Anamnesis

(the recollection or remembrance of the past;

reminiscence)

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Author's Note & SPOILER Warning!

For those of you who haven't read the manga at all or in a long, long time (since the end of, say, 2012) there is an unavoidable spoiler contained below. They're almost to it in the anime... It's contained in Naruto manga chapter 614, to be prescise. If you don't know which member of the Konoha 11 bites the dust, then... erm... run away screaming from this chapter, I guess.

More important notes at the bottom of the page!

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Sai's dark hair shifted as he gave a brief, satisfied nod from his bent position over the petite, feminine foot resting on his knee. Capping the fingernail polish, he raised his head.

Careful not to smudge the drying polish, Sakura lifted her leg up to properly view her freshly painted toenails. "Wow," was the only adequate word available in her vocabulary as she examined Sai's impressive handiwork.

After putting on a solid coat of a dark blue, the artist had used white to paint varied forms of daisies on each toenail, complete with orange centers. Consistent with his inked art, the lines were flawless and beautiful.

"Marry me?" Sakura asked enthusiastically and rhetorically, wriggling her toes in the air while being careful not to bump the wet nails. Boy, would Ino be jealous when she saw the kind of mani-pedi Sakura had received from her quirky teammate.

When a heavy silence fell over the room, the pink-haired woman lifted her face to find Sai staring at her with a slightly wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression. It took a moment for the words to catch up with her before Sakura could realize what had put him so off balance.

"I was under the impression that general custom dictates it is the male's perogative to ask for the woman's hand in marriage," Sai spoke slowly before she could intervene.

Laughing softly, Sakura straightened on her couch. "Sorry, sometimes I forget we're still working on expressions with you. When a person is very thankful for someone, they sometimes say 'Marry me' as a way of conveying how much they enjoy them and their contributions to the friendship. It's a way of signalizing and vocalizing how awesome we think a friend is."

Setting the bottle of nail polish on the coffee table, Sai pursed his lips thoughtfully, the slight wrinkle between his brows giving away the fact that he had yet to grasp the concept.

"The use of such a phrase is bound to cause confusion. How is a woman supposed to know if a man is truly asking for her hand in marriage when one uses such a proposal as an allusion to the appreciation of a friendship?"

Laughing, Sakura took a moment to admire her french-manicured fingernails as she formulated a reply. "A proposal is generally done in a way that makes it very unmistakable. And you're right – it is a male's job to propose. Generally, people tend to be in a relationship first."

Although his confusion clearly hadn't completely abated, Sai nodded, at least temporarily satisfied. "That is good," he commented, his dark eyes meeting her green ones, "since I understand that two people are generally supposed to have mutual sexual attraction if they wish to get married. And while I find your figure to be aesthetically pleasing, I don't-"

"Sai?" Sakura cut in, feeling the muscles in her eye twitching mercilessly. "I suggest you end that sentence right there, and stop while you're ahead. Let's leave it at 'aesthetically pleasing'."

A slight, puzzled frown still on his lips, the Anbu member nodded, knowing better than to agitate her.

"I still don't understand how you can paint like that. Whenever I try to paint my toenails, I think I get more polish on my toes than on the nails."

"Clearly, I am the more coordinated out of the two of us. This shouldn't come as too much of a suprise, since your battle tactics revolve around the use of brute force, whereas mine require deft detail and – ouch. Was that necessary?"

As the man rubbed his shoulder where his teammate had gently socked him, Sakura huffed. "Just be glad it was a love-tap and not an actual punch. I could've easily used my brute force," she reiterated, glaring in his direction.

Gradually, a smile grew on his face. It proved to be rather contagious as Sakura felt her own turning upwards at the corners, her lips pulling tight as both of their eyes took on a more playful glint.

"What's the occasion for this anyway?"

"Girls' night out," Sakura replied, scooting back enough so that her feet dangled off the edge of the couch, allowing her to swing them gently back and forth. "All of us girls don't get to spend time together all at once very often, so we like to make a thing out of it."

"I've never known you to be overly feminine," Sai commented offhandedly, head tilted as if observing her."Therefore, the excess effeminacy that you are displaying tonight appears to be rather uncharacteristic. "

"...I'm going to try not to take that as an insult," Sakura replied, playfully tapping his shin with one of her feet. "To be honest, glitter and makeup and dresses aren't really my thing. But it is nice, once in a while, to try to remember that despite our profession, we are women."

Still regarding her thoughtfully, Sai intently examined her features before nodding. "In that case, may I suggest a particular outfit?"

"Gladly. Given the choice between having you help coordinate my outfit, and having Ino dress me, I'm going to be smart and pick the person who is least likely to attempt to reveal more of my skin than the public has ever seen before. Besides, I think you'd be the best qualified for color coordinating – artistic senses and all."

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It was curious, Sakura supposed, that somehow the beginning of their girls' nights took place in a pub that was frequented mostly by jonin.

Such a place wasn't the most feminine of choices, which contrasted the general intention of the excursion, but it was familiar – and if they faced the facts, they were all war veterans. It was only natural that they'd feel comfortable in an atmosphere where they were surrounded by other veterans.

Hoping that it wasn't some preordained destiny that one would take directly after their jonin teachers, Sakura shot a quick wave at Kakashi, giving his dirty book a disdainful glance just for old time's sake. His familiar lazy hand raised up into the air in response, although the one visible eye never left the page.

Then again, she thought, there were worse fates than to end up as a battle-wisened veteran with an undying sense of loyalty and the determination to always save ones comrades.

The porn reading, though, she could really do without.

Pulled out of her reverie by the furiously waving hand that jutted out above a head of dark hair (strangely absent of its twin-buns), Sakura smiled at Tenten.

Unmistakably the last of them to arrive, she slid into the seat across from the weapons user and shared grins with the other two occupants of the booth.

"Tenten, I don't think we tell you enough how amazing you look with your hair down," the medic commented in greeting. She was rewarded when a light blush crosed the girl's face.

"Thanks," she groaned reluctantly. "Unfortunately, you're not the only one who seems to think so, and I'm about to swear off loose hair for life if this is what it gets me."

Directly contrasting her enthusiasm at seeing Sakura a moment ago, Tenten slumped forward with her forehead resting on the table, swirling the straw in her drink.

When Sakura tilted her head in askance, Ino nudged her gently with an elbow and inclined her blond head in the direction of a tall young man standing at the bar.

"Some chunin I haven't seen around before is just hooked on poor Tenten over here. She politely declined his advances, but he insisted on getting her a drink," Ino explained.

"To give him some credit, you do look beautiful, Tenten," Hinata spoke softly from the corner, ever the peacemaker. "You can't fault him for taste, at least."

Sakura hesitated before replying, examining Tenten's features and noticing the slightly haggard appearance they had taken on. If there was anyone who never needed defending, it would be her; the girl had a backbone strong enough to fend for herself and then some.

The day someone took advantage of Tenten would be the day Gai swore off spandex.

But the telltale signs of fatigue were a bit too clear, not able to escape Sakura's trained medical scrutinization. There was a dusting of dark color underneath the weapon user's eyelids, her pallor was a shade too light, and the corners of her eyes were tilted in a way that betrayed her exhaustion.

"Hey," she started softly, waiting until she caught the girl's dark brown eyes. "Are you doing alright?"

Resting her chin on the tabletop, Tenten raised her eyes to meet Sakura's, forming an encouraging smile. "I'm just wiped. Between my genin team, regular missions, and training, I think I might drop dead by the end of the month."

The fact that the blonde at their table had her vision fixated on the aforementioned young man soon became apparent. "You know, he's not bad looking," Ino interjected abruptly. "If nothing else, he might be good for a tumble or two!"

Hinata's facial pigmentation instantly filled up with color at the remark, and Sakura sighed and let her forehead fall into one of her hands. Tenten groaned, letting her forehead thunk to the tabletop again. "Like I'd have time for a romp even if I wanted one," was her unenthusiastic reply.

"Might put some color back in your cheeks," Ino commented offhandedly. "Could be some great stress relief, too." Playfully, Tenten swatted a blind arm in her general direction, eliciting a small round of laughter from their table.

Ino choked off her laughter suddenly, cupping one hand around her mouth and whispering "Tenten, he's coming back!" in a tone that failed to be significantly hushed.

When Tenten positively seemed to slump forward into a puddle of exhausted goo in anticipation of dealing with something that she just couldn't formulate the energy to handle, Sakura felt herself bristle a bit in anger. What was up with someone not being able to take no for an answer, anyway?

The minute she laid eyes on the chunin's smooth, confident grin, Sakura had to wrestle down the impulse to instantly punt him across the establishment.

Forced to raise her head from the table when the young man informed her that he'd ordered her a drink and there were two seats meant for them by the bar, Tenten tried to work up a polite but discouraging smile.

"I appreciate the offer, but like I said before, I'm not here looking for a date. I'm here to spend time with my friends," Tenten replied, diplomatic but firm.

Four intense pairs of eyes swung to the chunin as he replied with a bout of raucous and cocky laughter. "Girls don't get all dressed up and look the way that you do to hang out with their friends. You're obviously trying to attract attention," he argued, extending the drink towards Tenten.

Ino's jaw dropped, slack with shock, and Sakura suddenly sat up a little straighter in her seat, posture rigid. Hinata's pale eyes were wide and intent, and Tenten's smile seemed to crack and freeze on her lips.

Unable to prevent the wave of protective instinct that swept over her, Sakura slid out of her seat and rose to her feet.

Her stature might not measure up to his at her petite height of 5'2", but it was easy to discern the way that her body language suggested preparation for physical engagement of a negative connotation.

The chunin stood a few feet away from her and perhaps over a foot taller than her, an unfamiliar face that she couldn't put a name too.

"So let me get this straight," the medic started, and anyone who knew her would've been warned by the tense undertone to her voice that generally precluded an outburst. "You're convinced that we're here with nothing better to do than doll ourselves up to try to attract attention from men?"

Completely bypassing the body language that hinted at the thinly veiled aggression in Sakura's confrontation, the man turned to her and shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's what girls like you always want," was the reply.

Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, Sakura laughed softly and pulled her lips upward into a vicious and apprehensive smile that warned everyone at the table of what was about to come. To a stranger, the smile looked deceptively sweet.

To anyone familiar with her, it was a warning to duck for cover.

"Is that right?"

Seated behind Tenten, Hinata raised her hands to her face, fingers covering her expression of horrified anticipation at what was to come. Peeking between some of her fingers, she noted the rigidity of Sakura's muscles and waited for what was bound to happen next.

"And her saying she wasn't interested?" Sakura prodded, her sickeningly sweet tone of voice a stark contrast to her thoughts on the matter.

"Typical female playing hard to get. Why can't you all just admit what you want?"

Sakura's smile cracked on her face.

The hand that had been gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear balled into a fist as she thrust it backwards, giving her the necessary range of motion to gain the required momentum to rush forward and plow it into the impudent idiot's face.

It would be perfect, she decided; her fist would land in his face as he was still mid-chuckle, too young and too inexperienced to sense her murderous intention. He never saw it coming, too wrapped up in his own little conceited world.

A familiar presence assaulted Sakura's senses at the same moment she felt a warm, gloved hand wrap around her fist before it could finish its trajectory and fly any further than a foot beyond her own body.

With one smooth motion, Kakashi grasped her significantly smaller, minimally chakra-enhanced hand and pulled it down to her hip, using the leverage to tug her petite frame towards him.

It gave the illusion that the entire motion was meant to be part of his action to tuck her into his side in an affectionate gesture, hand firmly encasing her clenched fist against her waist in a deceptively comfortable appearing fashion.

Grinding her teeth in frustration and belatedly wondering if she should have redirected the punch to a less deserving but adequately frustrating target, Sakura glared up at him from her position tucked warmly under his arm and pressed up against larger frame.

Some of that volatile anger dissipated when she noted that the silver-haired jonin's headband had been pulled up, revealing a pair of mismatched eyes that would make even the most inexperienced genin put a name to his face instantly. And his reputation.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" he drawled, that lazy voice she knew so well projecting a calm demeanor, but the exposed swirling red eye suggesting otherwise. "You wouldn't be bothering my favorite teammates, would you?"

Although the persistent young man had missed all the blatant warning signs of the danger that Sakura presented, he found Kakashi's to be unmistakably clear. All of the color fled from his face, and he backed up slowly, retracting the drink that he had previously offered to Tenten.

"A-actually," he stuttered, "I was just telling them to have a great night." With that, he tucked tail and practically ran back to his friends, whose murmurs revolving around the 'copy nin' weren't hushed enough to escape their hearing.

Still smooshed up against Kakashi's side like a rag doll, Sakura glared daggers at his partially turned face. "What the hell was that about?" she demanded. "Since when am I not capable of handling a situation like that on my own? And since when are you a condescending chauvinistic ass?"

As she wriggled like a fish out of water beneath his hold, Kakashi fixed his gaze on her firmly and held it for a moment before relenting, suddenly releasing his grip. Sakura backed up a step to put some distance between them and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hypocrite much?" were the first words out of his mouth.

Sakura's lips moved soundlessly as she tried to formulate some kind of reply.

"It's acceptable for you to stand up for Tenten because you're a woman, but if I step in, my status as a male makes me a – how did you so delicately phrase it – condescending chauvinistic ass?"

At somewhat of a loss for words, Sakura let out a huff of air that briefly lifted cotton-candy-hued bangs from the forehead they occupied before falling back down in disarray.

"I actually enjoy frequenting this establishment," Kakashi continued dryly, "and somehow, I doubt they'll let me keep coming here if my pupil sends a man flying through their wall… again."

The fight went out of her as Kakashi pulled his forehead protector back down to its normal position, and with a sigh Sakura slumped back into her seat at the booth, the adrenaline finally leaving her system.

As usual, nothing bypassed Kakashi's powers of observation as his eye swept over their attire and the collection of items each of them had brought with them, mostly stowed underneath the table.

"You're going to visit him again," he stated, only partially a question that was never expected to receive an answer because he already knew. Their regular routine had become common knowledge to a close few.

Some heavy emotion weighted his features as he lifted one arm and gently laid his palm on Sakura's head, a ghost of the gesture he used to make when he would ruffle her hair in her younger years.

As Sakura met his gaze, something undefinable passed through his eyes, and she could almost read the statement the unspoken emotion wrote in his face; I never wanted this for you.

The pink-haired jonin felt her throat constrict without warning, chest heavy with a burden tangible to them all. The edges of her eyes felt hot and suspiciously watery, and she swallowed in an attempt to bury some of the emotion that swam up relentlessly.

Without another word, Kakashi abruptly pivoted and strode back to his table, tucking his hands into his pockets as he went.

"Well," Ino started, dispelling the wave of tension, "as exciting as that all was… should we call it good and head out?" Reaching for the flower bouquet she had brought, the blond shifted in her seat.

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The late afternoon sun was pleasantly warm as they walked through the cemetery, their destination familiar in their minds.

"I think he'd really like the arrangement you made," Hinata spoke softly, pale eyes roaming over the vibrant array of blooms Ino carried in her hands.

Uncharacteristically subdued, the blond smiled gently in return, her blue eyes heavy with an unabated sorrow.

"I brought sake," Sakura chimed in as an attempt to lighten the mood, the bag in her hands clanking as it was raised closer to eye level. "I actually remembered the cups this time, although I have to say, passing the bottle around was kind of fun."

All four of them found their lips turning up at the corners as they reminisced upon the experience of tossing bottles of sake around and drinking straight out of them in a rather undignified manner.

Their feet led them to the particular grave, and each of them began to arrange what they had brought in a well rehearsed pattern.

Hinata spread out the enormous thin cotton blanket that was beginning to be a bit worn from its use. Each girl took their unspoken designated spot; the two brunettes settled side-by-side against the back of the tombstone, while Sakura and Ino took up positions leaning against opposite sides.

Tenten popped open the basket she'd brought, revealing neatly arranged rice balls.

As they passed out cups and rice balls, Ino voiced, "So, whose turn is it anyway? All I remember is that it was mine last time."

Silence prevailed for a moment as each woman settled in with a cup of sake and a rice ball in their hands, until after a thoughtful silence Sakura chimed "Mine, I think."

If asked, not one of them could pinpoint how or when it became tradition to swap stories when they visited his grave, but they always took turns.

Every occasion that they had a night to come to visit the grave together, one of them would put a voice to a fond memory they had with the deceased.

Ino delicately reached over to settle the flowers she had brought on the grave, patting it fondly once her hands were empty. "That's better."

They gave Sakura a moment to collect her thoughts as she sipped on the lukewarm sake, feeling the cool gravestone against her back and staring up at the gradually darkening evening sky.

"We had a mission to rescue a feudal lord's daughter that had been kidnapped. She was four years old, and by the time we got her back, absolutely terrified; for the longest time we couldn't even get her to talk. After we settled down for camp that night, I was on perimeter guard duty, and Neji was staying with her."

A fond expression crossed over Sakura's features, and she closed her eyes as the memory came back to life, digging a small hole into her chest. The warmth of the sake spreading through her system warmed that burrow to a small extent, but didn't abate the hollow ache.

"The little girl took a long, good look at him, plopped down on the ground and demanded that he braid her hair for her. It was the first words we'd heard her speak all day."

A chorus of laughter swept over them, and once it had passed, there was a pause to refill each of their cups.

"Poor Neji," Ino chuckled, a hand to her face in exasperation. "It could've been worse. She could have demanded to braid his hair."

At the offhanded comment, Sakura's failed attempt to mask her responding expression made Ino's jaw drop as she peered at her around the gravestone. "She didn't!" Ino exclaimed, her voice the epitome of astonishment and disbelief. "He didn't!"

"The poor girl was traumatized," Sakura admonished. "Honestly, how could anyone say no to that? He managed to produce a hairbrush, and did her hair in a meticulous braid. It just figures that Hyuuga Neji would use the same technical precision to braid a girl's hair as he would executing jutsu."

"I bet it was the neatest, tidiest braid the world's ever seen," Tenten remarked dryly but fondly, eliciting another subdued round of laughter.

"He was a good man." Sakura's voice was wistful, nostalgic, and four pairs of eyes began to feel suspiciously moist as they all turned their thoughts to reflect how true her statement was. "A great man. That little girl went to sleep with a smile on her face, with him sitting right by her side. I'd bet she'd never felt safer in her life."

Silent tears slid down a few sake-warmed cheeks. Sakura raised her cup, speaking softly, "He would've made a wonderful father one day. To Neji."

"To Neji," they replied in a chorus of feminine voices, downing the rest of their cups and remembering a warm smile below pale eyes framed by long, chocolate-brown hair.

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"Kakashi-sensei was right – they're at it again."

Despite her level of barely-retained consciousness, Sakura recognized Naruto's bright, warm voice. Even if it held a tone of censure, that could never disguise the blatant, unadulterated affection.

"Honestly, what are they thinking?" Kiba's voice was a bit piercing in contrast to Naruto's, more tinged with rebuke and exasperation. "If they're going to drink themselves into unconsciousness, the least they could do is wear some warmer clothes."

Choji let out a cry of pain as he stubbed his toe against the gravestone, trying to distinguish where Ino was sprawled out by the vibrant contrast of her hair against the fully darkened night sky. "Sorry, Neji," he mumbled.

Naruto tugged off his orange and black jacket, draping it around Hinata's sleeping form as Kiba drew near, arms crossed over his chest and Akamaru at his heels. Lee followed close behind, a faint smile twisted with amusement and warmth.

"You can't carry them both," Kiba commented dryly, solving the dilemma that Naruto was internally and silently struggling with. "I'll get Hinata home."

For a moment the blonde hesitated, reluctant to leave the dark-haired woman whose pale eyes were closed in an alcohol-induced slumber. But with a resigned sigh he shuffled to Sakura's side, unable to leave the graveyard without her.

"Up we go, Sakura-chan." His deep voice reverberated in Sakura's ears as Naruto gathered her into firm, warm arms and settled her head against his shoulder.

Mumbling something unintelligible against his broad chest and soaking up the inferno of heat projecting from it, Sakura continued to drift only partially in consciousness. If it hadn't been for the strong arms around her, she would've sworn it felt like her body was floating.

Sleepily, Sakura unintentionally maintained a tiny sliver of inebriated consciousness. She knew that Lee would carry Tenten home, Choji would likely take Ino, and Kiba probably already had Hinata in his arms.

The whoosh of air let her know that Naruto was rapidly moving, presumably flying across the rooftops of Konoha at a blurring speed.

Perfectly content to burrow against the intoxicating blend of muscle and softness, Sakura grumbled when suddenly the warmth was withdrawn and she was set down on a soft surface that felt suspiciously like her bed.

Despite her liquor-induced stupor, Naruto's dumbfounded grumbles and mutters as he tried to figure out how to unlatch the strappy sandals on her feet brought a lopsided smile to Sakura's face.

Eventually he managed to tug them off, tossing them over his shoulder in the general direction of her closet by the thumps they made. "Where the heck are your pajamas?" the perplexed blonde questioned rhetorically, scratching the back of his head.

The raucous chorus of noises that followed brought a sloppy grin to Sakura's face as she tried her best to maintain a sitting position on the bed.

It wasn't long before warm hands were tugging her much lighter body back onto its feet; the kunoichi, devoid of her characteristic coordination, stumbled but was kept in balance by settling against Naruto's warm chest.

With surprisingly deft hands, Naruto located the zipper on the back of her dress and pulled it down, gently tugging the garment off over Sakura's head. It was likely chucked somewhere on the floor as it was rapidly replaced by the soft, cotton jonin shirt that had been laying neatly folded on top of the dresser.

"This isn't mine," was the perplexed murmur as he helped work her slender arms through the generously sized sleeves, "it's too big to be mine or Sasuke's."

Letting out a gentle puff of air in a content sigh at the feel of the comfortable fabric against her skin, Sakura let the comment slide in one ear and out the other, hardly even registering it within her mind.

Chuckling, Naruto swooped her up into his arms again, moving the sparse few feet to the bed and tucking her into it with a degree of delicateness that few would have thought the exuberant young man to be capable of.

The alluring comfort of the freshly-washed sheets and soft down comforter allowed the pink-haired jonin to be perfectly at ease, capable of relinquishing the tiny sliver of consciousness that had been retained elsewhere.

"He wouldn't have wanted you guys crying in front of his grave, you know. If it was me buried under that stone, I'd want you to smile and laugh for me. I'm sure that Neji would feel the same."

His soft tone close to one ear was the last thing Sakura heard; an affectionate peck to her temple was the last thing she felt before finally drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

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Mission report firm in one fingerless-gloved hand, Yamato rapped his knuckles against the door to the Hokage's office as a polite precedence to his entrance.

An exhausted groan of presumed acquiesence muffled by the barrier between them met his ears, causing a furrow in his brow as the voice didn't sound like it belonged to the woman he had expected to be inside.

A dull thumping noise from within made him raise one brown eyebrow in curiosity.

Surely enough, when his sun-tanned hand pushed the door open, the Hokage's desk was strikingly vacant.

In contrast, another smaller desk pulled up beside it was strewn with a seemingly endless array of official documents. A bright splash of color stuck out amidst the mess, pink hair framing the forehead that was currently plunked against the desktop.

That would explain the thump he had heard; one exhausted albeit familiar teammate had slumped forward, causing a resounding noise when her head smacked the surface.

Approaching the far side of the room, Yamato waited for Sakura to raise her head and acknowledge him. When she didn't, he cleared his throat gently; recognition must have propelled her reaction.

Disheveled hair tumbled about her face as she raised it with a slowness that suggested an acute level of exhaustion, jade eyes gradually fixing themselves on his figure.

There were slight dustings of dark color beneath her eyelids, and the excessive sluggishness that accompanied every movement belayed her fatigue.

Those tired but perceptive green eyes passed quickly over the mission folder in one hand, but locked onto the contents of the other with an intensity so acute it almost erased the sleepy slant to her features.

Yamato felt a grin tugging at his mouth as Sakura's eyes widened in fixation at the paper cup with such unveiled interest and desire that it could probably make a man jealous of the caffeinated beverage.

Chuckling, his responding dimpled cheeks rubbing softly against the forehead protector that framed his face, the brown-haired man strode forward and set the cup down directly in front of her.

For a moment, all the petite and exhausted woman did was compete in a stare-down with the cup, nose twitching as the smell of its contents wafted towards her.

Then, slowly, Sakura raised her gaze to meet his, the hopeful and quizzical expression crossing her face more than enough to convey her question.

"I was trying it out on the recommendation of a friend. You look like you could use it more than me." Taking a few steps backward, Yamato signaled his relinquishment of the drink, suddenly wondering if she would have any reservations about its partially consumed status.

The responding warm and grateful smile quickly disappeared behind the beverage as it was lifted to her mouth, its contents experimentally tipped forward without any qualms. Yamato could only conclude that her taste-buds must have instantaneously rejoiced, because the tentative sip soon became consecutive gulps.

With a renewed vigor, Sakura plunked the beverage onto the desk. Perky aquamarine eyes rose to throw gratitude in his direction, but the moment was abruptly interrupted as a blur of yellow, orange and black flew into the room, stirring a breeze in its wake.

"Sakura-chaaaan," Naruto drew out in a sing-song voice, mischievous features searching her face for the after-effects of the sake.

Seemingly ignoring Yamato's presence – or, knowing him, oblivious for the moment as to the fact that they weren't alone – Naruto bounced around the desk on light feet, a ball of relentless energy.

"You gonna tell me whose shirt that was? Nice new panties, by the way," he added, narrowly avoiding the fist that rapidly came flying in his generally direction, swatting at him.

"Naruto!" Sakura chided dangerously as Yamato felt his dark, almond-shaped eyes widening at the implications of the statement. "Shut your mouth! Can you imagine what Hinata would think if she heard that? You can't say things like that without realizing what people will assume!"

A half hearted remorseful pout formed on his lips. "Awh, come on, nobody's gonna assume it's like that!"

Placed outside of the conversation as an abject observer, Yamato felt the temporary shock abate with the realization that the conclusion he had drawn had been too abrupt, devoid of the necessary regard for the innocent frame of mind that Naruto generally took on.

"Besides, I am a guy. I have eyes."

Well, not entirely innocent.

Sakura's second attempt to swat him was even less enthusiastic than her first, clearly lacking true intent to collide with him.

"So. You gonna tell me whose jonin shirt that was? It was a size too big to be mine. Or Sasuke's. Or Sai's."

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble," came the monotone reply, "but having a man's standard-issue shirt on my dresser doesn't mean I'm having a scandalous affair, Naruto."

"That's a shame, you could use - ow!" Not looking one bit remorseful, Naruto danced backward, catching the projectile pen that had smacked him square between the eyes.

Unable to contain his amusement at the display before him, Yamato laughed quietly as fondness passed over his face.

"Seriously, Naruto! Is that all you ever think about?" Sakura's disgruntled tone accompanied the ferocious blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Well, someone has to!"

Returning attention to the caffeinated drink on the desk, Sakura clenched it in a tight fist and downed a few more gulps of it.

As if only just noticing the other presence in the room, Naruto straightened with the pen tucked into one hand and blinked owlishly at the figure across from them. "Yo, Taichou!" The greeting was reminiscent of Kakashi, the accompanying mock-salute a mixture of their two personalities. "What brings you here?"

Approaching Sakura once again, Yamato laid the folder down on a relatively clean section of the desk. "Just turning in my mission report for Tsunade-sama," was his easy reply.

When he raised his gaze to meet the curious bright blue eyes peering at his figure, the elite jonin found himself wondering if Naruto was suddenly scrutinizing him and the width of his shoulders, mentally trying to discern if it was a size that would match the long-sleeved shirt in Sakura's room.

It didn't escape Yamato's memory that the night he had eaten dinner with Sakura, she had thrown his vest and shirt into the washer and it had been left there, forgotten.

But surely it would be far beyond anyone's imagination to assume the existence of a clandestine affair between the two of them?

Formulating an explanation became unnecessary as Naruto shrugged the matter off, clearly deciding that there was no plausible way that the garment could belong to the ANBU member standing in the room.

"Say, Sakura-chan, you're gonna help me with all of my paperwork when I take over as Hokage, right?"

The one-eighty shift in subject matter shouldn't have come as a shock to either of them, but as Yamato and Sakura's gazes met and a pair of feminine eyes rolled in mock exasperation, they exchanged their mutual amusement in silence.

As the optimistic question fueled a bout of one-sided bickering that failed to wipe the humor off of Naruto's expression, Yamato silently took his leave, an unbidden grin still capturing his lips and wondering when such a racket had become a familiar aspect of his life.

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Okay, seriously, Kishi? You are screwin' up my entire story! I suppose now that this fanfiction is slightly AU. Details below.

First, thanks sooo much to everyone who reviewed. I realize it's been horrendously long since I've updated, and I will never quit this fic! I know exactly where it's going and I've been embellishing a detailed outline. All of the reviews I've gotten in the meantime have been so encouraging.

I decided it would be a great idea to go to college full-time (writing intensive courses) and then volunteer to nanny my 7-month-old nephew forty hours a week starting at the end of January (suspiciously...coinciding with my last update ;) )

It was a great idea. I love that baby to death, and I can't think of a better way to spend my time. I just have no life to speak of now – and therefore have been struggling to find time to work on this.

Now... back to "plot".

CURRENT MANGA SPOILERS – you've been warned!

I seriously didn't read the manga at all until I heard that Neji died. He is one of my favorite characters, and I was so torn up about it that I suddenly started reading the manga because I had to see how it happened.

Sad is me.

SO. Who saw the final page of chapter 677 that was released yesterday? I pretty much shit a brick.

I say that this story is now a bit AU because the prologue will probably now be impossible, since the last page of chapter 677 shows Yamato free from his confinement and under Madara's control.

Should I go back and re-write the prologue once we figure out how his role in the war ends? Have Sakura save his life in some other method, if plausible? (Since that was an integral theme in my story...)

Talk about throwing a wrench into my plans, Kishi! Sure, sure, ignore Yamato for freakin' ages then all of the suddenly randomly pop him back in with no explanation.

Kill him and I go on strike!

Now, another incongruency – one that occurred in this chapter.

Kakashi.

SPOILER.

So, his sharingan eye has been ripped out and Naruto magically re-grew him a replacement for his "original" eye. Magical love-tap from Naruto ftw.

Therefore, Kakashi could not have used his mismatched eyes to intimidate the ass-hat chunin in this chapter.

I almost went back to change it, but since it happened in a fairly recent manga chapter, I decided to keep the spoilers at a minimum – in case anyone's already plotting to kill me for the Neji-bomb.

END OF SPOILERS

While there's less Yamato/Sakura time in this chapter, I felt that other characters needed some development in this story, otherwise it just wouldn't have the same Naruto feel to it.

Enter Sai, the girls, Kakashi, and Naruto.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Reviews are always thoroughly appreciated.

I'm on vacation, so more to come soon!