Work Text:
Yagura rubs his temples with slow thumbs.
He hasn’t slept in fifty-six hours and his temper is fraying at the seams. Of all the bickering he has to listen to, the mundane paperwork that he has to go through, the contracts that he has to revise, and the reports he has to read—he’s beginning to reach his limit. The council, if he had to be honest, was full of shit.
Naturally, the economic decline is due to the abrupt decline in the military. The citizens of Mist were not pleased with how the academy conducts its graduation test nor the fact that because of that test, it leads his shinobi into a sea of instability and volatility. The Yondaime agreed of course; the test is barbaric.
This is why he made the notion to get rid of it altogether.
Of course, the Elders were not pleased with his suggestion. It trampled on their ideals, the very foundations of the Mist village, it spat on tradition and made the country seemed weak. He heard all of their excuses and explanations, but still, they did not seem to wrap their head around the pre-historic notion that pitting children against each other in a killed or be killed scenario is a line that should not exact within humanity; however, the debate with having child soldiers is something to discuss on another day.
Still, the Mizukage remains firm on this clause.
He will get rid of this damn clause, even if he has to gut the education program and rebuild it from the ashes of his people’s grief and anger.
Unsurprisingly, the Mizukage has received a positive response, both internationally and nationally. The Hokage had stated that it’s about damn time and the Kazekage had acknowledged their own international program. It’s not the best way to introduce inter-nation cooperation, but it’s a start.
Yagura believes that international cooperation and correspondence will encourage refugees, immigrants, and nin to settle in Mist. That would help rebuild the economy, promote financial stability, and increase the population. All of these take time, however, and that time is costly.
But first, and foremost, his hospital’s medical program is his top concern.
The Mizukage cannot have a prosperous village if all his people died or try dying. That just keeping a poison without an antidote; another metaphor. Keeping his people alive, healthy and moving is what he has to focus on today.
Tsunade-hime had said that his entire hospital should be set on fire. She did not sugar-coat it, not for anyone. Not after a terrorist organization had ran havoc among the Five Great Nations, splintered his military, and ran Suna out of its resources. Konoha had extinguished the fire – as much as Iwa would like to deny it – but they used Kiri’s land to do it.
He inhales.
Yagura had bit his tongue as Tsunade gave a rather lengthy assessment of his hospital – what do you mean you don’t have any monitors? You still do amputations here, are you shitting me? Sterilize everything, incompetent buffoons! Poisons are counter-clockwise not clockwise! Do any of you know how to heal a flesh wound without medical chakra? – and then there was a long tirade on the incomplete filing system.
The Yondaime knows his hospital isn’t the best, yet hearing it from another country’s doctor – despite her being the best medical ninja in the world – is both irritating and humbling.
Yagura wanted the best, so Tsunade had sent her apprentice in her stead.
The Mizukage demanded an explanation.
The Slug Queen had laughed, she’s better than me, my apprentice. I wouldn’t call her my student if she’s anything less.
So when Haruno Sakura arrived with pink hair and eyes greener than any leaves, he had to wonder. He doesn’t meet her, not officially, because well, he has important things to do, his head-advisor and the chief of medicine will do just fine.
He’ll meet her halfway into her teachings.
.
Two hours later, Yagura had enough.
He dismissed his council, elders, and medical staff that thought it’d be a good idea to give him an update every twenty minutes.
He just wants to sleep and maybe eat an entire rack of chicken skewers. He grumbles, walking down the stairs of the third floor, his fingers pick up the faint tendrils of chakra from the south and hisses internally.
His assistants.
He immediately suppresses his chakra, twisting the threads in his veins, the throbbing his left temple burns with each step he takes, his focus wavers from his lack of sleep and he winces at the sharp sting. Once he’s sure that his assistants have scurried off into another location, he releases the reign on his chakra – the Isobu chuckles at his pettiness – and drops down to the last floor.
The morgue.
He slides the door open and sighs when the dampness wraps around his face. It’s cool, quiet, and dark. He unfurls his wrap to clump together to create a makeshift pillow and lays on an empty tray.
Who would think to find him in here?
Yagura smiles at nothing in particular; no one.
.
Yagura thinks he’s gotten at least four hours of sleep before he snaps his eyes awake. He doesn’t know what pricks him into consciousness – he blinks magenta eyes as they lock onto jade; now he knows – and sits up straight. What comes out of his mouth is words that are drenched with delusions and exhaustion, “I was never here—Gods, I just wanted to sleep.”
Sakura stares at him for a moment and frowns, “You’re sleep-deprived, a few days’ worth judging from the hysteria. No sane person would ever sleep in the morgue.”
“I had to get away from the assistants, always nagging me when I’m doing the damn paperwork,” it occurs to Yagura a few minutes later, that he’s acting a tad irrational, and she’s—she’s being extremely informal with him.
There are no honorifics or bowing or even shivering—from fear.
He blinks slowly.
“Ah paperwork,” she sighs and crosses her arms, “I know the feeling, however, I don’t know the woes of desk duty, but I can tell that you’re severely overworked and exhausted. Your chakra is rolling quite erratically. As the current chief of medicine, I want you to get a full night’s rest and eat a high-carb meal once you wake up. If you have any issues, especially since your superiors are overworking you, you tell them to take it up with Haruno Sakura. I will show them personally, what it’s like to fly through a wall.”
Yagura watches the way jade orbs crackle like lightning and he thinks, he may slightly be in love with her; her radiance is almost blinding.
.
Yagura fades from the world for a solid twenty-eight hours, then inhales three bowls of rice, five cups of tea, and whatever Shunko’s grill is serving. He’s human again, he groans in delight when the spiced pork hits his tongue and it’s been too long since he’s felt this well-rested. He even orders two matcha buns filled with custard from the local vendor, after his meeting at noon—not even his stuffy advisors that follow him down the street can alter his mood.
He motions for another stick of dango.
“Do you think it’s wise to be eating so much sugar, Yondaime-sama?” Yukio, his assistant asks quietly in concern and half-disgust.
“My doctor told me to eat high carbs today,” he answers flatly and chews on a mochi ball, “After the last meeting, I do think it’s necessary.”
One of the Elder’s sigh, “Yondaime-sama, obviously our wisdom is wasted on the youth, but we must inform you—”
“—hey!” a familiar voice calls out to him.
Yagura snaps his attention from the crotchety elder to look over at—
—Sakura.
She walks up to him, a frown on her face when she sees his entourage, her pink hair tied at the nape of her neck, her medical lab coat still covers her shoulders, the sunlight drops over her skin like cloth and her eyes are green as ever. She makes a move to order a dango stick and asks with a smile, “How was desk duty? I hope you didn’t get in trouble.”
Yagura smiles and hands his assistant the rest of his dango sticks, “No, I didn’t. I slept for almost thirty hours. I slept better than I have in days. Thank you for your help.”
Sakura waves it off in embarrassment and laughs as his entourage pales in horror. She continues, “Ah, don’t worry about it. You looked really tired, I can’t believe your supervisors are working you that hard! Going without sleep like that can get really dangerous.”
He shrugs and hands her the dango from the vendor, “I’m used to it. Paperwork really is the bane of evil.”
She accepts the stick with a small smile, then she looks at him with furrowed brows and grabs his chin without warning. She tilts his face to the left and to the right – ignoring the sputtering gasps and squeaks from his posse – and hums, “You do have stress lines, but I don’t see any chronic fatigue. I recommend eight to ten hours of sleep if your—”
“—how dare you touch and speak to the Mizukage so—so,” Yukio sputters red in the face and just as horrified as his the other members, “—so casually!”
“Yukio,” Yagura hisses.
Sakura stares at Yagura’s sheepish grin, then glances at his advisors, assistants and drops her dango, “WHAT?”