I was not missing, I was dead.

Today, staring out of her window, the streets of Konoha are painted with melancholy.

Senju Tsunade remembers her vow to never take up the hat. As Sarutobi-sensei changed from a young man eager to learn and experiment to a sceptical and secretive Hokage, eyes once so bright growing dimmer and dimmer, she told herself she would never accept this curse.

When Dan and Nawaki took up this dream, she'd supported them whole-heartedly. Someone like her, prone drink, quick to anger and weary of life, was not someone suited to Hokagedom. Unlike Minato. Unlike Dan.

Not that her support did anything for them, in the end.

Tsunade remembers the years spent running from Konoha with mixed feelings. She hated the ghosts that haunted her dreams, the endless debts, the restlessness in her bones that never quite settled.

But she'd loved it as well. The freedom of doing whatever she wanted. The patients she helped on the road, their gratitude so genuine that it made the food often offered in reward taste like five-star cuisine. The beauty of the world around her. The lack of regular murder.

The lack of responsibility, how the decisions she made impacted only her and Shizune. Outside of the hospital, of course, but that was the one place she welcomed responsibility because she was one hundred percent sure what to do.

Although she hid it well, Tsunade was never quite sure if she did the right thing as Hokage.

If accepting the job was even the right decision in the first place.

This way, she could keep Danzō and his craziness at bay. This way, she could make sure Konoha's hospital was top-notch. This way, she could make sure Konoha carried on the Will of Fire.

This job challenged her. It gave her a grim sort of satisfaction. It gave her respect. Power. Knowledge.

It didn't make her happy.

Releasing a deep sigh, The Fifth Hokage turned from the window overlooking Konoha. Her blonde hair swished around her, young and lush, the drain of the genjutsu ever-present on her reserves.

Not that she was ever concerned with her reserves, thanks to a certain seal.

Leaning against the edge of the Hokage's desk, the mountains of paperwork on it increasing her downtrodden mood, she pursed her lips.

Her seal was her pride and joy. Just this week, she'd gone over it with Hinata. The girl was turning out to be an excellent apprentice – not that she'd ever accept anything else. Her Byakugan was invaluable for diagnosing and treating patients. The Hyuuga was not quite suited to her fighting style, but the Strength of One Hundred technique gave her opponents a nasty surprise. As the Hyuuga heiress, her political skills were taught from birth and made her a valued ally in both the office and the hospital.

But in the end, Tsunade had been forced to conclude what she had feared.

Hinata couldn't learn the Byakugõ seal.

In the end, no matter what Tsunade tried, Hinata's chakra control simply wasn't good enough. Just one percent short, but still, not enough.

Reaching under her desk and pulling out the sake from her third hidden stash in the office – which would now be gone by morning – Tsunade closed her eyes and took a long swig.

Unlike her former apprentice.

She hoped Sakura was doing alright.

Her second apprentice was so very different from her third. Hinata's calm was one of her greatest strengths; Sakura had inherited her mentor's temper. Hinata was a natural on the political battlefield; Sakura was incredibly efficient with the administrative side of things.

Hinata was happy in Konoha. Sakura was not.

Tsunade took another swig, enjoying the burn of the liquor down her throat.

When Sakura came to her a month ago to ask for her annual leave, something she had never done before, Tsunade's heart had constricted at what she saw reflected in those emerald green eyes.

She saw herself, from so many years ago.

Unsettled. Untethered. Unsure.

Just as the Slug Princess had once needed to flee from Konoha for years, to escape her demons and find herself again, clear was it to see to those who looked that Sakura had lost her place in Konoha as well.

In that moment, Tsunade's heart gave in. She granted the leave without a second thought.

That evening, sitting by the fire, she'd cursed herself with not seeing it before.

The Fifth Hokage supposed it all went back to Sasuke. The last few weeks, she'd been making discreet inquires. She had never known Sasuke had taken such a large part of her dear apprentice's heart with him – something much bigger than puppy love.

Up until that point, Tsunade had always seen Sasuke mainly as Naruto's teammate. He was the one most vocal about the Uchiha. He was the one who was so visibly changed and hit by Sasuke's loss.

Or maybe, with Naruto, it was just easier to see.

The Uzumaki, her potential successor, the reminder of her own son and brother, taking up everyone's attention even when he did not mean to.

Yet, Sasuke had been Kakashi's and Sakura's teammate as well. The blonde medic had never stopped to think about what the impact on their life would be. Kakashi was as closed-off as ever. Sakura never really talked about it except as her motivation of becoming stronger.

(Another swig.)

When Sasuke died there were so many things happening at the same time. Back then, Tsunade had been forced, once more, to choose the village over her personal life. She'd recalled Ino as soon as plausible, sent her to Sakura, and considered the matter solved.

(There was a reason she specialized in surgery, not mental health.)

But now it turned out it wasn't quite solved after all.

Tsunade couldn't think of anything else that may have caused her apprentice's unhappiness. She didn't seem to be jealous of Hinata, as they were old friends. Her work at the hospital was as excellent as ever. Tsunade knew Sakura did not accompany Team 7 on combat missions anymore, but she'd checked that with Kakashi and he assured her everything had been alright.

Of course, given what happened last time she'd sent Sakura with them, maybe Kakashi had been glossing over things.

Alas, no changing that now.

Tsunade could admit she was not as close with the pink-haired kunoichi as they were back when she was still in training. Part of it was because Sakura had taken over her place at the hospital, co-running it with Shizune. Part of it was because of Hinata taking up her time, never mind everything that was going on with Akatsuki. Part of it was both her and Sakura not reaching out to each other.

But Tsunade knew one thing.

There was something going on with Sakura. And the blonde Senju owed it to her former apprentice to help her figure out herself.

The alcohol burned in her throat once more.

Damn all the rules, damn the council – when she returned, Tsunade would pull Sakura aside and ask her what she wanted. Needed. If she needed more time away from Konoha to come to term with things, just like Tsunade herself once did, it would be okay. If she wanted to be put full-time on Team 7 again, done.

If she wanted the fucking hat herself, yes and amen, have fun.

She wasn't going to fail her again.

Turning his head once more into the pillow, Uzumaki Naruto breathed in deeply.

He loved the smell of him and Hinata's bed. It smelled like him, like her, like sex, like sweat, and a bit like the laundry detergent they'd spent hours choosing because of his heightened sense of smell.

But most of all, it smelt like home.

Home. As an orphan, the realization he'd build his own home together with the woman he loved had left him shaken and sniffing at the drop of a hat for days.

He was so happy.

Sometimes, he could even think about Sasuke without losing track of time for the rest of the day.

The gaping hole left at his side where his best friend should be was still there, after all these years.

It would never really go away, just like the twinge in his heart whenever his name was mentioned. He'd made peace with that, mostly, after countless evenings spending talking with Hinata and even some sessions with a Hyuuga mind-healer, whatever that was. Hinata had spent long enough convincing him to let the mind-healer help, but in the end, she had been right.

Just a year ago, after so long hiding his depression and pain behind his bright smile, just as he'd done when he was younger, he'd given in. The mind healer had been a good person to talk to and bound herself to silence, which was very reassuring.

With her help he was starting to accept he was not to blame for… That. That Sasuke would want him to be happy. That he had loved Sasuke like he'd never loved another before, even though he'd not realized it himself.

Really, the past year had done wonders for his mental health.

Squinting against the morning sun spilling in their room from the window, Naruto sighed softly and smiled.

Hinata was really instrumental in helping him through the… thing.

With a harsh chuckle, he turned to the empty pillow next to him.

"I love you, you know."

I love you too, Naruto-kun. Now and always.

He'd heard it enough to imagine her response with perfect clarity.

"You know," he continued as he closed his eyes, "Kakashi-sensei should really consider going to one of those mind-healers himself. Kami knows he needs it more than I do, with the missions he's been dragging himself into since…"

A deep breath. His mind-healer had told him that he should try to verbalize all his thoughts about him, even the unhappy ones. It was so alien to him, to say bad things.

He'd learned to never do that, except maybe in the heat of battle. The nine-tails orphan was hated enough already.

But he had to try. It was healthy to talk about all of his emotions, not just the happy ones. It was okay to be sad sometimes – and he would still be happy after.

Of course, the mind healer also told him that it was okay if he could not, sometimes.

"Since then. Never mind all the shit he went though in his youth. Pity he's not an enemy. Then I might've been able to talk him around, he."

The empty pillow did not reply.

Naruto buried his face fully in his own pillow, inhaling deeply once more. His voice was muffled.

"Although I'm sure we could both look to Sakura-chan for an example. She's been doing fine for years!"

The empty pillow projected an air of scepticism.

"Okay. Fine. I don't actually know how Sakura-chan is doing because I haven't really spoken to her in a long while because I'm a shit friend. I admit it."

He threw his hands over his head to avoid the disappointed gaze of the pillow.

"It's just, I tried, you know. In the beginning. To be a good friend to Sakura-chan. But, it's just…"

He swallowed. "For some reason, with Sakura-chan, it's the worst. Whenever I see her I can only see the fact that Sasuke is not there with her. He should have been." Another breath, slightly ragged. "He should have come back, and fallen in love with her, and marry her, and have babies, and I could baby-sit them, and they'd be awesome, and," his voice broke, "HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!"

The pillow was silent.

"Kakashi-sensei, I c-can deal with, because he's \ more of a loner in any case. B-but Sakura, Sakura-chan is the one tha-that belonged with T-t-teme. His o-other half."

He took a steadying breath. Let it all out, his mind-healer had said, even if there is no one around to hear it.

Especially then, because this means you hear it.

"And every time I see her I think about Sasuke and about Team 7 and about that day and I become so sad and I can only run or punch or cry or, fuck."

Another deep breath. Home. Safe.

"The more I avoid her, the more I feel guilty about being a bad friend, the more I avoid her. I tell myself, always, that I'm becoming stronger. Not just to become Hokage, but to protect her. To protect everyone I love. So that something like, like with him, can never happen again. Never. That's enough, isn't it?"

The pillow was soaked in tears by now.

Hinata had assured him that Sakura was keeping busy. That she'd become co-director of the hospital. That she'd been training with Lee, for some reason. Then again, Hinata had always been a little bit jealous of Sakura because of his childhood crush.

"I still can't look her in the eyes without getting emotional."

But Hinata was still Sakura's friend. Sai barely knew their former teammate, and Kakashi did not do human interaction except when forced on him.

Sakura would be okay. Kakashi would be okay. Sasuke-

Fuck.

Sasuke would never be okay again because he was DEAD. GONE. And it was-

No. Stop.

Slowly pushing himself up on the bed he gazed into the morning sun, eyes watering.

It did not chase away the cold feeling settled in his bones.

A familiar clearing sharpened in his mind's eye, brown and green and redredred, and Naruto was glad he did not have anything scheduled today.

Creeping back under the covers, he threw the blanket over him and whispered to his ghosts.

"He should have been here."

The memorial stone was looking particularly fine today.

Sighing to himself, feeling the stiches in his side complain, Hatake Kakashi turned his gaze towards the sky.

"Another mission done, Obito." His voice was more bitter than he'd intended. ANBU had that effect on him.

Rin would not approve, probably.

"I really hate the hospital, you know," he complained out loud to her. "The food is shit, it smells horrible," a breath, "and shinobi only go there when they die."

The memorial stone did not answer.

That was okay. He'd not needed it to in many, many years.

Rin's smile in his mind's eye. Why didn't you go to that student of yours?

Kakashi shrugged dismissively. "She wasn't in Konoha. Annual leave. Hospital staff get luxuries like that."

Obito rolled his eyes. As if you would do anything with your annual leave except reading more Icha-Icha and feeling sorry for yourself.

Kakashi crossed his arms and looked away. He never liked it when his subconscious used his imaginary teammates to analyse himself.

"I could have sparred with Gai. Or trained with Naruto."

No answer. But in a very sceptical way.

His voice was perfectly blank. "I don't know whose idea it was to give me a team, anyway. I'm not a sensei. I'm an ANBU captain."

Team 7. His biggest failure.

Naruto, a ghost come alive, something in his stomach rebelling whenever he thought to put him in danger. Saved by Jiraya and his teachings before it was too late.

He had been smiling more, lately. Hinata was good for him.

Sakura, an innocent civilian caught in shinobi life, who he had no idea how to handle. Saved by Tsunade, just in time, now safely of the field.

(He wasn't even going to think about Sasuke.)

He only hoped Sakura had come to her senses with this holiday and didn't want to join them on a mission once more. He didn't care for Sai. Yamato could handle himself. Naruto had the Kyuubi.

But Sakura, puppy-love, civilian, medic, optimistic, Sakura – well, she had her healing, sure. But that was no Kyuubi.

In the hospital, she was safe.

Far away from him, which helped as well. He knew like no other that all the people he cared about died.

He traced a finger over the lines of the memorial stone.

(Friend-killer Kakashi.)

He would've stopped Naruto as well, if he could. The boy would probably be much happier as an academy instructor or the like. The copy-nin was insightful enough to notice Naruto was still not himself after Sasuke's death, even three years later.

(He should've seen it coming, really. Sasuke and him had been alike in so many ways. He was the only one able to save him.

But he was no Minato-sensei. Not a saviour to Sasuke, not a father to Naruto, not a teacher to Sakura.)

Kakashi, Rin's voice broke through his dark contemplations. Stop it. Don't think about these things as if they're set in stone. Naruto is on your team. Sakura is in Konoha. You can reach out to them, still.

"Rin," he murmured, visible eye tender.

"You think too highly of me."

The memorial stone stayed silent, this time.

"Thank you for your patronage!"

Sending her last customer for the day a bright smile, Yamanaka Ino waited a few seconds before switching the sign to closed.

Turning around, fake smile dropping away, she surveyed her family's flower shop with a professional eye.

Even after all these years, she still loved tending to it whenever she had the time. It was good practice for blending in.

Plus, it kept her up to date about Konoha's gossip.

Or intel, as Ibiki-sensei would call it.

Ino was happily working full-time at T&I these days. She'd become a true kunoichi, one of the best, and she was proud of it. Her body was a weapon, finely tuned, whether to be used as scout, seductress, civilian – whatever Konoha needed. Her covers slipped on like a second skin.

And if she ever got fed up with whatever shit she went through on these undercover missions, well, she had clearance level 2 now. The lower level was open to her, and Anko-senpai never turned her away.

(The T was just as important as the I.)

The blonde sighs softly as she tidies up the counter. Tonight, she's going out for dinner with Hinata, who'd somehow become one of her closest friends.

Something she would never have expected back in the academy.

How times change.

Luckily, she was still thick as thieves with Shika and Choji, even though they did not understand everything about the career path she had chosen. The occasional Team 10 mission always lightened her spirits, and it was good for Shika to get out of that dusty Hokage tower in any case.

But her friends from her youth, well.

All civilians had disappeared from her life, a lesson Ino had to learn the hard way. Kiba had become outright dismissive of her. TenTen had stuck around, though she did not make a secret what she thought of Ino's chosen profession – especially the X-ranked parts.

And Sakura…

Yesterday, one of her customers let slip that Shizune-senpai was filling in for Sakura for a few weeks while she was on annual leave. Today, Ino had asked around for her pink-haired friend, but she apparently left town all together.

Ino tried not to feel hurt about that.

After all, they had been growing apart ever since the traitor's death. As one of the founding clans of Konoha, any shinobi turned missing-nin was immediately vilified and spat out by her clan. As it should be.

(Their loyalty was the single line between being a shinobi and being a immoral killer. Sane and insane. Human and monster.)

Sasuke was no different.

Ino had never understood Naruto's and Sakura's obsession with bringing him back. As if that would solve anything.

But she tried to support Sakura through her grief, still.

It was just…

Sakura had changed.

Not that Ino was very surprised at that. All of Team 7 was different now.

But Ino is not sure if she likes the person Sakura had become.

Where before, Sakura was easily tempted by the promise of free food, now, she declined more often than not. Before, Sakura pretended to care about her new boy (or girl) toy, now, she didn't even pretend to listen.

Before, Sakura was fun to be with. Now, she was just… sad.

Ino compensated with extra bitchiness, of course. I mean, those first months, sure. But girl, you have to get over it eventually! Surly, Sakura knew she could still come to Ino for whatever. Food, conversation, distraction, Sakura only needs to ask.

(For help.)

Yamanaka Ino knows how to read people. She can break them down – or build them up.

But even she cannot help someone who does not want to be saved.

"The patient in room 203 is feeling better today," Kancho Emi told Shizune-senpai with a smile.

"I'm glad to hear it, Emi. Thank you for checking in on him at the end of your shift."

Emi smiled once more. "No problem, Shizune-senpai."

The dark-haired woman nodded back and kept walking.

Shizune-senpai was always so polite – unlike most of the guests here at the Konoha Central Hospital, KCH for short.

One of the reasons she was a beloved director. Unlike that grump Takeshi. More like Sakura-sensei.

Pursing her lips, Emi made her way back to the staff breakroom, heels clicking on the hospital floor.

Emi, as one of the (civilian) head nurses here at KCH, was pretty well-informed about the comings and goings here at the hospital.

Twiddling her pencil, Emi contemplated what she knew about Sakura-sensei.

A woman, a girl, a year younger than Emi herself. Quick to anger, quick to smile, a no-nonsense attitude which made her not only a respected (and rarely harassed) doctor, but also a successful one.

One of the, if not the, best chakra healers KCH had. Hokage-sama may have a leg up on non-lethal and transformative surgery, Shizune-sensei may be the absolute except on poison-related injuries, but when there was someone bleeding to death on your operation table, Sakura-sensei was the one you wanted to have next to you.

So young. So much potential.

And none of it recognized out of the hospital.

Emi had asked her once, a few months ago. About Team 7. Sakura-sensei had not said much, but what she had said had been plenty revealing.

A few questions littered here and there in the following months made the picture pretty clear for Emi.

Sakura-sensei was a good doctor and had enormous value for KCH.

But she was not happy.

The wistful way she looked at brawling young teams in in the corridors, the complicated looks when another shinobi returned to the hospital after just getting out of it, the way her fingers twitched with restrained violence and the corner of her mouth ticked down whenever a patient did anything really stupid.

(The whispers about Team 7 turning her down.)

Emi was smart. Top of her class, back in nursing school.

(Great potential, they said. For a civilian, they said.)

This was why Emi knew Konoha would not let Sakura back on the field full-time without a good reason. She was far too valuable here, in KCH.

Strong shinobi, Konoha had plenty of. Excellent doctors, only three.

Taking a deep breath, Emi shook herself our of her thoughts. This was not the place, nor the time.

She smiled once more to the empty corridor. Made sure to crinkle her eyes to make it look genuine.

Turning left, entering the break room, Emi waved shortly towards Mai and Aito standing near the coffee machine.

Aito was leaning forward slightly, his face conspiratorial.

Emi straightened slightly.

"I don't know why, either. But Haruno-sensei does not have any shifts for the next three weeks, which is as far as the schedule goes," Aito said softly, not really whispering, but not speaking openly either.

Emi busied herself with making coffee.

"I overheard Shizune-sama say she's taken up all of her annual leave at once," Mai replied with a serious tone. "Almost five weeks. And she's not been seen in Konoha ever since."

The two nurses were quiet for a moment. Emi sipped her coffee.

"Do you think she'll come back?" Mai asked softly, leaning towards her friend. If Emi hadn't been listening for it she would've missed it.

Aito chuckled in a way that was very obviously forced. "Why would you ask that?" he asked, matching her volume.

Mai cocked her head to her friend, giving him a look. "We both know she started out as part of Team 7, one of the most famous teams of Konoha. But she's not part of it anymore. How must that feel, seeing your teammates succeed, while no one ever really looks at the work we do here? And don't give me that," she added sternly, "you know just as well as I do that even with Hokage-sama at the helm, the healing part of the system is not what a shinobi village focuses on."

"Mai!" Aito whispered furiously. "Don't say such things!"

Mai twiddled with her fingers and looked to the floor dejectedly. "She just seems so sad sometimes."

Aito laid a hand on Mai's shoulder, his face breaking out in a soft smile. "Don't worry. She was just stressed these past few weeks, with all these lethal injuries coming in, and all that. She'll be as good as new after her break."

Emi finished her coffee.

Mai smiled at her friend, taking a breath. "You're right. Thanks, Aito."

Emi put her cup on the table with a slight thunk and ignored the way Mai and Aito startled.

Giving both of them a slight wave and a bright smile, Emi walked to the changing room. "See you guys tomorrow!"

A few minutes later, in her civilian clothes, Emi walked out of KCH just as the sun broke out and shone in her face.

She squinted her eyes against the bright light.

She missed the rain, sometimes.

Most times.

(Misses home.)

As she starts walking to her flat, Emi closes her eyes and thinks.

Just, thinks.

A genuine smile appears on her face for the first time in weeks.

She hopes Sakura-sensei will be happy in Ame.

Kami-sama will take care of her.