Queen of Air and Darkness

xi. the trick which is played on youth

Convalescing in the Sugakure hospital should have been a relaxing experience. It should have been a time for rejuvenation and relaxation, an opportunity for Sakura to get some much-needed rest after the nights sleeping in tents and the battle with Sasori.

And for a single night, it was. However the wound at her side dictated that she not travel for at least a week, and worse, avoid strenuous activity for at least two more after that. It took every ounce of Sakura's training as a healer not to whine at the operating surgeon. Knighthood was nothing but strenuous activity. She couldn't afford to languish here in bed, letting her skills rust and putting her life in danger the next time she was under attack.

In the end, several very good points prevailed. First, Kurenai came to visit her bearing flowers and congratulated her on her victory, informing her that she had earned the rest.

Second, the head healer was brought in to remind her that too many magical healing could make the body resistant to future work.

Then, Kakashi arrived, and delicately reminded her that in the aftermath of the Akatsuki attacks, every hand was needed to stabilize the many guardsmen, townspeople, and miscellaneous nobles that were suffering from potentially fatal injures.

That third point, in particular, quieted her. The healer in her could not stand the risk of others dying for her own comfort, and the blushing girl in her could not stand to seem petulant in front of Kakashi.

This also contributed to her discomfort. Kakashi's drifted in and out of her room, dropping off choice delicacies from street stalls in the city and leaving behind anxiety and confusion in his wake. She had been granted a private room, one of the few perks of nearly dying for this city, and that should have been perfectly amenable to more open conversation.

She tried, once, to get him to stay by her bedside longer and discuss something more complex than the weather and interesting food. Trustingly, Kakashi had sat down for a moment, sliding Sakura a plate of chicken on a stick he had purchased from an old woman who had (allegedly) told him his future.

"And what does the future hold, Sir Hatake," Sakura teased, taking a bite from the admittedly delicious chicken. It had been charred and drizzled in a rich sauce that tasted mildly of peanuts. As the first rich notes of the sauce faded on her tongue, she could feel the bite of spicy red pepper.

"Naturally, it was wrong," he said, leaning back in his chair and getting comfortable. Sakura had to fight from smirking and giving away her plot. It was day three of her healing period, and although Kakashi had been dutiful in his visits, she had not failed to notice how short they were and how eager he was to avoid a long conversation. "She seems to think I am going to retire from combat, and live to be old on land I farm myself, surrounded by grandchildren."

"Is that so absurd," she teased. Despite herself, interest burned within her at that final detail. Strangely, she found herself protective of what Kakashi's future might entail and who, exactly, would be involved.

"Yes," he replied flatly. "I despise agriculture."

Sakura's laugh was quick enough to surprise even her, bright and cheery and gone just as fast; stopped by the need to protect her wound from yet another reopening.

"So what are your plans for the future," she asked, easing gently into more dangerous territory. The thought of old seeresses selling chicken had been enough to unbalance him and draw him into her lair, but she had to be careful not to spook him.

"Oh, the usual: die in battle, gloriously and in such a way that people sing ballads about me forever." He was voice sounded like he was joking, it was light and breezy and he even delivered an exaggerated dismissive gesture to punctuate the whole performance. But something in his shoulders, and the anxious way he tapped his foot on the hard sand of the floors, made her suspicious.