NARUTO: The Year Winter Followed Spring [Tobirama/Sakura] [Part Two]

[moor]

A snippet of a WIP while I edit and finish writing it. Many, many thanks to sariasprincy  and mspixiepixie  for their beta help! 

Based on an idea I started working on years ago that I picked up again recently. 

 Pairing: Tobirama/Sakura

Setting: Modern Fae-ish AU

Rating: T for now; M later

[Part One] [Part Two]

 

 When they entered Tobirama’s cabin, he closed the door behind them, shutting out the building winds. They had grown stronger as they left the escarpment and hiked deeper into the wood. They followed no visible trail that Sakura could see, but Tobirama knew the route well.

Sakura untied her boots and set them by the door. The scent of pine wafted around her, and she noted the pile of firewood on the porch and more stacked inside by the stone chimney. It was a rustic building of square, exposed beams and hardwood floors; but possibly the most comfortable dwelling she had ever visited with its thick rugs and hand-hewn table and chairs. When her socked feet touched the floor, she was surprised to find it warm. 

“There are hot springs under his part of the mountain,” explained Tobirama. “There are pipes that wind beneath the house and up the walls to keep it warm.” 

He took her jacket from her hands and hung it on a hook on the wall. 

“I don’t suppose there’s a hot tub?” teased Sakura.

“There are mineral spring baths, sourced from the hot springs.”

Sakura’s head whipped around to stare at Tobirama.

“Two indoors, one outdoors.”

Sakura’s mouth fell open. “How has no one ever found this place?”

“It’s only available to those I invite.”

“But lost hikers would find it, wouldn’t they?”

“No. Only those whom I invite can see it or find it.”

Trailing her hand over the worn-soft wood of the table, Sakura looked over her shoulder at Tobirama. Her eyes met his. His voice betrayed nothing, but it was becoming more and more obvious to her that they were linked by more than the seasons; their loneliness connected them like a red thread, too.

“I always stayed to the trails I could see,” she realized aloud.

“You see the spring trails. I follow the winter ones,” explained Tobirama.

“Is it possible to make the path here a winter-and-spring trail?” asked Sakura. 

Tobirama blinked.

“So I could keep you company while you rest?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to. You can’t leave the forest when you rest, can you? That’s why you came to see me at my office, before you…before winter officially turns to spring.”

Tobirama walked to a cupboard, not answering Sakura with words, but she could tell by the taut line of his shoulders that she had hit the nail on the head.

“You should eat before you head back,” said Tobirama, his head hidden by the cupboard door. He pulled down two plates and a pair of cups before moving to the woodburning stove which, strangely, was already burning. Had it been burning when they arrived? She hadn’t seen smoke outside. But how could it still be burning if they had been out for hours on the cliffs?

Tobirama noticed her staring at the stove, narrow-eyed and mistrustful.

“There are some… benefits to being the winter fae,” he said.
“You bring the cold. You also bring warmth,” said Sakura as she straightened, her hands tucked into her back pockets.

Tobirama nodded.

Sakura’s smile was gentle. “Is that why I always felt warm walking through the forest in winter?”

The carton of eggs slipped from Tobirama’s hand to the counter an inch too soon.

Sakura tilted her head, her brows knitted.

“Something like that,” said Tobirama. He opened the carton to check the eggs.

“Hm?”

“You’ll figure out your own...magicks.  You sort of feel them out. They’ll call to you, too. Now that you’re aware of them, you will pick up on them quickly, I suspect,” said Tobirama, cracking eggs into the pan. 

“One of those, ‘the more I do it, the easier it gets’, kind of things?” 

“Yes.”

Unsure where to stand in Tobirama’s home, Sakura considered hopping up on the counters, but her mother’s sharp voice echoed in her head that it was rude. Deciding to make herself useful, she walked to the fridge.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Anything is fine.”

“You get tap water if you don’t speak up.”

“The tap water is fed from an underground spring. It is very healthy.”

Sakura looked heavenward and begged for patience.

“I want to help you. I want to contribute,” said Sakura, closing the fridge.

“You do.”

“Not just by bringing spring...That takes you away.”

The eggs crackled in the pan. With a deft hand, Tobirama sliced several pieces of bread and set them on a shelf inside the oven. After flipping them over and retrieving them again, he set their plates and brought them to the table. Sakura filled their glasses with spring water before she joined him.

“You misunderstand. I do not…perish…at the coming of spring,” said Tobirama, offering Sakura first dibs on butter, salt and pepper.

“Part of you does.”

He shook his head. “No. I return to the land, the forest, the air. I don’t ‘go’ anywhere I’m not already. You see me like this now; but I have always been here, in one form or another.” He looked up from his late breakfast to watch her steadily. “As each season has cycles, so do we.”

The fork in Sakura’s hand was heavy. “I’m attached to this part of your cycle,” she said quietly. 

For the first time in years, Sakura felt small. There was so much to take in, yet she felt she already knew or understood much of it. There was so much to do, but she felt like she could already do it. There was so much to let go of, but…that she struggled with.

The muscles of Tobirama’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he did not speak immediately.

They ate another few minutes in silence, Sakura with her eyes downcast, Tobirama with his thoughts hidden behind his shuttered eyes. When he finished his meal, he arranged his cutlery neatly and looked carefully at Sakura. He swallowed, his brows furrowed as he considered his words.

“You won’t be alone, Sakura,” he said gently.

“Do you have to go?”

Tobirama’s proud shoulders remained firm, but the expression in his eyes softened. “What do you want?”

“Could we have today? In the forest? Together, like this?”

Tobirama’s lips thinned, though the apple of his throat bobbed again. 

“We can have today.”

Sakura’s shoulders sagged with relief as her chest lifted with hope and excitement.

*****

They visited every glade, every glen, every thicket in the forest. They climbed over root, over branch, over furrows in rock and explored the depths of the caves hidden deep, deep in the rockface that gave way and crashed into the ravine. The sun, high in the sky, warmed the air and ground, and Sakura noted that the patches of snow grew smaller and smaller the longer the day progressed. 

Tobirama answered Sakura’s every question, led her to streams where she could practice thawing the ice to forgotten, decayed trees and bark where she could touch the soft moss before finally back to the edge of the cliff they had reunited atop that morning to feel the last rays of sun upon their faces as it sank beneath the horizon.  

As they walked, the frost melted away bit by bit to be replaced with snowdrops. With an eye on their path forward and a glance at their backs, Tobirama’s eyes narrowed as the snowdrops started as sprouts. By mid afternoon, they were in full bloom. The lines of his mouth tightened. Understanding followed, and his chin lowered as he turned his back on the flowers to focus on Sakura, noting the eagerness and keen intelligence that lit her face as she asked another question. 

The snowdrops that day were not his.

As they sat atop the outcropping, clouds began to gather overhead. The sunset continued, however, until the last rays disappeared and twilight set in.

Having only slept about three hours the night before and spending the entire day hiking and climbing, Sakura leaned heavily against Tobirama as darkness fell. Her eyelids weighed a hundred pounds andher heart slowed in her chest as sleep clawed at her insides, dragging her down into its replenishing comfort.

A chill wind met a warm updraft that circled them. 

Sakura’s shoulders twitched. “It’s cold,” she murmured into Tobirama’s fur collar.

“Not for long,” said Tobirama, his voice a low rumble against Sakura’s cheek. He looked up. “We must head back.”

Her fingers tightened in his jacket. “Not yet.”

“Sakura…”

“...’m not ready yet...”

With his arm around Sakura, Tobirama looked at her sleepy, distressed face. His shoulders sagged as his eyes lingered upon the lines across her brow. With a hesitant hand, he reached out to trace the puckered brow to smooth its stress with his warm touch.

Wetness gently prickled his face and Tobirama looked up as a mixture of rain and snow had begun to fall from the gathered clouds. A shiver of cold snaked its way inside him. He closed his eyes.

With infinite grace, Tobirama stood, Sakura asleep in his arms. She curled into his warmth instinctively, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Her warm breath tickled the fur at his throat. He looked to the horizon. 

It was nearly full dark. It would take too long to return her to her car and with the storm brewing, it wouldn’t be safe either.

Looking down at Sakura’s softly sleeping face, the way her even breaths had begun to mist in the chilling air, Tobirama made his decision. Kneeling, he rested Sakura in his lap while adjusting his attire slightly, then lifted her in his arms again and carried her back to his cabin.

That night, as their jackets hung on the hooks by the door and winter heaved its last hurrah and the first spring storm blew through the Founders Forest, the woodstove kept the cabin warm and the hot springs kept the air humid.

And Tobirama held Sakura to him as he counted each pound of thunder, each bolt of lightning, each round of hail, outside, that heralded the transition of one cycle to another.

*****

When Sakura woke the next morning, the sun had already risen outside. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned and stretched languorously. 

She felt…incredible. 

Then she opened her eyes and nearly had a heart attack.

“Where the…”

She wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t in her home, she was in an entirely different building—
Her voice caught in her throat as the previous day speed ran through her mind. Her head whipped around, searching.

“Tobirama?” she called, sitting up. “Tobi?”

Thick, warm blankets fell to her lap while something terribly soft tickled her ear.

Reaching up, Sakura touched—

She swallowed a sob, glancing at the window. She lifted the curtain.

Outside, robins and wrens and sparrows sang, newly formed green buds swelled on their branches and insects woke from their hibernation underground.

“So I brought spring,” she murmured, in awe and anguish.

The white fur collar soothed her as she stroked it, her eyes warm as she took deep calming breaths. 

“You’re still here,” Sakura repeated to herself quietly. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, pressing her lips together. 

She took a last, deep breath and lifted her chin.

“And now it’s my turn.”

A chill breeze lifted the hair off the back of her neck in a gentle caress. Spooked, Sakura’s hand lifted to rub her neck as she looked around. The windows were closed. There shouldn’t have been a draft. 

It hit her then.

She smiled wryly. “I suppose that’s my cue to go wake up the rest of the forest.”

A gentle breeze nudged her back.

Shaking her head, Sakura teased, “Kicking me out first thing in the morning, such a gentleman…”

The windows rattled ominously.

Sakura bit her lip and smirked, trying not to laugh out loud.

After a hearty breakfast, Sakura packed herself a lunch and gathered the rest of the expirable food in her pack. As she put on her coat, she saw something glinting in the transom pane of the front door. As she reached up, her heart swelled in her throat a moment. A key on a woven lanyard hung there, with a small tag labelled ‘S’.

“I’ll take good care of this place. I promise,” said Sakura to the cabin. 

Then she locked the door behind her and faced the Founders in spring. She lifted the lanyard over her head and wore the key around her neck. It was warm against her skin.

Strong emotion coursed through Sakura. On instinct, she knelt, pressing her hands to the loamy earth of the forest floor.
A hundred thousand lives and more shot through her palms and throughout her body, zinging and zipping and carousing in excitement to finally wake and feel freedom again.

“Wakey wakey,” murmured Sakura, smiling. “Welcome back.”

She sent the waves of life out through her fingertips and down into the earth, into the roots and up through the trees. The grass deepened from faded yellow to vibrant green, the buds on the branches unfurled their leaves in a rippling cascade around her, and the light flickering between the overhead canopy became dappled as the branches spread wide, sheltering her from the heat of the sun that would feed them all.

It really was like magic, just as Tobirama said.

The spring waters ran in rippling currents over the rocks, frog jellies sticking to tall reeds in calm offshoots and ponds; peepers heralded her arrival at each stream and Sakura grinned down at them as a few hopped alongside her, skirting around the snowdrops, buttercups, ephemerals and crocuses that bloomed by her feet. 

The spring trails were bountiful, now that she felt them rather than looked for them with her eyes. 

It was then that Sakura realized that for all the hail from the night before, she hadn’t seen a single patch of snow that morning. That was when she knew the last place she still must go.

The outcropping of rock that overlooked the valley was as desolate as ever when she reached it. Swallowing thickly, Sakura took a deep breath and planted her hands on her hips.

“I can do this,” she murmured to herself, reaching up to stroke the snowy fur collar around her throat.

She untied her boots and put her socks inside, then went to stand at the edge of the overhang. Planting her feet, she closed her eyes and reached, deep inside herself, deep inside the earth, deep inside the magic, the power, the life that beat inside her chest. She brought her hands together, the hand signs instinctual, and summoned forth life.

A spark. 

A twist. 

A crack. 

—Then the force rushed from Sakura in a flood that left her dizzy, spent and elated, taking her breath and leaving her gasping as it spread across not only the forest, but everything up to the horizon. When she opened her eyes, her lips fell open in wonder.

The bare branches from just two days earlier now exalted in their spring finery, reaching for the sky with leaves and twigs and buds and all. Between herself and Konoha now lay a vibrant sea of greens, interwoven and protecting each other, reaching to greater heights with each glorious ray of sunshine.

Shaken and weak, Sakura fell to her knees, her eyes shining as she gaped at the transformation. She let the tears fall. 

“I did it, Forest Friend.”

A soft breeze ruffled the hair at the back of her neck again before curling around her wrists, squeezing them, then disappearing without a trace.

******

Sakura drove home only long enough to shower, change, and prepare more meals for herself before she set back out for the forest. As she walked the paths she’d known since her childhood, she thought back to the times she had started to wander before a rustling bush would scare her back on to the trail or a shiver would tingle between her shoulder blades, sending her in a different direction. She spent all weekend in the Founders, even overnight in a small tent with a propane stove just to be closer to it, to him, to everything.

Every twist and turn Sakura took, another memory surfaced of how lonely she had been; but realized, now, that she had never been alone. There had always been a white rabbit to follow or footprints in the snow to lead her back to her trail. There had always been snowdrops to admire when she needed a break or a water source when she was thirsty. There were trees that she remembered seeing every single year she visited the forest in one season or another and as she touched their coarse bark now, they radiated peace and welcome at her return, like a fond, old friend. This place was her home, her family. 

A gentle breeze brushed across Sakura’s cheeks, ruffling her hair. She smiled.

“I understand now,” she said aloud. 

The breeze faded away after passing over her shoulders, now that she wore t-shirts in the warming weather.

She returned to the forest several evenings a week after that first weekend, and every weekend after. Ensuring the forest’s wellness became part of her own wellness routine. After a storm would pass through, she would mourn the loss of the weaker trees and paths, and pass their spirits along to the new growth that would already be sprouting underneath. Life came in cycles, after all. She spoke to the forest like a friend. She told it about her day, her struggles and successes. She always felt closer to Tobirama when she did so.
He’d always walked beside her, so she thought she could at least be a good conversation partner. And every so often, when she needed it most, a white fox, out of place in the spring, would cross her path and look up at her with red eyes, unafraid. Or a patch of snowdrops would appear, far too late in the season to be there naturally. They always brought a smile to her face. 

He was there.

One afternoon, as summer neared, Tsunade appeared in Sakura’s office. It was the first time Sakura had heard from her mentor in months…since she had met Tobirama face to face, in fact.

Setting her sunglasses down on Sakura’s desk, Tsunade looked her apprentice over. Her sun-kissed cheeks, her healthy glow, her peaceful countenance. Sakura was healthier than Tsunade had seen her in years. 

“—which was when I…”

Then Tsunade’s amber eyes fell upon the fluffy white scarf Sakura wore around her shoulders, and her lips stilled in her banter.

Noting the way Sakura shifted, unconsciously stroking the fur, understanding dawned in Tsunade. She looked up, holding Sakura’s curious, shifty gaze.

“He finally found you,” murmured the blonde woman in an ageless voice.

Swallowing, Sakura nodded.

“I thought spring flourished rather… emphatically this year,” said Tsunade with an amused, knowing lilt to her voice.

Sakura’s brows puckered. “What do you mean?”

Tsunade blinked. Her lips thinned as she pressed them together a moment and shook her head. “Nothing.”

But Sakura watched her mentor swallow convulsively, as if trying not to laugh.

“What?” asked Sakura, arching a brow. “What am I not getting?”

“Nothing,” insisted Tsunade, her lips twisting into a smirk. “You’ll understand when you’re more experienced.”

Sakura frowned at Tsunade. “You’re making fun of me for something I don’t understand.”

“It’s not the first time.”

“How did they allow you to have residents?”

“They threatened to take away half my funding.”

Sakura sighed. “I knew it…”

Tsunade chuckled at her former apprentice. She sipped her tea as Sakura shook her head, but her eyes wandered to the fur ruff once more. 

“Perhaps summer can start a little later this year,” said Tsunade, watching Sakura’s fingers carding through Tobirama’s token.

Sakura bit her lip. “Actually, summer can start whenever it’s ready,” she said. She forced a small smile for Tsunade’s sake.

“You’re sure?” asked Tsunade.

Sakura nodded. “Everything has a season, and every season has a cycle.”

And every season’s end brought her closer to having Tobirama again, whole and…

Tsunade’s gaze was soft as she looked at the fur. “This year, I won’t keep you apart any longer than necessary,” she promised. “I can’t speak for Hashirama, of course, but…”

Sakura’s face fell.

Hashirama.

Senju Hashirama. 

Hashirama whom she’d been dismissing, throwing out of her office and ignoring since the beginning of her sabbatical. That Hashirama, who also controlled autumn’s arrival…and to an extent, dismissal… 

“Fuck,” groaned Sakura, her head thumping to her desk.

Tsunade winced and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sure he won’t be too awful.”

“Yes, he will,” moaned Sakura from her faceplant on the desk.

“Eh, he’s a romantic at heart. He’ll give in eventually.”

Sakura groaned and vowed to—ugh—start picking up a shift or two at the hospital over the summer holidays to start ingratiating herself back into Hashirama’s good graces.

“He planned this,” muttered Sakura.

Tsunade flicked Sakura’s head. “He’s also the one who told Tobirama where to find you,” said Tsunade.

Picking her bruised forehead up, Sakura looked plaintively at her mentor.

Tsunade nodded.

Sakura sighed, crestfallen. “I hate owing people.”

“Ah, but the rewards, Sakura…Think of the rewards…”

Tsunade’s eyes gleamed devilishly before softening.

“Go rage at Tobirama’s cabin for a while tonight. You’ll feel better, after.”

“You know about the cabin?”
“I know there is a cabin. Hashirama is the only person I know who has ever seen it other than Tobirama. They built it together with their bare hands.”

That calmed Sakura considerably. She nodded.

Her suspicions confirmed and concerns allayed, Tsunade took her leave soon after. After leaving a suitably polite and not at all grovelling voicemail for Hashirama, Sakura let Nami leave early for the weekend and closed up the reception area. She grabbed her pre-prepared meals from the office fridge and changed into her hiking gear before locking the office behind her and driving straight to the forest.

The hike to Tobirama’s cabin burned some of the nerves from Sakura’s veins, but it was only once she was safely inside, her boots by the door, that she let out the truly frustrated sigh she’d been holding in, releasing it into the silence of the cabin’s walls. 

“Difficult day?”

Sakura spun around on her heel, shivers zipping along her skin. She was alone in the cabin—or she thought she had been. There was no one she could see…but...

“Tobirama?”

“Here in…spirit.”

His voice came from all around and just beside her, and the sound of it made Sakura’s throat tighten. When he didn’t materialize, her heart sank.

“Oh.” 

Sakura’s shoulders sagged as she drooped, dragging her bag to the kitchen table.

“What’s wrong?”

So many things. She decided on what had driven her to seek out the comfort of his cabin.

“I have to grovel with your brother to get on his good side.”

“Why?”

“I may have been…rude in my dealings with him since my sabbatical began.”

“Were you rude or direct?”

Sakura winced. “Maybe a bit of both.”

“He won’t punish you for long. He is principled, not vindictive.”

“I hope you’re right,” sighed Sakura.

“He is not the type to hold grudges.”

Relaxing as she took a seat at Tobirama’s kitchen table, Sakura nodded and unpacked her meals, putting the extras in the fridge.

“You’re here for several days?”

“It’s the long weekend,” said Sakura. “I thought we could spend it…” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to spend it here. If that’s okay.”

There was silence for a beat before Tobirama’s essence replied. “It is.”

Heat rose in Sakura’s cheeks. “Thank you. You didn’t seem to mind the other times I came by, so I just…made myself at home.”

“I noticed the spare toothbrush and hairbrush.”

“I thought it would be rude to use yours.”

There was another stretch of quiet before Tobirama spoke again. “You may bring whatever you need to this place to feel comfortable, Sakura.”

“I won’t bring too much. I like that it…” Sakura bit her tongue.

“Yes?”

She couldn’t say it. He may not be visible, but Sakura knew he was watching her. She couldn’t say that she liked that the cabin smelled like him, reminded her of him. Made her feel closer to him. Hearing his voice for the first time in months, the longing loosened her tongue far more than she was comfortable with.

“I like it the way it is,” she amended, like a coward.

There was a tiny puff of cool air that blew over her head, as if Tobirama stood behind her, his breath cascading down her hair. Instinctively Sakura turned, searching for him, her hands gripping the back of the chair.

The cool air receded.

Swallowing her disappointment, Sakura took a deep breath to compose herself.

So close…

“It can always get better,” said Tobirama softly.

Sakura nodded wordlessly.

Then she straightened. “Um, I’ve been…staying in your bed. And I kept your fur with me. I can, um, sleep on the couch, and return the collar, if you want.”

“You’re fine…where you...are,” said Tobirama.

“Tobirama?” Sakura’s heart hitched as his voice faded.

“I’ll return…tonight…”

Sakura nodded.

“I’ll be here,” she said.

There was no caress of cool air this time, but something inside her told her he’d heard her words.

When Sakura turned around, she felt warmth coming from the side. Looking to the far wall, she noticed the wood burning stove was lit, a kettle of water steaming atop it. She blinked before her smile bloomed and she turned to the cupboard to fetch a cup and the canister of tea she had left at the cabin several weeks before.

As excitement began to build inside her, she pulled down a second cup too.

…just in case.

*****

Sakura ate her supper in one of the oversized wooden chairs on the sheltered porch that evening. The crack of thunder and splash of lightning that rolled in with the storm that night lifted the hair on her arms and energized her deliciously. It also set her nerves on edge in a way she couldn’t explain. An oppressive heat, then light rain soon followed, tempering her restlessness, but then the downpour opened, releasing the pressure that had been building all day and Sakura took to pacing the length of the porch.

She bit her lip, looking out into the dark forest that called to her. Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of a section lit up by yellow-blue lightning, hear the wind pick up, feel it press against her bare skin as she paced in her cutoffs and tank top. Summer was coming on strong that night. 

But something inside Sakura wanted to fight it, too. 

Now that she thought about it, she had been energized during the day she stayed with Tobirama at his cabin, too...

“The Solstice,” realized Sakura, clutching her phone as she paced the porch. The transition from spring to summer.

She almost laughed. So that was why she had been so restless, those months ago. It had been the vernal equinox. She had spent the entire day, from before dawn until dusk, hiking and tromping through the forest, working off the excess energy. She always went camping at the equinox and solstice, now that she thought of it, or went for a really good, demanding hike. Those days had always been so satisfying, too. Being closer to the earth, the forest, the land. She had never, ever felt lonely on those days.

“You were with me then, too, weren’t you?” Sakura said aloud, staring out into the stormy forest. “Do you feel like this, when the cycle transitions?”

A sharp gust of wind spun her on her feet, leaving Sakura gasping and laughing. Her eyes glowed.
“I want to go for a run,” she said, still staring hungrily into the woods.

Suddenly, the wind shoved her sharply back against the porch wall, hard enough to knock the breath from Sakura’s lungs. She bared her teeth and tried to pull away, but the wind pressed her harder, preventing her from leaving.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” snapped Sakura.

“Not…safe…tonight…”

Sakura stilled. She had barely made out the words; had felt them more than heard them. But Tobirama’s voice had been worked up.

“Why not?” called Sakura, looking around. It almost felt like Tobirama himself was crushing her to the wall.

“Fire…”

The blood in Sakura’s veins slowed. She stopped fighting Tobirama and the wind dissipated, allowing her to move again. She sank to her knees and crawled to the edge of the porch, then reached down to touch the earth below, closing her eyes.

“No,” she whispered.

The screams of her forest reached up through her fingers and into her soul. Branches ablaze. Trunks split in half by lightning. Animals running wildly, seeking refuge in places that had begun to flood. Trees felled, uprooted by the wicked winds.

“No,” mourned Sakura, sagging against the planks of the wooden porch.

A gentle breeze stroked over her shoulder while Sakura wept at the loss. She had worked so hard to build the forest that spring, and in a single swipe, summer’s storm wrought havoc in a dozen glens and glades.

Time passed and the warm summer winds turned chilly with the release of the atmospheric pressure. Goosebumps pebbled Sakura’s bare skin. She had fallen asleep after channelling so much of her energy into saving the burning forest. Her hand hung limply over the edge of the porch, still connected to the earth.

Knelt at Sakura’s side, Tobirama’s lips pressed together before he exhaled coolly.

As he had at the spring equinox, he lifted her in his arms and carried her inside where the stove was already burning, warding off the chill that followed the storm. He washed her in the hot spring, mindful of her sensitive hands, and placed her in his bed. Then he climbed in beside her, pulling the covers up over her before he wrapped her in his arms and fur collar.

“Rest,” he murmured into her hair, finishing the tea she had brewed for him. He left the cup on his bedside table, content to spend whatever time he had with her in any way they could.

They would meet again.  The next equinox was only a few months away.

*****

Sakura woke early the next morning, the sun just barely over the horizon. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she felt the warm breath blowing over her hair. She stiffened for a second, hearing a heartbeat beneath her ear, then, his pine needles and frost scent filled her lungs and she burst awake—

—only to feel his phantom hands slipping from her shoulders.

“Tobi? Tobirama?”

Beneath the covers, the sheets beside her were still warm from his body heat. 

Shaking her head, Sakura reached out, frantically patting them, searching for him. “No,” she murmured. “No, no, no.”

Clenching her teeth, she swallowed over the lump in her throat. He’d been there! He’d just been there!

“We barely got to talk last night,” she whimpered, her fingers tightening in the sheets where she grasped for his missing form.

Sakura collapsed to the mattress, burying her face in the pillow that smelled freshly like Tobirama again.

“Fucking dammit,” cursed Sakura, pounding the pillow.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Sakura turned her head to stare at the doorway into the room.

At first, she noticed the cup beside the bed. Then she spied the eggs, toast, oatmeal, and apple slices set out on the table in the main room of the cabin.

“Tobirama…?”

“Hurry, your breakfast is getting cold,” called Tobirama from the next room.

Sakura shot from the bed like the devil was on her heels. She raced into the main room, scanning it everywhere for any hint of Tobirama’s tall frame, his broad shoulders, his white hair, his—

“Tobi—”

She nearly rammed into the table when she slipped on the rug.  Strong hands caught her shoulders, steadying her.

“Slow down.”

Instead, Sakura spun on her heels, instinctively looking up to find Tobirama’s eyes…only to find nothing at all. He wasn’t there…in body. At least, not anymore.

Her bottom lip quivered. “I missed you?” she breathed, her voice cracking.

“No, we had last night,” came Tobirama’s disembodied voice. He nudged her towards the table, but Sakura tried to grab for him, missing him and losing her final piece of composure.

“You know what I mean!” she screamed at him, her heart bleeding.

“Sakura…”

But the loneliness that had plagued her for so long redoubled inside Sakura. Sobbing, she fell into the kitchen chair, her fists digging into her thighs as she shook with emotion.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?!”

“I was already…invisible to you.”

“It’s not fair!”

“We can fight or you can eat your breakfast and I can tell you how much of the forest you saved last night,” said Tobirama evenly.

Sakura hiccuped.

The stranger who entered her office that day months ago was the man before her now; intimidating, demanding and calm. And damn if it didn’t make Sakura sit up and take notice.

Her body trembled with emotion, but Sakura forced herself to drag in gulpfuls of air, to gather as much composure as she could. It angered her that he was so calm, and so right, but… 

“Will you stay all day?” she asked, her voice raw. She sniffled. “And don’t tell me you’re always here. I mean, will you be able to speak all day? Will I be able to hear you? F-feel you?”

Tobirama’s intake of breath was brief, but just audible enough for Sakura to make out. She looked sharply in the direction it had come from, and would have sworn she could feel his eyes burning into her.

Biting the inside of her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, Sakura hesitantly extended her right hand out.

There was a low huff before the chair beside was dragged out.

“Other hand,” said Tobirama gruffly.
Quick as a whip, Sakura’s left hand shot out as she sat up as straight as a soldier.

Tobirama gave a fond sigh, murmuring, “Now, eat.”

Then he squeezed her left hand.

Sakura beamed at him.

“Eat,” he ordered.

Sakura shoved an entire piece of toast in her mouth, bouncing in her seat.

—and promptly choked.

Tobirama’s thump on her back felt real enough for Sakura to spit her food across the room.

“Sorry, too excited.”

Somehow, Sakura knew Tobirama was shaking his head, appalled.

She squeezed his hand in hers tighter, in case he tried to make a break for it to avoid being associated with her ridiculousness.

*****

They walked the park the rest of the day. Tobirama pointed out places Sakura had sensed damage in the night before and together they mapped an even larger quadrant of the Founders Forest. The day warmed and Sakura tied her long-sleeved athletic shirt around her waist.

“Your shoulders will burn.”

“I’m putting on sunscreen,” said Sakura, digging through her bag.

“You missed a spot on your neck,” said Tobirama after she finished rubbing in the sun block.

“Where?”

There was a pause before Sakura felt a feather light caress at the base of her neck. “Here.”

Swallowing at the husky quality of Tobirama’s voice, Sakura nodded. She reached and rubbed lotion on the spot he had just touched. “Thanks.”

He didn’t reply.

“Anywhere else?”

Silence.
Tension curled through Sakura’s limbs. She turned in a slow circle, looking around. Mentally, she knew she wouldn’t see him, but there was something different. Something had changed.

She couldn’t feel Tobirama at all.

Her fingers tingled in the wake of his disappearance. She had only let go of him for a second!

“Tobirama?”

Her chest rising and falling more quickly, Sakura repacked her sunscreen and shouldered her bag again. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and reached. 

Not by the escarpment.

Not by the glade where they’d met as children.

Not at the cabin.

Sakura frowned. Where was he…

Help...

Her ears twitched. A voice.

Someone in the distance was calling. It wasn’t Tobirama, but where were they—

Tobirama suddenly flared his essence in a southern direction, and Sakura’s eyes snapped open.

“I’m coming,” she said, hurrying his way.

“Quickly.” Tobirama’s voice carried on the wind that guided her when she lost her path.

Half an hour later, Sakura reached the landslide. The storm the night before had washed away a forty foot section of trailway, dashing it, its rocks, trees and markers down into the ravine below. 

“Hello!” called Sakura, her hands at her mouth to help her voice carry. She kept one eye on the forest above her, checking for any sign of another slide.

“Is someone there? We need help!”

The ground beneath Sakura’s feet shifted, eroding away. She carefully retreated to the treeline.

“I’m here. What do you need?” called Sakura, wincing as her voice echoed against the rock.

“There are four of us,” called another voice. “Two are unconscious. We can’t throw a rope high enough to belay out. The ground keeps giving way.”

Shit.

“I’m going to call for help and then send a rope down. Do you know how to secure your friends to a litter of some kind, if I do?”

“In theory,” called the first man, not exactly brimming with confidence.

“Give me a minute to prep the rope,” said Sakura.

Pulling out her cellphone, Sakura called the emergency search and rescue evac unit directly. 

“It’s been a while,” drawled the voice on the other end of the phone.

“I need a team at these coordinates, probably an air evac, as soon as you can. Four people, two unconscious,” said Sakura, texting her GPS location to his personal cell phone.

“How long have they been there?” he asked, immediately becoming serious.

“Probably overnight. I’m going to set up a rope and belay down to get a closer look. The ridge keeps eroding under my feet, though. Landslide.”

The voice on the other end of the phone tensed. “Don’t you dare get closer if the ground’s unstable.”

“How long until you get a team out?” asked Sakura.
She’d already strapped her bag to a tree and was unloading her emergency first aid kit and belaying gear. She, Sasuke and Naruto had learned together one summer. To their surprise, Sakura had mastered it quicker than they had, easily walking up and down the climbing walls and cliff face as if it was second nature to her. She had learned never to hike without her gear in the Founders Forest.

Her carabiners clipping was just a touch too loud and she heard a chair being shoved back from a desk on the other end of the line.

“Sakura—If you go down there, alone, I swear—”

“Dinner’ll be on me next time, Kakashi. Promise. Again,” said Sakura, cinching her harness around her hips. “You got my text okay?”

“I’m going to spank—”

“Switching to Bluetooth,” said Sakura, tucking her phone in her pouch and putting in her earpiece. “No yelling, it’ll distract me.”

Gauging the depth of the treeline and the age of the trees, and having to estimate completely on how far down she had to go, Sakura set up her lines. Clipping herself in, she took a deep breath and began to slowly walk backwards, towards the dropoff.

“Starting my descent,” she said, her gloved hands releasing a little rope at a time.

A sharp gust of air blew her back towards the safety of the treeline.

Sakura sighed. “I need to do this, Tobi,” she murmured. “They need help.”

The wind blew her back more fiercely, but Sakura stood her ground.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“Do not go into that ravine, Sakura,” snapped Kakashi in her ear.

“Too late,” said Sakura, hopping over the ledge and heading down into the mess of storm runoff below.

At least Tobirama stopped puffing at her as she descended. He must have understood how dangerous it was to risk blowing her off-balance. 

The men trapped below called encouragement and direction to Sakura as she descended, while Kakashi berated her before hanging up on her. Then called her back once he was in the helicopter on his way to her with an evac team.

“Eyes yet?” he asked.

“Almost there,” said Sakura, chancing a glance over her shoulder. “About two dozen meters to go.”

“How far in total do you estimate?”

“From the ridge?” Sakura looked up. “At least a hundred feet,” said Sakura, calculating by the coloured bands in her lines. “No, I think it’s more. It’s a bit shady down here. Closer to one-fifty.”

“A hundred and fifty feet of forest just fell away?” said Kakashi tersely.
He was showing more emotion on their call than during their entire relationship. Sakura felt a bit cheated, to be honest. She should have thrown herself off a cliff years ago.

“Give or take,” said Sakura. She looked down again, checking for a safe place to settle. Then she bit her lip.

“I heard that. You made the sound,” said Kakashi.

“This isn’t the bottom of the ravine,” said Sakura quietly, not wanting her conversation to carry to the men below. “They’re on an outcropping, I think. It’s a sheer drop on either side of them.”

Kakashi’s exhale was heavy in her ear. “Sakura,” he said evenly.

“I’m just going to stabilize the two that are unconscious,” promised Sakura.

“Sakura,” repeated Kakashi.

“If I can get one of the others out, I’ll do that after.”
“Sakura,” pleaded Kakashi, his voice weakening. 

Ceasing her rappel down and holding her place on the line, Sakura waited.

“Promise me you’ll keep your harness locked at all times,” said Kakashi.

“I’m always careful when I do this.”

“Promise.”

A gentle breeze lifted the hair from her neck, and Sakura sighed.

“I promise,” she said. “Happy?”

“Not until you’re out of there, safe and sound,” said Kakashi. “We’ll be there within the hour.”
“I left a few flags at the top of the ridge. You’ll see them.”
“No unnecessary risks, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say that, it makes me feel old.”

Sakura smirked. “Want me to stay on the line?” she asked.

“Yes. Updates every three minutes, if you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kakashi sighed, leaving Sakura smiling.

She was a dozen meters from the stranded hikers when her rope ran out. 

“Toss me a line,” called Sakura, gesturing to her rope.

“Ours are a bit dirty and wet. Is that okay?”

Sakura glanced over her shoulder. One man was holding up a filthy rope. It was too far away for Sakura to tell if it had been damaged in the slide. Now that she could see the men better, she realized they were in much worse shape than she’d anticipated. None of them would be able to belay out, even with assistance.
“Any others?” she asked hopefully.

“A few, but we had to cut them to splint my leg and his arm,” said the first man. “We lost the others in the landslide, with most of our gear.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Kakashi in Sakura’s ear. Mentally, she agreed with him.

“Toss me the dirty one,” she said.

“Been a while since I heard that one.”

“Kakashi…”

A few tries later, Sakura caught the line. As they’d warned, the rope was not in good shape, but it was all they had. With extreme delicacy, Sakura slowly let herself down onto the outcropping the men perched upon, up against the cliff face.

She got to work assessing and relaying details back to Kakashi as swiftly as she could. With her initial triage complete, Sakura reset the men’s splints and re-rigged their makeshift litters, securing the unconscious men with the extra bandages from her kit. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be enough to get them safely loaded onto the evac transport plinthes without risking more movement than necessary.

Speaking of, Sakura could hear the chopper in the distance.

“We’re coming in real slow,” said Kakashi. “Tell your patients to stay together as close to the cliff face as they can.”

“Already ahead of you there,” said Sakura. She had moved all the men against the rock face. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. The evac team would need room to set down personnel and gear.
She looked at the men beside her. “The evac is close. They’re being careful.”

“Are you clear of the ridge—wait, you’re still there with them?” Kakashi asked.

“Yes,” said Sakura.

“Were any of them able to make it out?”

“No.”

“So now there are five of you on the outcropping?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Are you still rigged?”

“Yes.”

“Are they?”

Sakura looked over the makeshift harnesses she had created from the leftover, dirty rope. Everyone was secured to her line, to the best of her abilities. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but it made everyone feel safer. Except for her.
Her rope was only certified to hold about half their combined weight.

She had no idea what the men’s rope was weighted for—and it was the one they were all secured to.

Above them, the sky began to darken. Sakura had been out most of the day with Tobirama, but she hadn’t thought it was that late yet. 

Shielding her eyes, Sakura looked up through the gap in the forest and tried to make out the position of the sun, but dark, heavy clouds had rolled in. A crack sounded in the far distance. The storm was coming back.

“How far off did you say you were,” asked Sakura.

A low rumble had the group of hikers tensing.

“Ten minutes,” replied Kakashi. “Why?”

“Thunderheads.”

“We see ‘em.” There was a pause before Kakashi added, quietly, “I want you to start climbing, Sakura.”

Dread pooled low in Sakura’s stomach.

“You know I won’t do that,” said Sakura carefully, mindful of the stranded hikers beside her. She gave them a reassuring smile and pointed at her ear piece, mouthing, “Evac.”

They nodded at her.

“Sakura, this is going to be very, very close. You know we can’t stay airborne once the lightning gets too close.”

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” said Sakura as the first drops of rain began to fall.

She had left her neon yellow, reflective hiking jacket as a flag at the top of the ridge. In her tank top and shorts, the rain felt like ice against her skin. Smiling at the men again, she unstrapped her canvas bag, untied her long-sleeved shirt and put it on again over her harness, then put on the extra layer. It wouldn’t stay dry long, but it would insulate her against the mounting gusts of shifty winds. Then she strapped her bag on, tight, leaning forward to hide her mouth.

“Tobi, not a good time,” she murmured under her breath. “I can’t climb in sleet.”

I’m not controlling it, Tobirama’s voice carried to her ear.

Well, that just made everything exponentially worse.

“Kakashi,” said Sakura.

“Tell me you’re climbing.”

“I’m getting to it,” lied Sakura. 

The rumbling in the distance grew louder. Instinctively, the group huddled closer to the rock face.

“Was that thunder or ground moving?” asked Kakashi, voice tense.

“You need to move faster,” said Sakura, glancing up at the top of the ridge. It was so dark she couldn’t see the top of her line any longer. Rain fell heavier, running into her eyes and forcing her to look away.

“Five minutes,” said Kakashi.

Another rumble, louder. This time the ground shook, and Sakura wobbled on her feet.

“Make it two or less,” said Sakura.

Against all regulations, Kakashi swore over the call.

The wind was so loud by now that Sakura could barely make out the sound of the approaching helicopter. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked upward again, just in time for lightning to blind her.

The crack it made deafened her.

But the feel of a man’s hand on her shoulder steadied her as she tripped toward the edge of the outcropping.

“Whoa,” said the hiker, tugging her back by the rope that connected them.

What scared Sakura just as much was the fact that there had been no gust of wind to shove her back from the edge.

“Tobirama?” murmured Sakura.

There was no response.

Sakura’s mouth went dry with fear.

“Sakura? Can you hear me?” called Kakashi. His voice was breaking up.

“Yes,” said Sakura, pressing a hand to her ear to block out the rest of the noise.

“Are you in your usual tied-together-for-emergencies formation?”

“Yes.”

Then he said the words she didn’t want to hear.

“Start cutting.”

 

*****

“Do any of you have a knife?” asked Sakura.

Well, it was more of a yell. They could barely hear each other over the storm.
“Like a mess kit knife?”

Sakura’s heart pounded in her chest at the unfortunate question. She shook her head. 

“Hunting knife. Or saw,” she added, crouching down to open her bag again.

There wasn’t much left inside, but she pulled out the sheathed camping knife that had a serrated blade on one side for sawing saplings, and the smooth, wickedly sharp blade on the other.

Gods bless Sasuke and Naruto for their gift. She had laughed at how big it was when they gave it to her, but now she promised to kiss them both if she lived through this night.

“We lost our gear in the—”

“Nevermind, just stay still,” ordered Sakura, going to work on the first set of ropes, the ones that connected the first litter to their train of harnesses.

“Hey, what are you doing?” said one man.

“The evac is almost here. We need to be ready to move quickly,” said Sakura, using all the authority of her Chief of the OR voice. 

“But what happens if—”

“Help or shut up,” snapped Sakura, not lifting her eyes from her sawing. They didn’t have time to untie knots one by one. Sooner than expected, the line frayed and broke. Sakura didn’t waste time and immediately moved on to the second immobilized hiker.

The first man free, the other two looked at each other.

“It’s bad, isn’t it,” said the first.

“Help or shut up,” repeated Sakura.

Her hands slipped on the wet rope, nicking her arm through her shirt, but she clenched her teeth and attacked the line all the more fiercely.

A regular whapping noise sounded above them, and Sakura’s heart tripped in her chest.

“Are those chopper lights above us?” she yelled.

“I think so!”

“Kakashi?”

“I’m on top of you now.”

Sakura barked out a laugh and Kakashi chuckled.

“You’ve been waiting a long time to say that again,” said Sakura.

The rope frayed and snapped under her fingers. The second man was free.

“The two immobilized men are ready for evac,” she said.

“How close are three and four?”

“Working on it,” muttered Sakura, not even looking at the third man as she began sawing at his ropes. 

To her surprise, he shoved her away. Sakura gaped at him, but he shook his head, panicked, as he clutched at the rope.

“You need to take it off so they can get you out of here,” said Sakura.

He shook his head again, and Sakura saw the fear in his eyes.

Fuck.

She moved on to the next man. 

“Give me your line,” ordered Sakura. 

Behind her, three pairs of boots landed in the squelching muck. Sakura only glanced at them long enough to gesture at the men on the litters before turning back to her goal of freeing the current man of his bonds.

“Y-you’re what? Like, a park ranger?” asked the man, his lips trembling and blue. 

It was only then that Sakura looked at him, truly looked at him. He couldn’t have been much out of his teens, if that. Sakura glanced at the others. They too were far younger than she’d realized.

Turning back to the matter at hand, Sakura shook her head, sawing away at his line as fast as she could. Her fingers ached from the cold. She knew she was shivering, but she had to finish.

“Nah, I was just out hiking and heard you guys,” said Sakura. “Lucky, huh?”

“More like sent from God,” joked the young man.

Sakura forced a smile for his sake. His ropes were more stubborn than the previous two. She bit her lip and flipped her blade over, pulling it tight to force it to fray faster.

“C’mon,” she muttered, her teeth chattering.

Behind her, the first two men were lifted in their litters, the evac team escorting them up.

“How are you doing, Sakura?” asked Kakashi too calmly.

“Looking forward to some decent fucking coffee when we get out of this,” said Sakura through clenched teeth.

“What colour is everyone’s skin, Sakura?”

“A little on the hypothermic side.”

“How are your hands?”

“My hands are fine, where are your guys? I have another one almost ready,” snapped Sakura.

“They’re securing the first two. Give them another few minutes—”

A boom shattered through Sakura’s eardrum and she dropped the knife, wincing.

“L-lady? Hey, lady? You okay?”

Her head spinning, Sakura blinked, a hand at her right ear.

When she pulled it away, the remnants of her earpiece fell out, coated in sticky fluid.

Her earpiece had exploded.

A touch on her shoulder brought her back. She looked up into the young man’s earnest eyes. It took several seconds for his words to sink in. Everything around her was garbled and fuzzy. 

“Hey, you okay?”

Sakura nodded as she read his lips. The sound all around her was off, echoing through her head strangely. She swallowed and searched the ground for the knife. It sliced her palm before she pulled it out of the mud, but she ignored the pain and went back to sawing him free. 

A minute later, he was. To her surprise, he pointed at her pack, mouthing something she didn’t understand.

Still somewhat stunned, Sakura shook her head, confused. She moved to the last man again, who shoved her away. 

The first young man pulled her away and made the finger-pinkie hand sign for ‘phone’, holding it up to his ear and pointing at her pack again.

Her head beginning to ache as much as her hands, Sakura squinted at him. Her phone. He wanted her phone.

Shit, Kakashi must have been two steps shy of a coronary.

Sakura carefully passed the young man the knife and nodded to his friend while she dug out her phone from the pack. Lifting it to her uninjured ear, she called out,

“Hello?”

“What the hell is going on down there?”

Her shoulders sagging, Sakura sighed. “Just a sec.”

She shoved the phone at the free young man and pointed him to the wall of rock.
“Stay there and tell this guy what’s happening!” she shouted.

The young man nodded. He retreated straight to the wall, his eyes wide as he began a play-by-play with the last of the party waiting for rescue.

That was when Sakura realized he wasn’t holding her knife anymore.

Which meant…

Dread mounted in her stomach as she turned to the last man yet to be cut free of the ropes. The panicked youth clutched her knife and shook his head at her, unhinged. His lips were as pale as marble, and he kept giving her panicked, stabby-stabby eyes, darting the knife out to keep her at bay.

“Stay away from me! I’m safe here! I’ll get out by myself!”

It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been holding the knife, Sakura reasoned with herself tiredly. She was perfectly willing to punch-and-stun him… 

But the knife was an unfortunate interference in the equation.

Hoping she could trick him, Sakura held up her hands. “Okay. You can stay here. I just need the knife to cut myself loose,” she lied.

“NO! That will cut me loose!”

“You can tie yourself up again,”—in a straight jacket, Sakura added unkindly—“once I’m free. But I need to catch my ride.” She pointed upward, but didn’t dare tear her eyes from his.

Woozy, Sakura stood her ground, her hands in the air.

“But if you go, how do I get out?”

“You come with me. Riding in a chopper’s pretty cool. How many of your friends will be able to brag about that?”

“...I’m afraid of heights.”

“Then close your eyes and hold on tight. The evac team will do all the work. They’re good people,” promised Sakura. “Apart from their team lead, Kakashi. He’s a bit of a prick. Stiffs you on the bills at your anniversary dinner kinda guy.”

“Uh, the guy on the phone says that’s patently untrue and you’re just a bitter ex,” called out the free young man, holding her phone.

Thunder and lightning cracked around them, pausing the argument temporarily.

“Tell him he still owes me for Vincenzo’s!” shouted Sakura over her shoulder. “Both times!”

“Uh, I really don’t think this is a good time for a domestic, sir, ma’am…”

Inching closer to the panicked boy, Sakura called over her shoulder,

“And Chez Ernie. I mean, what kind of a man takes his date to Chez Ernie? Stingy bastard! And I had to pay that night, too! Our waiter was a fucking puppet!”

“Uh, sir, I don’t—no, I’m not repeating that, sir—no, I’m sure you mean well, but I don’t think that’s going to help—”

“Talking wasn’t a strong point in our relationship,” admitted Sakura, shrugging at the boy she approached, inch by inch.

“I-I’m getting that,” he said, his hands trembling on the hilt of the knife.

“Uh, sir—no—no, please, stop, I’m not of age, that is no the kind of personal detail that—no sir, I insist, her flexibility is not something that is important to this conversation, or what she can do with her tongue—or feet—wait, feet? Really?”

“When can I expect my valet pick up, Kakashi?” shouted Sakura over her shoulder. “You owe me!”

Behind her, Sakura heard several pairs of feet squish softly into the muck, but didn’t dare turn back to look at them. Her focus was centered on the boy with the knife.

“That’s anatomically possible, sir? Really?”

Sakura shook her head, her heavy lidded stare irritated as she faced the boy with the knife.

“If you wouldn’t mind loaning that to me for just a minute, I need to go have a quick talk with my ex,” said Sakura, tilting her chin at the knife. “You can have it back after, just wipe my prints off it, ya know. Sound good?”

Looking between her and his friend on the phone, the boy’s face crumpled in confusion.

“I, I don’t… I don’t know—”

It was the opportunity Sakura had been waiting for. Her fist smashed into his nose, downing him with a single blow. She seized the knife and began sawing madly at his ropes, one eye on him, the other on the line under her hands.

“Everything okay, Doctor Haruno?” called one of the evac team members as he approached.

“Keep your eyes on this one, he’s reluctant to make it to safety,” grumbled Sakura, ripping at the line with her knife. “Go get his friend, too. Start his escort. This is gonna take me a few minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am. Rei? Go help cut the Doc’s lines.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Beside her, another evac member immediately began sawing at the line Sakura herself was tethered to.

“Thank you,” said Sakura, working away at the sucker-punched young man’s rope.

“Anytime. Will you require anything further for evac?”
“Just a thick blanket once we’re in the air.”

“Uh, Mr Kakashi says he volunteers to be a human blanket to warm you from the… sir, no, I’m not saying that… No… No, sir, I assist at Sunday School and Bible Camp, I cannot repeat things like that…”

For just a second, Sakura and Rei looked at each other, before Rei burst out laughing and Sakura’s shoulders sagged.

“We were terrible together,” lamented Sakura.

“He’s just playing around,” said Rei.  

At that moment, the ground beneath them shook; and continued shaking. The colour leached from Rei’s face as Sakura pressed her lips together and desperately sawed at the stubborn rope, her eyes fierce and hot.

“Hold this line tight for me,” ordered Sakura, shoving part of it at Rei.

“But Kakashi said—”

“Do it now! Once he’s loose, I can get out of this harness in a snap. This idiot needs help, though!”

The edges of the platform began to erode away; behind Sakura and Rei, the other members of the evac team shouted at them to hurry up. The rumbling beneath their feet increased, and Sakura saw several meters of earth fall away from their left.

“Shitshitshit—finally!”

The ‘idiot’ boy’s rope snapped and Sakura shoved Rei at him.

“Get him ready to go! He’s disoriented, he’s going to need two of you!”

“I’ll be right back for you,” promised Rei, squeezing Sakura’s shoulder. He rushed to the still stunned young man and began suiting him up in a fresh harness so the helicopter crane could lift him out.

Nodding absently, Sakura mercilessly attacked her own ropes with her knife.

But Sakura’s adrenaline had been pumping for too long. Her fingers were clumsy, her bloody hands and arms ached, she could barely make out what anyone around her said. 

“Focus, Sakura, you can do this,” she muttered to herself through clenched teeth. “You’ve been in scarier surgeries than this. You can cut a damn rope—agh!”

Suddenly, half the outcropping to the right of her collapsed, the evacuation team and their charges leaping to safety just in time. There was barely time to catch their breath before the rest of their outcropping dropped half a dozen meters without warning.

The sudden yank around her middle snapped the air from Sakura’s lungs and she yelped. Instinctively she grabbed her remaining line as the ground beneath her feet gave way.

Horrified, she looked over her shoulder to see what had happened to the rest of the team.

To her relief, they dangled and swayed in their harnesses; shaken but unharmed.

With all the noise and darkness, Sakura couldn’t make out what they were calling to her, though. Rei must have understood, for he signalled to her that they were heading up first. Sakura nodded, clinging to the rope she had so desperately been sawing at half a breath before.

Her legs bumped against the rock face, and Sakura breathed deeply, trying to force her panic down. With as smooth a movement as she could manage, she planted her feet against the cliff, slowing her moving and steadying herself. Then she glanced up and caught sight of the rope she had been sawing through. It was badly frayed and deteriorating by the second.

Sakura licked her lips.

Okay. 

She tucked her knife—somehow she had managed to hold onto it through the collapse—into its sheath at her waist. Then, she reached up and began to climb as gracefully as she could manage. 

“I just need to make it past the cut, re-secure the harness and wait for Kakashi,” Sakura said to herself calmly. “I just need to make it that far. That’s it. Then the evac team can help. That’s just a few meters. Just… like…”

At least twenty meters. In the rain and sleet. With injured hands. And a bad rope.

With a shuddery breath, Sakura lifted one hand and began to climb.

“That’s it. Focus on what’s in front of you, Sakura,” she said to herself. “Just focus on what you can do. The others are safe. You got this.”

A gentle, warm updraft caressed her cheeks and shoulders, blowing against her soaked hair.

Sakura smiled grimly. “Thank you,” she whispered to Tobirama.

Climb, he ordered tersely.

It was a grim and gruelling ordeal. Every step had to be planned. Sakura knew she couldn’t risk her foot slipping or any sudden tugging on the damaged rope. A foot at a time, she closed in on her initial target.

“One more step. Then one more step. Then one more step,” she panted, her eyes on the knot where she had connected the hikers’ rope to her own. If she made it that far, she knew she was safe, at least until the evac team…

The evacuation team…where were they?

No! Don’t get distracted!

Sakura swallowed.

They hadn’t abandoned her. Kakashi would never abandon her. Stiff her on the bill a hundred times over, yes; but he wouldn’t leave her. Not like this. Rei must have told him her line was weak. He was probably waiting for her to make it just high enough to be steady before sending anyone else down. 

Sakura’s throat tightened as her numb hands shook on the line. She was so insanely tired.

No! Just make it to the safe-point!

“I’m going to soak in the hot springs tub for hours when this is done,” Sakura muttered to herself. “And give myself a nice face mask. And manicure whatever’s left of my nails. And condition my hair. And eat take-out and chocolate cake and—nngh!”

The rope slipped in her hands and Sakura swallowed her scream and her hands slid and the rope burned through her gloves, tearing open her palm further. With her belaying setup, she was taking up the slack as gradually as she could, so she wouldn’t fall far—but any sudden movement risked snapping the weak spot in the rope.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—” chanted Sakura, resting her head against the slick rock face. Her hands were flayed, she was chilled to the bone, and she was exhausted. She just needed a moment to rest.

Move, Sakura, ordered Tobirama angrily.

“I’m going! Just a few more feet,” she told herself. “You can do this. You can absolutely do this…”

Through sheer force of will, Sakura passed the frayed and weakened point in the hikers’ rope. She climbed higher until she made it to the point where she had knotted their rope to her original one. She climbed just a bit higher to ensure that she would have enough slack to create a new loop to secure her harness to.

And that was when her hands stopped working.

“No,” whispered Sakura. 

She tried to open and close her fingers, but her hands were numb. Tying a knot would mean using her teeth at that point.

Her chest heaving, she looked up at the more than hundred and fifty feet she still had to go just to reach the ridge from which she had climbed down. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against her hands as they clutched the rope as best they could.

Sakura, urged Tobirama.

“Just give me a minute,” begged Sakura.

“You sure you don’t want a hand?” 

Startled, Sakura glanced to her left, only to come face to face with a familiar eye-crease grin.

“Kakashi?”

“Can you hold on while I set the harness up around you?”

Sakura nodded.

“Good. I promise to be a gentleman.”

“You were never a gentleman,” deadpanned Sakura.
Kakashi chuckled. “That’s what you liked about me.”

How unfortunate was it that that was true? 

“I hurt my hands,” said Sakura.

“Good thing I have two!”

It was a ridiculous joke, but Sakura’s laugh hiccuped out of her. 

Is he safe?

Sakura smiled and nodded.

“Yes,” she answered Tobirama. “For this, yes.”

With efficient movements, Kakashi strapped a recovery harness around Sakura, then strapped her to his chest with her arms around his shoulders. 

“You can relax now. I’m just removing your belay harness from the line,” explained Kakashi.

Sakura nodded, exhausted.

“So, you busy tomorrow night?” he asked, unclipping her line.

A sudden gust of wind sent them careening across the rock face, causing Sakura to gasp as she gripped Kakashi tightly.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time,” choked Sakura.

“Fair,” said Kakashi.

A few minutes later they were reeled up into the helicopter. Kakashi wrapped a blanket around Sakura and strapped her into the seat beside his. She was unconscious within minutes.

*****

TBC