Chapter Text
The moon is full tonight, shining brightly through her bedroom window in a pool of silver. Down below, Konohagakure sleeps peacefully, its residents blissfully unaware that one among them cannot so easily turn in for the night. Sakura sighs, staring at the piece of paper in her lap, and the words written in bold at the top: Exam Application. The Chunin Exams, for anyone who longs to surpass the rookie genin level and try their hand at a professional shinobi career—or something like that. Truthfully, she isn’t sure what she personally has to gain from the experience.
Sakura sets the application down on the bed, swinging her legs over the side. A curtain of long black hair falls over her shoulder; she pauses, and then she turns, locking eyes with her reflection in the mirror a few feet away. Painted in the pale, soft glow of the moon, she looks like a ghost, she thinks, studying herself in the glass. This late at night, safe in the privacy of her own room, she sometimes lets her false face slip away. Besides, she’s locked the door.
It’s the real Sakura staring back at her tonight, the one that’s marred her in a monster’s image since birth. Her appearance is a stark contrast to the plain night gown she wears to bed: chalky-white skin, long, inky dark hair and golden, slit eyes framed in purple points. I am a ghost, she thinks dully, and her stomach tightens. The ghost of a man haunting her from afar. The ghost of her father.
Sakura watches as her mouth thins and lies limp in a deflated scowl. All the traits are there, down to the broad forehead…except where extreme chakra manipulation and strength ought to be, there…isn’t. Sakura can’t do any of the things Orochimaru can—or assumes he can, based on texts she’s come across and fragments of childhood memories. That cold glare and venomous voice are burned so deeply into her psyche, she’s taken him at his word either way. Her father runs all of Sound Country for a reason, and what does his daughter do to uphold his image? She can stick to trees. She can substitute herself with logs. She can throw stars and kunai and maybe, just maybe, she’ll hit a target. Otherwise, she’d better hope one of the boys is paying attention and comes to her aid. Sakura, in all of her glory, is the tag-along sidekick of her genin squad…and Kakashi-sensei thinks she’s ready for the next level?
The knot in her brow deepens. She can see her application through the glass as well, lying in wait beneath her window. Of course, she’s already filled it out. If there is anything Sakura excels at, it’s the written word. In another life, she’s probably a teacher, or maybe some high-profile ninja’s assistant. As if I’d be so lucky. Sakura’s never really thought about what to do when she grows up. She’s grown up with only one real objective in mind: find an Uchiha. Befriend the Uchiha. Bring one home. Home... For the last seven years of her life, this place, this village, has been her home. To everyone in it, she’s simply Sakura Haruno: the ordinary, pink-haired daughter of an ordinary shinobi family. Does anyone even remember she’s adopted? I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t. There’s nothing particularly memorable about the Sakura this village knows: she’s just another genin…and genin, at least ordinary ones, aspire for chunin status.
Sakura glances at the paper again. She knows Sasuke is going to apply. That’s a no-brainer. He told them early on that he’s got lethal objectives in mind, down the road. Her father would probably delight in that, but the thought makes her skin crawl, and she pushes it aside. Naruto will absolutely apply, although how well he’ll fill out the form, she can only guess. He’s so hell-bent on this whole being Hokage thing, he’d probably submit it half-finished if he has to. The thought’s almost admirable, or would be, if she hadn’t been such a stickler for rules and dedication…but is it dedication, she wonders, tugging at the ends of her hair (she can do that, she’s learned, in the privacy of her own room. No one can see her weakness behind these walls.) What does Sakura want when this is all said and done?
Sakura’s eyes slowly trail back up to meet those of her reflection once more. Gradually (reluctantly,) she brings her hands together, moving through hand-signs with the fluid ease of muscle memory. In a moment’s notice, her true self fades away and its aquamarine eyes that stare back at her now, Aquamarine eyes, rosy cheeks and layers and layers of vibrant pink hair.
It doesn’t matter what she wants. She should know this by now. Orochimaru left her here for one reason, and that reason is signing up for the chunin exams. Like it or not, ready or not, if something happens to her father’s new host body, he’ll never let her live it down. Literally, she thinks, and the word chills her to the bone. She’ll have to find a way to keep up with the boys. There’s no other choice.