Chapter Text
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
―
It was on an uncharacteristically normal day, that Sakura had the first one of many realizations to come.
It was in the aftermath of one of their dumb in-village D-rank missions that Sakura first realized that maybe....she wasn't strong enough. not diligent enough. not taking her profession seriously enough. It was a quiet whisper of a realization, an unarticulated and unspoken comprehension that would settlein her bones and in her stomach, and it was a bitter as bile on her tongue.
Konoha’s Genin Corps was overloaded and short-staffed, so genin teams had been drafted into helping with the courier duties normally assigned to the corps.
Team 7 were immediately split up, an armful of scrolls was dropped into their arms, and gruff orders given by a tired-looking corps member to get moving. Kakashi-sensei had - as usual - absconded after dropping them off at the Missions Office - inattentive and perhaps even irresponsible as always. Something in her cringed at the thought of even thinking ill of a sensei, but... a month since graduation and the man hadn't exactly proved himself a capable or even interested instructor.... at least not interested in her. It hadn't seemed like a bad mission and at least they weren't attempting to catch that menace of a cat, Tora, again. The first few trips across the village had been fine, the delivery swift and chipper, as she had woken up in a good mood. The assumption of a seemingly simple, and non-messy job further bolstering her sunny disposition.
However, it only took a few hours before the exhaustion had set in and derived her of every last bit of her good mood. Her hair was a mess, pink strands glued to her face and constantly kept getting in the way as she ran through the districts of Konoha. The back of her pretty red dress was wet with perspiration, which was disgusting and her legs were grey with dust sticking to her skin. The midday sun beat down on her face and burned at her cheeks, she could taste the salt of her sweat, which was also disgusting and to make it worse, she could feel the familiar sting of blisters beginning to form under her toes.
The same pinch-faced guy from that morning huffed, the pull of his lips mocking, when she returned from her last trip. The recipient was supposed to have been at the Tower, but had in fact been all the way out by the Nara Compound napping instead, and so Sakura had been forced to run around like a harried head-less chicken until forced to ask around to find him. By the time of her return, the young kunoichi was clearly flagging, and the young career-genin was eyeing her trembling legs and messed up hair with barely-concealed derision. A bit pre-occupied and too tired to be analysing the look on his face, she uselessly tried to make her hair look somewhat presentable and wished she'd thought to bring a hairtie - because right then, all she wanted was to cut the whole exasperating mess off and good riddance!
Breathing heavily, Sakura leaned against the cool wall, enjoying the short respite from the harsh rays of the sun, downed several unladylike gulps of water from her flask and hurriedly chewed through a tasteless ration bar, hoping to regain a bit of energy. Still exhausted and aching, though feeling somewhat better after eating, she glanced at the sun to gauge the time. The kunoichi’s shoulders dropped with the realization, that she still had hours to go before she could collapse in her bed or even think about a shower. Ugh.
“Who and where to next?” Sakura asked, breath still somewhat laboured but smiling feebly to the twenty-something genin, who was tasked with supervising them for the day. “Yamanaka Inoichi-sama, T&I division. It’s not urgent or classified, so you can just hand it in at the reception.” The genin droned, hardly bothering to even glance at her before handing over the scroll. Dropping it into her messenger bag, she wondered idly in the back of her mind - what was his name again? had he even introduced himself to her or her team, when they had showed up that morning? it felt weird to refer to him as 'that genin' or 'the man' but then again, it would also be rude to ask again, implying she hadn't listened earlier...hmm
Dismissing her idle thoughts, and thanking him, ever-polite and proper just as mama raised her to be, she turned on her heel to leave and had only just gotten out the door, when she heard him drawl to his colleague:”Saa~, standards for jounin teams must’ve really dropped since my graduation." Her breath stuck in her throat, stomach dropping to her feet with the clear understanding that he was talking about her. “The kid can’t even handle courier duty, how the hell will she ever handle the field or actual missionwork?” There was no malice in the statement, a little bit of bitterness perhaps, but no cruelty or mocking lilt. It was the lack of malice, the simple factuality that hurt so bad. She was used to bullies, had learned to disregard their cruel taunts, but this dispassionate statement from an absolute stranger stopped her in her tracks.
Shoulders tight with tension, drawn up to her ears and face burning with humiliation, Sakura grit her teeth and clutched the bag she'd been about to throw over her shoulder. No tears appeared though, or at least not until another replied, scorn blatant in the tone of his voice:” Not even good enough for the Corps. Bet you she’ll get dropped from her team, dither unassigned for a bit, retire and go back to being a civvie.” That had her tearing up, and Sakura wished, wished that she had the confidence to storm back in and tell them they were wrong. But her throat was so tight, she could hardly swallow and so, the kunoichi forced herself to keep going, one foot in front of the other, left, right, left – don’t fucking cry! You’re not a child anymore, do not!- Their words still ringing in her ears, the pre-teen forced herself to put it aside for later and keep working. stay focused. be professional.
-
A few hours later found her standing on shaky legs, a few feet from her team, neither boy looking unruffled or even winded. At 1700 hours, they had all returned to the Missions Office to receive their pay and were hanging out in the shade. Side-eyeing the orange-dressed member of her team, she supposed his energetic state wasn't that surprising, he always had seemingly too much energy to handle.....but even Sasuke-kun looked unbothered and like he could comfortably go train for another five hours – which he probably would, obsessed and diligent as he was.
In comparison, the sole girl of their team felt exhaustion ache in her very bones. Her hair was a mess, and clung to her forehead, the sides of her face and even the back of her neck. The salt of her perspiration was drying and beginning to itch something awful. Her leg muscles burned with exertion and lactic acid, the now full-fledged blisters on the pads of her big toes, under the arch of her left foot and at the back of both her heels were threatening to burst. There was not a single inch of her body that didn't hurt.
Kakashi-sensei had only bothered to show up just as they was dismissed by the officer manning the desk, he’d glanced at them over the top of his book, hummed a nonchalant ‘good job’ and disappeared off to wherever socially awkward, emotionally stunted jounin went in their spare time. The boys were squabbling as always, Naruto proclaiming that obviously he had delivered more scrolls than the teme had, Sasuke-kun then snorted condescendingly, “As if, dobe.” …..……..and they were brawling again.
Sakura stared at them, torn between marveling at the sheer amount of energy they still had and screaming at them to for once behave like the legal adults they were, and be quiet! Her head was pounding, her stomach trying to devour itself and couldn't they for once just....act reasonable. She stared at them for a good minute or so, veridian eyes unseeing as the words of the older genin from earlier rang in her ears. ‘Can’t even handle courier duty, how’s she gonna handle the field?’ and it hurt, because he wasn't wrong.
Missions could easily last for several days, if not months and of course she would have to run for hours at a time to accomplish them one day. It was expected that she would have the stamina for that.... which she clearly didnt, since something as simple as courier duty had her wrung out and so exhausted she could cry.
‘-dropped from her team’ the other had said, and Sakura swallowed, anxiety curling like a snake in her stomach, because that was a possibility she’d forgotten about. Jounin-sensei had every right to demote incapable or unmotivated students down to the Genin Corps. Not everyone was fated for the field or for mission work, and were sent directly to T&I or R&D for internships, but once an instructor had dropped you from a genin team, that was the end of the line. Of course, a genin couldn't be dropped without good justification, but once dropped, you were stuck as a career-genin like those twenty-something guys from earlier. The pick-haired kunoichi shuddered, eyes still black as she saw herself in her mind's eye, doing D-ranks and running courier missions in village for the rest of her teenage years. Eventually she'd get bored, frustrated and just quit.
‘Retire and go back to being a civvie.’ Sakura almost flinched at the mere thought. Her mother would be pleased if she did that. Her only daughter would go back to being ladylike and pretty, the kind of daughter her mother had dreamed of and wished for – not the stubborn child who’d demanded to join the Academy, had been indulged with the expectation that she would grow bored, give up and return to her rightful and proper path in life.
Anxiety turned to nausea as she could see her potential future as a civilian play out. More classes on tea-ceremony, flower-arranging and appreciation of poetry. Her mother would have her married to some wealthy, insipid man, perhaps a lesser noble, but most probably a merchant but certainly a civilian – as soon as she turned sixteen, Sakura would be bound to hearth and home, birthing children, doing mindless household chores and gossiping with airheaded civilians about who had married who, and had she heard that the couple down the street was getting divorced, the husband had been unfaithful with a prostitute of all things! it was scandalous!
Sakura shook her head to clear away the images her mind had conjured, mouth dry and face pale, hands clenching the fabric of her dress so forcefully it hurt. Dropping her chin to her chest, she caught sight of her hands and it was the sight of them that really drove it home for her. Staring at her pale and soft hands, unblemished, moisturized and worst of all delicate – these were the hands of a civilian. A pampered girl's hands, a girl who had never had to do anything for herself, who need not even do chores or cook for herself. What kind of shinobi had hands like her? Kakashi-sensei’s hands were big, calloused, and rough. Naruto’s hands were not that bad, but even he had hands that told of practice. Sasuke-kun had pale delicate-looking hands like she did, but he unlike her, had callouses and thin scars from shuriken and kunai – his hands told a clear story of diligent and daily practice…while she had hands like…like a princess.
The contrast between her and her team was clear. The difference in power, in stamina, in skill and even in their diligence in training was so very vast, it seemed like the enormity of an entire ocean separated them. She was so far behind, she could hardly comprehend it. She wasn't looking at their backs, they were so far in front of her, that she could hardly see them.
The realization, the unspoken knowledge that she was not good enough, wasn’t working hard enough, was like a kick in the teeth. Sakura was smart, she hardly had to study for tests and all she needed to do to get praise and high marks was to listen to Iruka-sensei - she was used to coasting along on talent. Her katas and forms were crisp and all-right, but all-right wasn't good enough anymore, was it?
Glancing up, she found the boys still scuffling, confirminer that her thought process hadn’t lasted that long, after all. A moment passed, and Sakura wondered if they would even hear her say goodbye…
Too tired, and feeling defeated-useless-weak, Sakura decided she couldn’t be bothered and simply turned and left. Neither of the boys even realized she left or at least, neither of them bothered yelling goodbye.
-
The kunoichi dragged her tired body back to the civilian district, mumbled a lackluster 'tadaima' to an empty house, then showered and ate the leftovers in the fridge. At last she lay sprawled across the covers of her bed, and tried to fall asleep despite the words of the career-genin still ringing in her ears, trying to dispel the images her mind had provided at the thought of a civilian future, that Sakura got angry. She had been too tired earlier, too exhausted, overwhelmed and wrung out to even muster the energy for that kind of emotion. But now, hours later, laying in her bed, she gnashed her teeth and sneered at the thought that she wasn’t good enough, that she would never be good enough, at the prospect of being a submissive little housewife and at the idea of being kicked from her team for incompetence or lack of skill. Fuck that.
Resolving herself to be better, the kunoichi only managed to fall asleep as she swore to herself that she would prove them wrong. There would be no genin corps, no retirement nor a stupid civilian husband in her future. That asshole of a career-genin would lose that bet, she’d make sure of it. One day, he would eat his words and regret it.