,” She turned to the others, the smile never leaving her face. “Thank you for letting me stay but I must go. People to tend to, villages in need of help, you know, the usual.”

“Be sure to stay warm, Sakura, the night is still cold,” Izuna said, giving a small hug to Sakura, who immediately hugged back.

“If you’re asking if I have the clothes Madara gave me, the answer is yes I packed them. Thank you, could’ve been better with the uchiwa fan and all but it will help me a lot and I will cherish it.” Tobirama sighed in resignation as his brother turned to his long-time friend, aghast at the revelation. He was hiding the frustration when he realized she wasn't making a move to hug him, unlike the others.

“You gave her your clan clothes ?” Hashirama asked, affronted. Madara shrugged, seemingly not caring but the smirk on his lips said otherwise.

“It was nothing, a few old robes no one was going to use anymore.”

Before his brother could reply, Sakura placed a hand on Hashirama and immediately his brother lost his ire. It was like magic. Tobirama glanced away at the intimate moment, it felt like he was intruding on something. He ignored the stabbing feeling underneath his ribs.

“I’ll be going now, Hashirama.” Tobirama could practically feel how his brother was torn between imprisoning Sakura within the compound or running away with her. Neither idea won because his brother just sagged with defeat and fragility Tobirama never saw in the older man.

“Alright, be careful out there.” Sakura nodded, all solemn and unlike the joking nature she was exhibiting just seconds ago.

“I will visit soon, maybe in spring or summer. I’ll write letters whenever I can.”

Hashirama looked resigned in his stance, and nodded in reply to Sakura.

“Okay,” His brother breathed out, like the idea of this woman leaving was the same as the oxygen leaving the atmosphere. Sakura surveyed the village behind them and exchanged one last look with all of them. When her eyes landed on him, Tobirama dared to hope that she could understand him and his silent messages.

‘Visit soon,’

“… Nii-san, you didn’t give her Okaa-san’s clothes, did you?” Not even a few minutes after her departure, Izuna spoke in a low tone to his brother but all of them knew that all of them heard it.

Madara was silent in reply but the fact that he didn’t deny it was already telling them that, basically, yeah he gave the Uchiha Matriarch clothes to Sakura.

Hashirama, who was obviously sulking a while ago, quickly overcame his shock at the news and warm fury showed on his face, “ Madara, ” His brother all but growled before the Uchiha disappeared in a blur and Hashirama gave chase.

A glance to his Uchiha counterpart, who glanced back at him, told him that they both shared the pain of having stupid older brothers. Tobirama didn’t know how to feel about that.

Chapter Text

How does it feel to be free?

Tobirama never got used to her being in the compound, but now that she was gone Tobirama acutely felt her disappearance. No more suspicious movement in the back garden (because she was playing with her snow friend), no more soft humming in the hallway whenever she was near (a tune he can’t pinpoint,  but felt achingly familiar), no more hesitant smiles nor the striking pink hair he could find in the sea of brown and faded yellow.

Most importantly Hashirama wouldn’t fucking shut up about her absence and it really grated his nerves. His brother started sulking the day she left, and always voiced his thoughts to him whenever Tobirama dropped by to bring paperwork. Even during their rare free time when they drink tea it was always Sakura this and Sakura that and "Tobirama, she should have stayed ."

The worst moments were when his brother didn’t speak at all.

There would be a dark cloud over his head and the brown haired man would be lost in thought, utterly solemn for once. Tobirama had wished for his brother to gain some sort of seriousness in his attitude but not like this.

The Uchiha were faring better after she left, no longer were they seen as heartless crows and jutsu vultures, but people still fear them. Mostly civilians but Tobirama saw the improvement in teamwork between the Uchiha and other shinobi, as well as some unspoken, awkward camaraderie. It was impossible to say that this was due to that mess of a drinking contest, but Tobirama was certain that it was a breaking point.

Apparently, honest words were exchanged that night between his family and theirs and not some ugly threats or venomous insults. Under the influence of alcohol, unimportant thoughts and strategies flew out the window and all that was left were the emotions and wreckage brought on by the war they waged on each other.

It was a shaky start, and it could’ve ended completely differently with blood and gore but it didn’t, and Tobirama found himself grateful. His dream of peace was true, he just didn’t know how to find it, and their children would have no need to learn the ways of war.

The Uchiha were no longer a big problem to him. Tobirama has a more annoying problem in the form of his brooding brother, dressed in his Senju and Hokage robes, looking like the world is ending.

“Aniki, stop it.” Brown eyes looked at him and Hashirama raised an eyebrow, looking every part of the big brother Tobirama never saw in him.

“Stop what?” Tobirama rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question, before gesturing the entirety of Hashirama’s depressed self.

“This. Whatever this is, stop it,” Then he neared the table and dropped off the scrolls he was holding with his other hand, he already sorted it and placed helpful annotations for his brother to look over. Hashirama just needed to read it over and sign it. “You have a village to run, aniki, get your head out of the gutter.”

His words seem to work with how his brother’s eyes lightened somewhat, but the tired smile on Hashirama’s face rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t the one who decided to build an entire shinobi village from scratch.

“You’re right,” Hashirama admitted before sighing dramatically with his face in his hands. “I just miss her, Tobi. She could’ve stayed with us and been a healer here and everything.”

Again, Tobirama didn’t know how deep his brother’s affection ran because he never asked and Hashirama never said anything explicitly romantic . Tobirama sometimes wondered how much Hashirama actually knew about the woman, when both of them were equally surprised when Sakura and the Uchiha brothers reunited in very amicable terms.

Tobirama shrugged, he didn’t know why the woman didn’t stay. All he knew of her was her physique, some of her skills as a traveling healer, her unexpected fighting abilities, and that her eyes were really beautiful.

“She probably has a family out there, Hashirama. Doesn’t she tell you?”

The dip in his brother’s shoulders told Tobirama as much, no Sakura never told him.

“Not really….” Tobirama shot him a look, what the hell do they talk so animatedly about then? Hashirama saw the question in his eyes and answered without the usual exuberance in his voice.

“I tried talking about her family before, you know since I always told her about our more than outlandish childhood adventures, she looked lost every time she answered. She always changes the topic somehow,” Tobirama narrowed his eyes at Hashirama, his ears reddening, he better have not told Sakura about the one with the sheeps. That was one tale he was willing to take to his grave, and Hashirama’s if ever. 

“She told me some… things. It's just, I think, uh- I don’t think-” Hashirama stopped from talking, an ugly frown twisting his lips. Obviously he was confused and Tobirama could agree that confusion is one of the things they both detest.

“Spit it out, aniki.”

“Well, based on what few things she told me, I’m inclined to believe… she doesn’t have a living family, not anymore. At least, that’s what I think, I hope not. Though, if it were it would be okay since we’re here. The village’s here. I’m here.” Tobirama hummed at that, mulling in his own thoughts as his brother began reading the scrolls. 

Hashirama’s affection seemed to stem from the fact that Sakura was alone in the world, but Tobirama could see the desire to keep the woman here in the village, keep her behind the walls where she was safe. Tobirama couldn’t relate to that, no one can really keep anyone completely safe but here they were trying to keep their people safe.

Another thought entered Tobirama’s mind and it made him uneasy for even considering it. He had half a mind to voice it out but looking at Hashirama trying his best to work made Tobirama clamp his mouth shut. It was nothing anyways… hopefully Sakura just really had patients scattered around the lands that she needed to visit every now and then.

Her cause was as honorable and honest as she was, and it must be an arduous task to accomplish for a frail looking woman like her. Still, helping the weak and helpless appeared to be embedded in her nature and Tobirama saw how it made her happy. The only thing was that whenever she was happy, she tended to smile a lot and it might attract… unwanted attention with her beauty.

“What is it?” Hashirama asked, eyes not looking away from the scrolls, uncharacteristically focused on his work. Tobirama sighed, it was conveniently easy to forget how his brother was a venerated shinobi that had the skills to support such reverence from the people.

“Nothing,”

“That sigh didn’t sound like it was nothing,” Hashirama looked away from the scroll in his hands and stared at him, curious all-seeing eyes made Tobirama cave. It wasn’t his problem anyway… until it eventually will be his problem someway because of Hashirama but for once, Tobirama decided that he’d just cross the bridge once he got there.

“I was thinking that if she has no family to speak of, it is highly likely for her to have close friends,” Tobirama kept his eyes on his brother, noting his reaction and gait so that he could have some clue as to how this puppy love was possibly more than that. “-or a lover.”

“What,” Hashirama immediately replied, a bite in his voice. Tobirama shrugged, he figured that was how his brother would react.

“It's just a guess. A woman in her young age, as beautiful and skillful as her, is bound to have more than a few suitors,” Tobirama explained, and Hashirama frowned at him as if he said something wrong.

“I know she’s beautiful, but I don’t think…” His brother trailed off, apprehensive, before looking back at Tobirama with an accusation he wasn’t aware of. “Unless, she told you about something?”

Tobirama raised an eyebrow at that, did his brother seriously think he and that woman were close enough to talk about such a sensitive topic? Hashirama deflated at his stare, obviously hearing the unsaid answer Tobirama conveyed.

“Right, of course she didn’t.”

“Hn, these need to be done by tomorrow.” Tobirama grunted, clearly talking about the many scrolls he deposited on his brother’s desk. Hashirama fell back to his chair and groaned at the amount of work.

“Tobi-”

“No.” With that said, Tobirama left his grumbling brother. Distracting Hashirama with work was better than letting him be. Kami, with all of his moping, Tobirama was surprised the mushrooms haven’t started popping up yet.

A few days later Tobirama was cornered by a group he never expected to be cornered by. Looking at the various determined eyes gazing at him, Tobirama never felt this type of helplessness before. Children weren’t exactly his area of expertise unless they were at the other end of his blade.

He was just relaxing in peace with tea in one of the secluded areas of his family compound when he was ambushed by this mixed group of clan and civilian children. Obviously they were too afraid to speak so Tobirama internally readied himself for what was surely a troublesome conversation before breaking the silent staring competition.

“Yes?”

The children appeared to be stunned at his initiative to speak with them before one child, with shocking gray hair and stormy gray eyes, spoke up with the conduct of a leader.

“You are Hokage-sama’s brother, Senju Tobirama-sama?” Tobirama nodded with all seriousness the children seemed to exhibit. Kami what do these little gremlins want?

“A-Ano!” Another child spoke, voice squeaky and annoyingly loud, and Tobirama found the source to be a furiously blushing Hyuuga child that he was surprised he hadn’t taken note of before. Well, they were in his family compound and they were probably let in by his brother or some other clansmen. Meaning, Tobirama actually let down his guard for once thinking it was safe but now he was debating whether or not his own family compound was a safe haven for him. 

‘A Hyuuga,’ Tobirama eyed the embarrassed girl, her lilac eyes looking at the ground with unshed tears, ‘Interesting. How was she able to roam freely?’

Tobirama knew first hand how the Hyuuga clan worked, being the one who negotiated with them and handled their integration within the village. Most of their traditions were… inhumane and Tobirama disagreed with their views but he wasn’t in the position to voice his thoughts. All families have their own problems.

Back to the situation at hand, Tobirama let the girl breathe for a few seconds and make her realize he wasn’t going to lash out on her for being meek and annoying. The other children were surprisingly quiet, and eerily calm, not at all mocking the girl for her attitude. Patient, they were all patient and probably meant their parents were nice and raised their children well.

The Hyuuga seemed to regain some of her confidence from the encouraging look of her peers, and gazed at his red orbs. Tobirama tilted his head, indicating he was listening earnestly.

“Uhm, may- may we ask a question?” Never mind the fact that they did just ask him a question, Tobirama had to give them props. Normal adults rarely had the guts to confront him, much less their offsprings.

“You may.” The Hyuuga’s eyes widened, as if not expecting a positive response from him, before looking at her friends with something akin to excitement. The children all looked at each other, relief evident on their faces, and whispered words to each other that Tobirama feigned ignorance to. Eavesdropping on children was below him, besides he didn’t need anything from them. It was the other way around.

They seem to reach an agreement and the gray haired child stepped forward, jutting his chin out with a determined gleam in his eyes. Tobirama saw the red triangles lining his gray kimono and raised an eyebrow, a Hatake? What was a Hatake doing leading a ragtag bunch of children of civilians and clans? Notably from the Hyuuga, Nara, Yamanaka, and now that he saw them even some of his own baby relatives were in the mix.

“We want to know where Sakura-sensei went. Our parents haven’t told us anything, and they don’t even know her but we know her and she told us she needed to leave for ‘awhile’ but how long was ‘awhile’? We haven’t seen her in the past weeks! She told us she’d come back!”

A chorus of ‘Yeah!’ and nods of agreement followed the short speech. After getting over his initial shock, Tobirama felt everything clicked. That woman was teaching these brats during her stay here, no wonder there was an influx of children's chakra in the compound whenever he meditated. Sakura was teaching them in the safe haven that was the Senju compound, no other clan would dare refuse an invitation to visit nor cause a ruckus within or near its walls.

The wide eyes staring at him made him feel like he was a bad guy, like he was the one who pushed her away. Well, in another world he would’ve done just that but alas in this one he did no such thing.

“Haruno-san has a job to do outside the village, it will be a long time before she returns. What else did she tell you?” He wasn’t aware that Sakura spoke with these kids, much less taught them. Maybe he was too lax with her because of how Kiyoko praised her honest, hardworking attitude in the compound or how Hashirama didn’t fail to say some good qualities about her personality.

“We know she has a job , but what’s taking her so long?” One of the midgets piped in, undoubtedly a Nara with his mix of gray and green yukata. His perceptive eyes were unusual for his age and Tobirama remembered being trapped in one of his clanmen’s kekkai genkai, and the helplessness in all of it. He ignored the fact that the children ignored his own question.

“She’s busy visiting other villages-”

“But why does she have to visit them?” A blond child interrupted him, defiant with his blue eyes that lacked the normal pupil. Just great, a Yamanaka child. A little mind dwelling beast.

“Yeah, and it’s not like she lives in any of those!” Another piped in before Tobirama could get in a word.

“Haruno-san is a healer. She goes-”

“Why didn’t she just stay here and heal here instead?” Tobiramai felt the vein on his forehead twitch at being intervened once more while he was talking. Ugh, children .

“She doesn’t live here-”

“But isn’t Konoha her home?” Tobirama bit his tongue to not lash out at these little unsuspecting goblins. Don’t they know the meaning of waiting for an answer?  Maybe he should propose to Hashirama an academy for children? Surveying the mixed group once more, noting the blend of civilians and clan, Tobirama inwardly nodded to himself. An academy for all children so that they could be taught about respect , and maybe some other important life skills.

‘Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.’ Tobirama thought, thinking of their worrying ratio of little shinobi people to the increasing number of civilians in their population.

“Tobirama-sama?”

Tobirama snapped his head to the group of children at the sound of his name, a faint red on the tip of his ears. He was thinking of the proposal of the academy that he forgot the little gremlins were still grilling him for answers.

“No, Konoha is not her home. She’s a nomad, like what your families once were. She travels village to village to help people in need.”

Murmurs erupted from the children, most were formed for complaints and whines, and Tobirama thought that was the end of it. Now it was his turn to grill these little ducks for answers, like what did their Sakura- sensei teach them? As he was about to question them, the meek Hyuuga spoke in a soft voice.

“Does she not like Konoha?” The murmurs stopped, all of the children had sadness painted across their faces at the revelation and Tobirama prayed that they don’t cry because he can’t handle crying people in general, much less kids. He also didn’t like the question because it was a question he has been asking himself for the past few days.

Hashirama did not voice out this question but Tobirama knew that it was on his brother’s mind as well. After all, their budding village was well sought out for most civilians. Specifically, merchants and those clanless shinobi who believed they had the skills to make it. 

Sakura was generously welcomed to their fold, bypassing the usual papers and procedures that she would normally have undergone if not for his brother’s, the Hokage’s voucher of utter trust he bestowed upon the woman. She was welcomed by both their clan, the Uchiha, and even the civilians she has interacted with.

All that, yet she chose to go away.

It left a bitter taste in Tobirama’s mouth, one he was familiar with. It felt like she deemed the village to be lacking, that his clan was lacking, that his brother was lacking, that Tobirama himself was lacking and not enough .

But Tobirama knew better. The village was incomplete but not lacking. The woman was on a mission, to rid the world of its common diseases and provide relief for the poor. She walked among the downtrodden in hopes of giving them light and happiness. 

Tobirama cannot want her to be shackled to their village, not when she has her goal in mind. Not when she was so happy outside the walls and free.

Especially not when he knew better, when she thought that no one was looking and she looked at their village like she was a mother. When she looked at the village like it was a child to be protected, to be loved, and to be cherished. Tobirama knew the unspoken truth.

“No,” Tobirama made sure to be gentle, because these were real children and not some cannon fodder for war. Their dejected faces reminded him closely of Hashirama. “She loves Konoha, but she is needed elsewhere.”

“Needed?” The children echoed, oblivious to Sakura’s ambition.

“Yes. Needed. Haruno-san is a healer, is she not?” The children nodded at him, keeping quiet. No doubt they realized he could say and explain more if their own voices weren’t taking the air. Tobirama nodded back in approval.

“There are villages that do not have people like her, people who can heal. People who can help. Our people, our shinobi, also offer their services but not all people can afford our aid.” The words were slow to sink in their small minds but Tobirama saw the gears of the Nara child’s furiously working at the newfound information he’s given them.

“But those people can afford Sakura-sensei? How? Sakura-sensei’s the best, how can they afford her when they can’t even afford our shinobi?”

Tobirama had to give it to the Sakura, she has a tendency to attract children and worshippers to herself like a mother and a goddess.

“She doesn’t expect payment for her services, she expects gratitude and for the people’s happiness.”

The children furiously whispered to each other and Tobirama could hear the incredulity in one of the civilian children’s tone of “She doesn’t get paid?” Must be the daughter of a merchant then.

“But why? She’s good, really good, why don’t people pay her?” The Yamanaka child asked, with conviction in his voice that his teacher deserved to be paid. In some way, maybe he’s right and she does deserve it. Tobirama pretended to mull over the words when in reality he already knew the answer. The Sakura he knew was kind, he was reminded of that abandoned fox in the cold snow.

“I’m sure all of you know who Haruno-san is as a person. If people can and want to pay her, she will accept but what if those people who need help cannot repay her deeds? What will they do?”

Confusion spread through the children as they thought over his question, this experience was actually nice. Tobirama thought that children were an annoying and clingy bunch but teaching them and sating their thirst for knowledge placed a warm thing in his stomach. After a few seconds of silence because no one knew the answer, Tobirama continued.

“Correct, we don't know what they will do. They cannot give her anything, even though she provided them aid. Haruno-san knows this, that is why she doesn’t expect anything in return and the people outside love her for it. She doesn’t care whether she gets paid or not and the poor are not pressured to pay her when they seek her for help.”

Understanding dawned on the children’s faces and Tobirama smiled in satisfaction at being the one who taught these little gremlins, albeit a topic he wasn’t sure he was expert in. ‘I mean, Hashirama is more versed in the knowledge about Sakura.’

“Why can’t our shinobi be like Sakura-sensei then? Help people without asking for money.” A child voiced out unexpectedly, and embarrassingly Tobirama recognized the child as his own baby relative named Kagari. Tobirama wasn’t sure if she should teach a group of younglings about the mechanisms of the budding village, specifically about how they need money to live and to build their home.

Thankfully, one of the civilian children smacked his relative by the head with a light jab. His relative whined at the girl who hit her but the girl was having none of it and explained. “Stupid, we need money to build stuff and trade stuff for the village. Sakura-sensei doesn’t need to build a village, that’s why she doesn’t need the money.”

The children looked up to him to see if what their peer said was right, and Tobirama confirmed her simple explanation to be right. ‘Note to self,’ Tobirama eyed how the civilian girl rubbed his cousin’s head in a sorry manner, ‘Be wary of civilians.’

“Do not worry. Haruno-san plans to return sometime in the future,” That lightened up the dejected faces of the kids, good. He was in no qua qualified to handle a bunch of crying, snot-nosed brats.  “So now that I’ve answered all of your questions-”

“Wait!” Tobirama looked at the Nara who interrupted him. The child started fidgeting under his stare and became weirdly meek like the Hyuuga and it did not fit the usual laidback description of the Nara clan. Well, the meek did not fit the strict description of the Hyuuga clan either. Tobirama raised an eyebrow and the child found it as a sign to continue, reddening cheeks and all.

“I just- uh- Is Sakura-sensei truly a civilian?” Tobirama, recalling the craters that littered the training field they used weeks ago, questioned so as well in the privacy of his mind but he was told that she was a civilian through and through. Sakura told him so herself. Tobirama wondered if this was a question he was free to answer or not, since it involved personal details of another person, before answering so anyways. The hopeful faces directed at him made him give in.

“As far as I know, yes. Haruno-san is of civilian descent.”

“Is Hokage-sama really gonna marry Sakura-sensei then? I thought that shinobi clan people don’t marry civilians because they might ‘weakened the blood’ or something. We asked Sakura-sensei about it and she got really quiet before telling us she wasn’t marrying Hokage-sama cuz she thought that Hokage-sama doesn’t like her that way but he does , we could see it and Hokage-sama is really annoying during our lessons. Sometimes he visits out of the blue and distracts Sakura-sensei from teaching us and Hokage-sama sometimes looks at Sakura-sensei like how Otou-san looks at Okaa-san when Sakura-sensei wasn’t looking. And-!” It was an amusing sight to see the Nara get so worked up, to the point of ranting, before pausing and continuing in a smaller voice but laced with conviction. “Hokage-sama is really troublesome .”

Tobirama allowed himself to chuckle at the last part and the agreements of the children that followed but he inwardly groaned. His brother knew the secret lessons and didn’t bother to inform him about it. He was so going to strangle that tree loving idiot.

Another thing he’s annoyed about is how the fuck is he supposed to answer this? Why was he even being asked this ? Damn it, Hashirama should be the one they were interrogating but he’s too busy prancing around with his Hokage robes and doing paperwork in his office.

Maybe Tobirama should’ve taken the mantle when his brother offered but then again… ‘Ugh no, paperwork is tedious, the clan heads are a pain in the ass.’

“Tobirama-sama?”

“No, Hokage-sama is not marrying your sensei.” Tobirama answered with a straight face, nearly smiling at the relief that bloomed on the children’s faces. It was hilarious how Hashirama’s one of the many obstacles to Sakura’s hand would be a gaggle of little gremlins who despised the Hokage that distracted their sensei. ‘Troublesome indeed , ’ Tobirama thought.

“How about Tobirama-sama?” One of the civilian children piped in and Tobirama felt his face warm at the mere thought. Him? Marrying her? It was more embarrassing when he realized the thought was not as weird as it sounded to be. His clan loved her, his brother even more so, it wouldn’t be out of place to have her in the compound as his wife except for the fact that Hashirama might pierce him through with his mokuton.

“… No. I have no plans on marrying your sensei.” The children stared at him, as if accusing him of lying, before seemingly satisfied with his answer. The Hatake kid nodded at him, seemingly pleased with their little ‘interrogation'. It was apparent that he was the appointed leader of the ragtag group, though he kept quiet for most part of the exchange.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Tobirama-sama. We’re sorry for disturbing your leisure time,” The gray haired child bowed and soon after the rest of the children rose up to bow at him as well.  Tobirama wanted to question how they did it so fluidly, as if a single unit of twelve children, before dismissing it. Of course they moved with such coordination, they were Sakura’s group of ducklings. Tobirama didn’t even notice how they all sat in front of him in typical fashion of a class of students, a probable position they were used to settling in when someone was teaching. Tobirama nodded back before replying.

“Now that I have answered your questions, I have some of my own.” Tobirama directed the following question to the Hatake kid. “What have you been learning from your sensei?”

It was one of those crazy nights where Hashirama was crazier than usual and decided to host a small dinner, the Uchiha brothers invited. Tobirama had half the mind to skip out on the meal altogether but he thought of the village, of the people mending and blending, and he didn’t want to hinder that. No matter how much he despised that pair of raven haired peacocks.

So here he was, seated at his brother’s right at the small round chabudai they normally used for personal endeavors like tea or meal times facing one arrogant Madara and an equally annoying Izuna.

Well at least he wasn’t alone in suffering his brother’s irritating plans.

“Tobi! Remove that look on your face, it's night for leisure brother!” Hashirama called out, pausing from one of his bickering with Madara.

“That ‘look’ is my face , Hashirama. Why don’t you try removing that idiocy on your face and see how difficult it is,”

Izuna laughed at his joke and Tobirama recoiled at the sound, he still doesn’t understand how these two brothers even tolerate it stepping a foot in their compound and being in his presence. He was sure they disliked being in the same space as him as he was to them.

“He is right, Hashirama, not everyone can have your charismatic idiocy plastered on their faces,” Madara acquiesced, and Tobirama nearly choked on his tea. Why were they like this? They were never this friendly, hell Madara tried killing him months ago after his fight with Izuna. 

It was after- Tobirama’s eyes moved to the younger brother of the Uchiha siblings, observing how he moved without the difficulty of any lasting injury. It was after that woman entered the village did their clan begin to open up to the idea of the village.

It was after her visit that the Uchiha clan seemed to be approachable people.

“Woah, okay, I cannot handle this unfair teaming up of standoffish people against me. Izuna! Back up!”

“You’re on your own, Hokage-sama,” Said Uchiha replied, calmly sipping his sake. Tobirama was holding a cup of his own, like all of them were. He still felt like he was asleep and merely experiencing one of his less gory, and more weird nightmares that involved the Uchiha brothers.

“You know what? I call insubordination. Insubordination on all of you,” Hashirama declared before downing his drink and thrusting it to his best friend for a refill. Madara refilled it with all the grace of a shinobi of his caliber, all the while rolling his eyes at Hashirama’s ridiculous behavior.

The conversation about the village workings and clan problems flowed and it lulled Tobirama into a sense of belonging. This was familiar. Talking about strategies and plans was familiar, not like bantering with the Uchiha brothers, which was unfamiliar.

It was just a fleeting thought that niggled in the back of his mind but when the Uchiha clan came to topic, Tobirama remembered the gaggle of children who cornered him just earlier this day and noticed how it was a mix of various clans except there was not a single raven haired Uchiha spawn in their lot.

It was perplexing, because there was even a Hyuuga in their mix so having an Uchiha may not be so farfetched. Although he was in the Senju compound at that time and Tobirama did not doubt that Uchiha children were taught to stray away from their side of the village.

Looking at his brother, Tobirama questioned.

“Did you know that Haruno-san was teaching a group of children?” Without fail his brother paused his pissing contest with Izuna and glanced at him with surprise in his eyes.

“How’d you find out?” The brunet asked and Tobirama gave his brother a look as if he was really asking Tobirama, who made it his personal mission to know all the workings and happenings inside the village, such a stupid question. Madara and Izuna stayed quiet, actively listening to their conversation.

“Ah,” Hashirama let out before hesitantly answering, whilst scratching the back of his neck. A nervous tick he should really outgrow. “Yes….?”

“And you didn’t tell me.” It wasn’t a question but Tobirama knew his brother would interpret it as one. Hashirama groaned before sipping his drink, eyes avoiding his red ones.

“It may have slipped my mind….” Tobirama stayed quiet, his brother was a terrible liar and he’d confess sooner or later. One of the major reasons why Tobirama and, sometimes, Madara were the ones handling the more sensitive cases involving village politics. Unsurprisingly Hashirama downed his drink again before pointing the offending cup to Tobirama, who ignored it.

“Ugh, fine. Honestly , I just knew you were going to make a huge fuss about it if I ever told you. Sakura was, as you say but I beg to differ, a ‘safety hazard’ and ‘safety hazards’ shouldn’t be around children, much less clan children.” Tobirama took in the words and concluded, his brother was right. Not about the fuss part, because Tobirama wasn’t the dramatic one between both of them, but the part where he would have taken proper precautions when Sakura decided to teach the children. They were the future of their village after all, and obviously Sakura had precious knowledge that could aid in their growth.

“Regardless, I heard of it and it has already happened. What I want to ask is what do you plan to do, Hashirama?”

“What do you mean?”

Exasperated, Tobirama rolled his eyes at his brother’s lack of foresight.

“What Tobirama meant is, Hashirama, the children she taught, was a mix of different bloods. Clans and civilians. Undoubtedly they would be expecting their lessons to continue and may try practicing on their own, since Tobirama somehow heard wind of it. And undoubtedly,” Madara swirled his sake cup in his hands, gazing within the cup and Tobirama was curious as to what the Uchiha saw there. “The clans won’t be happy to learn their children were off prancing around with other children they would not deem worthy of their clan member’s presence.”

“Which begs the question,” Tobirama started, once Madara was finished and drinking his sake. “Why were there no Uchiha in her students?”

Madara raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding his question, but Izuna took the silence as a chance to laugh out loud before quieting.

“Don’t tell me you were cornered by the children before you found out? Did that actually happened? Shikaichi told me something about his younger brother but I didn’t actually think it was real ,” Izuna wheezed out, his laughter returning. Tobirama felt his cheeks burn at the accurate accusation. He didn’t reply but instead drank from his cup, which was enough of an answer to Hashirama because the brunet laughed at his silence.

“Tobi, were you really ambushed by a few kids?”

“Yes, no thanks to you , Hashirama.” Tobirama snapped back at his brother’s jibe. It was true. This was all Hashirama’s fault. If only he hadn’t spent so much time annoying Sakura during her lessons and giving the children a terrible impression of their Hokage , the children would have confronted their approachable and amicable Hokage instead of the vicious second spare. He was reminded how undaunted children can be once they mustered the courage.

“Such a prejudiced accusation!”

“ Troublesome ,” Tobirama growled, “That was what the children thought of their esteemed Shodaime Hokage, all because you kept bugging their sensei during her lessons. Seriously , Hashirama? You couldn’t have controlled yourself in front of the kids?”

Immediately Madara and Izuna zoomed in on Hashirama's face at the revelation. Tobirama took satisfaction at his brother’s nervous chuckle.

Madara whistled at the lack of instant denial at Tobirama’s accusation, before saying. “Damn, Hashirama, never thought you’d sink this low.”

Izuna shook his head, Tobirama didn’t know if the disappointment he was portraying was real or just for show. With Izuna, Tobirama always had a hard time to figure out what the Uchiha was thinking.

“How the mighty has fallen,” The young Uchiha lamented with equal theatrics as Hashirama was inclined to do, emptying his sake cup before thrusting it to Tobirama’s front. Tobirama glanced at the offending appendage before hesitantly but gracefully pouring sake into it. Was he doing this right? Was he doing the right thing? Was getting friendly with the Uchiha the right way?

Tobirama asked all of this to his sake cup, and found no answer. Hashirama looked speechless at the continuous charges directed to his person. In reality, Hashirama having a lack of words to say is nearly impossible to happen.

“Okay, first of all, I did no such thing to warrant that impression on the children. Second of all, I only joined her class! If you were there, you would realize how invaluable her lessons are. Things like medicinal herbs, techniques, and even chakra control! Which was the best part, if you ask me.”

“And you are absolutely sure that is all you did every time you barge in their lessons?” Tobirama implored. Hashirama avoided his eyes and held his cup as if it would shield him from the question Tobirama wielded like a sword.

“…Maybe I did ask a few unrelated questions to the lessons at some point-” Tobirama snorted at that, he was certain his brother must’ve been harassing the poor healer for some personal backstory or another.

“Tsk, Hashirama. What would the children think of you now?” Madara taunted, holding his sake cup out to his brother for a refill to which Izuna refilled dutifully. Tobirama would estimate the bottle to be able to only refill two more cups before becoming empty.

“We already know the answer to that, aniki,” Izuna grinned, all feral and mocking, before parroting “ Troublesome. ”

Madara laughed at his brother while Hashirama squawked at the ridicule. Tobirama turned to the Uchiha clan head, his question was still left unanswered.

“When I was confronted by the children regarding Hashirama’s meddlesomeness in their lesson,” ‘And the long absence of their teacher,’ Tobirama thought. “I noticed how there wasn’t an Uchiha in the mix. Why?”

This time it was Madara who looked annoyed, at the question or at Tobirama in general he didn’t know. Either sounded plausible, to Tobirama.

“The Elders,” The Uchiha head spat, with clear disdain as if it was the origin of all world problems and maybe at some certain angle it could be. “They deemed it too ‘nauseating’ to have our children learn from a ‘no name’ healer from ‘some’ village. I couldn’t argue back, Sakura wasn’t considered to be in Konoha’s fold. If she were, I could’ve pushed for it but as it stands it is truly normal for us to not hand over our children to her.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Hashirama commented, offering a refill for Madara’s empty sake cup. The Uchiha gladly took the offer. Izuna let out a small chuckle and looked to the side wistfully, seeing something only he could see, before offhandedly saying.

“That doesn’t stop her from sneaking some lessons during training though,”

“Thank Kami she does it. Kagami has taken a scary liking to her ever since the first lesson on taijutsu.” Madara replied. Hashirama laughed at Izuna’s weak smile, no doubt he was recalling their last spar and him being at the receiving end of her punches. The Uchiha head looked at Hashirama thoughtfully, and Tobirama would have missed the analytical gaze if he weren’t looking at the Uchiha brothers, anticipation embedded within his bones. Anticipating for this entire friendly farce to blow up in his face.

What was Madara planning now?

Tobirama feigned to focus on his sake cup, and some part of him actually was because the sake itself was delicious and Tobirama wondered where Hashirama bought such commodity, all the while discreetly glancing at Madara as said Uchiha pursed his lips before plastering a deceivingly kind smirk.

“So Sakura, huh?” Was all he said and Tobirama downed his cup. This was not a conversation he wanted to listen in nor participate. Izuna let out a low whistle at his brother’s remark and Hashirama was all grins and smiles but the reddening on his face was obviously not from the alcohol.

Tobirama grabbed the sake bottle, and his guess was right as usual as the sake left was enough for one more cup. He poured it on his own.

‘This is going to be a long night,’ Tobirama sighed as Hashirama and Izuna delved into another pissing contest with one another, pertaining to the food preference of a certain pink haired woman. 

Chapter Text

I knew a boy who dreamt so wild, the Gods called it arrogance

The first time Hashirama saw her, he thought he was dreaming. ‘I mean,’ He thought tenderly, a smile on his face as he looked over a scroll given by Tobirama. ‘-who on earth would have petal hair such as hers.’

Here in the privacy of his office, without Tobirama badgering him about village work, Hashirama remembered that fateful encounter in the borders. She never noticed him, as far as he knew she gave no indication in knowing his presence, and Hashirama felt happy enough to just watch her fill her basket of herbs that day.

It was his first day of his forced vacation, courtesy of Tobirama. “You’re useless like this, Aniki. I’ll give you a week. Do something about,” Hashirama could remember how his brother gestured to his being with a face that screamed what the fuck and said. “this.”

So Hashirama had left the village with a team of three who were selected by Tobirama to guard their precious Shodaime. Hashirama picked the farthest town he was allowed to travel to, for some peace and quiet. After booking a room in the town’s inn, he took it to himself to get to know the area. He wandered outside the town and further in the forest where he found a river and a clearing just a short walk away.

And there she was.

She was so beautiful in her green and white yukata with a basket on her hip. Her pink hair was in a high bun, with a few strands curling around her face. He had deduced that she must’ve been gathering herbs and she looked so peaceful doing it. She did it like it was as easy as breathing and Hashirama had to blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Her figure amidst the field looked so natural and Hashirama loved the image. He didn’t know what to do with what he felt, he didn’t feel like talking to the girl nor did he feel like just getting up and leaving. Plus, it was dangerous for a woman to be alone so far from the village and hidden in the forest. So Hashirama had gotten comfortable on top of a branch and just watched her, checked the surroundings for anything harmful.

It was relaxing to just sit there and watch her do her chores, and he almost fell asleep in doing so. What actually happened was he jerked awake from his seat and had to hook his legs on the branch so that he wouldn’t fall and alert the woman of his presence.

He left quickly after that embarrassing moment.

Hashirama had half a wish that he could see her again, maybe sometime during his stay. She looked fun to talk to, with her obvious knowledge in plants. Plants were Hashirama’s affinity. ‘And she’s really pretty,’ Hashirama thought to himself with an embarrassed smile as he walked back to the village.

The second time he passed by the same clearing, Hashirama had expected that he wouldn’t see her again but there she was. Collecting flower upon flower, and his breath was stolen at how ethereal she looked with that white flower tucked in her hair. He didn’t know back then that those flowers were a double edge sword capable of killing and saving people.

It was late in the afternoon and Hashirama had arrived too late because the woman was obviously nearly done with her task. ‘It was fine,’ Hashirama had thought as he settled on his branch. ‘Now at least I know where to find her.’

Hashirama stayed and watched, just like the first time. He did nothing, because he felt like doing nothing. People were exhausting. As Hokage, he had a lot of people. Hashirama had went away for this short and last time of freedom to clear his head. It wasn’t like she was going to be part of his village anyway, obviously she lived in one of the towns near the area.

So Hashirama had relaxed on his branch, meditating, and waited for her to leave but then something adorable happened. The pink haired woman took a seat beneath a tree, opposite to where he was staying, and weaved some of the flowers into, what looked like, a crown. The look of concentration on her face was like those of a child, and it warmed his heart.

The crown was clumsily made with a few stalks sticking out weirdly from the ring of flowers but she had looked at it with pride. Hashirama smiled at that, this was peaceful. This was what he wanted to give to his people, this sense of peace and complete serenity that would encourage them to create things and not destroy them. Little did he know back then, that in order to create there will always be things that must be destroyed.

When she placed the crown on top of her petal hair however, with that self satisfied smile on her face, Hashirama’s chest constricted with a feeling he wasn’t familiar with. The only thing on his mind at the side was ‘Cute'.

She was cute and Hashirama felt an urge to squeeze her face, an urge he usually felt whenever he saw a cute fluffy animal. Or Tobirama when he was in a foul mood.

Hashirama left the clearing after making sure she was gone, a flower crown on her head and a hum to her steps.

The third time he saw her was not in the clearing but near one of the trees he grew. It happened yesterday, before he saw her in the clearing picking flowers and weaving them into a crown, when he wanted to squeeze in a bit of light training for his stay here.

He had found this unusual spot, unnaturally without the tall trees that were abundant in the forest. All he saw was an old stump, breathing with little life and a few leaves and branches sticking out. So Hashirama thought, why not?

That was when he lost track of time because what he did was, instead of using his wood release directly, meditate near the tree and use his chakra to encourage its growth. It was a half theory, and he didn’t think it would really work but hey, he got some meditation done. By the time he was feeling a little bit tired, the tree was back to its tall and majestic state.

He just wanted to check up on the tree to see if it was still alive, without the constant maintenance of his chakra, and saw her there examine the tree with her eyes and hands, running up and down the bark with feather light touches. Hashirama had goosebumps on his skin at the sight, as if it was him she was touching.

She looked at the tree, as if sensing it was unnaturally natural, and admired it like it was a work of art and not just some random tree in the woods. Her eyes were so pretty like that, twinkling with approval and faint recognition that Hashirama didn’t understand. He wanted to, though. He wanted to understand her.

And that thought surprised him.

She just sat by that tree, his tree, and opened a book. She looked so at peace in that place, very much like her in the clearing collecting herbs, and Hashirama settled himself in a comfortable branch above her. She didn’t seem to notice his presence, or maybe she did but didn’t care. Hashirama wasn’t even hiding it now.

Observing her reading in peace was doing wonders for his stressed mind and sooner or later, Hashirama found himself nearly falling asleep again. This time, though, he didn’t have to save himself from falling.

He stayed there for a while, watching her concentrate on her book and making sure no one and nothing was to disturb her. Hashirama left when he realized the sun was nearing the horizon and Tobirama would kill him if he realized Hashirama was slacking. He forgot that he was supposed to do some recon around the borders, which he was supposed to do but he got distracted when he saw the petal haired woman and had the urge to grow a tree.

Even though this was only a short vacation disguised as a mission, Hashirama won’t take his chances against his brother. That was something even he wouldn’t bet on.

The fourth time he saw the woman was in the clearing again, and this time Hashirama was actually willing and prepared to introduce himself, even thinking of a likely backstory to tell the woman as to how he stumbled upon her. He was prepared to be an acquaintance or, maybe, even a friend. That would be a happy thing.

Hashirama didn’t know why but there was just this pull she had towards him, it reminded him of a peaceful lull of a lullaby. Hashirama hasn’t had a proper sleep in ages.

He was ready to do all of the effort of befriending her, except she was surrounded by a group of children of varying ages. Hashirama could count two boys staying by her side, maybe around ages of seven or eight, talking her ears off while she had a younger one, maybe three or five winters old, in her arms. There were two older kids farther from where she sat under the tree, they were gathering flowers and plants much like how the woman was doing the first time Hashirama saw her.

And her smile.

Kami her smile, it was so soft and so- so motherly that something absolutely primal in Hashirama growled in approval.

Approval and dissent.

And for that short single, miserable moment something terrible hit him at the thought of those children being her children. It made Hashirama zoom in on their faces. In doing so, something akin to dread pooled in his gut when he saw green-like eyes on the first two kids Hashirama had noted and the two older children, both of which had brown hair, that were gathering herbs had the similar facial shape as she.

For the life of him, Hashirama couldn’t understand why his stomach curled at the thought. He could feel his lips twist into a frown. He didn’t understand, why was he like this?

She looked perfect among them, a mother in every sense of the word. A perfect mother with her soft smile and gentle eyes and a babe on her hip as she oversaw the other children playing around with the flowers and plants. Those thoughts made his frown deepen on his face.

Whoever had her was a lucky man, and Hashirama laughed at himself at his late realization. Kami, he was so pitiful . What has he been doing the past few days, unintentionally shadowing some taken woman?

He left earlier that day, when he determined that there weren’t dangerous animals or people within the forest that would harm the children or her. A village was nearby anyway, her home must be there, along with her husband. Her husband should’ve been there with them, with her . Without even meeting the man, Hashirama had already developed a disliking to him; however irrational it was.

When he arrived in his room, Hashirama realized. He had no idea what he was doing with himself. He left the village for a quick reprieve, without all that paperwork and clan heads breathing down his neck. Now? He was fussing over some random pretty woman he met in the forest.

This was how those scary legends began where a man, who was a fool, found a woman in a lake or something and got killed by said woman. No normal woman could be that pretty.

Tobirama had even agreed to take over for him for around a week and here he was, on the borders with a team he usually left behind, taking a stroll in the forest where he saw the woman. Thankfully, the small town he was staying at wasn’t the same place the woman was staying at because Hashirama never saw her in the town’s streets or market.

Honestly, Hashirama didn’t know if he was thankful or annoyed about that. Maybe both.

‘Or maybe,’ Hashirama thought. Maybe it was because she was so beautiful and her husband rarely let her out around the village. That was a stupid thought but he knew some men who do that. Hashirama could understand that but he hated it all the same.

He tried sleeping that night, and like all other nights, he failed.

The fifth time Hashirama saw her he just decided to wing it, he just wanted to be friends. That was what all this was about, being friends. After much thought, Hashirama remembered this feeling, this urge to get to know someone and give them love like a family. It was a similar feeling to when he saw Madara by the river and wanted to befriend the boy the moment their eyes met.

Madara looked like he wanted to be friends too, ignoring his grumpy ass aside.

So husband or not, Hashirama thought it didn’t matter. And if worse comes to worse, what could her husband do to him anyway? Civilian or shinobi, her husband would be no match for him and his status. Not that Hashirama would fight him, he wouldn’t do that. The woman might cry if he does.

When he saw her in the clearing, gathering herbs again, Hashirama thought to just greet her like a normal human being. Which he did, or had tried to.

He didn’t take into account how he forgot to increase the noise in his steps to warn her of his presence, instead Hashirama must’ve looked like he was stalking a prey with his steps. By the time he was directly behind her, he saw it too late the way she froze and tense.

She almost decked him straight in the face.

Thankfully, with his reflexes, he managed to dodge the harsh jab. The woman looked at him with wide eyes and Hashirama gave a friendly smile with his hands in the air, placating and showing her he had come in peace.

“Kami, you scared me!” She said with a yelp, her basket of herbs slipping from her hands and onto the forest floor. Hashirama winced at the ‘thud’ it made, the herbs were strewn across the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I was just going to say hi!” ‘Okay, smooth, Hashirama. Real smooth, damn it, I sounded like a weirdo!’ Hashirama inwardly wailed, when in actuality he kneeled and carefully scooped most of the herbs before placing them in the basket. He did it so fast, because he was embarrassed, and efficiently that the woman could only stand there with her face slacked.

“Uh, here,” Hashirama offered the basket, the herbs back in place, abashedly. With an awkward smile on his face, Hashirama apologized. He hoped his sincerity could be felt. Either that or he hoped that the ground would swallow him up now, like his clan’s doton techniques. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The woman eyed him, obviously and rightfully suspicious, before taking the basket of his hands. Hashirama thought he saw recognition in her eyes, like she knew him and for a brief moment he felt giddy before realizing she must’ve known him from the regular news, from the common news. He just established a village after all.

“Thank you. It’s fine. I was just surprised, is all.” Her voice, Hashirama decided, was one of the nicer things he appreciated in life. It was soft, but with a fierce undertone.

“Still, I’m sorry. Your basket got dirty because of me,” This was his chance, Hashirama thought, to spend time with the woman. Spend time getting to know her. That and Hashirama could already feel his body relaxing in her presence. He still didn’t understand why this happens but he’s learning to just accept it. She didn’t seem threatening to him and if she was, Hashirama's skills were nothing to scoff at.

Though that punch looked really well aimed for a civilian.

“It's not a problem, really, it’ll get dirty anyway.”

“You’re collecting medicinal herbs?” Hey eyes were surveying their surroundings. Hashirama couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at not being the sole focus of her attention because the way her eyes reflected the sunlight was a delight to look at.

“Yes,” She said with a bit of mirth and a small smile. “for my village. What brings you here?”

“Ah,” Hashirama recalled the mountain of paperwork never decreasing on his desk and the amount of people he had to coordinate. “-to rest. My brother thought it would be best for me to take a break in the peaceful town east from here.” Hashirama felt his hands get clammy, and stealthily wiped it against his dark pants. The woman’s eyes returned to him just as he willed himself to stop moving his hands like some silly child. He felt a bit lost on what to do.

Hashirama was also sorely tempted to squeeze the woman’s face, kami its heart shaped, but he willed his hands to stay at his side. Squeezing people’s faces was not a Hokage thing to do.

“And how’s that going for you?”

Hashirama remembered the naps he took on the branches near where they were. He remembered the tree he grew during his quiet meditation. He remembered the flower crown, and he gave her a grin.

“Great. This is the most relaxed I’ve been for a while. My name is Hashirama,” He paused and thought for a quick moment if he’s doing the right thing before continuing with mild hesitation. “Senju Hashirama.”

Something sparkled in her eyes when he said his name and Hashirama was certain it wasn’t because of the sun. The smile she gave him was a bit distracting though, so he let it go.

“Nice to meet you, Senju-san. You may call me Sakura.” ‘But is that your name?’ Hashirama wanted to ask but he kept his lips sealed and offered his hand instead.

“Sakura-san,” Hashirama tested the word on his lips and it tickled his tongue. “Nice to meet you as well. Please, just Hashirama.” She appeared to be aware of his clan, its reputations and its deeds. Yet, she too, kept her lips shut and shook his hand.

“If you say so, Hashirama-san. I-”

“If I may, Sakura-san,” Hashirama had no plans of letting the woman go out her day without him. “Can I be of help? I’m somewhat of a plant expert myself,”

For one quiet moment, Hashirama thought that she would outright reject him. What with how her lips pursed and her eyes looking at him as if she was looking at his soul, but then she smiled that smile she had when she was with her kids. It was a small, bitter victory but Hashirama took it.

“I’ll take your offer, Hashirama-san. I have a long list of things I need and such little time, I hope you won’t regret wasting time with me.” She said with a laugh at the end and Hashirama didn’t understand what was funny. Spending time with her would be wonderful, and peaceful that Hashirama had a slight fear that he might fall asleep on his face while helping her.

Instead Hashirama let out a small laugh of his own, “Never.”

With that, Sakura had listed and described to him what herbs she needed and what parts. She even tried to offer Hashirama a kunai, to which he was a bit shocked to learn she had one, telling him to use it to cut the plants before she realized what she was doing. Her face became tinted pink. She laughed with an embarrassed lilt before retracting the hand offering the kunai.

“Silly me, you’d have one of your own, right?”

Hashirama had laughed it off, but inwardly he was peeved. So her husband was a shinobi? That was an annoying thought. Was he a good shinobi? That was another annoying thought that wiggled in his brain. He ignored it.

“I do, thank you. So from what you said, pink flowers are most of what you need?”

“Yes. I’d like a few leaves too, if they look fresh. Few of the flowers grow around here and they’re scattered around the clearing so it's a bit taxing to get,” Sakura paused with a hum, and searched for something in her basket. She opened her palm to show Hashirama a pretty pink flower with a yellow center and it looked really familiar to him. Familiar like he’d always seen it in the corner of his eye everyday.

“See the petals are round and they have yellow stamen and pistils. Good ones are the blossoms that just bloomed, though it's ok if they’re fully opened. Those are good too, but please don’t take the ones with a bit of brown on the edges. Those aren’t good. Uhm, do you get it?”

All this time she was talking, Sakura only stared at the flower, but now her eyes were looking at him. Hashirama saw her hesitation in trusting him, the way her eyes wander away from his, and he’s going to fix that.

“I do, you explained it rather well. Simple and easy to understand.” Hashirama let the words sink in. Her face flushed at the phrase and not for the first time Hashirama felt something warm below his ribs. Or maybe it was his ribs.

“Or maybe you’re just a fast learner. Open your hand,” It was embarrassing how fast he followed her command and once his hands were opened out to her Sakura dropped the flower to his awaiting palm. “here, in case you forget.” She finished with a cheeky smile he had never seen before and Hashirama had to laugh at that. At least she wasn’t awkward with him.

“Right, I’ll do my best.” Maybe he said it too seriously because she stopped laughing and looked embarrassed instead.

“You don’t have to-”

“But I want to,” Hashirama interjected. ‘for you, my best.’ He wanted to say but instead he lifted the flower and continued, “for those who need this.” ‘For you, nothing less.’

That day Hashirama was right, she had looked happy in meeting him and getting to know each other. The moment spent in the clearing was a moment that made Hashirama dreamt soundly for the first time in a long time, even though they did nothing but talk and exchange jokes and stories. It was… comfortable. ‘Peace,’ His mind whispered. ‘She’s peace.’

The sixth time he heard her more than saw her when he was on his way to fish, out of leisure and not necessity. It came to a surprise to most people, that his hobby was in fact fishing and not just gardening. Fishing was one of his favorite ways to pass the time. Memories of skipping stones on the river brought a smile to his face.

How far they have come, Madara and he, with their dreams finally in their hands. It made Hashirama want to fly whenever he saw the village but the paperwork, oh the paperwork he just wanted to burn to the ground. Madara should have taken the damn mantle instead of him, but he too didn’t like being shackled to the seat.

He didn’t even have plans to see her that day, but somehow she kept popping up everyday since Hashirama arrived here. He was on his way to the river he found when he was exploring, it was a wide one with shallow waters near the edge and unexpectedly deep center. Good for fishing, he noted when he saw it.

However the sound of a familiar voice made him stop in his tracks. It didn’t even take a second to spot where she was. As much as she blended in with the forest, her hair was too bright for the earthy colors.

She was sitting on top of one of the larger rocks, a boulder really, at the river’s sides. Her legs dangling in the water and her hands on the boulder’s surface at her side, balancing her.

She was singing a particular melody that sounded lovely with her voice. It made him want to sing along if not for his lack of talent as well as not knowing the lyrics. It sounded foreign, but home and it was a weird thing to feel.

Completed with her small white yukata, she looked completely in place within all the nature yet at the same time otherworldly. He had half the mind to greet her, as a friend wanting to share the joys of the river, when a young man emerged from the waters and splashed her with a decent amount of water. She shrieked and kicked the waters towards the perpetrator. Laughter rang clearly between them as they splashed each other.

The smile slipped off his face. Hashirama stood there, just before the tree line, hidden in the shadows. This was the man? This was the lucky guy?

It was frustrating to see the same brown hair on this man. It was the same shade as those children’s hair were.

His throat was unbearably tight at the sight of the two, young and happy. ‘In love,’ Something in his mind spat.

The man just looked so… so unworthy next to her. He seemed to be the average, run in the mill civilian merchant, though his body was well built from working but not well built like a shinobi. Something ugly took root in Hashirama that day, and it confused him.

He never felt this heavy before, never felt the fire beneath his ribs like this. The warm, pleasant thing he felt just the day before in the clearing collecting flowers was nothing compared to the heat he felt that day by the river. The smile and laughter she directed at the young man did not help him at all. Hashirama never did get to fish.

He trudged back to the inn, half thinking to just pack up and leave with the team. Instead he opted to read one of the few books he brought in the privacy of his own room. The outside world sickened him for a while.

The seventh time Hashirama saw her, he literally bumped her. He was lost in thought about the negotiations between the village and the Uzumaki and Mito’s insistent demands that he never completely complied with. She was making hilarious demands and Hashirama knew she didn’t really mean it, more like she was testing his skills in leadership. To see if he actually had the mind to lead a village as large as Uzoshiogakure, if not more so. He was happy to have such a dedicated friend.

It was when he turned a corner and she crashed against his chest. He thanked Kami he decided to forego his usual red armor and opted for dark colored training garbs he wore underneath. Albeit, it was worrying how she got under his skin to the point her presence was not even deemed as a threat to his shinobi instincts.

“Are you okay?” Obviously, she didn’t immediately realize it was Hashirama she crashed into because her head snapped so fast to look at him that he was a bit worried if she got whiplash.

“Oh it’s you, Hashirama.” A small smile decorated her face and Hashirama couldn’t help but compare it to the smile she easily gave to that man in the river. That smile was brighter, wider, and a bit more genuine. This smile was like a gentle ray of the sun and not the utter radiance she showed yesterday.

Still, Hashirama relished in the recognition in her eyes.

“The one and only,” Hashirama plastered a smile of his own, to hide his current predicament and it was actually easy to do so whenever Sakura was near. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. Are you hurt anywhere?”

The woman shook her head, smoothing down her clothes. It was another simple, yukata. ‘She deserved better than that,’ Hashirama thought to himself. Those simple clothes did no justice to the picture she painted. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe her husband didn’t like to show her off. Maybe Hashirama should just snatch her away.

“I’m fine, sorry about that. My head was in the clouds,”

“Dangerous, Sakura-san. Though I can’t tell you off seeing that I was the same,”

“And you’re supposed to be a shinobi,” She teased. Hashirama just smiled at that, so she knew things about the job despite the man in the river looking nothing like the shinobi he was used to. Maybe it was a tactic to throw off enemies and Hashirama could admit it was terrifyingly convincing that he just labeled the man as a nondescript civilian. Still, that man looked so puny .

“Sakura-san,” Her face reddened at the way he said her name, Hashirama offered her a grin. So she liked having her name breathed out, that was cute. Did her husband do it often? “It was nice bumping into you, but I have a busy schedule today.”

He didn’t and it was terrible how fluidly the lie came out of his mouth. It was just honestly awful seeing her today when he still remembered the young man Sakura basically swam with. He didn’t like the feelings she made him go through.

“Oh,” She sounded a bit off, disappointed? Hashirama must be imagining things. “Take care then, Hashirama-san.”

“You as well, my friend.” The word stung on his tongue but the smile was nearly as radiant as the one she showed to that man so Hashirama just left with a small wave.

It was a bit rude and unusual for his behavior, that he could admit. He didn’t turn back, the dejected look on the woman’s face might drive him mad if he ever saw it. As it was, he only heard the minuscule disappointment in her voice as he turned away.

“Stay safe, my friend.”

The eighth time Hashirama didn’t even find her in the vicinity.

It was dinner time. Hashirama and his team decided to have dinner at the inn, since it was their last night there when Hashirama heard one of the best things ever two tables from where he sat. A group of old women were gossiping, evidently civilians with their clothing and mannerism.

“She’s such a nice girl, always helping out with Kagetsu-san’s work.” One said, her graying hair up in a traditional bun. His team were chattering with each other and Hashirama was in the midst of it when his ears caught the gossip.

“As noble as it is, it is so unappreciated. Have you heard about the cloth merchant issue?” Another one replied. She was wearing a faded yellow kimono, her hair was up in a ponytail. Hashirama didn’t really pay attention to it, but gossip was an interesting thing so he couldn’t help but eavesdropping.

“You mean the one who’s son got poisoned? Oh I heard all about it, threw up a hissy fit that did. Stormed right into Kagetsu’s clinic when just the days before he was scoffing at his work. Such a brat.” The last one scorned, and Hashirama had perked up at the mention of a clinic. Such things were rare these times and people usually go to family shrines to ask help from miko or monks.

“But at least you didn’t have to help that one out, Kikyo.”

“Thank Sakura for that, it was a hopeless case. What she did was a miracle, a miracle I tell you. What I can’t believe is why she’s still alone, without a husband. I mean, have you seen her with the kids? They love her, and worship the grounds she walked on.” Kikyo grumbled, she was the one with her hair in a low ponytail and Hashirama did notice that she was wearing traditional miko garbs but all Hashirama heard was Sakura and the fact that she’s still alone, and all he could think of was she was free. 

Free to do whatever she wanted, like spending time with him.

Or maybe even going back to his village.

Hashirama had difficult feelings at the possibility of her being taken but now, now it was as if Kami gave him a sign. He never felt so thankful before, not until now, not since the day Madara announced the name of their village, not since the day they united their clan and not since he saw Izuna walking side by side with Madara at that time.

“Bah, the merchant’s son was kissing down at her feet by the end of the week. I heard he proposed but I don’t see where that went, must’ve been rejected. What do you think, Fubuki?”

These changed things, he didn’t have to feel so bad anymore. He didn’t have to feel like he was stealing something that could have been his. Hashirama could to talk to Sakura and spend as much time as he wanted and that made his heart warm. Maybe convince her to visit his village.

“I think he wasn’t worthy to begin with. She’s better settling down with Kagetsu’s son, at least he has a nice personality whose face wasn’t made of money.” Fubuki had a really good point except that this ‘son’ of Kagetsu might not be worthy as well. None of them were. Who was worthy enough for a smile like hers?

“Hm, good point. I heard they went to the river the day before yesterday to ‘get rid of the heat’ they say. You think we’ll see more little children following her around?” Hashirama’s heart stopped at that, the son was that man in the river? No way, he looked like he couldn’t even lift a woman much less sweep Sakura off her feet.

“Ha! As nice as that would be, I don’t think Seijou has it in him to do that in public. Not everyone could be like you, Kaena,” The Kikyo woman commented and Hashirama agreed with her idea wholeheartedly.

“Oh hush you,”

Hashirama was so focused on hearing more about Sakura when one of his guards tapped on his right shoulder.

“Ah?” Was the only thing that came out of his mouth and Hashirama could smash his cup to his face at how undignified he sounded. Tobirama would have done it if he saw him.

“Hashirama-sama, I asked if you wanted more venison?”

“I’m good, how about giving it to Akimichi-san?”

The next time he saw her was during the last day of his stay in this humble village, who’s chieftain was apparently friends with Tobirama and it was no wonder seeing how calm and easy he let the previous Senju clan head stay in his lands.

“Four hours, Hashirama-sama, to tie up loose ends.” The Yamanaka on his team said, pale blue eyes staring at him like his brother would and it was so uncannily similar that Hashirama would believe it if Inozuku said he was channeling Tobirama through some magic and his kekkai genkai. Hashirama had a hunch that this Yamanaka knew of his secret rendezvous with the pinkette, even the ones where Sakura didn’t even know that he was there, but seeing as he wasn't specifically mentioning it meant that he didn't care or he wanted to keep his head. Smart man, like the Nara on his team who decided not to comment.

Four hours left wasn’t much and Hashirama bit back the curses threatening to spill from his mouth at the unfairness of it all. He wanted to stay longer but his captain was stubborn and utterly loyal to Tobirama. So he scourged the forest to look for her and the nearby villages with his clones.

Of course he found her by the river, the last place he went to because he dreaded the memories that followed it.

“Sakura-san!” Okay, that sounded way too excited and Hashirama had to plant his feet to the ground to stop himself from outright running to her. She was seated on top of the same rock he saw her on a few days ago but this time there was no annoying civilian man splashing her with water. She turned to him at his call and Hashirama smiled right back at her.

“Hashirama-san,” She patted the spot beside her and Hashirama slid down to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“Just enjoying the last hours of my stay,” She raised an eyebrow at him, her hands holding a single, fairly large leaf that Hashirama was curious about.

“Going so soon?” She teased, a small smile on her face. Hashirama nodded, they weren’t close, possibly something akin to friends and acquaintances. It shouldn’t matter to her that he was leaving but it did. Hashirama could see it in the way her shoulders sagged a little and he knew the fact that she tended to joke around when things got sad.

Like the first time they met and they talked about family. She joked a lot during that conversation and Hashirama just changed the topic.

“Oh you know, duties and all that.” She laughed at his reply and this cemented his guess that she knew who he was, a gist of his responsibilities and his duties. His title, she knew it. She knew the prestige and the things he worked hard for yet she treated him like some normal civilian. It made Hashirama take a peek at what could’ve been if he wasn’t born as a Senju or as a shinobi.

He liked the peace he felt when he was with her.

“Don’t overwork yourself too much.” She paused, she tried to touch the surface of the river with her dangling feet. She did and Hashirama would believe it if she could walk on this body of water like land with how light and steady her feet looked against the stream. “If you do, you should make tsubaki tea. Do you remember the flowers we picked?”

How could he forget that? It was nearly the same color of her hair, a bit darker shade.

“Of course,” Hashirama answered, taking off his sandals and putting them aside so that he could feel the water too. He might not have the same affinity nor liking to it like his brother but Hashirama appreciated the life it brought and the way it soothed his skin.

“I forgot to tell you it was called tsubaki, those flowers. My mentor taught me how to brew it into tea, it really calms the brain and helps you sleep. You should try it, it’s helpful.” ‘As helpful as you?’ Hashirama had wanted to ask. 

He still didn’t understand the why’s and how’s but those weren’t really important right now. The fact was, he hadn’t had a goodnight sleep in ages and yet here he was. He never felt so comfortable under his skin before and the energy thrumming in his bones was something he lost after the wars stopped and the more grueling, excruciating work started. The work of making alliances and creating peace.

Instead Hashirama splashed her feet a little with a kick of his own and replied.

“Teach me how to make it then,” She looked annoyed at him when the edges of her yukata got wet but Hashirama knew she didn’t mean it. That man had splashed her thoroughly back then, yukata and all. Hashirama wanted to do it too, wanted to have fun with her without thinking about the consequences.

She kicked the water to him and Hashirama was just glad to think of rolling up his pants.

“Hey, your splash was bigger .” She defended when Hashirama was wiping off the water from his face.

“No it wasn’t ,” He countered, pulling his hair back so that it wouldn’t get in the way. He hated it when his hair got partially wet, it was such a drag. “Look at me, my face is wet.”

“Fine,” She looked sorry at least, before taking out a white cloth from her yukata, “Here, use it.”

Hashirama took it, a teasing smile on his lips that Sakura rolled her eyes at. “Thanks,” ‘Thanks for agreeing to be my friend, for being here, for bringing me peace,’

At least she was getting comfortable with him, despite the short amount of time they spent together.

“So about the tea…” She trailed off and Hashirama was already done wiping his face so he could look at her.

“Tell me about it.”

And she did tell him about it, along with so many more things about her that he didn’t know before. She told him to dry the leaves first, then brew it in water like any other tea. She told him about how she was a healer, someone like an apothecary, who traveled around. 

She liked the tea because the plant was abundant across the fire country. She used the leaves for the tea while she dried the flowers and sometimes put them in the drink when she wanted something fragrant.

She told him about the villages she visited, about how she was actually a nomad and Hashirama had happily shared stories with her about the days when his family were nomadic themselves.

“One time, one of the sheep my family herded mistook my brother’s hair as grass. It was winter back then and my brother’s hair blended right in, his face was hilarious and that poor animal nearly got stabbed.”

They told each others’ favorite food when the topic came up and it was just fitting to know she loved seafood because Hashirama was great at fishing. She laughed when he told her this before telling him,

“I’ll get free food from you then.”

Sakura in turn told him about her hobbies were reading books and sometimes cooking or gardening.

“These things don’t really have to make me think, so it relaxes me when I do them.” She said and Hashirama could relate, that was what fishing was to him.

She told him about her dream, a noble dream about teaching the poor and the oblivious about how to help themselves whether through healing or some survival training. She told him how she traveled alone, because it was easier and she didn’t have the money to hire guards who could backstab her, which was a terrifying thing to learn.

“I know how to protect myself,” She said it so confidently that Hashirama had trouble not believing her when she said it. “and others.”

In turn he told her about his dream and his friend’s dream which was one in the same. He told her about how they achieved it and now that he had, he found himself starting to dream about new things though in reality he hasn’t been sleeping well.

“Peace, that was something I wished for as a child.” She glanced at him, her eyes solemn and darker than what he was used to, her eyes told him she could relate to that and he didn’t doubt it. War was abundant across the country throughout their childhood years. “Now, I wish children of this time and future time don’t have to wish that because they’d already have it.”

“I wish for it too,” She said. “It’ll happen one day and maybe it won’t last but it’ll happen again when it ends. It’ll happen while we’re here and when we’re gone.” Hashirama had thought the way the sunlight hit her eyes was pretty but the fire that burned in them when she said it was nothing like he’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” Was all he could say but to her it seemed enough because she just nodded back with a smile.

When the time came where they ran out of things to say, they just basked in the comfortable quietness between them. Before he knew it, three hours had come and gone.

“How long will you stay here?” He’s been wanting to ask it for a while now, if she was a nomad then maybe she could settle like how his clan settled. Preferably somewhere near him because her presence was a delight to have.

“Hm, maybe one more week. I’ve been teaching some of the villagers how to treat common ailments.” She laughed before telling him. “I’ve been here for nearly half a year, it’s the fifth village I’ve taught.” That was already a lot for some her age, and her dream was such a difficult thing to do and they both know she wouldn’t achieve it in her lifetime. Or maybe she will because look at him, people thought his dream was impossible yet look at his home now.

“Do you want to come with me?” He blurted it out and Hashirama cursed his mouth for the mess up. Sakura looked at him like he was a child and Hashirama inwardly groaned at the thought. That was not the image he was going for.

“To where?” She replied.

“My village,” He said with pride. He didn’t see the sad look that glossed over her eyes for a quick second. “Konohagakure no Sato. You’ll love it there, the children will love you as well. We don’t have many herbalists and none of them are as knowledgeable as you.”

“Ah,” This time Hashirama already saw the rejection the moment she hesitated. She never hesitated. “Maybe next time.” 

“Okay,” He agreed but inside he didn’t understand. His village was a good place. A place where people would get along, a place where people look out for each other. He thought she’d love it. “next time.”

“Where did you learn to fish?” It was a pathetic attempt to change the topic but Hashirama let her move the conversation away from his home. It was okay, she had her story, her secrets. She must’ve had a run in with one of his people, or maybe she must’ve met an Uchiha who rubbed her the wrong way. Hashirama could imagine that. If worse came to worse, she met his brother and Hashirama would say it to anyone that his brother was a kind man but an asshole nevertheless.

“My mother, she loved fishing. Her father used to be a fisherman before becoming a merchant.” Hashirama told her about his first failed attempts at fishing and how his mother was always supportive of him. All the while his thoughts were swirling around the possibilities of why she sounded so apprehensive when the topic of his home came to.

‘No not apprehensive,’ His mind supplied him, as Sakura talked to him about a friend she knew who had a penchant for weapons and who wanted to become a weapons merchant after her shinobi career. ‘Distressed. She’s regretting something.’

Then she told him about her other friends, one with eyes so blue like the sky and the other with hair like gentle thunderclouds. ‘Or someone.’ Hashirama thought, not liking the idea.

He didn’t like how her eyes got misty when she talked about them, she never told him the names and he never asked because he didn’t want to know names of the dead.

“Ah, I can’t see them anymore.” Hashirama heard the ‘but I wish I could’ there and he wanted to tell her it was fine when it wasn’t and Hashirama wasn’t one to talk. He could still hear Itama and Kawarama sometimes when he closed his eyes.

“I’m here,” Hashirama didn’t think they were close enough for a hug yet so he placed a hand on hers instead, ignoring how his face warmed at the fact that they were touching .

“Thank you,” Her eyes were still misty but her smile was as bright as it was earlier so Hashirama thought it’ll be fine. For now, he wouldn’t dredge up unwanted memories. For now, he’ll let her be.

When he only had ten minutes left, Hashirama was readying himself to try and convince her one more time to maybe just visit his village. He’ll make her stay comfortable and make her think that his village was the best village she’d visited yet. That and he was preparing himself for the inevitable goodbye.

“You should go,” He was startled to hear her voice after they were being so quiet that he almost fell forward into the water if not for his reflexes. It made him remember the first time he saw her and the embarrassing moment where he nearly fell of a tree.

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at me for quite a while now,” She smiled at his embarrassed choking noise. “You’ve been thinking of how to say goodbye.”

A moment of quiet and Hashirama just gained the confidence to ask her again.

“Come with me,” This time when his hand found hers he didn’t let go and she looked at their connected arms before looking at him in the eye with the same miserable gleam it had when he had first asked.

“Next time,” She replied, and Hashirama just took comfort in the fact that she did not move her hand. She didn’t grab him like he had to her but she didn’t let go either. “Safe travels, Hashirama-san.”

“Hashirama,” He started, his eyes leaving hers to look at their hands. “Just call me Hashirama, Sakura.” He let go of the prefix and her hand, looking at her eyes to see if she would reject him.

Sad as she looked, there was happiness and relief in her eyes and Hashirama took comfort in that too. He never thought he would be rejected this way before. This painful yet loving way. This memorable yet unbearable way. Being rejected has never not hurt him but it has never hurt this hard before.

“Hashirama,” She said and Hashirama had to look away and grab his sandals so that he wouldn’t see that look in her eyes telling him goodbye like it was the last time they’d see each other. That was a horrible joke because later, when the village is running on its own under Tobirama or maybe Madara’s hands, later he’ll find her. Maybe they could hang around like this again. “You take care of yourself, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” He answered, pulling down the edges of his pants.

“Drink tea regularly but not too often, it’ll upset your stomach.”

“Okay,” Hashirama replied as he stood up on the stone they sat on. “I’ll see you later, Sakura.” ‘This is not goodbye,’ He wanted to say, and like all of the things he wanted to say he didn’t. He’ll look for her after this, after his dream of peace was fully in his hands.

“Yeah,” She stood up with all of the grace of a nymph she appeared to be. “see you later.”

She looked conflicted as she stood there, Hashirama wanted to believe she wanted to hug him but maybe that was just him thinking of ridiculous things. She actually wanted to do just that but she didn’t have the courage to do it. Hashirama didn’t want to bet on it, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he hugged her and she pushed him away.

He didn’t know if she understood his unsaid words but with one last stare and a grin, Hashirama took off. He didn’t look back because if he did he might just follow through his urge to carry the woman all the way to Konoha.

He didn’t see the sad look of regret on her face.

He had two minutes left to get to the village gates. His team is waiting for him to start their journey home. He’s not as fast as Tobirama but his speed was nothing to scoff at.

‘Oh well,’ Hashirama thought as he jumped from tree to tree, his heart beating fast. ‘I’ll just have to find her again.’

Chapter Text

Wherever the lamb goes, wolf will follow.

“I think,” His voice was deceptively calm, despite the whirlwind taking up shop in his mind. “this has gone far enough. You’re dismissed.”

The merchant was quick to leave with a fumbling ‘yes, Hokage-sama, glad to be of service’ from his lips. The wooden doors of his office closed with a small click, indicating that the privacy seals that he and Tobirama came up with were working.

For a minute, Hashirama wondered if he was a tad too harsh on the other man. He was only doing his job as an informant after all. That merchant probably didn’t even understood what Hashirama said, or why their usually cheery Shodaime was in a terrible mood.

Briefly, Hashirama dwelled on the question of what would have happened if he hadn’t met Sakura that day in the forest.

He couldn't even bring himself to regret.

Maybe he should stop himself, right now, while he wasn’t that much invested yet. He should stop himself now while he still thought about stopping because sooner or later she’ll pass by and be in one of the nearby villages for her monthly checkins and Hashirama would lose his goddamn mind if he didn’t see her while she was so close.

It was horrible, what he was feeling. Like a cold hand curled deep within the cavity of his chest and pulled him until he was physically near her orbit. It started that day, when he first saw her and he had laid down on that tree branch.

Now that he was thinking clearly, or as clearly as he can, he found it weird to have felt the need to hover over the woman. He never anything like this before. This incessant tug beneath his ribs was an annoying thing and Hashirama felt like he understood what Tobirama had to put up with whenever he was bothering with him.

It was like something part of him, new yet ancient, told him to keep his eyes on the girl, because something was off about her. It was that ancient part of him that helped him grew trees, that helped him heal in his battles.

It was something beyond his instincts and Hashirama had no idea what to do with that.

At first, he found himself warm to be thinking of her. To be thinking of her smiles and laughs and how great it would be for her to drop by somewhere close Konoha. The first month since their meeting, since the fates practically threw him to her mercy, Hashirama had delved into a wonderfully stressful habit.

Habit of dreaming too much, of sleeping too less.

He had improved, Tobirama even pointed it out to him. The grey clouds over his head were gone only to be replaced by an earthquake he was still trying to get over with. He was doing his work diligently, not skipping to ‘play’ with other clan members or bothering Madara for a spar. He kept up with his council meetings, still as cheerful as before when interacting with his people because there were enough stoic people in the village and Hashirama didn’t want to be another one with a stick up his ass.

Honestly, Hashirama only worked hard so that when the time came, he had enough of free time to leave the seat without flooding himself with unwanted but needed paperwork when he returned. Meaning, he did it so that when Sakura was nearby, maybe a village or two from his own, Hashirama could sneak away and keep her company. Even if it was only for two hours or less. Then Hashirama would be back in his seat before Tobirama could even wonder why he was gone, or track him down.

Hashirama could count the number of their meetings on both of his hands plus one more, and even then five out of fourteen had been when Sakura didn’t even know he was there. He had only met her five times after his forced vacation in that little unknown village but that didn’t seem to stop himself from thinking of Sakura whenever the world reminded him of her.

Every time he had a second to himself, his mind somehow wandered around with thoughts concerning a pink haired woman. It was worrying, really, how the woman had taken root in his mind and in his being. Peace, the thought came as easily as air every time he breathed. It was all he ever dreamed about, as a child and now. It was what most people he knew dreamt about.

Hashirama had wished for peace for his family, for his friend, for the family of his friend, and many more. He was so distracted to find peace for his people he forgot to find peace for himself.

He contented himself in finding peace in other people’s peace, but that wasn’t how it worked.

True peace is all up to the individual, and Hashirama had never been his own individual. During the wars, he was the heir, the pride of his clan, always in the front lines. Some time before it’s ending when his father was lost to the war their ancestors started, he became the Clan Head. Hashirama was the leader, the one who had to sent children to the battlefield.

Hashirama had only ever sent four squads compromised with children but that was already four squads too many.

He worked fast for the alliance after those pointless massacres, of the single funeral held for twelve children unidentifiable because of the fire that burnt them. Uchiha, Uchiha, monsters. It was ugly, that battle of kids no older than ten winters.

Senju were burnt by katon, Uchiha were buried alive by doton. He heard the horrifically similar mass funeral held by the Uchiha, from Madara’s mouth himself. Hashirama didn’t know which was worse, to have burnt bodies to bury or to have no bodies to bury at all because they were already buried.

Now he was Hokage with his dream near the palm of his hand, if not already. His people called him God but they were wrong. 

He found something with mild semblance to peace for his people, for his brother, for his friends. Now Hashirama wanted peace for himself.

And peace, he had come to learn that one miracle and hell of a week, was something that flooded him whenever the pink haired woman was near. Literally or figuratively speaking.

Hashirama groaned before slumping into his chair. Everything was getting so infuriating recently. Most probably because he’s been hauled up in his office doing paperwork left and right for so long that he’s getting restless. He’s getting put off by the smallest of things, he’d noticed. It wasn’t like him.

His people were taking notice of it too.

Usually when he gets restless, he’d take a walk around the village he had painstakingly worked hard to build from scratch. Of course, he had help from his family and friends to build this home. Tobirama called it 'shirking his duties' but Hashirama found it was also his duty to see the daily lives of his people. It usually calmed him to see the things he scarificed a lot for, because he was reminded everything was worth this.

He would see his people bustling about with things to do. He saw a young Hyuga help an elderly woman carry her load yesterday. An old Nara was playing shogi with another old man, both looking to be civilians. The Akimichi were milling about the food sector, dotted with a Yamanaka here and there helping their ally clan out to prepare food for the general populace. He heard an Inuzuka woman laugh rambunctiously at a deadpanned joke told by her Aburame counterpart. He saw an Uchiha bicker with an Uzumaki and that was an unlikely pair that Hashirama had to pause to see if he saw it correctly.

Hashirama never thought the Uchiha to allow themselves act freely like that before, despite being friends with one.

Sadly it wasn’t a common sight and most Uchiha were more like a walking puppet, all grace and beauty and emotion of a dead wood.

Hashirama saw the budding alliances with the clans, with the civilians, and he nearly smiled when he saw a gaggle of children from different families creating havoc at the safe training grounds. He didn’t, couldn’t because there was that nagging question wriggling in his head that wouldn’t go away.

All that he saw made him feel bitter at the fact that Sakura had rejected his offer three times. Rejected him three times.

She rejected his home, the one he built for peace, and whenever he saw the laughing children on the street or the smiling couples walking hand in hand Hashirama couldn’t understand. Even clans who had once waged war against another were trying to move forward here. He couldn’t understand what could possibly made her afraid. Hashirama wanted to know who made her that way.

“Next time, Hashirama.” It hurt him the second time when he asked and she changed the topic just like the first time he had asked when he left her by the river.

The third time he’d asked her to visit and she said no in her own indirect way, Hashirama had asked why. She never answered him, never even looked him in the eye the rest of the time they were together in that quaint tea shop. He thought that would be the end of their shallow friendship and Hashirama had to laugh off his question, hoping to return some sense of comfortability in their atmosphere.

He didn’t want to scare her but he was at his wit’s end why she kept running around all over Fire country when she all but avoided Konoha in its growing, peaceful state.

It was as if she was running away with all her moving and Hashirama wanted, so badly, to know what made her do so.

Hashirama sorely wanted her to be behind his village walls. Just once. Once was enough to show her how great Konoha was, how kind his people were, how stunning it was to look at this mishmash groups of people blending together struggling to find peace with each other after decades, centuries of wars against one another for reasons long forgotten. Hashirama wanted to show her how breathtaking it was to see people heal themselves and help others heal as well.

And maybe by seeing it, Sakura would be healed too. Maybe by seeing it would alleviate some of her problems.

Back then, their conversation trickled back in like water from a broken teacup. There was something heavy in the air and Hashirama didn’t had a single clue why she was so jittery when he told her stories of Konoha. Not when it was obvious she was so damn happy every time Hashirama told her of its growth, of its people, of the children laughing and the people smiling.

Hashirama didn’t understand why she was so against in visiting Konoha when he told her stories of it and her eyes would get this awful wistful look that obviously meant she wanted to be in it, be in his home but she was afraid of something, or someone.

“I’m sorry.” She said to him before he left and with that sad smile of hers he absolutely detested. Hashirama had smiled back but he didn’t feel it in him to reply. He might say something he’d regret.

That was the last time he saw her and now, now he just received news of the wandering pink haired miracle worker spotted among the desert dunes of the burgeoning village that was Sunagakure.

Hashirama wanted to grow a forest in the unfairness of it all. It itched beneath his fingers, the thrumming energy flowing in his veins wanting to act on his chaotic emotions.

He was really tempted to grow a forest on the borders of the Wind country just for spite when the rational side of him, the side that was the Senju Clan head, the side that helped him send those four squads of children to the battlefield, the side that Tobirama preferred he used during official meetings, told him he was an idiot for even considering it.

Not for the first time, Hashirama thought that yeah. He was an idiot for daydreaming about petal hair and forest eyes in his home.

“How was Suna?” That wasn’t how Hashirama imagined himself bringing it up but his mouth had moved before he could even properly think. He’d been doing that a lot less lately.

They were in one of the villages that was near Konoha’s borders, it took Hashirama around two hours slower than normal to arrive because of his torn thoughts. He was excited to meet her after so long, at the same time he’s dreading to meet her because she chose those sand people over his forest. A very small part of him thought of not seeing her at all. In the end he switched between walking and just plain running when he thought of the possibility of her leaving again.

It didn’t last long when his chest started to ache and he overheard some of the newcomers’ talk about a nice pink haired woman two towns over.

“… It was okay.” Sakura said after awhile, her hand twirling her tea. Hashirama hummed, he didn’t know which was worse. The fact that she actually answered him and didn’t change the topic or the fact that said her time there was just okay. She shouldn’t have to settle with just an okay.

“Really? I’ve been wanting to visit for awhile, Tobi wouldn’t let me.” He asked. He wasn’t letting this go. No matter how much she looked at him with those adorable eyes of her. He needed to know why she refused him, it didn’t matter that she never said no explicitly because she never said yes either which was as good as no for him and for her.

Sakura gave him a small smile and Hashirama didn’t have the heart to not smile back. “Yes, the people were harsh yet very kind.”

“What made you travel there?” ‘What do they have that I don’t?’ Hashirama thought, not once looking away from Sakura’s eyes as she looked glanced around the tea shop. Her eyes were really stunning, a green color Hashirama wasn’t used to see inside a human. He usually saw it above him whenever he trekked in the forest, the color of brilliant canopies filtering daylight.

“A friend of mine asked for a favor. Something made their live stock sick, mostly the young ones and you know how important that was to their people.” Ah yes, since they chose to live in the middle of a fucking desert, living animals were few in between and therefore were absolutely precious to Suna people. Hashirama wanted to know exactly who this ‘friend’ of hers was but he didn’t want to come as overbearing. He also didn’t want their rare meetings to end as awkward and bitter as the last time, when he wanted to know why she wouldn’t visit his village.

Oh how badly he wanted to ask her, to make her confess but Hashirama didn’t want to see her eyes get that horrible glazed look. The look of lost. That was something he never wanted to see, it made him feel things he wasn’t prepared to feel.

“You can heal animals as well?” The mirth was back in her eyes, her hesitation gone and Hashirama marveled at how visible her change of mood was. Did she know? Did she know how obvious it was that she wore her heart on her sleeves? How pretty she was because of it? Probably not.

“Of course. I had to start practicing somewhere,” She paused, tucking one of the free strands of her hair behind her ear. Her hair was in a bun today, a simple one and Hashirama wanted to tear it down just to see her hair flow freely again. “You remind me of someone, actually. She liked fishing as well, it was a favorite hobby of hers with her grandfather apparently.”

The way her eyes sparkled made him think there was a joke there somewhere but Hashirama didn’t know. He wanted to, though, but asking questions was a dangerous thing.

“I practiced my skills by injuring and healing the fishes she caught.”

Hashirama was just grateful it wasn’t a man. He chuckled, eyes never once leaving her form. “She must be very charming then,”

“She really was,” She looked at him but Hashirama had a feeling she wasn’t really seeing him. That irked him.

“Can I hear about this new miracle of yours?” He said with a small laugh, it had become a joke between them. Honestly, Hashirama wasn’t kidding when he said it the first time around. Whatever problem she fixed where usually hopeless cases, people ended up revering her as a miracle worker.

There was a reason why villages were so open to welcome her in, they wanted the miracle worker to do her work in their lands too.

Hashirama wanted her in his home for different reasons.

She snorted at his attempt of a joke and Hashirama grinned, it was one of his goofy ones that Tobirama didn’t like but Toka told him it made him look handsome. “Its really nothing much, it wasn’t even an actual disease. If it were, then it would have been a lot more worrisome.”

“Then what was it?” Hashirama poured more tea into her cup when he saw it was nearing empty. He poured some into his own as well. She chose ginger tea this time, good for his body she said.

His face had warmed when he realized she cared and thought of him. Did she thought of him when she travelled to Suna? Did she think of his offers when she was on their treeless lands? Did she thought of him as he thought of her? The tea didn’t answer him so Hashirama drank it.

“Poison,” She grimaced.

Hashirama winced, now that wasn’t a pretty thing. “Someone would poison their own?”

A second later he realized how stupid of a question that was. They were shinobi. Loyal as they were, there were bound to be traitors and spies in their midst. They were not samurai, not bound to some noble duty.

Sakura shook her head, sipping a bit of her tea before answering him. “Not actually. I thought of it too, but all of the people were worried. People rarely come to Suna and if they do they rarely get accepted. People who come and go were merchants. It was a tight knit community. Besides, the poison was a natural one. It was from metal poisoning, the well they were using to hydrate the animals was old. Recent earthquakes, messed up the well’s inner walls and exposed the water to metals. Lead, zinc, some copper.” She listed off.

“The metals contaminated the water and it must’ve accumulated in the young animals’ bodies, which would be fatal. Wind country rarely gets diagnosed with metal poisons, they don’t use it when they have the natural venom of reptiles and other devilish creatures on their lands.” Hashirama concluded, understanding the situation now. Of course the Suna people would not know how to cure metal poisons, they never had the need to before. The only poison they were familiar of were those from plants and venomous creatures that were abundant in their lands.

This would be a turning point, no doubt their people would research more about metal poisonings now. They were already terrifying with their current knowledge and Tobirama would love this tidbit of information. 

Of course, Suna would want no one else but the miracle worker to give them aid. They were prickly, prideful people. Just like the cacti that lived on their lands. Hashirama had learned as much from the last summit meeting. They wouldn’t want anything less than Sakura, not when she was so ready to help people in need.

“You’re really smart, Hashirama.” She hid her smile behind her cup but Hashirama saw it anyway. He could feel the tip of his ears burn at her compliment, he prayed that Sakura didn’t see it. That would not make him look cool. Not at all. It wasn’t rare for her to compliment him per se but she just said it so honestly every time that it really throws him off. His own father never complimented him the way she did.

“I’m Hokage, you know?”

She rolled her eyes at him, willing the laugh to not leave her mouth. Hashirama could see it, the way she clamped her lips shut.

“Yes, yes, Hokage-sama,” She teased and Hashirama couldn’t help but beam with pride at the title, even though no one in their right minds would mock him like that. Unless they were his brother or Madara.

He named the title himself and wasn’t it fitting? The Will of Fire was found in the people and without the people there would be no fire, no shadow, without the people there would be no Konohagakure. When he first told her of his position, she had looked pleased with him and Hashirama couldn’t help the confidence he gained from her proud smile. That was two months ago and their third time meeting after his vacation.

‘This was his chance,’ He thought. Maybe now was the time to ask her again. Staring at her eyes, Hashirama let himself be lost to the forest within. She looked back at him, this time seeing him and not some ghost that he reminded her of. Hashirama smiled a smile he was told that ladies often liked. A soft smile, a gentle one.

“How about visiting my village this time around, Sakura?”

Just like he expected, the woman immediately redirected her gaze away from his but Hashirama didn’t look away. There was no time to look away, this would probably be the last time he’ll see her in awhile because news of her aid in Suna were sure to spread like wildfire across the continent and people would be vying for her attention. A part of him told him to just knock her out and carry her home.

It was really appalling how tempting that part of him sounded.

She hummed while looking at her tea, Hashirama politely took a drink from his own to let her buy time for herself. They’ve been acquaintances for over five months now, autumn was nearing. They’ve met a couple of times, once a month the past months and he knew how peculiar these meetings must look like. The Hokage having tea with a wandering healer in a nondescript town. People don’t seem to mind, most likely because both of them were revered as important people in their own right. That or maybe they don’t know him nor her. Hashirama preferred the latter.

“Next time, Hashirama.” Those words and the sorry look on her face were the exact replica of her previous answers to the same question. Hashirama felt his palms bleed underneath the table, his nails biting in too hard. It would be cruel if she knew just how much those words hurt and still chose to say it repetitively.

Hashirama laughed. He was expecting this of course, she said it more than three times now. Her rejection couldn’t be more clearer yet he always asked. He always raised his hopes up that maybe she’d settle down if it was him that asked but it wasn’t.

He raised his hopes up when he thought that maybe she could be fair and visit his village too, without the need of incurring a favor for a friend. Were they even friends? Hashirama liked to think so.

‘Why is it always ‘next time’ with you? Are you not curious about me, like I am with you?’ “Next time, then.” Hashirama answered, calm and not jovial like usual. 

' What if there was no 'next time'?' The horrible thought came to him like always. In truth, he was afraid that one day he would hear the news of a poor beautiful young woman dying somewhere in the country and it would be her. He was afraid whenever she left his sight, that would be the last time he would see her.

Just like Itama, when Hashirama lost sight of him in a battle. Just like Kawarama, when he went to a different battle Hashirama wasn't present in. Just like his mother, when Hashirama was too busy in the frontline that accompanying his mother to the capital was deemed irrelevant by their father.

Uncomfortable silence flooded their table.

He wondered if Sakura felt the same pull he felt whenever he thought of her. No two people could connect this fast, this easily. Or maybe they do and its just Hashirama’s first time. Actually, second time. The first time he truly connected with another person that wasn’t his family was Madara, and that person became his closest friend.

Hashirama wished she felt the same ache he felt underneath his ribs.

“So, do they really eat gizzards?” This time it was he who wanted to change the conversation. It was apparent that she was having trouble of his reaction and its lack of enthusiasm.

It was good. It meant she was worried. It meant she knew he was hurt by what she said and Hashirama viciously hoped she could feel what he felt from her words.

It meant he weighed something in her heart and he hoped it was heavy.

Sakura finally looked at him and she obviously did not like his faux smile. She didn’t comment on it, despite looking like she wanted to, and Hashirama expected as much. They were both cowards today.

It was her fault. If only she just agreed to go to Konoha then this storm in his lungs wouldn’t have happened. She replied, her voice teasing, trying to lessen the tense atmosphere. “Sadly, that was not a myth.”

“You’ve tasted it?”

“Actually tastes good if you get past the texture. Tastes like chicken,”

“It came from a chicken, Sakura. Kinda expected for it to taste like that.”

“Oh shush, you.” Hashirama wondered if this was okay, if he would be okay with this thing between them to remain as something like this. He’d always asked himself if he would be content to just have her like a passing wind, a short moment there then another moment gone.

When she hid another smile behind her cup, this one sadder than others, Hashirama realized.

‘I’ll never be okay with this.’

‘Stop smiling like that,’ Hashirama had to bite his cheeks to stop himself from saying something stupid. ‘When you smile like that, I get nervous.’

“Hashirama, what do you think?” Sakura turned to him, eyes wide and reflecting the lantern lights. They were settled at the side of the festive streets, sitting on a wooden bench that proved to be smaller than he thought. There were few to no people around them, since they were barely at the edge of the festival. For the first time of the day, Hashirama felt comfortable in this quiet moment. He was so close to her that their shoulders were touching. He could just lean and turn his head-

“Hashirama?”

Honestly, he wasn’t listening at all. He was too immersed in his thoughts and the relief that the inter-village summit went off without a hitch. It was too good to be true and a part of Hashirama was just waiting for something to blow up on his face. Things became even better when he saw Sakura’s petal hair among the bustling citizens enjoying the festival. Hashirama, being the genius he was, was only able to say, “Hm?”

The annoyed look directed his way was adorable as well but at least it wasn’t as distracting as her smile.

“Maybe you should head back to your lodgings and call it a night. It must be exhausting to be with this tiresome lady,” She grumbled and took a bite from her dango. Hashirama had to look away, her grumpy face was adorable too. He drank his tea to help him calm down. It was true he was a bit high strung as of the moment. It wasn’t only because of the negotiations for alliances though, rather it was the fact that Hashirama had spotted this woman in the festival celebrating the success of their inter-village alliances and summit.

Hashirama had smiled through enough shit from the rude Raikage and the less than stellar Kazekage. He still held a grudge for being able to have Sakura visit Suna first before even visiting his. Of course, when Hashirama saw her nearly a mile away buying dango sticks, he seized his chance to spend time with her and immediately left Madara with a wooden clone before walking straight to Sakura and pulled her into a conversation.

His disguise was still in play with his hair up in a messy bun and a navy blue yukata. He looked like a young emerging samurai just like his raven haired friend, who had the same disguise in mind. Madara didn’t seem to care about where he was, seemingly relieved to be without Hashirama’s talkative presence.

Sakura knew it was him as soon as he opened his mouth and Hashirama didn’t know how to feel about that. It had been awhile since they last saw each other. ‘Its been nine months since I first saw her,’

“Honestly, I’m tired.”

“Then why are you here?” She asked, worry in her grumpy voice. She didn't look at him.

“I wanted to have fun, the festival looks fun. It’s fun here,” Hashirama glanced at her. “Being with you is fun.”

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, obviously thinking he was fooling around when he was being honest. “Then you were listening to what I just said, right? Since,” She smiled and damn that smile did she really have to lean to his side? “being with me is fun, right?”

She was pressing at his side and Hashirama could smell the sake in her breath, no wonder she was being so bold. He could feel his face beginning to warm and Hashirama cursed his pathetic bodily reactions. ‘Why am I like this?’

It didn’t even take a few seconds before he was fessing up. He just became so relaxed the moment they sat down his mind went to sleep mode while looking at her bubbly face.

“Okay, I was really listening to you at first but-”

Sakura laughed at him before patting his back, “I know, I know. I was just joking. You should’ve seen your face, Hashirama.”

It took a few seconds to comprehend that Sakura was playing a trick on him, intentionally. ‘Means we’re getting close right?’ Hashirama did his best not to smile and instead look hurt. ‘It means she’s comfortable with me, right?’

“I can’t believe you tried to guilt me,”

“Its not a big deal,” She rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her dango. At the back of his mind, something kept telling him that the dango looked really peculiar. He didn’t take note of it, his instincts were crazy whenever they were together. They were telling him to take her home too but he didn’t need listen to that.

“You laughed at my face.” He said flatly, trying to sound hurt.

“I’ve laughed with you before,” She said and for Hashirama it was bit harder to hide his smile now. ‘You did, and I hope in the future you will still laugh with me.’

“You laughed at me,”

“I was just joking around!”

“I thought you were going to get mad!” Hashirama had seen her get mad before and it was as beautiful as it was destructive. Sakura could smile before getting mad. She could smile before punching the lights out of a man.

“Well, I was but I know how tired you must be. You’ve been spacing out on me since we started walking.”

Was it that obvious? How he felt so safe when he was with her? “Really?”

“I had to steer you to the nearest bench. I thought you were going to end up dead on your feet.”

This time, Hashirama had to raise an eyebrow at that. He was aware they were walking towards the bench, though truthfully he was on autopilot on their walk and talk.

“Okay, maybe not steering, steering but I was worried so I wanted us to sit.”

True to her words, she did looked a bit off. Her eyes were a wide and looking at him earnestly. She looked a bit out of balance in her seat and Hashirama thought that maybe she was leaning more for support and less for teasing. Was this how she looked when she worry? It didn’t look right.

“Thank you for worrying.” Maybe Hashirama was overthinking things. They were in Iron, a land full of honorable samurai guarding the area. Still, maybe he shouldn’t have left the shinobi Tobirama assigned to him as guards.

“Anything for a friend.” The way she said it sounded like she was talking about the weather. She wasn’t even looking at him, she was looking at her food and drink. She said it like it was the normal thing, like she was used to saying it. She said it like she said it before and of course she had other friends. Hashirama thought he’d be okay with just being friends. He wasn’t right.

‘Something’s wrong,’ Hashirama thought he was just out of it because of the stress but his instincts were screaming at him to take her and leave. It wasn’t the first time they screamed at him for that but now something was different. ‘Did I eat anything?’

Massaging his forehead to ease off the tension, Hashirama tried to remember. He couldn’t recall eating anything aside from the food his fellow Konohagakure shinobi brought and- shit. Hashirama never turned his head so fast he was afraid that he might’ve snapped his neck. Sakura was looking back right at him, the stick of dango on the ground. She realized it too. Hashirama saw it in her eyes before her eyelids drooped down. Sakura had offered him her dango too, and he had took a bite from it.

“Move in.” Hashirama heard a man’s voice and felt the inkling of a genjutsu being layered on them. ‘Damn it,’ He shouldn’t have let his guard down.

‘Kai,’ Hashirama dispelled the genjutsu but feigned to be under its control, he needed to know who they were after. Sakura seemed to be completely under the genjutsu, what with her slack body leaning its full weight against him. It was fine, he could protect her. She was safe as long as he was around.

He’d make sure of it.

“What about the man?” Obviously they were talking about him but they didn’t seem to know it was him That was confusing. That meant they weren’t here for Hashirama, they were here for Sakura. Hashirama was still slumped in his seat, furiously thinking his next moves. He was often mistaken for a dunce for his bubbly personality. People forget there was a reason why Tobirama wasn’t made clan head despite his evident competence. It was because Hashirama was better, not just older.

Something terrible bubbled up inside him, something he’s been trying to keep under wraps. It was sickening how convincing that line of thought was, how quick and detailed his mind supplied him with a plan. A devilish plan.

‘This is our chance. We can bring her home,’

“He’s just a samurai,” He heard one of the men sneered. From the feel of it, there were six of them. Obviously shinobi. “Leave him. Take the girl.”

‘Play the hero,’ The voice continued, an annoying lilt in its tone, and Hashirama felt fire fan over his body. ‘Let her be captured and save the day.’

“Do we kill him?”

‘It’s not like she’s going to die. She'll never die on my watch.’ Hashirama felt awful. ‘Just little bit. She’ll just be hurt a little bit and when she does, she’ll be scared but we’ll be there.’

“Did you not hear what I just said?” The man who sneered said and Hashirama was betting he was from Kumo or Iwa. Not just from the accent he spoke but also because he was being an asshole, which were abundant in both countries. “Leave him. Cleaning up after a body is a pain in the ass.”

‘She’ll need you,’ This ugly side of him continued. ‘You can bring her to village to recuperate.’

He felt two of the men walk closer to the bench. Hashirama could take Sakura and just run back to Madara, so she could be completely safe. It would be so easy to do yet he still played possum. The chance to bring her home was just so appealing. The only thing stopping him from the hideous idea he had was that he didn’t want her to see the bloodshed he was capable of. Hashirama didn’t want her to be afraid of him.

That was the entire opposite of what he wanted.

‘She’ll have no choice but to stay in Konoha. She won’t be able to leave for awhile,’ Hashirama could already see it, the way Sakura would be staying in his family compound in his family clothes. The voice laughed. 'maybe not ever.’

He felt horrible, just like when he had his first kill at the age of six. He wanted to shed his skin. The temptation of what this opportunity present was too strong, and Hashirama was weak when it came to her. What was he even thinking?

“Be careful, asshole. You so much as scratch her, your eyes are next. Understand?” Obviously the sneering man was the leader. Who was he to care for Sakura’s safety, when he’s doing the complete opposite? Not that Hashirama could differ, he was doing nothing to stop this even though he could and he might as well be an accomplice. ‘He’ll be the first to go.’

“Yes, sir!” Was the frightened reply to the threat.

Hashirama let the unknown man gently pry and carry her away from his side. He could feel the cold air immediately and every muscle in his body screamed at him to move, to get Sakura back to his side. He did nothing but fall to his side against the bench now that his support was gone. The ambushers ignored him and set off in a fast pace.

The moment he felt no presence in the vicinity, Hashirama opened his eyes and he did not like the lack of pink in his peripherals. He still felt sluggish but his body was already burning the drugs out of his system. He’s still unaware as to how those bastards were able to hand Sakura the dango without the woman being cautious about it. Hashirama would have to ask her later. She was usually so wary of most things that he can’t quite believe how she didn’t notice the drugs.

That and she was a healer, an apothecary, it was her field and Hashirama knew just how great she was in her field.

‘They’re careless,’ Hashirama noted as he followed the not so covered up trail that the perpetrators left behind. ‘or they’re in a hurry.’

.

Hashirama bid his time. After tracking the group, it took him less than a day to catch up. To his surprise, they were treating Sakura fairly well. Like an injured princess, what without how she was carried in a way that made her most comfortable. No wonder Hashirama was able to catch up with them so quickly, they were going so slow to not jostle the woman that he was tempted to just snatch her and be done with it.

Hashirama was a patient man, most of the times anyways. Right now was most of those times.

The group didn’t set camp through the nights, it was a dangerous move but seemingly thought out. They have short rests, and from observation, the men weren’t used to being run ragged. They were obviously in a hurry but they insisted in going in a slow pace and Hashirama was really confused at what was going through their leader’s mind. He was the one carrying Sakura like a porcelain doll, and from the looks of his men Hashirama was inclined to think they were as dumbstruck as he was.

It made sense if the man wanted Sakura to stay safe but that would be an irritating thought and did nothing but further cemented the fact that he will be the first to go.

They gave her a steady intake of the sleeping medicine to make her stay asleep, maybe even a genjutsu. Hashirama wasn’t sure, he couldn’t sense it from the distance between them. Either way, she looked as peaceful as a sleeping babe so he didn’t feel the need to interfere. Not yet anyways. Sakura needed to feel the danger, to be conscious of it before he could sweep her off her feet. Then she could cling to him all she wanted because that’s what all Hashirama ever wanted, to feel like she needed him as much as he needed her.

Based from their minimal conversations, Hashirama had a vague framework as to what the fuck they were doing. He had noticed that all the six men had the same insignia etched on various areas on their bodies. Branded. Thats what they were. It reeked of an organization Hashirama was not unfamiliar of.

However as far as he knew, the Hakuryū clan disliked stepping on foreign toes but they made a big mistake of stepping on his.

Were they the reason she feared to settle, to visit his village? He was going to end them.

It only took them four days of travel to arrive at their destination but from the worried look on their faces that number seemed too big to be acceptable for their employer. They arrived in a nondescript village having little to no people roaming about. Stalls were closed and he wondered why.

Hashirama was a few meters behind them, hidden by the buildings and he was just grateful they arrived during nighttime. They stopped in front of a small gate of an equally small house. It was slightly worrisome to see a bit too many guards in a tiny space but he had no need to act now. Sakura was still safe and Hashirama blended with the trees dotting the yard, carefully observing the captors.

He knew they needed Sakura for her skills, heard it from careless mouths from the trip, but Hashirama also knew that these type of men were not so patient as he. Sakura was a fiery woman, she would not like being held captive by unruly men. It was only a matter of time before they push her button or push his, and Hashirama was fully prepared to swoop in.

It was regrettable to not have his armor but he had no use of it for this fight. Just like he predicted, the true ‘boss’ of this gig had no time nor patience and had rudely woken up Sakura from her artificially induced slumber. Hashirama may not have seen it but he could hear it clearly, with his chakra enhanced senses.

“Listen little girl,” The new man started and Hashirama wondered if he was the one responsible for Sakura's flighty behaviour. “I told you that we needed your skills, Sakura-san.”

'Change of plans,' Hashirama could sense four people in the room, including Sakura, where she was being held, one of which was the leader of her capture but Hashirama didn't prioritize him at the moment. He was locked on the presence of the boss. 'He's going down first.'

“And I’ve told you once too many times, Raito-san, I do not wish to tie myself to your clan nor to any other clan for that matter. I’ve healed your son, your people because I wanted to but do not think that I want to stay here forever.”

“I think you’ve misunderstand, your opinion does not matter. Put it on her.” Raito was going to feel his wrath tonight for his stupid ambitions but Hashirama held his ground. His wrath could wait.

The other two men moved but Sakura was quicker and Hashirama wanted to see the action so badly but he wasn’t going to mess this up. She seemed to be doing well in defending herself. He heard the footsteps of additional men going to the room and Hashirama began to think that maybe this princess was going to save herself. He didn’t know whether to be proud or disappointed.

The fight moved to the rear yard and Hashirama had a beautiful view of Sakura’s devastating defense. She seemed more incline to knock out the men than finishing them of. Though he also noticed how some of the men had hesitated in attacking her, as if torn between two loyalties, before they moved to capture the woman.

Hashirama had thought she was beautiful when she basked in the peace of nature but her figure in the middle of a fight was equally alluring.

“Use your weapons,” The other man not involved in the fight was watching with wide crazed eyes. “She can heal herself anyway.”

The hesitation laid on thick in her opponents but one man in the fray unsheathed his sword and was quick to attack, he was the other man in the room when they woke Sakura up. He would be the second one to go. Sakura had no choice but to dodge, though her hands were a weapon she was also nothing but flesh and bones.

She moved gracefully on her feet. The other men were entranced and just watch the two dance with each other. As much as Hashirama loved watching her dance, he was also getting impatient and Raito had similar sentiments.

“What are you doing, fools? Get her!” The old man shouted and it seemed to break a spell because not then a minute they took out their weapons, most of them being blunt unlike the first man with the sword, and drove in the fray. It was frightening how easy she was able to send one man flying to the wall while tossing another grown man into the air.

It was when one of the men successfully laid a hit against her forearms she lost her rhythm. Hashirama noticed the weird influx of her chakra at that moment and he nearly growled when he saw a seal in place at the area she was hit. These people were smart to even think of it, much less executing such a plan to put a seal on her. He could admit, it made him jealous.

He wanted to put one on her too, albeit in a very different way.

Sakura was able to reduce the men of around twenty numbers into six, not including the useless boss by the veranda, and Hashirama felt it near to intervene. She took several hits since that first one, the seal obviously doing something to her chakra but Hashirama didn’t know what and Sakura didn’t seem to know either. Bruises littered her skin and Hashirama was only held by a very thin line to not recklessly jump in.

'It'll be worth it.' That annoying voice piped in his head.

She was very adept in taijutsu and Hashirama wanted to know just where she learned it from. It reminded him of his family’s style, a heavily modified one that he wouldn’t have known if he was anybody else. He noticed how her style was fit a person of her stature and it was just brilliant.

One of the men, the leader of her capture team, proceeded to strike and get in Sakura’s circle but another was behind him, quick to offer backup. Sakura easily striked the first man unconscious and was using his body as a shield against the second man. However the second man had now qualms in hitting a comrade just to lay a blow and Hashirama had twitched in his seat when Sakura moved to receive the blow with her arms. She threw the man she protected far away from the fight.

Hashirama saw the bone sticking out of her arm and decided this was enough. He felt like on fire again.

'Go and be the hero, dattebayo.'

Chapter Text

In this life or the next

I won’t lose you,

 I can't lose you.

“What did you do?” She heard Naruto’s horrified expression more than see it. The world moved under her feet and she knew she was going to fall. She can't even brace for impact with how stiff her body was. She can’t feel the wind from Naruto’s fast save to catch her, she only knew there was wind from the way her hair moved. The world was spinning. She tried to smile. Her lips tugged upward and the muscles in her cheeks were on fire from the effort of smiling. It didn’t matter, what mattered is the celebration happening around them.

They’ve won. They’ve won!

The smile had to slip off her face because Sakura couldn’t hold it anymore but she let her eyes curve in a way her sensei does whenever he smiled. She looked at Naruto, so many words on her tongue. She could barely make out the harsh lines on his face, what with the tears in her eyes. She felt another wave of blood rise from her throat. She pushed it down. Her vision started to clear. The battlefield was still grey and gloomy but the sky was clearer than before. Shouts of victory rang through the lands and it was painfully ringing her ears but she cherished it. She relished in the screams, screams of grief and relief. Screams of having to live the next day but having to bury their friends. Screams of those who survived and will survive for the future they fought for.

Naruto was by her side, always the beacon of light. His blue eyes were opened wide. Sakura wished he’d close them. She didn’t want him to see her like this. A bloody mess. Her body trembled but she didn’t know whether it was because she was already convulsing from blood loss or because Naruto’s arms kept shaking as he held her.

“Sakura,” Naruto gritted his teeth, his fangs already elongating because of the influx of his chakra. “what did you do?”

‘The last resort,’ Sakura wanted to say but if she opened her mouth now only blood would get out. Truthfully, she didn’t even know if it would work. She only based the seal on some scrapped up notes the Yondaime left and her knowledge on space and time ninjutsu, which was as small as Naruto’s knowledge in medical ninjutsu.

She had honestly thought she wouldn’t have to use it.

They had finally struck the finishing blow after all. Together, all three of them, team seven was able to take down a god.

But she did not go down silently.

It was only because Sakura never took her eyes off of her golden boy that she noticed the danger before anyone else, even before Sasuke did. And he was probably the fastest shinobi alive at that moment but when it came to Naruto, Sakura would always be there first.

“Sakura-!” Naruto sobbed. “You- why’d you-!”

She tried calling forth her seal, even though she knew she’d already run it dry. She thought she’d give it a try anyway. Nothing happened. Not even a faint glow that might have calmed Naruto down even if it was only just for show. He was squeezing her, desperately trying to keep her blood inside when the hole on her stomach said otherwise. Sakura didn’t notice the frantic background, the movement of the shinobi who were still able to move, calling out for a medic that still had chakra.

“Medic!” Kakashi’s own hysterical voice cut through the battlefield, loud and clear that even Sakura was able to discern her sensei’s voice. “We need a medic!”

Sakura was tired, so so tired and cold. Her fingers felt like ice and she couldn’t really move. Naruto was fully carrying her, cradling her in his arms. The malevolent chakra swirling around them frightened her, not for her safety but for her friend’s mental state. He had long since proved that he had an alliance with the fox and they were partners, but emotional outbreaks made her blond friend lose his control sometimes.

He was a blubbering, growling mess. Chanting her name like some sort of mantra and Sakura’s heart ached for this man.

‘Naruto,’ She wanted to plead but instead, something like a gurgle sounded out. It felt like her throat was flooded. ‘Naruto, Naruto. Stop, please.’

Sakura closed her eyes, her eyelids being too heavy for her to lift. Her voice wouldn’t come out and she can’t even twitch her fingers. Frustration bubbled up inside her and she felt ugly when her tears were continually flowing out. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to end this way. They were finally together, finally able to come with peace with one another but she just had to screw it up.

Sakura had no problem losing her life but she felt horrible for making her team experience another loss. They’ve already lost so much but at least she wouldn’t be alone. She’d be able to meet Yamato and Sai later. She’d tell Sai all about Ino and her dreams with him and tell Yamato how much Kakashi missed him.

Hot hands touched her face and she was forced to blink her eyes open, red eyes stared back at her.

“Sakura-chan, don't sleep-” Sakura tried to speak again, opening her mouth and just like she thought blood immediately rose from her wound. She hacked up the blood and Naruto’s grip on her shoulders became painful. Her throat felt worse like she swallowed shrapnel. Red eyes still gazed at her and she felt colder than before.

“Stop,” She was able to force out, teeth red and smile genuine. She wanted to say his name, wanted to tell him so many things, better things, happy things but at this moment Sakura could only remember the pain she inflicted on him. “sorry-” ‘Sorry for being reckless. Sorry for being so mean to you all these years. Sorry for making you sad. Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ Sakura hoped he could still read her eyes, see the words she wanted to say on her face even when her face was unmoving.

‘I’m sorry for leaving first.’

Sakura wanted to say a lot of things but her chest felt heavy with each shudder of breath she was able to take. Her ribs felt like it was collapsing, if it hasn’t already.

“No. No, no.” Naruto was bent over her, and Sakura could see how he trembled. “I won’t forgive you, Sakura.”

A rasp intake of breath and it wasn’t her. “ I won’t forgive you. ”

Sakura could see her reflection in Naruto’s eyes and she looked hideous. She tried to raise her hands but her fingers didn’t even twitch. Naruto’s fingers dug in arms and shoulders as if it would anchor her to him and it made her want to choke. His chakra was getting wilder and wilder. It was trying to do something but Sakura didn’t know what. If anything it was burning her.

One of Naruto’s hands found hers and Sakura tried holding his back with all her might. She only managed a twitch but she didn’t know if it was hers or Naruto’s because of all his trembling.

“Naruto,” Her voice was weak, nearly nonexistent but Naruto had sharp sense. He zoned in on her even more, his eyes memorizing her face and it pained her to see him do it. “tha- thanks-” ‘for everything.’

Sakura felt her throat constrict and she had to cough up the blood. It splattered on her chest and Naruto’s. Everything was getting cloudier like someone shoved a cotton ball inside her head through her ears and messed up her optic nerves.

“No.” She heard a growl. The world was swaying. “ no. ”

Trembling arms surrounded her and Sakura just wanted to relish the overwhelming heat her golden boy always seemed to exude. ‘He’ll be fine,’ Sakura thought of the rest of her team. ‘they still have each other.’

Sakura was tired of always being the one to keep it together, but she loved it. She loved her team, she loved taking care of them, she loved loving them no matter how sharp and painful they were. Still, after all these years, she had done her best.

She gave her best.

“Please, please, kami you can’t take her away.” Sakura couldn’t hear anything now, her eyes felt heavy and Naruto’s desperate eyes on her felt heavier.

“Sakura, you can’t do this to me.” Flame covered hands moved back to her face but she didn’t have the energy to keep them open anymore. She didn’t even feel the heat. “ You can’t do this to me. ”

Sakura stared blankly at the papers she’s holding. It was too early for her to be awake yet here she was, sitting in front of the desk in the room she rented looking at old files before remembering her promise of writing letters. The flame of the candle flickered and glow at the desk's corner. She sighed, scratching the back of her head. She woke up from a terrible dream earlier, though she didn’t remember most of it. Like most of her dreams. She just remembered being so cold and it was just awful to the point that she couldn’t move. Not even make her fingers twitch. It was such a nightmare and she really wished the dreams would just stop because recently her dreams haven't been good.

In fact, ever since she visited Hashirama’s village, her dreams had become worse.

Instead of dreams of a group of four by a red bridge and a tree, Sakura saw hard, stone benches that seemed painful to sit on. She dreamt about… family, well she considered them as her family, but not in a good way. She kept seeing them hurt and in turn made her feel hurt.

She remembered a masked face and cloud hair but Sakura couldn’t put her two fingers on his name. It always slipped by her. Another face she can’t forget was that of a raven-haired man, his pinwheel eyes that absolutely showed his Uchiha descent but she was too shy to tell Madara or Izuna about it. They weren’t that close, not close enough for personal problems that might cause clan problems. They haven’t even properly communicated since she healed Izuna until she arrived at the village. Saving Izuna warranted her no favors from their clan, regardless of Madara's insistence, because healing the injured was her nindo. She wouldn't take advantage of them because of that, it would make her feel horrible.

She remembered Naruto, sweet sweet Naruto, and his sunshine hair and sky eyes and Sakura wondered where he was right now. If he was looking for her like she was looking for him. Or maybe she should wonder where she was right now but that would be silly because she knows exactly where she was, in a village near the islands of the newly established Kirigakure, but she just felt so lost. Like every time she had a dream.

And it frustrated her how much she didn’t know, how much she wasn’t aware of and the only thing she remembered was her name and this person named Naruto. That and the first thing she saw was that she was in the middle of a crater with redhead people staring at her. Sakura shuddered remembering the pupil-less stares she was subjected under upon her awakening.

Sakura was so thankful to Mito, of her benevolent understanding and readiness to help a nobody like her. She wasn’t a part of her clan but Mito had helped her regardless. Sakura knew that no one else would do what Mito did for her, not when she’s just a stranger that fell from the sky and crashed one of their houses.

Mito did look at her weirdly at first, the first week, but her weary facade quickly dissolved and Sakura had gained her first friend that she knew and remembered. Maybe the fact that she was able to heal a few of their ambushed men also helped. Maybe the fact that they called it a miracle or fate to have her in their house also helped.

It was an automatic reaction from her, to be honest. Sakura could vividly remember it. One moment she was walking down the hallway when she saw bloody, injured people being carried to the medical wing and it was like something took over her body. Her feet brought her to one of the patient’s futon and she couldn’t even hear the shoutings and warnings directed at her for being in the way of healing. She let herself kneel down. What they were doing was useless, slapping on healing seals will do nothing to a broken bone and an open stomach, so Sakura had moved. She placed her hand, her glowing hand, on one of the men and all the noise suddenly stopped and the nasty gash she placed her hand on disappeared when she pulled away.

It was like a wake-up call to her, one single moment of clarity and silence then she was barking orders go get towels, water! You there! Bring me these herbs!

She was dead on her feet once the last man was cleared from the hands of shinigami, and it was at that moment she realized Mito was at the back of the room looking at her with a disconcerting stare as if trying to pick open her mind and read her thoughts. Her face had reddened when Sakura realized with embarrassment and shame that it was a miracle that they followed her orders with little question. Her, a nobody, had ordered the clan members of her savior like she had the authority.

She didn’t realize she was splattered with blood and stomach acid at that time, not a usual look for women at those times. Sakura didn’t know that her face had been calm, in her element when confronted with bleeding, dying, hopeless men. Even now as she turned around to avoid the Matriarch’s analytical stare and propped a glowing hand on the man who had his stomach opened with two different swords, she looked like a vision as she conducted an automatic diagnostic jutsu by hand. One that she didn't know was uncommon at those times.

The yukata she was kindly lent with was ruined, with the sleeves ripped off so that she could have better movement along with the skirt because she couldn’t walk properly from one bed to the other. Mito took one long unnerving look at her, she could feel it at the back of her head, before getting out of the room. When the shoji doors shut closed without any words from their clan head, Sakura realized she was the center of attention in the room with the other Uzumaki healers staring at her with something like awe and reverence in their eyes before the shoji doors quickly opened and the twin maids that first cleaned her and got her in a yukata appeared.

Without words, they took her to the bathing rooms again and gave her a tearful painful scrubbing. In no time at all, she was sitting in front of a small chabudai across Mito with nothing but tea in front of them and a few pieces of biscuits she learned Mito was fond of. The interrogation, her mind told her like that time it told her she first had to set the broken ribs of the man who had trouble breathing, wasn’t anything like she had imagined. Or remembered, she can’t say which. Sakura just remembered platinum blonde hair and similar pupil-less cornflower blue eyes looking at her with a mischievous smile.

When Mito realized asking her won’t solve anything she left the case alone with just a warning about presenting herself to the council. That warning made her stomach flip and of course, she had to report what she did, report report report Sakura-san give me a status on their blood levels. Thankfully she was given two days to recuperate and wrap her mind around the sudden flooding of images, of sounds she saw and heard when no one’s looking and no one else can see.

The council meeting was less nerve-wracking than being subjected to a one-on-one with the Clan Matriarch but the set of eyes on her person the entire time made her want to be swallowed by the wooden floors she was standing on. It was short and to the point, easier than when Mito had asked her things she didn’t know about and things she did know about but no idea why.

“You are welcomed to stay.” They said like she had a choice in staying or going. She had nowhere to go, no plans on what she should do, and absolutely no one to go to.

Sakura remembered her two-year stay at Uzushiogakure and how she took in learning about the world outside it like fish in the water because she didn’t feel like she belonged among the sea of red. It took a long time to convince Mito that she didn’t want to be their problem anymore, despite that she was offering them her healing capabilities and the older red-haired woman telling her otherwise. The council took even longer to be convinced and Sakura was tempted to just sneak out. She had been training back her skills after all. She remembered dodging boulders, punching craters, and it was as easy as slipping on an old glove to her hand to move as she had in her dreams.

Sakura glanced to the other side of her desk at the single neat, folded letter she was finished with. It was a letter for Mito about her travels, about the mission she assigned herself and it made her remember the first village she visited. It was desolate. It looked like even the devil abandoned this hell on earth. People had seen her and turned away, their faces gaunt and their body just skin clinging to bones. Sakura saw them and she stayed. There were only three children in the whole town and they were healthier than the adults. That thought, the understanding of the children being the priority of this deserted village made her work harder. Made her draft plans, plans on hunting and on fishing, on farming, on building new houses she could do with little help and share whatever knowledge she had. A year later the village wasn’t thriving, but the crops were alive and there was food on the table every night.

The people had an abundance of wood they carved into little trinkets, some messy while some sellable, and they wanted to participate in trade. The people had thanked her, thanked her for paying attention to them when no one else had barely glanced at them. She left with the first group of abled body people capable of being merchants and protected their little group with their little wooden wagon until the next village. This village was better, years better, than the one they left but the people she was with had no time to be bitter. When Sakura saw them prepare their stall on their own she said her goodbyes.

Sakura left with promises of visiting, because if there was one village like that around the country then there was no doubt there were others. She found four similarly abandoned villages and she got them back on their feet just like what she had done with the first one. She visited other villages, ones that were better but equally suffering from lack of knowledge and discipline so she offered her knowledge on herbs and on plants.

That was six years ago and now she’s nearing twenty-seven. Its been seven years since she last set foot in Uzushiogakure but her letters were constant.

Sakura was still lost in this world, she still hadn’t found the right footing yet, but she’s living. She’s living and she’s going to make sure other people were living as well. She hasn’t found a home yet, the Uzumaki wasn’t her home no matter how much her heart warmed at their name, but she feels it deep within her bones that she knows it's out there. She just has to work hard and find it.

Looking back at the four blank paper she had underneath her hands, Sakura frowned. Honestly, she only promised Hashirama to send him a letter but she knew that those Uchiha brats would be on her ass if she didn’t send them a letter. And she just felt bad if she wasn’t going to send Tobirama one when he was so kind to her during her stay at his home. Kind-ish in a cold way Sakura was kind of familiar with.

The problem is she had no idea what to write about at the moment.

‘Hashirama,’ Sakura mused, a small smile on her lips without her knowing. ‘he’s so weird.’

Sakura remembered that day she first met him, a stuttering hand and blinding smile with shy eyes never once looking away from her.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It reminded her of something, of someone, but no dream came to her that day or the days that followed except that of a village, tall and proud, with bustling people and smiling faces and Sakura just knew with her heart and soul that that was home.

“My name is Hashirama,” A mountain with leaders, children with fire flowing in their veins connecting them together, the protectors in masks hidden in the night and among the leaves. “Senju Hashirama.”

Sakura saw Hashirama and saw the inkling connection of her home just like how she first met Mito and thought of a rude fox and a smile with too many teeth but his claws never again taking a swipe at her willingly. She was eager to have Hashirama as her friend, maybe she’d be able to find a way back to- to a place she knew was her home but wasn’t sure what it was or where it was.

Then Hashirama told her of his village and Sakura felt her heart stop and burn all at once when she heard the name.

“My village,” He said with pride. “Konohagakure no Sato.”

She had no idea why she reacted like that, like she wanted nothing else but to go back with him to his village yet at the same time never set foot in it. She chose the latter back then because it terrified her how easy, how comfortable it was for her to just say yes when she knew she was needed across the lands because no one else was willing to help the dying children, the sick elders, the hungry people that dotted that were abundant like shells on a beach. It terrified her how quick she was to forget the people that needed her when she was presented with the idea of returning to a place that she might call home.

She knew Hashirama was frustrated, maybe even angry, at her but Sakura can’t visit his village yet, not yet when her heart wasn’t ready.

But then she was kidnapped and Hashirama had saved her by bringing her to his village. Then she had no choice. When Sakura was greeted with a man who had white hair and red eyes too sharp for her liking, she wanted to bolt out of the room but somewhere beneath her skin she knew there was no way she could outrun this man. When he told her they were at Konoha, her heart soared and fell at the same time. When she saw the mountain, clean and without faces, she nearly had a heart attack. 'Were they supposed to have faces?' Sakura had thought back then.

She learned that this wasn’t the home in her dreams, the dreams she had when she met Hashirama, because the village was smaller than she had dreamt of but she saw the similarity of it. The forests surrounding them, the mountain watching over them, and the people working together in the name of the Will of Fire. She saw it all and she couldn’t help but feel empty that this village was nothing more than just an echo of her home, her real home. Sakura feared her thoughts at the implications so she just avoided them.

She never wanted to visit that village again, she wanted out as soon as she woke because the surge of emotions flooded her soul and she wanted to choke out her heart that was lodged in her throat. The air was going in and out of her lungs but it felt like hot water had invaded her system, filling her up until she wanted to explode or burn with how hot her chest felt. Tobirama at that time didn’t help her either with his invasive questions during his short interrogation. She answered all of them as honestly as possible.

But when Hashirama had entered the room it felt like she could finally breathe and she could’ve cried. Thank Kami she didn’t and that Tobirama’s imposing presence had left as soon as Hashirama came.

The sight of Hashirama in white robes and a familiar strange hat made her heart seize but she ignored it because his smile, sunshine grin, was just so infectious that she couldn’t help but smile back. The endless chatter he bombarded her with as she laid on the futon underneath the blankets made her feel a sense of déjà vu like every time she and Hashirama were together.

Sakura sighed again, recalling that disaster of her waking up in the Senju compound and the tears that wanted to flow down her face made her feel a familiar sense of shame heat up in her gut. She finally picked up the brush on her desk and wrote down Hashirama’s letter first because writing to him was as easy as talking to him and the words were easily written down in ink. She wrote down whatever was on her mind.

She wrote down about how she was faring well in her travels, that she was currently in Water because she heard of the disease that spread since Winter ended. Post-Winter Flu. She told him about the new sweets she discovered, the fishes she’d seen caught by the locals, and told him about how he might like to fish on one of the islands. Sakura told him about the new tea she discovered and that it was greener than what she’d ever seen before but the taste was familiar, though she didn’t tell him that. The familiar yet unfamiliar taste meant it was a tea of the past she didn't remember. When it came to the point that she was asking how he was holding up with his work and if he was making Tsubaki tea as she told him too, she had already reached the bottom of the page.

She bid him to stay safe and healthy and, with major hesitation, told him about her possible visit by the end of spring. Sakura had promised to visit, and she was never one to break her promises despite that it might break her instead. She wrote her name and signature. She paused for a bit before deciding to draw a childish picture of a tree and a flower.

The next letters were harder to write but she finished Izuna’s letter with a promise of bringing him a new book of legends surrounding the island she was staying at. Sakura had wrote to him about the culture in Water and that they like to perform dances during the rain. She wrote down how beautiful the scenery was, how skilled the dancers were as if they were dancing with the water. For Madara, Sakura was tempted to not write a letter at all just to spite him. He was such a pain in the ass during her stay. He was almost as bad as Hashirama, who always made her as an excuse to shirk his duties and made Tobirama annoyed at her when she did nothing wrong. Madara was always bothering her during her chores, eating the fruits she’d sliced for the Senju guards and distracting her from doing the laundry properly, and always dropping in her room whenever she had a break uninvited like it wasn’t inappropriate for a single man and woman.

But Sakura remembered another boy with raven hair and pinwheel eyes so she tolerated it. Sakura glanced to her bed, a thick kimono with the red and white uchiwa fan emblazoned at its back, and she felt a vein throb on her forehead. She didn’t want the clothes, not when it could paint a target on her back but Madara had been adamant and stubborn like an unmoving mountain so she was left with no choice but to relent. She only wore it in the privacy of her room, and it greatly helped her in Water because the temperature was always cold in the night and morning.

So to Madara, Sakura wrote to him about the unique weapons she’d seen in Water because she remembered his weapon was a fan for Kami’s sake. She wrote on his letter about the deeply instilled sense of honor and polite manners in the people she met, hoping that somehow Madara would get the hint of learning proper manners himself, and how it was common among their warriors or few of whom she was able to interact with. Sakura also wrote some of the giant birds she’d seen swooping down in the waters and flying back up with fishes in their mouth and how the sight made her terrified and in awe at the same time. She remembered Madara babbling about his skills in falconry and told him maybe he’d try his hand in taming wild sea eagles too.

When it finally came to writing to Tobirama, Sakura hesitated. She wasn’t even sure if that white-haired man would bother to read whatever she’d written. It made her think if sending him a letter was a great idea but Sakura knew the feeling of being left alone, of not being noticed, so she continued writing on the last piece of paper. She didn’t want her words to feel fake so she just wrote about whatever she felt like talking about, taking into consideration what might interest the stoic ruby eyed man. She wrote about the weather first, a safe topic when beginning a conversation, and the cold, humid climate that always surrounded Water. Sakura wrote about the places she visited, both good and bad. She wrote about one village that was filled with sick people and wrote about the next one that had an inn and hot springs. Sakura wrote about the trading system that existed, thinking that Tobirama might be interested in expanding trading routes of his village, and the currently popular products circulating the market. She also told him about the little things, like the delicacies she bought and the sparkly sea glass and shell accessories that was being sold in one of the thriving port towns.

When she finished with his letter, Sakura stretched her arms above her head. She was getting cramps for sitting still for so long, hunched over the desk and writing away, but there was something habitual in her position of being in front of a desk and writing on paper. Maybe it was because she’d always been writing letters to Mito, and to the villages she had visited. 

Knock, knock. “Come in.”

“Sakura, here’s the status on Kakashi’s vitals.” A never-ending stack of papers and the permanent smell of ink and antiseptic was constant in her room.

She could taste something bitter on her tongue, her chest cold and her fingers even colder. Her hands were shaky when she took the papers and sympathetic raven eyes looked at her.

“Thank you, Shiz-”

Sakura fell back on the floor and the chair fell along with her with a loud crash. Her back hurt but that wasn’t the problem. She willed her eyes to open and stare at the ceiling as she gulped in air. ‘Breathe’, Sakura thought, her hands in a tight fist. ‘You’re not there. You’re here, here in Wave.’

Sakura let out a shuddering breath, her hands in a tight fist digging crescents on her palms. She rolled over to her side and she could feel the bruise forming on her shoulder blades. She hissed at the slight pain of her back but she was able to sit up with wobbly movements. She sat there, breathing for a few moments. A name- actually two names. She heard two names, disregarding her own, though one of them was incomplete.

Sakura inhaled, her heart beating against her ribs, not taking the chance to close her eyes. Sometimes her visions were too much, sometimes she felt too much, and returning back to her body felt like she was stabbing each of her cells.

She glanced back to the desk, relieved to see the letters were unharmed, before thinking back to the vision she just saw.

‘Kakashi.’ Sakura thought before shivering at the warmth, worry, fondness that wrapped around her body like a father’s hug.

“Naruto! Naruto what are you doing?!” He ran, haggard down to his bones, and only unadulterated willpower kept him from not falling on his ass. “You’re burning her, Naruto!”

Sakura. Haruno Sakura. His precious student and he saw her be gutted like a fish. It made Kakashi retch before calling a medic that wasn’t coming. No one was coming now, they were all just empty reserves now and no one can help her. Kakashi had never felt this powerless in his entire life. Again. Again he was going to bury another again and he just can’t live with that. Not now. Not when they were so close, so close to the happy ending that they dreamed of.

“Sakura!” He shouted, his legs also screaming at him for making them work as he limped towards the pink and yellow-haired duo. “Sakura I need you to open your eyes!”

It took longer than he would have liked but Kakashi was finally near the red, angry swirling mass of chakra surrounding his students. He felt his skin burn at first just as he came close but when he automatically pulled out any chakra he had left, to ease the pain, the swirling chakra avoided him. As if welcoming him like it recognized him from his chakra alone. Still, there would be a scar left on his hand.

He had no hesitation entering the chakra dome, no room for it because his students were at stake here. He could clearly see now how unnaturally still Naruto was hunched over Sakura’s similarly unnaturally still body and Kakashi had expected the worst. His heart was seized in his throat and he didn’t know if it was because of the chakra that he couldn’t fucking breathe properly or maybe it's another one of his fits. Once he was near, Kakashi practically let himself fall on his knees beside Naruto who was laying Sakura flat on the ground.

Her chest wasn’t moving.

Even though he was expecting it, panic gripped him at all new levels and his throat burned from the shouting fit he had for a medic. His mind whirling at the possibilities, at the strategies, at the things he could- should do to save his student. His favorite one. But nothing came to his mind except the terror of seeing another loved one die. His breathing became erratic and he fumbled with his hands as he tried to push her intestines back inside her.

The texture and blood made him sick but he had already vomited earlier and there was nothing left to vomit. Regret was sharp in his chest of not studying any sort of medical ninjutsu but Kakashi had always been the best with doing the best with what he had. So he was able to tear his sleeves, whatever bandages he had, and wrap it around Sakura’s torso so that her innards won’t spill out despite not needing them anymore.

Kakashi just didn’t want to see her blood. That shade of red felt wrong on her but removing the red that suited her so well was impossible. Her jounin uniform was soaked in it, and her face was a mess. His hands moved on his own before he thought about it Kakashi was already tucking her petal hair away from her face and his heart felt like it was collapsing on itself when she remained unmoving. She'd usually swat his hands away whenever he tried touching her hair. It looked like she was sleeping but the blood surrounding her mouth told him otherwise. Wrong, wrong, everything was so wrong .

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

He tried his best, he kept telling himself, it’s what Sakura told him to keep telling himself. He’s doing his best. He’s doing his best. He’s not- not failing- Kakashi felt his mask dampened and he sucked in a breath when he tried wiping off the blood on her face only to smear it everywhere.

Her eyes.

Her eyes were looking heavenward and Kakashi couldn’t bring it in himself to close them so he just hovers his hand everywhere else around her face to keep him distracted. He was so busy trying to anchor himself, to stop his heart from shattering his ribs, to stop himself from not breathing that Kakashi hadn’t noticed what Naruto was doing.

Not until Naruto’s elbow had jabbed Kakashi’s arm that was hovering over Sakura’s torso that he was mildly let out from his depressing trance. Only to see Naruto scribbling seals upon seals that Kakashi had never seen in his life on Sakura’s pale arms with blood that Kakashi didn’t want to know who belonged to. His eyes took in the ripped pants and saw seals swirling across Sakura’s legs and he was horrified to see the few kanji he understood.

“What are you doing, Naruto?” He gasped, his throat still sore and his breathing still uneven. His eyes took in the stark red kanji written on too pale skin, ‘soul’ it meant and Kakashi knew that his knuckleheaded student was messing with something he wasn’t supposed to be messing with.

He grabbed Naruto’s wrist, momentarily stopping him from drawing additional seals and it was then Kakashi realized that the blond was shaking. For a short moment, he was amazed at how well the seals were written despite the tremors racking through Naruto’s arms. But Kakashi was a weak man, he had always been a weak man unlike Gai, and Naruto could still move his hand even with both of Kakashi’s hands pulling it down.

Blue eyes, sky eyes looked at him and it was something instinctual that made Kakashi relax his grip because these were the eyes of his student. This was Naruto, that kind loudmouth brat that the demon can't even hate. When his grip slacked, the blond shook off his grip, and Kakashi was forced to sit back and watch as Naruto kept on writing.

“I can save her.” Naruto lifted her arms to draw underneath and Kakashi had an intake of breath too quickly at his student’s words that it physically led to a sharp shoot of pains in his chest . “I can save her, Kakashi.”

When Naruto repeated his words, mouth tightlipped and face in a grim determination, Kakashi was able to find it in himself to say his next words.

“You can’t mess with the laws of nature, Naruto.” Kakashi’s eyes focused on the minuscule flinch of hands. “You can’t bring back the dead.”

“She’s not dead!” Naruto shouted at him, chest heaving and eyes red before turning to an unfamiliar shade of blue. Kakashi could see how red swirled in his orbs. Dread filled him, along with fear. Fear of losing two students today. “She’s not dead. Not yet. I can still do something.”

Naruto paused at his work, looking back at him and Kakashi willed himself to not look away and to not relax even if the eyes looking at him were blue. He was about to shout for Sasuke, for Yamato before he stopped himself. He can’t shout for Yamato now. He has no right to disturb the dead. Kakashi turned his head to his right to see Sasuke dragging himself towards them with his right hand trying to stop the blood on what was left of his left arm. His eyes were on Sakura and he was ready to shout to him for anyone that can act as backup but Naruto’s next words paralyzed him.

“ We can still do something, Kakashi-sensei.”

Sakura paused in her steps when she saw the shining object, dangling on one of the stall keeper’s wooden stands. Her right arm was carrying her basket while her left hand was holding the child of the innkeeper who was housing her.

“What is it, Sakura-nee?” The brunet asked in an annoyed tone, his hand tugging her down to his side.

Sakura let herself be pulled down, a chuckle out of her mouth before ruffling the child’s dark brown hair. He glared at her but it held no heat, unlike the first time she arrived.

“Oh nothing, I just saw something shiny.” Sakura let her hand be swatted away by the grumpy child.

“There are a lot of shiny things here, nee-san.” He grumbled, reaching out again to hold hands with her and Sakura would have squealed at his adorableness but she just smiled at him. There’s just something about the kid that made her treat him like an adult, despite the obvious childish behavior he sometimes liked to carry himself like an adult. His father had been a kind man, his wife passing away when she gave birth to Zenkichi, and Sakura had nothing but respect for the man who strived to give his son a good childhood.

So Sakura had no idea where Zenkichi’s little shit attitude came from or maybe its because he’s too spoiled when it came to his single parent and everyone praised the little runt with his blossoming skills of shipbuilding at their side of the port town.

“That there are, Momo-kun.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“But its cute,” Sakura cooed.

“I don’t like it,” Zenkichi growled. “Never mind  that, what were you really looking at earlier?”

Sakura hummed, pulling the kid nearer to the stall she saw the necklace at. The streets were noisy as always, with stall keepers shouting about their products with people bustling around. Well it was a port town, a hub for trading and money.

“Oh,” Zenkichi eyed the accessories with disdain. “jewelries. Of course, I forgot nee-san was a woman.”

Sakura let go of his hand to thwack his head, no power behind her hand. Zenkichi yelped before shielding his head from any more abuse. Sometimes, Sakura swore his fast movements would be fit for a shinobi. Most of the time, Sakura thanked every god there was that Zenkichi had a passion for traveling the sea and building ships.

“What did you say, you brat?” She said with no ire and the stall keeper laughed at their antics.

“Hello, miss! Feel free to take a look,” The old man gestured to his crafts, a beautiful array of colorful rings and earring on one side and a variety of assortment of bracelets and necklaces on the other. Zenkichi was grumbling at her side about violent women but other than that he didn’t make a fuss when she perused the items.

But her eyes kept going back to one of the ones hanging on the wooden stand.

She had seen a lot of jewelries in her travels, shiny ones, dull ones, clay ones, and metallic ones but it was the first time her breath was stolen from looking at the necklace. It was a simple necklace. It looked like it was made from a black leather cord and a crystal-shaped pendant of blue sea glass that was sandwiched between two gold bells that reminded her of her golden boy’s eyes and hair.

Try as she might to look at the other accessories her eyes kept circling back to the simple necklace and she wondered what it might mean. Obviously it reminded her of something, something she cherished but she had no idea what.

“How much for that necklace, old man?” Zenkichi’s voice startled her out of her thoughts and she turned to see the kid pointing at the necklace she’d been eyeing the entire time. ‘I was that obvious, huh.’ Sakura grimaced before putting her hand on Zenkichi’s pointing hand, all the while avoiding his pointed look, and pulled it back down. Sometimes, his dark eyes reminded her that this kid was smarter than most of his peers. 

The stall keeper chuckled before taking hold of the necklace in question. “Kind brother ya have, miss, for that I’mma happy to give ya a discount. I’d give it for two-hundred ryo.”

‘Expensive,’ Sakura mourned. She had like three hundred ryo left in her pouch, she had more in her inn, but the necklace was worth four packs of meat. ‘I don’t wear things like that anyway.’

She was about to say no, and leave lest she might actually buy it out of impulse when the sound of a bag of coins slamming the table alarmed her. Sakura whipped her head to Zenkichi’s outstretched hand and they exchanged narrowed eye stares. Sakura’s left hand was still holding his right one but the cheeky brat had used his left one to throw the bag of money.

“Keep the change,” Zenkichi said, loudly, his outstretched hand waiting for the necklace he just bought.

“Great doing business with ya,” The old man said with a smile before dropping the necklace without a care on the awaiting palm. Another customer came just in time to steal his attention. Sakura and Zenkichi was left staring at each other a little away from his stall.

“Momochi Zenkichi,” Sakura growled and she took in satisfaction at seeing the young boy flinch at her tone. “What did I say about wasting your father’s money?”

The boy slumped his shoulders, his lips in a pout that he always denied it wasn’t, before sighing.

“It wasn’t even his money,” He muttered.

“What was that?” She snapped, pulling the boy towards her when she saw a customer nearly bumping at his back. The boy tumbled towards her side, face planting at her hips and she was amazed at his sudden growth spurt. The last time she’d been here the squirt was just above her knees.

“I said it was my money!” Zenkichi said when he finally found enough stability to stand straight at her side. Sakura lost her ire and her eyes warmed at the determined look on the child’s face, a look she’d seen on many.

“That’s even worse, Momo-kun.” She sighed. “You know I have my own money, I could have bought it.”

“No you wouldn’t,” He argued. “You’re like a priestess, Sakura-nee. You don’t buy useless things.”

“That’s not true,” Sakura ruffled his hair. “I bought a novel last week.”

“You’re still so frugal,” Zenkichi swatted her hands but this time she made sure to make his hair more of a mess than usual. “Plus you don’t have that much money anyways. Why else do you have to do work for Otou-san when you could have paid for your room?”

“You little brat-” Sakura was cut off when he jutted his hand straight to her face with the necklace dangling from it.

“I heard from Otou-san,” He started quietly. “That you don’t get paid when you help people.”

‘This boy,’ Sakura kept her eyes narrowed at the boy until he started squirming uncomfortably under her stare. ‘is too adorable.’

Sakura finally let out her smile, the one she’d been holding back since Zenkichi bought the necklace, and took the necklace off his hands but he didn’t let go.

“I- I-” His face reddened before he ducked his chin into the grey scarf he always wore. Sakura almost snorted out loud, it was one of those few times Zenkichi was acting like the shy kid most of his age were. He continued quietly. “I want to put it on you.”

“Now?” She rose an eyebrow, Zenkichi looked at her eyes wide before narrowing at her teasing face.

“Yes,” He bit out. “or I’ll just throw it into the sea.”

Sakura laughed at the threat before kneeling down carefully, not caring how her grey pants became dusty at her knees. Zenkichi was quick to unlatch the necklace’s lock and placing it around her neck. His movements were quick and smooth, unlike the kids she usually taught, and he eyed the way the necklace complimented her outfit before nodding to himself.

“It's good you chose to wear dark blue for today,” Sakura stood up at his comment, dusting off her knees with her free left hand. “it makes the blue sea glass shine. Though green suits you better.”

Sakura held out her hand and the boy took it easily, they started walking their way back to the inn so that she could prepare today’s lunch meals for the rest of the occupants at the Peachy Inn.

“I’ve always liked the color blue.”

Chapter Text

The Things Unsaid

Each day, I remind myself that your smile and laughter are enough to make me stay. Stay too, my friend. Stay with me.

The ringing was painful to his ears. Hashirama smelled blood and his head hurt like he was slammed by Madara’s gunbai at point-blank. His body felt heavy and the temptation to just fall on his face was too great. His vision swayed and Hashirama realized he was leaning forward. He was sitting on some sort of ledge. His feet were firmly on the ground. Mentally bracing himself for the harsh impact against the earth, he was caught off guard when soft hands caught him by his chest.

Hashirama found the strength to open his eyes. It was like he was underwater and he had to squint to see what was happening. The ringing noise was making his ears bleed and he groaned. The sound tore against his dry throat, it was like he hadn’t drunk water for days.

Then he saw a familiar shade of petal hair and Hashirama’s heart stuttered at the sight of her. Her hair was in a messy bun and there were a few strands framing her face. Seeing the grime and dirt on her cheeks made him wince.

‘Why is she messy?’ He frowned. He willed his hand to move, to wipe off the dirt and- was that-  was that blood on her face? Alarmed, Hashirama struggled to lift his hands but they were like lead at his sides. He was hit with the realization that he couldn’t feel his body at all. He tried straining his arms, his legs, anything. They stayed unmoving. It didn’t feel like he was in his body.

“Honestly- you-! reckless-!” Sakura’s voice distracted him from his minor panic. Her voice was choppy but loud and he never saw her angry at him before. The ringing finally stopped. Hashirama really tried to hear her words but, try as he might, he can’t make most of them out. “-can’t lose you! The village-! The people-! hope- away-”

A short glance around told him he was in a tent, a very familiar one and dread swirled in his gut. A war tent. They were in a camp, and the pungent smell of herbs and charred earth wafted through his nose. Then the smell of iron and leather hit him. The instant recognition froze his insides. Burning corpses. His eyes snapped back to Sakura, and Hashirama prayed she didn’t have any injuries or felt any pain.

‘Why am I- What am I doing? Where is this?’ Panic trickled through his veins and he tried gathering his scattered thoughts. His mind was a mess, thinking of the minute possibilities of a genjutsu but he can’t even feel an ounce of his chakra. When glowing hands cupped his face, Hashirama was pulled back to see Sakura’s furrowing her eyebrows and biting her lips to the point that he feared it would bleed. He belatedly realized she was healing him. She was worried about him. He never saw her viridian eyes look so desperate and his heart swelled.  She cared about him.

“This is not your fault.” She said, voice hard as stone and eyes pooling with unshed tears. “This-”

Her other words were lost on him, garbled like she was underwater, and Hashirama wondered if he was concussed. Or if his ears were damaged. While her hands were frantically hovering across his chest and head, Hashirama noticed her clothes. ‘Strange,’ He eyed the red vest and cream skirt she was wearing. ‘I’ve never seen clothes like these. It’s- It’s scandalous.’

His ears burn at the thought but Sakura’s frowning, flushed face distracted him enough. She looked like she was about to cry as she healed him, her work was amazing. It felt strange though, because he hardly felt anything. It’s like she wasn’t doing anything to him but Hashirama saw how his muscles and skin stitched themselves back together. Maybe he’s on some kind of herb, she’d told him about it before. The herb that doesn’t let anyone feel pain.

“Stupid-! Reckless-!”

He heard and by harsh jabs of her fingers with each word he understood from her rant, Hashirama assumed she was talking about him and he felt his chest heave as he chuckled. Her jabs felt awfully strong. He must’ve done something stupid for her to be this furious at him but Hashirama still didn’t understand how things ended this way. Sakura’s eyes finally moved from his injured torso to his own eyes and the tears slowly building made his heart lurch.

His body moved on his own and the ease in which his arms rose and surrounded the frantic woman made him wonder how he couldn’t even make them budge earlier. Sakura stilled in his hug, something he’d been wanting to do since he saw her surrounded by flowers, before resisting him with halfhearted efforts all the while telling him how reckless and dumb he was in a strangled voice. She alternated from pushing him to pulling him close and for Hashirama it was enough of a reason to just pull her closer.

“Idiot!” She choked out.

She kept pounding on his chest, tiny fists hammering his already injured torso before quietly slumping onto him. He felt her shuddering breath, the quiet moment of trying to get it together, before she cried her heart out.

“I can’t lose you too,” She sobbed and Hashirama was seized in the moment. He felt his throat constrict and his heart thumping against his ribs. He could hear his blood flowing with how hyperaware he was. His mouth opened, he felt his tongue move but he couldn’t hear the words he was saying. He didn’t even know what to say but Hashirama just wanted to tell her. Tell her how much she meant to him and how he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure they would always be together.

Her tears dripped down from her face to his shoulders as she buried her head there and Hashirama gripped her as gentle as he could. He felt like he could break her like this. Easy. Tragic. That thought frightened him but he did not let go of her. He placed a hand on her back, rubbing a circle gently. She slacked against him and Hashirama was sure he was fully carrying her weight. He was sure that if he let go, she’d fall. He wanted to say something. Something like I’d never leave you or along the lines of you can’t get rid of me that easily but honestly no words could describe this consuming feeling in his chest.

So he opened his mouth only to feel the air was stolen from his lungs and he was no longer in a tent.

Hashirama felt his feet touch the ground and gravity was pulling him down heavily. Looking up, he was blinded by how bright the sky was and when his eyes finally got used to the light, he realized he was once again on a battlefield. His head turned itself to look over his shoulder. Behind him was a crater, far bigger than he’d ever seen before, and his heart stopped just from the sheer size of it. He dreaded to learn what caused it.

He turned to look in front of him and movement in his peripherals made him freeze. He was facing a crowd, but their faces were blurry to his eyes, a stark contrast with how detailed he could see of the surrounding environment. There were buildings, buildings he never saw before even in his travels, and half of them were reduced to rubbles. The trees look familiar and Hashirama felt like he’d been here before. He can’t move his head, can’t turn around to survey the rest of the area.

The crowd moved closer to him and he wanted to back up. Anxiety filled his heart when he realized he can’t call upon his trees. In fact, Hashirama couldn’t feel his nature chakra at all and it frightened him.

Then amongst the crowd, he saw a familiar shade of pink. Without thinking, Hashirama walked towards it. The crowd did not fight him, unlike his fears, but instead parted as he made his way. Hashirama did not pay them any mind, not when he saw Sakura still standing form right in the middle of them with her eyes, viridian eyes, looking straight at him. It was only when he neared her that he saw the building drops of tears on her face and it made him wonder what he did this time.

‘This- this doesn’t make sense,’ Hashirama felt his pace go faster when he saw the pink-haired woman looked like she was on the verge of choking. ‘Why is she here?’

When he finally reached her, he realized the crowd was congratulating him. There were smiles on their blurry faces and words of you did it! and thank you! could be dimly heard. He was in front of her now and Hashirama didn’t even remember the feeling of moving his legs but when she looked at him with those beryl eyes of hers he felt himself smile. His lips curved upward in a way he was familiar with.

Then she hugged him.

Not just any hugged either. She hugged him like he would crumble beneath her arms. She cradled his head softly before pulling him in. Her chin was barely reaching his shoulders as she tiptoed. His head was gently cushioned between her neck and her trembling shoulders. The fragility in which she held him made him want to break himself with all the pent-up emotions she just invoked.

Hashirama felt himself take in a shuddering breath. His throat burn. He hugged back, arms closing in on her and hands clutching her hips. A single moment of clarity, even the wind stopped to show reverence in this moment and the people surrounding them quieted down. It felt like he was in a picture with how still the world suddenly became when he hugged back and Hashirama wished the moment would last for years.

That one moment of weakness then the crowd roared. It felt like the sun was smiling with how bright and warm it felt. The sounds of cheers were deafening, and he barely understood all of the words, but the faces became clearer. Hashirama didn’t know any of them but the teary-eyed yet wide smiling, screaming people made his heart constrict.

“We did it! We did it! We survived!”

Hashirama knew what was happening just from the feel of it, the feeling of victory. The feeling of being able to live another day. He hugged Sakura tighter and her crying self made him let out a shout of his own relief and happiness. It was like she opened a gate within him and Hashirama was flooded with emotions. Happiness. Relief. Longing. He shouted it all out until he felt his throat sore. Never mind that the voice that came out from his mouth was not the familiar sound of his own.

“-Aniki, are you listening?”

Hashirama dodged the hand intending to smack his face and looked incredulously at his dear baby brother.

“You didn’t have to smack me in the face, Tobi.” Hashirama fell back to his chair with a sigh, if only to put some more distance between him and his recently annoying brother. Those damn dreams were wrecking his mind. He tried shaking it off this morning by taking a walk around the waking village but even seeing the people start their day did not calm him.

He kept seeing Sakura. He kept seeing her crying and that just wasn’t acceptable.

Hashirama didn’t know if it was because he kept thinking of her or because he can’t get her out of his mind ever since she left two months ago, and he hasn’t even heard a word about her since. Not even his eyes and ears outside the village reported any sighting of the woman, not even a whisper about her recent locations from her villages. It was frighteningly amusing to learn how tight-lipped civilians could be and how loyal they were.

“What are you thinking?” Tobirama, cool and collected as ever, shrugged off Hashirama’s half-hearted glare and he just let out another sigh. His brother could be annoying when he tried to be and Hashirama didn’t like how perceptive his red eyes were.

“It doesn’t matter,” He waved it off, as if the movement of his flapping hands could physically ward away his confusing thoughts, before pulling himself to sit properly and tap the scroll on his desk. “Just so you know I was listening. You’ve really outdone yourself with this project, Tobi.”

He offered a grin, one that was half-genuine and just half there to distract Tobirama from planning his brother’s strategies on how to get him to crack open about his surreal visions. Hashirama had successfully avoided an interrogation about how he screamed earlier that morning as he woke up,  his throat still felt raw, he avoided and danced around his brother’s a bit too invasive questions about the things he just witnessed in his mind. He wasn’t going to give Tobirama the answers he wanted just because he asked.

As expected, his brother narrowed his all-seeing red eyes at him. Hashirama understood the how-dare-you-distract-me so he focused back on the scroll he was given and, with a brush, pointed out a few things that needed focus to avoid the incoming barrage of questions.

“Great idea in choosing the land near the commercial district. I think I can find the time to lend a hand in building the foundation, to cut the spend.” He hummed, surveying the rest of the proposal. “We’re still on unsteady footing after building the civilian districts and finishing up the walls. We need to plan this on a tight budget.”

“About the walls, how are the Uzumaki seals faring?” Hashirama didn’t like the underlying tone Tobirama used. Hashirama looked at him suspiciously but his brother remained still as a statue.

“They’re doing well,” He treaded slowly, scrutinizing his brother before looking back down at the scroll. “but you should know that since you’re the only non-Uzumaki leading tactician on the seal’s array around the village. Right, otouto?”

Tobirama crossed his arms at the endearment before saying. “Have you sent feedback to that termagant?”

“Now, Tobi, that isn’t a nice way to address Mito.” Hashirama clicked his tongue. Though his brother had his nasty ruby-eyed glares and freezing aura, Tobirama was one of the most sensitive people he’d ever known. He still couldn’t wrap it around his head how his brother acted like a man with a stick up his ass. Not when during their tea time Tobirama would tell him comedic stories about recent children shenanigans with barely a smile on his face but for his brother that was as close as it was to a grin.

“I can address her whatever the hell I want.” Tobirama grumbled like the moody child he was and Hashirama looked at him, faked aghast at his words.

“Just because she called you out on one of your bastardly deeds doesn’t mean you-”

“Hashirama,” His brother growled in warning. “just answer the damn question.”

“Oh stop being so fussy,” Hashirama had to laugh, his brother could just be so easily riled up sometimes. “And no, I haven’t written to Mito about it yet. I got a bit too busy handling the influx of civilians that I haven’t been able to find the time to write her a letter about it.”

Tobirama had a weird look in his eyes that Hashirama didn’t like nor understand so he quickly said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He offered a grin, slowly raising his hands just in case his brother tried to strike him in the head. Hashirama was fast but every day that passed by made him notice how Tobirama was surpassing him, if not already. “She hasn’t bothered me about it yet.”

His white-haired sibling let out a frustrated sigh. “Just because your work doesn’t bother you yet doesn’t mean you can delay it whenever you want.”

“Don’t reduce Mito like she’s just work.” He argued but Tobirama gave him a scathing look that had Hashirama clam up. ‘Honestly,’ Hashirama groused. ‘he got all of Otou-san’s anger issues.’

“Well, isn’t she?”

“Absolutely not,” Hashirama gave him a warning look. “The Uzumaki are our friends.”

“Just friends?” Tobirama pestered and Hashirama realized what his younger brother was hinting at. It made him wonder why, of all people, was his brother hinting about it.

“I told you before. They’re family and a beloved friend of Konoha.” This time he had to look away from his brother’s invasive stare, even after living with him all these years Hashirama had never gotten used to his brother’s habit of unnervingly staring at everyone and everything.

“Then why haven’t you written up a report to our beloved friend?” Tobirama mocked and Hashirama groaned at the scolding that looked inevitable.

“Give me a break, Tobi,” He gestured to the piling papers regarding about citizen applications, the deals with the fire daimyo, and foreign business alliances before giving his brother hopefully pitiful eyes. “You know I’m already flooded with work as it is. I didn’t mean to put-off feedback regarding the seals.”

His cold-hearted brother had the gall to snort back at him for even trying to gain sympathy and Hashirama dropped the please-pity-me look. Tobirama huffed at him.

“Well, I wasn’t the one who dreamed of creating a village from scratch.” Then, as an afterthought, he said in a voice that told him of disdain but at least it wasn’t hatred and Hashirama saw that as a win. “With an enemy clan no less.”

“Don’t give me that look, Tobi.” Hashirama rubbed a hand on his face, if he could just wipe off his eyebags and the exhaustion he’d be able to pull another night in the office. “I know what I’m doing.”

That was half true. He had the plans, the strategy, the framework, and the future image of how Konoha would stand along its people. Will of fire.

Tobirama just had to use the word ‘dreamed’ of all things and Hashirama didn’t know if his brother used it intentionally to get him to fess up about his weird dream or because Konoha had been his dream for a long time.

His mind wondered back to the images he was visited by last night, the look of Sakura with grim and determination on her crying face. The sound of the people celebrating for their lives. The smell of herbs and burnt corpses. The feeling of being hugged like he was made of glass that was meant to shatter. He remembered the forest surrounding the enormous crater and wondered at the familiarity of it.

Hashirama caught the scroll that was about to slam him in the face and looked at Tobirama with disbelief and wide eyes.

“What did I literally just tell you about unnecessary violence?”

His brother raised a perfectly white curved eyebrow in return.

“You obviously don’t want to talk,” Tobirama ignored his question and cut him off from offering an explanation, or better yet a distraction, for this dreadful topic. “and grilling you about it seems to be a waste of time so I won’t even bother.”

Hashirama opened his mouth, Tobirama made it sound like he was the one who was a bother when it’s the entire opposite. He let Tobirama get away with a lot of awful things! Like that one time he stabbed Izuna in the guts and Hashirama had to protect his ass from Madara’s gunbai fan. Point is, if anyone was a bother between the two of them it would be Tobirama. He was as peaceful as an angel compared to his stab-first-talk-later brother.

“No, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” His brother cut him off again before pointedly looking at the heavy scroll he oh so casually threw at his face. Hashirama had half the thought of throwing it back to see if he’d like it but instead opted to open the scroll with enough force to tear it into two. A rough drawing of a building greeted him and Hashirama had to control the snort threatening to leave his mouth. For a grouchy old man, the detail in which his brother drew the building said nothing short of his hidden passion for drawing.

Tobirama ignored his rude behavior rather calmly and continued with his proposal. “That is the structural plan for the academy building. Proposed schedule and budget. Give me a written feedback tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, Hokage-sama,” Hashirama mocked, his brother and his lack of words sometimes grated his nerves. He noticed the faint color of pink at one of the trees located at the front yard of the academy. A cherry blossom tree? “have you thought of possible individuals for the first batch?”

“I have children in mind,” He told him like it wasn’t obvious.

“Hey, I’ve already said sorry about keeping Sakura-chan’s class a secret. Why’d you have to keep hounding me about it,” Hashirama muttered the last part as he started rolling up the scroll containing the academy’s framework.

“Because you’re a pain in the ass, Aniki.” Tobirama deadpanned, he obviously heard his words like he intended for him to. Hashirama took the chance to be dramatic, just to spite his brother who hated all his theatrics. That and because of the fact that what Tobirama said was not true.

“How could you say that to your one and only older brother?”

Tobirama frowned at him in disdain that had Hashirama more motivated to pull out all the airs.

“I built this village for you, for the children, for our family! For peace and yet you hurt me this way! I should just pack my bags and leave, since I’m oh so hated-”

“Enough,” Tobirama glowered in warning. “I’m needed somewhere else, unlike you, Aniki. Do you have anything to say with regards to the academy?”

Don’t you have something to say? He understood the silent message. His brother wanted to see if Hashirama would be smart enough to fine the “obvious” fault in his plans.

“It’s brilliant, ototo.” Hashirama said, honestly, while half making sure his cooing annoyed his brother.

Hashirama deflated at the red-eyed stare, his little brother had taken to reading his silent messages at a frighteningly high level. “But do you think that civilians would allow their children to attend?”

The idea was truly remarkable, no one would think of teaching civilian children to increase their shinobi population. Especially since the rising numbers of civilians is threatening the small numbers of shinobi that they have. However personally, Hashirama didn’t want another batch of child soldiers. He didn’t want this but Tobirama told him the necessity of it, and the reassurance that all the children will be well prepared and trained to ensure that they are able to protect themselves and others. Not like the war fodder that was the children of his clan, taught hastily and used as nothing more than distractions before the real battle.

“I think there would be willing children.” Hashirama’s heart ached at the word children with the thought of them being willing to learn the ways of killing but his mind told him it was to protect their family, it’s done for a good reason. If he thought of it enough, maybe he’d start believing it.

“That’s not what I meant, Tobi,” Hashirama sighed, twirling a brush with his right hand. “I meant would the parents allow this? We cannot take their children from them by force, whatever the young ones may think they are still under their parent’s jurisdiction.”

Hashirama could see the gears turning in his brother’s head, fast and silent. He voiced out another problem he’d been thinking.

“The funds can be handled without worry as well as the building,” He assured, after all, Hashirama had built nearly half of the infrastructures in the village with his precious technique. Singlehandedly, might he add. “However, I doubt the civilian council would agree to this integration and I don’t think the clan council would be one to easily agree to this. Despite the obvious advantage and benefits of your idea, sending their precious and ‘better’ children to train with ‘lesser’ ones would look like a waste of time when they could be learning their clan techniques.”

Hashirama peered at his brother’s unimpressed face underneath the Hokage hat. He smiled at the obvious scheme his brother wanted him to play part of. Tobirama already knew all of the things he just said, his brother just wanted to check if his Hokage brother would be smart enough to point it out. Hashirama was mildly hurt to think that Tobirama doubted his skills that much. He must be going too lenient during their training sessions.

“What’s your plan, Hashirama?” The white haired man asked like he didn’t have a plan to solve this problem himself, a plan that Hashirama had an inkling idea of even without Tobirama hinting or saying a word about it. Simplest and easiest way to show the benefits of teaching civilian children the ways of shinobi would just be to show them one. A civilian born and shinobi taught person who’s successfully making a name for herself outside their village walls. Both of them knew just the right person to bring up for the council meeting.

“My plan is your plan, Tobi,” Hashirama grinned cheekily when his brother rolled his ruby eyes at him. “I’m sure she’d love to support you in your endeavor. Sakura-chan cherishes children more than anything.”

This time, it was Tobirama who snorted before asking him haughtily just to cover up the fact that he failed to gain the upper hand with him. He was Hokage after all. But the following words slapped him like that one time Kawarama accidentally slapped his face with a fish.

“More than you?”

His little brother’s words took a second too long for it to register and he could feel his face flush red at the bratty teasing. Hashirama stood up abruptly, half because he was embarrassed and half because he was preparing to lunge at his irritating little brother. He’s going to get it.

“Tobirama, you’re so-” Just then, Hashirama was cut off when an annoyed Uchiha Madara slammed the doors of his office open, bypassing any seals he placed with raw strength alone that had him thinking of creating and replacing them with better ones.

‘Barbarians,’ Hashirama looked back to see an annoyed look flicker on his brother’s face before shifting into his usual stoic mask.  He reigned in his earlier frustration and embarrassment to just sit back down. He’s exhausted. ‘I’m surrounded by barbarians.’

“If I’m ever going to be sent to that noodle town again, I’m going to beat your face, Hashirama.” Was the first thing Madara growled at him and Hashirama’s brain faltered when he said noodle town because he was sure the only place he sent the Uchiha clan head, of all people, was- oh.

“What is it with you both being so rude to the Uzuamki,” Hashirama pointedly stared at opposite men standing in front of his desk, who were shooting glares at one another. “and taking your anger on my face? Savages, the both of you.”

Madara huffed, cutting off the intense glaring session with his brother, before throwing a scroll and a piece of paper with the precision of aiming a kunai at him. Hashirama caught both in one hand without a flinch but he felt a nerve throb at the thought of additional work as well as the fact that people kept throwing things at his face.

“That hellion sent a missive, I don’t know nor do I care about its content. The other one is a letter from Sakura,” Hashirama felt his heart freeze at the name and dropped, what he now realized to be, an envelope to his desk like it burned him. Truthfully, he let go of it because he didn’t want to accidentally crumple it with his tight grip. The Uchiha turned to his brother and Hashirama knew Madara long enough to know he was both amused and annoyed at Tobirama’s insufferably unnerving stare back. “surprisingly, she also sent one for you.”

“Uchiha.” Tobirama warned with a dirty look and Madara laughed at his brother’s face, not seeing it threatening at all.

“Cease your kitten faces, Senju,” His long time friend drawled, a hand going in his kimono almost lazily. “You and I both know I said nothing wrong.”

His brother didn’t bother to deign Madara the response the Uchiha had been provoking out of him. Hashirama glanced from Tobirama to his longtime friend before musing. ’They’re getting along well.’

He knew those ‘crazy’ dinners, as Tobirama liked to call it, were working.

Silence stretched in the room and Hashirama felt sweat dripped down from his forehead. The temptation to kick both savages out was becoming more and more tempting with each passing second. Thankfully, when it looked like Tobirama wasn’t budging an inch, Madara clucked his tongue before messily tossed an envelope to his brother that would look like it would go over Tobirama’s head if not for his quick reflexes.

“Sake?” Madara asked and Hashirama didn’t know what tremendous sin he committed in his past life to suffer with short worded sentences over the majority of this life from two of his most precious people.

“From Kokumotsu.” It was a favorite of theirs and it had been awhile since they went drinking. Madara had been gone for a mission in Uzushio for over a month now. Hashirama also knew that Madara wouldn’t give him his report on said mission without the sake.

“Tonight, then.” Without waiting for his reply, Madara turned his back and left.

‘I bet he’s going to rant about her again,’ Hashirama groaned into his hands. ‘I don’t want to hear about how insufferable Mito is for two hours straight. Again. He should just propose and get this farce over with.’

Because as much as Madara hated being sent to whirlpool, it was Mito who kept sending him personal letters via the falcon Madara grudgingly gave to her four years ago. Letters bodily threatening him to send her the Uchiha clan head or else she’d march into the village on her own two feet.

He could agree with Madara and his unsaid words on how terrifying Mito can be when she wanted to.

Then he felt a familiar cold stare prickle his hair, Hashirama lifted his head to see Tobirama still looking at him with those unsettling eyes of his. An excellent idea came to his mind at the sight of his wonderful brother but when Hashirama moved to opened his mouth, Tobirama was faster.

“Do not even think about it,” He said, tucking the letter safely into his own kimono that had a question form on Hashirama’s tongue with how soft his movements were unlike the casual, brusque motion of his handling with documents. Like how Tobirama kept throwing scrolls at him. “I want no part of this drama.”

By the end of his sentence, his office door slammed shut on him. What was it and people being so rude to him, he was Hokage! He was supposed to be respected, dammit yet here’s his little brother slamming doors on his face and his best friend leaving without even letting him speak.

Another sigh escaped his lips and he tiredly run over his fingers in the tangles of his hair. Surveying the leftover work on his desk before his eyes caught the innocuous envelop lying unbalanced on his discarded brush. His hands moved with frantic speed to check if any ink got splattered on the thing and he sagged in his chair in relief when Hashirama saw the letter is still left untouched.

His thoughts travelled to the days during her stay, of the laughter they shared and how her eyes utterly shined whenever she took in the sight of Konoha bustling about with her people. Hashirama remembered the snow in her hair, his fingers flexed at the memory of him dusting the cold white of her petal locks. The grateful smile she showed him that made his insides melt.

Hashirama remembered the knowing look she exchanged with the Uchiha brothers and how cozy they were together and the feeling of the burning sensation underneath his ribs rising and bubbling just beneath his skin.

He remembered the dinners they shared, the way sight of her sweeping the garden grounds, the sway of her hips as they walk Senju halls, the soft hum in her steps whenever she was in the compound. Hashirama remembered looking at her wearing his clan aprons and their clan colors with the kimono they gave her and how much she belonged in his house. Though the kimono did not bear his clan symbol, the way her petal hair matched the greenness of his garden was enough symbolism.

Then he remembered her spar with Izuna and how ugly he felt the following days.

He had tried to avoid her the days after, so that she couldn’t see how hideous he felt and maybe he could have regain some sort of control of himself. He didn’t want to do anything he’d regret, especially to Sakura. Izuna had nearly died by his brother’s hands, a tiny part of his heart wished he had, and Hashirama did not want to trouble the burgeoning relationship between the Uchiha and his village.

So he had tried avoiding her, keyword being tried.

Obviously, Sakura hadn’t been aware of his plans because after one day of avoiding her she appeared in the village streets for the first time with bento in hand right in front of his building.

Rationality had flown out of the window so damn fast and so did he, just not through the window, but through the door as soon as he felt her chakra. Her cool, mint green chakra calmly, nervously flickering just outside the building.

His heart floundered at the sight of her and maybe even a day without seeing her was a day too long when she was just in their house in the compound. Words wanted to stumble outside his mouth, half made excuses and a whole hearted sorry, but his slow, composed gait stopped when her eyes focused at his being. He was riveted by her forest eyes.

The atmosphere changed in that moment, something entered the air, something different and his tongue had tasted ozone. It was like a he swallowed fire just by looking at her.

The exasperated look she gave him before lifting the bento in an obvious gesture of i-brought-food-for-you had captured him so effortlessly that Hashirama had felt his legs run to her and his arms pulled her in a tight hug in one rapid and fluid movement that his mind hadn’t caught up to what he had just done.

She squawked when he lifted her up. Her wooden slippers slid of her feet with a thud. Her hands had frantically grabbed his shoulders in an effort to steady herself. Hashirama noticed the way she froze in his arms and his heart cracked but he still kept his arms around her.

She wasn’t pushing him away so he didn’t let go.

Honestly he didn’t know if he’d let go even if she did.

He relished in the familiar feeling of hugging her and carrying her, despite it being his first time.that he didn’t paid attention to it. The feeling of her breathing and of her warmth between his arms felt so right.

Then he noticed the people staring with knowing smiles on their faces and Hashirama blushed but the grin on his face was so hard to wipe off it felt like it was permanently plastered to his mouth. Sakura then belatedly realized the growing crowd they were attracting. Her face flushed like a tomato before smacking him on the shoulders, furiously whispering how inappropriate and wrong his actions were being.

The moment would even feel more complete if she called him idiot.

But she didn’t and Hashirama wondered at the empty feeling in his chest. Still, she looked ready to die from embarrassment when he didn’t budge.

Of course he loved it because she was paying attention to him and the crowd had called out to them with congratulations and jokes that had him laughing and Sakura blushing. Her face had been as red as Mito’s hair.

It was an adorable sight.

But what came after had caught him the most, when the crowd dissipated with smiles and laughter, and she smiled at him so shyly, innocently that Hashirama was hit with an overwhelming thought that he was coveting something he shouldn’t have. His body had quivered at the idea of sin when he knew for a fact Sakura was a free woman, as free as the wind.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

The realization that the hug did not impede their friendship in any way made him want to hug her again. Surprisingly, in the privacy of his office, Sakura had let him hug her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

“Yes,” He replied because he felt that if he answered otherwise, she wouldn’t be so compliant with his too friendly touch.

She let him hug her all he wanted and Hashirama had an inkling feeling of hope take root between his lungs when she laid her head softly on chest. He remembered his dream that morning. He marveled at the accuracy of the dream’s portrayal of how soft Sakura was.

However there was hesitation in her eyes, the doubt in her movements, but Hashirama made sure to distract her from them by asking her about her day, by making it feel like this was an everyday occurrence. By making it seem like it was normal for them to be that intimate, to be that close because to him holding her was right. Holding her like she was his lifeline.

Hashirama didn’t know what came over him.

When Sakura finally left to return home, Hashirama couldn’t find it in himself to walk her back to the compound. It felt like his body was not his own and he feared what he was capable of. She left with a smile and the empty bento.

“I have no self-control.” He told himself in the privacy of his office.

That was quite terrifying to accept and he had zero plans on how to solve it. He prayed, for the first time in a long time, for Kami to have mercy on him.

Hashirama eyed the letter again and he told his heart to stay still enough for him to carefully open the letter and read it. He was confused as to how Madara had gotten a hold of this, and wondered if that Uchiha and his brother received letters too. A tiny part of him wished, lately he’d been doing a lot of wishing, she didn’t send any letters to anyone but him.

Hello, dear friend,

Hashirama, I kept my promise. I hope this letter finds you safe and well.

I’m currently in Water country, and its name does not disappoint. I came because I heard news of the terrible sickness spreading through the villages. The severity was horrible, Hashirama, especially when it could’ve been easily avoided. Post-Winter Flu had always been a pain and I remembered that time yeas ago when I, too, had been inflicted with it. It was awful and my friend had to do all sorts of things just to keep me in a good mood. He gave me a lot of sweets. Speaking of sweets, I saw a lot of weird ones here. Like this one bread shaped like a fish but had some sort of bean paste inside, it was delicious! I was half-expecting it to be filled with fish meat but I enjoyed the pleasant surprise. I wish I could share some with you the next time we meet….

“You’re a lunatic,” Madara wheezed, avoiding a strike of Hashirama’s sword. “how are you still laughing?”

“What do you mean?” The idiot Senju laughed and Madara just wanted to skewer him once and for all. Hashirama bent backwards to avoid his sword stabbing his sternum and doing a backflip that nearly kicked him in the face if he wasn’t so quick to step back. The brunet grinned at him when he landed a distance away from him and exclaimed with a sword pointed at him. “We haven’t been going for that long!”

Gritting his teeth, Madara quickly followed the idiot with a flurry of slashes. To his growing ire, his friend was able to parry every swing with his own sword. Hashirama had the gall to grin at him again and he was irritated at the feeling of the drying sweat on his forehead. ‘I’m done with this twit.’

“It’s been five hours, you fool!” He swung his sword down, heavy with intent to cleave. Instead of dodging, Hashirama blocked it with a sword of his own. Stupid move. A smirk emerged from his lips when the Senju’s sword threateningly creaked under the strength bearing down at him. Hashirama gulped, hearing the same thing he had heard, before letting out a chuckle that had him pushing down harder.

“We’ve waged battles longer than this!” Hashirama argued, putting power on his legs to push him back, with some effort. Madara pushed down harder, just to get his point across, before jumping back. Seeing Hashirama stand up, swords raised in defense, Madara was quick to throw his sword at the annoyance. However his aim had been towards the training dummy behind his idiotic friend. The katana fully went through the worn wooden training post and Hashirama had turned around to see what he hit, while touching his right ear which had been dangerously close to the katana as it hit the dummy.

“I just got back from a mission,” Madara glowered at the memory of an annoying redhead. “and I can’t handle any of your crap right now. Go look for your brother if you want to decimate a person.”

“You threw your sword at me. Oh my lord it went through…” He saw Hashirama eye the impaled training post with disbelief before looking back at him with another annoying grin on his face, his right hand leaving his perfectly fine right ear.. If Madara had wanted him to bleed, he’d bleed. “Not that you’ve never done that before but it’s still frightening to experience.”

“I wasn’t aiming at you.” He huffed before turning to walk back to the main house where it was cool and less blinding than the fields under the sun where Hashirama shined like a fucking star.

“Oh come on, Madara,” He heard Hashirama walk to the wooden post to retrieve his sword before shouting back at him. His friend pulled the sword out effortlessly with one hand and Madara was reminded that this idiot Senju was one of the only people who can match with him in a spar and on the battlefield. Even his own baby brother can’t pull out one of his swords when he embedded them in one of the poles. “It’s already been two days since you got back!”

“No, Hashirama. I’ve wasted enough of my time babysitting you.” ‘This annoying lovestruck idiot.’ Madara grimaced before turning back to the veranda to splash himself with water from the basin one of his servants was smart enough to prepare. The cool feeling made him feel refresh and less likely to pierce his annoying, babbling friend with another sword.

“If anything, Madara, I’m the one doing all the babysitting since I’m Hokage.” The idiot joked before dropping their swords softly on the wooden floor. Hashirama offered him a white towel, he had no idea where the idiot got it but it looked clean enough, and he took it without a word. While drying his face, he heard splashing sounds that indicated Hashirama also started cleaning himself.

‘Thank Kami,’ Madara sighed before sitting down with a thud besides their swords, not bothering to hand a towel to the brunet because he was sure the Hokage could take care of himself. ‘I thought he’d pester me for a taijutsu round.’

“Well since you’re so busy being the Hokage, why are you here?” Because he had been expecting peace and quiet for at least the first week of his return but no, apparently the gods have cursed him with loudmouthed annoyances anywhere he went. He just escaped the redhead’s deadly drivels only to return home to his local idiot’s nonsense.

“Do I need a reason to visit a friend?” He gave Hashirama the most unimpressed stare he could muster, which was easy enough with his past experiences in handling this giant man baby. The brunet avoided his look, predictable, and sat himself down on the other side of their swords with a flustered face.

Madara rolled his eyes, already tired just by expecting the rant that was about to come. He’d been expecting it as soon as the Senju came unannounced and loudly demanding a spar. He knew Hashirama was delaying the real reason he came for him. He only went along with that spars just so he could land a hit on the idiot without being charged with treason. ‘This had Sakura’s letter written all over it.’

“Okay, okay, honestly I just wanted to let out some steam and talk-”

“You have a brother for that.”

“I said I wanted to let out some steam, not participate in a drown or be drowned struggle that would doubtlessly end in a scolding session.” Madara snorted, one of the only things he would ever consider to be a respectable character of that ice-block was his tenacity in keeping Hashirama in his office and making sure all his Hokage paperwork were done.

“So you’ve been neglecting your duties again.” Madara ignored the upset look directed his way by surveying the damages done to his backyard. Thankfully, they didn’t do that much destruction this time because Hashirama wanted to practice more on his speed with kenjutsu and he just wanted to stab the brunet at least once. He had only been able to land a graze on the Senju’s upper arm but that was saying something since Hashirama hadn’t even touched him with the sword.

“No, I haven’t. In fact, I’ve been doing my job perfectly well.” Hashirama huffed, wringing the towel he used to wipe his face. “You and Tobi are just so mean all the time when I just want to take a break. I don’t get what Mito sees in you.”

That was not the can of worms Madara ever wanted to open.

“Shut up,” He growled at the snickering twat.

“Seriously, Madara-”

“Choose your next words carefully,” He warned, willing his ears to stop burning at the name of the redhead. “do not forget you are in my territory.”

“Can’t you take a joke, Madara?”

“Just say what you need to say and leave me be.” He grumbled, all the while thinking of the inarizushi he could have been enjoying right now if it weren’t for this brown eyed intruder.

“Stick in the mud,” He heard the idiot mutter and Madara didn’t know if Hashirama was truly an idiot or he intended to let him hear it because, apparently, his goal for today was to get under his nerves. Then the idiot had the gall to deflate all of the sudden like there was a war on the horizon and he just can’t keep up with how fast his friend’s moods were changing.

“I just-” The Senju let out a sigh before familiar annoying look took over his face. Madara inwardly readied himself because he only saw that level of determination when Hashirama had his sight on Konoha’s creation. “Okay. You and I both know that Tobirama has an emotional spectrum of an ice bucket—”

“That is a terrible insult to ice buckets everywhere,” Hashirama looked at him with mild annoyance for his interruption but Madara was getting tired just by hearing him talk about things he already knew. Hashirama could put up with his sass, it was his choice to come to him of all people for a talk that no doubt involved that letter he was rudely demanded to deliver two days ago. Hashirama nonetheless continued, eyes accusing him of being a little shit to which Madara will never admit.

“But you aren’t honestly any better and I really can’t talk with your brother for more than ten seconds without wanting to strangle him.” He snorted at that, this pacifist rarely displayed his anger through violence but it was hilarious when he does. So far, his brother had been the most successful one to royally piss of the nature-loving Senju. Though, Izuna only annoyed Hashirama because of his obvious liking to his pink haired savior. As much as Madara kept calling him idiot, his friend should be smart enough to know when Izuna was just messing with him.

“And you are one of my closest and trusted friend, Madara.”

“Can’t you just get on with it?”

“I was being sincere, you crow.” He rolled his eyes at the pathetic attempt of an insult. Hashirama frowned at him before looking back to the field they were previously sparring at. He was almost fidgeting and Madara inwardly cringed at the sight. “I just wanted to ask if Sakura… sent you letters as well.”

“And if she did?” Madara stood up on the veranda, planning to further irritate the crap out of Hashirama and also to get the flask of water on the table that was behind them. He felt the brunet stand up and hastily yet silently dog his steps. He sat himself down by the chabudai and Hashirama was quick to sit across him.

“Really? What did she say?” Madara ignored the question for a few seconds by drinking from the wooden flask his servants prepared. All the while giving Hashirama one of his why-do-you-care stares that the brunet was well acquainted with because of his incurable habit of always caring way too much for it to be healthy.

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Madara,” Hashirama practically hissed and Madara wanted to bask in the triumph of successfully turning the table of the annoying and the annoyance. “you’re not helping me, at all.”

“Should I?”

“Do you have any idea how many letters Mito sent regarding you?” Madara chucked the wooden flask at him instinctively, and for a quick moment he wondered if he’d be trialed for treason for damaging the Hokage’s face, but the idiot easily caught it with one hand. He scowled at the unimpressed brunet. This was a topic he did not want to hear from Hashirama of all people.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then just tell me what Sakura-chan wrote to you!” Hashirama whined before setting down the wooden flask back on the chabudai like it wasn’t aimed at his head earlier.

Madara growled when brown eyes looked at him like they were knives poised at his neck. This was what he get for being a good friend. “Nothing of importance, that’s for sure.”

“What did she draw on your letter?”

“What drawing?” Immediately, Madara regretted the words that came out of his mouth when Hashirama’s eyes lit up like the fire Izuna once ‘accidentally’ set in his room. Both of them evidently realizing Hashirama’s letter was something “special” because of some stupid doodles.

“She drew a tree and a flower on mine,” The idiot beamed at the mere thought of a piece of parchment and Madara was just disgusted. Disgusted and blinded at the same time. The topic was horrible and he absolutely wanted no part in this. “I wish she’d visit soon.”

Madara looked heavenward in a silent prayer he never had even once done before. He looked at his friend. Three months ago he would have been amused at the obviously daydreaming look Hashirama, usually ever present and lowkey hyperaware of everything, had on his face as he stared down at the wooden flask. It got sickening real quick after continuously seeing it every time this fool decided to invade his home.

“Didn’t she say about coming back by the end of spring?”

“So she did tell you something important?”

“Oh stop moping,” Madara threw another flask at him, this one being the water flask prepared for the idiot, with the same intent of hitting his head but Hashirama caught it without a flinch as well. While thinking of using more strength for his next throw, Madara continued. “You and I both know she keeps her promises. She’ll visit when she said she will.”

Hashirama sulked as he opened the flask to drink. It was like looking at a child. Madara crossed his arms before looking at his right, towards the field they fought on. There had been this niggling thought at the back of his head ever since he returned. It felt like he was forgetting something. Then this damn idiot had to barged in after breakfast and demanded a continuous set of spars that he kept forgetting the thought at the back of his head.

He wasn’t even able to enjoy the spars because of how energetic and quick footed Hashirama was during their spar. It was more like the Senju pranced around the field while he chased him with his sword or his fists.

The growing pink flowers at the edge of the field caught his eye, and the sight instinctively made him loose some of his tension. It was Sakura’s idea to plant those. Though he had no idea what reason moved her to do so since this was not a garden but a training field that was meant to be damaged at some point. He actually half-forgot them with how hectic things were and it was surprising to see them easily thriving in the wild.

Madara glanced at the suddenly serious aura permeating and saw the Senju staring at the wooden flask in his hands with a perturbing stare he’d usually see on the other Senju brother. Hashirama was finally quiet across from him but no doubt the idiot was overthinking things again. He had honestly no idea how this idiot could run his mouth and body with so much cringeworthy enthusiasm throughout the day when he barely slept at night.

It was a pitiful time when he discovered his friend’s insomnia.

The thought of sleepless nights made his eyes flicker back to the growing pink and white flowers dotting the field’s edge, almost hidden by the bushes surrounding it. Sakura had mentioned it being used for tea, good for the mind she said. He frowned at the memory of the petal haired woman preparing him smelly tea that had him recoiling. He took one sip of it, just to please the stubborn woman, before and spat it out without thinking.

It was just too… flowery for him and Sakura nearly punched him in the gut for his lack of appreciation.

‘I think it’s called tsubaki,’ Madara mused, letting his mind wander. ‘Sakura said it was abundant in one of the villages she stayed at with that student of hers. What was his name again? Seigo? Seiji? Yeah, the little runt that kept dogging her steps.’

He casted a look at his friend, calmly drinking water, and thought of the disaster that would no doubt occur if that student of hers and he were to meet. Now that he thought about it, both of these two brunets were uncannily similar in more ways than one. It would be awful if they became friends but with Hashirama’s current adoration that scenario would be highly unlikely. The brunet felt his stare and glanced at him with a questioning look.

“What?” Hashirama asked, half-defensive and half-distracted, him.

‘No. Not my problem. That ice-block could handle it by himself.’  Madara debated on whether or not to warn the idiot before settling on the most peaceful route. “Nothing.”

“That irritated look of yours didn’t look like it was nothing,” Hashirama gestured the bottle towards his face. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if that irritated look of yours became permanent with how much you frown daily.”

Just as Madara was contemplating on whether or not to chuck another object, heavier and sharper, at the laughing brunet or get sake to drink with on this lazy day the shoji doors suddenly opened. Hashirama’s mood instantly soured at the sight of Izuna but Madara was more worried with the annoyed look his little brother was sporting. So he did forget something.

“Anija, did I not remind you of the meeting with the healer today?” Izuna walked over the table with heavy steps. Madara did not know of such meeting, much less remember the date.

“What healer?” I don’t recall any of this. Izuna raised an eyebrow at his silent message, as if asking if he truly forgot about the scheduling a healer for the clan or if he was bullshitting him again. Madara honestly couldn’t recall anything involving a healer, they were mostly reclusive after all. Meanwhile, Hashirama decided to ignore the new yet local intruder by drinking more water.

“The one Sakura-chan suggested,” Stupid aniki he could practically hear his brother’s thoughts but Madara was seized with uneasiness just by hearing the pink haired hellion’s name. He wasn’t given the chance to respond as his little brother took lead in the one-sided conversation. Sometimes, it was frustrating to know Izuna had inherited their mother’s persistent attitude. Sometimes, Madara just wanted some peace and quiet. Hashirama had the nerve to look amused at the sight of him being nagged.

“I already gave him the tour of the compound, he’ll be staying for three weeks as was promised. He asked for a short briefing with you so I led him here.” Then Izuna turned back to the hallway he just entered from and called a name he was just guessing about earlier. One look at the frozen face of his friend had dread dropped in his stomach in knowing he would be the one Hashirama would annoy after this meeting. “Seijou-san, you can come in now!”

Another brunet showed up with a confident smile plastered on his face, ready to offer his medical services, he felt like an idiot with how things were playing out. Madara wisely pretended to not hear the cracking of one of the wooden flasks.