Tsunade's inauguration ceremony was held beneath a boundless, cloudless sky, sunlight pouring down in golden sheets over the village like a blessing. The air shimmered faintly with heat, the faint scent of dust and fresh plaster rising from rooftops still recovering from invasion. Konoha stood gathered below the tower in reverent silence, a hush not of fear, but of awe. Even the birds seemed to hold their breath as the Fifth Hokage ascended the broad stone steps with deliberate grace. Her expression was sharp, eyes narrowed slightly beneath her bangs, but calm, unshaken. She didn't smile. She didn't wave. Her every step radiated authority, the kind not earned by politics or ceremony, but by surviving. By bleeding and returning and still choosing to protect. For all her reluctance, she wore the mantle of protector well. When the Kage hat was placed on her head, a hush swept the crowd like wind through wheat. It wasn't loud. It wasn't celebratory. But something shifted. A ripple of change passed through Konoha, deep and quiet. The kind of shift that didn't come from words, but from presence. A collective breath exhaled. Not because danger had disappeared, but because the village knew now that someone would stand between them and what came next. The era of waiting for salvation had ended.

Sakura stood on the rooftop of a nearby building, her arms folded loosely, the sun warming her shoulders. The stone beneath her sandals radiated the heat of the day, and the wind played with the ends of her hair, lifting stray strands like petals on the verge of bloom. She didn't move. Didn't need to. Her gaze remained fixed on the tower, on the white robes now fluttering behind Tsunade's shoulders like wings in the wind. The crowd below began to stir again, voices murmuring, people moving, but Sakura remained still, anchored in something quiet and certain.'She's here. Finally.' There was no urgency burning in her limbs. No desperate rush to seize the moment. Tsunade would be focused entirely on Lee now, her mind, her chakra, her hands, and Sakura knew better than to interrupt that. So she waited. Not out of hesitation. Not out of doubt. But as a gesture of respect. 'She's not just a healer. She's a legend. The best one at that. She'll come to me when it's time.' and when she did, Sakura would be ready.

That evening, there was a knock at her door, three quick raps, uneven but familiar. Sakura opened it, the last light of sunset casting soft orange across her floor, and there stood Naruto, grinning as always, hands tucked behind his head in that carefree, boyish way. The tips of his hair were still wind-tossed, and there was a faint smudge of ash on his cheek. Sasuke lingered just behind him, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. He wasn't looking directly at her, more toward the alley to her left, like he wasn't entirely sure why he'd come, but had shown up anyway.

"Ramen?" Naruto asked, his grin widening. "My treat! Well... kind of. Iruka-sensei said he'd cover it if we stopped setting the training dummies on fire." Sasuke snorted, quiet, dry, but definitely amused.

Sakura blinked, surprised at first, then smiled as warmth stirred in her chest. "Only if we go to Ichiraku. And you're paying for extra bamboo shoots."

Naruto mock-gasped. "Extortion! On my humble bowl of ramen?!" She laughed, slipping her sandals on, the floor cool under her feet as she stepped out and let the door fall shut behind her. The evening air was crisp, touched with the scent of simmering broth and scorched earth from a distant training field. The sun dipped low behind the rooftops, casting long shadows down the narrow street, the last slant of light catching the edge of Sasuke's jaw. Their footsteps echoed softly as they walked, first quiet, a little stilted, the sound of sandals against stone like a song restarting after too long a pause. 'We're different now. All of us. Older. Wiser. Scarred in ways we don't say out loud.' But still, they walked side by side. By the time they reached Ichiraku, and the familiar curtain lifted with a soft flutter of fabric, something in the air had shifted. The old wooden counter still creaked in the same place when they sat. The smell of miso, pork, and garlic clung to the air like memory. Ayame greeted them with a bright smile, and the sound of bubbling broth behind the counter welcomed them like home. Naruto was halfway through his third bowl, mouth full and talking anyway, waving his chopsticks like punctuation marks.

Sasuke made a face. "You have no table manners."

Naruto smirked through a mouthful of noodles. "That's rich coming from you, Mr. Brooding Silence." Sakura laughed, her elbow resting on the counter, fingers wrapped around a warm bowl that steamed against the chill of the night. 'It feels like before. Before the curse mark. Before the goddess in my dreams. Before Naruto met Jiraiya. Before everything changed.' It wasn't that those things had disappeared, they hadn't. They never would. But here, in this tiny ramen shop, in the flicker of yellow lantern light and the familiar click of chopsticks against ceramic, it felt like something had been restored. Something soft. Something simple. 'Even ninjas need nights like this.' And tonight, they were just three kids again, sharing ramen. Somewhere between mouthfuls of miso broth and Naruto's latest, wildly embellished story about wrestling a bear-sized frog in Jiraiya's training, he leaned over the counter, noodles dangling comically from his mouth. He swallowed quickly, then lowered his voice like he was about to share top-secret intel, his eyes darting suspiciously left and right.

"Okay, hear me out," he said, hands braced against the counter like a conspirator. "We have to find out what's under Kakashi-sensei's mask."

Sakura blinked at him, chopsticks mid-air. "Seriously?"

Naruto's expression turned deadly serious. "He's hiding something. I know it. It could be a huge scar. Or fangs. Or no mouth at all!" He mimed a hollow gape, waving his arms dramatically for emphasis. The old man behind the counter snorted into his ladle.

Sasuke, without even looking up from his broth, muttered flatly, "Or maybe he just likes messing with us because he knows we're all idiots."

Naruto shot him with a betrayed look. "You're no fun."

"Not trying to be," Sasuke replied without missing a beat, sipping from his tea.

Naruto turned to Sakura with wide, hopeful eyes, his lip jutting just a little for effect. "Come on, back me up here!" She opened her mouth to say no. She really did. But something about the absurdity of it, the familiar rhythm of Naruto's persistence, the way Sasuke barely pretended not to care, and the heat of the ramen still warming her fingers, cracked her resistance. Curiosity sparked against the calm in her chest, and before she could stop herself, she smiled.

"Alright," she said. "But only because I do want to know if he has vampire teeth."

Naruto fist-pumped so hard he nearly knocked over Sasuke's tea. "Yes! Operation: Unmask Kakashi begins now!"

"You're both ridiculous," Sasuke muttered, but his mouth twitched just slightly at the corner. Sakura rested her chin on her hand, a soft laugh escaping her lips as Naruto began mapping out strategies with too much enthusiasm and zero logic. 'This is what we were before the pain. Before the curses and the legends and the war drums in the distance. We were just kids, with too much energy and no common sense.' And for one evening, in a ramen shop lit by paper lanterns and warmth, Team 7 felt whole again.

Over the next few days, it became an obsession. What started as a joke over ramen quickly turned into a full-scale mission: Operation Unmask Kakashi. And like all things involving Naruto, it escalated far too quickly. They tried everything. First came the basic tracking. Sakura had scouted his regular routes, training field, bookstore, dango stand, but somehow, Kakashi had either altered his routine or anticipated theirs. Naruto swore he saw him duck into the alley by the flower shop, only to chase a shadow that turned out to be a stray cat with a bandana. Then came the baiting. They planted gossip traps, loud whispers about Lady Tsunade's secret sake stash, or Iruka's crush on the librarian. Kakashi never bit. Not even a flicker of curiosity. Sasuke called it beneath him. Naruto insisted Kakashi had to have an internal gossip radar.

They even tried disguises. Sakura crafted them herself, fairly convincing civilian outfits complete with hoods and cloaks. They'd stationed Naruto near the post office for surveillance, convinced they'd caught Kakashi heading in. They pounced. It wasn't Kakashi. It was a very startled merchant who shrieked, threw his mailbag, and ran, scattering letters like panicked birds. 'We are going to be banned from half the market at this rate.'

Another time, they rigged a series of tiny mirrors in the trees, attempting to reflect an overhead view of Kakashi's face while he napped on a bench. It backfired spectacularly. He disappeared mid-lunch, and when they returned to base, their equipment was rearranged into a perfect loop that dropped Naruto into his own snare pit. A note, written in crisp penmanship, was pinned to the nearest tree: "Good effort. Try harder."

Naruto screamed into the sky. "He's taunting us!"

Sasuke crossed his arms. "This is childish."

"You set the tripwire!" Sakura reminded him. He didn't deny it, and yet, despite every failure, they kept going. The game became a strange kind of glue between them, a ridiculous mission no one else could understand, but one that had them whispering under cover of dusk and sprinting over rooftops like kids again. 'We should be worrying about missions. About what comes next. But instead we're plotting ambushes like genin. And somehow, it's the most normal I've felt in months.' Even as they lost, again and again, Sakura couldn't stop smiling. Each misstep was another moment with them. Another piece of the old world stitched into the new one.

Their antics were briefly interrupted by a D-rank mission to help a farmer just outside the village. It was the kind of mission that smelled bad even on paper. By the time they arrived, the sun was already hot overhead, baking the fields in thick, humid waves of air, and the scent of manure was not merely present, it was oppressive. Overripe compost clung to everything: their sandals, their tools, their dignity.

Naruto gagged dramatically within the first ten minutes. "This is a crime. I'm a future Hokage. Not a dung-sifter!"

"Work faster and you'll be done sooner," Sasuke muttered, flinging a shovel of compost like it had personally offended him. Sakura had tied her hair up with a spare band, sleeves rolled, ankles caked in something she hoped wasn't sentient. She gritted her teeth and kept going. 'I survived Orochimaru's forest. I can survive this. But man does it stink horridly.' They were knee-deep in the worst of it, literally, when Sakura felt it. A sharp prickle along her skin. Not chakra, not loud, but off. A pressure just wrong enough to make her pause, eyes narrowing toward the trees beyond the edge of the field.

"Hold up," she said, standing slowly, spade still in hand.

Naruto looked up from his mountain of hay-straw and regret. "What is it?" Before she could answer, the bushes nearby rustled, not with wildlife, but movement too coordinated, too quiet. Three figures emerged, slinking low and quick. The Moya Triad. Small-time thugs. Sloppy chakra signatures, and a very long memory.

Sakura's eyes sharpened. "They're not here for us. They're looking for Kakashi."

Naruto raised a brow. "Again? Didn't he tie them to a cart and leave them outside the weapons shop like three years ago?"

Sasuke sighed. "Apparently, the humiliation didn't stick." But before any of them could move, a soft whistle floated through the air. Then, thud. Thud. Thud. A cloud of smoke burst above the bushes, and when it cleared, the Moya Triad was no longer a threat. They were tangled in rope, arms pinned, legs crossed, mouths gagged with their own belts, hanging slightly askew from a low-hanging tree branch. One of them twitched in mild protest. Pinned to the bark beside them was a familiar slip of paper, fluttering in the breeze.

"You'll get 'em next time."

Naruto cackled. "That man is a ghost."

Sasuke stared, unimpressed. "He used the same knots. The exact same ones." Sakura folded her arms, looking up at the helpless heap of thugs and the smug scrawl on the note. 'He knew they'd come. Probably the second they crossed the border. Of course he did.' She allowed herself the smallest smirk, even as the scent of compost wafted up again. 'We're neck-deep in manure and he's out here tying criminals to trees like it's Tuesday. Unbelievable.'

"Let's finish the mission," she muttered. "And someone grab that note. We're adding it to the collection."

By the time they trudged back to the village, sore, muddy, and starving, the sun had dipped low behind the distant hills, painting the sky in bruised purples and fading gold. Every step squelched in the damp earth, boots heavy with clinging mud. Their clothes were stained, faces smudged with dirt, and stomachs growled loud enough to drown out the evening birds. Naruto's patience finally snapped. Just beyond the village gates, he wheeled around to face Kakashi, eyes wide and desperate beneath the fading light.

"Come on, sensei," he demanded, voice cracking with equal parts frustration and hope, "just tell us what's under the mask already! Please?" Kakashi's single visible eye flicked toward Naruto, calm and unreadable, the silver iris catching the last rays of sun like a quiet storm. He held their gazes for a long moment, silent as the world slowed around them. Then, to their shock, he shrugged. The gesture was casual, almost indifferent, like the secret was nothing but a shadow passing through his thoughts. Sakura's heart thumped in her chest, a strange mix of relief and frustration tightening inside her ribs. 'After all this, after every wild plan, every failed trap, every ridiculous mission, I thought this was it. The moment everything would change. Maybe some mysteries are meant to stay locked behind a mask.' Her eyes flicked to Naruto, whose hopeful grin faltered but didn't disappear, and to Sasuke, whose quiet smirk said everything he refused to say aloud. The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy but somehow familiar. Kakashi remained silent, the enigma as intact as ever, but then...

"Alright," Kakashi said, voice calm but with a hint of mischief that sent a shiver down their spines. "But only once." For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. The chirping birds quieted as if even nature refused to interrupt the moment. The breeze, which had been teasing the edges of their clothes and tugging at stray hairs, slowed to a near halt, hanging heavy and expectant in the air. Kakashi raised his hands slowly, deliberately, and tugged at the edge of his mask. Their hearts pounded so loud they could almost hear the steady drum inside their chests, anticipation crackling between them like raw chakra ready to ignite.

Then, in one slow, impossible movement, Kakashi peeled the mask down, only to reveal another mask beneath it. For one perfect, crushing second, they stared in stunned silence, mouths open, eyes wide. Then, as if the universe had finally let them exhale, they collapsed in a dramatic chorus of despair, groans and sighs mingling with the rustling grass beneath them. Kakashi's chuckle floated softly from behind his endless layers of mystery, a sound maddeningly pleased, like a cat who'd just knocked the last vase off the shelf for fun.

Sakura lay back in the cool grass, the blades brushing against her cheek, her breath shaky with disbelief. "I hate him," she muttered, voice half-lost in the open sky.

Naruto groaned, rubbing his temples. "He did this on purpose." Sasuke just sighed, settling back and brushing dirt from his sleeves with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips, and yet, despite everything, the frustration, the endless teasing, the unyielding enigma, Sakura found herself smiling. 'This is peace. Strange, ridiculous, and somehow perfect.' For now, that was enough.

The next day dawned crisp and clear, the sky a brilliant canvas of pale blue unmarred by clouds. A gentle breeze drifted through the village streets, carrying the mingled scents of blooming cherry blossoms and freshly swept wood. Team 7 gathered at the Hokage's office, the usual clatter of footsteps and murmurs muted beneath the weight of unspoken anticipation. Kakashi was noticeably absent this time, his spot next to the trip left empty, a silent reminder that the day would mark a turning point. Inside, Tsunade sat behind her heavy oak desk, already buried beneath piles of scrolls and papers, her fingers deftly moving through medical charts and village reports even as the sun climbed higher. The room felt different with her presence, heavier, charged with a newfound gravity, as if the very heartbeat of Konoha had begun to pulse to a steadier, stronger rhythm.

Naruto, ever eager but awkward, blurted out a greeting, his voice breaking the stillness like a splash in a quiet pond. Sasuke stood by the window, arms crossed, his gaze distant and brooding, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of his face but never quite reaching his eyes. Sakura stepped forward then, her movements measured and calm, shaped by sleepless nights and mornings marked by bruises and determination. The weight of everything she'd endured pressed lightly against her shoulders, yet she held it with quiet strength. 'This is no longer just about training or missions. It's about who we are now, what we carry inside us, even when the world tries to break us.' Her heart beat steady beneath her ribs, matching the rhythm of the village outside, a rhythm she was ready to meet head-on. Tsunade's sharp eyes lifted from the scroll, lingering on Sakura for a moment that felt heavier than the words she was about to speak, not out of idle curiosity, but with the measured gaze of someone sizing up a fighter. Then her voice cut through the quiet room, steady and low.

"Your mission is to accompany a young man during a regional footrace in the Land of Tea," she said, unrolling the scroll with a crisp snap. "The race isn't just a contest of speed. It's tied to a bitter feud between the Wasabi and Wagarashi families. The winner will secure political favor and valuable commercial territory." She folded her hands on the desk, her gaze sweeping across them. "Your job is to ensure the runner finishes the race safely. No interference, no accidents, especially not from the rival family." Tsunade paused, her tone sharpening slightly. "I won't tell you his name now. You'll meet him at a tea house near the border. Keep your focus. This mission is simple on paper but dangerous in practice." Her eyes settled again on Sakura, steady and assessing. 'This won't be easy,' Sakura thought, feeling the weight of the task settle deep in her chest. 'But it's ours. And I'm ready.'

"This one's more than just a babysitting job," Tsunade warned, her voice low but firm, like the rumble of distant thunder just before a storm breaks. The sunlight filtering through the window caught the faint lines around her eyes, lines carved by years of battle and loss, and her gaze flicked sharply across the room, landing on Sakura. It wasn't a warning this time, but a quiet weighing, as if trying to measure what lay beneath the calm exterior. Sakura met the look without flinching, steady as the earth beneath their feet. 'She doesn't need to say it aloud. I already know this mission will test everything.' From the desk, Tsunade picked up a small, lacquered box and opened it with a soft click. Inside were neatly wrapped bundles of herbs and finely ground powders, medicine for emergencies, potent and rare. She held it out to Sakura without hesitation. "Take this. I don't know you well yet, but you'll need it. Keep it close. If things go south, this might be the difference between life and death." The weight of the medicine in Sakura's hands was heavier than it looked, but it grounded her. 'Trust from the Fifth Hokage. Even before she knows me fully.' Her fingers curled tightly around the box as Tsunade's eyes softened just a fraction. No more words were needed. 'I won't let her down.'

Later that afternoon, Team 7 arrived at the designated tea house perched just outside the rolling borders of the Land of Tea. The air was thick with the earthy scent of steeping leaves and faint smoke from a nearby hearth. The building itself was modest, weathered wooden beams framing wide-open doors that invited the soft hum of the countryside inside. But the stillness felt almost unnatural, a quiet so complete it pressed against their ears like a held breath. Inside, the warmth of simmering broth mingled with the faint clatter of utensils, but the space felt oddly empty, too empty for a place with steam curling lazily from the papered windows. Near the back, a boy sat alone at a rough-hewn wooden table, his spiky hair tousled in the afternoon light. He wore a careless grin, half-shielding a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a half-eaten bowl of noodles lay before him, steam rising in lazy spirals. As Team 7 stepped in, the boy looked up, his grin widening into a lopsided, shameless smirk.

"You're late," he said, gesturing lazily with his chopsticks as if they were an extension of his casual confidence. "I was starting to think they sent me amateurs." Sakura felt a flicker of surprise, tempered quickly by the steady beat of her heart. 'Not what I expected. But maybe that's a good thing.' She studied the boy, his relaxed posture, the spark in his eyes, and sensed a strength hidden beneath the easy charm. 'He might look like he's taking this lightly, but that grin doesn't fool me.' Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the strap of her bag, where Tsunade's medicine rested, a silent promise that they were ready for whatever came next.

Naruto bristled immediately, his finger jabbing the air like a challenge. "Excuse you, who even are you?" His voice was sharp, edged with the kind of fiery curiosity that never quite knew when to back down. Sasuke narrowed his eyes, the sharp line of his gaze cold and unreadable, but he said nothing, preferring silence to fuel the tension like a slow-burning ember. Sakura stayed just behind them, arms loosely crossed, her eyes steady and alert as they flicked over the boy sitting across from them. There was something almost too easy about his posture, a casualness that didn't quite fit with the weight of their mission. The stranger didn't answer Naruto's question. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, the wooden legs scraping softly against the worn floorboards. His gaze swept over Sakura like a slow-moving shadow, curious, calculating, and just a little unsettling. Naruto and Sasuke both tensed, muscles twitching as if expecting a sudden move, but Sakura met that gaze without blinking. 'He's testing us, probing for weakness or strength. Neither will do.' The faint scent of brewed tea and faint smoke from the hearth mingled with the tension in the air, thick enough to almost taste. 'I need to see what he's really made of before this race even begins.'

His smirk deepened like he enjoyed poking fires just to watch them catch. "You know, for a bodyguard detail, you're way cuter than I expected," he said, voice smooth with false charm. "What's your name?"

Naruto's hands shot up like sirens. "You don't have to answer him, Sakura-chan!"

"NARUTO," Sakura and Sasuke snapped in perfect unison, their glares cutting across him with surgical precision. Naruto flinched, mumbling something about being supportive, but fell mercifully quiet.

The boy's eyes slid back to Sakura, slow and deliberate, his gaze lazy and shameless like he was reading her off a menu. "Sakura, huh? What a beautiful name," he said with a grin that tried too hard and didn't try hard enough. "Fitting." Then he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees like they were already in the middle of a private conversation no one else had caught up to. "Let's talk about our future." Sakura blinked, caught mid-step by the sheer absurdity of the words. Her brows lifted, drawn somewhere between disbelief and discomfort. A soft flush crept up her cheeks before she could stop it, not from flattery, but sheer surprise. 'What even is this conversation? Who talks like this?' The scent of roasting tea leaves mingled with the warm wood of the tea house, grounding her just enough to recover. She exhaled slowly through her nose, spine straightening without a word. 'He thinks he can throw me off-balance with a line and a grin?' She stepped forward at last, crossing in front of Naruto and Sasuke. Her voice was calm, clear, and sharp as a polished blade.

"We're not here for small talk. We're here to get you to the finish line in one piece. Try not to get distracted." And though the boy only grinned wider, some part of him seemed to take the measure of her then, not just as a girl with a pretty name, but as someone who would not bend. She looked away quickly, clearing her throat as her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her eyes fixed on a faded mural painted on the far wall, something soft and forgettable, vines curling around a teacup, but she didn't see it. She just needed something that wasn't him to stare at. "We're here for a mission," she said, voice clipped, her tone sharp enough to cut the air. "Not a fantasy."

Naruto snorted from the corner, biting back a laugh he didn't even try to hide. "Burn." Sasuke rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall like the entire exchange was beneath him, which, to be fair, it kind of was. But the boy only laughed, light and unbothered, like her words had bounced right off. That grin stayed in place, as if being shut down had somehow encouraged him. Sakura didn't bother correcting him again. 'Let him talk. I've trained with Naruto. I know how to tune out persistent noise.' The stranger raised a hand and flagged down the waitress with a wink.

"Put this on their tab, sweetheart," he said cheerfully, pointing to Team 7's table as if the decision had already been made. "Thanks for lunch!" Sakura blinked, momentarily stunned by the gall. 'Did he seriously-' Before she could finish the thought, he was already sauntering toward the door, casual and confident, like the world itself existed for his amusement. The little bell above the door jingled as it swung shut behind him. The second he was out the door, Sakura exhaled sharply, jaw tight. 'This is going to be a very long mission.' The smell of tea still lingered in the air, warm and sweet, but to Sakura, it now had a bitter edge.

Naruto practically screamed, his voice echoing down the path like a siren, "He stuck us with the bill!" before bolting out the tea house like a shot. The door rattled on its hinges behind him. Sasuke gave a long, exasperated sigh, more breath than sound, then silently followed, his footsteps light but determined. His annoyance radiated in cold waves.

Sakura stood for a beat longer, eyes narrowing slightly as the last of the boy's laughter echoed from outside. She sighed, digging into her pouch and placing the required ryo on the table with two fingers, muttering a quiet, "I can't believe they stuck me with it... Sorry." The waitress blinked, stunned, as if unsure who she should be more offended at, her or the vanishing con artist. Outside, the afternoon sun filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the dirt path. Sakura moved after them at a steady pace, the soft thud of her sandals pressed into the earth with quiet resolve. Her chakra still felt weighted, deliberately so, her training wraps hidden beneath her sleeves and pant legs, each one layered with bandages lined with chakra metal, a quiet discipline that never left her bones. 'Let them run ahead. There's no need to show my hand this early.' Despite the weight, she kept close, her breathing easy, her pace controlled. Every stride landed with silent efficiency. They caught up just in time to see the boy, so smug and smooth only moments ago, trip over an exposed tree root and slam face-first into the dirt. There was a startled grunt, then silence as dust clouded the air around him.

Naruto doubled over with laughter, pointing mercilessly. "Pfft- he faceplanted! Karma!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes, arms folded. "Idiot." The boy groaned, lifting his head with a grunt, a line of dirt smeared across his cheek and his hair now sticking out at impossible angles.

"That didn't count," he muttered darkly, yanking at the ankle weights strapped beneath his pants with a frustrated curse. They hit the ground with a heavy thunk. Sakura's eyes flicked to the discarded weights, sturdy, heavier than they looked, marked with travel wear. Interesting. He sprang to his feet with surprising speed and shot into the trees again, leaves rustling behind him like a trail of mischief. Sakura watched him vanish through the branches. 'So he's been training too. Still doesn't make him less irritating.' She adjusted her own stance, feeling the press of her wraps against her limbs like quiet reminders. 'He may be able to outrun my idiot teammates, but not me... Not by a long shot.'

"I could outrun him," Sakura muttered under her breath, adjusting the strap of her bag as she strode beneath the golden light of early evening. "But I don't want to make it look too easy." The sun dipped low behind the hills, casting long shadows across the winding road as they reached the estate of Boss Jirōchō, a sprawling traditional compound nestled between sloping tea fields and thick groves of cedar. The air was tinged with the warm scent of sakura bark and incense, the late summer wind rustling through wind chimes hung at the entrance. The guards at the gate greeted them with formal bows, ushering them through polished wooden halls that gleamed beneath paper lanterns, their soft light flickering like distant stars. They were led into a traditional sitting room, the tatami mats pristine and the sliding doors etched with delicate cranes in flight. And there, already seated with one leg lazily folded and a ceramic tea cup in hand, was him. The same boy.

He lifted his cup in mock salute, steam curling upward like a taunt. "Took you long enough," he said, sipping calmly, utterly unbothered by their exhaustion or the dirt still clinging to their boots. "Welcome to the race." Naruto let out a barely muffled groan and muttered something under his breath that Tsunade definitely wouldn't have approved of. Sasuke didn't say a word, but his jaw flexed once, tight. Sakura stood still, her gaze level, the soft rustle of her sleeves brushing against her sides as she folded her arms. She didn't speak, but something had shifted in her posture. A subtle pull of her shoulders, a narrowing of her eyes. A thread of restraint drawing tight. 'He's not just a flirt. There's something else. Something deeper under the charm.' The tea in the air now smelled less calming and more like a cover. Something warm hiding something sharp. 'He's hiding more than just his name.' The boy, Idate, though he still hadn't said it aloud, never let up. Every hour brought another attempt. Another half-baked compliment. Another swaggering comment tossed Sakura's way with that same cocky grin and glittering eyes that didn't quite match the lazy attitude.

"You know," he said once while adjusting the laces on his sandals, "if I win this thing, maybe I'll take you out to dinner. Something nice. You like tempura?"

Sakura didn't even blink. "I like quiet." Naruto wheezed a laugh. Sasuke smirked. Idate only grinned wider. 'If he thinks I'm going to be the one distracted on this mission, he's sorely mistaken.' She turned her gaze to the window, where the sun had nearly vanished behind the tea fields. 'He's hiding something. And when it surfaces, we'll be ready.'

"You've got to be the most beautiful kunoichi I've ever seen," Idate said, hands laced behind his head as he strolled beside her with infuriating ease. His eyes slid her way, shameless, like he was browsing the menu at a dango stand. "Bet your chakra smells like sakura blossoms too." Sakura exhaled sharply through her nose and kept walking, her arms folded tightly, jaw tight enough to ache. The dirt path crunched beneath her sandals as they descended into a quiet valley flanked by green hills and drifting mist. The breeze stirred loose strands of her hair, carrying the earthy scent of wet stone and distant leaves, not blossoms. 'Keep walking. Don't even give him the satisfaction of a glare.' He didn't slow down. Not even a pause to see if the line had landed. "Tell you what," he continued, that maddening grin still plastered across his face, "after the race, how about we grab some tea and talk about how many kids we'll have?"

Naruto gagged audibly from behind them, making a face like he'd just swallowed vinegar. "She's not into you, dude."

Sasuke scoffed lowly under his breath, the sound thin and sharp like the scrape of steel. "Annoying." Sakura didn't respond. Her fingers flexed once, just enough to remind herself that she could punch him into a tree if she really wanted to, but didn't. Her chakra remained steady beneath her skin, still wrapped under weighted bandages, still held in check by her will alone. 'Every minute I waste being annoyed is a minute I'm not focused. He's a distraction. Nothing more.' And yet, something about him gnawed at the back of her mind, not the flirtation, not the swagger, but the cracks she kept catching at the edges. The way his eyes didn't always match his words. The way his voice faltered a half-beat between confidence and something else. 'He's hiding something behind that grin. And I'm going to find out what.' So she kept walking, letting the wind carry his nonsense away, her silence more piercing than any retort.