Karin adjusted her glasses as she strolled through Konoha's busy market district. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows between the buildings, but the village remained vibrant with activity. Shopkeepers called out their wares, children darted between food stalls, and off-duty shinobi lounged at outdoor cafés.

  Three weeks as a citizen of Konoha, and the place still felt surreal to her.

  She paused at a fruit vendor, selecting a ripe apple and paying with currency that still felt foreign in her hands. In Grass, her movements had always been monitored. Here, she wandered freely, no handlers tracking her chakra signature, no scheduled "donations" of her healing abilities.

  "Karin-san!"

  She turned to see Chouji waving enthusiastically from across the street. His round face beamed as he jogged toward her, a paper bag clutched in one hand.

  "I was hoping to run into you," he said, catching his breath. "Have you tried the new dumplings from Akimichi Supplies? My cousin just perfected the recipe."

  He offered the bag, his expression hopeful. The gesture was so genuine it made her chest tighten uncomfortably.

  "Thanks," she mumbled, accepting one of the dumplings. It was delicious—savory with hints of five spices and something uniquely Konoha that she still couldn't identify.

  "They're good," she admitted, which made Chouji's smile widen.

  "I knew you'd like them! You've got refined taste." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. "Um, I was wondering if maybe tomorrow you'd want to try this barbecue place my family—"

  "Yo! Karin!"

  Kiba's boisterous voice cut through the market chatter. He landed with practiced ease from a nearby rooftop, Akamaru at his heels. The dog barked happily at Karin, circling her once before sitting at attention.

  Chouji's expression fell slightly, though he maintained his friendly demeanor.

  "Inuzuka," he acknowledged with a nod.

  "Akimichi," Kiba returned, then turned his attention fully to Karin. "You're still coming to watch our training session tomorrow, right? Shino's got this new technique he's been working on, and I've nearly perfected that combination attack we discussed."

  Karin felt a flush creep up her neck. The attention was flattering, if overwhelming. In Grass, boys had either avoided her as the "village freak" or regarded her with clinical interest, evaluating her bloodline potential like farmers inspecting breeding stock.

  "I, uh—"

  "She's already got plans," Chouji interjected, puffing up slightly. "We're trying the new barbecue place."

  Kiba's eyes narrowed. "Since when?"

  "Actually," Karin cut in, "I haven't agreed to either yet."

  Both boys turned to her expectantly. The intensity of their focus made her want to step back.

  "I'll... think about it," she managed, adjusting her glasses again—a nervous habit she couldn't seem to break. "Naruto mentioned he might be free tomorrow, and I haven't seen him since he got back from his training trip."

  The mention of Naruto caused both boys to deflate slightly. Karin felt a twinge of guilt, but Naruto was her family—her last connection to her mother and the Uzumaki clan. Of course he took priority.

  "Right, your cousin," Kiba said, a touch too casually. "How's he doing with that new summoning jutsu?"

  "And his girlfriend?" Chouji added, not quite meeting her eyes. "Hinata seemed pretty happy when they got back."

  There it was. The subtle reminder that Naruto was taken, that her lingering feelings for him were both inappropriate and futile. Karin bristled internally.

  "They're fine," she said, her tone sharper than intended. "Look, I should get going. I'll... let you both know about tomorrow."

  She stepped away before either could respond, ignoring the disappointed looks on their faces. As she walked, she felt another familiar chakra signature approaching—calm, precise, and distinctly collected.

  "Karin-san." Shino appeared beside her, falling into step as if they'd planned to meet. "You seem troubled."

  She glanced at the Aburame, whose expression remained hidden behind his high collar and dark glasses. Unlike Kiba and Chouji, Shino wasn't obvious about his interest. He spoke plainly and kept a respectful distance, but she'd caught him watching her during training sessions, felt the gentle hum of his chakra shift when she was near.

  "Just processing," she replied, deliberately vague.

  Shino nodded as if this explained everything. "I've compiled information on medicinal plants native to Konoha that might complement your healing abilities. If you're interested, I could share my findings over tea tomorrow."

  A third invitation. Karin suppressed a hysterical laugh. Was this what normal girls dealt with? Having to choose between multiple boys who actually seemed to like her for who she was?

  "That's... thoughtful," she managed. "I'll consider it."

  Shino inclined his head. "Your consideration is appreciated." He paused, then added, "Naruto speaks highly of you. The Aburame respect those who value family bonds."

  With that cryptic statement, he veered away toward a side street, leaving Karin momentarily bewildered.

  Three invitations. Three boys who saw her as more than her healing ability or her Uzumaki lineage. It was disconcerting.

  In Grass, her future had been mapped out with clinical precision. Her mother had protected her as best she could, hiding the full extent of Karin's abilities until she couldn't anymore. After her mother's death, the village elders had made their expectations clear: Karin would serve as a healer, her body a resource to be used until depleted. When she came of age, they would "help" her find a suitable partner—someone with compatible chakra to produce children with her healing abilities.

  "We must preserve the Uzumaki vitality," they'd said, as if they cared about her heritage. As if they weren't just looking to breed more tools for their arsenal.

  Now in Konoha, boys sought her out willingly. They brought her food, invited her to training, compiled research for her benefit. They noticed when she changed her hairstyle or got new glasses. They asked about her day and actually listened to her answers.

  It was terrifying.

  Karin turned down a quieter street, needing space to think. That's when she spotted him—the Sand shinobi with purple face paint sitting alone on a bench, a large bundled object propped beside him. He stared out at nothing in particular, his expression troubled.

  Kankuro. The puppet master from the Chunin exams.

  She considered walking past, but something in his posture resonated with her—the look of someone caught between worlds, not quite belonging in either.

  "Long way from Suna," she remarked, stopping a few paces from his bench.

  Kankuro's head snapped up, his hand instinctively moving toward his puppet before recognition dawned. "You're that girl from the exams. The one whose teammates died."

  Karin winced. Not her favorite introduction. "Karin Uzumaki."

  "Right." Kankuro relaxed marginally, his hand dropping from his weapon. "What do you want?"

  "Nothing." She shrugged. "Just saw a fellow outsider looking lost."

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn't deny it. After a moment, he shifted slightly on the bench—not quite an invitation to sit, but not a rejection either. Karin took it, settling at the far end.

  For several minutes, they sat in silence, watching Konoha's residents pass by. Children laughed, shopkeepers haggled, shinobi moved with purposeful strides—all part of the intricate social fabric that made Konoha feel so different from the utilitarian severity of Grass.

  "It's a lot, isn't it?" Karin finally said, gesturing vaguely at the village around them. "All this... warmth."

  Kankuro snorted. "That's one word for it. I'd go with 'chaotic' or 'inefficient.' Three different flower shops on one street? Who needs that many flowers?"

  "People who like choice, I guess." Karin plucked at a loose thread on her sleeve. "Doesn't Suna have markets?"

  "Of course we have markets," he retorted. "They're organized. Practical. Not this..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever this is."

  But despite his words, Karin noticed how his eyes lingered on a group of academy students playing tag, their laughter echoing down the street. Something like longing flickered across his face before he caught himself and looked away.

  "So how are your dates with Tenten going?" she asked, changing the subject.

  Kankuro's reaction was immediate and explosive. He bolted upright, nearly knocking his puppet off the bench. "What dates? We're not—I don't—who told you that?"

  Karin rolled her eyes. "If you didn't want people to know, maybe don't have a half-hour flirting session in front of all the contestants and the Hokage himself."

  The puppet master slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. "Oh god."

  "Relax," Karin said. "No one's going to execute you for fraternizing with the enemy." When he tensed at her choice of words, she added, "Figure of speech."

  "Look, it's not what you think," Kankuro muttered through his fingers. "We've just been talking shop. She knows weapons, I know puppets. Professional interest."

  "Sure," Karin drawled. "That's why you get that dopey look on your face whenever someone mentions her name."

  Kankuro shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. After a moment, he sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway. After the exams, I'll be heading back to Suna."

  "So?" Karin shifted to face him better. "I know how it feels, you know. Coming from somewhere like Grass, then landing here. It's... different."

  "I'm loyal to my village," Kankuro bit out, his tone suddenly defensive.

  The vehemence in his voice sparked Karin's own temper. "Well, Grass cast me out!" she snarled. "After everything my mother and I did for them, they couldn't wait to get rid of me. One dead team, and suddenly I'm persona non grata."

  Her outburst surprised even herself. She hadn't meant to reveal so much, but something about Kankuro's situation resonated with her own conflicted feelings.

  "Look," she continued, forcing her voice to even out, "I'm just saying, if you like it here, there are options. You could try for a liaison position or something. Your dad's the Kazekage, right? Use some nepotism."

  Kankuro let out a hollow laugh. "He's not much of a dad."

  The bitterness in his tone told Karin all she needed to know. Family was complicated everywhere, it seemed.

  "Well, you've got a pretty messed up family situation with your brother being such a psycho," she remarked, thinking of the red-headed boy with the murderous chakra.

  To her surprise, Kankuro straightened, his expression hardening. "You don't know what Gaara's been through," he said, and for the first time, there was real emotion in his voice—not just annoyance or discomfort, but genuine pain. "I'm a terrible brother. Older siblings are supposed to protect the younger ones, but I've been afraid of him my whole life."

  "That's what makes Leaf so appealing, isn't it?" Karin continued, gazing out at the villagers going about their lives. "They're just so... warm."

  Despite his earlier skepticism, Kankuro nodded slowly, his eyes tracking a father who had stopped to lift his daughter onto his shoulders, the child's delighted giggles carrying in the evening air.

  For a while, they sat in companionable silence, two outsiders finding momentary understanding in their shared displacement.

  Finally, Kankuro stood, hoisting his bundled puppet onto his back. "I should get back to training," he said, though his tone suggested his mind was elsewhere. The weight on his shoulders seemed to have increased during their conversation, some inner conflict visibly churning behind his eyes.

  "I'll see you at the finals," Karin offered, not knowing what else to say.

  Kankuro winced, the reaction so subtle she almost missed it. "Yeah," he muttered. "Sure."

  As he walked away, Karin watched his retreating back, wondering what exactly had transpired between them. For all his bluster about loyalty to Suna, something about Konoha had gotten under Kankuro's skin—just as it had hers.

  The difference was, she had nothing to return to. Grass had made it clear she wasn't welcome back. Her path forward, confusing as it might be with its unexpected suitors and newfound freedoms, lay here in Konoha.

  For Kankuro, the choice wasn't so simple. And from the troubled set of his shoulders as he disappeared around a corner, Karin suspected whatever conflict he was facing ran deeper than just a crush on a Leaf kunoichi.

  She turned back toward her apartment, thoughts drifting again to Naruto, to Shino, Kiba, and Chouji, to the strange new reality where people actually seemed to want her around—not for what her body could provide, but for who she was.

  Tomorrow, she'd have to choose between three invitations, navigate her complicated feelings for her cousin, and continue figuring out her place in this bewildering village.

  But tonight, she'd try to appreciate the simple gift Konoha had given her: the freedom to make those choices at all.

  Sakura groaned as she made her way home, her muscles protesting with each step. Kakashi had been particularly merciless today, drilling them on chakra control exercises that even she—with her near-perfect control—found challenging. The Chunin exam finals were approaching rapidly, and their silver-haired sensei seemed determined to wring every ounce of potential from them before the big day.

  Her ears twitched at the sound of familiar laughter as she rounded the corner to her street. Two women stood chatting outside her house—one was unmistakably her mother, but the other...

  "Tsubaki?" Sakura called out, surprise momentarily overriding her fatigue.

  Both women turned, Tsubaki's face lighting up with recognition. "Oh, Sakura! I was just leaving." She wore her chunin vest proudly over a practical outfit, her long dark hair pulled back in its usual style.

  "What are you doing here?" Sakura asked, trying not to sound accusatory. After her dinner with Tsubaki and the subsequent uncomfortable questioning about her changes, she'd been somewhat wary of the older kunoichi.

  "Would you believe I had no idea your mother was my old senpai?" Tsubaki laughed, glancing at Mebuki. "Small world, isn't it?"

  Mebuki smiled, resting a hand on Sakura's shoulder. "I mentored Tsubaki a bit when she first made chunin. It's been, what, seven years now?"

  "Eight," Tsubaki corrected with a polite nod. "I was just passing by and recognized Mebuki-senpai doing some gardening. Couldn't resist stopping to say hello."

  Sakura's ears twitched, catching the slight elevation in Tsubaki's heartbeat. Not quite a lie, but not the entire truth either. Her enhanced senses had certainly made reading people easier, even if it sometimes told her things she'd rather not know.

  "Well, I won't intrude on your time together," Tsubaki said, adjusting her vest. "It was lovely catching up, Mebuki-senpai. And Sakura—good luck in the finals! Mizuki and I will be cheering for you."

  With a final wave, Tsubaki started down the street, her posture perfect—every inch the model kunoichi. Sakura watched her go, a faint unease settling in her stomach that she couldn't quite explain.

  "Such a nice girl," Mebuki said cheerfully, ushering Sakura inside. "Always so polite."

  The cool air of their home was a welcome relief from the summer heat. Sakura dropped her training bag by the door and gratefully accepted the glass of barley tea her mother offered.

  "What did you two talk about?" Sakura asked, trying to sound casual as she gulped down the cold drink.

  Mebuki waved dismissively while pulling ingredients from the refrigerator for dinner. "Oh, just catching up. It's been ages since we've talked properly. Career, village gossip, you know—the usual."

  She laid out vegetables on the cutting board with practiced efficiency, only pausing to give Sakura a conspiratorial smile. "I probably shouldn't say this, but Tsubaki was quite the social climber back in the day."

  Sakura raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. "What do you mean?"

  "Well," Mebuki lowered her voice even though they were alone, "everyone knew she had attached herself to Mizuki's rising star. He was considered one of the most promising chunin of his year—track for ANBU or special jōnin at the very least."

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  The knife made rhythmic thunks as Mebuki chopped through carrots. "But we were all fools. Those awful rumors about Mizuki completely derailed his promotions, and Tsubaki stuck with him through thick and thin."

  Sakura's ears perked forward with interest despite herself. "What rumors?"

  "Nothing concrete," Mebuki said, which Sakura recognized as her mother's way of saying the rumors were particularly juicy. "He had been vocal proponent of Orochimaru becoming the fifth after the the Nine-tails attack. When Orochimaru abandoned the village after those experiments of his where discovered many thought he might still harbor loyalty to the traitor. Never proven, of course, but mud sticks in the ninja world."

  Her mother scooped the chopped vegetables into a bowl with a satisfied smile. "But now Mizuki seems to have found his place at the academy. And with so many of his students doing so well so quickly—yourself included—those old rumors can finally be laid to rest."

  Sakura nodded, not mentioning how her mother had been one of the primary proliferators of those "awful rumors" years ago. She distinctly remembered Mebuki speculating with the other wives about Mizuki's supposed misdeeds over tea. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't become as much of a gossip when she got older.

  "I need to change and take a quick shower," Sakura said, finishing her tea. "I'm heading to the hospital afterward."

  Concern instantly flashed across Mebuki's face. "Is one of your friends hurt? Not Sasuke-kun, I hope?"

  Sakura shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Remember that girl from the prelims? Isaribi? She's finally out of isolation. They had to put her in a special seal formation to fully understand what Orochimaru had done to her."

  Her mother's expression darkened at the mention of the rogue Sannin. "That poor child. Is she recovering well?"

  "I think so. I organized for Ino, Hinata, Tenten, and myself to welcome her properly now that she's allowed visitors." Sakura shifted her weight, wincing as her sore muscles protested. "She seemed so angry and lost during the match. I thought maybe having some girls her age visit might help."

  Mebuki's face softened with motherly pride. "That's very thoughtful of you, sweetheart. Why don't you invite the girls over for dinner sometime? It would be nice to have a full house again."

  "Thanks, Mom. I'll ask them." Sakura started toward the stairs, eager for that shower.

  "Don't forget to scrub behind those ears!" Mebuki called after her, the same joke she'd made ever since Sakura's transformation.

  Sakura rolled her eyes. "Very funny, Mom!"

  Upstairs in her room, Sakura stripped off her sweat-soaked training clothes and grabbed her towel. As she passed her dresser, a glint of glass caught her eye. There, tucked behind her jewelry box, sat the small vial Queen Joousa had given her years ago.

  The special elixir.

  Sakura picked it up carefully, turning it in her fingers. She'd tried to return it a couple of times, but Queen Joousa had always refused to take it back, probably hoping Sakura would eventually use it.

  The liquid inside had once glimmered with an opalescent sheen, but now it seemed duller, the swirls of color less vibrant. She wondered if it had expired or lost its potency. The Queen had never mentioned a shelf life, but surely even near magical elixirs couldn't last forever?

  She should really return it now that her changes were complete. There was no reason to keep it anymore. But something held her back each time the thought crossed her mind—perhaps the same curiosity that had led her to sign the summoning contract in the first place.

  Sakura carefully placed the vial back in its hiding spot. She'd deal with it after the finals.

  For now, she had a visit to prepare for.

  Fifteen minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in civilian clothes—a simple red dress modified to accommodate her tail, with a light jacket to ward off the hospital's perpetual chill—Sakura headed back downstairs.

  "I'm leaving!" she called to her mother, who was now watching a drama on the television.

  "Have fun! Tell that girl we're all rooting for her recovery!" Mebuki called back without looking away from her show.

  Sakura stepped out into the early evening air, her damp hair cooling her neck as she set off toward the hospital. The streets were quieter now, many villagers already home for dinner. The few who passed her still sometimes did double-takes at her rabbit features, though far less often than before. She barely noticed anymore.

  Her mind wandered to Isaribi as she walked. They weren't so different, really. Both changed by outside forces, their bodies manipulated for someone else's goals. But where Sakura had sought her alterations willingly, even eagerly, Isaribi had been an unwilling experiment.

  Orochimaru seemed to have a talent for taking vulnerable people and twisting them to suit his needs. Sasuke's curse mark, Isaribi's fish-like form, the Sound ninja's modifications—all branches of the same poisonous tree.

  She thought about what her mother had said about Mizuki and frowned. There was something about his interactions with Naruto that had always seemed off. The way he looked at her teammate sometimes, calculating and cold despite his friendly demeanor.

  Just paranoia, probably. The Chunin exams had everyone on edge. And Orochimaru was on everyone's mind.

  Sakura picked up her pace as the hospital came into view, its white fa?ade catching the last rays of the setting sun. Her acute hearing picked up the familiar cadence of Ino's laugh around the corner. Looked like she was the last to arrive.

  She turned the corner and nearly tripped over her own feet.

  "What. Are. You. Wearing?"

  Ino stood with Hinata and Tenten by the hospital entrance, clad in a skintight purple jumpsuit that was unmistakably modeled after Lee's infamous green one. The only differences were the color and a stylish cutout at the midriff that showed off Ino's toned stomach.

  "Like it?" Ino struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other flashing a victory sign. "I call it fashion-forward ninja wear."

  "It's... certainly forward," Sakura managed, still processing the sight.

  "Lee nearly fainted when he saw it," Tenten said, barely containing her laughter. "Gai-sensei started crying about the 'springtime of youth spreading to the beautiful flowers of Konoha.'"

  Ino twirled, showing off how the fabric hugged her curves. "Don't hate me because I can make anything look good, Forehead. It's breathable, flexible, and perfect for combat. Plus, purple is totally my color."

  The most annoying part was that Ino somehow did make it work. Where Lee's jumpsuit made him look like an overenthusiastic vegetable, Ino's version was undeniably stylish. Sakura would rather chew kunai than admit it, though.

  "I'm just glad you didn't go with the orange leg warmers," Sakura said instead.

  "Please," Ino flipped her ponytail. "I have limits."

  Hinata greeted Sakura with a shy wave, looking much more conventionally dressed in her usual outfit. "I h-hope we're not late for visiting hours."

  "We're fine," Tenten assured her. "I checked earlier."

  Something glinted in Tenten's hair, catching Sakura's eye. A delicate metal flower was pinned above her ear, its petals reflecting the light with a subtle iridescence.

  "That's beautiful," Sakura said, pointing to the accessory. "I've never seen you wear jewelry before."

  Tenten's face lit up. "Oh, this? It's not just for decoration." She reached up and plucked the flower from her hair. With a flick of her wrist, the petals flattened and elongated, transforming into a four-pointed shuriken. Another manipulation and it became a small kunai with an unusually ornate handle.

  "That's amazing," Sakura leaned closer, her scientific curiosity piqued. "The mechanism must be incredibly complex for such a small item."

  "Kankuro helped me design it," Tenten admitted, a hint of pride in her voice as she demonstrated more transformations. "We've been working on it during his free time. It can change into fifteen different weapons now."

  The flower morphed into a miniature version of a fuma shuriken, then a set of senbon, before returning to its original flower form with a nearly imperceptible click.

  "The sleep capsule is still jammed though," Tenten frowned, tapping the center of the flower. "The release mechanism gets stuck when I try to deploy it. We're still working out the kinks."

  Ino wrinkled her nose. "I don't know how you can stand to spend so much time with him. I ran into Temari in the market yesterday and tried to say hello—you know, just being friendly to my fellow kunoichi—and she practically bit my head off. Made some nasty comment about how Leaf ninjas should mind their own business."

  She flipped her ponytail again, a sure sign of agitation. "And don't get me started on that creepy little brother of theirs. I'm going to enjoy watching Shikamaru take him down in the finals."

  Tenten's expression hardened slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about. Kankuro's under a lot of pressure. His father's the Kazekage—there are expectations."

  "So? My dad's the head of the Yamanaka clan, and I don't go around being rude to everyone," Ino countered.

  "It's not the same," Tenten insisted. "The Sand Village is different. And yeah, maybe his siblings are a bit... intense, but Kankuro's actually really nice once you get to know him." She traced the edge of her metal flower. "And his blades are just so sharp."

  The wistful tone in her voice didn't escape Ino. She leaned in, a sly smile spreading across her face. "So, what exactly have you two been 'working on' together? Must be some pretty intense engineering sessions."

  "Well, we've been experimenting with different types of chakra conductive metals, and he's been teaching me about the puppet technique's applications for weapons deployment—" Tenten caught herself mid-explanation, narrowing her eyes at Ino. "Hey! You're not getting me to spill his techniques that easily. Nice try."

  Sakura and Hinata exchanged amused glances as Ino feigned innocence.

  "What? I'm just showing an interest in my friend's hobbies," Ino said, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

  "Sure you are," Tenten rolled her eyes, carefully re-pinning the flower in her hair. "And I bet you wear that jumpsuit because it's 'breathable,' not because Lee can't stop staring at you in it."

  Ino's cheeks colored slightly. "Lee appreciates fashion, that's all."

  Hinata's gentle giggle made them all smile, the momentary tension dissolving.

  "We should probably head in," Sakura suggested, gesturing toward the hospital doors. "I told Isaribi we'd be there by six."

  The girls nodded, and they made their way into the hospital's sterile white hallways. The antiseptic smell hit Sakura's sensitive nose immediately, making her wrinkle it in discomfort. One downside of enhanced rabbit senses was that hospitals were particularly overwhelming places.

  As they turned down the corridor leading to Isaribi's room, Sakura spotted a familiar silver-haired figure ahead of them. Kabuto stood at Isaribi's door, clipboard in hand, fingers just touching the handle.

  "Kabuto!" Sakura called, her rabbit ears twitching slightly in surprise.

  He turned, seeming startled for just a fraction of a second before a pleasant smile spread across his face. "Ah, Sakura-san, and friends." His eyes moved over their small group, lingering briefly on Ino's purple jumpsuit before returning to Sakura. "Is everyone okay? I don't usually see so many visitors at once unless something's happened."

  "We're fine," Sakura assured him. "We're just here to see Isaribi."

  "All of you?" Kabuto adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the fluorescent lights overhead. "That's very kind."

  Something about his tone made Sakura's sensitive ears twitch. She couldn't place what felt off—perhaps it was just the hospital setting making her uneasy.

  "I've been assigned to this floor today," Kabuto continued, tapping his clipboard. "I was just about to check in on Isaribi-san, actually. She's been very tired from all the examinations. The medical staff has been quite thorough with their assessments."

  Hinata fidgeted with her fingers. "P-perhaps we should come another day? If she needs rest..."

  "That might be best," Kabuto agreed, nodding thoughtfully. He reached for the door handle again. "I can let her know you stopped by."

  From behind the door, a voice called out: "Is someone there? Come in!"

  Kabuto's hand stilled. Sakura caught a flicker of—something—cross his face before his pleasant smile returned. He sighed softly.

  "Well, it seems she's awake after all." He stepped back from the door. "Go ahead, I'll do my check-ups later." He gestured for them to enter, then glanced down at his clipboard. "Busy, busy," he muttered under his breath as he moved aside.

  Sakura couldn't help but notice how his fingers tightened slightly around the clipboard, his knuckles whitening before he relaxed them.

  "Thank you, Kabuto-san," Tenten said as they filed past him.

  "Yes, thank you," Ino added with a bright smile. "Love the glasses, by the way. Very professional."

  Kabuto chuckled, though Sakura thought it sounded slightly strained. "Just doing my job. Enjoy your visit, ladies."

  The room was standard hospital issue—white walls, beige curtains, and the unmistakable sterile scent that made Sakura's sensitive nose wrinkle. A single bed occupied the center, with monitoring equipment standing silent sentinel nearby. What wasn't standard was the girl sitting up in the bed.

  Sakura froze, feeling the others do the same beside her. The figure before them was completely, utterly human.

  Isaribi sat cross-legged on the hospital bed, wearing the standard-issue pale blue patient gown. Her skin was smooth and normal—not a scale in sight. Her hair, a rich purple shade, fell in soft waves around her face. No gills, no fish-like features, nothing to indicate she was anything but an ordinary teenage girl.

  "Wow," Ino broke the stunned silence. "You look... different."

  Isaribi's face twisted into a grimace. "It's a transformation. I thought I was locked in my other form, but apparently not." She gestured to herself, her movements carrying a hint of bitterness. "The medi-nin explained that it wasn't the case. I can switch between forms at will—I just didn't know it."

  "That's wonderful, isn't it?" Hinata ventured softly, stepping closer to the bed.

  Isaribi snorted. "Yeah, great. Spent years thinking I was stuck as a freak when I could have looked normal anytime." She tugged at a strand of her hair, twisting it around her finger. "It was probably a genjutsu used by Orochimaru. A simple way to have me stay in my other form so he could get data. Then if he wanted to keep me, it would be easy to 'fix' me." She made air quotes around the word 'fix.'

  "That's horrible," Tenten said, setting a small gift bag on the bedside table. "I brought you some dango from the shop near my apartment. I wasn't sure what flavor you'd like, so there's a variety."

  Isaribi stared at the bag, then at Tenten, as if unsure how to respond to the simple kindness. "...Thank you," she said finally, her voice slightly rough.

  Sakura stepped forward and pulled up one of the visitor chairs. "How are they treating you here?"

  "Fine," Isaribi shrugged. "They're polite enough. Run tests, ask questions, run more tests. It's better than where I was before." She glanced toward the door, then lowered her voice. "That silver-haired guy, though—he gives me the creeps."

  "Kabuto?" Ino asked, settling herself at the foot of the bed. The purple jumpsuit stretched as she crossed her legs, causing Isaribi to raise an eyebrow. "He seems nice enough to me. A little uptight maybe."

  "There's something... I don't know. He smiles too much." Isaribi frowned. "And he's always taking extra blood samples. Says it's for 'comprehensive analysis.'" She mimicked his voice with surprising accuracy.

  "He does tend to be thorough," Sakura said.

  "Maybe too thorough," Isaribi muttered. "Whatever. Not like I have a choice in who treats me."

  Hinata, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up. "You always have a choice, Isaribi-san."

  Everyone turned to look at her, and a faint blush colored her cheeks, but she continued. "If you're uncomfortable with any of the m-medical staff, you have the right to request someone else. It's hospital policy."

  "Hinata's right," Sakura agreed, surprised and pleased by her friend's assertiveness. "And if anyone gives you trouble about it, let us know. I can talk to the Hokage."

  Isaribi's expression shifted from skeptical to something that might have been the distant cousin of hope. "You'd do that?"

  "Of course," Sakura nodded firmly. "We're not going to let you be mistreated. Not here, not in Konoha."

  "Especially not after what you've already been through," Tenten added.

  Isaribi looked away, but not before Sakura caught the slight shine in her eyes. "Whatever. It's not like I'm staying long anyway. Once they're done with their tests, I'm out of here."

  "Where will you go?" Ino asked, leaning forward with interest.

  "Dunno yet. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere without ninjas." Isaribi's gaze drifted to the window, where the last rays of daylight were fading. "Somewhere I can just be... normal."

  A brief silence fell over the room, broken only by the distant sounds of the hospital—wheels rolling down hallways, voices murmuring, the occasional beep of medical equipment.

  "Well, until then," Sakura said, reaching into her bag, "I brought you something to pass the time." She pulled out a book, its cover decorated with intricate illustrations of marine life. "It's about ocean creatures from all over the world. I thought... well, you might find it interesting."

  Isaribi took the book, running her fingers over the embossed cover. "I don't read very well," she admitted quietly. "Never had much schooling."

  "I can help with that," Sakura offered. "I could stop by sometimes, if you want. We could read together."

  Isaribi looked up, genuine surprise written across her face. "Why would you do that?"

  "Because that's what friends do," Ino said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  "We're not friends," Isaribi countered, though without much heat. "You don't even know me."

  "Not yet," Tenten grinned. "But we'd like to."

  Isaribi stared at them, confusion evident in her expression. "Is this some kind of Leaf Village technique? Kill your enemies with kindness?"

  Sakura laughed. "No technique. Just how we do things around here."

  "In fact," Ino added, digging through her own small bag, "I brought you something too." She pulled out a small vial of lavender-colored liquid. "It's a special perfume I made. It's subtle—won't overwhelm sensitive senses—but it helps with anxiety and stress."

  "I experimented with it when I was helping Kiba train, once" she continued, setting the vial on the bedside table. "His nose is even more sensitive than Sakura's, and he said it was the only scent that didn't make him want to sneeze his brains out."

  "That's... thoughtful," Isaribi said slowly, as if testing out the concept.

  "And I brought this," Hinata offered, retrieving a small package wrapped in pale blue paper. "It's a special salve my family makes. It helps with scarring and skin irritation."

  Isaribi unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small ceramic jar. She opened it and sniffed cautiously, then looked up with genuine surprise. "It smells nice."

  "It should help with any discomfort from the tests," Hinata explained softly. "And it's water-resistant, so it won't wash off immediately if you... transform."

  Isaribi's lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "Thanks."

  They chatted for a while longer, careful to keep the conversation light. Ino regaled them with tales of her team's antics, making even Isaribi snort with laughter at her impression of Shikamaru's perpetual exasperation. Tenten showed off more of her transforming flower weapon, demonstrating how each form could be useful in different combat scenarios. Hinata spoke quietly about her training with Naruto, a soft blush coloring her cheeks whenever she mentioned his name.

  Throughout it all, Sakura watched Isaribi gradually relax, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing as the evening wore on. She still maintained a certain guardedness, but it was different now—less like a cornered animal and more like someone unsure of how to navigate unfamiliar but potentially positive territory.

  "So that's why I can never shop with Ino again," Tenten was saying, finishing a story about an ill-fated trip to a weapons shop that had ended with three broken display cases and a lifetime ban. "The owner still glares at me when I walk by, and it wasn't even my fault!"

  "I helped pay for the damages!" Ino protested, throwing her hands up dramatically. "How was I supposed to know the shelf was load-bearing?"

  "Maybe the sign that said 'DO NOT LEAN ON SHELF' was a clue?" Sakura suggested innocently.

  "That could have meant anything," Ino sniffed.

  Isaribi's shoulders were shaking slightly, and it took Sakura a moment to realize she was silently laughing.

  A knock at the door interrupted them, and a nurse poked her head in. "Sorry to intrude, but visiting hours are ending soon."

  "Already?" Tenten glanced at the clock on the wall. "Time flies."

  "We should let you rest," Sakura said, standing and gathering her things. "But we'll come back, if that's okay?"

  Isaribi hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Yeah. That'd be... fine."

  As they said their goodbyes and headed for the door, Isaribi called out, "Hey, Rabbit-girl."

  Sakura turned, her ears perking up at the nickname.

  "Thanks. For the book." Isaribi held it up slightly. "And... you know. For coming."

  Sakura smiled. "You're welcome. Get some rest, okay?"

  They filed out into the hallway, the door closing behind them with a soft click. The corridor was quieter now, most of the day staff having gone home.

  "That went better than I expected," Ino said as they walked toward the exit. "I thought she'd be more..."

  "Hostile?" Tenten suggested.

  "Yeah. I mean, considering everything."

  "She's been through a lot," Sakura said thoughtfully. "And she's still processing it all. But I think there's hope."

  "Do you think she'll stay in Konoha?" Hinata asked.

  Sakura thought about the look on Isaribi's face when they'd all presented their gifts—the surprise, the suspicion, but also the faint flicker of something that might have been longing. "I don't know. But I hope she gives us a chance to show her that not all ninjas are like Orochimaru."

  As they passed the nurses' station, Sakura noticed Kabuto hunched over a chart, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up as they approached, that same pleasant smile returning to his face.

  "Finished with your visit?" he asked.

  "Yes," Tenten replied. "She seemed tired toward the end. We thought it best to let her rest."

  "Very considerate." Kabuto nodded approvingly. "I was just about to check on her. See if there's anything she needs before the night shift takes over."

  "She mentioned she might prefer a different medical-nin," Sakura said carefully, watching his reaction. "She seems a bit... uncomfortable with some of the testing."

  Something flickered behind Kabuto's glasses—annoyance? Concern? It was gone too quickly for Sakura to identify.

  "Discomfort is understandable, given her situation," he said smoothly. "But the tests are necessary if we're to fully understand what Orochimaru did to her. It's for her own good."

  "Of course," Sakura nodded. "Still, patient comfort is important too."

  "I'll make a note of her concerns," Kabuto said, jotting something on his clipboard. The pen seemed to press harder into the paper than necessary. "Was there anything specific that bothered her?"

  "Just the frequency of blood draws, I think," Ino said.

  "Ah." Kabuto's smile didn't falter. "Standard procedure for cases like hers. We need regular samples to track any changes in her condition. But I'll see if we can space them out more."

  He checked his watch. "You should hurry if you want to make it out before they lock the main entrance. The night guards get grumpy about letting people out after hours."

  "Right," Sakura said, though something in her gut told her to linger. "Thanks, Kabuto-san."

  As they walked away, Sakura glanced back. Kabuto was still at the nurses' station, watching them go. When he saw her looking, he gave a friendly wave.

  She waved back, but a chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the hospital's air conditioning.