Chapter Text
Restoring the grove was a Herculean task. By hour two of finding and cataloging the plants in the area, names were swirling together. Iruka sensei had called her a paper ninja but she doubted even her old sensei would be able to memorize this much. The problem was simple: there were too many herbs. An almost impossible variety of poison and medicinal plants populated the grove, scattered throughout. This really is a herbalist’s heaven. She went from plant to plant, drawing and marking plants with makeshift tags. She should stop by the Yamanaka’s shop. With nearly half identified, Sakura collected her things.
“Bye, I’ll be back tomorrow,” she waved to the plants. Shaking her head, she let out a soft chuckle.
It was official. She was going crazy.
Shaking her head, she let out a soft chuckle and started the walk home, forest watching her go. The Nara Forest was around an hour away. It was past the wall so Sakura had to run up the stone using chakra. She felt wobbly near the top, almost decorating the pavement. She really needed to work on her stamina. Well, at least the trek is good training. Making it home without collapsing was a miracle. The alley to her house was dimly lit. I can’t believe it hasn’t even been a day. She opened the door and was met with her mother’s withering glare.
“You shouldn’t be out this late.” She stiffly gestured her inside.
“Sorry, I had some stuff,” Sakura replied, sheepishly. Crescent half moons marked her hands. Mebuki studied her daughter.
“You’ll catch a cold.” A light push on her back, a breath of warmth.
The pair moved inside. Sakura wondered if she should tell her mom about the grove. Her mom would be happy about the new hobby, but the illegality of trespassing in Nara forest was debatable. Then again, being a shinobi was all kinds of morally gray.
Nara forest was only open to clan members or citizens given explicit permission from the Nara head. Sakura was technically qualified, technically being a loose definition. Ino and her got permission from Shilamaru’s dad when she was around seven. Not sure pinky promises made to seven year olds are legally binding. Not even considering, Ino and her were enemies now and he mostly likely agreed because of the InoShikaCho alliance. Sakura sunk into the couch. It was too late now. If they didn’t want her there, they needed better security. Still, she was possibly pissing off one of Konoha’s most powerful clans.
She waited for the anxiety to hit. The rush of fear after Naruto did something stupid. The pinch of annoyance for every late meeting or casual brush-off Kakashi gave her. She waited. After losing Sasuke, after losing her nindo—my worth—the clan rules seemed insignificant.
“I was thinking and,” Mebuki paused, “would you want to make a training plan with me?”
Sakura lit up, nodding. Mebuki wasn't a fool; she knew her daughter. Sakura hadn’t trained consistently in ages. So much time lost. She shook off the thought. Better late than never.
The plan was deceptively simple. Just some intense taijutsu and basic exercise to start. Then came the weapon training. It was more specialized than the typical academy fare. Various wind speeds, altitudes, and stages of combat were woven into the program. She’d have to use her only weapon, versatility. Sakura loved it. The idea of being good, of finally hitting the mark, resonated. The plan was a perfect start and with the addition of Sakura’s runs outside the village, she had a trajectory. Awe set in her bones. Determination curled in her stomach. Let’s do this!
The plan was why she slogged to an empty training ground before the sun kissed the leaves. Only Guy and Lee would be this stupid. She sighed. Naruto would too. If she wanted a hope of keeping pace, she needed this. Despite her exhaustion, she ran the schedule and recorded her results by mid-morning.
Next was Yamanaka’s Flowers. She had been putting it off, dreading Ino finding her.
She probably looked pitiful, she thought. After all, it was common knowledge Sasuke had knocked her out before leaving.
Sakura forced herself to enter the shop, flinching when the entering bell rang. And, of course, smashed into Ino.
“Ino are you—“
“Watch it, billboard brow,” Ino snarled. Sakura recoiled. Well, there goes that interaction.
“No, you watch it, Ino-pig,” Sakura snipped back, marveling at how easy it was to fight. Definitely, easier than facing the truth.
Ino looked at her as if she was waiting for Sakura to say something. Breathe Sakura. Again, the familiar anger at Ino was absent. Sakura pushed the discomfort away. She brushed herself up and started browsing for labels. She found wooden tags as well as materials for processing and storing herbs.
Her mind whirred. She fell back into their banter easily. Yesterday a supposed restart but so was the forest of death. Hollow wants and broken promises. That was what, when it came down to it, she reduced herself to. She bit her lip. Another slip up. Still, she trained her eyes on the door, unwilling to admit defeat.
Ino tracked her movements as Sakura checked out.
Sakura needed to get out. When the doors shut, tension seeped out of her. Next destination: library. In her academy days, she’d lived there. Ironically, she abandoned books after graduation. Marks scarred her hands. Teeth punctured her bottom lip. Sakura kept walking.
The library was dust and solitude. The smell of scrolls hit her with nostalgia. Feeling worthless, needing recognition—needing Sasuke. The stacks used to be home. She knew the smell, the feeling. She knew this. The system was identical and soon she returned with five scrolls on the basics of chakra. For the basis of their jutsu, it was rarely mentioned as what it was: an energy. It needed to be coaxed into different forms, built, and acknowledged. The pathways, techniques, and exercises reached her. Chakra could be incorporated into her training. It could be shaped and refined. She thought of the beating heart of chakra at Nara’s forest heart. It’s not a means to an end. It’s a relationship. A world she could live in.
The textbooks thought differently. Her books were mainly on expanding reserves or improving control. She touched her forehead to the scroll. Why couldn’t they understand the underlying challenge was building a relationship with chakra itself?
Quickly, she corrected herself. I'm only a twelve year old civilian. If my way was right it’d be sitting with the scrolls. Still. The thought lingered. It couldn’t hurt to try?
Gadging her reserves and control was the first step. She would make training plans for each. Then, sensing chakra and knowing her chakra coils intimately would improve that relationship. She thought back to the forest, the connection. Her shoulders squared; she walked to Nara forest.
Maybe, she would never catch up to Team Seven but she would do this. Naruto had his reserves. Sasuke had his Sharingan. Clanless, she had nothing. Nothing but chakra. This will be my ninja way. It’s my only tool, there’s no choice but to wield it well.