Chapter 31 – Cracked

Author’s note: At long last….

Sakura wiggled her wet toes before stepping into another pool of golden light. Streams of morning sun angled down through the canopy of Konoha’s ancient forests, dappling the shinobi trails. Scuffing over a patch of moss, Sakura’s shoes flung out dew in big sparkling arcs in front of her. She smiled, relishing the early morning solitude.

Sakura had always loved the deep forests that hid her village. As a child she peered out wide-eyed at the green-black world beyond the towering gates. The woods were so full of mystery to her.

But as she grew older, became a shinobi and ventured beyond the safety of the walled village, her childhood awe of the great forests dimmed. Sakura recognized it was a tactical necessity, a defensive zone encircling Konoha that was in turn patrolled and protected by her shinobis. And she knew now that all the hidden villages had similar defensive barriers. Each dangerously beautiful. Each deceptively empty.

Yet in her first year out of academy, when her childhood views were shedding like autumn leaves, Sakura discovered a cool pocket of forest that was still peaceful, still mysterious. In spite of all the harsh realities she’d learned about the world.

Neither time nor experience diminished it. Over the years it had only grown more special to her.

Sakura recognized the familiar bend in the trail. She breathed deeply, letting the quiet seep in. The path curved and dipped down into a quiet glade. The trees nestled closer together, casting the area in perpetual green shade. A haze of moss clung to the trunks.

She followed the trail down, and the trees closed their ranks around her. The deeper she went, the more the moss covered everything, creeping over the ground like a thick carpet. Even the path was soft.

The area always felt hallowed to her. And perhaps, that’s because it was. To someone, at least.

Sakura slowed, craning her neck and watching between the huge trunks for a glimpse of the small misshapen stone that marked this area as different. On rare occasions she was at the right spot to see the tall misty shape, hovering beyond the farthest line of trees like a ghost.

Another step, and there it was: She had come even with a small grey stone far off the shinobi path. It tilted cozily toward the base of a tree, half-sunk in moss, as if an errant river rock has been washed up in the green tide. But even from the path, Sakura could see it smiling at her.

The dimpled roundness caught her eye years before, when she was a fresh genin and she should have been paying more attention to her team. But her attention flitted to other things…like her hair…and Sasuke-kun…and strange rocks that seemed to be smiling at her….

In those first harrowing years, she adopted the quiet space and the funny rock as a talisman. When her feet padded over the soft ground she knew she was close to home.

But one afternoon a bird happened to find the moss on Sakura’s rock much more appealing for her nest than any other. The bird plucked up a thatch and flew off. And Sakura nearly tripped over herself on the path.

A round eye squinted out. That fat little stone really was smiling at her! 

Ahead of her, Team 7 bobbed up over the hill and out of sight. They never paid much heed to their dawdling teammate. Sakura didn’t care.

Completely alone, her gaze slid back to the rock. She gave in to her childlike impulse.

Dress whipping at her knees, she dashed off the trail toward the rock, squashing deep footprints into the green carpet behind her.

Sakura hunched down and quickly flaked off the rest of the moss until she uncovered the smiling face of a little monk. She sat back and beamed at her discovery.

Only the slightest carving had been done to accentuate the natural shape of the rock, but she could make out clasped hands and the edges of a robe under the cloak of moss. Round head tipped to the side, he smiled up as if he were in on some secret that Sakura was only just figuring out.

In fact, he was so jubilant, so captivating with his great dimpled smile, that the question of why he was in a dark corner of the woods came only as an afterthought. Sakura pushed the long hair out her eyes and looked around. The area was beautiful and dreamlike in it’s haze of green, but it didn’t quite make sense why a monk would be out here in the middle of the woods.

That is, until she saw it. Something old and grey and lurking in the deeply shadowed woods behind the small statue. She rose slowly and watched it for a moment. But the shape didn’t move. She gulped, cast a last glance up the trail — Still alone. — then cautiously made her way toward the ghostly apparition.

Back in the present, Sakura couldn’t help but smile at the memory. She knew now that humans were much more to be feared than any ghosts. She tucked the shorter hair behind her ears and toed the thick moss edging the path. But even though she was older, the mysterious qualities of the glade had never waned. In fact, it had only become more special to her over the years.

Giving in to impulse as she had done when she was 12, Sakura left the path. But this time her footsteps were soft and soundless, and, out of habit, she left no trace on the moss.

She paused at the monk’s little round head and brushed off a stray leaf. The green haze had crept back over his face. But Sakura didn’t disturb it. He still grinned up as cheekily as ever.

Passing him by, she wove down through a line of enormous grey tree trunks until she came to a shaded hollow. The land rose sharply into a hill at the back of it. The area, surrounded by columns of trees and backed by a wall of land, seemed to make a natural shrine.

And it was in that cloistered spot that someone generations before her had decided to place a statue of the deity Jizo. The serene protector of travelers. Of mothers and children. Of those lost, in this world and the next.

Sakura tipped up her chin to gaze at the peaceful, standing figure.

She often wondered if those who placed him there knew how important he would be to the shinobis who were forever leaving on this trail, many never to return again. But there was no one to ask. The statue looked to be centuries old. And over time, the forest had proved to be a greater force than the original caretakers.

Moss lapped at the base of the statue. It had settled over the years, and now the Jizo listed gently in the dim green light. Which made his serene expression even more poignant. His down-swept eyes, open hands and slight knowing smile made it seem he perfectly accepted the changes around him. Though he had escaped the moss covering of the small monk, his once-smooth stone was a grey and pitted as the surrounding tree bark. It looked more like he grew there than he was ever set by human hands.

Sakura stood in front of the statue and soaked up the silence. She knew she was not the only one who took a measure of comfort from it. Over the years she noticed small offerings left at the base — nothing more than a flower or a stone — but they spoke of the obvious solace given in the face of the unknown. She wondered if they were the prayers of those leaving or of those left behind that accompanied these little gifts.

Sakura bobbed a quick prayer for protection then turned back to the path. The quiet reverence of the spot stayed with her as she walked on, following the path through the broad woodlands until the trees thinned and fields and pastures opened up before her.

Sakura let the sun warm her shoulders. Her solemn reflections burned away like morning mist. Looking out over the bright countryside, Sakura felt the familiar stirrings at the thought of seeing Katsuro. She smiled. And with renewed energy she descended down the path as it wound away from Konoha’s great woods and into the vast farmlands of the Fire Country.

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Katsuro passed a hand over his face, wiping away grime and sweat, and knocked back his hood. But the blistering midday sun just beat directly down on the top of his head. And the thick air still felt like it was choking on him.

Scrambling up the powdery bank, he leaned into the thin shade at the bottom of the cliff. All around him serrated outcrops shot up from the ground, pushing out of waterlogged ground like a thousand kunai blades.

Sandy, rocky banks piled at the bottom of each cliff, the walls of which ran row upon row in every direction. This land was dangerous and confusing. And that’s why he was here…because it was the path no one else would take.

Katsuro glanced around again, stealing just a few more moments of cool air on his head and neck. He knew he shouldn’t even be letting this much of his face show before making completely certain it was safe. But he was pretty sure he was the only soul stupid enough to be in this forsaken terrain.

Katsuro picked out his direction and pulled his hood back over. Powdery rock dust puffed out under his feet at the slight movement. Katsuro frowned at it. Even though it was nearly a desert where he stood, his shoes and fatigues were soggy. His life was like this, wasn’t it? A mixture of opposites. He sighed and stamped the water from his shoes.

Trekking through the empty terrain at the edge of the waterfall territory had him slogging through extremes. The land was nothing but narrow waterways banked by dry slices of heat-cracked rock. A tug-of-war environment at one edge of the Earth Country. But this unforgiving landscape was exactly why Katsuro was here. Because he knew no one else would be. Even the Earth shinobi didn’t patrol this border.

Katsuro scuttled back down the crumbling outcrop, half walking, half sliding to thin stream. It was slow going, but the only way to get through this land and survive was to stick to the web of tributaries. Being up on the cliffs made for quick sighting — if there was anyone around to see you — but heat or sliding rocks were more likely to kill you first.

Scrubby growth clung to the streams, but the trees weren’t big enough to climb, so he was forced to hop along the rocky banks instead of keeping to the shadows.

Katsuro stepped out onto a boulder that felt secure. But as his weight shifted, it shifted as well. A foot slid into the stream, and fresh water rushed over the top of his boot.

“Dammit,” he muttered, sloshing onto a steadier rock and kicking out the water.

This whole assignment — the unforgiving terrain, the wet clothes, the sweltering temperatures — everything was working against him.

Itachi had hemmed him in with missions. And there was no getting out of it.

Before he’d left camp the previous morning, he’d wracked his brain for any crack that he could slip through, any way out. But there was none.

And more troubling, Katsuro couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he was missing something. Some detail, some facet of their group’s plans, the wheels of which were just beginning to turn. But he was at a loss. He’d knew the part he was expected to play in their bigger plans…and he knew he’d covered his tracks with Sakura….

Sakura….

The farther he went, the farther he moved away from her. He shook his foot, spraying out water, and set off again, letting his frustration on that point push him on. Picking down the rocky rivulet, his mind drifted, as it inevitably had the whole trip, back to the events two nights before that colluded to send him out into this harsh, forgotten land….

Katsuro flopped down in front of the small fire outside his tent, bowl in hand. He scooped up a bite of dinner and began mulling his next mission assignment. He was mentally ticking off which weapons to take, which paths to travel by, when a slim scroll dropped straight down into his lap.

Katsuro glanced up to find captain standing above him, a small grin on his face at having surprised the kid.

“What’s this?” Katsuro slurped up his food. He balanced the bowl on his knee then cracked open the scroll. Inside was a small map of the territories. Red dots were scattered across it, with the greatest concentration streaking through the middle.

“Itachi said since you enjoyed traveling you could handle these as well.” The captain dropped a round-bottomed knapsack beside him. Katsuro looked in, jostling the dozen or so scrolls inside, before gaping up at the captain in utter confusion.

The captain snorted. “Yeah, he said they’d take you a while. Better get to it, kid.” He turned and strode off, leaving Katsuro, his temperature steadily rising while his dinner began to cool. He shoved the bowl aside and jumped up, angrily clutching the neck of the sack..

“Hey! This— I-I can’t do all these!” he shouted at the captain’s back. But the older man just shrugged and kept going. Katsuro pitched down the bag and sat back down with a huff.

Itachi had already assigned him the mission near the old Rain Country borders. It was the farthest, most time-consuming assignment they had. But these — he shook the bag, peering in, shocked to find even more thin scrolls hiding at the bottom — would easily take him several months. Especially if he had to go back a few times.

Katsuro fully unrolled the map scroll and a small paper fell out. It carried precise instructions for the handling of each, as well as when and where he was expected to report.

Katsuro ground his teeth in frustration. It didn’t make sense! Why was all this dumped on him? Him alone? 

But the message was clear, even as he railed against it: Itachi wanted him accountable for each and every movement. His days of freedom were over.

Katsuro stared at the fire, anger warring with the hopelessness that had taken hold. The scroll shifted in his lap. He felt like hurling it into the fire. But he couldn’t. This was his life, his responsibility as a shinobi. If he was assigned it, then he had to do it. He knew how important it was to Itachi, to their group….

Despite all that, he still wanted to see Sakura. More than anything.

His grip tightened on the curled edges of the map. He scanned it distractedly one more time, then shoved the it into the rucksack with the rest of the scrolls. There was no way around this.

The fire danced on merrily. His dinner sat half-finished. But Katsuro’s stomach was tight as a drum. He stood, leaving his bowl untouched.

Flopping back in his tent, he stared up at the ragged seams in the flickering darkness. Instead of his missions, Katsuro went over every way he could possibly think of to get to her. But there was none.

At some point, the fire guttered out. And some time much later, sleep finally claimed him.

In dim haze of morning, activity buzzed around Katsuro. He pushed back the tent flap, squinting in irritation. Smells of cooked food hung in the air, as did soft clinking of weapons and the quiet conversations of men gearing up. Normally, the activity would have Katsuro fired up, but this morning, he begrudged it all.

Everyone seemed to be up before him. The anticipation of Itachi’s new assignments had them all moving, even the ones who weren’t on active squads.

His unfinished dinner bowl beside the blackened fire dredged up memories of last night. When everything went wrong. But another waft of cooking breakfast smell hit him like a wave, and his stomach growled loudly.

Katsuro clutched his gut and set off through the camp to the cook fire, dropping his eyes to the ground. Every step made him feel awful, but there was no other choice. It had to be this way—

Wei’s voice suddenly sounded from the next row of tents. Katsuro slowed, glancing down the row to see the wiry black-haired nin giving orders to two bulky men. Katsuro knew the others by sight. They were thugs. Killers. They had some combat training, but they weren’t ex-soldiers or shinobi, so they were expendable. At the moment they were the favored dogs of the squad leaders…at least until they got killed.

“You’ll need extra kunai for this one.” Wei pointed toward the munitions tent. “You should never underestimate—”

Wei locked eyes with Katsuro, but this time there was no smile. Instead he pivoted smoothly, turning his back to Katsuro and continued his conversation in a whisper.

Katsuro didn’t care. He kept going. Activity was equally brisk in the center of camp. Men eating, coming and going.

Looks like everyone’s antsy with this one, Katsuro thought dispiritedly. Everyone except him. He scooped out some food and headed back to his tent. Within an hour he was ready to go.

Scroll-laden knapsack on, weapons strapped in, cloak fastened at his neck, Katsuro stared up at the trees beyond the last lines of tents. It was in the opposite direction he wished he was going. But there was nothing he could do.

Katsuro twisted the fabric of his shirt. His chest ached, in a completely new and awful way than it ever had with the kyuubi.

He knew this was the life of a shinobi. His life, the one he so desperately wanted as a child. But damn if he didn’t wish he could change it…just for a moment.

He wished he could put aside his obligation to Itachi, just this once, to go to her and explain a little of what he felt, and why he couldn’t see her again. And then…. And then…. Could he really just walk away…?

Katsuro’s chest ached again. He grit his teeth against the empty feeling that had settled there.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of it. He couldn’t go to her. It was impossible. He was a ninja and he had a job to do. He’d just have to cling to the dim hope he’d run into her again.

Katsuro angrily pushed it from his mind. Quit stalling. Get on with your mission. He dipped his head and lunged hard for the treetops.

But more than a day and a half later, Katsuro accepted that feelings had never left him, no matter how much he tried to ignore them. He felt their burden with each step.

But he kept going. Over forests and fields and beyond to edge of the territories, where the land turned to water and rock. He kept moving.

Katsuro adjusted the hood over his head and wiped the fresh sweat from his brow. Ahead of him the stream churned through a narrow pass.

He gingerly leapt from rock to rock, trying to keep to the largest boulders above the roiling waters. The heavy knapsack jerked and bumped with the movement, but he was too far up the narrows to stop and adjust it.

He still wasn’t happy about being sent to Rain. Not after losing the mission that was closest to Sakura’s location to Wei. But it made better sense now. He should have known Wei would be tapped for that mission. And he wished he’d kept his mouth shut in Itachi’s tent.

Maybe that would have kept Itachi from getting his black feathers ruffled and sending me out here, he grumbled to himself, leaping wide over a channel of frothing white water. The water rumbled and rolled ahead of him as far as he could see. No more taking it easy, he grimaced, and trained his eyes to the wet rock tops jutting out farther and farther away from each other. He leapt hard and kept going.

This mission was part of Itachi’s bigger plan. He was certain of that, no matter how much he hated doing it. Itachi never left anything to chance. All their actions were part of his master plan. And now it was all coming together.

The small jobs, the petty thefts for money, the strong-arming of towns to force them to trade at cheaper rates, the network of people paid off as middlemen, and the steady flow of these resources through the lawless territories was all building to this.

Picking his way up the stream, Katsuro kept his eyes down and chewed over what he knew so far. The bits of information gathered from overheard conversations and from things Itachi himself had said were all like scattered pieces of a much larger picture.

Wearing the black fatigues and cloaks of Mist nins, operatives from their group were acquiring metal…a lot of metal…enough to supply a whole shinobi village. And this last job was to be their biggest, sure to draw the attention of other hidden villages. And Katsuro bet that’s exactly what Itachi hoped. Which was a good plan, really…. Because by keeping the same disguise, it made it look as if Mist was planning to manufacture weapons of war.

The last shipment, a caravan of high-grade metals, would out do all the rest. Through middlemen and false Mist emissaries, their group promised a small fortune and set up an exchange point. But that’s were things got exciting.

Because before the haul ever reached the exchange point, another “village” was going to ambush it.

Disguised as rogue shinobi, complete with stolen headbands, another squad from their group would appear on the road and intercept the caravan. And they’d be sure to leave behind a few headbands as a calling card.

A huge haul of high-grade metal goes missing. One country denies responsibility for the deal, while others are blamed for it’s theft. Their suspicious accusations, centering around metals for weaponry, would easily turn to threats of war.

Itachi got away with the supplies, the money and turned nations against themselves. Katsuro shook his head and leapt to another rock. That was Itachi. Going to amazing lengths to get what he wanted.

And the rest of the nations would never know that the metal was going to another hidden village…one right under their noses.

For that reason alone, Wei was the best candidate for this last leg of the mission — as much as Katusuro hated to admit it. As an old Rain shinobi, Wei had the most to lose. The metal was going back to rebuild the Rain village and fortify those souls foolish enough to return there. It was part of Itachi’s assignment from Akatsuki, but Katsuro grasped that there was much more at stake than just community service. Wei probably did too, and by putting him in charge, Itachi was assured the mission wouldn’t fail: Because if Wei botched this, then all hopes of rebuilding his homeland were lost.

The steady thrum of the rushing water was growing to a dull roar with every intersection of cliff walls. Katsuro paused and narrowed his eyes…big waterfalls. He was moving too far south, deeper into Waterfall country. Water churned white and angry every direction he looked. Shit. He’d have to backtrack.

He’d charted his course to be crossing the arid plains of the Grass country by mid-afternoon, so he could get a night’s rest before slipping through the borders to Rain. His delivery wasn’t due in until the next night. But Rain was treacherous and he wanted to give himself extra time. This detour could cost him hours….

And indeed, by the time he clambered into a narrow canyon with smooth, slow-moving waters, the late afternoon sunlight was streaking orange down the cliff walls. He’d be lucky to make it to Grass by nightfall now.

Slipping on the same wobbly rock he’d teetered off of before, Katsuro mentally kicked himself. This wasn’t like him. He didn’t make screw ups like this. What the hell was wrong with him—

But even as he funneled chakra to his feet to move with more stability, certainly making his presence more noticeable in the wasteland, if there was anyone out here to even see him, he knew what was wrong.

Sakura.

His mind was endlessly drifting to her. But now that he had time to kill, he indulged in the futile train of thoughts he spent so much energy ignoring.

She would be waiting for him. Watching the edges of the trade road or peering around dark buildings, her green eyes wide, looking for him. She’d curl her hair softly. Sigh. Finally she’d give up. She’d deliver her scroll. Then she’d return to Konoha.

The tightness in his chest returned.

The thought of her waiting and waiting made him wretchedly miserable. She would be disappointed. And alone. He rubbed a hand into the hollow of his sternum.

He hated to think of her perhaps coming on someone else, like those thugs in the village, believing it was him. Or worse…what if it was someone from his group?

He shook his head lightly and pushed on. No, she delivered information or medicine or whatever it was she did during the day. His group operated at night. As a rule.

He wasn’t happy that Wei would be so close to her. But he remembered her words from a before. She was a shinobi. She could handle herself. He had to trust in that too.

Besides, he wasn’t even sure that one was assigned. It was still on the desk when he left Wei in Itachi’s tent—

Katsuro narrowed his eyes.

The red-tasseled scroll…. Wasn’t it the same one he had brought back from his last big job? The one that Wei took over? Yeah, he was sure of it. He knew it looked familiar. He had been in such a state that he hadn’t recognized it before that. It was the one that he had gone to such lengths to get during the cherry blossom festival.

He laughed to himself. No wonder he hadn’t remembered it. He’d really over-extended himself…not remembering scrolls, important places….

And it made sense for Wei to continue that assignment if he was already in position as the Kiri nin. He had to concede that, even thought it still pissed him off.

Wei would have his hands full with the delivery and whatever else Itachi had tasked him with. Some loose ends, he’d said. Wei wouldn’t have time for a lone shinobi on a diplomatic mission.

Katsuro could see Sakura smiling and chatting with farmers and merchants, housewives and small children who looked up at her in wonder…. But a shadow fell across those sweet pictures. Everyone noticed her.

A Konoha shinobi, even on a diplomatic mission, would not escape Wei’s notice. He was that thorough.

But they would probably never cross paths, he told himself.

Itachi’s words, “a loose end,” floated up again. Someone must have gotten in their way. Wei will probably be preoccupied with dispatching them first….

Katsuro’s thoughts drifted to the red-tasseled scroll again…Wei’s private conversation with Itachi…. Then Wei advising two thugs on weapons for a mission….

Something about that didn’t make sense. Wei never needed back up. He ran squads on orders of the captain. But he preferred operating alone. He was a shinobi assassin. The odds were more than in his favor.

What would he need two extra thugs for? Just who was he planning on going after?

Itachi’s voice drifted up. Several towns have employed shinobi protection…from one of the hidden villages.

Katsuro knew these towns. They all did. These were the hold-outs, the areas where they had not been able to make in-roads yet.

But when Itachi mentioned protection, he had dismissed it. After all, he’d never seen any evidence of it. Not once had he encountered another shinobi. He didn’t even know why they were hold-outs anyway. It seemed like they weren’t trying hard enough. Sakura had even mentioned a few the towns. They just seem to be run by stubborn old men, more concerned with their petty problems than anything else—

A rock shifted, pitching him forward. His foot slid into the water. The knapsack swung sideways, banging his ribs. But he barely noticed.

Katsuro’s mouth had gone dry. Sakura had visited many of those towns. Or nearby them. And though she didn’t exactly stand guard on the town road, she definitely helped with diplomatic problems….

He picked up speed on the river, ticking through everything she’d ever told him with increasing dread.

Memories blurred together. Her sweet, smiling face at the campfire….

“Let’s sit, okay? I’ve been standing at a meeting all day….”

“The clan requested me personally. I guess word gets around….”

Walking side by side, her expression thoughtful….

“I heal when I can, but that’s not what I’m here for….”

“I’m a diplomat and a shinobi. I guess you could say I do both! It certainly has turned out that way….”

Her explanations were easy enough, but he was beginning to grasp a bigger picture.

What if she was the shinobi “protecting” the hold-outs. And he had never encountered another hidden-village shinobi because…because he was with the only one out there.

That thought rocked him like a punch. He stopped suddenly, panting, and turned in a circle looking up at the jagged canyon walls. They were coming up at all angles around him, closing him in under the purpling sky.

If-If it was all true, then Sakura….

He desperately needed to get out of this labyrinth.

Katsuro leapt off the flat rocks, picking up speed and pushing down chakra, running toward the blade-thin spine of a crumbling peak. He launched at lowest notch, hurtling up the spine, one foot over the other, till he reached the peak. He balanced on the balls of his feet, pooling his chakra there. A few loose rocks gave way and skittered to the water far below.

Katsuro didn’t notice. He swept his gaze around the unimpeded view to get his bearings. Ahead of him, the spires were scattering and tapering off. Beyond, the Grass country lay flat and wide and beckoning. But he turned away.

Katsuro looked back over the peaks that jutted up higher and higher like sharpened teeth, back in the direction he’d just come. The sky was dark at the horizon. A half moon was just beginning it’s ascent.

Was she out there? Was she in danger? Or was it all in his head?

A breeze lifted the sweat-tipped bangs at his forehead. But it didn’t make him cooler.

Another thought struck him. Katsuro ripped off the rucksack and pulled out the map. He scanned it quickly, dread filling him. The red marks still ran through the center of the map like a gouge. But this time he looked at the places, the towns…. No, it couldn’t be….

Katsuro plunged his hand in the sack and pulled out several thin scrolls. The wax seals were thick, meant only to be opened by the recipient. Katsuro knew the rules — never, never, never open a scroll…it ruined the deception — but was far beyond caring. He ruthlessly tore them open, scouring each one then ripping open the next.

His face went paler with each scroll. A ringing filled his ears. How could he have missed it?

But all the separate pieces were slipping into place. There was enough to confirm it. It was all there.

Itachi’s face floated in front of him. “I need you to take care of a loose end….”

He remembered Wei’s grim voice as he spoke to the two thugs…”You need stronger weapons. You should never underestimate your opponent….”

They were going after a shinobi. They were going after her.

A familiar heat bubbled up inside. The ringing turned to a hard, drumming heartbeat.

She was the loose end. And it was all his fault.

Katsuro tore off, leaping from peak to peak, hurtling over the stretching maw of land with its thousands of jagged-toothed spires, back toward the dark horizon, the rising moon and Sakura.

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Beside the trade road, an old stone marker bearing an even older clan name shone blue against the shadowed woods. This was the one. Sakura turned off and disappeared beneath the canopy of trees.

The narrow lane meandered gently down the forested hillside. Her destination was the large clan compound tucked in the valley.

She sighed, rolled her shoulders and brushed the dust from her skirt. Pale moonlight dappled the road. It was plenty high enough to see by now, which Sakura was grateful for. The woods would have been pitch black without it.

Delivery had been requested to be under the cover of night. Which was fine…but there were inherent dangers in traveling at night for shinobi and civilian alike. Fortunately, this part of the territories north of Fire was filled with family enclaves and was relatively safe. She probably wouldn’t run into any thieves or hoodlums out here.

Well that wasn’t entirely true, she thought. After all, she was hoping to run into one thief in particular.

Sakura scanned the quiet trees. It was the perfect place for Katsuro to hide. She slowed and listened but heard nothing except the soft hush of wind-blown leaves. She pushed out the disappointment. He said he’d come…she had to trust in that.

It was a mild late spring evening and not uncomfortable for travel. Even a few birds were still warbling from the tree tops. The lane rose and dipped into a long straight stretch, before curving and disappearing again. Sakura crested the first hill, remembering this detail from her mission notes. Two more curves then the valley should open up. The compound should even be visible—

A bird chirped again. This time closer. Sakura thought she saw it’s shadow dart through the splattered blue light. But when she looked up, it was gone.

The corner of her mouth hitched up into a smile. The bird chirped again. She nearly laughed. It was so awful, he wasn’t even trying—

Gravel crunched on the road behind her. Sakura turned in a whirl, already smiling….

But the face grinning back from under the deep black hood wasn’t Katsuro’s. Her eyes went wide.

Another hooded figured dropped down, black cloak pooling around him. He grinned toothily at Sakura and popped his knuckles as he walked closer.

The man in the front whistled the same warbling bird call.

It was an ambush.

Sakura jumped backwards, never loosing eye contact, and dropped into her stance.

The men didn’t seem concerned. They slowly advanced. Smiling and popping knuckles. The man in front dropped a chained weapon from the cuff of his cloak. It’s sound rattled through the still woods. He swung it menacingly, slowly gaining speed.

Sakura ground her feet into the gravel and pushed chakra to her calves. Kunai in hand, she took a shallow breath then lunged….

---

Katsuro pitched over the last few spires, catching each one in a terrifying balancing act that was becoming increasingly hard to keep up. Sweat shuddered from his bangs as he landed and pushed off in great leaping bounds. The rucksack was sticky on his back and burning him up. But he wouldn’t touch it. Not till he was through this. He lowered his head, ignoring the warning ache in his gut, breathed through his nose and pushed on. She was depending on him.

The line of trees loomed in front of him. Good…he could leap to the branches then really pick up speed.

He pushed hard off the last cliff, letting the chakra swirl down his legs. The rock cracked from the force. But he stayed focused on the trees ahead, aiming for the biggest branch, he—

Suddenly the trees were coming too fast. He couldn’t stop. Katsuro crashed through the branches like a comet, feet first. He flung his hands out to grab hold of anything to slow him down.

His hand hooked a branch and finally he stopped. A swath had been cut in the treetop. “S-shit.” The rucksack sagged off one shoulder. The strap had torn away from the bag. Katsuro grimaced, shoved it back up as best as he could and kept going.

The malignant burn of chakra was undeniable now. Not that Katsuro needed another reminder. That hole in the tree was telling enough that the demon’s chakra was rising to the surface.

Katsuro brushed away sweat-soaked bangs. Still, the speed surprised him. Without anything in his way, he didn’t realize just how fast he was going.

And now it felt like he couldn’t go fast enough. His footings were solid, but he had to duck and weave through the branches. He was so far away. What if he couldn’t get there in time….

Katsuro pushed hard again, frustration fueling him. But the molten core of chakra was rising too. It burned in his chest. He tried to ignore it, tried to run against it. With each leap the ache behind his navel only grew more pronounced.

Katsuro kept going, racing against time itself. He was so far away. DAMMIT! 

The heat surged mutinously in his chest.

Katsuro coughed once, but kept running. Let me burn him alive, he thought, wincing at the pain and rubbing at the front of his cloak. He wasn’t slowing down. Not when she was in danger.

The knapsack sagged. He hitched it back up without stopping.

He could see her, watching, waiting for him…. But instead it was Wei and his two dogs who were watching and waiting for her.

Katsuro pushed harder off the branch. The demon chakra fought against him, clawing at his insides. But Katsuro wouldn’t slow down.

The sickening vulnerable feeling he felt with her had consumed him.  Katsuro had prided himself on never having a weak spot. But now he knew he was wrong. He had a weakness, an avenue in which he could be hurt. And it was her. Her pain was his. Her fear was his. Her life was in is hands. Just as he now realized that his life was somehow tied to her. That feeling of vulnerability that she brought up was terrifying proof.

Katsuro flung himself through the darkness, desperate to get to her. But the malignant chakra spiked suddenly. Katsuro gasped, faltering in his step. The heat rose up through his chest and clawed at his throat.

Growling against it, Katsuro pushed off the branch even harder. He was fiercely determined to get to her. And he’d overcome the demon’s crushing chakra to do it.

He ran and ran, bounding  and pushing off, till the air around him smelled singed and only the cloak hid the faint orange glow clinging to his body. He burned and ached. And he could no longer hear the slap of his feet on the branch or the huff of breaths over the banging heartbeat in his ears. The one he knew was not his own.

But he didn’t care anymore. Come and get me, he thought ruthlessly. Because I’m not stopping.

Her life depended on it. And now he knew his life depended on it too.

As if throwing everything it had at the boy, the malignant chakra exploded upward from his chest. The heartbeat hammered louder, drowning out all else, giving Katsuro vertigo.

He stopped suddenly, crushing his eyes shut and grasped the tree, gasping for breath. His gut felt like he was being wrung in two, just like in that wretched boyhood dream. He doubled over as the heat coursed over his face, his head, drowning him….

Then just as suddenly, the demon’s chakra loosened it’s chokehold. The heat edged back from burning him alive. Even the ache at his seal had diminished. And the heartbeat moved in time with his own.

It wasn’t until Katsuro opened his eyes on the blood red world around him that he realized something had happened. Something had changed. The heat was still there, still molten, but somehow it had channeled into his muscles. It no longer tore at his middle.

He blinked, seeing the forest in bloody daylight, and he thought he understood. The kyuubi thought its host was in danger. And Katsuro had tapped into that power, just as Itachi had said he would. When he needed it most.

Well, he needed it now.

Katsuro heaved a breath and flexed his hands and arms. There were no more aches. He felt like he could fly through the forest, unstoppable, faster than anyone, he could even— The broken knapsack sagged off his shoulder again.

He hitched it up and scanned the trees. With his enhanced vision he easily found what he was looking for.

After dropping the rucksack down into the hollow tree, he set off again. He was more determined than ever. Her life was in his hands. He wouldn’t fail.

The demon’s chakra welled up within him, pushing him on. It was still terrifying and molten. But for the first time he was glad it was his.

If only he could get to her in time.

He lowered his head and tried to focus on her, alone, walking right into Wei’s trap.

---

Sakura drove her elbow up into the man’s jaw, knocking his hood off. He staggered back, but righted quickly. He may not have been a shinobi, but the great lump of a man knew how to take his blows. He looked back at her and smiled, trying to scare her. Blood seeped through his teeth.

To his credit, he never took his eyes off her. Even as his partner crept silently up behind her. Or so he thought.

Sakura could hear the soft hiss of his feet on leaves, then the creak of the unoiled nunchucks, swinging once, twice….

The man in front of her shifted his eyes at the last moment to watch his partner deliver the blow. His mistake. Sakura darted forward and ducked, forcing the nunchuck to whizz perilously close to the other man.

They swore and grabbed after her. But Sakura was too fast. Again she avoided a blow and delivered a punishing uppercut in return.

The were burly, meat-fisted and slow, but the men had managed to work together. Sakura didn’t have time to think about why. She’d disable them, then ask questions later.

They came at her, sometimes together, sometimes in tandem. One would advance, giving the other enough time to draw a weapon. Then they’d swap. They were well armed, better than most thieves she’d encountered. Sakura disarmed them of everything but the pair of nunchucks. And after a few stinging blows to her forearms and shins, she knew that would be next to go.

Sakura feinted a blow at the first thug to draw the second one in. Just as she planned, the first man flew past her, too slow to correct. The second flung out his nunchucks for a sideways strike to her exposed side. Sakura easily blocked it with her forearm, grabbing the wooden baton and holding it long enough to crack it in her grasp.

Stunned, the man indignantly jerked back his last weapon. He swung it around again, but Sakura was too quick. She dodged and the black baton shattered against a tree trunk. He threw it down, cursing, and tore after her, armed with nothing but his anger.

“Dammit, girl. I’ll show you—”

A steady crunch of gravel rang out from the direction of the compound. Probably someone from the family, Sakura thought, coming to see what was the matter or coming to greet her. This would surely send the men running.

But the men didn’t back off. One of them even chuckled. “This is the end, girlie.”

Sakura caught her breath and watched them warily.

Another cloaked man sauntered up. Just a glance at their body posture told her they knew each other. Knew each other very well.

What the hell was going on? This was an organized ambush. But it wasn’t a robbery. And they’d never once lunged for her pouch with the mission scroll…. So what did these men want?

“What did I tell you,” the cloaked man said. He pushed back his hood revealing a handsome face, close-cropped black hair and dark eyes. He flashed her a winning smile. Sakura knew at once this was the one in charge. “Never underestimate a kunoichi. Do you know why? Because they’re women…or girls. As the case may be….” He unsnapped his cloak with a flourish, folded it and set it on the ground. “They know they have been dealt the weaker hand. So they have everything to lose.” He smirked. “You should expect a fight to the death.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes and sized up this new lowlife. His stance was deceptively casual. His body was limber and his hands were loose. But two silver blade edges glinted from behind his fingers.

Following her eyes, he grinned wickedly. “What do you say my dear, shall we dance?”

A shinobi. That changed everything.

Sakura shifted her feet for stability and eyed her opponents.

Should she eliminate the two thugs, but leave herself open to the shinobi…. Or go straight for nin and take her chances with the others….

The two kunai dropped down into his palms.

He shook his head, reading her thoughts. “You won’t have any more time for them.”

He smiled again, big and cruel, then lunged for her, kunai slicing the air as he came.

Sakura shot up to the branches. He mirrored her, keeping pace. The leapt from branch to branch, neither getting close enough for even a glancing blow.

Below, the two men watched the blotted canopy, mouths agape. They were land bound.

It was an old shinobi trick to lure your opponent into battle just to see their skills. The problem was it only worked on civilians. Shinobi never gave away their skills to each other. And Sakura and Wei were no different.

Both knew that taking to the canopies was a ruse to buy more time. Wei was betting that Sakura was tiring out, that she fled to the branches to give herself time to make a plan. And Sakura was letting him think it.

Sakura kept running, shifting her movements, baiting the black-clad man to come closer. She spied a big branch and dove for it.

Wei took the bait.

He flash-stepped ahead of her, kunai ready to slash across her throat. But at the first rip of her collar, Sakura’s body exploded into a spinning log.

Sakura flashed behind him in the same instant and cracked the dull end of her kunai down on the base of his neck. It connected but didn’t knock him. He swung back at her furiously as the log clattered down through the canopy. The men dance around stupidly beneath them to avoid being hit.

Sakura dodged his backwards elbow strike and bounced away, but he followed close behind. They moved like two black shadows through the dark leaves, streaking impossibly fast against the moon-blued sky. Only the ching and spark of metal and the soft oof after a successful hit gave any sign that these weren’t two forest creatures locked in a predator-prey battle.

Sakura dropped suddenly from the trees, surprising the two men. They wheeled around, kunai up, ready to attack. The one closest to Sakura slashed sloppily, more to stop her than to actually hurt her. But Sakura knew the real danger was still lurking above her, and she wasn’t about to get trapped by a thug underling.

A soft woosh, and Sakura knew the black-clad shinobi was landing behind her.

Sakura lunged suddenly for the nearest thug. Evading his surprised jab, she leapt and plunged her blade down into the soft hollow between his collar bone and his shoulder. She leveraged herself up and over his shoulder, pushing off with her boot and pulling the kunai out as she flipped over. Sakura winced, but at least it was a painless death. Her blades were tipped with poison, and from that entry point, he’d be dead before his body hit the ground.

Sakura leapt wide, hearing the body crash down like a falling tree, followed by the shinobi’s cursing and evasive footsteps. But there was no time to waste. The second thug was coming for her, arms wide to grab her up. Sakura ducked under his limbs and landed in a roll, never stopping. Frustrated, the thug forgot any training he might have had. He lumbered after her, ducking and weaving, swinging frantically only to clasp thin air when she evaded him again.

Sakura thought she would have to outrun him and take to the trees…when an arc of shuriken wheeled by on either side. It made a very clear, wet thunk directly behind her. Then there were no more heavy footsteps from the second thug. Just a slow crash, a single moan, then silence.

Sakura was at the safety of the treeline before she risked a glance back.

The shinobi walked slowly through the carnage, sauntering straight toward her. The big, ruthless smile had returned. Never looking down, he stepped on the back of the underling he’d just killed as if stepping on a log. A single shuriken protruded from the back of of the man’s big head.

Sakura could have run to the trees again, but she didn’t. Instead she waited for him. She dropped to a squat on the far side of the blue-splattered road. A thin line of blood seeped from a scrapes on her cheek. Bruises were blossoming all over her. But she didn’t dare check for deeper damage.

He wanted something. And she wanted to know what it was. Were they after her scroll? Sakura breathed shakily, watched his every movement and waited.

“I’m impressed. I had expected you to run, like a soft little rabbit.” His voice was smooth and but his smile was vicious. “Then all that would be left was to catch you…and snap your neck.” Wei dragged his hand across his mouth, eyes never leaving her. His voice dropped a notch. “But this has been much more fun.”

Sakura knew his comments were meant to unsettle her. She ignored them completely.

“I hear your hair is pink. Too bad I can’t see it in this light.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes. This wasn’t about money or a scroll. They were after me.

“Perhaps I’ll snip off a piece, enjoy it in the sunlight.” He reached for another blade. It smoked as he pulled it from the thigh holster. “Something which you, my dear, will never see again.”

Sakura seethed at her own mistake. She underestimated the thugs. Those men weren’t meant to challenge her. They were meant to wear her out. Katsuro’s words from the temple echoed through her mind. “They know who you are. They know what they want. And they are going to tear you apart.”

She locked her jaw and readied her kunai. It was time to end this.

He must have felt the same because for the first time his casual expression sharpened into a predatory focus. They both lunged with ferocity.

He sailed close, throwing jabs at her, continuously flashing the acrid-smelling blade. Sakura didn’t know if it was poison or acid, but she knew immediately that it couldn’t touch her. And her assailant pressed that advantage.

With one hand, Wei taunted her with the blade, whipping it close enough to burn streaks in her clothes. It was a calculated move so he could do the real damage with his other hand, landing several jabs when she was too preoccupied to block them.

Sweat pricked her forehead. She’d fought twice as long as her opponent had, and it was starting to show. She evaded, pitched back, tried to get him off balance, but nothing worked. And he was connecting more and more of his blows. In a snap decision, Sakura pushed him back and darted to the canopy to try to keep the upper hand.

Wei was hard on her. Sakura dashed and dodged him, suddenly glad for Sasuke’s brutal training spars. She realized it had prepared her well for this. She was using every defense technique in her arsenal to stay one step ahead. But now it was time to take a page from Kakashi’s book….

Sakura had circled back to the same branch a few times, giving a chakra-infused push each time she leapt off. Her trap was almost ready. One more push, it would snap and down he’d go. Then she’d have her opening to finish him.

Sakura ducked under his swinging jab and twisted back to the branch. At the last moment she slowed, just by a heartbeat, just enough to bring him closer to her and onto the branch as she leapt off….

She pushed hard, forcing as much chakra as she could muster into her foot. It worked. He landed solidly and the branch exploded just behind her launching foot. She lunged for the next branch—

But a hard yank on the tail of her shirt and suddenly she was tumbling backwards, falling with the splintering branches and her cursing opponent toward the dark ground somewhere below….

The crack of a wooden baton against her ribs was as loud as the snapping limb. Sakura’s vision exploded in white hot pain. She gasped sharply and rolled with the force, away from him.

Wei followed her, a single nunchuck swinging from his hand. He licked the trail of blood at the corner of his mouth. Sakura couldn’t see any injuries, but he was moving much slower too.

She knew she had to put some distance between them.

Drawing a shallow breath that felt like fire in her lungs, Sakura aimed for the canopy again. She grit her teeth and sped up the tree trunk. Wei didn’t move to follow. A small smile touched his lips. Sakura couldn’t think why until her hand closed around the first big branch. Paper crinkled under her fingertips. Wei’s trap had been laid long before hers—

The cascading explosion of paper bombs burned red through the black lines of trees.

---

Through the trees, Katsuro saw the fireball. It was crystal clear with his enhanced sight even though it was still quite far away. The silhouette of a body pitched against the dark lines of trees then tumbled like a ragdoll to the ground. The shattering fan of her hair was unmistakeable.

Fear and rage tore through Katsuro. And with it, an unholy fire exploded in his gut. The demon’s chakra surged and the woods turned red and clear as bloody daylight.

Katsuro closed in, bouncing from branch to branch. One step, the black cloak ripped off behind him in a great dark fluttering sheet. Next step, two fingers were raised for a hasty jutsu. His appearance shifted mid-air, brown hair drenching suddenly black. It was a standard-issue Konoha boot that rocked the next branch. Katsuro breathed deeply and let the raging chakra push him as he barreled toward the only silhouette still standing.

---

Sakura was completely disoriented. The only thing she was sure of was the flat rock-strewn ground underneath her.

And if she was on the ground, then she needed to get up.

Blinded, dizzy, and nauseous with pain, she pushed against the ground edged her way to sitting. She blinked furiously, forcing her eyes to focus after the flash. Sounds were still murky, but that was ebbing too.

Sakura wiped at a trickle of blood seeping from under the hair at her temple. She quickly assessed her vitals: Cracked ribs, possible concussion. A lot more, but those were the biggest.

A muffled voice swam through the darkness in front of her.

Sakura straightened, trying to look battle-ready despite the shooting pain in her ribs.

The voice laughed, growing clearer. A handsome, black-haired man came into focus. He was walking slowly toward her, sporting as many wounds. He looked her up and down. The cruel smile returned.

“Well, my dear, this has been fun.” He slowly unsheathed another smoking kunai. “But all things must come to an end…”

Fresh liquid dripped off the tip. It sizzled and steamed where it hit the leafy ground. Sakura struggled to rise, gasping against the pain. But he only laughed, mere feet from her now, closing off all hope of escape….

There was no warning, no rattle of leaves nor soft footfalls to precede him…just the sudden form of Sasuke Uchicha dropping straight down in front of Sakura, landing over her outstretched legs in a protective crouch.

He growled up at Wei, who hopped back in a rare display of open surprise.

Sakura looked at the black hair, the Konoha uniform. She knew in an instant it was Katsuro. She didn’t know how she did, but she knew it down to her bones.

He was close enough to touch. But she didn’t dare. He growled again and raw power rolled off him. Great waves of malicious chakra, like she’d nothing she’d ever felt before. It was disorienting. She lightly rubbed her temple, fighting the strange nausea.

Wei teetered back a step, but the little show of weakness was like igniting a bomb. Katsuro lunged with frightening ferocity.

Sakura blew out a shaky breath, the sudden queasiness ebbing. Forgotten, Sakura watched them fight. Katsuro hounded the man relentlessly, despite being pummeled and slashed. He kept pushing back, over and over. They streaked higher up into the canopy, moving away from her. But Sakura could hear their continuous clashing.

She scooted back against as tree, wheezing from the pain. Her inability to defend herself still made her a target.

Sakura unstrapped kunai with one hand, crossed an arm over her stomach and pushed the other chakra-cloaked hand against her cracked ribs. Her hand registered only a faint green glow…her chakra was low. She’d set the bones, but she wouldn’t be able to heal much else without some rest.

The man hurtled back through the canopy, Sasuke’s lookalike tearing after him, destroying anything in his way to get to the nin. The man’s smile and swaggering style were gone. He bounced off a trunk then the ground in desperation. He was losing this battle.

Katsuro was vicious, taking blow after blow and returning punishing ones. Sakura knew he would never give up. But as she watched, it was as if that mantra had taken physical form. He never gave the guy an inch. He stayed hard on him.

Katsuro swung around for a jab, and Sakura was surprised to see the familiar glow of red eyes in Katsuro’s disguise. His opponent must have known about the Uchihas’ famed sharingan too, because he never looked at Katsuro’s face.

But whipping his kunai up for a block, the nin looked at her. His expression sharpened. The hair rose on the back of Sakura’s neck. She tightened her grip on her own blade, wishing she wasn’t so open—

Suddenly the man came at Katsuro with blistering speed, driving him back with a one handed slash, over and over. Blades rang out, Katsuro stopping each blow with his own kunai. But the last thrust was brutal. He used the force of Katsuro’s block against him and sent him skidding back in the dirt.

It was just a few steps, but it was enough.

The man’s black eyes shifted, looking just over Katsuro’s shoulder in a straight line to Sakura. His lips curled in a cruel smile. Sakura’s blood went cold.

Katsuro realized too late that it was a set up.

The spate of poison-tipped senbon fanned down from Wei’s other hand. They smoked like the kunai. He bent his arm and let them fly at Sakura.

There was no way to run. Sakura turned her head and crushed her eyes closed, bracing for impact.

Senbon whizzed in a line, hitting her and the tree and whistling past on either side. Her arm felt like it was on fire. But the extreme burst of pain she expected didn’t come. Sakura opened her eyes, confused. A needle had pierced her forearm, pinning it to the tree. Another sunk in the curve of her shoulder, the fabric around it already sizzling. And a third had sliced through her hair and lodged into the tree, mere inches from her cheek. She had ducked away just in time.

But he had a clear shot! They should have mowed her down! Where were the other senbon—

Sakura looked up frantically. Katsuro had thrown himself between her and the shinobi at the last moment. His arms were flung wide, and senbon stuck out at all angles from one of them. Save for one shuddering breath, he didn’t move.

Wei tipped his head and looked around at Sakura. One hit was apparently enough. He smiled again, even hitching up his eyebrow in a little gesture of victory. He never glanced at the girl’s Uchiha teammate, unconcerned since apparently one senbon was enough to kill. With the dozen that poked from the boy’s arm, he was probably dead on his feet. Wei turned to go with the renewed energy of the victor.

But strength was returning to Katsuro. A gutteral sound tore from his throat, and suddenly he was moving again. He hurled his kunai at the retreating nin’s back with everything he had.

It plunged into Wei’s shoulder with such tremendous force that it knocked him forward before he could lunge for the canopy. Wei crashed through the underbrush. Katsuro pulled out the senbon in great grasps and was about to go after him, but Sakura’s sharp gasp stopped him.

Katsuro turned to see that he had not been able to deflect all the needles. His throat tightened at the sight of her, bloodied and bruised and pinned to a tree.

The crashing sound grew fainter. But Katsuro let him go. He went to Sakura.

“P-poison,” she said when he was near enough to hear. Her breaths were shallow. The color was draining from her face. Her movements were slowing.

Katsuro began to panic. The red in his eyes quickly faded to black.

“Can’t just you heal it?!” he burst out, nearly yelling in frustration at her sluggish movements. Katsuro looked hard into her glassy eyes. “What can I do? Tell me what to do—”

“My bag,” she rasped past numbing lips. She struggled to move, but everything was going numb. “‘M-Med kit.”

Katsuro unclipped her hip bag and tore through it, finally dumping everything on the ground. A small zipped-up kit tumbled out. He grabbed it and opened it wide for her to see.

She nodded to the a large glass vial on the left flap. Katsuro unstrapped it, feeling suddenly clumsy. Amber liquid jostled in another glass chamber inside it.

“My leg,” she wheezed with an exhale.

Katsuro frowned momentarily until he realized what he was holding: Sliding back the top exposed a sharp needle. It was an injection, a blanket antidote to shinobi poisons

He turned the outside of her thigh, pushed up the fabric with his thumb, and jammed the open end of the tube against her leg. He looked up. She gave a single, pained nod. Then he pushed hard on the outer vial, releasing the shot with a slingshot force into her thigh. The inner vial quickly drained of all liquid.

Within moments, Sakura’s breathing relaxed. Color returned to her face, and her body began to release from the death grip of the poison.

Katsuro released the needle, but he kept his hand on her leg, wrapped just around the top of her knee. He scooted closer, pulling the senbon that pinned her hair while she pulled the two from her arms. Fresh blood seeped from the wounds.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pushing the hair away from her face. He meant to inspect her wounds, but it was such sweet relief just to be with her and know she was safe, he realized he just needed to touch her. Katsuro gently cupped her cheek, brushing away dried blood with his thumb. “I-I should have been here. I should have—”

“No, it’s ok. But I need you to….” Still slow from the poison, Sakura struggled to get to the contents of her pack scattered in the dirt beside her. “I need you to finish this for me,” she said thickly. “The mission. I need you to….”

Katsuro scooted back. She finally found what she was looking for: Sakura held out a dirty, crushed scroll, the blood on her hands smearing on the once-ivory parchment, staining it the same shade as the scroll’s red tassels.

Katsuro looked at it with the sickening realization of what it was. And what she was asking of him.

“I need you to deliver this scroll for me. Tell them it’s from Konoha,” Katsuro was already shaking his head no. But Sakura pushed the scroll into his hands anyway. “I can’t do it. You have to. Please,” she urged, voice shaking.

“No!” he snapped. “It’s just a stupid scroll. It’s—”

“Please! I have to finish this mission! I’m begging you!” She pushed the scroll at him again. “Just take it to the door of the compound. That’s all they are expecting.”

He clamped his hands on her shoulders and looked into her bloody, bruised face. It made him irrationally angry. He grit his teeth to keep from yelling at her. Her pain hurt him! How could a scroll be worth this? She could have died. And that damn village wouldn’t care—

Sakura curled her empty hand around his forearm and looked into his face.

“After this, my part is done,” she said softly. “I only have to deliver this message. But if they see I’ve been attacked it will just…complicate everything. How can Konoha protect them, if we can’t protect ourselves?” She smiled grimly at her little joke, but Katsuro didn’t smile back.

He frowned instead at the scroll nestled in the open hand in her lap. Hot fury spiked at everything that scroll represented: that village, her injuries…and his fears. He wanted to protect her and burn Konoha  away for doing this to her. Angry chakra effortlessly churned in his midsection. A heartbeat thrummed in his ears, but it was accompanied by crying, wailing…ghosts of the kyuubi’s memory. The demon was so close to the surface, intermingling with his thoughts, wanting what he wanted…to burn…to destroy….

Katsuro crushed his eyes shut, but he could still feel them burning and changing and turning a fiery red….

Sakura let out a soft groan. Katsuro stole a glance. Eyes closed, Sakura moved her hand to forehead and rubbed her temple. She looked like she was gripped by pain. Katsuro could guess why….

“Please,” she implored in a tired whisper, never opening her eyes. “Please do this for me. Then I can go home.” She gulped against the assault of malignant chakra. “Tsunade can fix everything,” she breathed out. “And I’ll never do a mission like this again.”

That did it. Katsuro hooded his eyelids over burning red eyes. In a blur he’d snatched the scroll out her hand and stood. Back to her, he sucked in a hot breath and used the quickly fading burst of chakra to scan the blood-red woods for any sign of Wei. Two bodies were on the ground. A lot of destruction. But no Wei. In the next moment the red woods returned to normal.

Katsuro clutched the ache at his midsection and set off. He’d do this for her and buy himself some time to calm down.

“Wait!” Sakura called, clearly reviving the farther he got from her. “Didn’t you get hit too? Are you ok? Do you need—”

“I’m fine,” he called sharply over his shoulder. He didn’t even think about the heat tearing up his arm, pooling at the spots where the senbon punctured him. The kyuubi’s chakra had incinerated the poison before it could spread. Now it was only healing the wounds. He swept his gaze over the woods where Wei disappeared. Katsuro forced himself to let it go. For now. “I’ll be back.”

Katsuro took off down the long road, weighing his options as he ran. Wei didn’t recognize him. At least that was a good thing. So it looked like Sakura had been saved by her teammate.

But she was still in danger. Once they realize she didn’t die from her wounds, they might pursue her again….

He’d deliver this for her, finish her mission, then that was it. This was the end. It had to be.

Sakura’s pained words rang in his ears. I’ll never do this again. That’s what convinced him. He’d hold her to it.

Katsuro rounded the trail and descended down the hill to the compound. Orange lights glowed at the entrance. They were expecting her.

He tightened his hands, creaking the parchment scroll in one fist. Looking down at it, Katsuro realized what he held. Information from Konoha. Confirmation of just how deeply she was involved….

Without hesitation he flicked back the torn paper, ripping it away from the seal.

He scanned the document quickly, his lips flattening to a thin line. It was nothing. All this, over nothing.

The scroll contained nothing more than a ridiculous invitation from Konoha, an alliance in the broadest sense of the words. Sakura was just a messenger. Not the territories’ shinobi defender like Itachi thought. It was just a coincidence….

His anger mounted at Konoha for ordering her out in the world with this scroll, an open target for attack, and at Itachi for apparently ordering her death.

But his anger was quickly eclipsed. Katsuro shook his head. He had done this. The bulk of the blame lay with him.

He knew she had taken more and more missions to see him. And he had caught her up in something that wasn’t her doing. Even if she was in those places, it wasn’t what they thought. She was just a medic, running errands for her village. A diplomat and a medic, helping out where she could, just like she said.

He’d brought this down on her. Now it was up to him to fix it and get her home.

Katsuro took a breath and made sure his henge as Sasuke still felt right. Then he passed through the gates, dashed up the manicured stones and rapped loudly at the main door.

The polished door slowly slid open. The house man frowned down at him.

Katsuro ignored him and shoved the scroll out without a word.

The man looked down at the Katsuro’s hands then back to his face, unimpressed.

“And what did you say your name was—”

“I am…I am Uchiha Sasuke. From Konoha.” The words turned to ash in his mouth. “I am delivering a scroll.”

The man nodded and widened the door to take it. Light shone out around him, slanting across the false Uchiha and his offering.

The man edged back, his face a mixture of horror and disgust.

Katsuro glanced down. In the pooling light of the doorway, the scroll looked horrible. It was filthy and half-crushed. The seal hung off in tatters. And it was covered in blood. Sakura’s blood.

The whole thing made Katsuro dangerously mad. Heat flared in his chest.

“You were expecting it, right?” Katsuro shoved the scroll at the man. “Then just take it!”

Scowling, the man pinched an end and tugged it out of Katsuro’s outstretched palm, holding it at a distance as if it stunk.

Without another word, he slid the door closed in Katsuro’s face. Katsuro blinked in the darkness for a moment, then turned and dashed back off the porch. Grinding his teeth, he was glad for the run to burn off the anger. He’d knew feel even better once he was far enough to shed that damned disguise.

---

Sliding the door closed, the house man glided purposefully across the glossed floor to a red lacquered hutch. His silks whispered over the polished wood. The paper screened walls glowed with ivory light. And at the end of the long hall, beyond a half-opened door, pleasant murmured voices drifted down from the master’s office.

The man dropped the scroll on the gilded tray atop the hutch and sniffed with disdain. The seal flapped back limply, and the blood-smudged thing looked grotesque against the glinting surface. He wished he could carry the thing in a bucket instead of sullying one of their fine trays.

Down the long hall, a rich baritone laugh rippled up. Knowing the master would frown on anything less, especially when entertaining a guest, the house man gently lifted the tray and its pitiful contents

He was halfway down the hall when a small side door opened. A young maid was just bringing up tea from the kitchen. She bobbed her head dutifully, then stepped up into the hall, about to turn and deliver their tea.

“Wait.”

With a grimace, the house man dropped the scroll into one of his deep pockets. Relieving the girl of her tea tray, he bid her to take the gilded one back to the hutch at the door. He straightened the dishes and brushed away imaginary crumbs, waiting until she returned dutifully from her task. Dismissed, she disappeared back down the stairs, sliding the small screen quietly behind her.

The house man cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders and sailed smoothly into the room. He laid out the small bowls and prepared the informal tea. Then, while the master’s guest was sampling the spread before him, the house man quietly informed his master that a scroll had been delivered.

Poised over a plate of peach buns, the cream sleeve of the guest stilled for a moment.

The master snorted, not bothering to conceal his irritation. “Took them long enough.”

The guest relaxed and gathered up the length of fabric from the arm of his silk robe to reach over the buns for another temptation.

“Well, she’s too late. I’m already more pleasantly occupied.” He flicked long fingers at the table and his guest. “I’ll see to the scroll later,” he said crisply.

The house man nodded and quietly closed the screen door behind him.

Despite the privacy, the master of the house, a diplomat with the greying temples and a black kimono, sat forward over the table, leaning toward his guest.

“If my guard from Konoha can’t see fit to deliver her missive promptly,” he said with in a conspiratorial whisper, “then whatever they have to say will have to wait. Because right now,” he poured tea for his guest, “I am much more interested in what you were telling me….”

His guest, a handsome man in cream silks, flashed him a broad, curving smile. “Yes it is a very unique opportunity….”

He dropped a small pouch of coins on the table, letting the strings fall open so a hint of the contents was visible. The diplomat’s eyes widened.

The guest’s smile grew wider, rippling up a dashing half-moon scar at the top of his cheek. “When I heard about it, I instantly thought of you….”

Back down the long hall, the house man tugged open the never-used center drawer in the red lacquer hutch and unceremoniously dumped in the scroll. It rolled once, echoing pathetically in the empty darkness. He skidded the drawer shut, dusted his hands and floated back down the hall to attend to his other duties.

---

Sakura snapped her head up at the sound of footsteps. But it was just Katsuro walking back down the moon-splattered walk. He’d dropped the henge, but she thought she’d probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. She knew the slope of his shoulders, the soft curve of his arms with his hands loosely jammed in his pockets. He looked tired or troubled.

She leaned against the tree and watched him approach, a little smile of greeting curving up her lips. She had healed her ribs enough to move around, but not much more. Even propping against the tree was to help conserve energy. She was going to need all she could get to make it at least partway to the Fire Country borders without stopping to rest.

She blew out a breath and pushed off the tree to standing, smiling brighter despite her barely patched injuries. But when Katsuro was close enough to see her, his face only registered concern.

He didn’t speak, instead looked over the wounds on her arms, her neck. His hands were suddenly out, fingers spread like he would like to touch her, but he held back. Katsuro frowned at a line of dried blood coming from the back of her head. His eyes followed it’s path out from under her hair and down her neck.

Sakura smiled, brushing it with her fingers. “It’s ok. More scrape than head wound.”

Katsuro nodded and shoved his hands back into his pockets. “Looks like you’ve got everything under control here, then.”

He turned and without a word set to erasing their tracks and disposing of the bodies. Katsuro rose two fingers for the simple but highly effective fire jutsu standard in Konoha for disposal.

Sakura watched thinking, not for the first time, how ironic it was that he had been brought up in the Leaf nin style because of Itachi. Katsuro would fit in so well in Konoha….

Katsuro finished the bodies then moved the largest limbs out of the road, sending the small piles of ashes where the bodies used to be blowing like snow. He looked at the area where the paper bomb had exploded . Nothing he could do there. He shrugged and looked back at Sakura. She nodded in agreement. Bodies left a trail. But charred wood in a forest wasn’t worth anyone’s effort.

Katsuro darted off to get his cloak and Sakura slowly started for the main road. He was back faster than she expected. She tried to wipe the sheen of perspiration from her brow before he got too close. He pretended not to have noticed. Neither mentioned the fact she hadn’t gotten very far in his absence.

They travel slowly back out to the main road and turned at the stone marker. The moon was sinking in the sky, but there was still enough light to see by, and more importantly for them to stick to the shadows. Beside them the road was vast and luminous grey.

They talked for a while about little things, but both lapsed into silence, each weighed down by their own thoughts. Sakura was mulling Katsuro’s fighting style.

“So,” Sakura drawled as the silence stretched out between them, “you really have some unique jutsus in your arsenal.”

Katsuro coughed in surprise. “Nah, not really,” he said quickly. “It’s all just…well, it’s just looks…uh, unique.”

Sakura slanted a smile at him. He was either modest or hiding his skills.

“Still, you have a style that’s all your own.” Sakura continued when Katsuro stayed quiet. “It was pretty powerful. Hey, what was that one move—”

“Oh, it was all just an act really,” Katsuro said, cutting her off. “Part of the justsu to look like that Uchiha.”

Sakura held her rib cage, unable to prevent a laugh from burbling up. “Who Sasuke? You looked nothing like him!

Katsuro looked at her, stricken.

“I mean, you look like him…but you’re moves, everything about you is different. The appearance was right, but you look nothing like him. It still looks like you. Just in disguise.” She looked sideways at him, catching his eye and smiling softly.

He smiled back. Somehow it made him unwind inside.

He grinned mischieviously. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You mean like at the little girl’s farm?” Sakura laughed once. He looked to the road, remembering last summer, when his antics as her teammate always elicited laughter from her. But when he turned back to Sakura again, wondering why she was quiet now, he found her grimacing and clutching her side.

Seeing she was caught, she turned her face to hide the pain. But it was too intense. Her breathing was coming in short stabs. She stopped walking.

Katsuro came around in front of her and watched with deep concern. Green chakra flickered around her hand for moment, but it was the palest he’d ever seen from her. And suddenly it was gone. Katsuro looked to her face to see if she was going to pass out right there. But instead she tested a normal breath, then gave a wobbly smile.

Katsuro blew out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His gaze snagged on the trickle of blood on her neck. It looked slick in the moonlight. He frowned. Suddenly all hesitation was gone.

He stepped forward, cupped her jaw and tipped her head gently to the side. Her neck was still pale and smooth, just as he remembered it. He ran a hand up her hair, letting his fingers trace down the blood, wiping it away has he went. He didn’t dare let his hand linger there, but he couldn’t stand to see blood on the little slip of neck, that spot that he remembered from so long ago in the temple.

He slid his hands slowly away and shoved them in his pockets. But he didn’t step back.

Sakura straightened, letting the tendrils of hair fall back over her neck. They moved in some unseen breeze that danced around her throat. Katsuro looked up to see her smile. She was tired, but that light was in her eyes. The one he remembered from last summer.

Katsuro cleared his throat. “You’re really hurt.”

“I’m ok.” She smiled as if she really meant it, but Katsuro saw through it.

“You’re not.” Katsuro could see the purple bruises blossoming under eyes and at her jawline. Her ribs were cracked, her punctures were weeping and the unknown injury at the back of her head had started leaking blood again.

Every scrape, every bruise, every wound felt like it had been done to him as well. He looked at her, his expression as serious as his thoughts, and wondered at the depth of this new feeling. He’d suffered plenty of injuries, but these wounds cut much deeper.

She looked away, misunderstanding his severe look.

“I ran out of chakra,” she said regretfully. “I wasn’t prepared for a third. The two I thought I could manage.” She shrugged. “I thought it was a robbery, and once they realized I was a shinobi they’d back off. But maybe that was the point.” She looked away. “Because when the third came, the shinobi, I was already wearing down.”

She shook her head and slowly continued walking. Katsuro stood for a moment, watching her, unable to find the right words, then began walking too.

They continued on in silence. At length, a fork in the road loomed ahead. Konoha was still a long, long way off, but this road turned south toward the Fire Country borders.

Sakura, sensing that the end for them was near, rallied for a few last questions.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it this time.” She peeked over at him “You seemed so…different the last time I saw you.”

“Oh….” Katsuro realized she meant at the festival. He was a mess then, no doubt. “Uh…I was just really…uh, really tired. I guess I was acting pretty weird huh?” He shot her a quick grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Sakura was sure there was more to the story, but a spasm shot through her ribs, robbing her of breath.

She stopped and held her side. Just held it. Katsuro couldn’t understand why until he saw the sputtering light just at the edges of her fingers. It flared once then snuffed out completely.

It was enough to make breathing easier. But not much else. Sakura plastered on a smile. Katsuro frowned, completely unconvinced.

She continued walking, making it nearly to the fork before stopping again. Speaking softly to herself, Sakura calculated the distance she still had to go. Then her shoulders drooped.

“I think,” she slowly scanned the area, “I think I’ll rest here before heading back down. I have a few cracked ribs and—”

Katsuro looked aghast. “I’m not going to just leave you out here!”

A tired smile flickered across Sakura’s face. “It’s no problem. Once I replenish my chakra, then I can mitigate the injuries and movement will be a lot easier—”

Katsuro shook his head firmly. “Didn’t you say that the longer a wound is untreated, the harder it is to heal?”

Ignoring her confused look, he stepped closer and gently lifted up her arm. He twisted it slightly, slipping his hand up her smooth forearm and stopping at her elbow. He ran his thumb over the long pink scar hidden below the crease of her arm.

Sakura bit her lip and watched his hand. His thumb moved in a featherlight strokes, and his palm was warm around her arm.

Katsuro looked at the mark, the scar he had left her with after the trek up that mountainside two years before. She needed him now, just as then. He could make the difference. Something slipped into place in his chest.

He’d make everything right. It was terrifying, but he knew what he had to do. 

Katsuro looked up at her with hard determination. His eyes flashed blue in the reflected moonlight.

“I’m not going to leave you. I’ll get you…” his voice hitched, “home…. Even if I have to carry you.”

Sakura laughed softly. “Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” She pulled her arm back, waved him off and began walking. But after just a few steps she was forced to stop again. And this time there was no disguising it: She was exhausted.

Sakura leaned her hand on a tree, but it looked like she might slip off at any moment.

Katsuro’s eyes brimmed with concern…and resolve.

“Please, let me carry you,” he repeated, this time more firmly. “I can carry you, then you can rest, then that Tsunade lady can fix everything, just like you said. right?”

She held her rib cage and shook her head, but he insisted. “Please. Let me do this for you.”

Sakura frowned at the idea, even though she was swaying on her feet. Katsuro smiled. He understood her. It wasn’t in her nature to rely on someone else.

“Sakura-chan, if we were teammates, wouldn’t I be helping you home? Any way I could?”

She curled her hair behind her ear. Katsuro’s smile grew.

“C’mon. We’ll do it together.” He turned around, offering her his back.

Sakura blew out a low breath, clearly putting her pride aside. Katsuro gently hoisted her up.

She sagged comfortably against him, proving to Katsuro that she was in far worse shape then she let on.

But she breathed deeply, and Katsuro was suddenly aware of her soft curves, molding into his back. He shifted his grip, trying not to hold her too tightly, but he was alive to every inch of her touching against him The first sparks of an entirely new kind of heat kindled inside.

He stamped it out.

“Tell me about….” He cleared his throat, realizing he hadn’t quite formed a sentence in his mind before he started speaking. “Uh…. Tell me about what happened.”

Sakura pressed her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. “Well, those guys ambushed me…. I thought the other two were thieves. But they were just there to wear me out. And when the third showed up, I was almost out of chakra.” Her voice was full of regret. ” I’d probably be a goner if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Did they say what they wanted?”

“No,” he heard the frown in her voice, “no they didn’t. But the one guy knew who I was—”

“He said your name?”

She shook her head, dragging tendrils of hair across his neck. “No.” She paused. “He knew my hair….”

Katsuro’s body temperature spiked. His cheeks went red with anger. He could imagine what Wei would have said to her—

“It’s ok. It’s no big deal,” she said, smoothing a hand over his hot shoulder. “But he was serious about killing me. He killed the other one just to get to me. He’d gotten in the way.”

“Bastard,” Katsuro hissed.

“He must have known me from the other missions.” She shrugged and turned her face against his shoulder.

“How would he have known you?”

“Word-of-mouth, I suppose. It wasn’t really a secret that I was handling these missions. Even though I didn’t do a whole lot.” She hitched her shoulders again. “I don’t know, must have been someone with an interest in one of the deals. Maybe a jilted clan or businessman.”

“So,” he tried not to sound too desperate, “what did you do on these missions. Exactly.” She didn’t answer. He panicked. “I mean, I thought you were there to be a medic, so…was I wrong?”

He knew he was wrong. And he was hoping she would correct him, the she would say something, anything. But maybe she’d seen right through him. He must have sounded really desperate.

“Or, you know…. Like when you healed that kid on that very first mission—”

Sakura finished a long, silent yawn. Katsuro nearly stumbled in relief. “Yeah, but that was just in my spare time. I did extra stuff when I could. But that wasn’t what they hired me to do.”

“Ah. So, what was it they hired you to do?” He listened hard.

“Well, I was there for protection. That’s the short answer. I was there as a representative of Konoha to help them enforce their rules and alliances.”

Katsuro looked hard at the woods in front of him, not seeing any of it. His false idea of Sakura was coming into line with this new picture. She was the one they were after. It had to be. “Oh, I see….”

“Yeah, so….” She continued on as if he should have always known exactly what she was doing. She oversaw their alliances, standing at meetings as a silent representative of Konoha. Which carried it’s own weight, she supposed, but she was sure to never interfere. Just offer protection. She listed out a smattering of places she’d visited. Katsuro’s eyes went wide.

“But that would mean that you were visiting towns all over the territories,” he said, desperate to find a way he could be wrong. “And I don’t remember you visiting those—”

“Oh, a lot of them I visited on the way home. I usually had two or three assignments each time I went out. Sometimes a lot more.” She laughed. “It feels like I went everywhere last summer.”

Katsuro rubbed a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid?

She misinterpreted the movement. “Are you getting tired? Do you need to rest?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m good.”

Which was a bald lie. The pieces were all falling into place with sickening clarity. He saw it all. And she had no idea….

“Well, Tsunade thinks there might be something more going on, one of other countries is on the move…but I haven’t seen any evidence of it. You haven’t seen anything like that? Have you?”

“No, not at all,” he said softly. Katsuro was glad she couldn’t see his face. It made lying a little easier. And there was nothing left to do but lie.

“You deal with some pretty shady characters. But do you ever cross paths with any other shinobis?”

“No…. Only shady characters, like you said. Thieves and thugs.”

“So you do still…steal? Like in those ambushes”

“Uh…yeah,” he said quietly. For now.

She was silent too. Long enough that Katsuro thought she might be nodding off.

“Do you still…. Does Itachi still run your group?”

Katsuro paused. “I don’t know.” He thought about the events of the past few days. “I’m not that close to him anymore.”

“Oh.”

She lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Katsuro pressed his advantage, afraid he might give something away if she kept questioning him. “Why don’t you try to get some rest.”

She sighed and agreed, turning her head and breathing against his neck. “You’re warm,” she said softly. Her hair slipped over his shoulder and she adjusted herself more comfortably against his back.

Katsuro tried not to think about it. But he couldn’t ignore the soft warmth of her against him. It was an unexpected solace in the face of everything else that had happened.

He knew every variety of scalding heat. He knew the telltale simmer in his chest when he was concerned, and the blistering burn in his muscles when he fought. And he had a fairly good idea what it must feel like to burn alive, remembering his few times at the demon’s gate.

But the soothing heat of her body curling around his was completely new. He never knew it could be so wonderful, so soft and warm. He breathed into it, feeling the fullness of being so completely trusted, so completely accepted.

She breathed deeply too, and gently pressed her cheek against his shoulder, squeezing him a little tighter.

A small smile touched his lips. Maybe she feels the same. He brushed his fingertips over her leg in response.

She was silent and unmoving for a while. Katsuro thought she drifted off, but she roused to ask another question.

“So, what exactly is your power?” She cleared her throat, her voice thick and drowsy. “Is it a bloodline? Or was that some kind of jutsu? I’d never felt anything like it—”

“You felt something?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “like a big rush of power. It was, um…overwhelming.”

Katsuro knew what she withheld. The feeling was sickening. His true power, the demon’s chakra, rolled off of him in waves, assaulting those around him with a feeling of dread. A deep, inescapable terror. Only they didn’t know why.

The first sign was always nausea. He never let it go farther than that.

“I didn’t notice.” He forced himself to sound casual. “Must have been the other guy.”

Sakura didn’t answer. Maybe she was searching for something else to say. Maybe it was enough. He didn’t know…and it didn’t matter anyway. A few moments later her breathing modulated, and she was asleep.

He followed the road down, down, till he saw the old stone marker at Fire Country border, tilting out at an angle, weeds high around it.

He paused. Sakura breathed softly. He knew what he said, promising to take her “home.” And he meant to do it. He’d get her to that damn place. Close, but not too close….

He just didn’t realize how deep and firm and alive those old fears still were. Not just of Konoha but of the whole Fire Country as well. Time had not dimmed it.

Katsuro drew in a low breath trying to quell the nervous energy. Surprisingly, the normally malicious warmth in his mid-section moved with him. And when pushed off, leaving the pale marker behind him and crossing the border he swore he’d never cross again, he had the strange sensation of being in harmony with the demon’s chakra for the second time that night. He couldn’t account for it. But it did make him feel better.

He moved quickly and quietly down through the Fire Country. Past sleeping farms where the only movement was the swinging of cow tails, the only sound an occasional dog bark. Past rolling blue fields ringed by scrubby woodlands.

Sakura slept soundly on his shoulder. The landscape was peaceful, but his nervousness didn’t let him feel any of it. It was unsettling coming back into this land of his birth and see it through a stranger’s eyes. In his mind, the place was a trap. And any piece of it might snag him and pull him under. But nothing emerged from the serene landscape to capture him.

The farms were large and productive. Well maintained and stocked enough to provide trade with a large shinobi village. They clearly enjoyed the bountiful wealth of the Konoha, as well as it’s protection. The farmlands he saw in the territories were thinly produced and the farmers were suspicious. Their lives were tough, and their yields moreso. But here beneath the low half moon, the Fire Country looked positively bucolic.

A breeze ruffled his bangs. Sakura sighed. Tipping his head to the side, he saw her hair had fallen over her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it back. She didn’t stir.

He let his fingers linger on her cheek, and just enjoyed the warm weight of her, and the fact that he had someone to care for. It was intoxicating. She trusted him. Completely.

She relied on him. And no one relied on him. She needed him when no one did. She believed in him—

But he was bound to disappoint her. He dropped his hand back to her leg. At least he could do this one thing for her — he could get home.

A dog barked nearby. Katsuro turned sharply at the sound. The warmth in his chest moved with him again. Not quite burning up his insides, but instead surrounding him, insulating him. Ready to protect him from advancing shinobi…or stray dogs.

Ahead, the great forest ran in a black line on the horizon. He moved steadily toward it.

Katsuro had studied the maps and terrains of all the territories, as Itachi thought it was prudent for him to at least know the geographic location of the other shinobi villages. For him, they were all the enemy. But he never mentioned Konoha. He didn’t have to. Katsuro had never been able to scrub the location out of his mind.

But as it turned out, that awful knowledge had come in handy. Now, with Sakura dead asleep on his shoulder, he still knew exactly which direction to go.

He slipped soundlessly across the last fields and disappeared into the dark, enveloping woods. Somewhere in there, he knew he’d find Konoha.

Sakura didn’t move. He could barely breathe. He slipped past the first line of large tree trunks, sure there would be shinobis lurking just inside the tree line. But none appeared.

So he started watching for other shinobi traps, trip wires or look-out posts. But there were none. He even pinched himself once to make sure he hadn’t walked through a genjutsu haze without realizing it. It hurt enough to assure him his senses weren’t deadened by a genjutsu.

So he trekked deeper. Before long he picked out a shinobi trail. In dark shadows he followed it, always staying a safe distance away in case he was spotted. But he never encountered a soul.

Which made him irrationally mad. Were they so arrogant, with their thick walls that they weren’t concerned about defense? Who did they think they were? That they were so powerful that they were immune to attack. They could hide behind their walls, let their “impervious chakra” defense do the work.

Padding through the black forest, he raced through memories of that village, ones he hadn’t thought of in years. He went further and further until the ground softened under his feet.

Sakura shifted on his back with a stirring sigh. Katsuro slowed.

The ground was indeed much softer here. Trees ringed them like a room. And it had grown dark. Very dark. Shit. He’d been watching the grey strip of path. But maybe he was already in the shadow of the wall—

“We are we?” Sakura said tiredly.

“Uh…we’re close. I think.”

Sakura slid off his back and gingerly checking her ribs. “Still sore, but they’ve set.”

Katsuro watched her in the dim light, trying to ignore the cold air slipping over his back, stealing the warmth from where Sakura’s body had been.

She peered hard into the darkness, then out at the strip of grey path far beyond the columns of trees. She took a few steps around. The moss of the ground was very thick. Good for concealing footsteps….

But her face brightened with recognition. “Yes. I know exactly where we are. Konoha’s walls aren’t far from here.”

Katsuro looked away. Then this was were they parted. He stepped back into the deeper darkness.

Sakura read his movements and understood instantly. “Please,” she whispered, reaching for him, “please, don’t….”

Katsuro stopped. Pale light framed Sakura’s face. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful—.

“Please don’t go back.” Sakura reached for the edge of his cloak. “Stay here…. Come home with me. It can be your home too….”

She looked desperate. He thought she looked the way he felt. And he couldn’t move.

“Katsuro….”

He snapped out of his trance. Katsuro shook his head and backed away from her grasp. “No. I told you. I can’t,” he said roughly.

Sakura frowned and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Why?” She pleaded. “What’s keeping you with them? Nothing! If you stayed with me, I’d be your partner. I’d keep you safe. And I’d protect you from them.”

But he still shook his head no.

“I’m finished with these solo missions. Done. I won’t be able to leave on my own anymore.”

Katsuro looked away, wounded by her words. But he still said nothing.

“Don’t you see?” Sakura’s eyes shined with tears. “After this, I won’t be able to see you again!”

Katsuro nodded his head miserably.

He knew. He knew. 

“Then this is it?! This is the end?” Sakura said, incredulous tears spilling down.

His face said it all.

Sakura was suddenly angry. “Don’t you even care?”

Katsuro shut his eyes. He didn’t have words enough to tell her how much he cared….

“You’re just going to choose them over me? I’d…. I’d do anything for you!”

This only made him feel more wretched. Because he felt the same. He’d do anything for her…. And that’s why it has to be this way.

“I’ll keep you safe! Just come home with me!”

He raked his fingers through his hair. There was nothing he can say. His whole life was a lie. And he didn’t want to lie any more. This time, he wanted to tell the truth.

“Please, just stay—”

He’d never found the right words…. But he could show her.

In a swift movement, Katsuro stepped forward, clamped his hands around her arms and crushed his mouth to hers. Sakura’s eyes went wide. Her voice died. But she softened her mouth against his and returned his kiss.

It was salty with tears, desperate and sweet. Sakura’s fingertips found Katsuro’s damp cheeks. It seemed to set him ablaze. He slipped an arm around her waist, plunged a hand up into the cool silk of her hair and slanted his mouth over hers. Sakura instinctively tilted her head, deepening the kiss.

Her soft hands slipped around to the back of his neck. She tangled her fingers through his hair, kissing him deeply, letting her body drift into his.

Katsuro wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to him. He moaned softly against her mouth, and a sudden rush of warm air spiraled around them. It skittered up her throat and curled up the edges of her hair. Tears stung her eyes again, even as she moved her mouth with his. This swirling warmth was all him. It made her want to never let go.

“Please,” she pleaded between kisses. “Please stay….”

“I can’t,” he whispered, breath hot on her lips. There were no words to explain it. It was all lies. He pulled her closer, as if to drive out all the distance between them. Maybe if they were close enough, nothing could come between them. It’s still just the two of them. And they were still ok.

“It could be so good here,” she pressed.

She was so earnest it ached inside him. His resolve slipped a notch, and the idea flickered to life. That everything would be alright. That she would just fold him into her life, the one he knew so well from her stories. That it could be his life too—

“Please…. Katsuro….”

The name jarred him. That was who she knew. That was who she wanted. A disguise.

He kissed her again, hard. It was raw and desperate and tasted of tears. But it couldn’t shut out the truth.

“Sakura, I…I….” His voice was hoarse. “I just can’t.”

She pulled back. “If you can’t stay, then…then…I’ll find you!” He shook his head and tried to silence her with another kiss but she dodged it. “I won’t stop! I’ll find you! I don’t care who you’re with—”

“No. You can’t. It’s too dangerous.” He closed his eyes and brought his forehead to hers. “Just stay in your village. Don’t look for me.”

She pulled back, ready with another protest that he knew would twist his heart in his chest. She’d never give up. He knew she wouldn’t. So he held her firmly to him and made a snap decision.

He had to do it. And he hated it.

“I’ll…. I’ll come,” he said wretchedly, never opening his eyes.

“What?” Sakura gasped. “You will? You’ll come home with—”

“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I’ll come to you. Don’t look for me. I’ll…I’ll find you.” He said it as if the words were hurting him. She whimpered in soft misunderstanding. Katsuro felt horrible. “I-I promise.”

He pulled her into his embrace and buried his head in her hair, stealing every touch and memorizing every inch of her.

“Ok,” she said over his shoulder. “Ok. Just promise. Promise me that you’ll come.” Her voice was thick with tears.

“I promise. I promise.” Katsuro grew more sure of himself. “I’ll come to you. I’ll find you. Just stay here. Your team is strong right?” He pulled back to look into her face. She nodded emphatically. “Always, always, stay with them. Never go out alone again. And I’ll come, I promise.”

“Ok, just promise.”

He’d promise her anything just to make it alright. Happy to have words that gave her some comfort, he repeated the words into her hair, between kisses on her tear-slicked cheeks, over and over until he didn’t know what he was promising anymore.

Katsuro pulled her into his embrace, trying to memorize the feeling of her in his arms. Telling himself to go, but knowing, knowing that leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do.

He squeezed tighter, never wanting to let her go— but his embrace cut right across her hurt ribs.

Sakura shrieked suddenly and arced into him. He let go in an instant, but her involuntary cry was loud enough to echo off the trees around them.

From the direction of Konoha, shouts rang out in response.

Sakura turned, her profile illuminated in cold blue from the shinobi path. “A patrol unit….”

He cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her soft skin.

“Sakura,” he breathed.

She turned quickly, leaning into his caress, and covered her hand with his.

“Katsuro…. I….”

The patrollers voices rang out closer.

With a growl of frustration he tore himself out of her grasp and backed away.

“I— I’m sorry, Sakura,” he said, eyes hard and shining in the darkness. “I’m so sorry.”

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she might have said was swept under by the shouts of the patrollers.

“Who goes there? Show yourself!”

Beams of light stabbed through the black woods around them.

Sakura spun and called with a tremulous gulp, “Hey! Over here!”

She was distracting them. This was his only chance. He silently slipped back into the shadows of the treeline and waited.

“Over here! It’s only….” Her voice cracked. “It’s only me,” she said, choking back tears.

Her trembling words ripped through Katsuro. But it worked: The shafts of light pinpointed on Sakura.

“Haruno-san! You just getting in? Whattya doin’ out here—”

“Oi! Can’t you see she’s hurt? C’mon, you need some help?”

“Yeah,” she said thickly. “Thanks.”

The sound of voices and footsteps faded away.

Katsuro scrubbed an arm over his face, pushed off from the tree and disappeared into the darkness.

She had done it. She’d made an opening for him to get away safely. He should be grateful….

He picked up speed, moving faster and faster, trying leave the heartache behind in that soft hidden spot in the woods. But it clung to him, no matter how fast he went, hurting with each breath.

This was it. There were no more goodbyes for them. There was no more ‘them.’

Now it was just her. 

And him. 

He grit his teeth against a choking sob, swiped away more tears, and pushed harder.

The trees glimmered faintly red. He didn’t fight it. But even the demon’s malicious chakra couldn’t wipe away the pain.

What could he tell her. The truth? No. But lying to her felt just as bad. 

He knew he’d break those promises even as he said them. 

He wasn’t coming to her. Ever. 

Everything he’d said…. It was all a lie. 

This was the end.

What she didn’t know, what he could never ever tell her was that miles away, across the darkened landscape, was a sack of scrolls that had written out their fates.

Itachi had ordered Wei to kill her.

And he’d ordered Katsuro to undo all her missions.

Once he knew it was her, the slim map in his sack filled in the rest of the picture. The line of hold-outs, her missions, were dashed off in thick red lines. They were his jobs now, and they ran through the center of the map like a wound, cracking it in half. For them, it was an unbridgeable gulf.

At the edge of the great woods, something grabbed Katsuro’s ankle. He twisted his leg and kicked hard, the kyubbi’s chakra flooding him. He kicked so hard that when the obstacle suddenly released, Katsuro went flying out into the high grass of a pasture.

He quickly righted thinking trip wire, bo staff, hidden shinobis…. Instead he saw the jittering end of a broken branch. Katsuro shook his head, then shook his pant leg. Splintered wood fell from a new rip near his ankle.

He growled in frustration and popped his head up for a quick look around to see if there really was anyone else there at all. A few cows looked up, tails swinging cautiously, but they quickly deemed him no threat and dropped their heads, ignoring him.

Katsuro dusted himself off. He’d wait a moment, just to be sure.

Sakura was probably already inside Konoha by now, being healed. Everyone so glad to see her….

Sakura….

He had completely underestimated her. He shook his head. She had helped fortify the small towns against their unknown threat. And she had done an excellent job.

He smirked, snapping the wood splinters in his hand. She had become a thorn in Itachi’s side, and she didn’t even know it.

So Wei was to kill her, and Katsuro was to follow up and “persuade” others to their cause. Either with bribes or by force.

Katsuro narrowed his eyes. This also meant that Itachi probably didn’t know about him and Sakura. He just saw her as the Konoha shinobi who got away last time. Itachi wanted to make sure she met her end and — since Katsuro had failed last time — he sent Wei.

But disguised as Sasuke, Katsuro bought back her life. And he knew Itachi: His conceited pride would be thrilled that Sasuke had thwarted Wei, their best assassin.

And though Sakura was still alive, the mission technically had not failed. She was certainly out of the picture. Now Katsuro could move in and do his part of the job. And he would.

Sakura was still depending on him, although she’d never know it. By fulfilling these missions, Katsuro would make sure  Itachi never suspected her.

Katsuro took one last look at the dark woods, knowing what was hidden deep inside.

He hated that village. He hated it’s power and everything it stood for. He hated what it had done to him. But if that place kept her safe, then he was grateful for it.

As long as she stayed inside Konoha’s walls she’d be alright.

The thought buoyed him. He scrubbed away the tracks of tears, turned and pushed off hard, pumping warm chakra to his legs. He moved faster and faster across the fields. That strange harmony returned, energizing him when he should have been exhausted. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

He swept his gaze across the horizon. He had months and months of work ahead of him. Yet he’d do it all gladly.

He’d do everything Itachi asked of him.

And he’d do it to protect her.

The dark sky behind him was fading. The moon was gone from the sky. And he still had the scroll to get to Rain by nightfall. Katsuro lowered his head and pushed on.