CherryBlossom244

That was not the first thing that Hana noticed. She did not register the silence people kept talking about, neither the relief, or the grief. She noticed the strange way the sky looked unchanged, even after everything that had happened beneath it. There was no silence, the village was loud in a different way. It was not the blades, but the hammers striking, constructions and rebuilding. Voices now raised not in panic, but in silly arguments, and some in worries about housing and food.

She stepped over a crack in the road that hadn’t been there a week ago, caused by huge white branches that where everywhere around the village, adjusting her grip on the empty sack of rice against her hip. The ration line curved around the corner of what used to be a storefront only two days ago, now out of business, and used as storage room for the supplies. The owner was probably dead.

“…that's what I've been telling you since yesterday! They said he stood there and channeled his chakra to everyone like some short of God!”

“That’s Naruto for you! Always was a freak since he was a kid, but just a good type it seems. God protected us through him, we should be thankful either way.”

A woman laughed, sharp and bright with relief. Someone else chimed in, voice reverent now, almost hushed, she couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying. Someone was shouting from the end of the line, few paces behind her.

“They should build a huge statue right in the center of the village in his honor!”

Hana kept her hazel eyes forward, but stopped listening to conversations happening around her. She almost laughed. The way awe settled easily on people and changed their tune after badmouthing someone for years and making his upbringing hell was unsettling. Naruto Uzumaki’s name floated through the line again and again, wrapped in gratitude, pride, devotion that bordered on religious.

She thought that they are lucky that he is a pure soul, who will act as if he doesn’t remember how they were treating him only few years ago. She didn’t interrupt them though, and she didn’t correct anyone, there was no need to. She remembered too well how the same voices used to lower when they said his name full with poison, how parents used to tug their children closer when he passed as far away from him as possible. Cruelty had once been casual and communal, and everyone is acting like it never existed. It was maddening.

She shifted her weight feeling a pain settle on her hip due to a small injury she previously wasn't aware of. Behind her, someone muttered something less enthusiastic, and more like a whine.

“Still.. I don’t trust that Uchiha. How can they possibly forget everything that he has done? He was a criminal few days ago-”

The reply came quickly, stopping whatever the other person wanted to say next.

“Shush! Be careful! The new Hokage is backing him up, that should be enough of an answer. Us ordinary folks have nothing to do with it.”

Hana exhaled through her nose, rolled her eyes and stared at the chipped wood of the counter two meters ahead of her. She was in this line for the past hour, maybe more.

Naruto had been alone once, she has seen it, but there was nothing she could do, being an orphan herself, and a civilian at that. She wondered how people had forgotten their past actions so conveniently. Sasuke was now obviously the easier target. No one was interested in complicated truths of heroes who were on the wrong path due to unfortunate and tragic events, but still ended up doing good.

When it was finally her turn, she sighed and slid her ration card forward without a word or a glance to the woman before her. The clerk stamped it, barely looking up herself, and handed her a bag of rice with a tired and impatient nod. Hana adjusted the strap over her shoulder on her now full sack, and stepped out of line immediately scanning the street for someone who might need help carrying their own things.

No more than two steps and one breath later, she spotted an elderly man struggling near the corner, his crate full with supply bags listing dangerously to one side. She quickly crossed the distance and without even announcing herself took one handle and patiently waited until he noticed her.

“Thank you child” he said when he saw her, his eyes widening, breathless. “These things are heavier when you have a family of 6 to take care of.”

“It’s okay” she replied, adjusting her grip and giving him a small smile. “Just show me the way to your shelter.”

That earned a weak smile that turned into a fit of coughing. She walked slowly following his pace towards the temporary housing tents, before setting the crate down gently and stepping back. No gratitude speeches were offered from his family, not that she expected any. No wonder he was doing this by himself based on their characters. The poor guy thanked her and she simply nodded and went away.

° ° °

The village these days smelled like wet stone and antiseptic, layered with smoke from cooking fires that burned longer than they should have, for heat at night. Rebuilding had begun before anyone could agree on how it was supposed to look or work.

As she walked towards her own shelter, Hana’s gaze caught on a section of street cordoned off with broken wood and concrete. The shape of it tugged at something old and uncomfortable in her chest, and despite herself she slowed to a stop without realizing it.

It had been chaos there, once again, but 17 years ago. There were screams and dust, the ground giving way beneath her small feet as if the earth itself had decided to shatter. She had been younger then, thinner, frozen by fear and the sound of her own heartbeat in her little ears. She still remembers the pressure of a hand at her shoulder, firm and unyielding, probably her mother who was dying next to her. A screeching voice telling her to move, to run for her life, to not look at her father’s unmoving body or at the nine-tailed fox.

The next thing she remembers is a body moving her away from the only family she ever knew, and ever had, away from the rumble. She hadn’t seen his face then, only the fabric of a flak grey ANBU vest, the flash of silver hair, and the way the noise was moving away as she was out of the danger zone.

Later, much later, when she was in a room full of orphans, she had learned the name by accident from the whispering adults describing her circumstances.

Hatake Kakashi was the stranger's name.

She hadn’t seen him again for a long time, he had already been gone from her simple world.

And now she saw him across the street. Her savior once again, pulling her away from the memories that never stopped plaguing her.

He stood near the remains of a collapsed building, speaking with two shinobi Hana didn’t recognize. He wasn’t gesturing wildly or raising his voice and he didn’t need to. People have a habit to lean towards him without realizing it, like some short of a gravity pull. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually away in his pockets, but nothing about him looked careless or nonchalant. And the mask was still there. She laughed.

Of course it was.

Hana felt something stir, faint but mostly unwelcome, a feeling like an old bruise pressed by accident. She had been a teenager when she first started hearing stories about him, whispered half-myths traded in the orphanage late at night between girls about an impressive young man they never will cross paths with. She’d grown out of that phase, so she looked away sharply and continued on with a content smile on her face. Admiration was easy and convenient from a distance, that’s all she will get anyway.

After leaving the rice at her small makeshift shelter she visited the notice board outside the civil coordination office. It was crowded with paper, edges curling in the sun, full with mud and dirty fingertips. Requests, announcements, arguments, even gossips written in ink. Hana stopped to scan it quickly, eyes snagging on a simple line near the bottom written with big uneven letters.

CIVILIAN VOLUNTEERS NEEDED! - Logistics. Inventory. Ration distribution. Literacy required!

She hesitated for a fraction of a second and then stepped inside the coordination office. The building had once been a civilian school annex, but now it was an exercise in controlled disorder. Desks with children’s scribbles had been dragged into uneven rows, papers stacked in leaning towers, voices overlapping without rhythm. It was an organized chaos.

Someone was arguing near the back about delivery routes, someone else was crying quietly near the window mumbling about the unfairness of the bureaucracy. While taking in all of her surroundings a man with ink-stained fingers looked up as Hana approached the nearest desk, his desk.

“You here to complain or help?” he said with a scowl on his face, his glasses broken but still usable in a weird way.

“Depends.” she said finally looking at him instead of his glasses. “Which one do you need more?”

He snorted despite himself and shoved a clipboard toward her without giving her a second glance.

“Name. Age. Skills.”

Instead of writing them down and waiting for him to check them or ignore them for the next hour she simply answered.

“Hana. No surname. Twenty-four. I can read, write, and count.” She said crossing her arms and shifting her weight on her other leg wincing slightly in pain.

“Lucky us..” he murmured, scribbling. After a few seconds, remembering her presence he waved her toward an empty chair. “Start matching these names to ration cards and if something doesn’t add up, bring it to me, if it does add up, don’t fucking bother me.”

He gave her a quick last glance and continued his scribbling in a new menacing way. Sighing and giving a last look around the room, she picked up the first stack of papers, and got to work.

Of course, it didn’t take long to notice the gaps and the mistakes. There were deliveries marked complete that never arrived, ninja neighborhoods receiving double allocations while civilian ones were flagged as “pending” or “rejected” for no good reason. There were some contractor names repeating too often for it to be a simple coincidence. Her frown deepened while she pulled another sheet closer, cross-referenced dates.

“Excuse me..” she said finally, rising from her chair and looking at the grumbling man. “Why is the eastern sector listed as low priority? Half their housing is gone.”

The man glanced at the paper, then at her. “That decision’s already made. Also, not your business.”

“Made by who?” She frowns pressing for answers.

“Who else?” he grumpled without looking at her “People above us. Obviously.”

There was a pause. The paper in her had still hovering between them. He wasn’t going to say anything else.

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed as if he was keeping up with an idiot.

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

Hana pressed her lips together and forced herself back into her chair without another word. He obviously doesn’t care so there was no reason for her to get into an argument with him, so she kept working gathering the mistakes.

After a few hours of work she suggested to escort two elderly women that came for help inside the office to the medical station. She was tired but still decided to wait while their health was assessed.

That’s when she noticed the pink-haired medic and the blonde one with sharp blue eyes, both directing the staff with practiced efficiency despite their young appearance. They exchanged brief nods and tired smiles with Hana as they passed through.

° ° °

By the end of the next week the papers she was working on were no longer just messy, they were wrong. Hana gathered what she could, clipped the stack together, and stood. The man with ink-stained fingers whose name she still didn’t know looked up, already visibly tired of her.

“I need to submit an objection.” she said standing in front of him with confidence.

He rubbed his eyes and took a long breath.

“As I already said. Put it in the damn tray.”

“As I already said, I did, every day.” She said emphasizing the last two words.

“Then it’ll be reviewed.”

“When?”

“When they get to it. Don’t ask stupid questions”

Hana exhaled slowly ignoring his scowl and decidedly turned away to leave, since he will be of no help.

She heard that there was a meeting at the moment with some officials on the same floor, so in her head, the obvious decision was made. She took quick steps towards the hallway outside the meeting rooms which were carpeted and quieter, except the background shouts of the irritating man calling her to put the papers back in their place and not dare go inside. She knew he will not get up from his sacred seat either way.

Voices drifted through the heavy doors ahead and Tsunade’s voice carried easily, sharp and controlled. Hana’s eyes widened with realization, she hadn’t planned on going this far, but it was one in a million chance so she had to take it. Without giving it a second thought, she opened the door and crossed the threshold anyway.

The room fell suddenly silent as she stepped inside. Several heads turned, disapproval visibly registered quickly on the faces of the elders, and the civilian representatives, their gazes sharp. Tsunade seated in the middle of the room lifted an eyebrow in amusement. Kakashi, slightly back from the main table on her left looked up from his notes with a bored expression.

“I’m sorry.” Hana said, voice clear despite the sudden heat in her chest, especially after noticing his presence. “I was told my concerns would be reviewed later, but “later” doesn’t work while people are starving out there.”

One of the elders scoffed looking at her as if she was nothing more than an insect.

“This is not a civilian forum, girl.”

“I am aware.” Hana replied without a beat. “But you definitely should look at these.”

She placed the stack of papers on the nearest open space on the office table in front of Tsunade, who leaned forward scanning them. The room waited for her reaction. The criticizing eyes were burning her so she decided to fill the silence.

“This is about supply prioritization” Hana continued, words coming easier despite everything. “You’re diverting resources toward fortifications when trade routes are broken and agriculture hasn’t restarted. Everyone will starve before walls even matter.”

“That’s a speculation” an elder on her right snapped.

“No.” Hana said with almost a growl looking at him. “It’s facts. And math.”

A murmur rippled asTsunade’s mouth twitched in interest. Kakashi suddenly spoke then, voice even, almost bored.

“If the projections are accurate delaying civilian recovery increases long-term security risk, and survival of the whole village...”

Another elder turned sharply.

“Hatake!This is not-”

“Oh but it is” Kakashi replied casually readjusting his glove for no reason. “I already told you so yesterday during our visit to the northern civilian district. If she’s wrong dismiss it with the data she brought.” he shrugged.

Silence followed, thicker this time, and then he added in a cheerful voice, creasing his eyes in an obviously fake smile.

“But who am I to say. Careless as always.. Bad habit. My bad.” He gave a lazy shrug. “Still picking things up from Tsunade-sama, maybe the inauguration should be postponed afterall-”

Tsunade straightened and cleared her voice without letting him finish his sentence.

“Sit.” she told Hana. “You have five minutes to explain why you interrupted this meeting.”

Hana sat, back straight and took a breath. She spoke quickly, not because she was nervous, but because she had been holding this in since the day she saw the first mistakes. She did not plead, there was no need for that, she simply laid out routes, timelines and consequences. She trusted the Hokage to see what she is seeing, to do good. Civilians are responsible for agriculture. If the civilians are dying out, the food production wil stop, then even the shinobi will starve.

When she finally finished, no one said anything for a full minute. Then she simply stood up, bowed, and got out of there as fast as she could. There was nothing else she could do now.

Hana stepped back into the streets, shoulders heavy, pulse still loud in her ears and took the route back to her shelter, preferably her bed. She nervously adjusted the strap of her bag going through the busy crowd, aware of eyes on her back each time she bumped into someone, and painfully aware that she had crossed a line she isn’t allowed to cross. That’s when she finally realized it.

The war was truly over. But the rest it seemed, was just beginning.

--------------------------

She woke up before the sun had risen out of habit rather than discipline, the kind of a habit you inherit growing up in an orphanage when you had to learn not to be late for breakfast, unless you want to starve all morning. Getting out of her small tent she gingerly looked around her while stretching her back. Water was rationed in some blocks, but scarcely, so washing her face felt like a small luxury she had to skip this morning. Breakfast was whatever she could manage, and these days that meant stale bread, or a bruised fruit if she was lucky enough to find one, which she wasn't.

The streets were never quiet, not even this early in the morning, since reconstruction didn’t respect mornings and sleeping schedules. Someone was always hauling lumber or hammering boards arguing about where a wall used to be and where a wall should be. People wanted to get back to their normal daily lives as soon as possible. Some parts of the village had begun to look almost orderly again, the damage sanded down and hidden behind fresh beams and hurried plaster work. Other parts though still looked like the war had ended only few hours ago, with rubble piled against fences and broken homes.

She arrived at the temporary civil coordination office with her long dirty-blonde hair tied back and the sleeves of her long dress rolled up, looking as presentable as a person could be at times like these. The man with ink-stained fingers was surprisingly already there, hunched over a desk that used to belong to a girl named Himiko who apparently had an aggressive crush on a boy named Tanaka, judging by the scribbles on it. His glasses, as always, hung crookedly on his nose, the frame bent at the bridge that suggested it had survived so far purely out of stubbornness. He scribbled on a form without looking up, lips moving silently as if he was counting numbers.

Hana slid into her chair and pulled a stack of manifests toward her. The paper edges were rough from being handled too much, mostly by her, the corners folded and unfolded. She mechanically started matching names to ration cards, checking delivery logs against actual receipts and trying to make sense of the village’s chaos on paper. It was mind-numbing work that she was definitely in need of. A missing crate of supplies, a duplicated signature, an allocation that did not match population numbers. The errors weren’t dramatic enough to be criminal like the ones she saw few days ago and spoke up about, but they were consistent enough to be annoying.

Across the room people chatted under their breath, more engaged with each other than the papers in front of them.

“I’m telling you, it’s basically settled” one of the women said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, polished fingers drumming against the desk with each word she is saying. “Hatake Kakashi will be the Sixth Hokage.”

Across from her, another woman let out a low, impressed hum. “I mean.. If we’re going to be honest, it does makes sense.”

The third woman didn’t even look up from the papers she was sorting, but the mischievous smile tugging at her mouth gave her away. “Quiet. Tall. Scar. Mask. Trauma. That’s not a man that’s a whole damn checklist if you ask me.”

The man sitting with them scoffed loudly, pushing his chair back in annoyance. “You’re all insane. Do you even remember what people used to say about him? A Friendkiller? That even other shinobi didn’t like being alone in a room with that guy.”

“That was when he was younger” the first woman said breezily looking at her polished nails. “It’s called freaking character development.”

“B..but they say he is lethal!” the man insisted crossing his arms and trying to scare them off. “Like he’d look at you and you’d feel like you were already dead!”

The second woman tilted her head considering, and sighed wishfully. “See.. when you say it like that..you’re not helping your case at all.”

The third woman snorted and finally looked up, eyes bright with mischief again. “Also, they say shinobi men with a dangerous reputation tend to age like a fine wine.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the desk cluster between the three women.

“I am just curious about one thing” the first woman added thoughtfully widening her eyes. “Do you think they’ll finally show his face on the Hokage monument?”

“Oooh no, I want it with the mask on.” the second woman said almost immediately chuckling. “It would be cruel to take it off now, ruins the mystery!”

“Honestly..” the third chimed in, dropping her voice like she was about to say something she shouldn’t, “I’ve always wondered if he ever takes that thing off.”

Hana’s pen stopped moving.

The woman went on, unfazed. “I mean, at some point, right? There’s got to be a moment where the mask stops being… practical.” She wiggles her eybrows in a suggestive way to cross her point.

The second woman snorted quietly. “You’re assuming he lets it get that far.”

“Oh pleasee” the first said, grinning. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t be curious if it stays on? Even then?”

Hana stared very hard at the paper in front of her, heat creeping up her neck as she forced herself to stare at the numbers in front of her.

The man made a sound of pure disbelief and disgust. “You’re talking about the future Hokage.”

“And you’re talking like that’s a deterrent” the third woman replied easily. “If anything.. it raises the stakes.”

A burst of laughter followed again, unashamed and loud enough to earn them a warning glance from the ink guy across the room, who was also definitely overhearing their discussion.

“Oh relaaax.” the second woman said, waving him off. “You’re just jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

“You absolutely are” the first woman replied cheerfully. “If you had silver hair and half his reputation you’d be walking around like you owned this place.”

“And reading those ridiculous books in public” the third added with a grin and a meaning.

“That’s another thing!” the man said hopefully. “Who in their right mind does that? Right?”

“Someone confident.” she replied immediately. “And someone collecting interesting information. For educational purposes.”

Laughter broke out again, louder this time, before people slowly turned back to their work. Hana cleared her throat quietly and forced her pen to move again, resolutely focused on her paperwork while her ears still burned, the image of what they were insinuating still vivid despite her best efforts. Kakashi Hatake’s name usually drifted through among the civilians with a strange mix of awe and curiosity, stripped of blood and his dark history.

The front door opened and the room suddenly changed. Chairs stopped creaking, papers stopped rustling and even breathing seemed to soften. Curious but annoyed for her broken concentration once again, Hana looked up.

Only one figure stood in the doorway, still as death. The ANBU guard's mask was pale with dark markings that curved into a stylized animal face, managing to feel like it was watching you despite the black holes where eyes should be. The uniform was clean, a big contrast to the chaotic office and his posture didn’t slouch, standing like a statute on the front doorway.

The man with ink-stained fingers froze mid-scribble, eyes wide. He probably couldn’t decide whether to stand, bow, or pretend he wasn’t there. His glasses already on their last thread of dignity for the past few days, chose the perfect moment to finally give up. The frame snapped at the bridge with a tiny sound that somehow felt louder than any hammer outside. He stared down at the broken pieces and then looked at Hana as if she was the one who broke them. Hana who had not moved either, stared back at him as if she was offended on his behalf.

The ANBU didn’t acknowledge the exchange happening between them, and simply started talking. His voice was calm and impersonal, like he was reading a script at loud.

“Hana.”

She broke the eye contest with her colleague and stared at the ANBU man startled. She rose slowly and steady, even though her stomach had dropped hard at the sound of her name.

“You are requested at the Hokage Tower.”

Requested he said, and not ordered. She knew the choice of word was careful, but it still didn’t mean she had any choice in this.

The office around her had turned into a field of averted gazes toward her. Civilians always thought looking directly at ANBU invites bad luck, so everyone tried to make themselves look smaller. Hana realized he was waiting for her, so she gathered her papers with deliberate calm and set them aside.

“Understood.”

The ink-fingered man leaned toward her just enough to whisper without moving his lips, as if ANBU couldn’t hear him either way.

“Told you not to get into that damn meeting, now you owe me new glasses.”

Hana tilted her head slightly and hissed. “Shut up old man.”

He stared at her and then shoved the broken glasses into his pocket with a kind of resignation muttering about young irresponsible people, always getting into trouble. Hana’s mouth almost twitched. Almost. Then she followed the ANBU out.

The walk through the village with an ANBU at her side was certainly a one of a kind experience. People parted without being told and mothers pulled their children back by their sleeves so quickly that they stumbled. Two civilians unloading supplies paused mid-lift and waited for Hana to pass as if movement might offend her. No one asked Hana what was happening and no one made eye contact long enough to risk it. She kept her spine straight and her face neutral. The fact that she was a civilian made the sharp attention more intense when crossing shinobi district. ANBU escorts were normal for high class business, but an ANBU escorting a civilian was not an every day occurance.

The Hokage Tower district looked different from the rest of Konoha, and Hana had never been able to decide if the difference was comforting or infuriating. Closer to the Tower, the streets were swept more often and the debris had been cleared faster. Shinobi moved with purpose and even tiredness looked organized on them. Repairs here were more polished and fresh wood lined doorframes, even the smell was different, less smoke and sweat. Further away, in the civilian areas, rebuilding was louder and rougher. Repairs were only temporary patched with whatever could be found and roofs were covered with mismatched boards. People argued openly in the street because there were no private rooms left to argue in. Hana took in the contrast as they climbed the Tower steps but she didn’t comment. She stored it in the same quiet place where she kept everything else that made her angry.

The ANBU stopped outside the Hokage’s office and knocked once, sharp and controlled. Tsunade’s voice came through the door, heavy with authority.

“Send her in.”

The ANBU stepped aside. Hana gave him a quick glance, and entered alone.

Tsunade’s presence filled the room in a way that made Hana understand why the title “Hokage” had weight beyond simple politics. It was pure power in her presence alone. She was behind her desk standing with her hands braced on the wood of her desk. Her robe was off, draped over a nearby chair. Her eyes were sharp, tired and focused. When she looked at Hana, it felt like she could see through her.

“You.” Tsunade said slowly, voice flat in the way that made it impossible to tell whether she was amused or irritated or both.

Hana shut the door behind her, stood straight and politely bowed. “Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade’s gaze flicked over Hana’s posture.

“If I remember correctly.. ” Tsunade began, “you walked into an official meeting without permission.”

Hana held her ground. The least she could do was be confident about her actions, she wasn’t acting on selfish personal reason, she should not be ashamed. “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade didn’t bother sitting down. She paced instead, heels heavy against the floor. When she stopped it was abrupt, palms suddenly slamming flat against the desk hard enough to make the papers jump, and it certainly made Hana jump.

“Well you don’t get to do that.” she snapped. “You don’t walk into an official meeting and start talking like you own the damn room.”

Hana held herself still, jaw tight. “I know but-”

“No, you don’t!” Tsunade shot back immediately. “If you did, you wouldn’t have done that.” She straightened, arms crossing over her chest, eyes sharp and unforgiving. “That meeting wasn’t about fixing anything. It was about proving we had enough leverage to force the council’s hand without them turning it into another six-month delay.”

She reached over, yanked a folder off the desk, and tossed it down in front of Hana. Papers slid out slightly, dense with figures and notes. Hana didn’t dare move.

“We already knew the civilian districts were stretched thin.” Tsunade continued. “What we didn’t have was evidence they couldn’t ignore or bury under procedure and excuses.” Her finger jabbed down at the papers. “You are lucky those numbers you brought were exactly what we needed them to see.”

Hana frowned. “Then why-”

“Because” Tsunade cut in sharply “there are rules. Annoying ones. And whether I like them or not I don’t get to bulldoze through every problem even if I’m Hokage.” She scoffed. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Tsunade looked Hana over again, slower this time, like she was reassessing a tool she was planning on using.

“Even so..” she said without finishing her sentence.

Hana didn’t flinch. “People are going to starve if things stay like this, I had no choice.”

“Yes.” Tsunade said flatly. “And if we play this wrong they’ll starve later but with paperwork to justify it.”

She turned away, rubbing at her temple. “You forced the issue early. That pissed off a lot of people but at least it made it impossible for them to pretend the problem wasn’t urgent like they did before.”

Hana thought she caught a muttered old farts under her breath but didn't dare question it. Tsunade shot her a look over her shoulder.

“So congratulations, brat. You made yourself useful by being a pain in my ass.”

Hana opened her mouth, then closed it again. “If this is where you tell me never to do that again-” she tried.

“If I wanted to tell you that” Tsunade barked “you wouldn’t be standing here, but outside the village gates.”

She moved back behind the desk and grabbed another folder, thinner and newer. “You’re being assigned as a temporary head civilian representative.”

Hana blinked in shock. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Tsunade said, already flipping it open. “You’ll oversee distribution, organization, and civilian complaints. You’ll coordinate with all the civilian districts. You’ll report here, weekly.” She looked up, eyes narrowing. “And you will not barge into meetings like that again unless you want to see how fast I throw you out myself.”

Hana swallowed, making sure to remember that. “And if I make the wrong call?”

Tsunade snorted. “Then you fix it before it turns into my problem.”

Hana hesitated. “If I see something urgent, do I request a meeting?”

Tsunade studied her for a long second, then shrugged. “If it’s real, yes. If it’s bullshit, no.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Hana nodded, slow and steady. “Understood Hokage-sama, thank you.”

“Good.” Tsunade said. “Get out. I’ve got work to do. ”

Hana turned toward the door, pulse still racing, mind already running through the consequences of her actions. Just before she stepped out, she caught movement behind the desk. Tsunade crouched slightly glancing toward the door like she was checking for witnesses, then reached into a lower drawer and pulled out a small sake bottle. She straightened quickly when she noticed Hana still there watching her.

“What?” Tsunade snapped. “You think being Hokage means I quit drinking?”

Hana bit back a smile. “No, Hokage-sama.”

“Damn right.” Tsunade muttered already reaching for a cup. “Now go before I give you more work.”

Hana slipped out into the hallway the door closing behind her with a solid thud, her heart still beating too fast and her head buzzing with the realization that she had just been dragged into something she couldn’t walk away from anymore.

She took a step.

And nearly walked straight into Hatake Kakashi.

He stood just outside the office, one shoulder resting against the stone wall like it had always belonged to him, weight settled easily into one hip. An orange book lay open in his gloved hand, thumb tucked between pages, posture loose enough to look out of place in a building that was supposed to be full of authority. The jonin vest sat comfortably on him, worn but well-kept. His hair stuck up doing whatever it wanted defying gravity and the mask covered the lower half of his face with the same unwavering commitment it always had.

Hana stopped short. Her brain, traitor that it was, supplied years of teenage crush and half-formed impressions all at once. Stories overheard and a silhouette on rooftops she was always unconsciously looking for. A presence she had learned to recognize long before she ever stood this close to him.

He looked up from his book.

“Yo.”

His tone was easy, as if running into her outside the Hokage’s office was an everyday occurrence. The sound of his voice hit her harder than it had any right to. Calm and slightly amused, completely unbothered unlike her.

Her eyes dropped before she could stop them.

Icha Icha Paradise.

She stared. Too long. Memories of the women’s discussion and the innuendos she’d overheard resurfaced.

Heat rushed up her neck in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the fact that her long-standing and entirely impractical crush, was standing outside the Hokage’s office reading softcore porn like it was a training manual.

Of all places. Outside the Hokage’s office. In broad daylight.

She snapped her gaze back up expression carefully neutral while internally questioning every life choice that had led her here. Kakashi’s eyes curved slightly, suggesting he had noticed everything and found it mildly entertaining.

“Judging by the noise..” he said mildly tilting his head toward the door behind her “I’d say Tsunade-sama is in one of her more productive moods.”

Hana exhaled, the breath coming out sharper than intended. She tried to say something but nothing came out. Kakashi waited half a second, then continued calmly and clearly unbothered by the silence.

He glanced down at the book, as if surprised to find it in his own hand and then back at her. “Everyone needs a hobby.”

Hana let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it weren’t edged with disbelief. “That’s um… certainly a choice.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Hasn’t failed me yet.”

She stepped aside to give him room, suddenly very aware of how close he was as he shifted his weight and moved past her, the faint brush of his presence sending her thoughts in several unhelpful directions at once.

“Hatake-san.” she said, voice steady despite herself in silent goodbye.

He nodded once as he went by already reaching for the door. The moment it opened, Tsunade’s voice exploded out into the hallway.

“Put that damn book away, Hatake, before I throw it out the window!” Tsunade roared.

Kakashi didn’t even flinch. He lifted the book slightly as if considering the warning.

“That would be a shame.” he said mildly. “I was just getting to a good part.”

There was a brief dangerous pause. “Get. In.”

Kakashi slipped into the office without further comment, the door closing behind him with a decisive click. Hana stood there for a full minute completely doumfounded, heart still racing in a way she refused to analyze and then turned and started down the Tower stairs.

Some habits it seemed survived the war just fine.

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