Queen of Air and Darkness

i. queen of air and darkness

The day the rightful king returned to Konoha, grey clouds blocked the horizon and a light dusting of rain battered the glass of the windows. Sakura sat before the great stained-glass windows of the northwest tower, cutting the stalks out of healing herbs to grind into poultice. The grey clouds limited her vision as she worked, or else she would have been the first to know about the arrival.

Instead, she was forced to get her news in the usual way-through gossips and messengers. Kakashi Hatake, advisor to the Queen-Regent and Sakura's former mentor darkened her doorway, messenger hawk on his arm. Sakura glanced at him sideways as she worked, careful not to let the delicate skin of her hands touch the astringent herbs she ground into paste at her mortar. It would burn her flesh a bright cherry red if she slipped, and so Sakura paid Kakashi little heed from her workstation. So she did not pay close enough attention to the travel-worn look of his cloak and the wild expression in his storm-dark eyes.

"The watch has spotted riders on the horizon," Kakashi finally spoke.

"That is their job, is it not?" Sakura could not keep the hint of acid from her tone as she focused on her work. Kakashi did not seek her out frequently, an odd fact considering he was once her mentor and squadron leader. As her squadron leader Kakashi had barely had time for the slip of a girl foisted upon him—the last living Uchiha and the orphan Naruto Uzumaki demanded too much attention instead. Sakura had been forced to turn to other guides, and she had slipped out of Kakashi's attention.

Or so she had thought until Kakashi appeared before her today.

"It is a party of two," Kakashi said. "Riding alone from the west."

"Bandits?" She looked up from her work for a moment, taking him in with new suspicion. Kakashi was as impossible to read as ever, his storm grey eye wary. He wore the uniform of the castle watch, and to the untrained eye, he would look like nothing more than a guardsman returned from a particularly grueling shift. His true titles and rank were not something Kakashi liked to reveal—although the close observer could tell that Kakashi had seen battle. An eyepatch covered his right eye, a testament to the carnage he had faced. But that was not enough to know how truly dangerous Kakashi Hatake was. Sakura had seen him in battle, had seen the speed with which he could dispatch a man.

His constant lazy expression and guardsman uniform disguised one of the most dangerous men in Konoha.

But now, his usually lazy expression was gone. It was replaced with a guarded alacrity. Mere bandits would not bother Kakashi, the Knight-Captain of the Guard. The kingdom of Konoha was well armed to whether a few bandits.

"Lord Jiraiya rode at the front," Kakashi said, and Sakura felt the first chill prickle at her neck. Two years ago, Jiraiya had swept his squire away, to train him in the arts of governance and war.

Sakura's hand slipped, dipping into the poultice, burning her fingertips. She yelped at the pain, and before she could speak, Kakashi had crossed the length of the room to stand beside her. He reached out reflexively, as though to take the injured hand in his, but seemed to think better of it.

"It's nothing," Sakura hissed, wiping the offending fingertips on her pink handkerchief. For a single moment, she resented that this was how the kingdom saw her. The helpless healer that could do nothing more than grind herbs. "Nothing a healer's apprentice couldn't handle."

Kakashi's gaze narrowed slightly. "Is that what you call yourself now," he asked. "Or is that what you'll tell Naruto?" Sakura's neck tensed slightly, disliking his tone. So many people had forgotten that she was part of Naruto and Sasuke's squadron as a page, had almost forgotten that she was a full squire herself. Instead, they saw her as Tsunade's apprentice, learning healing and other womanly matters. That Tsunade was the regent of the realm did not matter, especially not now that the one true king of Konoha had returned.