Uzumaki

Calm

It was with a silent agreement that Satsuki and Naruto began training together.

He was in her clearing of the woods. When she arrived, it was with some sort of mutual nod that they pounced, knives on fans.

Neither of them won the first time. They both settled in the dust, breathing heavily, and left together in a tired walk late at night.

--

Satsuki came home tired and wounded.

The exhaustion was down to Kakashi, who took unusual pleasure in pushing Satsuki to the limits of her chakra manipulation.

She was wounded because of Naruto, who had hit her harder with every strike. Today, he had nicked her arm with a kunai; the cut was deep.

Sakura was here again, but that wasn't so bad.

The young girl was lying on her front on the bed, poring over a magazine.

Satsuki began unpacking her gear.

"Hey, Satsuki-san-"

Satsuki looked up.

"Do you know Miyamoto Koichi?"

Satsuki frowned, shaking her head. Sakura turned the magazine towards her and pointed at a boy, with pretty, feminine features, bright red hair, and very dark eyes. He was topless, muscled, and for some reason, oily. Sakura looked very enthusiastic about that.

"Isn't he just so-"

She cut off with a quiet squeal, drawing her finger along the printed line of his jaw. "He's just so pretty, Satsuki-san! Haven't you seen him in the media? He's so big right now!"

Satsuki pulled off her shoes and then her socks, running a hand through her her hair and bringing both hands to scrape it back into a ponytail.

"I don't read the newspapers," Satsuki said. She grabbed a hair tie from her nightstand.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "It's not just the newspapers, Satsuki-san! He's seriously everywhere. Have you been living under a rock?"

Satsuki didn't respond, winding the band around her ponytail twice before she tightened it and kicked her shoes aside.

"It says here he's from Iwa," Sakura went on, "and that he's a professional enka singer-

Satsuki raised an eyebrow, reaching down to the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. "He's not a shinobi?"

Sakura paused. She drew her gaze from Satsuki quickly.

"Well, not everyone likes the idea of being a shinobi, Satsuki-san."

Satsuki tossed aside her shirt into a pile of crumpled clothing. "Why bother wasting your time to become strong if you have no purpose in it? What a waste."

Sakura hummed, turning the page to eye the bending angle of his waist. "Perhaps you're looking into it too much. He's just nice to look at, you know? It doesn't always have to be about ninja. Strength. You know. Some people want a different life to that... and that's alright, isn't it?"

Satsuki frowned and reached for a white nightgown; her feet were bare as she moved towards the balcony.

"I just don't understand," Satsuki said with difficulty, her hands clasped on the plastic handle of the sliding door.

"Eh?"

"I don't understand what there could be in a life without that."

Sakura didn't look at Satsuki.