Disclaimer: I do not own the series Naruto or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

O

Now You See It

Chapter 5: Picnic

O

"It is February," Sakura stressed, passing a hand over her face in embarrassment. "Do we really have to—?"

"It is a full moon, the evening of Ojou-sama's homecoming, and the Kayano and Nagisa households have already gathered. Be thankful," Honjou advised as she trailed after him. "That our young master was wise enough to keep this at a private and moderate level, in deference to the chance that traveling might have exhausted you."

Sakura might have felt affronted at that implication from any other person. "…the circus was delayed, wasn't it?" Her voice was dry.

"Um…" The young man accompanying her was understandably confused. "Haru—er, Sakura-san," he amended quickly, still feeling a little awkward about leaping into first-name basis with her. "When you say circus…"

"Indeed," agreed Honjou. "The young master did arrange for a circus, but as they are currently based in Moon Country, their arrival shall understandably be delayed." He offered a thin smile. "I do hope Ojou-sama can satisfy herself with a simple repast alongside her nearest and dearest family members, in the mean time."

Choujuurou looked a little pale—or rather, paler than he usually was. It may have just been the contrast between his normal pallor and the rich, dark hue of the formal robes that had been provided for him. "Is it really okay for somebody like me to be present?" It was not the first time he asked, and he was not alone in his uncertainty.

"Indeed, it would be entirely improper if you were not," Honjou declared, for what had to be the hundredth time.. "Ojou-sama is a young lady now, and to face such esteemed guests without an escort would be utterly insulting." Never mind that they were her 'nearest and dearest family members', Sakura thought with a mental scoff. But, she allowed, softening, the balance of familial warmth and unrelenting court-bred poise was something that came all but naturally to her, by this point in her life. It was only the extended absence from Iron that had allowed her to wallow in indulgences of casualness for so long.

She had argued against the need for an escort with all of her wiles and cunning—pointing out that she hadn't been officially acknowledged as of age by the Clan Head, that she was in no danger of scandal among family, that she was here as a formal diplomat—but Honjou tripped her up at every point, and even forced her to contradict herself, without batting so much as a lash.

Her pickings, such as they were, were extremely slim. Tsunade was too important. Kurenai would be piled with hundreds of questions about Sakura's performance, life, health, secrets, hopes, dreams, mishaps, romantic life, and more. Kiba was right out, since he couldn't be trusted not to accidentally cause a blood feud; Shino needed to stay back to keep Kiba in line; Sai, the pale boy, had been a contender up until the moment she engaged him in small talk and his chances of getting gutted rocketed higher than even Kiba's; Yamato, Hinata's other stand-in, apparently had some friction with her uncle Hiraku, of all people, who Sakura hadn't actually realized it was possible to have friction with; and the ANBU operatives, if they were even male, would not unmask without a direct order from Tsunade.

Sakura had nearly talked Honjou around to letting her bring Hinata, up until it came out that she happened to be the heiress of her clan, and that would have 'Implications'. While Sakura didn't technically mind if her family thought she was dating Hinata, the other girl had sheepishly admitted that her father might actually push for a proper betrothal if that sort of misunderstanding arose.

Sakura hadn't realized Hiashi actually liked her at all, given that the extent of their interactions was a few shared dinners and scant conversations, but she supposed it was a mistake that she had made before.

It really had almost come down to the ANBU, until the Mizukage, who had been watching these proceedings with no little amusement, volunteered the younger of her two main guards. He was—almost unbelievably—one of the Seven Swordsmen of Mist, if she was to be believed. That alone was enough to rocket him up in the eyes of most nobles in this country, and the fact that Sakura had never met him before today would hopefully shield her from most of her family's teasing.

After getting the blue-haired shinobi's stammered approval of the arrangement, Sakura had surrendered herself to the familiar clutches of the Main Family's maids. She had been scrubbed, perfumed, made-up, swathed into a formal kimono, and had her hair tugged and slicked and molded into the latest court style. It had apparently begun swinging back towards more traditional images, which was a relief. Better heavy golden ornaments than some living creature.

Choujuurou had managed to keep his glasses and the strange ear-coverings that went with them, but Sakura had been forced to hand over her sunglasses. The Mist-nin had been obviously interested, but Sakura had just mentioned that she had a first-generation doujutsu and left it at that.

Truth be told, even buried under layers and layers of silk, Sakura felt helpless and naked without the dark lenses to hide behind. Outside of her parents, the only family members to have seen her eyes were her grandfather, Hiraku, Tsutomu and Yutaka. The latter had, eventually, offered a stiff, formal apology over his… 'inexcusably banal response' was the pretty little turn of phrase he had used, if she remembered correctly.

That bridge wasn't entirely burned, but the awkwardness still persisted. Sakura wasn't sure what she would do if she had to deal with that from her aunts or their husbands. She was fairly certain Hajime, by virtue of being her mother's twin, would be more or less unfazed.

Still, when they were announced and given leave to raise out of their formal bows, she felt a shiver of uncertainty skitter down her spine. The hall was dead silent, and her relatives were all staring at her, faces utterly unreadable.

"She's really pretty!" One of Tsubaki's sons, she believed, intended to whisper that to his brothers. In the grave silence of the room, it was carried much farther than he likely intended, and Sakura raised a long sleeve to hide the way her mouth curved in relief.

"'Course she is," the tallest of the trio hissed back. "She's from Mama's family." Lord Kayano, her uncle through marriage and a moderately handsome, well-muscled man, tried to smother a smirk behind his closed fan. He did not admonish his children, and Tsubaki smiled sweetly when she caught Sakura's gaze.

Just like that, however, the ice was broken, and her grandfather beckoned them forward to take their places at the table on the dais below him, with the rest of the family.

"I trust your travels have gone well, granddaughter," he said, and Sakura's head was not the only one to snap his way. That was a far more relaxed mood to set than she—than any of them—had ever expected him to set. Especially with an outsider present, and the doors to the veranda opened, letting the moonlight and possible eavesdroppers in.

"Yes," she said, letting her hands rest in her lap. "The train ride was pleasant." The mad dash to the border city where the train left from was decidedly less so, but there was little reason to hash over that.

"And you made a new friend!" Lord Nagisa was a jovial man, if a little on the effeminate side. He and Akemi made a striking pair, but it made it difficult to tell whether or not their three children were boys and girls. Given the natural Haruno inclination towards flower-patterned fabric and long hair, not even the outfits were of much help, beyond separating them by color.

Intellectually, Sakura knew that Tsubaki's sons were Yuuichi, Yuutarou, and Yuuji but for the life of her she couldn't remember how old they were, just that they were younger than her by a few years; five or six, she believed, at an average, which put them at the six-to-twelve range.

Akemi's children, however, were identical triplets named Mikoto, Minami, and Mitsuru, further dashing any chance of uncovering their genders. She did know for a fact that they were going to be nine, though, because their birthday was one week before her own.

All six seemed to be transfixed on her, but her two closest cousins, Tastuo and Toshio, were far more interested in poor Choujuurou They were caging their father Yutaka between them, flicking glances between one another as they tallied up all the different questions they wanted to ask about him. She'd have to deal with that later, but for now she just admired the way they had shot up and begun to fill out; they were no longer shorter than her, and she thought she saw a certain level of muscle definition on their forearms beneath their sleeves.

"I did," she answered her uncle by marriage, glancing up to meet the warm, sleepy gaze of Hiraku across the table. He had gotten to keep his own glasses, as had Tsutomu, she noticed with petulant resentment. "He's such an interesting find, don't you think?"

Unlike Kiba and Shino, her family seemed to understand her meaning immediately.

"Have you tried him out yet?" Akemi's voice was cool and gentle, but the look she raked over the Mist-nin her niece had dragged to the table was nothing short of searing. "If not, I daresay I hope to watch once you can make the proper arrangements."

Sakura saw Choujuurou's ears go red out of the corner of her eye, and hastened to translate. "We've only just met, Akemi-obasama," she demurred. "It would be extremely impolite of me to demand a friendly duel at the very onset of our acquaintance, especially given the circumstances that have cause our paths to cross."

Akemi's smile became just a little less doll-like, and Sakura was left with the feeling of having passed some sort of test. Sakura hoped that Kiba and Shino were having just as much fun feasting with the Mizukage and company.

O

Hours later and much ore comfortably dressed, Sakura crept into an old groundskeeper's shack that had been renovated and filled with silks and cushions, two large bottles of plum wine in hand. Her future Clan Head put them alongside something in a pair of round bottles crafted from frosted glass. Not long after, Toshio and Tatsuo joined them, hauling a large sack of sweets pilfered from the kitchens.

Tsutomu pried open one of the bottles of plum wine and took a deep swig, his dark hair falling over his shoulders like a river of ink. "Well," he said, licking his lips and passing the bottle off to Sakura. "If nothing else, it's good to see you're keeping that charm of yours well-honed. Our younger cousins are positively smitten with you."

"Shut up, Nii-sama," she grumbled, settling back into a pile of pillows and taking a sip of her own. "I was really nervous!"

"Not as nervous as that boy you brought to dinner." Tatsuo sniggered, biting into a small work of sugar, mocha and bean paste that probably cost about as much as the gulp of wine Tsutomu had taken. "I thought Sofu-sama was going to burn a hole in his soul, the way he was staring the guy down." He chewed loudly and with relish, free of prying eyes or his stern father. "Y'know, when he wasn't pouting." He laughed again, this time a little thickly due to the sticky treat in his mouth.

"Sofu-sama doesn't pout," Sakura scoffed, swallowing the mouthful of wine she had been savoring.

Toshio gently tugged the bottle out of her fingers, taking a deep drink of his own. "Oh, that's just what you think. You didn't have to live through the Great Sulk of Midsummer, when you couldn't come up for Tanabata. Or see him when he got the letter explaining that you were going to be on a mission during your sixteenth birthday, away from any and all family members." Toshio, at first glance, seemed much less mischievous than his twin. At least, until you looked him in the eye.

"I still feel like you're exaggerating," she insisted, even as a piece of daifuku shaped like a plum blossom was helpfully shoved into her mouth by Tatsuo. "He sheemed normal 'oo me."

"It's a subtle difference," Tsutomu allowed, reclining next to her and propping himself up on one elbow. "But I thought that shinobi were meant to zero in on those." He cupped his free hand around her cheek, brushing a thumb just beneath her eye. The thin chains attached to the frames of his glasses glittered in the low candlelight. "Or does aesthetic only undermine the real purpose of these eyes of yours? Hmm?" She stayed sullenly silent, until he shifted his hand to pinch and pull at her cheek pointedly. "Hmm? Sakura-chan, you aren't answering me. Don't ignore your Onii-sama, it makes him sad."

"You totally got started without us, didn't you?" Toshio laughed at their elder cousin's forwardness. Sakura had to agree; from what she could smell from her immediate position, he must be at least two or three bottles ahead of them.

"It would be remiss of us to ignore the shining example of our future Head," said Tatsuo, mimicking his father's snooty court-voice perfectly, before swiping the bottle of wine from his brother and chugging a good half of it.

Sakura shrieked out a laugh, pulling free of Tsutomu's hand and shoving away from him. "Tatsuo, you absolute pig! At least enjoy it a little!"

"There's plenty more where this came from," Toshio commented blithely, after poking his twin in the throat to reclaim the bottle. Tatsuo was too busy hacking up the mouthful that had nearly choked him to respond himself. "Really. Tsutomu-nii's wedding is coming up next year, you know, and everybody just keeps sending him case after case of this stuff."

"Wait, for real?" Sakura rolled back over to stare down her eldest cousin. "I thought your betrothal had been broken off, because she was having an affair with some page or another."

"No, that was Ruihime," Tsutomu corrected. "I'm engaged to Akihime of the Onoda clan at the moment." He seemed utterly unconcerned with the matter of his impending marital status, but considering his history with engagements Sakura couldn't exactly blame him.

"I thought Ruihime was the one who turned out to have been a boy the entire time," Sakura said, brow furrowing in thought.

"No, no, that was the Machimiya clan's Yukihime. Er, Yukinori-sama." Tatsuo, it seemed, had recovered. He was soothing the sting of his own brother's vicious betrayal with more dessert. "That one switches between the two, depending on the day."

"I was sure that Yukihime had been the one who eloped with her own father." Sakura was honestly a little distressed at how faulty her memory seemed to be, even in as meaningless a category as this one.

"Foster-father," all three of her cousins chimed. Apparently, it was a correction that had been drummed into them.

"And that was Shion-hime, of the Sakahogi clan," Tsutomu continued. "She was the one who was older than me, remember? I went to the celebration for their son's third birthday last month. They seem very happy together." He frowned at her, suddenly pensive. "Who on Earth is keeping you so well-tuned into my affairs?"

"Hiraku-oji," Sakura said, finally giving in and piling up more daifuku in her lap. "Duh, Onii-sama."

It was always Hiraku. For all that the man was a splendid poet, he was every bit as much an incorrigible gossip. Sakura still thanked him for his letters, though; it kept her at least a little up to date with family matters.

O

Chapter Word Count: 2,655

Total Word Count: 10,595

Targeted Word Count: 8,334

Here we have the family reunion when there's a plus-one, and the family reunion when the kids are busy and asleep and the older family members are free to sneak off to drink and binge on the leftover cake and pie.

Or maybe that's just my family.