Chapter Text
The letter lay spread out before the stunned face of the Fifth Hokage, who looked up hesitantly at the man standing before her.
“Are you aware of what this means?” The question slips out without thinking, clearly, when someone so well-known in the shinobi world makes a request like that... Well, there are many doubts. “You understand that this way, you’ll never be able to return to your former duties, right?”
His nod is stiff, devoid of emotion—the result of years spent doing the dirty work of a hidden village, betraying his impassive nature whenever situations escalated.
“I understand perfectly, and let me tell you that I have never been so certain of a decision in my life, Godaime-sama.”
Silence falls once more; an instinct deep within her screams at the blonde to reject the request, coldly insisting that such actions would only bring more loss than gain. The other part of her—that vulnerable fragment hidden beneath a veneer of alcohol—understands this strange behavior all too well, regaining her composure after the loss.
The ANBU’s grayish uniform was bathed in crimson, as if a massacre were about to unfold right in her arms. The word “massacre” is barbaric on her lips, a reminder of the ghosts that wander, chaining their heavy existences like shackles to the heir’s misfortune.
—All right, then... Shizune...!
...
The morning was too good to be true, the konoichi thinks as she quickens her pace. The night in Konoha is dark and ominous; the streets are completely unlit, just like in all the hidden villages, so only the moon bears witness to the weariness creeping beneath her emerald gaze. Sakura sighed as she recalled how, just minutes ago, she had received a call from an agitated Shizune, almost as annoyed as she was herself.
The houses turned into blurry smudges as her legs ran across the soundproof metal roofs, her mind working coolly, accustomed to losing sleep at random times of the day. Her mind works at the same speed as her body; she was aware that the Godaime would not interrupt her sleep (especially after a sixteen-hour shift and four surgeries), unless the matter at hand would mean a total change in the village’s economy or an immediate crisis.
The great main tower of the city where the Hokage lived grew larger and larger, drawing closer to its final destination, carrying a critical weight on his shoulders. The multiple scenarios fueled his vivid imagination, creating grotesque landscapes, bringing to the present old monsters he had believed locked away.
Another ambush on the ANBU? An SSS-rank enemy? A leak of information to enemy troops? Medical issues requiring Konohakagure’s second-best shinobi doctor?
My skin tingles with excitement. I love this stuff, shannarrō!
Inner’s voice was the last thing I needed to completely shatter the shred of mental stability I was clinging to at that moment. Panting, I dodged the masked agents who were meticulously guarding the doors, hoping not to give myself away or answer any questions without hesitation. Outside, beyond the large windows, nature cried out in silence; a constant calm hummed to the rhythm of flower petals swaying in the wind.
Swallowing hard, she knocked on the door. The faint confirmation, in that voice so familiar to her master, invited her in.
The scene was somber. The icy atmosphere squeezes her organs, forcing her to gaze at the man before her. Moonlight falls upon the figure, highlighting the raw flesh of his bare shoulders; a crimson liquid bathes him completely; that deep red blood stains him from his hair down to his hands, where a letter drips, attached to the clock face as time marches inexorably forward.
Her eyes linger on his face, devoid of a mask, etching the gaunt expression into her memory as if the world strives every morning to rob him of his will to live. The dark circles beneath his jet-black gaze are deep, leaving long, sharp lines that make him look older than he likely is.
She is aware that her gaze has been detected, that she has lingered too long in the shadow of the sorrowful man.
“Haruno” the stern voice is enough to bring her down from the cloud she had climbed onto. Holding her breath, guessing what the next orders might be “I’d like to introduce you to your new teammate. I suppose you already know him; he is…”the redhead silently curses her luck “Itachi Uchiha.”
Shit.