[Naruto][Haruno Sakura][G]
Title: But the flowers slip and they drop out
Author: array-of-colors / Eve
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Prompt: 115. A cultivated style would be like a mask. Everybody knows it's a mask, and sooner or later you must show yourself -- or at least, you show yourself as someone who could not afford to show himself, and so created something to hide behind. -- Katherine Anne Porter. (not used)
Summary: Future AU. Sakura returns to Konohagakure and reminisces. Spoiler for Naruto's parentage. Much love and thanks to desert_anbu for beta-ing.
Naruto © Kishimoto Masashi, et al.
The guards at the village entrance asked her the routine questions - they were no older than fifteen, and unapologetically bored. Enemies swooping down from the sky or a troop of hostile shinobi were what they hankered after; the sedate-looking lady with thinning, pale-strawberry hair was just another visitor. Sakura nodded at the guards as they waved her through, feeling guilty in her conviction that she had not been so naive at fifteen. Neither did she recall a policy in favor of stationing evidently inexperienced teens (what lofty heights age afforded you with!) at one of the most crucial spots in the village. Perhaps the current Hokage had his own considerations.
The main street was alive with children coming home from the academy. She walked past them, their friendly catcalls, goofing around, and careless laughter. They did not make her feel old or nostalgic - these children's turn would arrive, as hers had, and none too soon. In a country like this, destiny was a giant waiting room.
She saw the Yamanaka florist shop, slowed down. When she had last seen it, Ino was putting up a new sign which she had designed herself - all bright colors and floral motifs. The sign was still there, a little flaky around the edges but still jaunty and self-confident.
Ino would be inside, tending to customers, the account book, or the merchandise. Sakura saw herself walk through the door and see Ino's face - first stunned, then thrilled. Together they could relive the days before Ino was forced to sign off from missions due to injuries. Ino would adopt a nonchalant attitude, saying missions were a menace to a girl's skin anyway, and staying out of the sun would prevent wrinkles from appearing too early. Sakura would agree with this, pretending to miss the quaver in Ino's voice. Ino would then offer Sakura some more tea, declaring that she had turned into quite a beverage connoisseur in her advanced age.
Sakura moved on.
---
If the guards at the village entrance had been youths, the guards at the Hokage's office building were the usual lot: weathered, stern-faced men in their mid-thirties with resolutely alert eyes. They recognized her - from her hair or from the scar running across her jaw, or both - and politely escorted her in.
The Hokage sat behind his desk, looking enviably younger than he really was and more forbidding than Sakura remembered. He told her to have a seat, and she pulled a chair close to the desk.
"You seem to be doing well," she said, because that was the thing you normally said to friends you had not seen in over thirty years.
"You're not doing badly yourself. We hear about you every now and then."
She knew better than to be modest. "I owe it to Tsunade-sama - to not waste all her teachings, and to pass them on. I've only got two pupils, but they're both very brilliant and dedicated. I can only hope Tsunade-sama had had half as much joy mentoring me."
"That's good to hear. Where are your pupils now?" Affable, probing - on guard. The village must have endured many a cunning foe during the past few decades.
"Oh, they're like me - they don't want to be tied down, so they roam all over the place. For all I know, they might even turn up in Konohagakure soon." She smiled, not in the hope of disarming him, but because she had no reservation in showing her pride, and wanted him to know that. "I referred them to you - said you'd take them in if they're ever in need of a job. Did I overstep myself?"
"Not at all."
"May I ask one thing? The guards at the entrance gate are awfully young - well, I suppose they're young from our point of view. I'm not saying it's bad. It wasn't customary when I lived here, that's all."
The fine creases on his forehead deepened. "Those two were on a mission to get some object for the client. The client insisted on going with them, even after he was told it'd be dangerous. The object was retrieved. The client lost a finger in an ambush. I ordered a salary cut and assigned guard duty for those two - three weeks, minimum. While the whole mess was partly the client's fault, it was also their duty to ensure his safety."
Sakura was half-amused, half-proud. "The punishment should have been harsher, if you don't mind me saying so."
"I don't mind, and it will definitely be - for their next failure. Have you got a place to stay? If not, I can offer you mine. My grandkids happen to be visiting, though, so it may get a bit noisy. They're a rowdy bunch."
"That's very kind of you, but I've already planned to spend the night at my father's house. Well, maybe I'll go to Naruto's grave first. I haven't been there for the longest time."
They both stood up. She saw that she had been slightly mistaken about the Hokage: the light from the window brought out his own strands of white hair, which had not been so prominent when he was sitting down. He now seemed what he was - a tough, seasoned leader, a man that his twelve-year-old self would have scowled at.
"Please give my best regards to your family," she said. "I may drop by sometime tomorrow." She knew, as he did, that she was more likely to leave in the morning. The disconcerting memories were too many, the village too crowded - and she had been far too used to open air and unexplored boundaries.
---
Naruto's grave was meticulously looked after - by hired hands, Sakura thought, severely practical. There were no overgrowths and the letters on the gravestone were perfectly legible. Even the mound of earth appeared symmetrical. Closing her eyes, she murmured a prayer for him - a short, to-the-point plea that made no excuses for the lost years. Her prayer finished, she knelt down and laid a gentle hand on the grave.
He died like his father had, protecting the village. The cause would not have bothered him; the death itself would, sorely, as it thwarted him of his opportunity to become a Hokage. Not that he would begrudge the current Hokage his position; it was not in him. She could see him now, clapping the Hokage on the back, before going off to have an extremely short-lived (since when did she acquire a penchant for puns?) pity-party.
The sun was sinking behind the trees. Pushing herself to her feet, Sakura brushed aside images of cozy conversations held with friends - friends with silvered hair and the passage of time etched on their faces. Combat and medical skills were not all she had absorbed from Tsunade. There were instances when the past, indeed, belonged nowhere else other than a closed scrapbook.