growth

          Sakura is usually very quiet. It's a quirk she picked up from living in a once boisterous home. A certain quality that most observers have. One often exposed when they're loved ones are loud and chaotic. Happy. She stays back and watches, preferring to cement every happy memory within her mind before they disappear. Mostly because she loves them. Partly because she is selfish. Or maybe it's the other way around. Sakura isn't worried enough to figure that out though. She has other things to focus on. Like how Naruto is trying to nab her meat from the grill. Or how Sasuke is watching with the intent to steal it from Naruto before he can eat it. Or Kakashi's damnable genjutsu of a mask over his face that Sakura has never been able to break. The tips of her ears twitch. A familiar melody drifts into her ears. A call. She turns her head, tracking the origin. It's coming from the honden. Faint, enough so that Sakura knows she is not wanted immediately. But strong enough to know that the day is coming soon. Sakura herself can't fathom why the kami, if they truly exist, are calling her. But she owes it to her family to go once it's time.

Her chopsticks blur. Less than a second later both Sasuke and Naruto are yelping in pain. She plops her reward straight into her mouth and chews on the meat. Savouring the salty-roasted flavour, she lays two more slices of meat onto the grill. One in front of Naruto, and the other in front of Sasuke. The pair take a few seconds, but quickly get what she means. One for each of them. Sakura goes back to watching them bicker, letting the late afternoon breeze pull goosebumps from her skin. Kakashi sits next to her, the pair of them leaning against the same tree. Impulsively, Sakura reaches for his hand. Just to hold. A habit she practiced with her family. Like the kisses pressed against the crown of their heads; the bops of her finger on everyone's noses. Affectionate. Kakashi let's her. Sakura notices that for once, her sensei isn't wearing his usual gloves. She takes his hand into hers. It's larger than hers, with thicker digits and a palm that cradles her own hand with little difficulty. She studies the appendage, tracing her finger over every little scar and divot. Kakashi's skin is the journal of his life. She turns his hand over in hers, her thoughts flickering.

"We are tactile in our love. Vocal, and reminding. We desperately hope to never miss a chance to declare it." Kizashi had said to her once. When Sakura had noticed that everyone else did not perform the casual touches and traces that her family did. Considering the love she had found in her team, Sakura agrees. She never wants to lose a chance to let them know she loves them. Not explicitly of course. Not with words or declarations. Sakura isn't ready for that. But she can embrace them. Ruffle Naruto's hair and pack tomatoes for Sasuke. Secretly help Ayumi-baa-san cook up some *agedashi nasu at her stand for Kakashi. She traces Kakashi's heartlines down his palm and onto his wrist. Mindlessly, Sakura outlines seal patterns around the jōnin's wrist like a bracelet. It's ineffective without blood as a medium, but it reminds her to broach the topic with her team soon. To ask them if she can write seal chains into their skin to protect them. Sakura wonders how powerful the chains would be. Considering the fact that a Haruno hasn't gifted anyone in several years since she gave a chain to Ino. She's the only Haruno left besides. No one could have.

As the trees whisper with an ominous breeze, cool and refreshing despite that, Sakura prays that her cherished ones will be safe. Perhaps it is impertinent to pray only when she is in times of trouble, but praying in the good times did nothing to preserve them. And Sakura is a shinobi. There is always trouble afoot. Sakura traces one of Kakashi's scars once more before looking up to the sky. Kakashi doesn't take his hand back, content to let her keep it gently in her grasp. Sakura weaves their fingers together. His hand is warm. Reassuring. It engulfs hers in the way her father's hands used to. Sakura closes her eyes, opening them after a breath. Clouds drift across the sky, and Sakura breathes in deeply. Maybe it is impertinent. But still. She prays anyway.