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SAKURA pulled the edge of her scroll. The ends frayed like dried wheat. It had been nearly impossible for her to find an updated map—one at least legible and in simplified kanji. The dialect on the map - Iron dialect ironically enough - was aged a good fifty years and then after it was sent to Shikamaru for decoding, he had begged for a copy because none of which exist within Konoha, but Sakura had sold him a copy for a pretty ryo—she digresses.
Iron, the land of neutrality, had a world map that didn’t just include shinobi nations—no other nation, she had come across, had one.
“I had no idea the world was…so big,” Shisui stares at the atlas sitting across her desk and looks almost stumped when he turns to look at her. “I thought after Kiri…”
“I don’t think we ever went so far east before,” Sakura confesses after a moment, “Or south, past Wind at least.”
“Wars seem…small in comparison.”
“Inconsequential, really.”
Not when there were lands and lands of unexplored - to the shinobi on their continent - land, and oceans to be sailed.
Sakura had always wondered why Konoha focused on militaristic countries and sovereigns to focus on. Surely, there were other alternatives for resources and allies. Even if the said country had no military on par with those of shinobi countries. It was an oversight, a flaw in the delicate layering of the Fire government.
“Land of Forests?” Shisui doesn’t look at her when he glances at the boundaries of the map, “South of the Wind Channel and west of the Usagi Ocean.”
“It’s a start,” Sakura exhales and eyes the terrain, “We need lumber and lots of it. I’m not going to take any chances with running over the water; we’re going to need a boat.”
Shisui hums and grins at her—the sharp white gleam of his teeth is blinding in the dark of her office. “Leave it to me.”
.
Politics were a necessary evil.
Sakura knew that the moment she became the Hokage’s apprentice. The moment she relinquished her Konoha jurisdiction, but not her Leaf citizenship—the political power that came with it disappeared into the wind. She essentially became a shinobi - because a shinobi status could never be revoked - of a dead village. That meant trade agreements, shipping, wholesale, produce, resources—the ingredients needed to cultivate a village had been cut off.
She had no money, no prospects, and no written agreements—she had relationships and skills.
But Sakura knew more than anyone that she would be well sought out for her skills as a medical ninja. That was a fact, and she could exploit wealthy merchants and even wealthier daimyos to invest and fund the revival of her village.
What she didn’t know is that outside of having personal relationships with the inhabitants of Konoha and other neighboring nations—that they would never support the renewal of a village that had been wiped out due to the fear of the growth and power of the fuinjutsu shinobi that resided there.
Even Tsunade had held her ground when it came to the land that her ancestors lived on—died on.
Which was surprising enough, because Tsunade had nearly backed her on everything, but when the logistics came to it—it was because she was a Konoha ninja and had no power other than the relationships she cultivated throughout the years. If it was Naruto, son of the Fourth and the Nine-Tails container with distant Senju blood running through him—perhaps.
However, he was no Sakura.
But that was fine, Sakura thought quietly, she would start from the bottom up, and eventually, everything would come together.
And then the world will listen.
.
“Do I want to know how you got a boat?” Sakura asked amusedly, green eyes glinting warmly at the decorative pine forefront.
“Well,” Shisui’s eyes twinkle and let the heels of his boots—sea boots because proper attire for adventure and weather is an Uchiha trait. That and well, his Uchiha genes run true and through; a tragedy for an Uchiha of his caliber and face to walk outside of Konoha less than perfect and fashionable, “It’s quite simple, Lady Sakura.”
“Lady Sakura?” Sasuke, who stumbles from the back of the boat to the front, grumbles, “Is that what we’re calling her?”
“I prefer Sakura-hime,” Naruto laughs from the top of the deck.
“Part of Fugaku-oto’s healing regime is to de-stress and he decided to pick up boat-making. Wood makes him…happy. Isn’t it horrifying?” Shisui ignores the duo and continues, “Don’t look at me like that, Sakura. Those were your orders.”
“I didn’t expect him to follow it,” she snickers and shrugs, “But nevertheless, I am grateful.”
“He doesn’t know it’s gone, Itachi-nii distracted him,” Sasuke adds from the side and tosses her a package from the boat, “Change. As this is your first official transport—you have to look like you’re the acting leader of a historic village or—Daimyo.”
“Daimyos’ are civilians,” Sakura rolls her eyes and glances at the silk lining the package.
“Kaa-chan made it,” Sasuke says and disappears to the sail.
While Konoha, and nearly all of the shinobi villages and land disagreed most vehemently with her decision to raise a village from the dead—the bonds she has with her friends, family, and shinobi alike don’t vanish.
Mikoto and Fugaku support her and while they hold no true power outside of the village—their resources and connections mean more to her than anything.
It’s a deep blue kimono, made with spider silk and mulberry. Strong and durable but daring. It has two slits on the side, high on her thighs, her medical shorts are now fishnets, infused with mesh and kunai-reflecting fibers, and a cute light pink obi to hold the ocean material together. Appearances are powerful, but they can be deceiving. Sakura had to make sure that she was as powerful as she is gracious, as she is strong, and unyielding—as she is compassionate.
Which shouldn’t be too hard.
After all, she is a medic.
And feared at that.
.
“The Land of Forest is divided into four villages,” Sakura explains when they set sail, “The Capital city: Forest, Mount Fumiko, Aki District, and the Shirahama Coast. We are going straight to the capital and hopefully request an audience with the leader there.”
“What are you going to do if they say no?” Naruto asks.
“That is your job, Ambassador-san.”
Naruto grins.
The lines of power here become blurred. Naruto is still very much a part of Konoha, as is Sasuke and Shisui. Shisui is off the active ninja roster, so his presence is very much legal—much to Sakura’s ignorance, he is buying his time before he decides to release his right to be under Konoha’s jurisdiction, just like Sakura.
Tsunade could not say to Naruto—who can look the Nine-tails’ host in the eye and tell him no.
To counter the laws logistically and legally, the Godaime offered Naruto the position of Ambassador.
Which covers shinobi, civilian, and unidentified village territories.
“Are you allowed to be here, Sasuke?” Sakura asks after considering her teammates’ form.
“Clan law twenty-seven, Tou-san cleared it.” Sasuke shrugs.
“That’s the second time you used the smoke-screen law,” Shisui raises a thin brow.
It’s enough for the Kage’s council to hold suspicion. There had been hell when Sakura first announced that she is renouncing her claim from Konoha, which would not change her contributions, her legacy, and the effect it had on the world—that she acquired during her time in Konoha, but it removed her from Konoha’s affairs and revoked her access to the village—she would have to have a visiting pass.
The lines are more than blurry—they are undefined.
The smoke screen clan law that the Uchiha created during the Second’s reign, allowed them - the Uchiha clan - to pull their clansmen from the active shinobi roster without question. It also allowed them to keep that specific clansman out of active duty for an unspecified amount of time. It should’ve been outdated, Sakura considers evenly, hell, Tsunade should’ve made a move to have it removed from the interactive law.
But that’s not her problem.
Sasuke has his clan behind him and Sakura…
…Sakura eyes Shisui from the corner of her vision, his curls shine obscenely, and he looks more and more like a pirate with the leather in his jacket, leaning against the wooden post that holds the steering…
Shisui stares back at her and her throat tightens as she looks away—the quick change in motion is dizzying.
.
The Land of Forests builds its village and pathways the way the Iwa builds its roads—on the outskirts. The trek is long and tumulus, covered with vining and humidity thick enough to choke on. Vaguely, it reminds her of Mist in the spring, and that perhaps is not an accurate description considering that Mist is much, much colder, and yet her clothes have never been any less dry.
"Do you know how you're going to delegate?" Shisui asks her quietly when they stop for a water break.
"Well," Sakura starts and rubs the side of her cheek, "Judging from the elevation and the fact that the Land of Forest lies directly on the fault line, I can infer that the country has had its fair share of disasters. I can assume that within these disasters villages, towns, and cities have faced destruction both small and wide."
"That's telling," he snorts and eyes her sternly, "Are you sure you want to start with that?"
"I will, but most negotiations or contracts are mostly about trade—what can I offer Forest village for their lumber?" Sakura turns her head and looks at him directly in the face, "Me."
.
The Land of Forest is surprisingly a very young country. The Nindaime, Shirahama Asagi, is a man in his early thirties, unmarried, but surprisingly competent for his age. The military is small, smaller than she realized, but so is the economy—equivalent in size to the Land of Iron. A neutral country that thrives on isolation, but a pacifist who doesn't want to see war despite living in a very unstable country.
"Haruno-san," Shirahama-san hums and raises a thin blonde brow, "I have heard of you."
Sakura stares, "You have?"
Shisui shifts at the back of her.
"Tsuande-hime is the greatest medical ninja in the world," he retorts dryly, "It is only natural that the world knows her protege—her legacy."
There are too many things she can say to wave off the stigma, but instead, she tilts her head, "I wasn't aware that we had any interactions outside the northern continent."
"Mito Uzumaki was a...distant cousin to the ancestors of this area, her father was chief of the Inari distract, before he married into the Uzumaki clan, his grandnephew now holds his post," Shirahama-san replies slowly and then hums, "Most of those who inhabited Whirlpool were wanderers—people who left lands, islands, and countries to find a place that they could call home. Not to say that the Land of Forests is not our home—but years ago it was less developed and more isolated. Tell me, why do you want to restore Whirlpool—a city of ruins?"
"Konoha did Whirlpool a disservice," Sakura cuts in before Naruto could open his mouth and ruin her chances. He can deal with his possible, estranged, distant-distant, family relations later. "Despite Whirlpool being unincorporated organized territory belonging to Fire country, they were not taken seriously nor were they adequately protected—people died because of fear. As a medic I have seen things," she swallows, "Things that if I knew were happening, I would've done anything to stop them."
"Yet, you are a Konoha citizen."
"I am a Fire citizen, of course, and that will never be changed, but my allegiance is not to Konoha anymore, but to Whirlpool, and those who were deeply affected by the Great War."
Sakura doesn't want to tell him that she'll be a great leader, but Shirahama, if his sources were true, knew of Sakura's reputation, who her mentors were, who she learned from, what her positions in the military were—they knew of her achievements.
Much like Tsuande, as a public figure, her life is out and the open—it's impossible to blackmail her.
There's a lot of going back and forth—she can tell with the way Sasuke's foot taps against the back wall—especially with the way the Nindaime questions her. Most questions are with incredulity and then some with arrogance, like speaking to a child arriving from school. Others were more outlandish.
But Sakura has seen the worst and best of people, so she keeps her answers quick and calm, her face a steady mask, and when she leaves, she will root the trees up with her bare hands.
Yet, every answer she gives him has Shirahama looking more and more thoughtful.
.
"Free medical coverage for unlimited lumber," Sakura tells them when they set sail back to Whirlpool.
"How did you secure that?" Shisui asks with raised brows.
"World's greatest medical ninja?" she quirks a brow back in response.
He grins, "Humility looks right on you, Sakura."
Sakura rolls green eyes, but couldn't deny her smile, "Yeah, until the economy is built Forest citizens will have free medical coverage, and even after they will have a substantially large discount until there is something else to trade with."
"You're going to have to stop the dobe from visiting every time a representative arrives," Sasuke scowls and tosses her a few riceballs, "He wanted to kidnap one of his younger cousins—fourth cousin or something."
"That's rich coming from a clan kid. Don't you have a map of all your cousins and their importance?"
Shisui laughs.
They arrive back at Whirlpool.
.
"You don't have to stay," Sakura tells him that night, quietly, like the bare trees outside her small tent. "I know your clan wants you home."
"Konoha is home to many people," Shisui says and takes the sleeping bag near the entrance. "It was given to me, and my family is there, but...I think I found another home."
"A city of ruins?" she snorts dryly and turns her head.
"For now, not forever," he rolls his eyes and twists in his sheets until he's facing her—the fire a warm lick over his face, "But, I think I found a home to call mine."