Sakura Shippuden (#2 Sakura Trilogy)

Sakura Shippuden: [Chapter 4]

Inoichi, Shikaku, and Ibiki all sighed simultaneously. The head of the Nara clan took a long drag from his cigarette before tapping the end onto a little blue ashtray. "I'm tired of hitting dead ends."

"She's not entirely a Senju, we now know. We need to narrow down which area the mother could have come from based on genetic markers. Most clans, even the smallest, have some quirk in their genes that sets them apart. Perhaps we could start with how Sakura got her pink hair. That's a start." Inoichi glanced at the ceiling thoughtfully while tipping his chair back.

Ibiki nodded stoically. "Is it possible she could be related to the Uzumaki clan? They're infamous for having red hair. Although, she wouldn't have pink hair; she would have red hair. Unless there was a genetic mutation in her code that caused her hair to become lighter."

"But even that's a reach. We'll need to dig even deeper, and I don't feel like doing so. My wife's gonna kick my ass." Shikaku shrugged his shoulders, cracked his neck, then slowly left the room.

The Yamanaka head stood too, nearly knocking over the ashtray. "Shit. I've gotta go too." The look on his face could only be described as pure terror.

Ibiki sighed and stared at the ashes sombrely. "I'm glad I don't have a wife or kids."

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Sakura slipped into her sandals, leaning against the wall to do so. She grunted, shrugging on her coat, then followed Kizashi and Mebuki outside of the apartment and away from the food vendors. Instead, the three arrived in front of a more lavish restaurant, which immediately sent a red alarm through Sakura's brain. She, however, kept quiet and only shot strange looks whenever one of them turned around to catch a glimpse of her. Sakura has been forced by the two to wear civilian clothing, and so a beat later she found herself sitting in the fancy chair at the fancy restaurant in a dress, of all things. There were no convenient places to hide weapons with a dress!

"Sakura," Mebuki started, pulling out a manila folder from her large purse. She shot the fidgeting Kizashi a look to cease his actions, then opened it. A thick packet was handed to Sakura, who read the title multiple times before looking up at hopeful faces. Kizashi beamed at her, while Mebuki held a more dignified smile that still showed her true feelings. "We know you haven't been with us too long, but Kizashi and I thought it was a great experience, and even though your probation is ending..." She paused to lean forward and tuck away a rebellious lock of Sakura's hair, then smoothed the top of her head affectionately. "We would like you to become a permanent member of our family."

Sakura glanced down, shellshocked, and read the title of the document again. Adoption Registration Form. And, underneath that was most of the information that had already been filled out with Mebuki's chicken-scratch handwriting. Sakura Haruno. She rolled the name around her mind, her stomach churning. Haruno. Sakura Haruno. She could be a part of their little family. Be the child they could never have. After a tense moment of looking into their eyes, Sakura said aloud, "Sakura Haruno. I like it."

The joy that the couple showed had to be mellowed down, but Kizashi loudly whispered he would have a cake done tomorrow so they could celebrate at home. Mebuki only smiled wryly, the lines near her eyes more prominent, but the soft gaze she gave Sakura made her feel... nice.

The conversation moved onto lighter topics as Mebuki slipped the papers back into her purse. The obnoxious laughter from Kizashi nearly got them kicked out more than once, and after a couple glasses of wine, Mebuki even joined in with a few giggles here and there. As for Sakura, she sat there, watching the two interact with each other. Will I be able to one day fit in with them? She pondered, then wiped her mouth after their meal was paid for by Kizashi. Sakura stood, and followed her two—dare she say it—parents out into the open air.

"It is getting colder," Sakura said to no one in particular, and then shivered as a gust of wind got through her thin jacket. She put her hands in her packets and continued forward, still trailing behind the older couple.

Trouble seemed to make a habit of finding Sakura, however.

A trio of men that were sitting outside on the street a block from the restaurant eyed all of them nonchalantly until the leader of the three caught her eye. "It's you." He surged forward, only to be held back by his companions. "Lemme go," he slurred, and Sakura held her ground. "She helped Orochimaru kill m'sister."

And with that, the two let the middle man go, and he lunged sloppily, only for Sakura to dodge him. She edged away, placing herself in between the man and the couple. The pinkette covered her nose. He smelled strongly of saké. In an instant, both Kizashi and Mebuki seemed to snap out of the after effects of alcohol, and pushed Sakura behind them protectively. "What business do you have with her," Mebuki asked coldly, her dark green eyes flashing with warning.

The man eyed them, then sneered. "None of your business, woman."

Kizashi, a gentle man that Sakura knew him to be, was now gone. She had always thought of him more as a cuddly stuffed bear rather than a threat, but as he puffed himself up, Sakura saw otherwise. "I'll take note of the fact that you're drunk and probably won't remember this altercation," the pink-haired man started, "but if you ever threaten my daughter or wife again, there will be hell to pay. And I'll make sure you never forget it." The dangerous look in his eye disappeared, and he suddenly laughed and clapped the young man too hard on the back. "It's cold outside. Maybe you should head inside, hm?"

The three men stared in shock before scrambling away, leaving Sakura's guardians—parents, she corrected herself hastily, looking smug. In the distance, she heard one of them mutter something about a crazy bitch-ass family, and then a warning smack was heard, followed by a small yowl of pain.

Sakura turned to Kizashi, who was crossing his arms in a successful attempt to make them seem larger, and Mebuki, whose gaze was still trained on the retreating men. After a long minute of silence, the two turned around and continued heading back to their apartment, Sakura walking in between them. Her chest felt heavy yet warm.

✿ ✿ ✿

Kakashi Hatake was in his own small category of truly talented shinobi. Itachi Uchiha also fit in this category. Both were deemed 'gifted' before going to the Academy, and rose through ranks until at last fighting the enemy on the battlefield. Both were forced to grow up at a young age. Both did unspeakable things that still haunt them.

Kakashi, confined to his apartment and being guarded by a team of ANBU, was not pleased with his arrangement. Four months ago, he had been confronted by Konoha's Elders. The Council has condemned Kakashi with mistreatment of the only genin team he would ever have, they concluded, and for conspiring the attack on Konoha. Would Kakashi say that he may have neglected his team? Yes. He had been perhaps lazy and without motivation, but did that make him a traitor? No. It was the Council's way of giving him the nicest possible shove in a new direction, and Kakashi wasn't feeling too inclined to listen to them. After all, the Elders, especially the honorable councilman Danzō, had only their interests in mind. And Kakashi was one of the few threats to their interests. Just like Itachi Uchiha.

He felt frustration bubble under his collected expression. It was their fault for making him this way, so why were they trying to punish him for something they did? Kakashi had been a pacifist. He hadn't wanted anything to do with killing like his father, albeit someone he admired greatly. Kakashi shut his eyes, and remembered the first time his father had come home smelling of blood. A mission gone terribly awry, he had been told. Ever since then, he had worn his mask; he couldn't stand the metallic scent. But even with his hardened expressions and sharp retorts, he couldn't help but still notice the sad glimmer in his father's eyes.

Kakashi rolled in his bed, unable to stop the train of thoughts. Pakkun lay near his pillow, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Kakashi stared at the crusties forming on the ninken's water line, and then closed his eyes, chuckling to himself. His hands squeezed the dark sheets tightly before letting go. God, (if there even was one because war was hell and no merciful god would allow that much bloodshed to happen) how naïve he had been.

[A/N]: The entire time I was writing the Mebuki-Kizashi scene I was so hyped. Also, Kakashi has made his debut in Sakura Shippuden!