The small waiting area outside the birthing room was thick with tension. James Potter pacing back and forth so quickly that his robes flared with each turn. His hands raked through his already untidy hair, and his muttering alternated between half-formed prayers and frantic questions to himself.
Sirius Black sat slouched in one of the stiff wooden chairs, trying to project his usual nonchalance, but his eyes never left James.
Every few seconds, he made some dry remark in an effort to calm his friend.
"Prongs, you're going to wear a hole in the floor. Sit. Breathe. The healers know what they're doing."
But James only threw him a sharp, restless glance and kept pacing.
Remus Lupin stood nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his expression calm but attentive. His voice was steady when he spoke, a quiet anchor amid James's storm of nerves.
"Everything will be alright, James. Lily's strong. She's in the best hands possible."
But Remus's reassurance did little to stop James's heart from pounding. This wasn't how he had imagined today. He and Lily had been expecting their first child—a boy. Harry. They had been so sure of it. Yet inside that room, something had gone wrong. The Healers had whispered about "complications," and the word gnawed at him.
"Didn't you guys heard what the nurse said?" James almost look breathless and worried. "Complications! They can't just throw it at my face and walk away!"
"Jamie, I think that's not what they said-"
"Shut it, padfoot!"
Minutes bled into hours. The occasional muffled voice from behind the door only fed James's anxiety. Sirius had long given up trying to make jokes, and Remus's quiet watchfulness had turned into faintly furrowed concern.
Sirius and Remus were worried too, How much longer do they wait? What is going on inside?
Finally—after what felt like an eternity—the door swung open. A nurse stepped out in white robes, her expression tired but professional.
James was on her in an instant, gripping her arm before she could take two steps. "How is she? Lily—my wife—how is she?"
Remus straighten up. "James!"
"Geez Merlin balls, Jamie! Let the poor nurse go"
The nurse blinked as he grabbed her arm then gave a small, careful smile. "Your wife is fine, Mr. Potter. And… congratulations. You're the father of twins."
For a moment, James just stared at her, the words not quite sinking in.
"Twins?" Sirius echoed, sitting up straight in his chair. "As in… two? You're saying James here actually made—?"
"Yes, Mr. Black, two," the nurse said briskly, cutting off Sirius's smirk before it could form. "The firstborn is a girl, the secondborn a boy. Both delivered safely."
The tension in the air cracked like a bubble. James let out a shaky laugh, feeling the relief wash over him. Sirius grinned broadly getting up from his seat and even Remus's lips curved into a warm smile.
Twins!! Not one but two! Twins! What a surprise indeed!
But their moment of celebration faltered when the nurse's expression changed—her smile fading into something heavier.
"However…" she began, her voice softer now, "the girl—the firstborn—is very weak. We're doing everything we can for her, but her magical core is underdeveloped. She's pale, fragile… and we can't be certain she'll survive the night."
The words struck James like a physical blow. He lets her go, His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, hands covering his face. Sirius was by his side and Remus as well.
"W-What do you mean?" James looks shaken. No, no, no. "Please tell me this is a terrible joke?"
The nurse gave them a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry," she murmured, before excusing herself to fetch the attending doctor.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. James knelt there, trembling, his mind torn between the joy of having two children and the sudden terror of losing one before he even had the chance to hold her.
"Jamie calm down, I am sure everything will turn out to be just fine! That woman doesn't know who she is talking about!" Sirius wasn't good at comfort, he fucking sucks, both of them knew.
"James" Remus rest his hand on James shoulder in comfort. "Everything will be okay... We should be strong for them. Magic fix everything! We will protect them"
James blink the tears, he held onto them. "Y-Yeah, Magic...fix everything..." His breath shaken.
Merlin, please save his children. Save his daughter.
————
The forest swayed gently in the late afternoon breeze, sunlight breaking through in scattered, golden fragments. Sakura Haruno leapt from branch to branch with her ANBU squad trailing behind her, their masked faces lit faintly by the glow.
The mission had been grueling—an infiltration, a retrieval, and a clean escape—but they had done it. Successfully. After a week of relentless danger and tension, the thought of home made Sakura's shoulders feel just a little lighter.
Hot bath first, she promised herself. Then a full day at the spa with Ino and Hinata. Massage, facial, tea… The mental image was so vivid she almost smiled beneath her mask.
Behind her, her squad members were chattering—relieved, exhausted, eager for familiar streets and warm beds. Even the most stoic among them allowed their posture to relax just a fraction. They were safe. They were done.
Or so it seemed.
Sakura landed on the next branch and froze, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. In the clearing ahead, figures emerged—faces hidden, weapons glinting. Rogue shinobi. At least a dozen.
Her mind sharpened instantly.
"Formation Delta!" she barked, already drawing a kunai. Her team fanned out without hesitation, slipping into their combat roles.
The first clash was fast and brutal—steel rang against steel, jutsu lit the air with bursts of heat and smoke. Sakura's fists struck with bone-breaking precision, her chakra-enhanced blows leaving craters in the earth. But these rogues were persistent… and focused.
It didn't take long to realize their target was her.
Her name had been on bounty lists for years—medic-nin prodigy, apprentice to Tsunade, infamous for turning the tide of battle singlehandedly. But lately, the price on her head had doubled. Killing her wasn't just profitable—it was a glory hunt.
Her squad fought valiantly, taking down enemy after enemy. But then she saw him—a lean, fast-moving shinobi weaving through the chaos, hands flashing through unfamiliar seals. Sakura's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
She lunged forward, intercepting him before the jutsu could complete. "Not on my watch—"
The explosion tore the ground apart.
Heat, light, and pressure slammed into her, lifting her off her feet and hurling her into a tree with bone-jarring force. The world spun into a deafening roar, and for a few precious seconds, there was nothing.
When she came to, her vision was blurred, her ears ringing. She heard someone calling her name—a teammate—shaking her shoulder desperately. She tried to move. She couldn't.
Confusion curdled into dread. She couldn't feel her legs. Or her arms. Or anything. Her chakra… wasn't flowing. It was gone, like a riverbed turned to dust.
She tasted iron—blood—and her vision swam. Tch… this is embarrassing, she thought bitterly. Death by a blast? Really? I thought I'd go down fighting a monster, or saving the world. Not like this.
Still, instinct drove her to try one last healing jutsu, but nothing came. Her body felt cold. Heavy.
Her squadmate's voice was fading, the shouting becoming distant. Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
As darkness closed in, a strange calm settled over her. Guess this is it…
Sakura Haruno, kunoichi of Konohagakure, died on that battlefield.
But her story was far from over.
Her next adventure was about to begin—in a world where chakra did not exist, but magic flowed freely.