In the late August heat was the sun in brutal contest with the scarce smattering of shade of stretching shadows that colored the coming twilight. Vibrant clouds weighed with heavy saturation of the horizon, cloaks of violet, orange, and titian draped over a setting sun. The cicadas’ song was nearing its finale as the sounds of a noisy village were winding down for the day, people dispersed from the streets to join their loved ones at home, dinner proving a clear pathway for Haruno Sakura to walk without stares and scandalized gossip. She thought she’d be used to it, especially after the public unveiling of the truth behind the Uchiha Massacre, but sympathies were superficial and Sasuke’s virulent betrayal still hung heavily over them.
It was nicer this way, especially when there were lulls in her work with the ICIU and the mental health clinic. Jounin or no, the bestowal felt like an empty accomplishment that did weigh as pleasantly as it should’ve. But, she was fine being alone; as had her parents, her best friend, and Katsuyu. She was growing more adept and powerful every day, so why fret over the chapter in her life that was coming to a close?
The sweet scent of dango lured here, it having been ages since Sakura had partaken in any. Deciding to risk whatever cold shoulder the proprietor would give her, she ventured in, surprised to see a familiar face that she hadn’t seen in almost a decade.
“Oh, Mitarashi-san. It’s been too long; how have you been?”
