Chapter Text
Chapter 3: Arrival
Sakura woke to a strange grunting sound.
She cracked one eye open, blinking against the bright sunlight filtering through the trees above. A gentle breeze stirred the air, bringing with it the crisp scent of early morning—dry grass, faint campfire smoke, and something savory. Shafts of light pierced through the canopy overhead, warming her cheeks as birds chirped lazily from the branches.
The clearing buzzed with quiet activity. Shinobi were already moving around, packing up bedrolls and equipment, murmuring to one another as they prepared for the long journey back to Suna. Leaves crunched under boots. Metal clinked as gear was strapped down. The crackle of dying embers drifted from the remains of the campfire.
How long was I asleep?
Sakura opened her other eye and slowly sat up, wincing as her back protested. Her sleeping bag had been rolled out over uneven ground, and the imprint of a rock still pressed into her shoulder. A soft breeze teased her hair, which was definitely a disaster, and her lips felt chapped from the dry night air.
“Good morning, Snoozie Pants,” Kakashi called from above.
She tilted her head and spotted him sitting on a low-hanging tree branch, one knee bent, Icha Icha Tactics propped casually in one hand.
“Ugh... morning, Sensei,” Sakura muttered, stretching her arms until her joints cracked. “What time is it? Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because you needed the rest,” he replied easily, not even glancing down from the page.
Sakura groaned as she continued stretching, rolling her shoulders and wiggling her toes back into circulation. “Okay, fair. But what’s with the weird grunting?”
“That weird grunting just now? That was you,” Kakashi said without missing a beat.
Sakura blinked, then glared up at him. “Charming.”
He shrugged.
“The other, much louder grunting? That would be Guy and Lee. They’ve been up since before sunrise. Morning push-up contest. Hour three, I believe.”
Sakura turned toward the edge of the clearing where two very loud voices echoed through the forest. Sure enough, Guy and Lee were fully engaged in what appeared to be a shouting match about youth —between their push-ups, of course.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered.
“Oh, and Naruto saved you some food. He’s with the Kazekage.”
She blinked. “He is?”
“Mmhmm. You should wash up and eat. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Will do, Sensei.”
Sakura slowly climbed out of her sleeping bag, the morning air cool against her skin. She packed her gear quickly, fingers moving on autopilot as she listened to the rustle of leaves and the distant rhythm of push-ups and declarations of eternal spirit. Her limbs still ached faintly, but it was a good ache—proof that she hadn’t broken under the pressure of the last few days.
Once her bag was rolled and secured, she stepped away from the others and crouched near a small creek at the clearing’s edge. The water was icy, and she gasped when it touched her skin—but it helped.
She splashed her face, scrubbed the grit from beneath her eyes, and smoothed down her unruly hair with wet fingers. The cold shocked her system just enough to jolt her fully awake.
Back at the fire pit, the last coals still glowed faintly beneath a layer of ash. A wrapped bento sat neatly on a flat rock near her gear—clearly left by Naruto. She sat down cross-legged in the dirt and unwrapped it gratefully.
Warm rice, dried fish, and what looked like half a hard-boiled egg. It wasn’t fancy, but it smelled like heaven.
Her stomach growled as she took the first bite. The rice was slightly overcooked and the fish dry—but it was food. Real food. She chewed slowly, savoring the salt and warmth, then shoveled in another bite.
By the time she finished, her mood had lifted. The sun had risen higher, painting the leaves gold and catching on the tips of the Kazekage’s red hair across the clearing. He stood near Naruto, their conversation quiet and mostly one-sided—but peaceful.
Sakura cleaned up her bento, brushed rice crumbs from her lap, and stood, brushing dirt from her pants.
The team had already begun to form up for departure. Temari led at the front with two Suna shinobi. Naruto walked alongside Gaara, occasionally gesturing with animated hands. Sakura fell into step at the back with Lee, while Guy, Kakashi, Neji, Tenten, and several other shinobi made up the center ranks. Suna’s ANBU patrolled the perimeter, their silent silhouettes ghosting through the trees.
Despite the heavy days behind them, the mood was surprisingly light.
Shinobi chatted quietly. Temari looked focused but at ease. Even Neji had allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.
Well... except for Kakashi.
His chakra still hadn’t recovered, which meant he was slung across Guy’s back like a sack of potatoes—face buried in one arm, likely trying to disassociate from reality.
As Sakura passed them, she couldn’t help herself.
She smirked. “Rough morning?”
“Don’t,” Kakashi muttered without lifting his head. “Just… don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she replied sweetly. “Yet.”
—--------------------------------
Recap
Guy: “Kakashi, my eternal rival! It appears your chakra has been depleted! Fear not—for I, Maito Guy, shall carry you piggyback style to safety!”
Kakashi: “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Guy, but I’m not a damsel in distress. I can walk.”
Guy: “Nonsense! A true ninja knows when to accept help from his comrades! Besides, this is a perfect opportunity to strengthen our bond as brothers-in-arms!”
Kakashi (deadpan): “I don’t think I need that kind of bonding, Guy.”
Guy (grinning): “Come now! It'll be just like the old days—remember when we used to race each other through the woods on piggyback?”
Kakashi (frowning behind the mask): “I don't remember that. At all.”
Guy: “Then it’s never too late to make new memories! Hop on!”
Kakashi (sighing): “Fine. But if anyone sees us like this, I’m never hearing the end of it.”
Guy: “Ha! Let them talk! Our youthful bond is unshakable!”
Kakashi: “Just don’t drop me, Guy.”
Guy (striking a dramatic pose): “I would sooner cut off my own leg than let you fall, Kakashi! Now—let’s go!”
End of recap
—--------------------------
Lee was running next to Sakura, and it seemed his morning training had done more than raise his energy—it had also dialed his flirt settings to maximum, much to the visible amusement of Neji and Tenten trailing behind.
“Sakura, my beautiful blossom!” Lee declared as they bounded from branch to branch, sunlight flickering across their path. “As we journey together, I can’t help but feel my heart racing like the wind in our hair!”
Sakura blinked. “Uh… thanks, Lee. But we’re just traveling together as teammates.”
“Ah, but a true ninja knows that the journey is just as important as the destination! And spending time with you, Sakura, has made this journey all the more enjoyable ,” Lee said, eyes sparkling with sincerity so intense it almost glowed.
Sakura glanced around. Yes. Everyone could hear this.
“That’s very sweet, Lee,” she said, cheeks starting to heat. “But you don’t have to go out of your way to say things like that.”
“Nonsense!” Lee cried, hands balling into youthful fists. “A gentleman must always express his feelings to the lady who has captured his heart! And my heart—” he clutched his chest with dramatic flair, “—is a raging inferno when I’m near you!”
Now fully blushing, Sakura groaned under her breath. “Lee, you’re making me blush. Don’t you think we should focus on the mission?”
“Of course, Sakura!” Lee said immediately, straightening up with heroic dignity. “Duty and honor always come first. But that does not mean we cannot enjoy each other’s company along the way. And who knows? Perhaps, once this mission is complete... we may gaze upon the stars together and let fate guide our hearts.”
Sakura stared at him for a long moment. “Lee… you’re really something else.”
Behind them, Neji pinched the bridge of his nose while Tenten openly snickered.
And then, just to make sure everyone was involved:
“OI, Bushy Brows!” Naruto shouted over his shoulder. “Stop flirting with my Sakura-chan!”
Now every single head in their traveling formation turned toward her.
Sakura sighed internally. Could this get more humiliating?
X
After nearly three hours of travel, they finally reached the edge of the desert.
Sakura squinted at the landscape stretching before them—endless dunes undulating like waves beneath the burning sky.
“Wow,” she murmured, awed by the sheer vastness. “No matter how many times I see it, it always manages to amaze me.”
Temari smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Suna might not have Konoha’s forests, but the desert has its own kind of beauty.”
As they pressed forward, the sun bore down on them mercilessly, and the wind picked up grit that stung their eyes and faces.
Sakura lifted her hand to shield her eyes, blinking against the sand. Despite the heat, her thoughts kept drifting—back to the Kazekage, and that strange, sudden vision of blood.
What had that been? A panic attack? A hallucination? Genjutsu? Whatever it was, she'd made a fool of herself right in front of him. And of course, he hadn’t shown a single hint of surprise—just stood there.
Pretty sure he thinks I’m unwell. Mentally, emotionally, possibly spiritually.
Sakura pushed the thought away and focused on her footing. The sand shifted beneath each step, making the trek exhausting. She distracted herself by replaying the fight against Sasori in her mind. Chiyo’s puppetry had made her feel ten steps ahead—but without it, she’d have been too slow, clumsy. Vulnerable.
If she wanted to stand on her own next time, that had to change.
“Hey, Lee,” she said, turning to him. “When we get back to Konoha, want to train together?”
Lee practically lit up. “Of course, Sakura-san! The fires of youth shall guide us!”
“Perfect,” she said. “Bring your fire. I’ll bring bandages.”
They kept moving until Guy and Kakashi caught up from behind— well, Guy did. Kakashi was draped over his back like a discarded futon, apparently half-asleep.
Sakura blinked. “...Is Kakashi-sensei napping ?”
Guy beamed. “Sakura-chan! I’m thrilled to hear you’ll be training with us! We’ll awaken your inner fire through sweat and perseverance!”
“Lee!” he shouted suddenly, “we’ll run two laps around Suna to celebrate this joyous news!”
Sakura’s stomach dropped.
“And Sakura-chan,” Guy beamed, “you’ll look fantastic in green!”
A bead of sweat slid down her temple. Absolutely not. Her mind conjured a horrifying image—herself in a matching green jumpsuit, standing between Guy and Lee like a walking vegetable.
She laughed, waving her hands. “Thanks, Guy-sensei, but I think I’ll stick to my own clothes.”
She glanced down at her current gear—still mostly intact. “Besides, I’ve got another set at home that isn’t shredded.”
Guy looked at her with a serious expression. "You know, Sakura-chan, there is something to be said for the power of the green jumpsuit. Its vibrant color represents the exuberance of youthfulness and the unyielding spirit of hard work!"
Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Does it, now?”
Guy nodded solemnly. “Indeed! And I believe that with its help, you could unlock your truest potential.”
She chuckled. “Tempting. But I think I’ll keep relying on hard for now.”
Guy sighed, theatrically crestfallen. “Very well… But the offer stands!”
Sakura smiled, warmed by their enthusiasm. “Thank you, Guy-sensei. And you too, Lee. I really am looking forward to it.”
Lee gave her a sparkling thumbs-up. “Right back at you, my beautiful Blossom!”
X
After hours of walking, they finally reached a large dune that offered some much-needed shade.
Sakura trudged wearily across the sand, her feet dragging through the dust. Her calves ached, her lower back screamed, and her clothes were torn in more places than she cared to count. Sweat clung to her skin, sticky and stinging, and her hair—gods, her hair—was a matted disaster of dirt and damp strands glued to her forehead.
All she could think about was a shower. A long, steaming, blessed shower.
She could almost feel the hot water cascading down her skin, washing away the grime of battle, sand, and emotional wreckage.
We’re almost home. Just a bit more, and then—
YOU MIGHT HAVE A HEATSTROKE. WE’RE NOT GOING BACK TO KONOHA—WE’RE HEADING TO SUNA.
Sakura halted in her tracks.
...Oh. Right. You’re correct. Well— she resumed walking —I don’t care. At this point, any water source that doesn’t involve sand in my underwear will do.
The group stopped to rest beneath the shade of the dune, and Sakura gratefully dropped onto the sand, her muscles buzzing with fatigue.
The heat shimmered in the air like waves, distorting the edges of the horizon. The dunes stretched endlessly around them, golden and merciless.
She unscrewed her canteen and took a careful sip, savoring the tepid water as if it were the elixir of life. Around her, the others gathered in a loose circle—passing water, eating rations, swapping stories.
Temari was speaking, her voice low and steady. Sakura tuned in just enough to hear her filling the Kazekage in on everything he’d missed.
“…Kankuro was poisoned. We couldn’t treat him. No one in the hospital had the skill, and we didn’t know how much time he had left.”
Gaara didn’t interrupt. He simply listened, his expression cold.
Before Temari could continue, Hataro approached and gave a respectful bow.
“My apologies for the interruption, Kazekage-sama, but the wind’s picking up. We should press on. We’re only an hour out.”
Gaara gave a slight nod, and the group began to move again.
The gates of Suna rose in the distance—tall, sun-bleached, and unmistakable.
As they drew closer, Sakura could hear the faint sound of applause echoing across the dunes. Cheers. Shouts.
She blinked. Is that… a crowd?
And then they crested the final ridge, and she saw them—hundreds of people gathered outside the gates. Suna shinobi, civilians, elders, children—waiting for their Kazekage.
The cheers grew louder as they approached. Sakura’s steps slowed as she took it in.
The Kazekage had stopped, standing still at the front of the formation. The desert wind tugged gently at his robes and hair.
Sakura stared at his back. It was a quiet silhouette. Calm. Steady. Commanding.
Three years ago, that same boy had nearly killed her. Had stood in Konoha as a symbol of fear—unpredictable, unfeeling, dangerous. But now… he was the center of a celebration.
Their symbol of hope.
Their leader.
Their Kazekage.
Sakura’s breath caught.
He must’ve changed a great deal, she thought, eyes flicking to the quiet figure standing beside him.
You knew all along, didn’t you, Naruto?
She smiled—small, soft, full of something warm and aching.
You always see the good in people. Even when they can’t see it themselves. You reach inside them, even when it should be impossible. You make them want to try.
Her gaze dropped to her own hands—scraped, stained, fingers still stiff from days of overuse.
And me? I spent most of my teen years obsessing over my hair, my forehead, and whether Sasuke would ever look my way. While you were saving people.
She shook her head at herself.
Honestly, if I could go back in time, I’d smack my 9-to-14-year-old self straight across the face. Hard. Probably twice, just to be sure.
Right there—sweaty, filthy, and half-sunburned in the middle of the desert—Sakura made a decision.
No more waiting. No more playing catch-up.
She would change. She would grow. And not just in strength—but in empathy. In presence. In purpose.
She was already working on the Byakugou seal, storing chakra in her forehead day by day. But that wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be. She needed to become stronger all around.
Her eyes drifted again to Naruto, walking confidently beside Gaara, sunlight catching in his blond hair like a beacon.
I have a long, hard road ahead if I ever hope to come close to your level, she thought, heart clenching with both admiration and determination.
But while you’re saving the world, I want to be right beside you—helping carry that weight.
And she would start with those closest to her.
Naruto. Kakashi. Sasuke.
All of them had carried pain beyond what she could imagine. And for the most part, she had never asked. Never seen. Never really listened.
Naruto—the orphan. The outcast. The Jinchūriki who smiled through loneliness and rejection, and somehow still found the strength to care about others.
Sasuke—the boy haunted by the massacre of his clan, the burden of revenge, and the legacy of his brother’s betrayal. And all she had done was chase him like a fangirl in a fantasy.
Did I really think he had time for crushes? For teenage drama?
And Kakashi… her enigmatic, exasperating sensei. The so-called “Friend Killer.” She had heard the whispers, seen the way villagers looked at him sometimes. She knew something had happened to his team— something terrible —but she had never dared ask.
Her team… was a mosaic of loss. Of silence and pain and unspoken stories.
And yet, somehow, they had survived. Together.
Sakura… it’s time to grow up. Really grow up. Not just stronger—but more aware. More present. More capable.
And beyond Team Seven, she and Naruto had forged bonds with the other teams too—Shikamaru, Ino, Lee, Neji, Tenten, Choji, Hinata, Kiba. All of them had their battles. All of them had scars.
Sakura squared her shoulders.
If Naruto is going to be the light in the darkest places… then I’m going to be the one who holds the line beside him.
X
Sakura was pulled out of her thoughts when the group began to move again.
As they descended the last dune, the full scope of the crowd came into view—a sea of people, pressed together in loose clusters around the outer gates of Suna. Many held signs and banners swaying in the breeze, the fabric sun-bleached but vibrant with hand-painted messages.
One banner read, “Welcome Home, Kazekage Gaara! We Missed You!”
Another, “Thank You for Protecting Us!”
Sakura blinked, taken aback. This isn’t just a welcome... this is a homecoming.
Suddenly, a blur of civilian robes barreled forward—Kankuro, no longer in his usual makeup and armor, but in a plain sand-colored tunic. He sprinted straight toward his brother and pulled him into a tight, breathless hug.
Sakura froze, watching as Kankuro—stoic, sharp-tongued Kankuro—cried.
Tears slipped down his cheeks, raw and unguarded. His voice cracked as he clung to his brother.
"I'm so glad you're back, Gaara," he said, his words choked with emotion. "I thought—"
The Kazekage didn’t speak at first. He stood still in his brother’s arms, his expression unreadable—but not indifferent. There was a slight crease in his brow, a flicker of something behind his eyes that Sakura couldn’t name. Not discomfort. Not exactly.
Concern, maybe. Or something heavier.
He slowly pulled back, his hands still on Kankuro’s arms. His voice was low, level.
"What happened while I was gone?"
Kankuro wiped his face quickly, trying to pull himself together. "Nothing major. A few skirmishes with rogue shinobi near the western ridge, but we managed. Temari kept everything under control."
Gaara nodded once, and Kankuro pulled him into another quick hug before stepping away and turning to Temari, hugging her just as fiercely.
It was a quiet, unscripted moment of real family—something Sakura hadn’t seen between them before. She felt a lump catch in her throat and quickly looked away.
Naruto jogged up to the group, grinning. "Hey, Kankuro—I almost didn’t recognize you without all the makeup!"
Kankuro scowled automatically, wiping his face again with his sleeve.
"Very funny, Naruto. It’s not makeup. It’s combat-grade shinobi paint."
Naruto smirked. "Sure, sure. I bet Temari made you give it up."
Kankuro rolled his eyes. "Yeah… something like that."
The light teasing faded into the sound of cheers as the crowd thickened near the gates. Sakura noticed a young woman push gently to the front, holding a small bouquet of desert flowers—dull pinks and ochres, hardy enough to survive in the sun.
She stepped forward and bowed deeply before the young ruler.
"Welcome home, Kazekage-sama," she said softly. "We’re so grateful for everything you’ve done for us."
He stared at her for a moment, like the gesture didn’t quite make sense.
Then, slowly, he reached out and took the flowers. "Thank you," he said, just loud enough to carry.
The crowd erupted again, louder this time. Shouts. Applause. Some people threw their hands in the air. A few kids started chanting his name.
The Kazekage turned toward the gates, his posture straight but slightly stiff—like someone unsure of what to do with that much emotion pointed at him.
Sakura watched him with quiet awe.
He looked... almost lost in it.
Naruto stepped up beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Can you believe this, Gaara?" he asked, grinning. "You’re a hero to them. They look up to you."
Gaara didn’t respond right away. His eyes scanned the crowd as if searching for something he hadn’t quite found.
"I don’t know how to respond to this," he admitted quietly. "I’m not used to being welcomed like this."
Naruto nodded, his tone softer now. "It’s a lot, I know. But you’ve earned this. You’ve worked hard to protect them—and they see that."
They stood like that for a moment, the noise all around them, but their quiet understanding unmoved at the center of it.
And then the group moved forward, entering the gates of Sunagakure.
X
Sakura’s breath caught as the city unfolded before her.
Tall sandstone buildings rose up from the ground like natural extensions of the desert, their surfaces carved with swirling patterns, reliefs of past Kazekage, and scenes from Suna’s history. The streets were busy but orderly, and the wind blew fine dust through narrow alleys where vendors called out prices and children darted between stalls.
Warm earth tones painted everything—ochre, copper, rust, gold. The city felt sun-baked and solid, like it had never moved an inch, no matter how hard the world shook.
And still, they were cheering. Civilians, shinobi, merchants—all of them paused as Gaara walked past, bowing or calling his name.
Sakura walked quietly among them, half-listening, half-focusing on the sound of her own footsteps. The dust clung to her boots. The dryness stung her throat.
But the energy? That couldn’t be ignored.
When they reached the Kazekage Tower, Sakura looked up and immediately felt small.
The building rose above the rest of the city like a fortress and a temple combined. Made of the same pale stone as the rest of Suna, but smoother, more refined—its façade carved with ancient symbols and ornate scrollwork. Tall, arched windows caught the sun and gleamed like molten glass.
She followed the group through the massive entrance and into a wide, echoing atrium.
Inside, the air was cool—blessedly so. The floor was polished sandstone, soft golden-brown and warm underfoot. The high ceilings arched overhead, and the walls were lined with rich tapestries, painted panels, and scrolls documenting the lineage of Kazekage past.
A handful of Suna ANBU and shinobi bowed low as their ruler passed. Others stepped aside to clear the way, murmuring quiet greetings in the desert tongue as the group ascended the broad stone staircase.
At the top, just outside a large set of double doors, was a secretary’s desk—and behind it, a small, round woman with her hair in two tight gray buns. She stood the moment the Kazekage approached and bowed with surprising depth for someone her size.
"I’m so happy you’re safe and back with us, Kazekage-sama," she said, voice trembling slightly.
The young ruler inclined his head. "Thank you, Maru."
Several guards moved forward and opened the doors for them.
Inside, the Kazekage’s office was already full. High-ranking shinobi and elders stood in small groups, waiting. Among them, Sakura recognized Baki and Ebizō, and of course Hataro—stoic and ever-vigilant.
When Ebizō’s eyes briefly met Sakura’s, her breath caught. The look was short, unreadable. Then his attention returned to the Kazekage.
The office itself was enormous and commanding. A large dark wood desk stood at its center, surrounded by scroll shelves and cabinets that lined the walls in neat, silent rows. A tall arched window behind the desk overlooked the village—and beyond it, the endless stretch of desert.
The sunlight slanted in across the floor, cutting through the heavy air with golden lines. There was no sound but the shifting of robes and the whisper of movement.
The Kazekage stepped forward, his posture straight, expression cold. He rounded the desk and settled into the chair with a quiet exhale.
He looked out over the room.
"All right," he said. "Shall we begin?"