Warnings? Well, this is the last chapter, but fear not, for I am doing a sequel. I'll post it up soon and leave another chapter on this story (yes, I know, it's not allowed, but I will delete it) saying that it is available.

Uh, enjoy? Oh, and thank you so much for supporting me for so long. :) Amazing, guys.

—CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN—
With Thanks

Sakura shoved him hard, screaming, "no!" at the top of her lungs. With tears in her eyes she pushed Shikamaru again and again and again, shouting incoherently until he captured both her wrists and held her still, and even then she put up a fight. Everyone looked their way, everyone bowed their heads and muttered words, everyone but her dad who grabbed the nearest person to him and hugged them tightly, weeping into their shoulder.

She sucked in a breath through the thick tire clinging in her oesophagus and looked away from her dad, from the destruction. She met with a moment of clarity. God, she was gutted, but she was more angry.

Assassinated suggested that someone had been out to get her, or to get at Konoha or someone closer to her, but this was her mother. She was a civilian, a pottery worker, not a lady in the house of a feudal lord or a kunoichi who may have held some sort of influence within the village. She—she was a nobody. And for years Sakura had seen her parents as safe because of that; because they were normal; because Sakura had been normal. But assassination... maybe she wasn't so normal anymore.

She choked and tore her wrists from Shikamaru, covering her face as those tears threatened to fall. It couldn't have been an assassination. She couldn't be this paranoid. It was an accident.

She shook her head, sniffling back everything wanting to make itself known, and then she was in a warm embrace and she recognised the strong scent of clay and paint. "Daddy," she murmured, turning and clinging to him tight; clinging to whatever else about him may have reminded her of her mum, such as memories of them bantering, kissing, laughing together. "Daddy."

"I'm here, honey." But his voice was so broken. His body may have held her strong and still, but inside she could feel him quickly falling apart.

"Maybe they're wrong," she said. "Maybe she's there, still, but trapped. Maybe she was already on her way here. Maybe – maybe—" She choked.

"Maybe she is," her dad answered.

Sakura pulled away, holding to this hope, and stalked by her father and Shikamaru, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks. "I'm going to find her."

Shikamaru grabbed her wrist. "Sakura—"

"I'm going to find her!" she screamed at him. "Even if it's just her body, I am going to find her!" She didn't wait for anyone else to say something or stop her; she just ran. She drew eyes and curses and shouts from those she moved by harshly, from those who didn't know what she'd just been told, but she didn't care, and she didn't stop until she stood before the shop – or at least where it used to be.

Reduced now to nothing but rubble, shattered pottery and charred stone, Sakura found it hard to leap forward to even begin looking for her mother. She ignored the rescue teams in the area, assisting with those injured in the explosion or the others raking their way already through the debris, and she pushed on, skipping over hot stone and loose rocks.

"Sakura Haruno, this area has not been properly cleared," an ANBU informed her, hand out to stop her, but she slapped him away.

"Then why I have I just been told my mother is dead!"

"Because she is."

Sakura stopped stone cold, a flurry of hot emotions rising within her.

The ANBU bowed his head and put a gloved hand on her shoulder. "We're working to preserve her."

Her voice shook as she repeated, "Preserve?"

"Her body is brittle, but still in one piece. We wish to remove it whole."

"Because you were such close friends with her!" she snapped. "Why should you care!"

The shinobi stood straight. "As ordered by the Hokage we do this task. And by his order, you are not allowed in the vicinity."

Sakura resisted the weighty urge to hit him, to do something. "Why?"

"That is not for you to question, genin."

She flinched. Genin. A reminder that she was not in her twenties, that she was not quite welcomed as she was by the public because of her earned effort, that she was still just a little girl.

His grip on her shoulder tightened and he leaned in. She could see his brown eyes through the holes of his mouse mask. "We will do our best, Sakura. Please, let us work."

Sakura released a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding, but now that she had, her chest felt tight. And the same breath after that was the same, and so was the one after until she had some control, even if it was to just nod.

He patted her cheek. "Good girl. Ahh, Kakashi. Would you please...?"

"Of course."

She was faintly aware of Kakashi leading her down the rubble and then onto the lightly blackened street where others were crowding. It was just a blur until she'd had several gulps of water that helped in restarting her brain. Then after that she remained curled up in the corner of the hospital room, looking at Kakashi sitting opposite her playing solitaire. She could smell the seared ends of her clothes, the ash and smoke that clung to her. It made her stomach churn, made her remember the fire, and then the burned remains of the pottery store, and then the image of a house without her mother.

First Ino. And now her mother.

What—how? Why?

"Bollocks," Kakashi muttered. She focused on him looking glumly at his card game, stumped. He sighed and looked to her. "Fancy a game of checkers? I don't like losing to cards."

She stared at him for a long time – long enough that she swore he shuffled uncomfortably – and then quietly she said, "Alright."

It was perhaps the best thing for her right then. She could focus on her movements and on Kakashi's, and that removed the temptation to think about what she'd lost since she'd come to the past – and unfortunately, also what she'd gained. She was content to just lose or win a match, and then eventually talk lightly with her teacher about random things, small things she hadn't realised she'd thought of or liked.

Though no matter how much they tried to take her mind off of it, it would come back eventually. One small comment and she remembered when her mother used to hang the same combination of herbs in her room to diffuse a blocked nose that Kakashi did when he was sick. Her stomach was so tight mentioning her mother, but then he'd talk about his own and how good her soup tasted, and that no matter how many times his father tried to replicate the recipe it always – always – tasted completely different.

Somehow relaying past memories of their parents soothed the pain she felt within her, and at least it was like she could breathe normally. But like most things it was short-lived.

The door opened, letting in the noise of the busy corridors outside. Her dad walked in and Sakura nearly burst into tears the moment she saw his expression; gaunt, grief-stricken, lost. It was alleviated a little when he saw her and came forward with his arms open. She didn't hesitate to run into his embrace.

"Darling girl," he whispered, stroking her head. "You're so brave; so strong. So beautiful." He pulled back and cupped her head, wiping away the tears. With effort she could see he smiled. "We'll get through this."

Sakura shakily sighed. "We have to."

The quickest way to work through grief was to keep going through her everyday life. It was hard in the morning to get up and see no one downstairs, that after a while she decided she didn't want her dad to come down with no greeting and so got up earlier to surprise him when she could. To her surprise, he had thought of it first.

Every morning downstairs was filled with the smell of food cooking or burning, and then they'd sit down at the square table and ate together, talking about what their plans were for that day, or anything new that had happened that they hadn't spoken about – or already had but just needed to say something to fill the silence. Kousuke spent a lot of time cleaning the house or other menial chores now that the pottery store was gone, but after a couple of days his mates started to drag him out to simply hang out or work at temporary jobs in and around the village. For Sakura it was training, the hospital, and school excursions to herbal farms around Konoha. No missions, as of yet.

Like her father's friends, her own tried to bring her back into a normal life, which she truly appreciated. Though missing Naruto and his natural way of cheering her up, the others did just as well by barely giving her a chance to remember too much of what was not at home. Work at the Uchiha Compound was stunted for now.

Sasuke told her that he was recommended to cease reconstruction until a little while afterwards, when everything had blown over. The Uchiha fire and Haruno explosion had created such a tension within Konoha that many civilians were too worried to talk freely about anything, just in case, and Sakura didn't blame them. To begin with Sakura couldn't walk down the street without eyeing someone closely, or pausing slightly whenever she heard a keyword in a conversation that just made her uncomfortable. Even after she'd begun to settle it seemed Konoha hadn't. Everyone was monitoring what they were saying, too scared to be seen associated with the Uchiha mob days back, who had since insisted they hadn't been involved with the Haruno explosion and that the fire upon the Uchiha compound was a vindictive act of a select few, and was not the expression of the entirety.

Sakura had an inkling as to how both Sasuke and Naruto felt now. Because the events happened within minutes of each other, she was now somewhat ousted. Sitting at a bench, enjoying the warm breeze and soft sounds of the morning was often always interrupted when she'd spy some people watching her carefully. The moment she looked at them they'd hurry away.

She'd never heard the words uttered, but Team 7 seemed to be becoming more and more known as the 'Outcast' group. And around this time, Kakashi's past was being dredged up as well.

Sakura was glad Naruto was not in Konoha to experience this.

Week passed by. Though gossiping and talk was quiet it became abundant behind closed doors. Investigations into the Haruno explosion after the mobs confession turned up nothing. It was quickly declared that somehow the radiator in the office, even when it hadn't been on since winter, had exploded. As to how it only managed to destroy the store and did little damage to the surrounding area, the officials didn't elaborate and no one really asked. But it was covered swiftly. And so was the funeral.

It was all so hurriedly done, Sakura felt suspicious. She'd told the Hokage she hadn't wanted to expose too much of her past because she had wanted to believe she was living a normal – second – life, but by insisting this she wasn't privy to everything the Hokage and the two Sannin, and whoever else he had told, were talking about. And she had no right to demand answers.

And for a while now she'd been avoiding hunting down Shikamaru to ask why he thought she'd been assassinated. Maybe Sakura was hoping that it was just a mistake, or that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't been killed because of who and what she supported.

She didn't want to know if she was to blame for her mother's death, and so hid.

The unknown gnawed at her more and more, however, and she'd sit down in her room and run over the events of the day and everything leading up to it. Very little was amiss. There were a few customers she'd never seen before but plenty of traders came through to spread awareness of other wares that looking into all those people felt like a declaration of war.

And then there was how scared Shikamaru was. He hadn't looked her in the eyes since, appeared on guard whenever she spied him walking the streets, and he was always a little more quiet whenever their group of friends came together. She'd seen enough. Eventually Sakura got over her extreme paranoia and dedication to avoid confronting the loss of her mother that before long she felt her old self returning, though with it a desperation for answers; answers she wouldn't get easily.

A date had been set that the new Hokage would be stationed officially. It changed the attitude of Konoha little bit, but there was still that air of apprehension as to who it was. The mob came closer with their chants for Danzo, and each time fell on deaf ears; it didn't seem to stop them.

With the date apparently the Third Hokage deemed a festival was necessary. Everyone knew it was to stem the tide of shifty eyes and pointed fingers but everyone took it hungrily. They needed something to focus on, to pretend that there was nothing wrong with the core of the village. Sakura agreed.

She had to go to that festival, looking as though she was still in mourning but had come through with ease; and she had. There was no lie there. They would think she was fine, back to normal.

The night of the festival Sakura was glad to rid of the ninja uniform and don civilian clothes. Her hair had grown longer, reaching passed her shoulders. She didn't know how long she stood in front of the mirror and tried to figure out how to style it, whether her clothes were alright and and matched, and with a start she remembered Ino wasn't there to suggest alternatives.

God, it had felt like ages ago she was killed.

Sakura inhaled sharply and twisted her hair into a low bun. She couldn't look at herself in the mirror any longer. After grabbing her purse she made for the front door.

There was no real meaning to the festival yet no one minded, except it was somewhat clear through the decorations and cacophony. Bulbous lanterns glowed a beautiful golden orange, illuminating the Konoha symbol in a healthy red all along the pathways leading towards the festival grounds. Talk and laughter was loud, the smell of sweets and savouries strong and mouth-watering. Children in fake masks - animal ones, ANBU-inspired ones, hand-painted ones - ran in and out of the crowd, playing a game. So many people wore the traditional kimono and styled their hair almost too extravagantly, too obvious that they were pretending; but it was beautiful.

The night wore on. The festival was very loud, filled with chatter, music and the noises of clanking kitchenware or sizzling meats and vegetables. Naruto would have loved this. Sakura kept thinking that as she met with each of her friends and spoke with other comrades, further involving herself with almost all the cheap stall games that amused her to no end.

When the song changed Kiba pulled her into the dancing area, amidst the twirling bodies of other couples or single dancers. She stumbled at first, surprised, but he was very good at dancing, and guided her well with each of the steps he made up as he went along - even though she often tripped regardless. It was all so fun. They talked – shouted, more like, over the music – and laughed, and by the end of the song her stomach was hurting.

He gave her a half-hug and then disappeared quickly, chasing and screaming after Akamaru running away with something in his mouth. Sakura didn't have a moment to breathe before someone else swept her into a dance, and again she stumbled in surprise and smacked her head against their chest.

"Well, ouch," he said. Sakura looked up to see Kakashi. He smiled at her.

For a second she remembered everything that had happened to him recently, how Konoha had pulled up his past and his father because of his association with Team 7. For a second she remembered she wanted to learn about Obito, tell him, and reopen all his old wounds, but then he pushed her into a twirl and those dark wantings were forgotten as she let herself get wrapped in those movements.

He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help stepping on his feet all the time, and after a while it turned into a game more than a dance. He'd try to get out of the way without bumping into anybody else and if he managed he spun her viciously that she felt sick the second she was pulled out of it. Then she'd step on his toes in revenge.

"I'm going to throw up!" she yelled at him.

"I won't be able to walk in the morning!" he shot back.

"I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

Yet he spun her out of the dancing, and the moment she stabilised herself on the outskirts she threw up behind a bush. Kakashi patted her back as she coughed it all up, and offered a water that came out of nowhere. She thought, at least. Sasuke was suddenly there, hands in his pockets and an amused expression on his face.

"You're a horrible dancer, Sakura," he said.

"I can't be good at everything, Sasuke," she retorted.

He chuckled.

Kakashi smiled. "Why don't you try it?"

"I have two left feet," the Uchiha said unabashedly.

"At least he's honest."

"How have you been?"

"Oh, just fine, thank you."

"Not you. Sakura."

"I see how it is."

Sakura sighed, spitting out the water and drinking again. "I'm alright. I'm here, aren't I?"

"I bought a new book recently."

"True. It's been a while. Figured I should ask now, instead of skirting the whole thing."

"It was fantastic!"

"Thanks, Sasuke. I feel my old self coming back."

"Although the main male character was a bit odd. I had a few doubts when I started, but he certainly knew how to please—"

"Good." Sasuke shrugged awkwardly. "Kind of missed the nagging."

"Oh, they were steamy!"

"Kakashi-sensei," Sakura said. He looked to her, raising an eyebrow. "Please don't ever change."

He laughed, patting her on the head. "There was no plan for it!"

Sasuke groaned softly. "He's going to be worse now, Sakura."

"You've handled kissing Naruto. I thought you'd be prepared for anything now," she said innocently.

"You just had to—"

"Yes, yes I did."

"I bet Kakashi didn't have to put up with this when he was a genin," Sasuke said, holding back a smile.

Sakura giggled, hiding a grimace and trying not to look at her teacher. Obito. "There's one on every team, Sasuke."

"Hey, Sasuke!" someone called. The three turned to see Neji with Shino at his side. He swayed his head to the side in gesture to behind him and said, "they're letting juniors gamble for two hours. I want to face you in poker."

"No kekkei genkai," Shino added.

Sasuke turned back to Sakura and Kakashi and shrugged. "The Losers call."

"Watch it, Uchiha," Neji said.

Sasuke chuckled. "Want to come, Sakura?"

She smiled. "I'll be there in a bit. Want to wander around, first."

He nodded, bowed his head in farewell, and followed after Neji and Shino, their words lost in the din. Sakura sighed and hugged herself. "

"Kakasehi-sensei..." she said. "Obito... was he..." She didn't know what to say. Truth be told, she didn't exactly know everything of Obito's motives in the future, only that it was some sort of revenge that involved wiping the world clean to start again – a pretty bold desire that should have something just as drastic to ignite it. But what?

How should she ask? What changed in him along those years? What was he like before it all happened – whatever 'it' was?

"Obito was like Naruto," Kakashi said instead. "Knew what he wanted from the start, had difficulty getting it, and always wanted to best me – not necessarily in combat, but to make a point."

"And he made it."

"...yeah. Yeah, he did."

This was it. The only time she could say it.

"Kakashi... walk me to the cemetery?"

He shuffled and looked down at her enquiringly. "Tonight is meant to be of celebration, Sakura. To forget."

"I need to talk to you." And only you.

He watched her for a good moment longer before nodding in acquiesce, holding out a hand for her to begin walking first. When Sakura turned in the direction of the cemetery she felt her stomach flop over and she took in a deep breath to calm herself for what she was about to do.

They didn't talk as they walked there, away from the cheery glow of the festival to the coldness of the graves, and it seemed to take hours until they stood before Obito's headstone. She could tell Kakashi was waiting for her. His body was tense in preparation for whatever she was going to say, because he knew it had to be something big.

"You're the only one I trust, Kakashi," Sakura said. "You're the only person I can trust to distribute whatever I tell you to help Konoha to the best of your abilities."

"The Third Hokage was also meant to be for this reason," he reminded.

"He's alive now. When dealing with my secret, you are my only rock. If you want to bring this matter to him, you can, but I—I can't. I want no part of it."

He nodded. "Alright." And in the silence afterwards began to brush off the errant leaves of grime already building up on Obito's grave.

Sakura sighed. "He's alive." Her skin prickled in anticipation, but he said nothing. He paused instead.

"I assume... you are not talking about the Hokage again," he said slowly.

"No, I'm not. Obito is still alive. And he's the one responsible for everything since the Uchiha massacre. He's the leader of Akatsuki."

Sakura didn't know what to expect of Kakashi now. He could blow up, angry and screaming. He could break down crying, refuting everything she said. Or he could stand there, cold and unmoving. Perhaps she should have thought more about how this would impact him, until she realised that was part of the reason she'd put it off for so long. She hoped to god this wouldn't suddenly break him, make him lose his fighting strength and spirit, because if it did...

He exhaled loudly and looked to the sky. "How?" His voice was strong, but there was a brittle edge to it.

"I don't know," she answered. "All I know is that it had something to do with Madara Uchiha."

He spun. "Mad—!" And turned away, walking down the line of graves with a hand over his eyes.

Sakura watched and waited with bated breath. Would he believe her? But then she couldn't stand the silence any longer and desperately wanted to fill it. "I know you may not believe me. By all respects, I'll trust in your decision to bring this to the Hokage if you think so..." Even if he was passing on his mantel.

He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled without humour. He walked back to Obito's grave and stopped at the one beside it. The name 'Rin' was carved finely into the stone. He bent down and started cleaning this grave too, removing the dying flowers and placing them neatly to the side, framing the tombstone.

"If he truly is alive, then I know what happened to change his mind," Kakashi spoke softly. "He loved her; loved Rin. And I killed her. He—He must have found out. This is the only thing that could ever change him. Obito... Rin... I'm so sorry."

"Kakashi, I'm—"

He stood sharply. "No, Sakura, it's fine. You did the right thing." All trace of remorse was gone from his voice. She felt a chill. "What else do you know?"

Sakura held herself, mind whirring with what to say. Kakashi stood there, cold and resolute, and she was scared. "Confronting him now may make things worse," she said in hope.

"You trust me, don't you?"

Sakura faulted. "Kakashi, don't pull that on me."

"This is important. This is Obito. This is my past. And you suggest that... that..." His words travelled to nothing. "You knew this all along."

She closed her eyes tightly, panic rising in her body. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

He startled her when he placed a hand on her shoulder, heavy, gripping tight, and breathed in deep. "The burden..."

"Kakashi, please..." Sakura begged.

His voice became wistful, lost, as he spoke. "What does he want? Is it just revenge? Is it?" Kakashi looked to her, his eye glistening with unshed tears. "Is it, Sakura?"

Any words were caught in her throat and the urge to throw up took hold. "I don't know. If it was... wouldn't he just... kill you?"

"But he isn't. He – they – are after the Tailed Beasts; for Naruto, Gaara, and others. Why?"

"I was not... privy to the details back then. I only caught the words 'Moon's Eye Plan', every now and then."

"Do you know anything else?"

"He wears a mask," she said glumly. "I don't know where he is now but in two/three years he replaces Sasori of the Red Sand in his pairing with Deidara from Iwa."

"They sound familiar." Kakashi looked to her. "And do you know the other members of Akatsuki?"

Sakura hesitated to answer. "Yes."

He held his expression, serious and hard, for several seconds too long. Sakura felt her stomach drop, even further when he suddenly smiled and patted her head. "This will help a lot, Sakura. Any further information you have will be of use to Konoha. This is a serious matter after all."

She felt sick. "What do you plan to do?"

"I plan... to take this to the Hokage, and he'll pass it on to whomever he thinks needs to know; Jiraiya, springs to mind."

"What about the next Hokage?"

"I'm sure that if it is someone Sarutobi chose, it is someone who can be trusted with your knowledge. He may not tell them who you are, just that... he has a little birdie."

That didn't help her any better. She felt worse than ever, and it didn't lighten up when Kakashi eventually left her at the graves of his old teammates. She was scared; no, terrified. She hoped that things would end sooner this time, that fewer people would die or be in danger. This time 'round, at least.

Then again, Ino and her mother had been lost in the billows, and there was not a single thing she could have done about it. It didn't matter what Sakura knew. It didn't matter how many times she hoped for a change by what she said or she left unsaid. It didn't matter because there was also always going to be someone who'd die.

What if, next time, it was her?

At last he stood at the spot his parents were killed. He could practically hear their screams, the swing of Itachi's blade as he swept through their bodies like butter. He could smell the blood still stained on the floor at his feet, could picture the way their bodies fell from how he remembered them lying dead before him when he was young. And he was there, finally strong enough to visit the memories long since darkened by dust and blood.

Yet while angry, this anger was curbed still by the damning curiosity for Itachi's tears, for everything else that did not make sense that he'd come to realise in the past year.

Sasuke flinched. Someone else was in the compound, coming towards him, to his secret spot. He prepared himself for conflict, then let all the strain go from his muscles when he recognised who it was. He listened to her footsteps as she traversed his old home, going the wrong way once or twice, and all the while he wondered as to what sort of evidence Sakura could bring to persuade him from his decision.

He wanted answers. He needed them.

The door slid open and the floorboards creaked under her light weight. "You made it," she said.

"Yes." He was strong enough now, to come face to face with those answers, to build himself to the point where he could look Itachi in the eyes and say he was a worthy adversary. He could actually feel it within him. He was ready for the future.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Good. What have you brought me?" Straight to business. He doubted she'd have anything that could dissuade him now. He was so ready. So ready.

"Nothing." He heard her shift her weight around, heard her breathing. "I came to join you."

Sasuke peered over his shoulder. "Join me? Why?"

Those eyes of hers were plagued, made heavy by a burden she'd always hinted at but never fully explained. He hadn't seen her since the festival two days ago, since he left to play poker, but something had happened between then and now.

"Does it matter?" she asked.

He faced her entirely. "If we are to be partners, then tell me why."

"Because there's history I need to know," she said without skipping a beat. "And I think it's the same thing you want."

"You know of the consequences."

"Yes."

"I don't want this to be a reaction from your mother's death."

"I'm not an underling you must watch over, Sasuke. If we do this, we're partners. We support each other, not baby each other."

At this he silenced and exhaled softly. "Alright. Partner."

There was reluctance in her visage before it gave way to resolution, and once again her thoughts, her feelings, were utterly lost to him like they had been since graduation a year ago. She cleared her throat and came closer to the spot where his parents were killed. Part of him wanted to stop her from treading onto ground that he oddly cherished, but another held him at bay; this was merely where they were killed. Eventually he'll have this place cleaned into something new, something else, where it will be remembered not for the spot where his family died but for more.

"Do you have any plans for this house?" she asked, walking about the empty room.

In distant memories this was where his father would take other members of the clan to talk in private. This room was cold, the doors always closed. Maybe he could remove them, and the windows, letting in more light during the day. Maybe he could remove the entire side wall so that it would be open to gaze upon the gardens and vast grass area. There was so much he could do, he didn't dare think more of it until he'd settled into a plan for his future intent.

"Some," he said. "But perhaps we should talk of what we must do next." Sakura nodded, turning back to him shrouded in the darkness of the night. "Tell me what you know."

"Little. I don't know who 'they' are, but they are concealing any information regarding my mother's death. I encountered the mob days before the fire at your compound, and had myself a little run in with a few members. Most of all, I remember their screaming for Danzo. I want to know about Danzo and his role in Konoha's history. I want to know if I can trust him with the future of Konoha through the executions of his beliefs and plans."

"You don't trust the new Hokage, whoever it may be?" Sasuke asked.

"I trust the current Hokage has made good of his choice. What I'm afraid of is what Konoha might do to overthrow them and have Danzo at the helm, and what Danzo might do to instigate it."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "Overthrow the next Hokage? How did you come to this conclusion?"

She faulted, taking her time now before responding. "You didn't see the mob, Sasuke. They didn't want you rebuilding the Uchiha compound. They didn't want anyone but Danzo."

"They are but a select few."

"But they scream the loudest, and others of Konoha are doing nothing to stop them, like they don't care who leads." She stepped closer to him and sighed. "What I want, Sasuke, is for Konoha to be on the same page. Our history has many secrets, and it is tearing us apart."

"Should you expose them to the public?"

At this she stopped and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "I hadn't thought of that just yet." She sniffed. "And what of you? What did you plan to do with whatever information you found?"

"If it's what I hope for, to free myself and my brother from whatever we're captured in. I'd be... grateful... if Konoha would still accept us. I have come to like this place, despite it's many faults. But if they didn't, then I'd leave; this time with my brother."

Her expression softened. "You say it as if you believe he is already innocent."

"He's not innocent. But he doesn't deserve any more of my – or Konoha's – hate." Sasuke crouched, touching the old blood soaked into the wood. This was his parents blood, mixed together.

He'd come so far; grown so much. He liked to think that they were smiling at him, proud from their place in life after death, because he was surmounting to something. And he wasn't alone.

He smiled softly. "Sakura."

"Hm?"

He stood and looked her in the eyes. "Thank you for everything."

-fin