“No medic ninja shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon."
Sakura never thought she would end up following that rule.
Sakura woke up covered in blood.
Except Sakura had been killed last night – ambushed – and that meant she wasn’t supposed to wake up.
But Sakura was an expert at death and its aftermath by now, and so she did what she always did after taking a lethal injury: took stock of her body.
With a shaking arm (why does it look so odd?) she did a basic medical check. The results made her head spin, and she studied the room around her to confirm she wasn’t in a genjutsu.
Bathroom. White tile, small shower, lots of lotions stacked around. The floor was tacky with dried blood. The sink only had one toothbrush and two orange pill bottles. The air was dank and stale, but realistic considering the state of her injuries. She could hear the faint sounds of Konoha foot traffic and general chaos outside her door. She licked her upper lips and tasted salt – sweat or tears? There was a dull knife lying on the floor beside her.
It was too detailed to be fake, but that didn’t change the fact that her body wasn’t her own. Because this body’s only wounds were two deep cuts on the wrist, not usually consistent with a ROOT assassination, and her chakra levels were those of a child. Or an eleven-year-old genin with a below-average chakra pool but excellent control.
She grabbed the porcelain sink above her head and hoisted herself up with a bloody grip. She was incredibly lightheaded, probably from the blood loss, and it reminded her to seal up the cuts on her wrist. It wasn’t a difficult procedure, but it drained her. She ignored that in favor of studying the mirror.
She saw Sakura. Not her, but Sakura, the Sakura that she used to dream of as a child. This Sakura had long, beautiful pink hair. Her makeup was immaculate, though she could see black bags under her eyes. Her brows were tweaked, eyelashes elongated, and her ears were covered in golden, dangling jewelry. Her forehead was as large as a billboard and
She shouted “Kai!” multiple times to no avail. Sakura poked at her forehead and sensed no pocket of chakra waiting for her. There was no storage of chakra anywhere in her body. She no longer had her seal.
She studied the bathroom once more to find a weapon and only found a woman’s razor. She dismantled it and hit the blades along her body. A cursory inspection of the pill bottles revealed medications for depression and insomnia. Sakura knew she had the same problems, but she had refused medication for them. Shinobi didn’t use medication.
Behind the mirror, she found Band-Aids, more razors, pads, and the like. No soldier pills, or sutures, or high-grade painkillers like usual. She closed the mirror before opening it again and looking at it critically. The dimensions were off when comparing the inside to the outside. She rapped the back of the cabinet and, as she expected, discovered a small cubby hole containing a single note.
“Laying low for now. Snakes have keen senses. Will wait for more news.”
She recognized it as her own handwriting, or a version of it. More flowery than she was used to. Also not encoded, which put her on edge.
Back in the mirror, she studied her clothes. A dress – red, short, and better for dancing than fighting. Her legs and arms had little to no muscle definition, and her only visible scars were the ones on her wrist.
It was the body of a civilian. A dead civilian, really, but Sakura wasn’t too worried about that part.
She took a step to the door when she heard the sound of paper crumpling. Lifting the bottom of her foot she found a small monitoring tag, the kind she would have used on her patients in the medical tents to watch them from afar. She was able to trace the chakra signature of the person on the other end to an area outside of building she was in, but she couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. Tags like these were mostly made to be a one-way street.
It wasn’t a hospital tag. She knew that. And she also knew that it would be very hard for her to have made those deep cuts herself with a blade that rusty. So Sakura hadn’t died, she had been killed. Fair enough, given the state of Konoha these days, but that didn’t explain her body or her chakra.
On top of that, there were few shinobi strong enough to stand a chance of killing her, and those who could wouldn’t stop at a few measly slices on the wrist and a tag. Sakura was nigh immortal these days. They should’ve gone for the head.
Except she wasn’t immortal without her seal and now half of her body’s supply of blood was lying useless on the bathroom floor. Whoever tagged her wasn’t right outside the door, which meant she had a small window of opportunity to find food.
She created a clone, or tried to, but her chakra and blood levels protested. Left with no other options, she simply tore the tag off (along with a few levels of skin) and dumped it in the sink.
Sakura masked what little chakra she had and poked her head out of the bathroom.
It looked like she was in a typical Konoha apartment. A civilian one, based on the fact she couldn’t pick up on any traps or seals. There were a few scattered pictures, mostly of Sakura when she was younger, sometimes with her family and one with Ino.
Except Sakura had burned all her photos and lived in standard shinobi housing. And her apartment was full of traps.
A stalker? Possible, but the pictures were all in frames and placed around the apartment naturally, no effigies or shrines in sight. There were medical textbooks on the shelves, floors, and counters. Looking through another doorway, she saw there were some on the only bed on the apartment.
The kitchen was small. There were unwashed dishes in the sink and a mug of tea – still steaming – on the countertop. Sakura used to love tea, she remembered, but coffee had been better for her thirty-six-hour work days. She drowned the tea in seconds and moved on, vowing to have more after securing the apartment.
She cautiously moved towards the window in the bedroom and looked out to see -
To see Konoha, but not. It was big, bigger than it should be. Civilians were laughing on the street, and it looked like there was a police force roaming around openly instead of skulking on rooftops and in alleyways.
The police force all had black hair.
Sakura burst out the window and scrambled to the rooftop of the building. She was conscious of the other end of her monitoring tag but now the need for information outweighed the danger of one lazy assassin. If she couldn’t trust the streets, she still had one thing to center her. The heart of Konoha. Hokage Rock.
Except Hokage Rock had four faces, ending on Minato, Naruto’s dead dad. No Tsunade, no Danzo. It was wrong. Was she in the past? It wouldn’t explain her body, however, or the recent appliances in her kitchen.
“Kai,” she shouted, but nothing changed. Could it have been the Sharingan? Danzo himself might have come to kill her but she doubted it - he was a coward, through and through. But there was no one left who had those eyes. The Uchiha were dead and burned.
She knew the Sharingan, though, knew it well. She would have seen the signs of its effects on her. So what else?
One of the Uchiha down below looked up, did a double take, and hopped to the roof in record time. Sakura had been totally exposed in her bloodstained outfit as she had gaped at the Hokage Rock. Amateur as always, Rat.
She didn’t recognize the Uchiha on her rooftop, no surprise, but the concern radiating off of him made her think that he knew her. He had the classic Uchiha looks, with some especially high cheekbones. He was expressive, uniquely so, and he flashed across the roof to study her arms and steady her as she swayed at his arrival. She hadn’t actually gotten to that food, had she?
She thought the care in his face was honest, as was the panic in his voice as he cried her name, so she decided to play the victim to find out more about him. She swooned in his arms, only half faked, and allowed him to carry her.
She tried recalling her childhood memories when she followed Sasuke around in loving worship. Didn’t he occasionally get picked up from the academy by a cousin with high cheekbones and a sunny disposition? He was young but already so talented, so fast. Older than Itachi, she remembered.
What was his name? Shino? No. Shinto?
They flew into the apartment through the open window and he lowered her onto her bed with a careful amount of slowness. The juxtaposition was confusing, but she wasn’t confused as her mysterious Uchiha was as he flitted through her rooms looking for bandages.
Shang? God, no.
“What happened, Sakura? Did you – did you try to heal? Is Orochimaru doing something to you in the hospital?” He was in the bathroom now, and probably had a clear view of all the blood. If he found the tracking tag, he didn’t have an outward reaction. That’s right – most Uchiha were either in the police force or in ANBU, right? So either way, her mysterious friend was trained.
Not good for her. What would he do once he discovered who she was – who she wasn’t? She was Sakura by most definitions, yes, but she doubted she could act out a role she didn’t understand in front of a trained shinobi.
He was in front of her in an instant, a reminder that he was more dangerous than she could likely handle with this body. He wiped down her arms in silence but stopped short at the healed cuts.
“Wait, Sakura what did you do-“
She slapped a hand over his mouth and at the same time he turned to the window. They both sensed the same thing:
Kabuto. Heading fast to her apartment. Probably the other end of her tracking tag. His chakra wasn’t as putrid or mutated as it had eventually become but she could still recognize it.
He was supposed to be dead - she clearly remembered killing him. But the Uchiha clan was also supposed to be dead and one of them was standing in her apartment so...
So she couldn’t dwell, just deal. She just had to deal with this. The Uchiha (Sora?) had already lept to his feet. “I need to-“
“Leave. I’ll distract him.” She tried to sound soft, calming. It came out in an old woman’s croak.
“Was he the one who-“ A kunai was already in his hand, but Sakura forced his wrist down. He looked surprised at the strength but put it away. Protective, apparently, but still smart.
She didn’t fancy their chances against Kabuto when she was half-dead and allied with an Uchiha she didn’t know. On top of that, Kabuto and her had the same annoying ability to get stabbed and get back up again, which meant any fight with him was a fight of endurance; she had no chance of lasting after losing all that blood. Besides, dueling to the death in the middle of Konoha wasn’t a great way to stay quiet and get her bearings. “I don’t remember, but I can deal with it.”
Well, she thought she could deal with it. She was hoping. Her ally gave a decisive nod, cloaked his chakra so completely she couldn’t sense him from two inches away, and disappeared.
Kabuto was climbing the stairs. Sakura raced to her closet and threw on the closest jacket she could find that wouldn’t put her at too much disadvantage in a fight. She went back to the bathroom and stuck the knife, what looked to be the only weapon in the apartment, to the inside of the jacket with chakra. If she needed it quickly it would be there. She closed the door behind her but the scent of blood lingered.
Taking stock, she had the knife and any medical textbooks on the ground, as well as her own two hands. Her Uchiha might be around, might not be, but she had no guarantee he would be on her side if she slipped. Niceness before knives, then.
She heard a knock and composed herself, throwing on a smile. The knock meant he was going for a guise of friendliness, his usual methods, and she would return it in kind. She opened it a crack, face held back enough to dodge any kunai or senbon thrown in. Kabuto looked worried and confused for a second before kindly smiling, hands thrown up in a classic sign of surrender.
She tried not to glare and sent out another pulse of chakra. She pinged a few shinobi on the ground, but no one she recognized.
Kabuto motioned to come in and she let him with a smile. He perused her dirty floor and sniffed at her shut bathroom door. His smile never faltered. “Ahh, Sakura-chan, I know things might be a bit awkward between us, but I hope there are no hard feelings! In time, I have no doubt you’ll be welcomed back to work.”
Work? Uchiha said something about the hospital, she remembered, and it would explain the medical texts lain haphazardly. But why was Kabuto comforting her about being let go? So, she was fired from a hospital that Kabuto and Orochimaru worked at?
She shook her head slowly. Whatever this was she, she couldn’t understand it. Too much was wrong. A genjutsu, or something even worse? The environment was fully realized, every detail as real as the next, and her head felt completely clear.
The only other explanation she could think of was an alternate universe. A world different from her own in too many ways. Like, for example, the attack of the Nine-Tails on the night of Naruto’s birth.
If that never happened, or it had been contained, it would explain Minato being Hokage instead of being dead, the village being full and clean, the Uchiha clan surviving. Danzo had orchestrated the massacre under Sarutobi’s nose, but it’s possible Minato was able to prevent the incident.
If Danzo was dead or neutered it would explain Kabuto’s presence as a hospital worker in Konoha, but she couldn’t rely on Danzo’s death anytime soon. Her enemies always had a way at coming back in the most inconvenient moments.
But if Minato was alive and Orochimaru was working for Konoha, that meant no Tsunade. Her shishou would have had no reason to return to the village. Sakura would have never had her teacher, would have never learned from the most talented Sannin.
So she was fired from the hospital, friends with a mysterious Uchiha, and writing hidden notes about snakes. Orochimaru?
And did her Uchiha find the note? More importantly: was he supposed to?
So, alternate world. At least she had a working theory, but she still didn’t know how to deal with Kabuto or Uchiha.
She was distracted by her thoughts when Kabuto mockingly knocked on her forehead. “It’s unlikely for you to be so heartbroken. Missing more than the hospital? Why don’t I take you out to lunch to cheer you up,” he teased. Was this how Kabuto acted when he was genuine? Because it was exactly the same as how he looked when he was lying his pasty little ass off and she hated it just as much.
“Look, Kabuto-san,” Was that what she called him? Safe enough, regardless. “I understand you’re trying to be kind-”
“Trust me, it’s really no hardship to take a pretty girl out to lunch, and my only motivation isn’t necessarily kindness.”
Sakura threw up in her mouth, just a little bit. She was ready to refuse again when Kabuto’s eyes sharpened on the wrists of her jacket and he took a small sniff. Medic-nin always knew the scent of blood, didn’t they?
“Look, Kabuto-san, if you insist I won’t say no again. Just let me get ready.” Sakura gave a fake giggle and retreated to the bedroom. She couldn’t find any more weapons so all she did was put on a solid pair of boots and brushed her hair a bit more. If all she had was a knife she would make it work, she just wouldn’t be happy about. She sprayed an outrageous amount of perfume around and hoped it was enough.
Kabuto was smirking when she opened her door - either because he could tell she was covering up the scent of blood or because she said yes to lunch. Either way, he was a creep and she wanted this to end quickly. The walk out of the apartment and then the building was silent, Kabuto walking slightly in front of her. It was curious that he didn’t perceive her as a threat but it worked out well. Every shinobi’s greatest weapon was the element of surprise.
Still no sign of her Uchiha.
The market outside of her apartment building was bustling, full of food stalls and children. Elders sat playing shogi, vendors shouted their wears, and color burst from every corner. Sakura couldn’t remember the last time Konoha had been alive like this.
For a moment she was lost, eleven again, happy enough to burst. She had so much love in her heart for her family, for her village, for Sasuke. She was thirteen again, abandoned but hanging on, knowing her life wasn’t over. Fifteen, stronger, a page in the Bingo Book, her mentor and her best friend by her side. Seventeen, in the ruins, Sasuke dead at her feet and Naruto shouting curses by her side. Eighteen, alone. Nineteen, dead.
Kabuto was silent as she stared at Konoha for what looked like the first time. She tried to reign it in, but she hadn’t seen a miracle like this since Naruto had died.
All the sights and sounds and smells were familiar. Fantastical. Impossible.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, sincere for what felt like the first time in years. It was beautiful. Kabuto stopped for a minute as well, turning to see what she was looking at but not looking at anything beyond the ordinary for him.
“You’ve lived here all your life, Sakura-chan,” he said. His voice was mild but she knew he was suspicious. She didn’t care.
“But have you ever taken the moment to appreciate it, Kabuto-san? Stopping can let you see things like never before.” She could smell dango in the air, hear small backyard fireworks going off in the alleyways.
This is why Sakura had never gone missing-nin. Konoha would always be special, her only love. The village could be dark and messy and destroyed but it would be hers.
Kabuto sighed faintly in her peripheral. “You do like making my life difficult, don’t you Sakura-chan?”
She turned at that, and in her peripheral she saw a flash of silver. She tracked the kunai’s progress only to see it lodge itself in the leg of an old man.
The elders who had been fussing over their game of shogi were now pointing at the victim, who was holding his leg and making pained noises. The weapon lodged in his thigh, perilously close to the femoral artery.
Just what was Kabuto’s plan here? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to let an innocent bystander die for the sake of one of his games.
He reached to take it out and she grabbed his wrist in a vice to stop him from being hasty. Her knees crashed into the road as she knelt, rough texture scraping the skin bared by her dress. So fucking impractical.
The old man, probably called Goro according to the surprised shouts of his friends, was obviously a civilian. His shaking arms and dropped cigarette spoke of a life relatively free of surprise kunai attacks, which would only making healing him that much harder. People unused to pain were equally unused to chakra healing, leading to plenty of struggle and frustration on all ends.
“Sir, if you pull that out right now you will bleed to death. Let me handle this.” Sakura lost track of Kabuto as the crowd surged around her. There was a cry for police and she felt the return of her Uchiha (she had to stop calling him that) as he started making space around her. With the extra room, she was able to focus on a diagnostic.
The kunai wasn’t poisoned and the cut wasn’t jagged or tearing anything internally. A slow pull should work, as clean as possible, and then a massive burst of chakra should staunch the bleeding with the jacket as support.
Goro was still panicked, however, wiggling back and forth. “Where’s a doctor? Are you a doctor?”
The bystanders offered no support, simply crowding around in a big circle and making vague exclamations of “Get a doctor!” or “Help him!”
There was a clap of thunder and the street went silent. Her Uchiha was standing on a table in a full police uniform. “This woman is a medical professional,” he shouted, “Please give her some room and some quiet.”
She gave him a thankful nod and he gave her a small smile back. Too intimate - who was he? She couldn’t focus on that now.
Sakura put on her best calming voice and started cutting at the clothes around the man’s wound. “Sir, please stay calm and still. I’m going to numb the nerves in your legs just a little so this won’t hurt a bit. My name is Sakura and I’m here to help.”
The familiar glow overtook her hands, drawing a gasp from the crowds around her. She carefully laid them on the man’s legs. He froze and then relaxed.
“Okay, I’m going to take the kunai out, and I need you to be absolutely still. Can you be still for me, Goro?” Sakura had taken to treating all her patients, whether they be civilians or even ANBU, like children when healing them. Most people became senseless when injured and it was really the only way to wrangle them. Some of them didn’t like being patronized to, but they found it hard to complain with their lives in her hands.
Inch by inch she dragged the weapon out. He was still, fingers trembling ever so slightly, but Sakura couldn’t notice at a time like this. One hand on the kunai, one hand on the leg, she healed the internal damage left behind from the weapon, avoiding the artery to the best of her ability.
The process took about two minutes in total, and by the end, the man was really no worse for wear. Kunai injuries were as common as a cold in Konoha and twice as easy to take care of. His pants would be difficult to clean, of course, but that’s what life was sometimes. A spider had crawled up her leg while she had been concentrating and she brushed it off. The street was a lot quieter now, had been close to silent during the healing.
Sakura sent out a pulse of chakra but she couldn’t sense Kabuto. Was he searching her apartment? Did she clean the blood?
Her Uchiha hopped down from the table and helped her up from the ground. He leaned in close, wary of the people around her. “Kabuto?”
“Most likely, but you won’t be able to prove it.”
“Of course not, why should my job be easy?” He chuckled and then gently picked up her hand, studying the blood that wasn’t hers for the first time today. “Good job, back there. You’re getting better at this.”
She flushed unexpectedly. She couldn’t help it, really, because it had been so long since she had been around people who cared for her. But this Uchiha cared for the Sakura who used to be her, not really her, and the thought made her rip her hand away.
The crowd suddenly pushed a little-redheaded boy to the front, a kunai pouch on his leg. The supposed culprit, then, or whoever Kabuto found easy to frame. She tossed the bloodied kunai at the boy and he managed to catch it with minimal fumbling.
“Please don’t tell me you’re tossing around kunai in the marketplace, Menma,” her Uchiha scolded lightly. The small bump to her shoulder let her know that he realized Memna was Kabuto’s fall guy, he just couldn’t publicly do anything about it.
“Well, maybe, but I totally didn’t throw it at that man, you know! I was throwing it at a spider to protect Hana-chan!” He exclaimed. A black-haired girl with white eyes burst through the crowd to hold Menma’s hand as she nodded in agreement, body shaking with the motion. All eyes were on the two of them.
Which was good, because Sakura was experiencing a bit of a crisis. All she saw was Naruto standing in front of her, refusing to be guilty for any prank he pulled. Naruto, always trying to protect someone, anyone. Naruto and Hinata, walking side by side trying to save the world. Hand in hand. Together until the end.
Red hair - Naruto’s mom had red hair, didn’t she? And if Minato was alive and kicking, it stood to reason she could still be alive as well. She could have had more kids than Naruto. Naruto could have a little brother, friends with Hanabi Hyuga, who practiced kunai throwing in the marketplace with the same foolish attitude.
Kyuubi's flaming ass, she couldn’t handle this. The scars on her wrists itched and she only had one knife on her. Her hands were covered in blood and had been since she got to this place. This Konoha was a nightmare even if it was leagues ahead of her own.
It was a nightmare because a shinobi’s greatest weapon was information and now Sakura was completely in the fucking dark.
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. She let Uchiha lead the farce of a little interrogation, letting the Hokage’s son away with a slap on a wrist. The crowd dispersed and Sakura was frozen.
Kabuto slid back through the crowd and gave her and the Uchiha a once-over. “Ah, Sakura-chan, you handled that pretty well! It’s amazing,” he grinned sleepily, hands waving. The crowd dispersed slowly, some helping the old man stand up and patting her on the back. The street would be back to normal in a few minutes, Sakura was sure.
He gave the Uchiha a smirk. “And protecting the streets as best as you can, Shisui. You’re doing well in your new job.”
Shisui. A recent policeman. Transferred from ANBU? Sasuke’s cousin. Her ally. She could work with this.
Now Sakura was sure Kabuto had disappeared to check her apartment. He would have found the blood in the bathroom, but the only real reason he would have thought to check is if he had known there would be blood in the first place.
So Kabuto had slit her fucking wrists then and tried to make it look like a suicide. That, or he arranged for it to happen. Fan-fucking-tastic. He realized she survived when ripped the seal off. He caused the kunai incident for a distraction, then, and to possibly test her healing abilities.
He wanted to know why she had survived the attempt, to see if she had done it herself. She knew how Kabuto thought after studying his journals and experiments, and he would have no qualms about killing a citizen just to see how advanced she was in using medical chakra.
Now she needed to know why he tried to kill her. She didn’t know much about the Sakura of this world, but she doubted she caused too many waves. She didn’t have the power to.
Something to do with the hospital, perhaps? Any place where Kabuto worked was sure to be full of shit, and if she had discovered something in the hospital it would explain why she got fired and then got murdered.
And if she was investigating the corruption from the inside, it would explain why she had a policeman buddy.
Kabuto could have also used her firing as a probable motivation for her “suicide.” All of Kabuto’s actions always had three motivations and twelve contingency plans, and she doubted that changed from her Konoha.
So, Kabuto was evil. Now she had information. Sakura could work with that too.
“Thanks, Kabuto-chan,” she squealed, “I learned from the very best.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the blood on her hands, wiping them on a napkin she plucked from the table. She didn’t look at the policeman by her side.
Kabuto’s smile only grew as Sakura fawned over him and she could feel her Uchi- Shisui tense beside her. Why did he have to be so obvious about it?
She didn’t have to feign her chakra exhaustion and begged off their lunch date in favor of a nap and a package of instant ramen. Kabuto offered to come back to her apartment and watch over her, disgustingly enough, but the reappearance of Menma and Hanabi stopped any further offers. Thank god for small, annoying little favors.
A tug on her elbow prompted her eyes downward to the Naruto look-alike, tears in his little blue eyes. Carbon copies of Naruto’s eyes, really, and it felt like another punch to the gut.
“That was so cool Sakura!” He was shouting, of course, but it was sweet. “You should come by the house again and prove to my big brother that you’re so much cooler than him! There’s no way he’s the best shinobi!” His nose wrinkled and Sakura giggled at the sibling rivalry. She wished her Naruto could have had a little brother.
She played nursemaid with the kids, patching up odd little abrasions and papercuts, long enough for Kabuto to realize she wasn’t going to her apartment with him. He gave a jaunty way to her and Shisui before heading off.
“Why don’t I escort you, miss? I don’t want you falling over and getting hurt.” His tone was light and Hanabi blushed. A heartbreaker Uchiha, just what she needed. Menma noticed his friend was being distracted from his antics and dragged his friend away, screaming something about a rematch at Shisui.
She chuckled under her breath. The Uzumaki would never love the Uchiha, apparently.
Shisui was also laughing as he so gallantly placed her elbow in his grip and walked her to her apartment. Both were still on alert for Kabuto, but either he had gotten extremely good at chakra masking or he had left.
Sakura, in the absence of anything other to do, starting to come up with a plan:
If the hospital was fucked then her first step would be to find Tsunade. After that, she could start on where this universe’s Danzo was and kill him. Then she would kill Akatsuki. Find Obito, find Orochimaru, find Madara, find Hanzo, find anyone who had ever hurt her family. Easy enough.
She would also dismember Kabuto, just for her own piece of mind.
A tug on her elbow prompted her eyes to Shisui, telling her to unlock her door. She really must be tired if she hadn’t noticed.
She opened the door but Shisui stopped at the threshold. Careful, then. A good trait for a shinobi.
He grimaced before leaning in close. “Things are escalating. Stay away from the hospital for now. I’ll think of what to do next.” His breath was hot as it fanned against her cheek and his eyes were worried.
Sakura had to decide now whether or not to trust him. Sakura hadn’t trusted anyone since she had burned Kakashi’s body, so the answer should be obvious.
Except Sakura had died anyway. Had been murdered by her own village, even though she had been prepared, even though she hadn’t trusted anyone.
So Sakura took a breath, grabbed his hand, and thought about what Naruto would do if he were still alive.
“I have a plan, Shisui.”
He started, grip on her hand tensing.
“I’m going to find Tsunade.”
She just wouldn’t trust him with everything else.