Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sakura Haruno wasn’t a girl.

He wasn’t one when he was born, and he certainly wasn’t one on his fourth birthday, months before entering the academy.

Sakura Haruno wasn’t a girl, and yet his parents named him as if he were. So, logically, he dressed like one—because otherwise, Mom and Dad would get angry.

Not that Sakura ever complained, of course. Clothes had never really mattered to him, and in his clan, people were always named after plants or flowers, so being called Sakura wasn’t that big of a deal. He guessed his pink hair didn’t really help his case either, but that was fine because he loved his hair and liked that they let him keep it long instead of cutting it like the other boys.

Besides, it only made sense to assume that eventually, people would realize that he was actually a he, and all the nonsense about being treated like a girl would blow over. Then no one would even remember it, right?

…Right?

Sakura Haruno wasn’t a girl, but he had trusted too much and allowed himself to be treated as one, believing people would notice the mistake sooner or later—and in the innocence of a child, he had unknowingly sealed his own fate. Still, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Four-year-old children, even when they’re as smart as Sakura was, generally don’t understand the kind of consequences that something so small can cause.

“You’re so pretty, Sakura-chan,” his mother said with a sweet smile. “Your hair is such a beautiful color.”

Sakura blinked as his mother brushed his hair. His eyes were fixed on his textbook, reading about chakra theory, memorizing everything he could and storing questions in his mind.

“You’ll be the prettiest girl in the clan when you grow up,” his mom praised.

Sakura frowned slightly. “But I’m a boy, Mom,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “So I’ll be handsome, not pretty.”

Sakura Haruno wasn’t a girl—but in the eyes of the world, and in the eyes of his parents, he was. And there was nothing he could do about it, even as he began to realize, at age five, that he didn’t like being treated that way.

Sakura grimaced as he felt a painful tug on his hair. “Never…” his mother began to say, “ever say something like that again, Sakura.”

The green eyes—eyes just like his own—looked at him with a mixture of emotions that made him feel very small and very helpless. His eyes filled with tears as the pain in his scalp throbbed from the sharp yank his mother had given him.

“Why?” he asked. And he felt the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Listen to me carefully, Sakura-chan.” His mother’s gaze softened. “In our clan, all firstborn children are born as girls. Since its founding, only girls have been born first. They bring good fortune. They are the daughters of spring, blessed by the gods. Being born a girl is a good thing…”

“But I didn’t…”

“Yes.” His mother looked at him with sadness. “You didn’t. You were born a boy. A misfortune. Boys are only born when the clan is about to suffer a great tragedy. The last time a firstborn was male, the clan was cursed with the fracturing of its soul. We were never able to recover from that.”

“Am I a misfortune?”

“Yes, you are,” his mother replied without hesitation. And Sakura felt an awful feeling grow in his chest. “And that is why, Sakura, you must live your life as a girl. Because the day they discover you’re not, the misfortune that falls upon our lives—and the clan—will be your fault. So you must keep being a girl, Sakura-chan. Or do you want to see mommy and daddy die because of you?”

The words pierced his heart like a bleeding wound that could never heal properly. His eyes spilled tears as he tried to process them, feeling guilt bloom in his chest for a sin he hadn’t even known he’d committed.

“I’m sorry, mother.” He apologized. “I didn’t mean to be born a boy.”

“I know, my little one,” his mother said sweetly. “But you were, and the damage is already done.”

Sakura sobbed, feeling like a terrible person just for being born. Why had he been born a boy? Now everyone was going to suffer because of him. Just because he was born this way. Stupid, stupid Sakura. Bad Sakura. He should never have been born a boy.

“How can I fix it, mommy?” His voice was scared, broken by crying, filled with a guilt no child his age should ever carry.

“You must atone for your sins, Sakura-chan,” his mother answered gracefully. Her hands began to softly comb through his hair again.
“You must live as a woman for the rest of your days or, in the worst case, die young and far from the clan so that no one ever learns what you’ve done.”

Die young or live the rest of his life as someone he wasn’t. Neither was a choice Sakura wanted, but he knew he had no right to complain after what he had done.

“It’s a blessing that you were accepted into the academy,” his mother went on. “Because once you become a kunoichi, at least you’ll be able to choose the way you die. At least there will be honor and joy in your death, and you won’t die in complete disgrace knowing the clan has suffered again because of you.”

“Yes, mommy,” Sakura cried.

Sakura Haruno wasn’t a girl, but he had to be. Because being a boy was a disgrace, a curse, and to atone for his sins he had to become something he wasn’t, even if it hurt. Even if it only brought him pain. But that was fine—Sakura had accepted it. Because being born a boy was his fault, and he had to make it right.

Because making things right had always been a Haruno’s duty, whether it was their fault or not.

Chapter Text

The morning was unusually cold that day, Sakura thought as he curled up in bed. He didn’t feel like getting up yet.

“Sakura!” His mother’s voice echoed through the house. “Get up already! You’re going to be late!”

Sakura let out a low sigh, his cheek still pressed against the pillow. For a moment longer, he allowed the warmth of the sheets to hold him, as if they could stop time.

Today would be the day he’d be assigned a team.

Today he would stop being a student.

Today he would legally become an adult.

And yet, he felt the same.

Shouldn’t it feel different?

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. His pink hair fell messily over his shoulders, and for some reason he couldn’t explain, he thought of Ino. She was probably already ready hours ago, with her blonde hair tied in that perfect bun, her sky-blue eyes accentuated with makeup that made them stand out, and that stupid confident smile that looked prettier in the morning than it had any right to be.

Sakura pressed his lips together. “Stupid pig,” he muttered, insulting the girl as if she could hear him.

He walked across the room and looked at the red dress hanging on the closet door. Sakura sighed, eyeing the dress on the bed with distaste. He had thought maybe—just maybe—he could avoid wearing it this time, naively hoping they’d give him a little more freedom now that he would be considered a legal adult.

They hadn’t.

Almost as if it were part of some inevitable ritual, his fingers brushed over the crimson fabric. It was soft to the touch—too soft for his liking—and it still held the faint vanilla scent his mother insisted on using whenever she washed his clothes. Sakura held it up in front of himself for a moment, staring at the carefully embroidered edges, the tight seams tailored to fit his slender figure. It was a pretty dress. Elegant, even. One that would probably look lovely on someone else.

But not on him.

Not when all he could feel, looking at it, was the echo of a lie he’d been forced to wear like a second skin.

He sighed again. And then again. As if he could exhale his feelings hard enough to empty himself inside. To become light, harmless, bearable.

While dressing, he noticed how tight the sleeves had become. He’d grown. Not by much, but enough. Had the others grown too? Would Naruto show up with that dumb face of his even though he hadn’t passed? Would Kiba be there with Akamaru? And Sasuke...?

He froze, hands clutching the dress fabric.

Sasuke.

His brows furrowed with frustration.

“SAKURA!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he shouted back, rushing down the stairs while tying his ninja headband into his hair.

His mother looked at him disapprovingly, but Sakura barely registered the scolding. He stepped outside and the cold air bit at his cheeks, forcing him to quicken his pace.

The walk to the academy felt longer than usual. Not because of the distance, but because of the looks. They were always there—subtle but sharp like needles: the condescending smiles of the few who hadn’t left the clan to live as nomads, the uncomfortable glances from some of the parents, the curious eyes of children who didn’t understand why their parents whispered that they shouldn’t play too much with her—because she was a shinobi, and shinobi were unstable.

Sakura said nothing. He held his head high, just like he’d been taught, with straight shoulders and an upright back, the dress fluttering gently. His body moved with the perfect mix of graceful softness and feminine dignity, looking like a wilted flower trying to keep blooming through discipline.

At the entrance to the classroom, he could glimpse his classmates. Iruka stood before them, speaking. Sakura hesitated. Maybe he could just wait outside?

“It’s time to announce your new genin teams,” Iruka declared. “Team One will consist of... Sakura, where do you think you’re going?”

Sakura turned around. There was nervousness in his eyes.

“Ah, sensei... you see…” But he went silent when the man pointed to a seat—right next to Kiba. He moved obediently toward it, sliding into place.

“Well, someone has to be in Sasuke-kun’s group. I wonder who,” he heard Ino say from a few rows ahead, sitting between a bored-looking Sasuke Uchiha and a rather bruised Uzumaki Naruto.

“It definitely won’t be that pig,” Sakura muttered, annoyed.

Kiba, beside him, snickered. “Jealous?”

“Ugh.” Sakura spat. But there was a red tint on his ears that made the boy laugh. He leaned against Kiba, his hands catching Akamaru and curling the pup into his arms.

Kiba was the only one who knew Sakura wasn’t really a girl. He had found out when they were seven years old, after catching his scent and then walking in on him peeing in the forest. He’d promised to keep the secret in exchange for training together and getting favors—somehow solidifying a strong friendship that always left Ino irritated, as she couldn’t understand why Sakura spent time with that loud, smelly mutt.

Kiba was also his only friend, much to his mother’s pride—she saw a potential future engagement with one of the strong clans of Konoha as a good thing.
A complete nonsense, in Sakura’s opinion, because he was quite sure he didn’t want to marry a boy. And because Kiba had no interest in marrying anyone ever, claiming it was his sister’s job as the future matriarch of the Inuzuka clan.

“Who would you want on your team?” he asked Kiba, resting his head on his shoulder. The scent of dog, herbs, and dirt flooded his nose.

“Objectively? I think it’d be best to have a team that complements my skills.” A mischievous smile played on his lips. “But it’d also be great to be on the same team as a smart-ass like you. I’d be the muscles and you the brains—bet we’d kick a lot of ass!” A cheerful laugh escaped his lips, which he quickly stifled when he noticed Iruka-sensei’s warning glare.

Sakura liked Kiba, especially because he could act like a boy around him—be rude, silly, or improper—and find that his friend was even worse.
And the best part? His mother didn’t even scold him if she knew he was with Kiba.

Sakura looked up at him, mimicking his smile. “Mhm, sure.” He teased, rolling his eyes playfully and elbowing him. “Because nothing sounds better than having to save your dumb ass every time.”

“As if you don’t love saving my amazing ass.” Kiba shot back, elbowing him harder. Sakura elbowed him even harder in return. “Oh, you little piece of—”

“Team Three,” Iruka continued. He cleared his throat and shot them another warning look. “Will be made up of…”

Kiba and Sakura waited a few moments before Kiba began murmuring, “You’d think that by now he’d finally separate us, put us on opposite sides of the room or something.”

“Maybe he didn’t because last time we ended up throwing paper planes across the classroom. And then using Akamaru as a messenger.” Sakura reminded him, amused.

Iruka cleared his throat again, and the murmuring in the classroom faded.

“Team Seven,” he announced, and Sakura felt his stomach twist. He hadn’t been called yet, so there was still a chance he’d end up with them. “Will be composed of: Uzumaki Naruto…”

“Yes!” Naruto jumped so high he almost knocked over a desk.

“…Uchiha Sasuke…”

A wave of murmurs swept through the classroom. Several girls sighed. The boys—Kiba and Sakura included—rolled their eyes. Sasuke didn’t even flinch.

“And Haruno Sakura.”

Sakura froze.

For a moment, he heard nothing. Everything felt muted. Not the shriek Ino let out upon realizing she wasn’t on Sasuke’s team, nor Naruto’s even louder shriek for having ended up with him. Only the sound of his own breathing, uneven, and the slight tremble in his fingers as he intertwined them over his lap.

Why with him?

He knew lots of people wanted to be with Sasuke—especially the girls—but not Sakura.

Sakura avoided him.

Sakura hated him, even if he wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe because Sasuke represented everything Sakura could never be, or everything others expected him to adore.
Or because Ino stopped being his friend because of him (it was definitely partly that). It was like Sasuke’s very existence pushed Sakura to detest him deeply.

“Oh, great.” Kiba muttered with a raised brow, though his eyes held a trace of disappointment. “You get the problem children. The brooding loner and the screaming clown. Good luck not dying within a week.” He patted his back with sympathy.

Sakura didn’t react right away, as if his brain needed to reboot after getting past the violent thoughts aimed at the Uchiha.

Naruto and Sasuke. On the same team. And with him.

Sakura dropped his head onto the desk. Kiba’s hand caught him just in time to stop what would’ve been a painful thud.

“What a nightmare.”

Kiba’s name was called by Iruka, followed by Hinata Hyuga and Shino Aburame.

Sakura looked at him. Kiba was looking back—not with his usual mocking or wild grin, but with a small, dim smile. And Sakura thought he looked like a sad puppy who wouldn’t get to be with his favorite person.

Something tightened in Sakura’s chest. “You’re going to be fine,” he whispered, low enough that only Kiba could hear. “Hyuga and Aburame are good.”

Kiba didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shrugged. “I know. I’m just worried you won’t survive without me.”

Sakura snorted and gave him a light kick in the leg. “I’m stronger than I look, idiot.”

Suddenly, Naruto Uzumaki’s voice rose, distracting both Sakura and Kiba from their little game of jabs. “Iruka-sensei! Why does a great ninja like me have to be on the same team as a slug like Sasuke?”

“Sasuke had the highest grades of all the graduates. Naruto, you had the worst!” Iruka scolded, prompting laughter from the class. “To make balanced teams, we paired the top student with the worst.”

Sakura absently wondered what that meant about him. Then he thought maybe he was just there as cannon fodder, being the child of civilians. It was a depressing thought, and it made him want to punch something.

“Just don’t get in my way, loser,” came Sasuke’s cold voice, snapping Sakura out of his thoughts.

“Grrr… What did you say?!” Naruto shouted.

“Are you hard of hearing?” Sasuke replied.

Sakura shuddered and sighed again. “What a nightmare,” he muttered, and Kiba burst out laughing at that.

“Ahem,” Iruka called the class to attention. “After lunch, you’ll meet your new Jonin instructors. Until then, class is dismissed.”

Sakura grabbed his bag, moving alongside Kiba as they left the classroom.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto caught up to him. “Wanna have lunch together so we can get to know each other better? Since we’re on the same team?”

Sakura blinked. “No, thank you,” he said. But he felt bad when he saw the light fade from Naruto’s eyes. “I have other plans today, but we can eat together some other time, Uzumaki-san.”

“I’ll hold you to that, dattebayo!” Naruto said brightly.

Sakura offered him a polite smile and quickly walked off with Kiba. The two began walking faster and faster, trying to outpace one another to reach their usual lunch spot under the shade of a huge, thick tree.

Sakura glanced at Shino, then at Hinata, who were eating quietly in the distance. He nudged Kiba and leaned in to say, “The Hyuga girl is pretty,” while grabbing an onigiri from Kiba’s bento box.

Kiba let out a laugh. “Didn’t know she was your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” Sakura replied.

“Sure you do. You like loudmouths with oversized egos, blue eyes, and blond hair.”

Sakura narrowed his eyes at him and threw a piece of sausage, which Akamaru intercepted mid-jump. “Jerk.”

Kiba stuck out his tongue.

Sakura huffed, biting into her onigiri aggressively.

"What are you gonna do when you meet your new sensei?" Kiba asked, his mouth full of rice and fish, while Akamaru nibbled on his dog treats.

"Probably ask him to kill me before I end up murdering those two idiots myself." Sakura bit into the onigiri again, with less enthusiasm than before. The shade under the tree didn’t feel as refreshing as it usually did. The wind carried the echo of laughter from other students, and for some reason, everything sounded more distant, more foreign.

Kiba gave him a light knock on the head with his knuckles. "You could at least pretend you're excited. You’re a real ninja now, not just a student."

"Oh, yeah. So exciting," he rolled his eyes. Then lowered his voice, almost like it hurt to admit. "I don’t know if I’m ready to work with them, Kiba. I mean, I can’t even tell them about that. Neither of those morons is trustworthy, which means I’ll have to handle everything myself again."

"You could always move in with me. We wouldn't see each other as often, but we’d still hang out, and your burden would be lighter. You know my mom and sister know about that, and they’re happy to help."

Sakura offered a small smile. "Thanks for the offer, but you know how I feel about that."

"Have you seen that idiot Naruto?" A familiar voice cut into their conversation.

Sakura and Kiba looked up.

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura asked, the suffix slipping out by habit from all the times he’d used it mockingly to annoy and argue with Ino.

"Naruto. Have you seen him?" Sasuke repeated brusquely.

"Naruto? Why are you...?" Sakura was smart, so he sighed. "Has that idiot caused trouble again?" he asked, curious.

"When is he not causing trouble?" Kiba scoffed.

Sakura burst out laughing.

"Ugh. He was raised wrong." He shared a look with Kiba, knowing his friend thought the same. Naruto could at least learn to hide better when he pulled his stunts—like they did.
"He’s never had parents, so no one ever taught him how to behave in certain situations."

If Naruto had had parents, maybe he would’ve learned how to lie low when misbehaving—or at the very least, how not to stand out if he wanted to cause trouble.

Sakura took another bite of his onigiri, as if he could chew his discomfort along with the rice. His gaze wandered toward the sky, distracted. Sasuke still stood in front of them, arms crossed, wearing that neutral expression that always seemed one breath away from disdain.

"That idiot doesn’t think before acting," Sakura said finally. "He’s always yelling, making noise, provoking everyone. It’s like he needs constant attention just to remember he exists." He tilted his head slightly, as if reconsidering his own words. "He doesn’t know how to be quiet. Or how to be alone."

Kiba shot him a warning look, but Sakura didn’t notice.

"He probably doesn’t even understand how things work. He just plays the clown so people will look at him, but he’s never really had to deal with being scolded for real—for causing trouble and acting out. Makes you wonder if he’s like that because he has no parents."

Sometimes Sakura wished he didn’t have a father... or a mother. Maybe then he could act like a normal boy and not have to hide behind masks and clothes that weren’t his. He knew his life would be very different if he didn’t have parents—or at the very least, if he had parents who were different.

"That... and the loneliness." Sasuke’s voice was razor-sharp, cutting through whatever mental haze had let Sakura speak so freely.

"What?"

"Getting scolded by your parents doesn’t even compare!"

"What the hell are you talking about now, Uchiha?" Sakura asked, confused, a rough edge to his voice.

Sasuke looked at him like it took effort to hold back. His dark eyes were deep as bottomless pits, and in that moment, cold as the frost Sakura had felt in the air that very morning. But his voice, when he spoke, was the opposite—it burned. Not in volume, but in what simmered beneath it.

"You say Naruto acts like that because he has no parents. Like it’s an excuse. Like you understand." His words were dry, sharp. "But you have no idea what it means to be alone. Truly alone."

Sakura fell silent. Something in his voice froze him. Beside him, even Kiba stiffened, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"Not having parents isn’t a game. It’s not an excuse. It’s a hole that follows you every day. It’s waking up with no one to scold you. Eating alone. Sleeping alone. Living with the knowledge that there’s no one else but you." He leaned in, as if the weight of his words needed to dig deeper. "So don’t you dare talk about it like you understand. You have no idea what it’s like to lose everything."

A silence followed. Dense. Unmovable.

The wind ruffled his hair and shirt, somehow making him look even more intimidating.

"You... You disgust me!" Sasuke spat.

Kiba frowned and stood up, stepping between them as if he instinctively felt the need to get in the way. "Back off, Uchiha." His voice wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t friendly either. Akamaru bared his teeth in warning. "You didn’t have to say it like that."

Sasuke looked at them both. Then, he simply turned his gaze away, as if it wasn’t worth arguing any further. He turned around and walked off without another word.

Sakura stared at his back until he disappeared among the trees. Then, he looked back down at the onigiri, but he wasn’t hungry anymore.

"Are you okay?" Kiba asked, sitting down beside him again. Akamaru came closer and placed a paw on his leg, as if he could feel it too.

Sakura didn’t respond right away. The wind rustled the leaves above them, and for a moment he thought about how that same wind sounded in his room, when he was alone. In that space full of imposed silences and rituals that didn’t belong to him.

Disgusting.

The word echoed in his mind, dragging him back to other times he’d heard it before—but from someone else: his mother. Sakura felt nauseous.

"Do you think he’s right?" he finally murmured, more to himself than to Kiba. "Do I disgust people?"

Kiba looked at him seriously. Not with pity. With that same look he always had when they were in trouble together, when Sakura said he couldn’t go on, but kept going anyway.

"No," he said quietly.

Sakura blinked, surprised by the answer, almost like he’d expected Kiba to say yes despite knowing his friend had never thought that about him. The lump in his throat didn’t loosen.

"But...?" he pushed, more out of need than courage. His fingers crushed the paper around the onigiri.

"No ‘buts’," Kiba said. "There are no buts in this. I mean, yeah, maybe you went too far with what you said about Naruto. He can be a dumbass, but so can you sometimes." Sakura winced. He knew Kiba was right about that. "But what Sasuke said? Total bullshit."

He crossed his arms, and Akamaru jumped into Sakura’s lap, curling up.

"I think Sasuke can’t see past his own crap," the Inuzuka continued. "Who does he think he is, saying something like that to you? He doesn’t know anything about you."

Sakura swallowed hard. He knew that. Of course he did. Kiba was the only one who knew that everything Sakura Haruno represented was a lie.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence that followed was heavy, but not unbearable. Sakura thought about what he had said—those words he’d blurted out about Naruto—and Sasuke’s response, full of rage, yes, but also something that stung.

The wind blew again, lifting the pink strands of his hair. Sakura brushed them from his face with his fingers, pretending that simple motion gave him some control. Some strength.

The bell rang, pulling him from his thoughts.

It was time to meet their new Jōnin Sensei.

Chapter Text

Lunch passed more quickly than he would have liked.

The murmur of the other teams gathered with their respective sensei began to fill the halls. One by one, teammates stood up, some excited, others nervous.

Kiba was sprawled across the desk, Akamaru leaning against his chest as Sakura tied a red ribbon around his leg, with her own ninja emblem sewn on it.

"I'm just saying..." Kiba said, chewing a piece of beef jerky in his hand. "Maybe you should consider adding more meat to your diet."

Sakura scoffed. "And you want me to willingly risk gaining weight?" His mother would kill him before he gained two kilos.

Kiba snorted, visibly offended. "Fat is good! It keeps you warm in the winter."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a dog."

Kiba opened his mouth to say something witty, but Akamaru took the opportunity to lick his face and steal the jerky from his hand. Kiba snorted indignantly. Sakura laughed, covering his mouth with her hand like a lady would before retying Akamaru's ribbon in a tight, secure knot.

"It won't fall off, will it?" the boy asked, craning his neck to look at the bow.

"Not if you stop him from fighting cats for the rest of the week."

Kiba grunted a little, as if he already knew that was impossible.

Sakura smiled, but she felt a strange feeling in her chest, like something wedged between her ribs, pulling her tightly to a place she didn't want to go. She wanted this moment to last longer, for Kiba to stay there forever, because she feared that distance would take her only friend away from her.

Her and Kiba's teams were the only ones left, which only increased Sakura's anxiety.

"Team 8?" a beautiful woman asked at the door. "I'm your jōnin sensei, Kurenai Yūhi. Ready to go?" Sakura sighed. Kiba let out an exaggerated groan as he stood up to leave, but before taking a step, he turned to Sakura and extended his hand.

Sakura smiled, shaking his hand and beginning their usual goodbye game.

"Try not to get into trouble, doggie," Sakura told him. "My brain won't be there to rescue you."

"Hey," Kiba snorted, amused. "Not that I'd let you be the brain forever. See you, bubblegum head."

Sakura gave a low, forced laugh, and Akamaru groaned as if he felt the farewell too.

He felt awkward once he was alone with Naruto and Sasuke. The minutes dragged on, long and boring, and Naruto kept jumping around, looking for his new sensei.

“Sit down, idiot!” Sakura was uncomfortable and therefore irritated.

“I don’t want to! How come our teacher’s the only one who’s late? All the other groups have already met their new teachers and gone on adventures, and Iruka-sensei’s gone too!”

“So what?” Sakura huffed moodily. He looked up when he heard a noise and saw Naruto standing on a stool at the door, placing a chalkboard eraser between the sliding door and the wall. Narrowing his eyes at him, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“This is what he gets for being late!” Naruto declared as he jumped down from the stool.

“Our teacher’s an elite jōnin. Do you really think he’d fall for that?” Sasuke’s bored eyes studied the childish prank.

“Uchiha’s right.” Sakura’s expression looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon when he said it. “The sensei wouldn’t fall for—”

A hand slid the door open, cutting him off.

Sakura blinked at the man with spiky silver hair swept to one side, a mask covering the lower half of his face, and a headband covering one eye, standing in the doorway. He froze in surprise as the eraser fell right onto his head.

“You totally fell for it!” Naruto burst out laughing. Sasuke didn’t look impressed at all.

The man bent down to pick up the eraser. “Hmm… how to put this?” he murmured thoughtfully. “My first impression of this group: you’re all idiots.”

Sakura stifled a sigh of resignation. He was surrounded by idiots.

Minutes later, they were all up on the rooftop, and Sakura was already feeling hopeless about surviving this team.

“Alright, why don’t you introduce yourselves?” their new teacher drawled, leaning against the school’s roof railing.

“What do you want us to say?” Sakura asked without enthusiasm.

“Things you like, things you hate, dreams for the future, hobbies… stuff like that.”

“Sensei, why don’t you go first and show us how it’s done!” Naruto pressed.

“Fine.” The man began speaking. “I’m Hatake Kakashi. Things I like and things I hate… I don’t feel like telling you. My dreams for the future… I’ve never really thought about it. As for my hobbies, I have lots of them.”

“Useless,” Sakura muttered. He hadn’t told them anything.

“Alright, you on the right. You first.”

“Alright! Believe it! I’m Uzumaki Naruto! I like cup ramen, and I love the ramen Iruka-sensei gets me from Ichiraku’s. But I hate the three minutes you have to wait after pouring the hot water into the cup. My hobby is eating different kinds of ramen and comparing them! And my dream is to become the best Hokage ever! Then the whole village will have to stop disrespecting me and start treating me like someone important!”

Kakashi still looked bored. “Alright. Next.”

“I’m Haruno Sakura,” the pink-haired boy said. “I like sweets and spending time with Kiba and Akamaru. And training at the Inuzuka clan grounds with Kiba and Akamaru.”

Sakura thought for a moment about the things he hated.

“I hate arrogant idiots, when my hair gets damaged, and I definitely hate wearing dresses—especially because they get ruined when I train and then I have to throw them away.” The last part slipped out without much thought, forgetting he was wearing a dress at that very moment. “My hobbies are studying things I’m interested in, gambling, and trying new desserts with Kiba and Akamaru.”

There was a pause.

"And your dream?" Kakashi encouraged him to continue.

"My dream is to die with honor," Sakura replied almost instantly.

Kakashi was a little taken aback. It wasn't the kind of response he expected from a girl her age. Judging by the way she talked about that boy, Kiba, he would have expected something more focused on him or something more superficial. Perhaps some kind of crush, or maybe the idea of being a powerful kunoichi. I expect anything, except for a twelve-year-old girl dreaming of an honorable death.

Kakashi watched Sakura for a moment longer before clearing his throat. His attention shifted to Sasuke. "The last one."

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I hate many things, and I don't like anything in particular. What I have isn't a dream, because I will make it come true. I will restore my clan... and destroy someone."

Sakura blinked, looking at Sasuke with obvious disgust. "You're a pervert," she said.

Was she planning to have children at such a young age? What a pervert Sasuke could be! Sakura couldn't understand why Ino liked that idiot so much.

Sasuke glared at her; Sakura glared back.

"Okay," Kakashi said, breaking the silence the pinkette hadn't noticed. "Everyone is unique and has their own ideas. Tomorrow we'll have our first mission."

Naruto shouted excitedly. "What kind of mission?"

"A survival exercise."

"Survival?" Naruto frowned. "Shouldn't we do real missions first? Like catching bandits or saving princesses or something!"

Kakashi shrugged, maintaining his lazy posture. "That comes later. If you survive tomorrow."

Sakura wasn't sure if he was joking or not, and the way he said it, she chose not to risk asking. "What kind of exercise?" he asked, lowering his arms from his knees to straighten up.

"A test that will decide if you have what it takes to remain a ninja."

Naruto froze. "But we already graduated!"

"Yes, but that doesn't matter to me." Kakashi took a small orange book out of his pocket and opened it, as if he'd suddenly forgotten they were there.
"Of the twenty-seven graduates who came here, only nine will be accepted as Genin. The other eighteen will be expelled and sent back to the academy. In other words, this is a pass-fail exam, and the probability of failing is at least sixty-six percent. So the real test is tomorrow."

"What?!" Naruto roared. "We worked so hard to get here! What was the point of that graduation exam, then?"

“Oh, that? To select candidates who could become Genin. Or not. That's right. I decide whether you pass or fail. Report to the designated training grounds at 5 a.m. And bring your ninja gear.” There was a brief pause. “And don't eat breakfast.”

“Why?” Sakura asked.

“You're going to throw up,” Kakashi replied.

Sakura frowned. Was their sensei going to starve him the way his mother did? Damn it. He was starting to hate the man.

Kakashi vanished in a puff of smoke. 

Naruto stared at the spot where he’d been, baffled. “What the hell was that?”

Sasuke shrugged.

Sakura pointed at them. “You’d better not screw this up tomorrow, or I’ll kill you.”

Naruto swallowed, and for once, didn’t answer with a joke. “Is… is he serious?” he murmured, glancing at Sasuke.

“It always looks like I’m joking, but I’m not,” Sakura replied, arms crossed. He looked at Sasuke. “I don’t like you at all.” His gaze shifted to Naruto. “I tolerate you more than Uchiha only because you’re occasionally a little funny.”

His eyes hardened.

“But I’ll make the effort to be a good teammate while we’re in this squad,” he told them. “So you’d better not ruin it tomorrow. I’m not failing this just because you two couldn’t be decent to each other. And if I fail because of you, I swear I’ll make your lives miserable, and I don’t care if that makes me look like a bitch.”

With that, Sakura turned and strode away in quick, sharp movements. He didn’t want to spend a second more than necessary with those idiots.

The rooftop door slammed shut behind him, and Sakura went down the stairs without looking back. His face was set, but his throat burned. That familiar heat crawled up his chest, the kind that came when holding back tears, or anger, or both.

He didn’t know why he’d said it like that. Why he’d gotten so… intense. Maybe because he actually cared—not just about tomorrow’s test, but about making sure this team, this chance, didn’t turn into another place where he had to hide who he was or apologize for existing. He’d had enough of that at home and everywhere else in the world. He wasn’t going to repeat it here.

He clenched his fists. He was going to become a ninja. A great shinobi. And then he would die with honor, to bring pride to his family and erase the disgrace his birth had brought upon them.

He would do it, even if it meant dragging Naruto and Sasuke in a broken cart all the way to the finish line.

.

.

.

“Mother! Father!” Sakura called as he kicked off his sandals. “I’m home!”

He moved through the house expecting to find the same routine as always, but there was a sepulchral silence inside. He frowned slightly and headed toward the kitchen, hungry, expecting to find his mother. But instead, he only found a note saying they’d had to leave urgently for the Land of Tea for an important business matter and would be back in two weeks.

A bright smile spread across his lips then, and with quick but careful movements he got rid of the dress, tossing it to the floor, left only in his short Lycra shorts as he pulled off that uncomfortable padded sports bra from his chest. Then he practically sprinted to rummage through the fridge to eat everything he could find.

His mother wasn’t there to keep him on a diet, and tomorrow he wouldn’t be able to have breakfast, so tonight he was going to be disgusting about it—he’d eat everything within reach until he was completely satisfied, all while reading one of his favorite romance novels.

Minutes later, Sakura was already chewing with his mouth full, legs crossed on the chair, holding the book open in one hand and a chicken drumstick in the other. The warm kitchen light spilled over his bare shoulders, revealing the faint scars from training with Kiba—scars that all of his mother’s expensive ointments had failed to erase.

The novel was ridiculous. A romance between a medic and a desert ninja who met on a diplomatic mission and ended up trapped in a sandstorm, where of course they had to share a blanket for “hypothermia.”

Sakura snorted mid-bite, chuckling to himself. “This guy doesn’t even know what a uterus is and he’s already promising kids. Just like that bastard Sasuke.”

The thought of Sasuke annoyed him, but he didn’t let it ruin his night. He only rolled his eyes in exasperation and kept reading. Sometimes he needed stories like that. Not because he believed in them, but because they felt distant, unreal, safe—like watching the world through a window without having to be part of it.

At some point in the night, somewhere between his third bag of chips and the second chapter where the desert ninja nearly died from a scorpion sting, Sakura realized he hadn’t felt this at peace in weeks. Without his mother breathing down his neck, without having to lower his voice or measure every step, he could walk through his home as himself. Not as he was supposed to be—just as he was.

He passed by the hallway mirror on his way to the bathroom and stopped.

He looked at himself.

Messy, long pink hair. Flat chest. A strong abdomen, lightly defined from countless hours running with Kiba and sparring against the boys of the Inuzuka clan. Without the dress, without the tight ribbon. His body, still childish for his age—perhaps too thin to be a ninja—but pliable enough to mold into whatever was expected of him.

His gaze lingered on his face. A small nose, rounded cheeks still padded with the baby fat that hadn’t gone away. Green eyes.

That was him.

Just him.

He didn’t smile. This wasn’t a happy scene. But he didn’t look away either. He only raised an eyebrow and murmured, so quietly:

“We survived another day.”

“We did.” That voice spoke again, answering him. A soft, feminine voice, slightly high-pitched but not in an irritating way.

Sakura didn’t know when he had started hearing it—only that it had always been there. A voice that matched his own in every moment of his life, now sounding like that of a twelve-year-old girl because he himself was twelve.

Inner’s voice was unlike any other he had ever heard. It wasn’t just any voice—it carried a particular cadence, a calm certainty in every word. As if she wasn’t learning life alongside him, but remembering it… or, at times, comparing it to something else.

Inner had always known things Sakura didn’t. She always seemed one step ahead. She was his best friend, yes—but also something harder to explain. Sometimes, when she spoke, Sakura had the strange feeling that she wasn’t just keeping him company, but guiding him toward something he had once been… or could have been.

She was his friend. His comfort. His silent instructor. She was the one who got angry for him, who shouted and cursed when Sakura couldn’t. She was the one who made sure to remind him who he was at every moment so he wouldn’t lose himself. And, though he had never told anyone, there were moments—like this one—when Sakura felt that if he had ever been someone else, Inner would know exactly who.

“Why don’t you dress however you want tomorrow?” Inner asked in her high-pitched, sweet little voice. “Wear that pretty outfit you secretly bought with Kiba!”

“Uh.” Sakura blinked. “Should I?” It hadn’t occurred to him.

“Of course!” Inner replied with that boundless energy that always seemed far too bright for the hour it was. “It’s your first day on a team! You should feel like you, right? Not just… dressed up as you.”

Sakura stayed quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “I guess no one’s going to stop me if I show up in actual pants.”

“Exactly.” Sakura could picture Inner nodding with her arms crossed, like she always did when she was sure she was right. “Just don’t forget to eat something before you leave tomorrow.”

“I can’t. Kakashi-sensei said we shouldn’t have breakfast.”

“Well,” Inner shrugged, “no one’s going to know you ate.”

“I’m not going to disobey,” Sakura warned her.

“Yeah, yeah… sure you aren’t,” Inner said, and though her voice was still childlike, there was something strange in it—like she was stifling a laugh. “Well, it’s your call. But don’t come crying when you start seeing blurry halfway through the morning.”

Sakura frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, I’m just guessing. Inner voice instinct!” Inner sang. And then Sakura remembered it had already happened to him once before, so that was probably why she was saying it.

He narrowed his eyes at his reflection in the mirror, hearing Inner laugh. It was hard to be suspicious of a voice that sounded like it was eating imaginary ice cream while talking, but something told him Inner was planning something—and he only hoped she wouldn’t start shouting nonsense during training tomorrow to throw him off, like the last time she laughed like that.

Sakura sighed, fixing his hair before moving toward his room. “Anyway, I doubt tomorrow will be a big deal,” he told her with the arrogant confidence of a child who hadn’t lived enough yet. “It’s just a test, right? And I’m the second smartest guy in my class after Shikamaru, so I’ll definitely pass this training easily.”

“Pfff.” Inner snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… remember something, Sakura.” Inner began to speak. “A team is a team for a reason. It’s not a competition. If you win but the others lose, then you didn’t really win anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sakura asked. But Inner didn’t answer.

The boy didn’t worry too much about it. Inner usually came and went as she pleased, preferring to stay hidden within the walls of his mind unless she found it necessary to come out.

He brushed his teeth, set the book down on the nightstand, and slipped under the covers, stretching his muscles with the lazy ease that only comes when you’re completely alone.

Everything ached, but in a good way—the kind of ache that meant he was alive.

And his last thought before falling asleep was how much he loved being alone.

Chapter Text

Sakura woke up early.

He wasn’t happy about waking up early, but he had to for that first training session with his team. He glanced at the clock and cursed. It was four in the morning.

“I hate Kakashi,” he muttered, moving to his closet to change, rummaging through his clothes until he found what he needed. He dressed quickly, then ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He let out a groan when he saw his hair was a complete mess. Damn it. He was sure that if he left it down, it would probably end up dirty and tangled. And Sakura hated having his hair ruined.

“Should I tie it up this time?” he murmured.

“That’s best,” Inner told him. “Although we could cut it.”

“No, thanks.” Sakura shut that thought down. “I like my hair long.”

He could see Inner shrugging in his mind. Sakura shrugged too and began combing his hair, not entirely sure what kind of bun would be best. He settled on a round bun, leaving a couple of loose strands framing his face to highlight his features and make him look more handsome. Then he tied his forehead protector around his neck.

He checked himself in the mirror one last time before leaving.

Dark gray, loose-cut pants down to the calf, bought specifically to ensure freedom of movement. Underneath, fitted black leggings covered his legs down to his feet, where sturdy-soled blue sandals completed the outfit, ready for any terrain. A loose-fitting burgundy sweatshirt with an open collar, hood, and sleeves to the elbow, made of a light, breathable fabric that allowed for easy movement. On his right thigh, a strapped holster carried mission essentials, with another secured at his hip.

Sakura looked at himself, satisfied. He looked handsome. The clothes were comfortable, nice, and masculine—but somehow he still managed to fake being a girl by wearing that uncomfortable bra underneath.

“Oh my god!” Inner squealed, grinning with excitement. “You’re the most handsome guy in the village!”

Sakura blinked at his reflection, the corners of his lips lifting into a pleased smile. “You think so?” he asked.

Inner nodded rapidly. “Look at that face! And those eyes! Kyaaa! I’m sure even Ino could fall for your beauty!”

Sakura’s cheeks took on a faint blush. “You’re right,” he agreed, strutting a little. “I’m a very handsome guy.”

A laugh escaped his mouth, his self-esteem feeling unusually high that morning. He jumped out the window and ran toward Kiba’s house. After all, he still had time for a quick visit to his best friend.

Sakura reached the Inuzuka compound before he knew it. The scent of damp earth, dogs, and freshly cut grass greeted him as always—familiar and warm—though now wrapped in the thick stillness of early morning. Most of the ninken were asleep, but a few awake and patrolling with their human partners merely sniffed in his direction before losing interest. The shinobi who spotted him reacted the same way: a wave, a nod, and then leaving him be.

He slipped along the shadows, avoiding a couple of furry bodies sprawled across porches, suppressing a mischievous laugh at the thought of what was about to happen. Reaching Kiba’s window was easy; climbing it silently, even easier.

With a fluid movement, he slid into the room. The place smelled like Kiba—a mix of dog, sweat, and that soap he swore was “for warriors” but Sakura suspected smelled like flowers.

Kiba was curled up, with Akamaru nestled against his stomach, both snoring as if the world didn’t exist. The dim morning light barely outlined their shapes, and Sakura crept forward without a sound until he crouched beside the bed and shook Kiba’s shoulder.

Kiba mumbled something unintelligible, barely turning and burying his face deeper into the pillow as if that could erase him from the world.

“Five more minutes…” he murmured in a voice rough from sleep.

Sakura rolled his eyes and shook him again, this time a little harder. “Kiba, wake up.”

A long groan was the only reply. Akamaru merely lifted his head, looked at Sakura, recognized him, and settled back down without a care.

“It’s important,” he whispered, leaning in closer with a smile that could only mean trouble.

Half-asleep, Kiba grumbled, “If it’s not an invasion or a fire, it can wait.”

Sakura sighed, gently lifting Akamaru off the bed and setting him down somewhere more comfortable. She looked at Kiba. “Don’t say I don’t wake you up nicely,” she warned—before literally kicking him out of bed.

Kiba cursed, and the next thing Sakura knew, there was a blur of white and then Kiba trying to hit him back like some wild puppy that had just been poked one too many times.

Of course, Sakura fought back, and soon enough they were rolling around on the floor in a childish scuffle, trying to land blows on each other.

“What the hell, Sakura?!” Kiba growled, hair a mess, eyes narrowed as he tried to catch his friend. “It’s still nighttime!”

“Early morning,” Sakura corrected, dodging another grab and letting out an amused laugh. “It’s almost five a.m.”

Kiba gave him a look like he was deciding whether it was worth killing him or just going back to sleep. Eventually, he let out a tired grunt and flopped back onto the carpet.

“This better be important… because if it’s not, I swear I’m burying your corpse in the backyard.”

“It is.” Sakura grinned from ear to ear and, with all the theatrics possible, stepped back so Kiba could get a good look.

The burgundy hoodie, the gray pants, the black leggings… all perfectly matched, just like they’d planned that afternoon they’d snuck off to the market and spent hours picking out the “perfect training outfit.”

Kiba blinked a few times, still half-asleep, until his gaze finally focused. His eyes opened a little wider.

“Is that…?”

“Yup.” Sakura spun around with a proud little smirk. “First time I’m wearing it.”

For a moment, Kiba seemed fully awake. He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, studying him with the seriousness of someone assessing something that actually mattered. Then he slowly nodded.

“Looks good on you.” He paused, then his mouth curved into a sly grin. “Really good, actually. You look… like you.”

Something in Sakura’s chest tightened, but he didn’t say anything—just tilted his head with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Kiba stepped closer, circling Sakura to get a better look, stopping in front of him. One brow arched when he noticed the slight, soft curve to his chest.

“You know, I’ve always wondered…” he started. “How do you make your chest look like that?”

“I use a special bra.” Sakura shrugged. “It’s a sports bra, but modified by a shinobi tailor. Mom had it made for me in secret. I’ve got, like, three or four of them.”

“Creepy.”

Sakura agreed with Kiba’s choice of words. “Anyway, today’s my first training day with the team. And since my parents aren’t around, I wanted to dress like myself. I thought it’d be cool if you were the first person to see it.”

“Cool,” Kiba said with a smile. “You look awesome. You still kind of look like a girl, but the outfit’s great.” The Inuzuka yawned. “Now can I go back to bed? I don’t have to meet my team until 8 a.m.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sakura said. “By the way, you should take a bath. You stink.”

“Get out of my room before I bite you,” Kiba threatened.

And Sakura obeyed, darting out the window with a laugh full of mischief.

.

.

.

The morning air was cold, carrying that damp scent that promised rain later in the day. Sakura leapt across the rooftops, leaving the Inuzuka compound behind, feeling the adrenaline slowly replace the sleep still clinging to his eyelids.

By the time Sakura reached the designated training field, Sasuke was already there.

“You’re late,” Sasuke accused.

“So what?” Sakura replied irritably, crossing his arms as he looked at the Uchiha. “Naruto’s not even here. And Kakashi-sensei hasn’t shown up yet either.”

Stupid Uchiha, Sakura thought. He didn’t even bother saying good morning.

“Morning, Sakura-chan!” Naruto greeted cheerfully as he came running up to them. “Hey, bastard!” he added for Sasuke.

“Good morning, Naruto,” Sakura greeted with a polite smile.

Sasuke frowned at them. “Why are you two always late?” It was more of a demand than a question, and Sakura thought he might punch Sasuke’s face any moment if he kept that attitude.

“Overslept,” Naruto shrugged.

“What’s it to you?” Sakura said at the same time as Naruto—though with more bite in his tone.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

Sakura glared back. Naruto glanced between them, sensing a fight coming, and decided to speak up.

“By the way, Sakura-chan, you look really pretty today, dattebayo!” He turned to give Sakura a full once-over, clearly appreciating the new outfit. “I’ve never seen you wear that before!”

Sakura strutted a little. “It’s new training gear,” he said proudly.

“Well, it looks great, dattebayo!” Naruto grinned from ear to ear.

Sasuke scoffed and looked away. “Doesn’t matter what you wear when you’re training.”

“Oh, right—because you’re the epitome of fashion,” Sakura shot back with sarcasm, eyeing Sasuke’s dark shirt and shorts. “I’d bet you have six identical sets of those.”

“Four,” he replied seriously, as if the question had been genuine.

Naruto burst out laughing, loud enough to echo through the clearing. “Ha! So you do repeat outfits.”

“You’ve got no right to talk when you never take yours off,” Sasuke pointed out.

Naruto, of course, remained unfazed and shrugged.

“You two are hopeless when it comes to fashion,” Sakura scoffed, shaking his head. “You should at least learn how to dress properly.”

Silence fell for a moment, broken only by the murmur of the nearby stream and the rustle of branches as a crow flew overhead. Sakura glanced up at the cloudy sky, wondering how long it would take Kakashi to arrive.

Five minutes later, Naruto was already pacing around the clearing like a restless dog.

“Tch! Where is that guy? He said we’d meet here at dawn!”

“Maybe he’s testing us,” Sasuke said without looking away from the water, as if speaking more to himself than to them.

“What kind of test is that?” Naruto scowled. “I came here to fight, not to wait!”

Sakura sat down on the fallen log. “We could warm up a little while we wait.”

“No,” Sasuke said flatly. “It’ll wear us out before training.”

Sakura sighed.

Time crawled by. Naruto ended up lying in the grass staring at the clouds, Sasuke was sharpening a kunai against a stone, and Sakura was drawing shapes in the dirt with a twig. None of them said it aloud, but they were all starting to suspect Kakashi would be late.

“How long have we been waiting?” Naruto asked, still watching the sky.

“Twenty minutes,” Sakura replied.

Naruto let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s gonna be a long day…”

And it was. Five whole hours passed before Kakashi showed up. Sakura had even managed to nap next to Naruto for a full two hours. And he was pretty sure Sasuke had sneaked in about twenty minutes of sleep too, thinking nobody was watching.

“Good morning, everyone. Ready for your first day?” Kakashi appeared before them, smiling.

“Hey! You’re late!” Naruto and Sakura shouted in unison, pointing at him accusatorily. Sasuke looked annoyed at their sensei too, glaring at him.

“Well, a black cat crossed my path, so I had to take the longer way.”

“What kind of bullshit excuse is that?!” Sakura yelled. “Hey! Let me go!” she complained.

“Hey, hey, shouldn’t you be more respectful to your sensei, Sakura-chan?” Kakashi scolded, pinching her cheeks.

Sakura swallowed an insult, rubbing her cheeks in relief when Kakashi let go.

“Well, let’s get started,” Kakashi said calmly, distracting them from their anger. He placed an alarm clock on a stump. “Alright, it’s set for noon. Your task is simple. Remove these two bells before noon. Those who fail won’t get lunch. You’ll be tied to that tree stump over there while I eat in front of you.”

“That’s why he wanted us to skip breakfast,” Sakura muttered. “What a bastard.” There was a pause. “Wait a minute…”

Why were there only two bells if there were three genin? Sakura felt something was very wrong.

“Kakashi-sensei, why are there only two bells?” he asked.

“So someone ends up tied to the stump without eating,” the man said, smiling beneath his mask. “That person will be disqualified for failing the mission and sent back to the academy. Could be one of you—or all three. You can use your shuriken. But you won’t take the bells unless you attack me with intent to kill.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? You couldn’t even dodge a chalk eraser!” Naruto shouted arrogantly.

“In this world, those who aren’t skilled tend to complain more. Well, better ignore the loser…”

Naruto growled. Sakura couldn’t blame him. It was one thing for Sasuke, a peer, to call him a loser, and quite another to hear it from an adult who was supposed to be their mentor.

“Start when I give the ‘ready to go’ signal.”

Apparently, the “loser” comment stung Naruto more than Sakura had expected. He pulled out a kunai and charged at their sensei immediately. Sakura didn’t even see what happened.

Faster than he could process, Kakashi grabbed Naruto by the hair, pressing the blond’s kunai against the back of his neck. “Don’t rush. I haven’t said ‘go’ yet.” He released Naruto, who staggered back. “Well, alright. At least you attacked me with intent to kill… how should I put this? I’m starting to like you all. Okay. Ready? Go!”

Immediately, all three jumped to hide. Well, except one.

“All right! Let’s face off fair and square!”

Sakura shook his head. Poor idiot. He was going to be the sensei’s punching bag.

“Oh, yeah? Compared to the other two, you’re a little weird,” Kakashi said.

“The only weird thing here is your hairdo!” Naruto shouted, attacking again.

“Okay. Shinobi combat skill number one: Taijutsu,” Kakashi said, reaching into his weapon pouch. But what he pulled out wasn’t a weapon. It was a little orange book: Icha Icha Paradise.

Sakura gasped in surprise. He knew that book! Of course, he'd never read it. But he'd secretly heard some adults from the Inuzuka clan and Sakura's own clan talking about it with Kiba, so they were both curious, but they'd never been able to pick up one of those books to find out why the adults liked it so much.

If he played his cards right, Kakashi would definitely let him read some. Although Sakura would have to work hard to get it first; he might have to gain the sensei's trust. Hmm. He could pretend to be a cute, obedient girl to gain his sensei's trust and be able to read that book. Maybe if he was a good student like he had been at the academy, then he could get the things he wanted with this new sensei of his.

“What? What’s wrong with the book?”

“Well, I’m curious about what happens next. Don’t worry. With you guys as opponents, I don’t care if I read or not.”

That only made Naruto even angrier. He attacked again, trying to punch and kick the Jonin, but a hand constantly blocked him. The blond tried to strike again, but his fist only hit empty air.

“You shouldn’t let your enemy get that close so easily.”

Sakura recognized the position of Kakashi’s hand. It was a ninjutsu sign—one that could easily kill Naruto! It wasn’t wise to reveal his position, but his mouth moved before he could stop it.

“Naruto! Get out of there, quick!”

“Too late! Leaf Village’s Secret Ultimate Taijutsu! Thousand Years of Death!” Kakashi delivered a quick, sharp blow to Naruto’s backside, who immediately flew through the air, howling, and crashed into the river.

Sakura winced in pain. That wasn’t ninjutsu, but it definitely hurt.

Naruto crawled out of the water looking pitiful.

“Come on, you won’t get to eat lunch if the bell doesn’t ring before noon.”

“I know that!”

“You don’t have much energy for someone who claims to surpass the Hokage.” Kakashi said indifferently. Naruto’s stomach chose that moment to roar loudly.

“Damn it! Damn it! Even if I’m hungry, I can fight!”

His words briefly made Sakura pay attention to his own empty stomach, but he didn’t dwell on it and saved those thoughts for when it was his turn to fight Kakashi. He was going to unleash all his hunger-driven anger and frustration on the man.

“Damn it! Hungry or not, I will become a ninja no matter what!” Naruto proclaimed loudly as several Narutos suddenly jumped out of the water. “Now, my favorite! Shadow Clone Jutsu!”

Sakura frowned. Since when did Naruto have a jutsu like that? Damn it. That wasn’t right. If Naruto had that jutsu and Sasuke also had some good ones, that meant Sakura would end up as the weakest one on the team—and he refused to be the weakest.

He was going to have to train harder, find new techniques, and ask Kiba’s mom if she could teach him at least one cool jutsu to keep up with his teammates. He knew she wouldn’t refuse because she adored Sakura. Besides, Sakura had been training with Kiba for years, so he would probably learn something new since his friend never missed a chance to teach him all his techniques.

Suddenly, Sakura realized Kakashi was nowhere to be seen. Damn it, where had he gone? He quickly scanned the area, using the enhanced scent technique the Inuzuka had taught him during training to try to catch the man’s aroma, but it was difficult since he didn’t really know his sensei’s smell.

He moved through the wilderness, running alert. He almost let out a yell of surprise when he nearly bumped right into the Jonin. Sakura quickly crouched behind a bush, sighing with relief when he saw Kakashi hadn’t noticed him.

He concentrated chakra in his nose to sharpen his sense of smell and sniffed gently. Kakashi smelled like a mix of dogs, books, and—

“Sakura. Behind you.”

Sakura jumped the moment he heard Kakashi’s voice behind him, throwing a punch and moving away as fast as he could. Though his quick reflexes and seemingly keen sense of smell were something to consider, Kakashi didn’t stop for them just yet. Barely had he landed when he unleashed the genjutsu in a swirl of leaves.

“Huh?” He looked around but couldn’t find his sensei anywhere. “Where did he go? I swear he was right behind me! Where is he? What’s going on?”

“Sakura…” He spun around quickly and felt his heart stop. Kiba was standing in front of him, next to a badly injured Akamaru. Before he could even wonder what they were doing there, Kiba dropped to his knees and then collapsed to the ground.

Sakura’s world came to a halt.

“Sakura…” His mother’s voice echoed, appearing from the trees behind Kiba. She was wounded, weak. “This is your fault. We’re dying because of you.” She said. “You brought disgrace to our lives, why couldn’t you keep being a girl?”

Kiba looked at her with a mixture of disgust and pain. “Sakura, why…? I thought we were friends…”

Sakura barely registered his own scream before he blacked out.

Kakashi sighed. “Maybe I went a bit too far creating an illusion of her greatest fear… But it’s something she should recognize. Shinobi combat skill #2: Genjutsu. Sakura was easily drawn in.” He left to look for the other genin on his team.

Minutes later, Sakura woke up, drenched in cold sweat. He looked around, but there was no sign of his mother, which meant… 

“Genjutsu. I should’ve known. Kiba and my mother wouldn’t be able to come here since they have their own matters to attend to…”

He stood up and shook himself, looking for his teammates. Maybe he should listen to Inner and her ideas about teamwork for this fight. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to find one of his companions. He dashed into a clearing and froze mid-step at the sight of Sasuke’s head poking out of the ground.

He stared at him, paralyzed for a moment.

“He didn’t put me under another genjutsu, did he?” he said aloud, still looking at Sasuke. “Kai…” He tried to release the genjutsu uncertainly. Sasuke’s head remained right where it was. “Uh…”

“Sakura…” Sasuke sounded a little surprised to see him.

He blinked a few times and tried to break the genjutsu again, but nothing changed.

Well.

Sasuke looked at him with a vacant stare.

“So it’s not a genjutsu,” Sakura murmured. “Hey, Sasuke. What happened?”

“What do you think happened?” Sasuke frowned at him.

The corners of Sakura’s lips lifted into a smile as amusement began to grow inside him and a laugh slipped from his mouth. Suddenly, he was laughing hard, clutching his stomach as he looked at Sasuke. He didn’t even bother hiding how much he enjoyed mocking him.

“If you’re not going to help, get lost.” Sasuke hissed, irritated and embarrassed.

Sakura opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of an alarm interrupted him. His body froze.

“No…” Sakura whispered.

The alarm sounded like it was piercing the air. It wasn’t loud, not really… but each chime stabbed straight into his chest.

He had failed the exam.

“Time’s up,” Kakashi announced with that calmness he seemed no right to wield. “Looks like you didn’t get the bells.”

Sakura felt the blood drain from his hands. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat tightened shut. All he could hear was his heart pounding—too fast, too loud.

“Their stomachs are growling,” Kakashi observed. “By the way, regarding this test, you won’t need to return to the academy.”

Naruto cheered loudly. Sakura couldn’t believe it; hope bloomed as the knot in his stomach loosened just a bit.

“You three… should stop being ninjas!”

Naruto was shouting, tied to a log, Sasuke frowned and tried to justify himself. The voices seemed distant, as if everything was coming through a thick layer of water.

No… he couldn’t have failed. He couldn’t go back to the academy. Not after everything he had done, after all he had hidden.

He couldn’t start over from scratch. He couldn’t go back to being ‘her’ for everyone again.

“Because you’re just a bunch of brats not qualified to be ninjas.” He looked at Kakashi, terrified. Anxiety rose in his chest like a tide, pushing the air out of his lungs.

He felt a tingling at the tips of his fingers.

He didn’t know if he was cold or hot. All he knew was that he was shaking.

He couldn’t hear any more.

He fixed his gaze on the ground, focusing on the damp texture of the earth beneath his sandals.

“Breathe.” Inner urged him. “Come on, Sakura. Breathe. Breathe.”

But his breathing became choppy, as if each inhale was too short and every exhale got caught inside. The feeling that something bad was about to happen soaked everything.

Naruto said something—he didn’t catch what—and Sasuke snapped back with a sharp comment. Kakashi… Kakashi kept talking as if he couldn’t see what was happening right in front of him.

Sakura clenched his fists until his nails hurt. He had to stay standing. He had to.

“Damn it…”

The knot in his stomach tightened painfully.

Sasuke couldn’t take it anymore; he turned on Kakashi in a blind rage, but the Jonin was too fast for him, and in the blink of an eye, Sasuke was flat on his stomach, Kakashi twisting one of his hands behind his back while stepping on his head.

“Like I said. You’re a bunch of brats. Kids, do you think being a ninja is easy? Why do you think this exercise is done in teams?”

“W-what do you mean?” Naruto asked, confused.

“It’s like you don’t know the answer to this test. Why do you think they put you in squads of three?”

“So what if we’re in a squad of three?” Naruto asked.

“Teamwork!”

“Wait… you wanted us to work together?” Sakura asked, surprised. Inner’s words now ringing loud in his mind.

“Maybe you could’ve gotten the bells if you’d coordinated and attacked together.”

“If you wanted us to work as a team, then why are there only two bells?” Sakura asked. “If all three of us were desperate to get the bells, and one of us had to be held back, that wouldn’t build teamwork—it would cause internal conflict!”

“Exactly.” Kakashi agreed. “This is a test designed precisely to put you against each other. It’s a situation where personal interests don’t matter. The goal was to select those who prioritize teamwork. But, idiots…” Kakashi took a deep breath. “Sakura!”

He straightened under Kakashi’s intense one-eyed glare.

“You spent the whole time running away and then laughing at your teammate. And even if you seemed to have the right skills, you didn’t even try to do anything. You were completely useless when it came to this.”

“Naruto! You just keep trying, no matter how many times you fail. You even got to the point of trying to steal another teammate’s lunch.” He shifted his sole gaze to Sasuke. “And you. You treated the other two like obstacles and acted on your own.” He looked up again. “Missions are carried out in squads. Of course, individual skills matter, but teamwork is even more important. Individual actions that disrupt teamwork put it at risk and lead to death… For example,” he pulled out a kunai and pressed it against Sasuke’s neck. “Sakura. Kill Naruto or Sasuke dies…”

“I…” Sakura wasn’t sure what to say.

“…that’s what would happen.” Kakashi said, withdrawing the kunai and finally releasing Sasuke. “You face two impossible choices and end up killed. Every mission is a life-threatening mission.” Kakashi stepped toward a stone engraved with hundreds of names. “Look here. These are all the ninjas the village calls heroes.”

“That! That! I like that! I’m gonna put my name there too!” Naruto bounced with excitement.

“But… these aren’t ordinary heroes.”

“What kind of heroes are they?” Naruto asked eagerly.

“They’re all dead.”

“Dead? Great! What does that mean?”

“It means dead in battle, Naruto. They all died on missions,” Sakura whispered. “My name will be there someday too.” He murmured. If his name was there, then his parents would be proud because he’d brought honor to the clan. He would erase the shame his birth had brought. His purpose would be fulfilled.

The blonde’s smile vanished immediately. Sasuke’s eyes tightened.

"Somehow, that didn’t seem like the best thing to say here." Inner warned him—and Sakura didn’t understand why. After all, wasn’t dying honorably a good thing?

Kakashi looked at his pink-haired student for a few seconds before continuing. “This is a memorial monument. It has the names of my friends engraved on it.” He looked at each of them. “I’ll give you one more chance! But this time the battle for the bells will be tougher. Those who accept the challenge may have lunch, but don’t give anything to Naruto. It’s a punishment for breaking the rules and trying to eat alone. If anyone lets him eat, they’ll be disqualified instantly. I make the rules. Understood?”

Sakura thought there was a trap in all of this, but he wasn’t sure where.

He just hoped that trap wouldn’t make them fail again.

Chapter Text

Sakura couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a balanced, full meal that wasn’t made at Kiba’s house. Meals like that were rare at home, because his mother didn’t like him gaining weight. It would ruin his figure, and then someone might discover his secret—which would mean Sakura could never bring honor to his family in the end.

He stirred his food with his chopsticks hesitantly as he chewed a piece of vegetable. The loud growl of Naruto’s stomach both irritated him and made him feel guilty. He knew what it was like to be hungry while people ate right in front of you—he’d lived it many times at home, forced to eat half-portions to avoid gaining weight while his parents had full meals beside him.

“I don’t mind not having lunch!” Naruto exclaimed. “I can go days without eating! Even weeks, dattebayo!” It might have been more believable if his declaration hadn’t been interrupted by yet another loud rumble. “…Uh...”

“You should give him half your food,” Inner said with pity. “We both know you won’t finish it anyway, and it’d just go to waste.”

“I guess you’re right…” Sakura answered inwardly. “But I shouldn’t disobey sensei. I don’t want to fail.”

“Here.” Sasuke’s voice cut in.

Sakura looked at him. “Hey! You shouldn’t do that. Kakashi-sensei said—”

“He’s not here.” Sasuke interrupted. “We need to get the bells as a team, and if Naruto’s starving, it’ll only drag us down.”

Sakura hesitated. Sasuke did have a point.

He sighed. “Fine…” he muttered, extending his lunch toward Naruto.

The blond looked at him in shock. “Sakura-chan…”

Sakura gave him a small smile. “Kakashi-sensei said this time it’ll be harder. You’ll need your strength.” He let out a sigh. “Besides, I’m on a diet. I don’t eat as much as Sasuke, so don’t worry—just eat.”

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto said hoarsely, eyes misty. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me! Hurry and eat before sensei comes back!”

“It’s just…” Naruto flexed his arm against the rope. “I can’t eat like this. You’ll have to feed me.”

“…What?” A vein twitched at Sakura’s temple.

“Hurry up,” Sasuke warned. “Sensei could be back any second.”

Damn it.

“Just this once,” Sakura growled, scooping some rice with his chopsticks and holding it up to Naruto’s mouth. “And don’t you dare say a word to anyone.” Kiba would never let him live this down if he found out.

Naruto grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “A one-time thing, got it,” he said, taking a bite. Sakura stared at him oddly. Just how hungry was the idiot, to look that happy about being hand-fed?

Suddenly, a cloud of dust and dirt burst in front of them.

“You three!” Kakashi roared. “You broke the rules, so you know what comes next!” His hands blurred through signs, summoning dark storm clouds overhead, and Sakura couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he even did that. “Any last words?” he asked coldly over the howl of the wind.

“But… but… but! But you said, sensei! Sakura-chan and—”

“We’re a three-man squad, right?” Sasuke cut in.

“That’s right!” Sakura declared. “The three of us are one! So—”

“That’s right! That’s right! That’s right! Dattebayo!” Naruto emphasized.

“The three of you are one, huh?” Kakashi looked them over—each one standing defiant, ready to fight for their right to be a team. Then he closed his visible eye in a smile. “You pass.”

“…What?” They all froze, confused, not sure if they should lower their guard.

“You pass.”

“What do you mean? Why?” Sakura asked uncertainly, as if he didn’t quite trust what he’d heard. Above them, the storm clouds vanished from the sky.

“You’re the first,” Kakashi said. “Up until now, you were just a bunch of fools following me around obediently. A ninja must see through deception. In the shinobi world, those who break the rules are scum… but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Relief slammed into Sakura. So that had been the trick all along, huh? Teamwork… because they were a team.

“Told you,” Inner mocked.

Sakura smiled sheepishly. He was probably going to have to listen to Inner more often now. She was never wrong, after all. On the bright side—he was finally a ninja!

“That’s it for this exercise! You all pass! Team 7’s first official mission begins tomorrow!” Kakashi said, giving them a thumbs-up.

Sakura beamed, bouncing a little on his feet. Finally—he was a ninja!

.

.

.

Their first official mission was walking dogs.

It wasn’t exactly what any of them had expected, but Sakura didn’t really mind. They were still genin, and it was pretty obvious they’d be assigned those kinds of missions while Kakashi slowly shaped them into real shinobi—and not just useless cannon fodder for the village.

Because, at the core, that’s what they were.

Genin.

The lowest rank in Konoha’s military food chain.

Genin weren’t soldiers; they were disposable apprentices, cheap bargaining chips for the villages. Twelve- and thirteen-year-old kids sent to run errands—or, when the time came, sent to die if that meant the higher-ups could measure an enemy’s strength without risking shinobi of actual worth.

Above them were the chūnin: shinobi capable of leading a squad and surviving on their own. Respected just enough to be listened to in a council room, but still far from the real decisions that steered the village. Then came the jōnin, the elite—men and women who had endured blood, failure, and loss and still lived to tell the tale. After them, the ANBU. And above all, the Hokage: the entire weight of the village on his shoulders, and the lives of everyone he swore to protect in his hands.

The system was efficient, but cruel. And Sakura was perfectly fine with that—because that’s how the world was supposed to be. Cruel.

So yes, today they were walking dogs.

“Good boy!” He praised the dog that reached up to his hip, scratching its ears affectionately. It wasn’t as big as the Inuzuka clan’s dogs, but it was certainly huge. And it was adorable.

“You have experience with dogs, Sakura?” Kakashi asked, glancing away from his book to look at his student.

The pink-haired boy nodded. “Yup,” he answered, absentmindedly stroking the fur of the dog at his side. “I spend a lot of time with Kiba in the Inuzuka clan grounds, so I’m used to being around all kinds of dogs. I know how to take care of them, what they like, what to do.”

“Mhm…” Kakashi hummed. “I see.”

“Hey! Get back here!” Naruto shouted, chasing after his dog—an enormous one he’d picked just to compete with Sasuke.

“Idiot,” Sasuke muttered, watching Naruto run after it.

Naruto dove headfirst, trying to catch the dog, but it easily leapt over a low fence and disappeared into the bushes.

“No, wait! Come back!”

Kakashi closed his book with a heavy sigh, watching the scene as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “And here I thought this would be a quiet first mission…”

Sakura grimaced but kept silent. He wasn’t about to get involved in that mess.

Sasuke scoffed, folding his arms as Naruto vanished behind the fence. “Pathetic,” he muttered.

“I heard that, bastard!” Naruto’s voice rang out from the bushes, followed by a loud growl from the dog and the sound of snapping branches. “You’ll see once I catch it!”

Sakura pressed a hand to his forehead. Between the dog and Naruto, she wasn’t sure which was harder to handle.

“You could help him, you know?” he said, glancing at Sasuke. He had the smallest of the three dogs, and Sakura suspected that was because Sasuke didn’t seem to like dogs much at all.

“He brought it on himself.”

Kakashi had already reopened his book, completely unfazed by the sight of one of his students in the middle of a canine chase. “This is part of the training, too,” he commented calmly. “Teamwork is tested even in… inglorious situations.”

“Like chasing a dog all over Konoha?” Sakura raised an eyebrow. That made no sense.

“Exactly.”

A bark echoed loudly, growing fainter with distance. A moment later, Naruto stumbled back into view, covered in leaves and sporting a scratch on his cheek.

“Sensei! That dog’s a demon! It almost bit me!”

Sasuke clicked his tongue. “Or maybe it just knows you’re an idiot.”

Naruto growled, but before he could lunge at Sasuke, the smaller, chubby dog at Sasuke’s side tangled its leash around Naruto’s legs, sending him crashing face-first into the dirt.

“Ow!” Naruto groaned, lifting his dirt-streaked face.

The dog, meanwhile, happily licked him.

Kakashi sighed. “Alright then, Sakura-chan, Sasuke. Seems like you’re the only ones with a natural aptitude for D-rank missions. Naruto, you could stand to learn from them.”

Naruto got to his feet, brushing himself off. “I’m good with dogs too!” he protested. “You’ll see, I’ll prove it!”

The big dog reappeared then, trotting calmly out of the same bush Naruto had vanished into, carrying a branch proudly in its mouth. Sakura greeted it with a smile, scratching behind its ears.

With a soft plop, the dog dropped the branch at Sakura’s feet.

“See, sensei? He obeyed me!” Naruto exclaimed, pointing at the animal as if it were proof of his triumph.

“Sure…” Sakura replied dryly, raising an eyebrow. “After ignoring you for half an hour and bringing back the branch on his own.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Naruto crossed his arms with a confident grin. “In the end he came back to me, didn’t he?”

Sasuke scoffed, looking away. “He went back to Sakura, idiot. Not you.”

“Tsk, damn bastard!”

Before Naruto could lunge, Kakashi lifted a hand without looking up from his book. “If you’re going to fight, do it after we return the dogs. Clients don’t like to get their pets back covered in mud.”

Sakura sighed and tightened his grip on his dog, who seemed far more docile with him than with any of the others. “This is going to take forever if we keep this up…” he muttered.

“Then let Sakura take them all,” Sasuke said naturally at Kakashi’s words, as if it were the most logical solution.

Sakura shot him an irritated look.

“Hey!” Naruto immediately protested on Sakura’s behalf. “That’s unfair!”

“What’s fair would be you not ruining every mission we take,” Sasuke replied coldly. “Besides, the dogs seem to get along better with Sakura than with any of us.”

Kakashi lifted a finger, as if something interesting had just occurred to him. “Could be a good leadership exercise: Sakura up front with the dogs, you two as support.”

Naruto’s eyes gleamed with determination. “Then I’ll be the support leader!”

“That doesn’t even exist,” Sakura muttered.

Barks filled the air as all three dogs yanked on their leashes at the same time, trying to chase a rabbit. Sakura wrestled with his, Sasuke held his ground with the small chubby one, and Naruto was dragged several meters away instantly, screaming.

“S-Sensei! This isn’t training, it’s torture!”

Kakashi followed them calmly, hands in his pockets, his book open again.

“Welcome to D-rank missions.”

Sakura thought, once again, that he was surrounded by idiots.

By the time they finally finished the mission, it was already getting dark and too late to take another one. He collected his pay, trying not to feel too discouraged. Not because of the money, but because he didn’t want to go home just yet.

Even though he liked the idea of being alone at home, when it came time to eat he still felt far too lonely. And he didn’t want to drop by Kiba’s place, because even though he knew his friend and his family wouldn’t mind having him there for dinner, Sakura always felt uncomfortable at the thought of being a bother.

Maybe he should just eat out somewhere. At least that way he could pretend he wasn’t alone, surrounded by the noise of people around him.

“Alright!” Naruto shouted. “To celebrate our first mission, we should have a team dinner at Ichiraku’s!”

“You really think that mission was worth celebrating, loser? It took ten times longer thanks to you.”

“Still, it was our first mission and we completed it. We should celebrate! Right, Kakashi-sensei?”

“Well… it might help strengthen the team…”

“See! We’re going! I’ll drag you there if I have to, bastard! Right, Sakura-chan?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He nodded, suddenly feeling energized at the thought of eating with his new team. “But I want meat. Not ramen.”

“Whaaat?!” Naruto whined. “But—!”

Sakura turned to look at Kakashi. “Can we go for barbecue instead? Please? I know a really good place…”

He put on his best pleading eyes. He’d perfected them back in academy days, manipulating teachers into favors or getting out of scoldings whenever he got into trouble with Kiba. They usually worked well because, according to Ino once, Sakura had “that kind of face” that made people never doubt his innocence.

“Please, sensei?”

Kakashi looked at him for a few seconds; his gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Sakura’s head, smiling faintly under the mask. “Well… I suppose barbecue this time won’t hurt anyone.”

“What?! That’s not fair!” Naruto immediately yelled, nearly bouncing on the spot. “I wanted ramen, sensei! I asked since this morning!”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, walking ahead with his hands in his pockets. “Stop whining, idiot. Barbecue’s fine.” He almost looked relieved not to be eating ramen.

“Shut up, bastard!” Naruto turned to Kakashi with pleading eyes. “Sensei, please, ramen!”

Kakashi flipped a page in his book calmly, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. “It’s settled. Barbecue it is.”

Sakura smiled to himself, trying not to show just how satisfied he was. He’d just found a weakness in Kakashi-sensei, and he wasn’t about to waste even a damn second before using it again.

“What?!” Naruto shouted. “Since when was it settled?! That’s not fair! Senseeii!” He was yelling so loud that several villagers turned to stare. “It’s not fair!”

“Shut up, idiot,” Sasuke cut in coldly.

“Damn bastard! Don’t stick your nose into this!”

Sakura walked happily toward the barbecue restaurant. Yakiniku Q. He’d gone there a few times with Kiba’s family, and some of his happiest memories were tied to that place.

He sat down next to Sasuke, while Naruto and Kakashi took their seats across the table. His eyes scanned the menu with precision, already noting the different cuts of meat he could try.

“It’s not fair…” Naruto muttered.

“Stop complaining, idiot,” Sasuke replied without looking up, flipping through the menu with disinterest. “If you want ramen that badly, go alone.”

“I’m not letting you guys celebrate without me!” Naruto straightened up with a frown, like he’d just won a decisive argument.

Sakura couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. There was something oddly comforting about their constant bickering; the noise, the energy… he liked being around them more than he had expected.

“I want that one.” Sakura pointed at the cut of meat he wanted, showing Kakashi. “Spiced chicken. It’s my favorite.”

“I want that one!” Naruto jabbed at his choice. “Marinated pork—don’t know what it is, but I bet it’s delicious!”

Sakura blinked. Had Naruto never tried marinated pork before? Wait… what had that idiot been eating his whole life? Just ramen?

“Please don’t let it be just ramen,” Inner prayed to no one in particular, sounding so worried that Sakura almost asked Naruto about his diet right then and there. In the end, he decided not to. Probably better for his peace of mind.

All eyes turned to Sasuke. “The beef special,” the boy pointed out.

The three genin looked to Kakashi. He pretended not to notice. Sakura opened his mouth to say something, but the waiter appeared with a smile, cutting him off.

“We’ll order several cuts. Beef special, marinated pork, and spiced chicken,” Kakashi told the man. He looked at his genin. “Anything else to add?”

“Extra rice for me!” Naruto raised his hand like he was in class.

“I want an extra side of gomaae!” Sakura chimed in, lifting his hand the same way.

All eyes went to Sasuke again. The boy sighed like speaking physically pained him. “Nothing extra.”

“Add the non-alcoholic shinobi drink set,” Kakashi told the waiter.

As they waited for their food, the silence gradually filled with the warmth of the grill and the lively chatter from other tables. Sakura propped his chin on his hand, looking at the three of them with a trace of surprise. He hadn’t thought sharing a simple meal could make him feel so… not alone.

Naruto, meanwhile, was already slumped over the table, eyes shining as if his very life depended on how fast the food would arrive.

“Sensei, are you going to eat meat too?” Sakura asked, trying to imagine Kakashi without his mask.

Kakashi nodded without lifting his eyes from his book, humming softly. “Meh, Sakura-chan,” he said distractedly as the waiter set their order on the table. He began placing slices of meat on the grill, tucking his book away with his free hand. “Since when are you on a diet?”

Sakura, who had been staring at the meat just like Naruto, snapped his head toward Kakashi so quickly his neck almost hurt. His hand—about to grab some of his favorite vegetables—froze midair, chopsticks empty. “Why?” He narrowed his eyes at him.

Was Kakashi going to make him eat less too? Damn it.

“I was just thinking…” the man said, as though searching for the right words to tell his student. “I’ll be drafting a dietary plan that the three of you will need to follow—mainly focused on the nutrients and calories necessary for you to survive training. I wonder if your diet will interfere with that plan…”

Sakura tilted his head. “That depends on what the plan is,” he answered, swallowing the sharp retort he wanted to throw at the man. He felt anger rising in his chest, his fingers squeezing the chopsticks tightly as his eyes fixed on the meat sizzling on the grill.

He knew. Damn it, he knew. Most adults were the same, always monitoring what kind of food Sakura could eat and how much, never letting him enjoy a single damn sweet without an attack of criticism.

“Shannaro!” Inner shouted furiously, raising a fist. “That bastard… and here I thought we finally had a reliable adult besides Kiba’s mom! It’s not fair!”

Sakura chewed on some rice aggressively, shooting a glare at Kakashi before deciding he didn’t want to talk to him ever again. Out of pure spite, he snatched a few slices of meat Kakashi seemed to be eyeing before the man could take them.

Absentmindedly, he watched Naruto and Sasuke throw themselves into a fierce competition to see who could eat more. Sakura lowered his gaze to his own plate, silently hoping they’d be dismissed soon so he could go home and complain to Inner about how unfair Kakashi and the rest of the adults in his life were.

On the other hand, if he really wanted to get rid of the food restrictions he was dealing with now, maybe he should free himself from his team altogether, so he wouldn’t have to depend on any adult. And there was, of course, only one not-so-simple way to free himself from a genin team: rise to chunin almost immediately.

It would be complicated, especially since the chunin exams hadn’t even been scheduled yet, but Sakura knew that if he worked hard enough, he could probably pass them somehow. After all, he was smart and had solid combat skills. Maybe he didn’t shine in ninjutsu, but that hardly mattered if you knew how to wield your other strengths.

He sucked lightly on his chopsticks as he watched the meat cooking in front of him, silently thankful that the pair of idiots he called teammates weren’t touching his share of the grill.

The expectations for a shinobi of civilian birth—especially the child of merchants who weren’t even originally from Konoha—were painfully low. Less than five percent of first-generation shinobi managed to rise on their own merits, even if they gave their entire lives to it. To advance, cruel as it sounded, you needed connections. Ties. People of higher social standing willing to support you.

If he decided to push himself through the chunin exams, then afterward he would be expected to accept all the dirtiest missions the village had to offer—the ones clan heirs could easily avoid. Especially if you were a woman, as Sakura was supposed to be (never mind the fact that he was biologically a man).

He’d be sent on seduction missions, deep-cover operations that could take him away from the village for months or even years, forced to deal with unpleasant people… Though, in a way, that almost sounded preferable to spending his whole life trapped under restrictions in a place where he was never truly wanted for what he was.

Although that part, he reflected bitterly, was his own fault. If he had really been born a girl, maybe he wouldn’t have to suffer so much or feel so resentful about the life he was living.

“Sakura!”

Arms wrapped around him from behind, making him lean forward. A small wet nose started sniffing him before licking his cheek.

He blinked, staring at the two beings he loved most in the world right there. His eyes lit up. “Kiba!” he greeted, turning to hug his friend. Their cheeks rubbed together as if they hadn’t seen each other in years and not just since the morning before.

“You smell like strange dogs,” Kiba muttered, his nose picking up as much of Sakura’s scent as he could. “Gross.” Akamaru barked in agreement.

“Hey!” Naruto shouted indignantly, pointing at him. “Get your hands off my Sakura-chan! Sakura-chan, don’t let that mangy mutt hug you!”

Kiba turned to look at Naruto. “Ah, you guys are here too,” he said, hopping over the back of the seat to land beside Sakura. He happily accepted the piece of meat Sakura offered him.

“Kiba!” Kurenai scolded. “You mustn’t intrude on other teams’ tables.” Her gaze shifted to Kakashi. “Hello, Kakashi. Sorry for the interruption.”

Kakashi dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Seems like your pup is pretty attached to mine,” he remarked instead, watching as Kiba immediately started chatting away with Sakura about their training.

“Quite attached, I’d say,” Kurenai admitted. “May I…?” She gestured toward the table.

“No problem,” Kakashi said, moving aside. Kurenai sat down next to Sasuke and Shino beside Naruto, leaving Hinata to sit next to Kiba and across from Sasuke.

“I haven’t heard anything but Sakura’s name from Kiba’s mouth these past few days,” Kurenai admitted. “Seems like you two have been pretty close since the academy, judging from the kind of things my student shares.”

“Mhm.” Kakashi hummed, his gaze sliding toward the pink-haired genin who looked far more animated than just a few minutes ago.

Kurenai’s eyes shifted to Sakura. “So, you’re Sakura, aren’t you? I remember you from the day I went to pick up my team at the academy.”

Sakura blinked, surprised the woman was speaking to him. “Uh, yeah,” he replied. “That’s me.” He pulled a piece of meat from the grill, smoothly dodging Kiba’s hand as it tried to snatch it away. “Haruno Sakura.” He flashed his most charming smile at the beautiful kunoichi. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He hissed when Kiba elbowed him and jabbed him right back with the same force. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sasuke and Naruto turning pale at the pace of the meal, while Hinata looked horrified and embarrassed by the boys, who seemed about to throw up. He also noticed how red the girl’s face had turned as she stared at Naruto, and wondered if maybe she was sick or something—because there was no way someone’s face could get that red normally.

“Haruno? Then your family is from Iron, right?” Kurenai asked.

Sakura shrugged. “I don’t know?” He grabbed some vegetables and chewed thoughtfully. “I mean, my family doesn’t really come from any one place. It’s true that a big part of the clan lives in the Land of Iron, but honestly, they’re all nomads. They prefer migrating from place to place instead of settling down. I think I have cousins and relatives all across the nations, but I’m not sure. I don’t even know half of them.”

“Sakura’s parents travel for the same reason,” Kiba added, chomping on pieces of meat. “Right?”

Sakura nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “They were used to traveling, but when I was born they settled in Konoha with other clan members. They still wander around, though, and since I’m the only shinobi in the family, they don’t really get too involved with me unless it’s necessary.”

And what his parents considered necessary was controlling appearances after the disaster that had been Sakura’s birth. Sakura pouted at the memory, stuffing a piece of roast beef into his mouth. The salty taste made him feel a little better.

Sakura’s gaze shifted to Hinata. “Hey, Hyuga-san, why are you so red? You feeling okay?” he asked, nudging Kiba. “Move, Kiba,” he said to the boy, deciding it was better to step over him to make space between him and Hinata so he could sit next to the girl.

The girl looked at him, surprised. “I-I… uh… t-this…” she stammered.

Sakura put a hand to Hinata's forehead, just to make sure she didn't have a fever. "You're really red, you know? It's not normal. Have you thought about going to the doctor?"

Hinata’s face turned even redder, especially when she noticed Naruto staring at her too. “I-I… I mean, y-you see… I-I…” The girl fainted.

Sakura panicked. “Oh no! Hey, wake up!” he shouted, holding the girl in his arms while shooting a panicked look at Kiba, who shrugged just as nervously as she did. His gaze fell on Kurenai, who seemed resigned.

“She’ll be fine,” the woman told them. “She’s just very shy.”

Sakura thought that was a lame excuse. What person could be so shy that they fainted like that? In his mind, Inner mocked him. Maybe this was his karma for complaining so much about his teammates that day.

Chapter Text

It was four in the morning when Sakura woke up. A wet nose bumped against his face, accompanied by the rough warmth of a breath that wasn’t his own. He squinted, and the first thing he saw was Akamaru’s snout before the dog licked his face.

Sakura groaned, pushing him gently with one hand, and shifted his gaze to the disheveled silhouette of Kiba, half slouched over his bed, wearing that mischievous grin that always seemed to serve as a reminder that Inuzukas didn’t respect personal boundaries much once you became their friend.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered, almost with a low growl in his voice, in a tone so cheerful that Sakura had to resist the urge to kick him off the bed. “Your birthday present is ready.”

Sakura barely had time to frown before Akamaru leaped onto his chest. The boy complained, still half-asleep. “It’s four in the morning…” he whined. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

Kiba grinned from ear to ear, without a shred of guilt. Sakura knew this was partly payback for the other day when he had woken him at the same hour. “I’m here to rescue you from your boring life, what else?” he replied, giving him a slap on the cheek. The early morning smelled of wet earth and tree bark, as if Kiba had brought the entire forest with him, making Sakura smile faintly. “Get up, your present is ready.”

Sakura blinked, still incredulous, sitting up in bed with his messy pink hair falling across his face and shoulders. “My… present?”

Kiba nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. “Yeah, idiot, your present. For your birthday. Come on, we have to go to my house before everyone else wakes up. If we’re late, someone else will probably steal it.”

Sakura looked at him, a mix of fatigue and anticipation, as if he were unsure whether to keep sleeping or let himself be carried along by his friend’s overflowing energy. “It’s ready…? What are you talking about?”

Kiba puffed out his chest proudly. “A puppy, dumbass. Of course, not just any puppy. One of ours! Eight months old, big paws, sharp teeth—you can already tell it’s going to be huge!” He leaned in closer, like sharing a secret. “It’ll be your partner.”

Sakura’s heart skipped a beat. It was too early to feel fully awake, but those words struck him deeply. A partner. Something of his own. Not a disguise, not a lie. Something that couldn’t be taken from him.

Akamaru let out a low bark from his legs, as if approving the idea. “Come on,” Kiba insisted, already standing and pulling the sheets, before moving to Sakura’s closet, grabbing the first clothes he saw and tossing them to him. “If you don’t move, I’ll carry you myself.”

Sakura let out a small laugh, the first of the day, as he allowed himself to be dragged out of bed. “Okay, okay,” he said, while taking off his pajamas. He quickly put on the uncomfortable sports bra, making sure it was snug, and then slipped into the crimson qipao-style dress, fitted to his torso with side slits that revealed the pair of black lycra shorts he hurriedly pulled on underneath.

He zipped up the diagonal closure that ran from his neck to his side, awkwardly breaking the symmetry of the outfit but giving it an ornamental touch that Sakura knew his mother adored.

Kiba frowned. “Hurry up, we don’t have all morning.”

“Go screw yourself,” Sakura replied, putting on his usual navy-blue sandals. He caught the comb Kiba threw him, quickly brushing his hair and feeling grateful it wasn’t a complete mess like usual, while tying the headband around his hair like a headband. “I’m ready.”

“Aren’t you going to brush your teeth?” Kiba asked.

“Weren’t you in a hurry?” Sakura shot back, but headed to the bathroom anyway. Not that he didn’t want to wash his face and teeth—he did—but he had planned to do it at Kiba’s house.

“Hurry up!”

Sakura threw an empty shampoo bottle at Kiba. The boy laughed, dodging it.

The path to the Inuzuka clan grounds was shrouded in the spring morning mist. Sakura didn’t complain: the cold on his skin, the scent of nature—it was all familiar, almost comforting. What he didn’t expect was the reverent silence awaiting them as they reached the heart of the territory, where several clan members formed a wide semicircle, chatting among themselves. In the center, a litter of dogs waited, each one different, each with the fierce gleam of Inuzuka blood in their eyes.

“Wait!” Kiba shouted, landing on the ground with Sakura by his side. “Don’t start yet! We’re here, Mom!”

Tsume Inuzuka smiled, revealing her fangs. Fuchsia-colored lips. Red eyeshadow around her eyes.

“Just in time, boys.” She crossed her arms over her chest, imposing as always, with that mix of fierceness and motherhood that made anyone straighten up without thinking. Her dark, piercing eyes fixed on Sakura.

“Hey! You’re here, Sakura-chan!” Hana, Kiba’s sister, ruffled his hair. “Kiba brought his girlfriend again, guys!”

There were a few laughs and whistles. Sakura and Kiba both made disgusted faces, as always when someone joked like that.

Tsume laughed before turning her gaze back to Sakura. “You know how this goes, kiddo,” she said, tilting her head slightly. Her tone was firm, as always, but carried a trace of indulgence. “The clan’s dogs aren’t just pets. We aren’t a clan that ‘assigns’ them like weapons. They choose just as much as you do. No connection, no bond. No bond, no pack.”

Kiba puffed out his chest as if he already knew the speech by heart, but Sakura nodded silently.

Sakura nodded firmly. “Yes,” he said to the woman.

“Today is not a gift,” Tsume clarified again. “If one of them accepts you, it will be because they recognize you as part of the pack. If not… you leave empty-handed. Do you understand, brat?”

The murmurs among the other Inuzuka quieted as the litter of puppies shifted restlessly. It wasn’t common for an outsider to have the chance to choose one of the puppies as a companion—but this was Sakura. The pup the clan leader’s son had practically adopted as a brother from the moment he saw it.

Sakura took a deep breath and stepped toward the playful puppies.

The Inuzuka weren’t like other clans. Sakura had understood that as a child when he first saw Kiba and Akamaru run as if they were a single body, a single spirit. They didn’t ‘train’ their dogs like weapons. They were more than ninjas, more than animals: half human, half wolf, and the line between the two wasn’t clear. They were companions, family. Pack.

Sakura noticed how everyone present, though some whispered among themselves, watched with curiosity. Unlike other clans, where a stranger could never touch one of those puppies or train freely with non-clan members, here the bond was built on instinct and choice. It didn’t matter that Sakura didn’t carry Inuzuka blood—because Kiba had chosen him.

He had chosen him as a companion to grow with, a brother, a friend—and that was enough for every clan member. That was why there were no objections, no doubt, not even judgmental looks, only acceptance and curiosity, as if they were seeing family rather than a mere stranger or intruder; the palpable acceptance was a reflection of the Inuzuka way, the understanding that some connections aren’t explained by words alone, but by gaze, breath, and silence.

Tsume watched him with a mix of curiosity and approval.

“The clan doesn’t accept just anyone,” she said firmly, her usual toughness softened by a maternal tone that made Sakura feel safe. “But what you choose with your own heart, that we do accept. Forced bonds don’t last. The pack only recognizes those who truly respect and feel.”

Sakura knew this. He had seen it. He had understood it. And Kiba had simply reinforced it once, explaining it to him. Within the clan, hierarchies were simple: the pack comes first. Blood and fangs mattered less than loyalty. It wasn’t about parents and children, brothers or cousins—it was about the pack. Survive together, die together, share every fragment of life.

Sakura saw it in their gestures: the low growls in their voices, the laughter with an animal edge, the bared teeth meant as greeting, not threat. The Inuzuka were shinobi, yes, but the Hidden Leaf Village seemed like a second skin over the true one: that of hunters, of beasts, of those who never forgot that strength didn’t come from temples or books, but from instincts, the pack, and loyalty.

Tsume stepped forward. The mist seemed to bend around her as if it recognized her as an alpha too, and Sakura thought at that moment that Tsume Inuzuka would always be the most impressive woman he would ever meet in his life.

“The bond is the only thing that holds us together,” the woman continued, her voice a mix of steel and damp earth. “Here, there is no blind obedience, no chains. The clan dogs are not weapons or tools. They are your equals. Your companions. Your other half.”

She raised a hand, and the murmurs stopped. Other children, younger than Sakura, stepped forward to choose their own puppies. And Sakura discovered with relief that he wasn’t the only one making a choice—though he was the only one who didn’t really belong there.

“If one of them accepts you, kids, it’s because they recognize something of themselves in you. The wildness. The freedom. That which cannot be tamed by parents, villages, or anyone in this world.”

Sakura swallowed. He felt the heavy gazes on him, expectant, judging, waiting. But what truly made him shiver weren’t human eyes—it was the others: the yellows, the browns, the reddish hues of the litter. There was a different kind of attention in them, a silent measurement, as if each puppy were deciding whether he was worthy.

Nerves filled him, intense and frightening, making him want to run away. What if they rejected him? What if none of them chose him?

For a moment, he thought it was unfair. That being accepted or rejected by an animal shouldn’t weigh this much. But then he remembered how Kiba always said “we,” not “I.” How he moved with Akamaru as if they had been born from the same mother. How the Inuzuka were never truly alone, even when they seemed to be.

He swallowed again and stepped closer to the puppies, trying not to feel intimidated by the mother despite her not even looking at him. The puppies were strong, even at their young age, with big paws, sharp snouts, and a wild instinct that seemed to overflow from their fur. Some jostled each other with low growls; others sniffed the air curiously. Most were even bigger than Akamaru, who was already three years old, though Akamaru was a special kind of dog that would take longer to fully grow, just like his parents.

Sakura felt a wave of nausea. His eyes scanned the puppies, who sniffed at him and then wandered to other spots that caught their attention.

He looked at Kiba, who smiled and gave him two thumbs up in approval. Sakura sighed before crouching down toward a group of three puppies with pouty faces. Of the seven puppies present, only three hadn’t been chosen yet, and he was losing hope of getting one for himself, even if Kiba had promised him he would.

His eyes roamed the puppies, and he smiled as two of them eagerly approached. “Hey, guys,” he greeted, playing with the first two and scratching behind their ears. His gaze shifted to one in particular, the last of the three, who seemed reluctant to come closer.

This one seemed different from the others. A little bigger, yet shy despite the size difference with its siblings. A jet-black puppy with a white patch on its chest, ears standing tall, and tail tense. It watched everything, seemingly waiting, not trying to leave its mother.

It was quite handsome.

Then their eyes met. Golden and fixed, and for a moment it was as if the little dog understood him. As if they had been cut from the same kunai. It was like looking in a mirror: alert, stubborn, wary, with that silent need to never give in, even if everyone else expected it.

Sakura noticed it immediately. The tug at his chest. The feeling of belonging. He felt as if he had stopped breathing. The games of the other two puppies became a distant murmur. The only thing real were those eyes, fierce and steady like his own, but a different color.

The puppy tilted its head slightly, as if testing a secret. And then, against everyone’s expectations, it took a step. And then another. With every movement, its gaze never left Sakura’s, as if it had chosen him before he even arrived.

Sakura held his breath as the puppy planted itself in front of him, silently begging to be his. The dog tilted its head, sniffed gently, and then, without hesitation, nudged its muzzle against his open hand. A strange warmth spread across his skin, as if something had anchored itself inside him.

“Hey, buddy,” Sakura greeted as the puppy sniffed him. The little tail began to wag. He let out a small laugh. “Ah! Hey!” he protested when the puppy nipped at his hand.

“I knew it!” Kiba shouted, and Sakura felt a weight crash onto his back, sending him sprawling to the ground with his face pressing into the dirt. “I told you you’d get one! I told you!”

“Get off me!” Sakura yelled, twisting as he tried to push Kiba away. Akamaru barked, and Sakura felt a wet nose on his cheek—but it wasn’t his best friend’s dog. It was his own, wagging its tail and starting to lick his face.

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh, still struggling with Kiba, who seemed even happier than he was at that moment. Two kids laughing and rolling on the ground in one of their typical tussles—this time not with a single dog, but with two.

“All right, you kids, that’s enough playing around.” Tsume said, tugging at the collar of her son’s jacket to make him stand up. Kiba complained, but he obeyed.

Sakura got to his feet, quickly scooping up the puppy in his arms and smiling at the woman.

Tsume looked at him with a proud smile; one remarkably similar to her son’s. “There you go, kiddo,” she said to Sakura. “What are you going to call her?”

Sakura hesitated, looking at the little dog. “Mhm,” he hummed. “How about ‘Kurogane’?”

“Kurogane?” Kiba asked.

Sakura nodded. “It’s made up of the kanji for ‘black’ and ‘steel’ or ‘iron,’” he explained. “Because she’s a big, sturdy dog even though she’s a puppy. She’s black, and she looks like she’s going to be tough and strong, so it’s a great name.”

He looked at his new companion with a cheerful smile.

“You’re going to be really strong, right?” he encouraged. “Big and cool, and you’ll bite all our enemies until they scream in pain.”

The puppy barked happily.

“Good name, brat.” Tsume complimented, amused. “Although Kurogane is a female.”

There was a pause.

“You’re… a girl?” Sakura repeated in disbelief, looking down at the puppy in his arms. She licked his chin as if confirming her identity.

Then Kiba’s laughter boomed through the place. He doubled over, pointing at him while Akamaru barked, caught up in the fun. “HAHAHAHA! This is perfect!” he shouted, unable to contain himself. “Sakura, the boy pretending to be a girl, ends up with a female dog that looks like a male! They’re perfect for each other!”

Sakura’s face immediately flushed, grateful that no one else from the Inuzuka clan was there to hear his best friend’s words. “Shut up, Kiba!” he tried to protest, while the puppy barked along with him. That only made Kiba laugh even harder, slapping the ground with an open palm.

Tsume shook her head, though her smile hinted she was holding back a laugh similar to her son’s. “Try not to cause any trouble,” she warned. “And don’t be late for your training.” With that, she left quickly, accompanied by her ninken.

“This is too good!” Kiba squealed, still catching his breath from laughing. “Look at him, all serious, planning strong, tough, manly names… and he gets a girl! Your Kurogane is a princess disguised as an ogre!”

“Who are you calling an ogre, idiot?!” Sakura growled, holding the puppy to his chest, taking offense personally. “Kurogane is a cute little pup! The only ugly one here is you!”

The puppy let out a small growl as if reaffirming her place, and Sakura couldn’t help but smile again, feeling that strange warmth in his chest anchoring him to her.

Kiba, still laughing, wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “She’s perfect for you, idiot,” he said, ignoring his earlier words. “Seriously. Nobody else could end up with a female dog that looks like a male. That’s just your luck!”

“I told you to shut up!” Sakura yelled, putting the puppy down and then lunging at Kiba, annoyed.

The two genin wrestled again, but this time the new member didn’t hold back: Kurogane leaped at Kiba with a sharp bark, biting his leg. Akamaru joined the chaos to defend his own master as well.

“Shannaro!”

They spent the entire morning playing and running around like kids. It was the last peaceful morning Sakura would ever have in his life—and he didn’t even know it.

Chapter Text

Sakura ran as fast as he could, with Kurogane following close behind—now sporting a pretty pink ribbon tied around her neck like a collar—until he reached the training field where he was supposed to meet his team.

It hadn’t been his intention to be late, but he had accidentally gotten distracted while playing with Kiba and then picking ribbons to make Kurogane look pretty. Well… prettier than she already was.

When he arrived, he found Naruto and Sasuke practicing in the middle of the field: the blond was throwing kunai with exaggerated enthusiasm while the Uchiha blocked with a gesture as dry as it was annoyed. Kakashi, on the other hand, was reading his book, perched on one of the wooden posts.

The sound of hurried footsteps and Kurogane’s panting drew the attention of all three.

“Late again, Sakura!” Sasuke growled, turning his head with a frown.

Sakura frowned back at Sasuke because—when the hell had he ever been late to training before? Those words made no sense! Especially not considering this was their first official training session together.

“Huh? And that dog?” Naruto practically dropped the kunai and ran toward them, his eyes shining with excitement. “Whoa, she’s huge! And she’s got a ribbon!”

Kurogane barked once, wagging her tail as she stepped between Naruto and Sakura, watching him with a wary gleam in her eyes. Still catching his breath, Sakura smiled proudly and rested his hand on the pup’s back.

“Her name’s Kurogane,” he told them. “Isn’t she the prettiest ninken you’ve ever seen?” His voice turned syrupy as he knelt in front of his pup, scratching behind her ears. He laughed when Kurogane licked his face.

Sasuke snorted at the scene, turning away as if he had just wasted his time. Naruto, on the other hand, leaned so far toward Kurogane that he looked about ready to drop to all fours himself.

“Hey, hey! Can I pet her? Can I, Sakura-chan? C’mon, please!” Naruto stretched out his hands, eager, with that boundless childish energy that always seemed to burst out in every direction.

Kurogane gave a low growl, just a warning rumble in her throat, and Sakura quickly stood up to place a firm hand on the pup’s back.

“No, not yet. I just adopted her and she still needs time to get used to people,” he explained softly, almost apologetically on behalf of his canine partner. Then, with pride: “Kurogane knows who to trust.”

Naruto groaned loudly, crossing his arms. “Tch! Just like you, Sasuke, always with that grumpy face, dattebayo!”

“Stop comparing me to a dog,” Sasuke replied without looking at him, adjusting the kunai in his hand.

“Don’t compare Kurogane to that idiot, you moron!” Sakura shouted at Naruto, irritated.

From his post, Kakashi finally lifted his gaze from his book. With his single eye half-lidded, he took in the scene: Sakura kneeling beside an oversized but clearly still young pup, Naruto making a fuss, Sasuke already impatient.

“Well, looks like we’ve got a new member on the team,” he murmured in his lazy tone, making it unclear whether he was serious or joking. Then he stretched lazily and, with a light slap to close his book, added: “All right. Naruto, Sasuke, keep at it. I want to see how you handle the distance between attack and defense.”

Naruto protested immediately: “What?! But I want—!”

“Now, Naruto.” Kakashi’s voice didn’t change tone, but the command was clear. The blond grumbled, spun on his heel, and charged back at Sasuke, who was already waiting for him with a dry expression.

Only then did Kakashi lower his gaze toward Sakura, though he didn’t linger. “Catch your breath, you ran here,” he remarked, more like an observation than actual concern. A second later he reopened his book, his attention back on the boys’ spar.

Sakura stayed crouched beside Kurogane, stroking her back gently as he regained his breath. Kakashi-sensei would probably make him train hard soon, so if he was giving him a break, he’d take full advantage of it.

“Where’d you get that ninken, Sakura-chan?” Kakashi asked, without taking his eyes off his book.

“Kiba’s mom, Tsume-sama, gave her to me this morning,” Sakura replied brightly. “It’s my birthday present! Honestly, I didn’t think a pup would choose me, but Kurogane did. Isn’t that awesome? She’s such a strong, tough pup! Super cool!”

“Mm?” was all Kakashi answered, with that neutral hum that didn’t reveal whether he was interested or not.

But for Sakura, it was encouragement enough to keep talking, his hand sliding through Kurogane’s dark fur. “This morning I trained with Kiba, you know? After I adopted Kurogane, he showed me how to handle her. He was demonstrating how ninken coordinate with their partners, and then, out of nowhere, Kurogane came straight to me when Kiba attacked. It was amazing!”

Kakashi tilted his book just slightly, enough to show a raised eyebrow above the mask. “Hm. So that happened.”

“Exactly!” Sakura nodded enthusiastically, as if the fact his sensei was listening gave him even more energy. “And then I went with Kiba to the market because I wanted to buy something pretty for my beautiful girl, and guess what? There are a million different ribbons! We tried a red one, but it didn’t look right… then a blue one, but it looked like she was going to some weird party. The yellow one was cute, but we weren’t sure… and in the end, this pink one was perfect, don’t you think?”

Kurogane gave a soft bark, as if backing up the decision.

“Uh-huh,” Kakashi replied, flipping the page like the story was just background narration—yet without missing a single detail.

Encouraged, Sakura went on: “And Kurogane runs super fast! This morning we tried running in the plain behind the shop and I almost tripped because she was leaving me behind. And she’s got these huge fangs! Kiba says in a few months she’ll be ready for more serious training than what the Inuzuka gave her, but even now you can tell she’s got amazing combat instincts. Can you imagine? Me and Kurogane fighting together, like an unstoppable duo!”

Meanwhile, Naruto’s shouting carried from the center of the field: “Gyaaaah! Stop moving so much, teme!” followed by the metallic clash of kunai and Sasuke’s annoyed grunt.

“You’re going to run out of breath if you keep talking that fast,” Kakashi observed, in the most neutral tone imaginable—like he was just commenting on the weather. “Breathe.”

Sakura blinked, surprised, then laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck. A soft blush touched his cheeks. “Ah… well, it’s just that… I’m excited, sensei! Kurogane and I will definitely be an amazing duo… We’ll make any enemy fear us on missions!”

Kakashi tilted his head slightly, and though his eyes were back on his book, he seemed more than aware of his student’s enthusiasm. “Mm. That’s good.”

Kurogane barked again, loudly, as if confirming Kakashi’s words, which made Sakura laugh even more.

“See?! Even Kurogane agrees with me!”

Naruto, distracted by the bark, turned his head: “Hey, Sasuke! When Kurogane grows up, I’m gonna ask Sakura-chan to lend us her dog for training! Imagine how cool that would be—!”

A sharp punch from Sasuke shut him up immediately.

Kakashi sighed quietly, turning a page of his book.

Sakura settled down on the grass, still a little out of breath, and began petting Kurogane again while talking nonstop. He didn’t like the silence that had fallen, so he decided to keep speaking to his sensei.

“The best thing is how she follows me everywhere. If I crouch, she crouches! If I run, she runs. Even when I stop suddenly, she just looks at me like she’s waiting for the next order. It’s amazing! Like she understands me!”

Kurogane lifted her head proudly, as if confirming the exaggeration.

Kakashi flipped another page without flinching, but his ear was attentive.

“Oh, and she growls really loud when someone gets too close. At the market, she almost bit a guy who tried to pet her head without permission. Can you imagine? I’ve only known her since this morning and she already seems like she wants to protect me. Isn’t that incredible, sensei?”

“Hmm.” It was Kakashi’s only reply, short and in that indecipherable tone that never made clear whether he was paying attention or not.

But Sakura took it as encouragement to continue. “I’m thinking that if I train her well, we could do combination techniques. Like Kiba and Akamaru! I can already imagine it: I throw a kunai, and she lunges at the same time! Or maybe we could do a distraction maneuver. Wouldn’t that be awesome, Kakashi-sensei?”

Kakashi lifted his gaze for just a moment—long enough to glance sideways at him with that tilted eye that never revealed much. Sakura, excited, looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for approval.

“It’s possible,” he finally answered, with the calm of someone who didn’t want to crush the motivation, but also didn’t want to feed it too much, lest Sakura do something reckless—as he often seemed inclined to.

Naruto shouted in the background after being shoved by Sasuke, but Sakura hardly noticed. His eyes gleamed a little as he went on, almost as if trying to capture his teacher’s full attention:

“Oh, and did I tell you that Kurogane runs faster than she looks? If you see her, sensei, you’ll be surprised! This morning I almost tripped because I didn’t expect her to catch up so quickly. And she’s not just fast—she’s smart! I’m sure she can learn anything I teach her. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

The dog barked enthusiastically. Sakura laughed and hugged her around the neck, not noticing the way Kakashi watched him over the edge of his book for a second longer than usual.

Finally, the jōnin closed the volume with a soft snap of pages. “All right,” he said with no apparent emotion. “Naruto and Sasuke will continue their coordination drills. You…” he lazily pointed a finger at him, “I want you to do two hundred push-ups. Right here.”

“Eh?” Sakura looked at him in surprise, still kneeling beside Kurogane. “Why just me?”

Kakashi shrugged with a casualness that was almost offensive. “Everyone has their own pace. And you arrived later than I did. That’s your punishment.”

Sakura opened his mouth to protest, but upon seeing Kakashi’s single eye watching him calmly—that eye that allowed no argument, even if it looked lazy—he pressed his lips together, sighed, and dropped onto the grass face-down.

Kurogane lay down beside him, mimicking his posture and wagging her tail.

After a pause, Kakashi reopened his book. “Oh, and make sure you don’t stop until you finish. I want to see if you have the discipline to match all that energy.” The voice was calm, almost careless, but beneath it there was an edge Sakura couldn’t ignore.

“Yes, sensei!” he answered firmly, starting to count his push-ups while Kurogane encouraged him with short barks.

Kakashi didn’t say anything else, but as he turned the page, a tiny smile tugged beneath the mask.

.

.

.

.

Sakura sighed as he walked alongside his team toward the Hokage’s tower. His hands were clasped behind his back while Kurogane padded by his side, this time with a yellow ribbon tied around her neck.

It had been a full week spent getting to know each other and training. A week since Kakashi had made him train alone. At first, he thought it was because he had shown up late on the first day of training, and then again on the second day. But after that, he was never late again, and still, his sensei had him train by himself while Naruto and Sasuke sparred.

Well, at least he had Kurogane. And Sakura supposed he should have been happy with the training tasks Kakashi had given him to improve his battle work with her. It had been thoughtful of his sensei, really, to take the time to show him how to treat his puppy, what commands to give and what not to do. And it was even more generous that his sensei had taught him a couple of techniques he could use with Kurogane. But even so…

Honestly, Sakura wasn’t sure why his sensei still hadn’t made him train alongside Naruto and Sasuke.

He sighed again, louder than he meant to, and lowered his gaze to the dirt road. Kurogane walked calmly, as though nothing in the world could unsettle her, and Sakura envied that quiet steadiness.

Why…?

His hands tightened behind his back. The echoes of the past week slipped back into his mind: Naruto and Sasuke clashing, shouting, pushing their limits under Kakashi’s sharp supervision… while he received simple orders like, “practice with Kurogane,” “make sure to synchronize her movements,” “correct her jumping posture.”

Yes, he had learned useful things. Yes, Kakashi had been patient in teaching him how to guide his partner. It wasn’t that he was treated badly… but it wasn’t the same. Kakashi didn’t look at him with the same intensity he gave Naruto and Sasuke when they fought.

'Is it because I was late? Or because he saw me with Kurogane and thinks I’m not good for anything else?'

“Maybe he’s just prioritizing your training with Kurogane before putting you together with the rest of the team,” Inner tried to encourage him.

Sakura wanted to believe that. But… what if it wasn’t? What if it was simply…?

The thought stabbed his stomach like a thorn.

He tried to shake it off, raising his head to look at Kakashi, who was walking ahead, flipping through that damned book without a care. Naruto was talking loudly about how amazing their first mission would be, and Sasuke walked in silence, ignoring him. Everything seemed so normal, so easy for them.

Sakura swallowed hard.

Maybe his sensei thought he couldn’t keep up with his teammates… maybe he saw Sakura as someone easily distracted, someone who couldn’t focus, someone weak. Maybe he shouldn’t have been late those first two days.

Damn it. He’d ruined everything.

The thought made his lips press together tightly. He couldn’t fail. He couldn’t. Not when he carried the expectation of bringing honor to his family, of compensating for what he was, of proving he wasn’t a disgrace.

Almost without thinking, Sakura stroked Kurogane’s neck, seeking in her warmth the reassurance he couldn’t find in himself. The puppy lifted her head for a moment, brushing his hand with her ear, as if she could feel the tension her partner was trying to hide.

Sakura lowered his gaze again, watching his sandals sink into the dirt. The thought coiled in his chest: Maybe Kakashi-sensei didn’t care about him.

A grimace tugged at his lips. Was Kakashi-sensei only training him out of obligation? Because he had to? The thought hurt, but in a way, it made sense. Sakura was nothing but cannon fodder in the team, the son of civilians, objectively the weakest member.

With Naruto and Sasuke, the intensity was different: their sensei corrected them, tested them. He challenged them as if he truly expected them to become something great.

But Sakura… Sakura got the basic tasks. As though Kakashi was content so long as he didn’t get in the way. He even spoke to him more gently than to Naruto and Sasuke, treated him with more kindness. It was completely unfair!

The silence of the road grew unbearable.

Naruto’s chatter mixed with the crunch of boots on the dirt, as if everything around him wanted to remind Sakura that he didn’t belong there.

I’m not enough, he thought. He had to work harder, even if it meant training alone, just so he could prove to his sensei later that he was worth the time. That he wasn’t just… cannon fodder. That he wasn’t just a disgrace, even if he was.

“We’ve talked about this, Sakura. You’re not a disgrace,” Inner scolded him.

“I am,” Sakura answered. And the thought—no, the conviction—surfaced with the ease of something repeated daily, like a learned reflex, like something he truly believed.

Sakura remembered his mother’s severe face, the word he had heard so many times it was almost like a surname: disgrace. The voice rang so clear in his mind he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from answering out loud.

«"If you were something else… if you had been born different, we wouldn’t have to carry the shame.”»

Sakura hunched his shoulders unconsciously. Maybe Kakashi had noticed too. Maybe he saw him the same way: a mistake. Maybe he had realized Sakura’s true nature and now despised him for it. It made sense.

Naruto had strength and determination. Sasuke had talent and cold resolve. But what did he have, besides pretty pink hair and lies?

A tongue licked his hand, and he looked at Kurogane. A small smile curved his lips. “I’m fine, girl,” he told her.

Right. He had Kurogane. He had something good, too.

Sakura tried to comfort himself with what he’d learned that week—the commands, the coordination, the polished movements with Kurogane—but even that memory didn’t ease the weight in his chest. It all felt like training off to the side, a corner to keep him where he wouldn’t bother the others.

His fingers played with the yellow ribbon around Kurogane’s neck.

He lifted his head once more toward Kakashi’s back. The sensei kept reading, relaxed, as if nothing in the world could disturb that calm. Not a glance behind, not even checking if the team was still following.

“I want him to see me.” The words slipped out of Sakura’s mouth, soft and low, like a murmur not meant to be heard. His eyes shone with unshed tears and determination.

That desire—so small and yet so devastating—lodged in his chest. He didn’t want gifts, or patience, or kind explanations, or gentle tones when people spoke to him. He wanted Kakashi to look at him the way he looked at Naruto and Sasuke when they fought: with sharp seriousness, with the promise that he was worth refining, that there was potential there. Even the blows he gave them when they disobeyed or fought each other—Sakura wanted those too.

A tingling ran up his neck. Anxiety, expectation, and fear tangled together on a tightrope. His first mission… his first real chance to prove he wasn’t a burden. That he could do more than show up late, more than follow simple orders, more than hold Kurogane’s leash, more than just watch.

If he failed…

No. He wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t.

Kurogane nudged his hand again with her nose, as if trying to anchor him to the present. Sakura swallowed and pressed his lips until it hurt.

He was going to prove it, he swore. Even if it broke him, Sakura was going to prove that he was worth it—to the team, and to his sensei.

.

.

.

The mission success rate had increased considerably ever since Sakura had forced himself to cover not only his own share of the work but also Naruto’s and Sasuke’s whenever the two of them argued. Of course, no one had noticed that he was really doing that, but that was fine with the pink-haired boy. He didn’t need the attention of his teammates or sensei just yet. Not until he proved he was enough.

On the other hand, the money he had been earning was working out wonderfully. He had started saving as much as he could after buying Kurogane’s things and investing in extra training equipment. In fact, he had even strapped on special training weights around his ankles and wrists, which he passed off as stylish daily accessories, while performing a series of incredibly strenuous katas (he had found them in a book at the library) for an extended period of time every morning after waking up and every night before going to bed.

Of course, Sakura knew that wasn’t nearly as much as the kind of training Sasuke and Naruto surely had, but for now, it was the best he could manage between missions, chores, and team training.

Unfortunately for him, it was also wearing him down far more than expected. Which was causing him to react a little slower in some situations—like now, while they were chasing the cat.

“Sasuke, here at point B!” His least favorite teammate’s voice sounded even graver through the radio. Sakura shuddered in disgust.

“Sakura and Kurogane here at point C!” he reported right after.

There was silence for a couple of seconds.

“Naruto here at point A!”

“You’re slow, Naruto,” Kakashi scolded. “All right, Team 7… huh?”

A sharp crack rang out as their target bolted from its hiding place.

“The target has moved! Follow it!”

“Got it! Over there!” Naruto shouted.

The three of them launched quickly and silently into the neighboring trees.

“What’s your distance from the target?” Kakashi asked.

“Five meters. I can get it whenever I want!” Naruto reported impatiently.

“I’m ready too!” Sasuke was equally impatient to succeed.

“Me too…” Sakura thought this wasn’t the best idea. Cats grew nervous and fierce when they were frightened; if they all rushed it now, it would only bolt again. They weren’t even surrounding it properly—they’d attack from one wall, and that would surely scare it off. And Kurogane’s presence wasn’t helping much either.

Although…

“All right,” Kakashi’s voice came through the earpiece, “do it!”

“Wait!” Sakura saw Naruto nearly lose his balance, and Sasuke shot him a glare.

“What?” The pink-haired boy noticed that Naruto’s rough tone wasn’t annoyance at him but rather impatience to finish that stupid mission. Oddly enough, Naruto never seemed to get mad at him anyway.

“If we all rush it at once, we’ll scare it,” Sakura warned them. “We have to be cautious.”

“Got a better idea?” Sasuke asked.

Sakura swallowed, tightening his grip on Kurogane’s leash as the cat darted nimbly between the branches. His heart was racing—not so much because of the difficulty of the mission, but because this was the first time he dared to openly contradict his teammates’ impulses.

“Yes,” he answered firmly, though his voice wavered just a little. “We can catch it without frightening it. Listen: Sasuke, you and Naruto take the flanks. Don’t get too close—just make yourselves visible enough to cut off its escape.”

Naruto was already about to protest, but Sakura raised his voice quickly before he could interrupt.

“I’ll handle guiding it! Kurogane will follow from behind, slowly, without making noise. She’s fast, but she can control herself if I tell her to. And when the cat sees it has nowhere to escape…” Sakura gestured with his eyes toward a small clearing a few meters ahead. “…we’ll drive it into that open space. There, it won’t have anywhere to climb.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And what then? You catch it?”

Sakura clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. “I’ll be in the center, waiting. Kurogane will drive it straight to me, and we’ll catch it without hurting it.”

“You’re so smart, Sakura-chan! Really!” Naruto exclaimed with a cheerful grin.

Sakura offered him a small smile in return.

From the earpiece, Kakashi’s laid-back voice broke through the tension: “Hmm… interesting strategy. All right, follow Sakura’s plan.”

Kurogane gave a short bark, as if confirming her partner’s command. Sakura smiled a little, nervous, patting the dog’s head before whispering: “Ready, girl? Let’s show them what we can do.”

As Naruto and Sasuke moved into position, Sakura settled into the indicated clearing, feeling anxiety knot in his stomach. If this failed, he’d look like an idiot in front of everyone… but if it worked, maybe then his team would finally recognize the effort he was putting in. Maybe they’d start acknowledging him, little by little.

And more than anything, he’d prove he wasn’t a burden. He wasn’t just the disgrace his parents said he was—he was something more, even if it wasn’t obvious.

“Sasuke in position.” Sasuke’s voice came through his ear. Sakura ignored the chill that ran down his spine again, grimacing in distaste.

“Both of you, move when I give the signal.” He inhaled deeply and shouted: “Kurogane, now! Guys!”

The dog launched into the chase. The cat leapt at the same time as Naruto and Sasuke. Only they were faster, and the cat, its attention fixed solely on the massive canine pursuing it, ended up darting straight toward Sakura. Unfortunately, it veered off at the last moment.

“Damn it!” Sakura cursed, starting to run toward the cat.

“Uyaaahhh! Got it!” Naruto, luckily a bit closer, caught it mid-leap—much to the cat’s displeasure, as it immediately began clawing at the blonde’s face.

Sakura was grateful he hadn’t been the one to grab the animal. “I’m definitely more of a dog person. I don’t think I could’ve handled that beast on my own,” he told Sasuke, shaking his head as he looked at Naruto. The dark-haired boy seemed to smile.

“Does it have the ribbon on its right ear? Are you sure this is our target, Tora?” Kakashi’s voice crackled over the radio.

“It’s the target, no doubt about it,” Sasuke replied calmly, completely ignoring the screams of his blond teammate as the cat continued its assault.

“Good! The mission to capture the lost pet ‘Tora’ is complete,” Kakashi told them. “Nice work, you three!” A bark followed. “Ah—sorry, Kurogane-chan, I meant nice work, all four of you!”

“ISN’T THERE A MISSION WITH MORE URGENCY THAN THIS!?” Naruto shouted, practically blowing out the earpiece—and everyone’s hearing along with it.

They returned Tora to its owner as ordered. The woman nearly smothered the creature in her embrace. Sakura didn’t dare feel sorry for the cat after seeing what it had done to Naruto’s face.

“Serves you right! Stupid cat!” Naruto growled as he watched the scene.

“No wonder it ran away…” Sakura muttered. Sasuke nodded, and Kurogane barked in agreement before getting distracted trying to stick her nose into Kakashi’s pocket. The man discreetly handed her a dog treat while patting her head.

Sakura thought that, so far, Kakashi’s favorite team member was Kurogane. He wasn’t surprised. His girl really was adorable.

Chapter Text

Sakura ran all the way home, laughing brightly as Kurogane chased after him. He was thrilled. This would be his first mission outside the village, which meant he was one step closer to becoming someone honorable.
The fresh air of Konoha hit his face, making the pink ribbon around Kurogane’s neck flutter as she barked happily, keeping up with him. Sakura could hardly contain the energy bursting inside him; his heart seemed to want to outrun his feet.

“Kurogane, do you realize?” he said to his ninken companion. “Outside the village! Finally! It won’t just be another errand, or chasing cats, or hauling boxes. This time… this time we’ll be real shinobi!”

Kurogane barked back, and a bubbling laugh escaped Sakura’s lips, unable to hold back his excitement.

He wove through the market crowd, nearly bumping into a couple of passersby while waving quickly. “Sorry, sorry!” he said between laughs, never slowing for a second.

Sakura turned the corner into his street, chest still vibrating with anticipation. He felt that every step brought him closer to his dream, that each heartbeat pushed him forward with more force than the last.

“We’ll be part of something real, Kurogane!” he exclaimed, raising his arms for a moment as if he could catch the blue sky above Konoha. “No more watching from the shadows of others—this time, I’ll prove it too!”

The dog barked energetically, leaping at his side, and Sakura bent slightly to pat her back as he kept running.

The village felt different that day. The market stalls, the cries of vendors, even the scent of freshly baked bread from the corner bakery… everything seemed to shine a little brighter. It was as if Konoha itself knew he was about to leave it behind for the first time. Not forever, of course, but enough to mark a before and after in his life.

He reached his house panting, pushing the door open almost with a crash. He ran upstairs two at a time, with Kurogane scrambling behind, claws scratching against the floor as she tried to keep up. Sakura threw open his closet and examined his clothes with critical eyes, as if it were a life-or-death decision.

“I need something durable… no, lighter. What if it rains? Hm, I’ll take the raincoat too. Oh! And extra bandages, you never know. Naruto will definitely forget his…” he muttered, pulling out garments, rolling up bandages, and checking his kunai with nervous intensity.

He tried on a couple of jackets in front of the mirror, tilting his head. “Is this too flashy? No, I don’t want to stand out too much… But I don’t want to look sloppy either. Tch, why is this so hard?”

Kurogane barked once, sitting beside the bed, watching him with patient eyes.

“What? I have the right to be nervous!” Sakura shot back, then immediately laughed at himself, rubbing his face with both hands. “It’s not nerves… it’s excitement. This time… this time I’ll prove I deserve to be a shinobi. That I’m more than… than the boy who just fills in the gaps when the others can’t.”

He froze for a moment, the pink ribbon around Kurogane’s neck glowing in the window light. That ribbon was ridiculous and cute, but it was also proof that he wasn’t alone.

Sakura clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes.
“We’ll do it right, Kurogane. This mission will be the beginning. The first real step.”

Kurogane stood up and rested her muzzle on his hand, as if approving his vow. Sakura smiled, lighter now.

He finished packing a small backpack, adjusting the hidden weights at his wrists and ankles. He had no intention of taking them off: if he was going to train, he would do it all the time. Finally, he looked once more at the mirror and nodded firmly.
“Ready.”

He moved downstairs, ready to pack food for himself and Kurogane, only to freeze when he saw her: his mother.

“Sakura,” the woman greeted sweetly. There was warmth in her eyes. Sakura moved toward her, sinking into her embrace. “My, I didn’t think my little girl would miss me so much.”

A painful pang hit his chest at those words, but he said nothing. Instead, he buried his nose against his mother’s chest. “Mom, I missed you,” he murmured. And it wasn’t a lie. Even if he had enjoyed the freedom of being alone, he truly had missed his parents.

His mother held him tighter, as if she could make up for all the days they’d been apart in a single moment. “We missed you too, Sakura. The trip was exhausting… but coming back and seeing you so lively makes it all lighter.”

A deep voice sounded from the entrance: “Lively? I’d say it looks like she’s about to explode.”

Sakura spun immediately and smiled at the sight of his father, still wearing his travel jacket with a faint look of fatigue on his face. Even so, his eyes gleamed with pride.

“Dad!” he ran to him and hugged him too, laughing between them both. The man lifted Sakura, spinning him a couple of times before setting him down. “Look at you, my girl already looks like a proper kunoichi. How did training go this time?”

Unable to contain himself, Sakura practically burst with excitement: “Forget the boring errands! I’ve got a real mission! Outside the village!”

“Well, that’s amazing, sweetheart.” The man’s gaze shifted to Kurogane. “And who might this be?”

“Kurogane,” Sakura said quickly, rushing over to his dog. “She’s mine. Inuzuka-sama gave her to me at Kiba’s request.”

His mother’s smile widened. “Is that so?” she asked. And Sakura thought he had never seen her so happy before. “Then this must be a courting gift!”

What?

Sakura blinked.

“How wonderful!” the woman exclaimed, clasping her hands together with a near-theatrical expression.

“Courting…?” Sakura echoed uncertainly, not knowing whether to laugh or deny it.

Mebuki, giving him no space to react, pressed on with a voice full of enthusiasm: “Of course! What else could it mean that an Inuzuka gave you a ninken? It’s a great honor, Sakura, and a very clear sign. You must take good care of it, because what it represents is even greater than the dog itself.”

Sakura felt a knot in his stomach, unable to refute his mother’s words. What if they forced him to give up Kurogane if he denied it? What if he angered his mother?

“I… of course I’ll take care of her, Mom,” he murmured.

His father chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. “Mebuki, don’t exaggerate. It’s just a puppy for training.”

“It’s not just a puppy!” she retorted with bright eyes, gripping her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s the beginning of a bond. And with such a respected clan! Sakura, do you understand what this means? Not everyone is lucky enough to be considered for something like this. You might not even need to become more than a genin at this rate.”

Sakura nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. His stomach felt like stone. “Yes, Mom. I understand.”

Mebuki’s smile softened, turning more maternal. She stroked his cheek with a tenderness that contrasted with her ambitious words. “Then do it well, daughter. Don’t let an opportunity like this slip by.”

Sakura bit his lip for an instant, but then forced himself to smile, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around him. “I will. This time… I won’t fail.”

“That’s better.” His mother kissed his forehead, then stepped back gracefully, as though the scene had ended to her satisfaction.

Kizashi cleared his throat and, with a conspiratorial glance toward Sakura, pointed at the half-packed backpack. “Is that why you were rummaging around? Already packing?”

“Yes! We leave in two hours!” Sakura replied, his eyes shining with excitement.

His father smiled proudly, and in that moment, Sakura convinced himself everything was in order. That this time he would do well. That nothing could break the warm bubble surrounding them.

“I’m going to get some snacks for Kurogane and pack food for myself too,” he told them with a smile.

His father nodded. “I’ve got some matters to settle with one of our clan cousins. It’s a shame I can’t spend more time with you, but do your best on the mission, sweetheart.” He kissed his forehead. “Good luck, my little flower!”

Sakura watched his father leave, his chest glowing warmer as he turned to prepare something quickly. A few minutes later, he was still humming softly while shaping onigiri in the kitchen. Kurogane dozed at his feet, her pink ribbon shifting faintly with her steady breathing. Everything felt calm, so calm that Sakura barely noticed the sudden silence in the house.

A silence that chilled his blood.

“What’s this?” His mother’s voice drifted from the top of the stairs—sing-song and gentle, but with that hidden edge Sakura knew too well. The sound made his fingers clench into the rice, deforming the triangle without realizing.

When he looked up, Mebuki was descending with a piece of clothing in her hands, dangling like an offense: a wide, dirty jacket-shirt.

Sakura felt his heart drop into his stomach. Oh no. He had forgotten to wash and hide that.

“It’s… mine,” he stammered, barely above a whisper.

“Yours?” Mebuki repeated, smiling—but it was the kind of smile that pressed lips too tightly. She walked slowly to the table, caressing the fabric with her fingertips as if it were something fragile. “How strange… because I don’t recall allowing you to wear this kind of clothing.”

Sakura swallowed hard. His throat was dry, rough. Kurogane lifted her head, uneasy, but didn’t move. “I… I bought it. For training. It’s comfortable.”

“Sakura…” Mebuki murmured, her hand cupping his cheek gently. “My sweet girl…” Her fingers slipped into his hair, stroking it. “Why are you like this, mhm? Why do you always disobey Mommy?”

“I…” Sakura trembled.

“Don’t you understand… that Mommy just wants to protect you?” Her grip on his hair tightened, yanking hard. “Why do you always have to ruin everything, Sakura?!”

Sakura pressed his lips together, his heart pounding against his ribs so fast it hurt. The sticky rice crumbled between his sweaty fingers. The mild scent of seaweed and steam mixed with his mother’s sweet perfume, suffocating, because he had learned to associate it with danger.

“M-Mom…” he managed to say, his voice barely a whisper.

Mebuki tilted her head, her lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. With her free hand, she brushed a strand of hair from Sakura’s face, the touch of her nails far too cold to be maternal.

“I work so hard… so, so hard… so that you never lack anything, Sakura. So that you can have a worthy future, and this is what you do?” Her voice remained soft, melodious, almost like a lullaby. But the pressure on Sakura’s hair suddenly increased, forcing out a strangled gasp.

Kurogane growled low, rising to her feet, but stopped instantly when Sakura extended a trembling arm toward her. “It’s fine, Kurogane. Stay…” he murmured, swallowing down the desperation clawing at his throat.

The pull on his hair forced his neck to arch back, tears welling at the corners of his eyes without permission.

“Look at me.”

He did. And it was worse. Because his mother’s smile was gone, replaced only by fury. Fury so vast, so terrifying, that Sakura wanted to run.

“Do you know what people see when you go out wearing this?” Mebuki shook the jacket in front of his face, brushing it against his skin. “They see a girl who doesn’t respect her mother. A girl who brings no honor to her clan. A girl… vulgar.”

Every word was a knife disguised as a caress.

Sakura wanted to answer, wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, that he only needed comfortable clothes to train. He wanted to say he wasn’t trying to dishonor the clan. He wanted to defend himself as he would on a mission, but his knees trembled, his muscles locked and refused to obey. He couldn’t. His body was shackled by fear, so strong it reduced him to a defenseless child.

Mebuki sighed, as though this pained her more than him. Then, without warning, the pull on his hair turned into a sharp slam against the table. The dull thud echoed in Sakura’s ears, sparks dancing before his eyes. Rice scattered, sticking to his damp cheek.

“Mom… please…” Sakura whimpered, voice broken. Kurogane growled, seeming on the verge of leaping at the adult woman.

“Shhh…” Mebuki gently stroked the spot she had struck, as if trying to soothe him. “Don’t make me be so harsh, Sakura. I don’t want to punish you. But if you won’t obey me… what choice do you leave me?”

Tears now flowed freely, hot, mixing with the cold grains stuck to his skin. Sakura’s chest heaved in spasms, as if he were running, though he was still. His breathing was uneven, his throat knotted too tightly to even swallow.

“I… I understand, Mom,” he stammered. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

The glint in Mebuki’s eyes softened slightly, but she didn’t release her grip. She stared at him, as if weighing whether it was enough, whether his plea was real. And in that suffocating silence, Sakura knew that no matter how much he swore or obeyed: it would never be enough.

“Go upstairs,” Mebuki ordered. “It seems it’s been too long since I’ve educated you properly.”

A shiver ran through him. “Yes, Mother,” he murmured, moving toward the stairs to his room. “Come, Kurogane.”

His body trembled, fear flooding every part of him.

Guilt burned him from within, as though every muscle, every fiber of his being, was filled with ash he himself had lit. There were no excuses. No way to escape the punishment he knew was coming. Even with his training, even with his shinobi skills, he couldn’t stand against the force that his mother embodied.

He heard soft steps ascending the stairs. Each creak of wood boomed in his ears like a war drum. The air of the room grew denser, heavier, suffocating. His stomach knotted, icy dread crawling up his spine.

Kurogane whimpered, sniffing the air cautiously. With a soft gasp, Sakura petted her, his voice barely a whisper. “Wait here, Kurogane… I don’t want you hurt too.” With trembling hands, he opened the bathroom door, guiding the pup inside with care. He shut it, making sure the latch clicked firmly so she couldn’t get out.

Mebuki’s voice sounded behind the bedroom door, sing-song and sweet, like she was lulling a child: “My sweet girl… it seems this time I’ll have to teach you the lesson properly.”

Sakura swallowed hard, trembling. “Yes, Mother…” he barely managed.

A second later, the door opened slowly. The woman entered, her steps light but deliberate. Her cold gaze fixed on Sakura.

He quickly undressed, placing his hands at his sides under his mother’s watchful eyes. The punishment would begin soon; Sakura knew it. The belt she never hesitated to use was there.

Sakura closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, fists clenched at his sides. Every muscle was rigid, bracing for pain, and at the same time unable to fight back, knowing obedience was his only weapon to protect Kurogane and, in part, himself.

The first strike came without warning, a sharp lash across his thigh that made him gasp. The belt left a burning mark, heat spreading from the skin down to the deepest nerves. Sakura swallowed hard, staying silent, squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself to breathe deeply.

Another blow followed, firmer this time, marking the other thigh. The vibration of the impact coursed through his body, mingling with the guilt he felt for everything: for the jacket, for Kurogane, for breaking the rules without thinking of the consequences. Each strike reminded him there was no escape, that he couldn’t use his strength or speed; this battle wasn’t won with shinobi techniques, but with absolute submission.

Sakura felt the belt graze other places where the marks wouldn’t show, his body trembling uncontrollably in response to the pain. Each strike was a reminder of his fragility before Mebuki, of the fact that there was no hiding, no resisting. Each blow was punishment deserved — for disobedience, for being what he was, for being a disgrace to his family and parents.

His breathing grew uneven, ragged; his heart pounded so hard it seemed ready to burst from his chest. Each strike bent his knees slightly, but he forced himself to stand rigid, as tears spilled unchecked. No words, no pleas; only the silent acceptance of punishment he believed he deserved.

Mebuki, unsmiling, delivered each strike with precision, alternating harshness and deceptive softness, a cruel rhythm that made Sakura feel every impact differently: some sharp and stinging, others dull and searing. Her every move was calculated, an exercise of absolute control.

Sakura squeezed his eyes tighter, fists clenched at his sides, the burning mixing with a bone-deep fear. He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t scream. He could only endure, waiting for each strike to be another step toward the redemption he knew he’d never grant himself.

The room smelled of leather and wood, laced with the familiar scent of Mebuki, sweet but heavy with authority. Kurogane’s barks echoed faintly, the sound of her body slamming against the bathroom door in a desperate attempt to reach him.

Every sound—the swish of the belt, his mother’s breathing, the furious pounding of his heart—amplified in his senses, trapping Sakura in a whirlwind of pain and guilt. He remained still, rigid, mind focused only on not making a sound, not screaming, not rebelling. Obedience had become his only defense, though deep down he knew it was his fault that things happened this way.

After what felt like an eternity, the strikes ceased. Mebuki inhaled, her eyes scanning Sakura’s body, weighing, contemplating her authority fulfilled, before turning without another word and leaving. The creak of the door closing echoed in Sakura’s ears, leaving behind an icy emptiness.

He stayed still for a few seconds, eyes shut, trying to process the lingering pain that still burned across his skin. Every muscle stiff, every nerve hypersensitive. Relief that it was over mingled with the fear still pulsing in his chest; he couldn’t stop trembling, though slowly, tears began to spill freely.

With a trembling effort, he stood, leaning against the wall for support. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart and uneven breathing. His shaking hands reached for Kurogane in the bathroom.

“It’s alright, Kurogane… you can come out now,” he murmured, opening the door softly. The pup greeted him with a gentle wag of her tail, sniffing him, sensing his state.

Sakura crouched, stroking her carefully, letting her soft fur absorb part of the weight of his fear and pain. Kurogane pressed against him, her warmth and steady presence soothing.

“It’s okay, girl,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” He assured her. “Don’t worry, pretty one, I deserved this.” His voice broke. “It’s because I messed up again, so it’s okay.”

Carefully, Sakura sat on the bed, pulling out the small first aid kit hidden beneath it to take out bandages and ointments for the welts the belt had left on his skin.

Each strike still hurt, but he knew he had to protect his body, keep the marks discreet. As he wrapped the bandages around his thighs, arms, and sides, he closed his eyes, focusing on each movement, breathing slow and deep. The touch of cotton on his injured skin was strange, painful and comforting all at once.

Kurogane curled up beside him, resting her head on his lap as he finished bandaging. The dog gave a small lick to his hand, a silent gesture of understanding. Sakura managed a faint smile, despite the bruises already blooming on his skin, reminding him to move carefully so no one else would see.

“Thank you, Kurogane… thank you for waiting for me,” he whispered, a lump rising in his throat, a mix of deep relief and guilt. Each bandage applied was also a reminder that he had to be more careful, more mindful of his actions and how the consequences could strike harder than expected.

When he finished, he lay back for a moment, letting the dog’s warmth and steady breathing calm him. Even with the lingering pain and fear, he felt a little more whole, more capable of moving forward. He slowly sat up again, stroking his ninken.

“It’s okay… we’ll get through this, Kurogane. Together.” he said, smiling weakly at his pup.

He dressed quickly again, even though every movement hurt, and began to descend the stairs with Kurogane at his side.

He froze in the kitchen doorway at the sight of his mother. “Here, Sakura-chan,” the woman said sweetly, smiling. “I made you lunch.”

“Yes…” Sakura murmured. “Thank you, Mom.” His hands gripped the bento tightly. “I should get going soon.”

Sakura left as quickly as he could.

He told himself he didn’t want to be late for the mission. But the faint trembling in his body said otherwise.

.

.

.

They had been traveling in silence for the last ten minutes. Sakura felt his whole body ache, but he said and did nothing—far too used to that kind of pain whenever something was wrong.

Kurogane was pressed against his side, growling every time someone got too close, and Sakura couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. His hand reached out to gently stroke the dog’s head.

“Tazuna-san,” he began, determined to keep his mind distracted from the pain.

“What is it?” the man asked brusquely.

“Your country is the Land of Waves, right?”

“Yes, and what of it?”

“Kakashi-sensei, are there ninjas in that land too?” Sakura asked, glancing at his teacher.

“No, there aren’t any ninjas in the Land of Waves…” Kakashi began to explain, and Sakura blinked in surprise, realizing there were still things he didn’t know. He probably should have read more, though it didn’t matter much anymore considering Kakashi-sensei always seemed willing to answer his questions.

“Wow! So the Hokage really is incredible!” Sakura reflected aloud.

“Though he doesn’t look it,” Inner mocked. “Isn’t he just a wrinkled, senile old man or something?”

“I thought the same,” Sakura admitted to Inner. “But apparently not. Isn’t that amazing? By the way, where have you been? I haven’t felt you since yesterday.”

“I was around,” Inner replied. “Do your injuries hurt a lot?”

“Yes,” Sakura answered. “But it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“Mhm…” Sakura noticed Inner wasn’t happy. Which made sense—Inner hated his mom for reasons Sakura couldn’t understand. After all, his mother wasn’t that bad. She just got angry sometimes when he messed things up, but that wasn’t her fault—it was his.

“Anyway, who would’ve thought that senile old man was really that important.” Sakura chuckled to Inner.

“Right.” Inner laughed, and Sakura felt a little better then, because it meant she wasn’t angry after all.

“You two doubted the Hokage, didn’t you?” Kakashi asked knowingly. Sakura shook his head vigorously, realizing Naruto was in the exact same position. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who had doubted their Hokage.

“Be careful with that one, Sakura,” Inner warned. “He seems like he can read minds.”

“Shit.” Sakura paled. He’d have to be careful about what he thought in front of Kakashi-sensei then.

“Well, don’t worry. There won’t be any battles in these escort missions,” Kakashi said, his hand ruffling Sakura’s soft pink hair, making him smile and lean into the touch by reflex.

“That’s great!” he exclaimed, more thrilled by the pat than the reassurance. “That means we don’t have to worry about fighting foreign ninjas!”

“Of course not.” Kakashi reassured him, leaving a few more pats before pulling his hand away. Sakura almost whined at the loss—but stopped himself, thinking it would make him seem like a desperate fool begging for affection, and he wasn’t.

“Though it’s never a bad idea to be cautious, you know?” Inner told him. “You never know when danger might appear.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Sakura agreed, because Inner was never wrong. She was always right about everything.

His gaze drifted out of habit, landing on Kurogane sniffing at a puddle of water.

“You can’t drink that, Kurogane!” Sakura warned, moving toward his ninken.

The dog barked, nose still pressing insistently toward the water. Sakura blinked, dipping his fingers into the puddle and bringing them to his nose. It smelled of herbs and soil… and something strange. A scent that felt wrong, not like water at all.

“Yuck.” He grimaced. “Probably stagnant. Come on, Kurogane.” Sakura tugged the ninken away, who gave something like a canine huff before returning to his master’s side, resuming formation.

The group traveled in relative peace for a while after that, but Sakura couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, especially with the way Kurogane behaved. She seemed clingier than at the start of the journey and tense—so tense that it made him tense too. If Kurogane sensed something was wrong, then something was probably wrong.

Sasuke frowned slightly as he looked at Sakura, his gaze drifting to the ninken before returning to Sakura again. When Sakura noticed, he stuck his tongue out at the Uchiha, confused as to why Sasuke was paying him so much attention. Sasuke only shot him a look that clearly said he thought Sakura was an idiot.

Sakura turned toward Kakashi, parting his lips to say he felt uneasy. But before he could utter a word, the metallic rattle of chains filled the air.

A gasp tore from his throat as he saw his sensei ensnared by serrated chains, dragged off by two fierce-looking ninjas with massive claws strapped to their hands.

“The first to fall!” one of them jeered. They yanked the chains in opposite directions, shredding flesh.

Sakura watched in horror as Kakashi was ripped in two. The scream that ripped from his throat felt raw, searing. His legs trembled, fingers convulsing. Kurogane barked frantically at his side, the sound pounding in his ears like a war drum.

His heart slammed so hard it hurt, as if it wanted to burst free from his chest. Kakashi-sensei… torn apart… The image seared into his vision like a painting that could never be erased.

He wanted to run, to hide, to escape. Every instinct screamed at him to flee. But at the same time, basic training—the drills, the lessons hammered into him at the academy—surfaced as involuntary reflexes.

His feet stumbled back, colliding with the damp ground, weight shifting instinctively to his stronger side. One hand shot down to the kunai pouch. The cold metal against his fingers was like a jolt of lightning, forcing him to breathe.

The air, however, tasted of iron and rot—thick, venomous. He swallowed clumsily, throat scraping like broken glass.

“K-Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto shouted in shock.

“The second!” sneered one of the enemy ninjas, both appearing behind Naruto. He whirled around, horrified, frozen.

Sasuke reacted instantly, hurling a shuriken and kunai that pinned the enemy’s chain to a tree. He vaulted onto their oversized claws, using the leverage to kick them both square in the face.

Sakura watched, stunned, paralyzed for a heartbeat too long, enough for terror to freeze his blood. His breaths came in ragged, too-fast gasps. His hands shook violently, vision narrowing until the world shrank to those monstrous men and the phantom gore of Kakashi being torn apart.

But then, a memory struck like a spark: “In an escort mission, the client is always the priority. Protect them with your life.” The voice of his academy instructor, harsh and unyielding, rang in his mind.

Sakura’s body moved on muscle memory alone.

Without thinking, he leapt in front of Tazuna, arm outstretched as though he could shield the man with his own body. His kunai was already drawn, blade glinting despite his trembling grip. Kurogane planted herself at his side in perfect sync, fur bristling, fangs bared in a visceral snarl that reverberated like a war drum.

Sakura’s heart pounded so violently that every thud ached in his ribs, as if his chest would shatter. His legs felt like lead and water at once—heavy, but incapable of standing still, trembling with the need to act.

“S-stay behind me, Tazuna-san!” His voice cracked, shaking, as though it wasn’t his own. He didn’t even know if the man had heard him.

The world smelled of sweat, rust, and phantom blood. His throat tightened, panic coiling like a nest of snakes inside him. And still, he stepped forward, kunai raised despite the tremor in his hand.

One of the enemies turned toward him, grinning with teeth bared. Terror shot through Sakura’s stomach like fire, nearly buckling his knees. I’m going to die, he thought, a bone-deep chill crawling through him. But his arms didn’t drop. His stance didn’t falter.

Kurogane’s relentless barking anchored him, dragging him back to reality.

The two shinobi detached their clawed chains and circled Sasuke—one rushing Naruto, the other charging Sakura and the bridge builder.

“Stay behind me!” Sakura shouted again. “Kurogane, guard Tazuna-san’s back!” The ninken obeyed instantly, covering the old man’s rear.

Sasuke’s head snapped toward Sakura at the sound of his voice, eyes widening in alarm. He moved swiftly, planting himself in front of the pink-haired boy with arms spread, shielding both him and the client. The enemy was closing fast, and Sakura could only think of protecting the client, of striking somehow—though it was likely Sasuke would take the blow for both of them.

Suddenly, an arm snaked around the enemy’s neck, yanking him away from the two Genin and their charge. Relief washed over Sakura in an instant. His sensei was there. Alive.

“Yo…” the man greeted casually.

“Kakashi-sensei! You’re alive!” the pink-haired boy exclaimed with joy, barely restraining himself from throwing his arms around the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Naruto on the ground, but his gaze never left the silver-haired man standing before them.

Sasuke clicked his tongue. “Show-off.” He muttered, though Sakura noticed he seemed just as relieved as he was at that moment.

Naruto looked like he was trying to comprehend what he was seeing. “Wha—?!” He turned to see a small pile of logs where they had supposedly crushed their sensei. He had used a substitution jutsu.

“Naruto, sorry I didn’t help you right away. I hurt you. I didn’t think you’d be unable to move... Anyway, I have to say, you did a good job, Sasuke. You too, Sakura.” Kakashi told them. “Good girl, Kurogane. You deserve a reward.” The ninken wagged her tail, still standing guard.

“Hey,” Sasuke turned to Naruto with a mocking smile. “Are you hurt, scaredy-cat?”

“Sasuke!” Naruto roared, ready to punch the arrogant bastard.

“Naruto!” Kakashi shouted, startling Sakura in the process. “These guys have poison on their claws. You need to get it out quickly.” The man began to speak calmly.

Sakura looked at his teammate, alarmed.

“Hey,” Sakura turned toward Sasuke, who had called him softly. “Are you okay, Sakura?” The dark-haired boy looked as expressionless as always, but there was a flicker of caution and a faint hint of worry in his eyes that made the pink-haired boy feel a little uncomfortable.

“Eh?” Sakura blinked. “Ah, yeah.” He answered belatedly.

Why was Sasuke worried about him? And what was with all that about defending him, standing in front of him and the client anyway? Sakura didn’t understand, and it frustrated him a little because—how was he supposed to hate the Uchiha if he ended up being a good teammate after all? It wasn’t fair.

“What about you?” Sakura decided to ask.

“Mhm.” Sasuke replied.

Sakura tilted his head. What was that supposed to mean?

But he had no time to ask because his attention shifted to Kakashi, who was staring seriously at Tazuna. The old man looked nervous under the jōnin’s gaze, and Sakura thought he would have been nervous too if Kakashi-sensei ever looked at him that seriously.

Everyone’s eyes then turned to the chunin tied to a tree.

“These are Chunin from the Hidden Mist Village. They’re known for their perseverance at any cost.” Kakashi informed his genin.

“How could they detect our movements?” one of them hissed.

“It hasn’t rained for days, so there shouldn’t have been any puddles in weather like this.” Kakashi stated, recalling the puddle the group had passed seconds before the attack. “And our ninken also suspected it.”

Sakura looked at Kurogane in surprise. “Wow!” He leaned down to scratch behind the dog’s ears, looking at her fondly. “You’re such a smart girl, Kurogane! Aren’t you, pretty girl? Who’s the best girl in this team? Yes! It’s you, it’s you!”

Kurogane basked in her master’s affection, wagging her tail furiously as she stretched up to lick Sakura’s face, making him let out a cheerful giggle.

“Knowing that, why did you let the kids fight?” Tazuna asked.

“If I wanted to, I could have killed these guys instantly, but I needed to know who their target was. Was it you, or one of us shinobi? We don’t know anything about you as a target for ninjas.”

“We should go back…” Sakura murmured, glancing at Naruto. If his teammate’s hand was poisoned, then they needed to get to a hospital so he could be given medicine.

On the other hand, according to their sensei’s earlier words, this mission at the very least classified as a B-rank. And they were still inexperienced genin. Sakura wasn’t stupid—even he knew this was a mission they shouldn’t be handling as a team yet. They could die easily here, and while an honorable death was what the pink-haired boy expected for his end, he still believed dying here would be too soon and meaningless.

At the very least, Sakura wanted to become a jōnin like his sensei before dying. It would be much better to risk his life that way than to die as a mere genin. At least his death would have some important value.

“The request was only supposed to be protection from gangs, thieves, and the like… This is now a B-rank mission or higher.” Kakashi said. And for the first time, Sakura wasn’t happy to be right about something. “It was meant to provide you with extra protection until you finished building your bridge. If our enemies were ninja, the mission would have been ranked as an expensive B-rank mission. There must be some good reason for this, but lying in a mission request doesn’t work. This goes beyond our mission.”

“This mission is too soon for us.” Sakura reasoned. “We should go back. We need anesthesia to open Naruto’s wound and drain the poisoned blood. We need to take him to the hospital.” He looked at his teammate in worry. His gaze then shifted to Kakashi. “We’re not ready for a B-rank yet!”

Kakashi looked at Naruto and sighed. “This is tough. Since we have to treat Naruto’s wound, should we return to the village…?”

Suddenly, Naruto pulled out a kunai and stabbed it into his own hand. Sakura stared at him, stunned. What the hell was wrong with that idiot?!

Blood dripped from the blonde’s hand and fell to the ground. “Why am I so different? Why is it always me, damn it?”

“What are you doing, Naruto?!” Sakura took a few steps toward him, wanting to stop him. In truth, he didn’t really care if Naruto died. But they were on a mission and were teammates—if they lost one of them, they would have to suspend their shinobi activities until they found a new member, and Sakura refused to go through that.

“I should be making myself stronger…” Naruto growled, ignoring him. “I’ll never end up in a situation where I need to be rescued again. I’ll never be afraid or a coward again… I won’t lose to Sasuke… I swear it on the pain of my left hand! Old man, I’ll protect you with this kunai!”

The blonde turned to look at them all, a light of determination blazing in his blue eyes.

“The mission continues!” he declared, making the inspiring, though completely unilateral, decision for all of them.

“Wow, that’s so cool.” Inner sighed dreamily. Not the way Ino and the other girls at the academy did when they looked at Sasuke, but the way he and Kiba once had when watching some Inuzuka clan shinobi train with awesome techniques. Something that sounded a lot like admiration, in Sakura’s own opinion.

Sakura grimaced. “What’s so cool about this idiot hurting himself like that?”

“It’s not the fact that he hurt himself, Sakura.” Inner scolded him. “It’s the principles. His words. The reason why he did it.”

Sakura didn’t get it, but supposed Inner must have a point. “If you say so…”

“Naruto,” Kakashi said slowly. “It’s fine to get rid of the poison and all that, but if you lose any more blood, you’ll die.”

Naruto’s calm shattered, and he began running around in panic. “No! No! No! I can’t die like this!”

“What an idiot…” Sakura muttered, shaking his head. He pulled off his backpack to look for supplies from his emergency kit and handed the alcohol to Kakashi when the man took Naruto’s hand.

The man was serious as he examined the boy’s hand, taking the bottle of alcohol Sakura had given him.

“You’re weird, Naruto,” the pink-haired boy told him. “You don’t know your own limits. That’s called masochism, you know? I read about it in a book.” His eyes scanned the blonde’s expression. “Though in your case, this might just be plain stupidity.”

“You’re so mean, Sakura-chan…” Naruto whined as Kakashi bandaged his hand.

Sakura shrugged, turning to look at Kurogane, who was getting a dog biscuit from Sasuke. His brow arched when, immediately after eating the treat and after Sasuke whispered a few words to the ninken, Kurogane leapt to bite one of the chunin’s legs. Sasuke looked rather entertained watching the scene.

“Looks like Naruto’s not the only weirdo on the team…” Sakura muttered.

But he kept watching the scene anyway. He had to admit, to himself at least, that seeing one of the ninjas who had almost killed him screaming and whining was entertaining. It felt almost like justice, but somehow much better.

And maybe it was just his petty, resentful side talking, but somehow revenge felt good, Sakura thought—and a part of him understood why Sasuke seemed so obsessed with it.

Chapter Text

Sakura felt nervous on the boat. He had never been on one before, so he was afraid of falling, even at such a slow speed. The fog covered the area, making it impossible to see potential threats, forcing him to sharpen his senses. Kurogane was curled up at his side, looking uneasy as her nose twitched, trying to catch nearby scents.

His fingers stroked his ninken’s jet-black fur in a search for comfort he had adopted unconsciously at some point. The soft, silky texture against his fingers helped him stay grounded, making him feel less overwhelmed.

His gaze lingered on Sasuke for a few seconds, making a slight grimace. He had spent so much time hating Sasuke at the academy, only to start feeling guilty now for hating him—especially after that bastard had protected him earlier.

A mix of gratitude, irritation, and a touch of guilt filled him every time he looked at or remembered him, and it only made things worse. And now Sasuke looked so calm that…

Sakura clicked his tongue. Stupid Sasuke.

“Wow!” Naruto exclaimed with excitement, pulling him out of his thoughts. “It’s huge!”

“Yeah…” Sakura murmured, while Kurogane let out a bark.

“Quiet!” The old man rowing the boat scolded them. “We’re using the boat to hide in the fog. That’s why I’m using the oar instead of turning on the engine. You could get caught if we make too much noise.”

Naruto immediately covered his mouth with both hands, while Sakura tried to place both hands over Kurogane’s snout to keep her from barking. The ninken seemed to take it as a game because she immediately tried to bite his hand a couple of times before Sakura could firmly hold her muzzle.

“Shhhh,” Sakura told Kurogane. “Quiet, girl.”

Kurogane wagged her tail, hitting Sasuke with it, who frowned at Sakura as if it were his fault. Sakura looked away.

“Tazuna-san. I need to ask you something before we reach the dock,” Kakashi said quietly, not wanting to alert anyone nearby, drawing the attention of the three genin. “Who is after you and why? Otherwise, we would abandon the mission once we arrive at the port.”

“Frankly, I’d like you to listen,” the old man began. “As you said, this might be beyond the scope of your mission. A terrifying man has me in his sights.”

“Who is it?” asked Kakashi.

“You’ve probably already heard his name. A shipping magnate named Gatō.”

Kakashi looked surprised. “Gatō? From the Gato Company? One of the richest men in the world?”

Sakura blinked, also surprised.

“Huh? Who’s that?” Naruto seemed confused, and so did Sasuke.

“Gatō is the president of the maritime shipping company abroad,” Sakura explained to Naruto, drawing the attention of his teammates and the old man. “He’s a shipping magnate, so he’s swimming in money.”

There was a pause. Sakura wasn’t sure if he should say more since it was sort of an open secret, but he figured it couldn’t hurt, especially since it seemed likely old Tazuna already knew.

“His shipping company is just a front,” he continued. “He’s involved in drug smuggling and other illegal activities. Mother says he has contacts in nearly every commercial port of the Land of Water and the Land of Fire. Even some in the Land of Tea and the Land of Rice, and he even has a network of assassins and retired shinobi who take care of anyone who interferes with his trade routes.”

The silence that followed made Sakura shift uncomfortably. Naruto stared at him, mouth slightly open, while Sasuke narrowed his eyes, processing the information with evident interest.

Kakashi raised a single eyebrow, though his tone remained calm. “Seems like you know quite a bit about him, Sakura.”

Sakura lowered his gaze slightly. “My parents are merchants… somewhat important in their world,” he explained with some hesitation. His words carried a hint of doubt, as if he didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. “They travel a lot and deal with all kinds of people. I hear things sometimes when they return from trips.”

He looked at his sensei uncertainly. He didn’t like talking much about his parents or his family, even though he knew there was nothing wrong with it.

“There are often rumors about Gatō. You know, missing people, lost shipments, ships ‘accidentally’ sunk. Gatō is always involved somehow, though no one dares to say it out loud.” He made a face, stroking Kurogane’s fur. “Mother says Gatō started as a legitimate businessman, but when he got enough power and money, he began buying routes, bribing officials, and eliminating competition. Not only in maritime trade but also in transporting goods within the villages. If you don’t accept his terms, he ruins you.”

Sasuke watched him out of the corner of his eye, intrigued for the first time. “And you say all merchants know about this?”

Sakura shook his head. “Not all of them. Only those with enough money or connections to find out. Father says money can buy anything—even silence.”

Naruto frowned.

Sakura looked toward the water, seeing the fog’s reflection cover their faces. “And… uh, they also say that some of the daimyō prefer to look the other way because he pays them well.”

Sasuke crossed his arms. “So he controls trade. If someone like that wants Tazuna dead, it’s not just about money.”

Sakura nodded, remembering snippets of conversation he had overheard one night at home when his parents thought he was asleep. “Mother called him ‘a plague hiding behind gold.’ She said while the countries worry about wars, he feeds them from the shadows.”

Tazuna sighed heavily. “Building the bridge ruins his monopoly. If people can trade freely with other countries, Gatō loses control of this region.”

Naruto clenched his fists. “That guy’s a coward! Using his money to scare everyone!”

Kakashi observed him for a moment, then nodded seriously. “Well done, Sakura. That information will be useful to us.”

The praise took him by surprise. Heat rose to his cheeks, though he tried to keep a neutral expression.

Sasuke, however, watched him from the corner of his eye, somewhat thoughtful. It wasn’t a mocking look—at least not entirely—but more of an evaluation. As if he were recalculating exactly who Sakura was.

Tazuna looked at Sakura curiously. “What did you say your last name was, kid?”

“Haruno,” Sakura replied. “My parents focus on—”

“Hanayori Shōkai,” Tazuna interrupted. “I know what your family does.” There was a glint of distrust in his eyes. “I didn’t know they also produced shinobi.”

“They don’t,” Sakura answered quickly. “I’m the only shinobi in my family in Konoha as far as I know. The rest are all merchants.”

Tazuna nodded. “No beginning, no end, right?” he said. “You belong to the paths, no matter which ones.”

Sakura blinked. “Huh?”

“The motto of your family, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, yes.” Sakura looked uncomfortable, remembering the family motto. “Something like that.”

'Everything that starts returns in some way. No beginning, no end.'

That was the Haruno motto. It also felt like a curse for Sakura.

“Stay on the right side of the paths, then, kid,” Tazuna said sharply.

Sakura looked confused, unsure what the man meant. Perhaps there were things about his family he didn’t know?

Tazuna resumed his story, choosing to leave Sakura’s family aside. “About a year ago, Gatō arrived in the Land of Waves. He used his wealth and violence to enter this country and, without us realizing it, had taken full control of the island’s maritime transport.” He said. “In an island nation like ours, having strict control over the sea means having everything under control. The only thing Gatō fears is the completion of the bridge that has been under construction for some time.”

“I see,” said Sakura, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, “Since you’re the bridge’s architect, you’ve become a threat.”

“So, those ninjas from before were men of Gato…?” Sasuke asked, turning to Sakura as if he had the answer. The redhead nodded, having come to the same conclusion.

“But I don’t understand,” Kakashi said. “Your enemy is dangerous and powerful. Why did you hide this from us when you requested help?”

Tazuna sighed, defeated. “The Land of Waves is a very poor nation. Even the feudal lords have little money. Of course, we, the ordinary citizens, also have none. We cannot afford rank-B requests or higher.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Having to settle for far less than what he needed… he couldn’t say he understood, because despite his circumstances, he still had everything someone could need, and even more. But he could imagine how difficult it must be.

His heart ached for the people of this place. Maybe he could convince his parents to make a donation to the Land of Waves? He knew it would be difficult; they’d probably want to know why, and compassion or charity alone wasn’t enough, so he would have to devise something. Investigate what was good about the Land of Waves so his parents would agree to move a business there.

“That!” Inner cheered in his mind. “We have to help here, Sakura! I’ll build that damn bridge myself if I have to! I’ll write the speech to convince our parents myself! Shannaro!”

Sakura sighed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he told Inner mentally. “You know we have to take care of this mission first.”

“This mission will be a piece of cake,” Inner brushed it off. “We’re a strong team after all.”

Sakura watched Tazuna with pure determination in his eyes.

“If you abandon the mission, they would probably kill me at the first opportunity. Surely it would be as soon as I return home,” Tazuna continued. “But I won’t blame any of you if you decide to leave. After all, only my eight-year-old grandson would miss me and cry inconsolably.”

“Huh?” Sakura and Naruto murmured in unison, surprised at the old man’s words.

“And my daughter will harbor hatred toward the Konoha ninjas and live a lonely life. But that’s not your fault.” Tazuna concluded.

“This is so sad…” Sakura imagined Inner wiping tears in his mind.

“Yes, the old man is trying to manipulate—”

“His family will be left alone,” Inner sobbed, interrupting, blowing her nose with a handkerchief.

Sakura didn’t understand how Inner could fall for such a thing so easily. Tazuna was clearly trying to appeal to their emotions to make them stay, and that was obvious to everyone there.

“Well… I guess we have no choice. Let’s keep being his bodyguards,” Kakashi told the old man, trying to counter his words.

“Oh! I would be so grateful!” Tazuna replied, disguising a smug smile, knowing he had won.

They got off the boat and onto a dock shortly afterward. Many of the structures around them were built directly over the water; even some trees grew in the ocean.

“All right! Get me home safe and sound!” Tazuna declared. The group headed along the dock toward land on the island.

Kakashi sighed wearily. He knew the next attack wouldn’t be a Chunin, but an elite Jonin, and he didn’t want to deal with it while also playing babysitter—but his genin seemed excited about this, and he didn’t seem able to deny anything to these three.

Naruto, on the other hand, was thrilled. He ran a bit ahead to explore and threw his kunai into a bush when he heard a noise. Nothing happened.

“Must have been a mouse,” he declared, preparing another kunai.

“Naruto! Don’t play so recklessly with your shuriken!” Sakura yelled, irritated.

"Don't scare or confuse us like that, little brat!" Tazuna immediately followed up.

Naruto ignored them and kept scanning the area. He heard a crack to his left and, without thinking twice, threw another kunai.

Sakura stepped forward firmly. "What did I just say?!" he shouted, punching him on the head. Kurogane barked a couple of times at Naruto, barely held back by Kakashi to prevent her from lunging at the blond boy.

"But I swear I heard something this time, Sakura-chan!" Naruto protested, rubbing the spot he had been hit.

Sakura was about to respond, but stopped when their sensei passed by, heading toward where Naruto had thrown the kunai. She and Naruto followed him, Sasuke and Tazuna a little behind.

The kunai had lodged into a tree, right above a white rabbit that looked terrified. Kurogane growled, barking several times in the rabbit's direction.

"Wait, Kurogane!" Sakura shouted, leaping onto Kurogane to try to grab her, unsuccessfully. He landed face-first on the ground but quickly got up to hug his ninken, trying to pull her away from the rabbit.

"Oh no!" Naruto knelt, hugging the frightened animal tightly, trying to calm it. "I'm so sorry! It was an accident! Please react, little bunny!"

"Enough, Kurogane!" Sakura yelled, struggling to control his ninken, who barked and growled desperately, as if the rabbit were a huge enemy. He couldn’t understand her behavior—why was his dog acting like this all of a sudden? Kurogane had never done this before! Normally she only watched rabbits or other animals when nearby but didn’t chase them unless ordered. "Please, Kurogane! Stay still!"

But the ninken didn’t obey, barking and growling wildly, fangs bared, while Naruto stayed a safe distance away still holding the rabbit. Sasuke had to help Sakura hold Kurogane, who seemed ready to leap at Naruto at any moment.

"Careful!" Kakashi pushed Tazuna and Naruto to the ground as Kurogane turned to lunge at her owner, knocking Sakura and Sasuke down at the same time while they were off guard.

Sakura felt the wind as a giant sword passed just past his head. A dull thud sounded as it hit a tree. After a few seconds, he deemed it safe to get up. Kurogane stood in front of him, growling and showing her fangs with fierce intensity. He then looked toward where his ninken was growling.

A man balanced on the hilt of a sword that looked like a massive butcher’s cleaver. He was topless, showing his robust, muscular frame. Bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face, covering it in a way similar to their own sensei.

Sakura shivered. So that was why Kurogane had acted that way before. She had sensed the man's presence from the very beginning. He thought of giving her plenty of treats and affection after this, because it was the second time his ninken seemed to sense things before he did.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Momochi Zabuza. The missing ninja from the Land of Waves," Kakashi said, dragging out the words, sounding much calmer than he should. He held out a hand to stop Naruto, who had started moving forward. "Do not interfere. Give me space," he told his students. "This one is on a completely different level from our previous opponents."

"What?!" Naruto protested. "Why?!"

"Kakashi, the Sharingan guy, right? If it’s not too much trouble, could you hand over the old man?" Zabuza spoke with a deep, gravelly voice.

"Sharingan...?" Sakura noticed Sasuke stiffen slightly as he looked at Kakashi. It seemed odd to him, especially because the boy appeared to be thinking something over.

"You three. Take the Manji battle formation," Kakashi ordered the genin. "Protect Tazuna-san. Stay out of this fight, no matter what! That’s the teamwork this battle requires."

Naruto looked stunned seeing their sensei like this, and Sakura wished he could see the man’s face as well. But they had a mission, and he wasn’t going to disobey.

"Kurogane," he called to his ninken. "Cover Tazuna’s back." The dog leapt, moving between the old man’s legs and remaining there, vigilantly watching his back.

Sakura stood in front of the old man, looking at Zabuza with a mix of worry and anxiety. How strong was this man that their sensei told them not to interfere? Could they even fight properly? What if they failed? Sakura couldn’t die yet. At the very least, he needed to become a chunin or jonin before dying—that was the only way he would bring honor to his clan, despite being the disgrace he was born to be.

He swallowed hard. His throat felt dry and rough, like he had swallowed sand. The humid air around him was thick, heavy, almost sticky against his skin, and each breath seemed twice as hard to take. Oxygen entered his lungs like thick smoke. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, syncing with the painful throbbing in his temples.

His fingers trembled slightly, hidden in clenched fists, and he realized with frustration how hard it was to keep them still. Petting Kurogane had calmed him a moment ago… but now his ninken was guarding the old man’s back, and that was far more important than his own nervous state.

Zabuza’s eyes were like dark stains in the mist, still, relentless, predatory. They were a brutal reminder that the real ninja world was nothing like the academy or exams. It was blood, death, and steel. And Sakura was terrified.

I can’t die here. Not yet… he thought, heart aching. Every inhale twisted the knot in his throat tighter, making him want to scream. He forced himself to swallow it down because Harunos didn’t scream. Harunos endured. Sakura had to endure. It was his duty. It was expected of him. But his stomach churned, bile rising, threatening to betray him.

It wasn’t fear of Zabuza himself—or at least not only him—it was fear of inadequacy. Fear of failing before redeeming himself. Fear that if he died here, no one would know he was a boy, that he had carried the curse of his birth. His death would become another shameful secret for his clan. That the bad things that happened were his fault, just for being born the way he was.

He forced himself to look at his companions: Naruto, wide-eyed, jaw tight; Sasuke, rigid, calculating; Kakashi, like a wall between them.

He forced himself to inhale and exhale.

One, two, three times.

His heart was still racing. Inner’s voice rose in his head like a frantic whisper. "Come on, Sakura, focus! If you fall here, if you let the other two be the only ones fighting and facing him, you’ll be an eternal embarrassment! Shannaro!"

"I know…" he answered silently, but his own thought sounded hollow. "I know, but… my hands won’t stop shaking…"

Inner continued urging him, giving him courage. But Sakura didn’t feel capable.

His gaze dropped for a moment to his kunai. The cold metal in his fingers was a small but real anchor. He clenched it tightly until his knuckles turned white.

He could smell the iron tang of Zabuza’s sword and his own sweat carried by the wind. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure if the ground beneath him was solid.

But he couldn’t move. He wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

Zabuza stepped forward, and Sakura felt his heart leap, like a fish out of water. Fear mingled with a spark of adrenaline, an electric shiver running through his body.

'Don’t die yet. No. Not yet. Not until you prove you can. Not until you clear your name.' He told himself, forcing his mind to steel.

He gritted his teeth, digging his nails into his palms, forcing himself to maintain his stance in front of Tazuna. Any step backward would be admitting he was born to flee. And Sakura had never fled from anything. Ever.

Zabuza let out a thunderous laugh. "To face the legendary Sharingan eye so soon, at first meeting, is an honor."

Naruto could no longer bear the uncertainty. "You keep saying Sharingan eye—what the hell is that?"

To the surprise of Naruto and Sakura, it was Sasuke who answered: "The Sharingan is created by the eye. It is the power of the pupil," he said, looking at the ground. "Shinobi with the Sharingan eye can master a form of ocular ninjutsu that allows them to see through any illusion created by genjutsu, as well as counter any ninjutsu. It’s one of the different dojutsu styles, but that’s not the only ability the Sharingan possesses."

"Exactly," Zabuza said with another deep laugh. "The most formidable aspect is the precision with which the Sharingan can discern and copy an opponent’s techniques." The man looked at Kakashi again. "When I was an assassin for Kirigakure, I had the classic bingo book: a who’s who of our enemies. You had a fairly extensive description. The man who copied over a thousand different techniques… the copying ninja, Hatake Kakashi."

Sakura was internally speechless, and outwardly, his eyes widened despite his anxiety. "Over a thousand techniques?!" Was their sensei really that strong? Relief washed over him suddenly. If Kakashi-sensei could pull off things like that, then they were safe here. Still, it didn’t entirely erase his worry.

“Enough.” Zabuza said. “Though this conversation is pleasant, I have a very tight schedule to finish off the old man.”

Immediately, Naruto and Sasuke moved around Tazuna, flanking Sakura.

“But Kakashi, it seems I’ll have to kill you first.” Zabuza spoke.

And Sakura barely managed to see him move. There was no doubt that Zabuza was a powerful man, judging by how fast he was. One moment he was standing on his sword, embedded in a tree, and the next he was balanced on the water, sword on his back.

“Is he… walking on water?” Sakura gasped, astonished. That wasn’t something they’d been taught at the academy!

“Hidden Mist Jutsu!” Just as suddenly as he had appeared on the water, he vanished, replaced by a rolling mist that began to lazily blanket the area.

“Momochi Zabuza, of the Kirigakure Assassin Corps, is renowned for his silent killing techniques. Let your guard down near him and you’re guaranteed a one-way trip to the afterlife. Stay alert!” Kakashi warned.

The mist crept closer, invading their space.

“What’s with all that fog?” Naruto whispered.

“Otherwise, you’d all be dead before you even noticed.” Kakashi finished. He sounded so calm that Sakura didn’t know how to react, so he just clutched his kunai tighter.

“The fog is getting thicker.” Naruto said, anxious.

“The Land of Waves is surrounded by the sea,” Tazuna explained. “So it’s very common for it to get foggy.”

The mist thickened, and Kakashi disappeared into it. “Sensei…” Sakura murmured, worried.

“Don’t get distracted.” Sasuke warned him.

Shit.

Sakura nodded. Sasuke was right. He couldn’t lose focus.

“There are eight targets.” Zabuza’s voice seemed to wrap around them, startling them. They couldn’t locate him. “Throat, spine, lungs, liver, jugular vein, subclavian artery, kidney, heart. So many options… which weak point should I choose?”

Any of those strikes would be a guaranteed death. Sakura knew this from academy lessons and the Kunoichi classes they had studied more in-depth.

He swallowed hard, but his throat burned. The silence that followed was as thick as the mist, so oppressive that he swore he could hear his own breathing echo in his head.

He couldn’t see a thing. Not even the outline of his outstretched hand. Only shapeless shadows that dissolved with every blink.

His heart pounded against his ribs.

Every sound—a drop falling, a step, the brush of wind—made him flinch. His body reacted before his mind could, turning his head, tensing muscles, gripping the kunai so hard it hurt.

I can’t see… I can’t see… Where is he? Where is he? The thought bounced frantically around his head.

Kurogane growled, and Sakura felt a brief wave of relief: his ninken was still there, still watching. But the relief was fleeting, replaced by the weight of fear. If Kurogane barked… it meant someone was moving nearby.

Too close.

Focus, focus, don’t breathe so loudly, don’t let him hear you… He reminded himself.

His breathing accelerated anyway.

Each inhale hurt, as if he were drawing in water instead of air.

The scent of salt and iron filled the air, and the moisture seeped into his clothes, making them heavier, more uncomfortable. Cold sweat trickled down his back, mingling with the mist condensing on his skin. His senses were sharper than ever, and he silently thanked the lessons Kiba’s mother had given him to hone them.

“Don’t move, Sakura.” Sasuke whispered to his right. “Naruto, stay alert.”

Sakura nodded without speaking. He didn’t trust his own voice.

His lips trembled, and his jaw was so tight it hurt.

The silence stretched again.

Too quiet.

Too perfect.

It was never good when something was too silent.

Suddenly, Kakashi made a move. Sakura wasn’t sure what exactly, but he felt Sasuke tremble beside him, clutching his own kunai.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi’s voice was so calm it was jarring. “Stay calm. Even if he catches me, I’ll protect all three of you.” He looked at them, his eyes curved in a sign of a smile. “I will never let my team die!” He declared.

Sakura gasped, surprised.

“Then, prove it.” Somehow, Zabuza had appeared right in the center of their formation.

“Damn, down!” Sakura shouted, grateful for Kurogane’s quick reaction, as the dog tugged at Tazuna’s clothing with his teeth, pulling the elderly man to the ground safely and planting himself over him, growling at Zabuza. Meanwhile, he and the other two genin dropped to the ground swiftly.

Zabuza’s movement was halted by Kakashi, who had read his motions with his Sharingan eye and stabbed him in the chest with a kunai. The sound of falling water alerted the three genin.

“Sensei! Behind you!” Naruto shouted, and Zabuza suddenly appeared behind the man, while the one in front dissolved into water.

Zabuza’s sword cut through their sensei like wet clay, and Sakura felt bile rise in his throat. But Kakashi simply dissolved into water, just like the assassin had done before. A kunai pressed against Zabuza’s neck.

“Don’t move.” Kakashi spat coldly at the ninja.

Somehow, Sakura had a bad feeling about all this. He didn’t think things could get any worse than they already seemed, but he had the sense that they would.

The pink-haired boy wished he was wrong.

Chapter Text

The fight against Zabuza had been terrifying, but somehow they had managed to come out of it alive—and the enemy shinobi was now dead, much to Sakura’s relief.
Of course, he still had the nagging feeling that something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what, and he didn’t want to risk guessing, because then that restless, choking feeling in his chest would only grow stronger and stronger.

His gaze turned toward his sensei, who looked at each of them in turn. “Well done, kids,” he said. “Now, your sensei’s going to rest for a bit…”

“Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto and Sakura shouted in unison as they saw the man collapse onto the ground.

“What happened?! Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto cried, panic and surprise breaking his voice.

Sakura crouched beside him while Kurogane sniffed at the man. He placed a finger under Kakashi’s nose, sighing in relief when he felt the faint breath, then rolled him gently onto his side, inspecting him carefully to make sure there were no hidden injuries.

His hands moved expertly over the man’s skin, pressing along the areas that had taken the hardest hits during the fight.

Kurogane stood watch nearby, muzzle hovering a few inches from Kakashi’s arm, ears twitching nervously as he tracked each of the man’s breaths. Without looking up, Sakura ran a hand along the jōnin’s side, pressing his fingertips until he felt the tension in the muscles, the solid ribs beneath the fabric. No fractures. No depressions. Only a slightly weak pulse and the cold sweat beading on his forehead.

“He’s unconscious from exhaustion,” Sakura murmured under his breath, mostly to himself. His voice came out low, focused.

“Huh?” Naruto knelt on the other side, frowning. “How do you know that, Sakura-chan?”

Sakura didn’t answer right away. He pulled a small jar of ointment and a strip of cloth from his pack, cleaning a wound along Kakashi’s ribs with precise, methodical movements. The calm in his gestures contrasted with the faint tremor in his fingers—not from fear, but from the surge of adrenaline that hadn’t quite left his body.

“I’ve read about it in medical books,” he said finally. “And I’ve treated injuries before... I know how it feels when you’re so tired you can’t even stand. That’s probably what’s happening to sensei right now.”

He remembered that feeling all too well—the body giving out, air slicing short, the mind shutting down because you hadn’t allowed yourself to stop. Sakura pressed his lips together and continued checking Kakashi’s reflexes, tilting the man’s head slightly to clear his airway.

“The hardest hit was to his side, but his breathing’s steady. He just needs rest.”

Naruto watched quietly, unusually silent, while Sasuke stayed a few steps back, arms crossed.

“You know a lot about this,” Sasuke finally remarked, tone neutral—more observation than praise.

Sakura lowered his gaze as he put the jar away. “Eh, I just like reading.” He shrugged. “And Kiba and I get hurt all the time when we train.” He chuckled. Though that wasn’t entirely the truth.

Sure, he got hurt during training with Kiba, but those wounds were easy to heal—or someone from the clan would do it for them. But the rest of his wounds? Well… Sakura would never tell anyone how he’d really learned to heal.

He’d never say that he learned because, before meeting Kiba, no one else ever did it for him. That when he came home with scraped knees or bleeding knuckles, all he got was a scolding for drawing attention—or for not behaving like a “proper young lady.” That he’d taught himself to bandage in silence, with old towels and alcohol, because crying only made it worse… and made the punishments last longer.

“Hn.” Sasuke didn’t say anything else, but the way he looked at him was enough to make Sakura’s skin crawl.

Clearing his throat, Sakura turned back to his sensei, finishing bandaging his hand. “I guess it’s… chakra exhaustion, maybe? I read about that too. It happens to some ninjas.” He added quickly, uncomfortable with the attention from his teammates. “I’ve bandaged his hand and put ointment on the rest of the wounds.”

Kurogane lay down beside him with a sigh, then moved to sit guard next to Tazuna, unmoving.

Sakura ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back, trying to steady himself now that they seemed out of danger. “We need to get him somewhere safe soon so he can rest,” he said after a moment. “If he stays here, he might get worse—I think. Not sure.”

“Then we’ll have to carry him,” Sasuke observed, stepping closer. He crouched and looped one of Kakashi’s arms over his shoulders, gesturing for Sakura to do the same.

Sakura obeyed, ignoring the burn of his own hidden wounds as he took the other arm and lifted. “Ugh,” he groaned. “He’s heavier than he looks.”

Naruto straightened up, energized. “Leave it to me! I’ll carry him!”

Sakura shook his head. “Sasuke and I are about the same height—it’ll be easier for us to carry him together,” he reasoned, frowning thoughtfully. “Hey, do you still have enough chakra to make clones?” Naruto had been beaten up earlier, so it wouldn’t surprise him if he was nearly as drained as Kakashi.

“Yeah, dattebayo!” Naruto exclaimed, still buzzing with energy despite what they’d just been through. “I can make like ten if you want!”

“Good.” Sakura felt a flicker of relief. “Make two or three, just in case, and have them guard Tazuna-san. We don’t know if another enemy might show up—it’s better to be prepared.” Naruto obeyed quickly, and Sakura turned to the bridge builder. “Please lead the way, Tazuna-san.”

By the time they reached Tazuna’s house, Sakura’s whole body ached unbearably, and he was almost certain one of his wounds had reopened judging by the way his back throbbed. He hurried to lay Kakashi down in the empty room they’d been offered.

“May I borrow your shower?” he asked Tsunami, Tazuna’s daughter.

“Of course,” the woman replied kindly, guiding him toward the bathroom.

Sakura followed in silence, backpack slung over one shoulder. Discomfort crawled over his skin as they walked through the wooden hallways of the small home. His eyes wandered curiously, taking in the space in a futile attempt to distract himself from the pain coursing through his body.

“Your house is very pretty,” he said softly, hating the way silence pressed against his ears.

“Thank you.” Tsunami gave him a warm smile. “I prepared the bath when you arrived—I figured you’d all want to wash up. You look rather filthy.”

“That tends to happen when you fight during missions,” Sakura murmured. “Getting dirty, I mean.”

They stopped at the bathroom door, and Sakura offered her a small, awkward smile—one he hoped looked less awkward than it felt.

When the door closed behind Tsunami, the silence became almost painful.

Sakura leaned back against the wooden door for a second, drawing a deep breath and ignoring the sharp pain that flared across his back. The faint steam in the air wrapped around his face—warm, almost gentle. For a moment, he wanted to sink to the floor right there. But Kurogane wasn’t with him, and Kakashi was still unconscious, the ninken curled up protectively at his side. Sakura couldn’t afford to sit here and wallow. Besides, Naruto and Sasuke would want to bathe soon too.

He sighed, wishing more than anything to be back home instead of here.

The mirror, fogged by the steam, reflected a silhouette he barely recognized. The red dress was torn at the side, stained with mud and dried blood that had splattered at some point. The bandages beneath the fabric showed faintly through its shape, darkened in spots by the deep color of blood he desperately hoped no one had noticed.

Sakura unzipped the side seam with trembling hands. The qipao fell to his ankles, light as air, and the cool breeze brushed his skin like a cruel caress.

The first thing that hit him was the smell—iron, old ointment, dampness. The second, the sight of soaked bandages, a red line seeping along his side where the impact from protecting Tazuna had reopened an older wound—one caused long ago by the buckle of his mother’s belt.

He hadn’t had time to change the dressings since before the mission, and now the rough fabric clung to his skin, pulling a low hiss from his lips as he tried to peel it away.

“Idiot,” he whispered to himself. “You shouldn’t have moved so much.”

But he knew he would have done it anyway. He could never stand still when someone needed help. He couldn’t risk looking weak. He couldn’t risk being worse than he already was—failing his first mission just because he’d been a coward or a fragile crybaby.

He kept peeling the bandages away, layer by layer, until the skin was bare. The mirror gave him back the map of his body: purple bruises along his shoulders, faint white lines from old cuts, and older scars—those that didn’t come from the battlefield.

He traced one with his fingers, on his left side, where his mother’s belt had struck him years ago. The skin was rougher there, hardened.

Warm water began to run from the faucet. Sakura wet a towel and began to clean himself in slow, careful strokes, though each touch burned sharply, piercingly. The pain crawled up his back and down to his waist—a thin, electric thread that made him grit his teeth to stifle any sound.

Every time the cloth brushed against a wound, the memory rose again: “You’re a disgrace. Don’t cry. Good girls don’t cry.”

He wasn’t a girl, nor good, nor enough. And yet he kept trying to be—all the same—even when it felt like parts of him were dying inside.

He swallowed hard, drawing in a deep breath until the trembling in his hands stilled. When he finished cleaning the blood, he examined the wound and grimaced. How had the fall hit so deep that it needed stitches? He wasn’t sure.

Damn it, he didn’t even remember hitting the ground that hard.

He grimaced as he stitched himself up the same way he’d mend a torn piece of cloth, making sure to knot the thin thread tightly after the third stitch.

Sakura only hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much once he got into the bath.

The warm water overflowed gently from the edge of the tub, swirling with a soft murmur. Steam rose to the ceiling, fogging the dim light filtering through the small window. Sakura sat at the edge, dipped his feet in first, and for a second, he thought the warmth might soothe him.

It didn’t.

The moment the water reached his ankles, a jolt ran through him. It was physical pain—the sting of open wounds, the burn of the makeshift sutures—but also something else. Something without a name.

The air burned in his lungs.

The shock of heat on broken skin was like a gunshot. Everything he’d kept locked away during the fight—the fear, the anger, the helplessness—burst all at once, rising in his throat in a shudder he couldn’t contain.

He slipped slowly into the water, clumsy, until he was seated at the bottom. The water wrapped around him like a heavy, warm hand, and that alone was enough to make his body tremble—not from cold, but from something deeper. Something he’d been holding back since the moment Zabuza appeared before them.

The sound of the water slapping against the tub’s walls grew deafening. His heart pounded against his ribs, uneven, wild, as though it couldn’t keep up with the air that refused to reach him.

He couldn’t breathe.

He tried to breathe, but his lungs refused to obey. Each inhale felt incomplete, trapped. Steam wrapped around him, suffocating, as droplets slid down his skin in a mix of sweat and water he could no longer tell apart.

He pressed his arms to his chest, curling in on himself.

The tremor became a spasm. His nails scratched at his own skin. The water rippled beneath his ragged breathing.

“Sakura…” Inner whispered. “Sakura, calm down. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

The echo slipped between the beats of his heart, between the walls of the bathroom, between the sounds of water that now felt far too loud.

He wanted to cover his ears, but his hands only met the trembling surface of the bath.

“Don’t cry,” he told himself.

But he did.

Soundless, just a strangled sob that dissolved into the steam, into the pressure, into the fear.

Everything he hadn’t felt when Zabuza had raised that sword—because he couldn’t feel it—came crashing back with brutal intensity.

The fear of dying.

The fear of failing.

The fear of being seen as useless.

The fear of being discovered.

Sakura closed his eyes and let the tears mix with the warm water.

His chest ached. His throat burned. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, curled up with his forehead resting on his knees, breathing in uneven gasps as the air caught between voiceless sobs.

The water was no longer warm when, little by little, he began to calm down.

First, his hands stilled. Then his shoulders dropped—heavy, exhausted. His pulse steadied, though the pain in his chest lingered like a heartbeat that wasn’t his own.

Sakura stayed still, listening to the steady sound of water.

The silence wrapped around him differently now—not oppressive, but like an empty cloak he could finally wear without drowning.

He breathed. Once. Twice. Three times.

The air entered, and for the first time in days, it didn’t hurt as much.

He ran his fingers across the surface of the water, watching the ripples spread, break, and fade.

That was how everything was, he thought. Fear, too. You just had to let it pass.

When he finally dared to move, his body felt heavy, his muscles sore—but something inside his chest felt different. Not lighter, exactly, but more real.

As if, somehow, in the middle of it all, something within him was still holding on.

And then came the frustration. The anger at being this weak. The anger at being so… pathetic. So fragile that he needed to cry, to have these kinds of moments alone just to function, to not break completely under what was expected of him.

He sank back into the water, his head slipping beneath the surface as he leaned against the rounded wooden tub. His back touched the wood. His eyes remained open, staring up at the bathroom ceiling through the water, lungs full of air he held by sheer force of will.

He stayed there for a few seconds.

One, two, three…

The frustration didn’t fade—it bubbled, grew, demanded release.

Four, five, six…

Sakura knew that if he screamed underwater, no one would hear him. Maybe Kurogane would, but he didn’t care. He trusted her.

Seven, eight, nine…

Sakura opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed and screamed until his lungs burned, until the air ran out, until the water itself seemed to choke him—only then did he surface, gasping, tears spilling down his face.

The water slapped against the sides of the tub with each uneven breath. The air, still warm, filled his lungs with a sharp, stinging burn—but also with a kind of painful clarity. His throat burned; every breath felt like swallowing liquid fire. Still, he kept breathing, again and again, as if that simple act were the only way to survive.

The bathroom smelled of steam, of soap, of iron. Of life, he thought—but also of everything he had tried to leave behind.

The scream still echoed inside his head, a vibration that blurred with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He brought his trembling hands to his face, sliding them up until they covered his eyes. The skin of his palms was rough, marked by tiny scars that never seemed to heal.

His own touch felt strange—like it didn’t belong to the body that now seemed like a silent battlefield, full of old and new wounds coexisting in familiar chaos.

The mirror’s foggy reflection barely returned a blurred, pinkish silhouette.

It could have been anyone.

It could have been no one.

The water moved lazily around his body, brushing against the makeshift stitches that were starting to redden.

The pain was real.

It anchored him.

He had learned to use it that way—as a reminder that he still existed. That even if his chest hurt, his lungs burned, and his heart felt heavy, he was still here.

The exhaustion hit like a wave. He let himself sink a little deeper, until his chin was covered, until the outside world—the muffled voices, the creaking of the house, the quiet breathing of Kurogane behind the door (who had apparently decided to wait for him outside instead of staying with sensei)—all faded into the distance.

For a moment, he could almost imagine floating. Imagine that his body wasn’t his own. That he didn’t have to keep pretending.

“Inner…” he whispered, barely a sound.

‘I’m here,’ the voice inside his mind replied, soft and warm enough to hurt.

“Why does it hurt so much?”

“Because you still matter,” Inner said.

The words ached in his chest in a strangely comforting way.

Tears blended once more with the bathwater, invisible. Sakura covered his eyes with his forearm and let the silence take him. His heart still hurt, but there was a steady pulse—stubborn, alive—that refused to fade. And that small, defiant heartbeat—that was all he had.

When he finally climbed out of the tub after a quick rinse, his skin stung, but his breathing had steadied. The air was still thick and humid, but it no longer felt like a prison.

He dried off slowly, carefully, noticing the residual tremor in his fingers.

Every movement was a negotiation between body and pain—between exhaustion and the need to keep going. On the other side of the door, Kurogane whined softly, pawing once at the wood as if to ask if everything was okay.

Sakura closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the door. “Almost,” he murmured. “Almost okay.”

But he knew he wasn’t. He knew he probably never would be, not completely.

Even so, he bandaged his wounds again after applying ointment and got dressed. Black compression shorts, a red skirt that reached just above his knees with side slits. The hitai-ate tied at his waist—he grimaced, realizing it fit perfectly thanks to the stupid diets he’d been forced to follow—and a red cropped top, loose around the ribs, embroidered with the Haruno crest by his mother. He’d bought it like an idiot during an argument with Ino, wanting to annoy her after she started talking about that stupid Sasuke again.

He looked at himself in the mirror, hating how feminine he looked.

He took a deep breath.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Until calm felt like a comfortable disguise again.

Until he forced himself to like the clothes he wore.

Until he could open the door and smile, even if only with half his face.

And then he stepped out, hair damp, body aching, but gaze steady.

“Hey, girl,” he greeted Kurogane, reaching down to scratch her head.

“You took your time.”

Sakura tensed when he saw Sasuke standing in front of him, arms crossed, frown in place.

“Beauty takes time,” he said automatically, forcing a smile. “Though I guess you wouldn’t know, since you’re…” he gestured vaguely at him, “… like that.”

Sasuke’s frown deepened. “Why are you wearing so many bandages?”

Well, shit.

“Why are you staring so much?”

Silence.

And then that silence stretched—thick, heavy—filling the narrow hallway of the house. Only the faint creak of wood and the muffled sound of wind slipping through the cracks could be heard.

Sakura didn’t know if it was the dim light or the lingering haze of exhaustion, but Sasuke’s face looked different. Less arrogant, less distant. More human. Maybe even a little… kinder.

Kurogane sat beside him, tail still, watching the exchange with the patient attention of someone who knew not to intervene.

“Why are you wearing so many bandages?” Sasuke repeated, but his voice was different this time—not mocking, not idly curious. It was… observant. Genuine. Like someone noticing something that didn’t fit and needing to understand why.

Sakura felt a sharp sting in his throat.

He didn’t want to explain.

He didn’t want anyone to know.

He didn’t want Sasuke watching him like that—because the Uchiha was one of the smartest people he knew, and he could figure it out.

And Sakura couldn’t let anyone know that.

He crossed his arms and lowered his gaze, an automatic gesture he knew too well: defense.

“I like to be prepared,” he murmured. “You never know when you might need to cover a wound or stop bleeding. Besides, it probably wouldn’t look good if I showed too much skin,” he added, excusing himself. “It’s not proper for a lady.”

It was true, but not the whole truth. Half of those bandages weren’t for precaution—they were out of habit. A habit of hiding what shouldn’t be seen.

Sasuke studied him for another moment. His way of reading—silent, incisive, uncomfortable—as if the words didn’t matter and only what lay beneath them did.

Sakura felt his skin burn under that gaze. “What?” he snapped, irritated. “Do you have a problem with how I dress or what, Uchiha?”

Sasuke shook his head slightly. “I don’t care as long as it doesn’t interfere with your fighting skills.” His words were cold.

And somehow, that unsettled him more than any arrogant remark ever could.

Sasuke wasn’t judging.

He was just… looking.

No one just looked. Not his father, not his mother. Hell, not even Kiba just looked. But Sasuke did. And it seemed… well, as if he simply didn’t care, yet at the same time, as if he were checking and protecting at once. Like when, during the fights, he had stepped in front of him. Twice. Without thinking.

The first time, when they were attacked by those chunin. The second, when Zabuza’s water rose like a liquid blade. He hadn’t done it out of compassion; he had done it for… some reason Sakura couldn’t understand. Because that was Sasuke. Cold, silent, and impossible to read.

Sakura looked away, but the image lingered: the Uchiha’s body in front of his, tense breathing, the sharp sound of impact as he blocked an attack aimed at him.

A strange weight settled in his chest, a warmth he couldn’t tell if it was gratitude or shame.

“Thanks,” he said, without thinking too much.

Sasuke arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For earlier.”

“Ah.”

Just that. A soft sound, a dry response. But it didn’t sound dismissive.

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

“You’re my teammate,” Sasuke answered simply.

“Huh?” Sakura was confused. What did that have to do with Sasuke helping him earlier?

“We’re teammates,” Sasuke repeated. “I’m supposed to do things like that, right? Arrive on time, work with you all, protect—you know, the expected stuff.” The dark-haired boy flexed his fingers at his sides, not as if the conversation bothered him at all.

“Oh.”

The word hovered between them, small and awkward, like it didn’t know where to land, while he remembered a little too late that Iruka-sensei had told them the same thing when assigning them to a team.

Honestly, he hadn’t thought Sasuke would remember or pay attention to something like that. Sakura knew he hadn’t even noticed it himself.

Sasuke remained standing, motionless, back straight, hands in his pockets. His backpack rested on the floor beside him. The dim light filtering through the window fell obliquely on his face, highlighting the shadows beneath his eyes. He seemed tired, but not from the mission—something deeper. Something unrelated to the body.

Sakura realized, not for the first time, that there was something in him he didn’t understand. He had always considered him arrogant, distant, even cruel with his words… a complete jerk. But now, seeing him so close, in that silent hallway with the lingering smell of steam and soap, he didn’t feel that way anymore.

He didn’t seem so much of a jerk, nor so arrogant, nor so… distant.

He seemed like a normal kid. Perhaps a little less insufferable than before, in his own opinion.

Sasuke looked away first, as if the conversation had ended, and picked up his backpack as he passed Sakura to enter the bathroom. The pinkhead stepped aside, moving a few paces while still watching him, surprised and confused.

“You handled yourself well out there,” Sasuke said, giving him his back.

Sakura blinked, confused. “Huh?” he said, rather eloquently.

“That guy earlier, Zabuza… and even those chunin from before,” the Uchiha said, not looking at him. “You didn’t freeze. I thought you would.”

Sakura didn’t know if that was a compliment or just an observation, but his chest tightened anyway—a warm, strange pang he hadn’t expected to feel.

“Huh, I guess it was just instinctive. The necessary stuff to get the mission done and all that,” Sakura replied.

“Exactly.” Sasuke answered, and the tone in his voice—so simple, so neutral—had a strange effect on him. Then the Uchiha closed the bathroom door in his face.

Sakura blinked. “Weirdo,” he muttered, looking at Kurogane, who had started sniffing his backpack. “Hey, wait, pretty girl. You can’t eat treats yet. We haven’t even had dinner.”

He glanced at the bathroom door, sideways, thinking of Sasuke. It wasn’t that he liked him—still not, because in his opinion Sasuke was still a jerk—but the initial revulsion had vanished, dissipating like the steam in the bath.

Maybe, he thought, Sasuke wasn’t as unbearable as he’d believed.

Just maybe.

Kurogane nudged his leg gently with her snout, nipping softly when he refused the treats. Sakura scratched her head, using the gesture as an excuse to look away. “Let’s check on sensei,” he said softly to his ninken. “Then I’ll give you dinner and some dessert treats. How does that sound, pretty girl?”

The ninken barked, tail wagging excitedly.

Sakura looked at her affectionately, feeling just a little better than before.

Chapter Text

Seeing he was awake, Sakura and his teammates hurried over to him.

The pink-haired boy rushed to kneel at his side, while Naruto and Sasuke did the same a bit farther back.

“Listen, Sensei, your Sharingan is cool and all, but if it wears you out this much, maybe it’s not worth using.” he said, watching him with a faint glint of worry in his eyes.

Kakashi narrowed his single visible eye, still breathing somewhat heavily. “Mmm. I’ll keep that in mind…” he murmured, though all three genin knew he wouldn’t.

Sakura frowned, sighing softly as he reached for the jōnin’s wrist, checking his pulse with an almost automatic precision. Kakashi didn’t protest.

Sasuke noticed. Naruto did too. It was as if the simple fact that Sakura touched him so naturally said something about their teammate none of them fully understood.

Kurogane, meanwhile, had sat quietly to the side, ears alert, as if watching to make sure her small human didn’t get swallowed by worry. Her body was curled against her second-favorite human, Kakashi, allowing the man to pet her head.

“How do you feel, Sensei? Does anything hurt? Your breathing is still a little uneven…” Sakura murmured, more to himself than to Kakashi, as if he were stringing together diagnoses in his head.

“I’m fine,” Kakashi replied. But his voice trembled slightly.

Sakura bit his lip, concern drifting over his expression.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I’m fine, Sakura-chan.” Kakashi ruffled his hair gently. The pink-haired boy nodded quietly, not fully believing him.

Then, suddenly, Kakashi brought a hand to his head, as if something hurt. Sakura frowned.

“Tracking-type ninjas are very efficient,” Kakashi said thoughtfully. “So there’s no room for error with them.”

The kids looked at him in confusion, exchanging glances.

“What does that mean?” Sakura asked.

“Do you remember what that tracker did with Zabuza’s body?”

“He took Zabuza somewhere, right?” Sakura replied.

“Exactly,” Kakashi said. “He must’ve worked on Zabuza’s body right there, as quickly as possible.” The man looked at Sasuke. “Think about the weapons he used to finish him. Do you remember what they were?”

“Senbons,” Sasuke answered. His eyes widened a second later as the meaning sank in. “Wait a second…”

“Yes.” Kakashi closed his eyes, looking exhausted. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“What are you talking about?” Naruto asked, confused.

“That boy was a member of the Hidden Mist’s ANBU,” Kakashi explained. “Part of an elite unit often nicknamed the ‘burial squad,’ because they dispose of bodies so thoroughly it’s as if they never existed.”

The blond looked confused. “Why would they do that?”

“Because even after death, a shinobi’s corpse can reveal secrets—techniques, drugs or treatments they’ve used, even traces of the chakra aura of their homeland. It becomes an open book. In the same way, if an enemy took my corpse, they could uncover the anatomical peculiarities of someone with the Sharingan. In the worst case, they’d gain enough information to copy and master that power.”

He looked at each of the three children as he spoke.

“Ninja corpses tell far too many stories. Hunter-nin, like that boy, specialize in tracking and eliminating rogue shinobi—and then erasing their remains.”

“How creepy,” Inner muttered in the back of his mind. “Zabuza’s corpse is going to be chopped up and destroyed? That’s so…”

“It’s cool,” Sakura answered, in his own mental voice.

“Hm?” Inner questioned. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Sakura said. “I just think it’s cool.”

“You’re a weird kid,” Inner noted.

Sakura agreed. After all, a boy pretending to be a girl could never be normal.

“A hunter-ninja is supposed to dispose of the body on the spot,” Kakashi added.

“So what?” Naruto asked.

“This one didn’t,” Sasuke replied. “He took the body.”

“Yes. Zabuza is still alive.”

Silence followed his statement, and then the explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” Naruto and Sakura shouted at the same time. And then Sakura felt stupid for not realizing it sooner, especially since Sasuke had.

“But we saw his body, dattebayo!” Naruto yelled.

“How is that even possible?! But you said he was dead, Sensei!” Sakura added. “You said Zabuza’s heart wasn’t beating!”

“I made sure of that. But a death-like trance could create a convincing illusion of reality, and…” Kakashi looked more serious than ever before. “The weapons hunter-nin use are called senbon. They can pierce deeply, but they rarely kill unless they hit a vital organ or contain some special poison.”

Kakashi continued explaining his reasoning. Naruto looked excited. Sakura, however, did not. His stomach twisted with every word Kakashi spoke. It wasn’t fear exactly; it was… a strange blend of anticipation, disgust, and a sting of frustration at himself for not figuring it out earlier.

You should’ve seen it, he scolded himself. You should’ve understood it from the start.

How hadn’t he noticed something like that? Wasn’t he supposed to be the smart one in the team? How could he call himself a ninja if he didn’t catch something like this?

The air around them grew slightly heavier. There was something damp in the atmosphere, as if the sea breeze carried a warning in its salty threads.

Sakura could feel it: a low-pressured weight, like his skin knew before his mind that something was about to spill over.

Zabuza was alive. And that meant everything—not just for the mission, but for them.

For Kakashi.

Sakura swallowed, pulse speeding up without permission.

“If the tracker took him,” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, “then he’ll come for us too… right, Kakashi-sensei?”

Naruto and Sasuke looked at him immediately.

It was the first time Sakura voiced a thought before them.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, as if assessing the fear behind the question. And that made Sakura want to look away, feeling weak and stupid for being worried or afraid.

Kakashi breathed deeply. “If Zabuza is alive… yes. It’s likely.”

Sakura lowered his gaze.

Kurogane wouldn’t withstand a surprise attack, he thought. And Kakashi wasn’t fully recovered. Naruto and Sasuke were exhausted. And he himself didn’t have enough chakra for a long fight—and he couldn’t afford to tear his skin open again in the middle of battle, because then his teammates would see, and once the questions started… Sakura was terrified of what that would mean.

He felt the tremor in his hand before he realized it was there.

He hid it under his skirt, curling his fingers before anyone noticed.

Kurogane nudged his leg with her nose, sensing the sudden spike of tension. Sakura petted her head automatically. Kurogane was like an anchor. His anchor. His emotional support.

“So…” Naruto began, mouth half-open. “What do we do?”

“First,” Kakashi answered, trying to sit up and failing, “we calm down.”

Sakura leaned toward him before he finished the sentence, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from straining. The touch was natural, automatic—almost intimate in its precise care.

“Sakura…” Kakashi murmured.

“Don’t get up, Sensei.” His voice came out harsher than intended. He cleared his throat, cursing himself. “Your breathing is still irregular, your pulse is still fast, and you’re not fully recovered. If you push yourself now, you’ll just faint again.”

Kakashi blinked, surprised. And Sakura withdrew his hand, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want them to see how much his hands were shaking—or how scared he was.

“We need to reinforce the house’s security,” he said, unable to stop the urgency in his tone. “If that ninja comes back, or if Zabuza shows up here, Tazuna-san and his family will be in danger.”

Sasuke watched him closely—with that kind of attention that pierced. That kind of attention Sakura hated because it saw too much. But this time… it didn’t hurt as much. Though it still irritated him, maybe even more than before.

“What do you suggest?” the Uchiha asked, to Sakura’s surprise.

Sakura’s heart skipped. Not with joy, but with recognition. Sasuke was treating him like someone whose opinion mattered—no one had done that before. Not unless it was Iruka-sensei or Kiba.

Sakura analyzed the terrain mentally: The team’s condition. The house. Fatigue. Kakashi’s injury. Naruto’s morale. Sasuke’s stubborn silence. His own dwindling capacity.

“We should set traps around the property,” he finally said. “Enough to slow anyone down. And use clones to watch the blind spots around the area.”

Naruto grinned, suddenly energized. “I can do that!”

“But don’t use too much chakra,” Sasuke and Sakura said at the same time.

They stared at each other for a brief, charged moment, as if unsure why they agreed—or why they’d spoken over each other.

“Mhm… how interesting,” Inner hummed. Sakura could see the amused expression on her face.

“Shut up,” Sakura thought, feeling heat climb up his ears for no reason at all, before refocusing on his sensei, who lay half-reclined with a calm yet analytical expression.

It was obvious he was processing things—more than he said, and likely more than they, as genin, should be seeing.

Sakura sighed, his hand stroking Kurogane's head, scratching behind her ears as the ninken shifted until she settled across his legs. Even with Kurogane at his side, the pink-haired boy felt the weight of responsibility sink into his shoulders. The exhaustion in his body. The sting of his wounds. The silent pressure of a mission that had turned out to be far more dangerous than he had anticipated.

However, he also felt something else. A thin thread, almost imperceptible, tightening between him, Naruto, and Sasuke after those first battles where they’d had to fight side by side to survive. It wasn’t friendship. Not yet. But it wasn’t the full disgust Sakura had initially felt either. In its place was something else—something entirely different that felt like… recognition.

“Alright!” Kakashi clapped, drawing the children’s attention back to him. “Time to prepare.”

“Sensei… you talk about preparation, but you can’t even move right now… what exactly are you going to do?” Sakura asked, his voice thick with worry. Kakashi was completely drained of chakra—he really shouldn’t be attempting anything big right now.

“I’m going to increase your training regimen!” Kakashi declared, closing his visible eye in a smile.

“Our… training regimen…?”

Sakura blinked, stunned. Had he heard that correctly?

Kakashi, still pale and half-slumped against the wall, lifted a thumbs-up with a dramatic flair utterly inappropriate for someone who had been unconscious minutes ago.

“Of course,” he said in that casual tone Sakura was already learning to recognize as his “friendly” way of saying: you’re screwed. “After all, our enemy’s still alive. So… we’ll have to raise the stakes.”

Sakura stared at him for a whole second without blinking.

Then another.

And another.

“Sensei,” Sakura finally said, exhaustion seeping all the way into his soul, “you can’t even sit up.”

Kakashi tilted his head to the side, as if acknowledging the truth but refusing to stop smiling beneath the mask. “Details.”

Naruto lit up instantly. “Yeah!! Training! We’ll totally beat them when they come back, dattebayo!”

“Kakashi-sensei still needs to rest!” Sakura yelled, frowning as his voice took on the tone he usually reserved for Kiba when he was being particularly difficult or stupid. He stood with hands on his hips, staring at his teacher with a mix of anxiety and exasperation. “You can’t even stand up, Sensei! We can’t start now!”

His teammates stared at him, surprised. Sakura didn’t care. Worrying about his comrades wasn’t something he’d ever be ashamed of—especially not on a mission this dangerous.

“Hehe, sorry Sakura-chan, I got carried away,” Kakashi said after noticing his concern. “Of course we’ll start tomorrow! Training while we wait—won’t that be fun?”

“It won’t be fun for you.”

Everyone turned to look at the boy standing by the doorway.

“Who the hell are yo—”

“Inari! Where have you been?” Tazuna exclaimed excitedly, arms open wide.

“Welcome home, Grandpa…” the boy muttered, giving a half-hearted salute before hugging him.

“Inari! Greet our guests properly! They’re esteemed shinobi who brought your grandfather home safely,” Tsunami scolded, standing in a pose very similar to the one Sakura had used earlier. The boy stared at the three Genin, examining them before turning back to his mother.

“But mom, they’re all going to die.”

“Listen here, you little idiot—!”

“Well… he’s not wrong…” Sakura mumbled. They were all going to die at some point anyway, right?

“Nobody can beat Gato and his men,” the boy said. But Sakura didn’t miss the air of defeat clinging to him. He recognized it easily—it was something he had to fight off every morning just to get up.

Sakura watched the child a few seconds too long.

The way Inari had said it—flat, resigned—wasn’t at all different from many of the thoughts Sakura had had alone for years.

Death.

Naruto defied it.

Sasuke challenged it and feared it.

But for Sakura… death had never been an enemy. It was a reminder. An option. A dignified ending for someone like him, someone who’d been born as a disgrace in the eyes of his own people.

“Everyone’s going to die,” he repeated in his mind, the boy’s voice echoing with a familiarity that stung.

Sakura stayed quiet, holding the thought like someone brushes a thumb over an old scar.

Yes.

Everyone would die someday.

Some crying, some without understanding why. But Sakura had always believed that if he was going to die, he would do it with purpose—as a way to redeem himself. With something that justified all he had endured. And dying to protect someone… that made sense.

Kurogane rested her head on his knee, as if she could sense he was thinking too much. Sakura scratched behind her ear absentmindedly, his eyes still fixed on the boy, watching him with an odd stillness—almost analytical—while Inari’s words drifted through the air like a sentence he already knew.

“Everyone’s going to die.”

The phrase didn’t land with the impact it should have. Not for him. Sakura didn’t feel the emotional blow Naruto felt—that immediate urge to contradict, to reaffirm life.

To Sakura, the idea of death was almost domestic, familiar—like acknowledging a troublesome neighbor you pass on the street. Because death, for Sakura, had never been an enemy. Just a possibility. A clean ending. A dignified exit for someone who, according to his mother, should never have existed the way he did. Even so, something in Inari’s voice left a faint sting in his chest—not because death frightened him… but because he recognized that tone.

Defeat.

The resignation of someone who had given up too early.

Sakura knew that bitter taste very well.

Naruto, on the other hand, burst into living fire.

“What did you say, brat?!” he roared, fist tightening.

“Calm down, idiot.” The Uchiha frowned, holding Naruto back—but not because of Inari. Because of what Sakura had murmured earlier and that only Sasuke seemed to notice.

“Inari…” Tsunami sighed, embarrassed but weakly.

Sakura leaned forward a little, still sitting beside Kakashi.

Kurogane raised her head too, sensing her human’s anxiety, watching the boy with the same silent attentiveness.

“He’s not lying,” Sakura said, with a calm so cold that even Sasuke turned to look at him. “We’re all going to die sooner or later.”

Naruto spun toward him, eyes wide. “Sakura-chan! Don’t tell him he’s right!”

“I didn’t say that.” Sakura narrowed his eyes, analyzing the boy before looking at Naruto with a gaze that seemed empty on the surface but was filled with too much: exhaustion, cold logic, a brutal understanding of the world. “I’m just saying he’s not lying about death. It’s part of the job. And if we die here, at least it’ll be while doing something good, right?”

“Sakura-chan…” Naruto murmured, looking at him like he’d realized something.

Sakura suddenly felt uncomfortable. “What?”

“All of you are going to die!” Inari said again. “So just leave!”

“You little—!!” Naruto exploded once more, this time stopped by Sakura tugging the back of his shirt.

“Calm down, Naruto! He’s just a kid!”

“Right,” Naruto grumbled. “Hey! Listen up, brat… I’m Uzumaki Naruto, and I’m a superhero who’s gonna be the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf someday, dattebayo! Gato? You think I’d be scared of someone who sends others to do his dirty work?!”

“A hero? Are you stupid? There’s no such thing!”

“What—?!”

This time both Sakura and Sasuke grabbed him. “I said leave him alone!” Sakura yelled.

“If you don’t want to die, go home now,” the boy muttered, turning toward the hallway door.

“Where are you going, Inari?” Tazuna asked.

“I’m going to look at the ocean from my room…” He slid the door shut behind him.

“Please forgive him…” Tazuna sighed. Naruto, unable to let it go, stormed out after him.

The room began to empty little by little. Tazuna went to rest and Tsunami to prepare dinner. Sakura helped Kakashi fall asleep again by giving him more water, watching him with worried eyes. Thankfully, exhaustion took over quickly and Kakashi drifted off again.

Just in case, Sakura lifted the headband to touch Kakashi’s forehead, relieved when he felt no fever. He checked the man’s pulse afterward, and felt even better noticing it was normal.

He turned around and found Sasuke staring at him. “What?” Sakura snapped.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes even more. “…You’re annoying…”

“I’m… what…?” Sakura stared at him for a few seconds before irritation flooded his entire face. “What the hell is wrong with you now, you bastard? You looking for a fight?”

Sakura kept the irritated look, brows furrowed, hands tense at his sides. His chest was still tight from the earlier argument, and exhaustion was beginning to sharpen again.

Sasuke, however, didn’t move. He didn’t step back. He just looked at him. That kind of stare with no edges, no softness, no judgment—just that quiet intensity that made Sakura want to cross his arms over his bandages, an instinctive reflex.

“You’re annoying,” Sasuke repeated, softer this time.

“You already said that.” Sakura clenched his teeth. Sasuke was always saying that. He’d done it since the academy, like he was trying to provoke a fight. Sakura used to fight him sometimes, with Kiba cheering in the background until a teacher showed up.

He’d stopped caring about those words after one of the teachers told his mom, and he’d ended up punished for not “behaving like a proper young lady.” Since then, Sakura tried to avoid the unpleasant Uchiha whenever he could.

He clicked his tongue. “You’re an idiot. And not a normal idiot, but a professional, irritating one.”

Sasuke didn’t reply. Which, for him, was an answer. There was a second—barely one—in which Sakura felt the air thin between them. As if something invisible stretched there, pulled tight like a thread neither of them knew how to name.

Then Sasuke spoke again. “You…” The word hung there. He seemed annoyed at himself for starting it. His jaw tightened, he looked away, then looked back. “…you get exhausted too fast.”

The sentence fell between them like a stone dropped into water—silent, heavy, spreading ripples Sakura could feel on his skin.

The pink-haired boy blinked. “What?”

Sasuke crossed his arms sharply, as if the pose could hide the tension in his shoulders. “You’re… doing too much. All the time. You’re even helping the people in this house when you don’t have to.” He spoke quickly, without pauses, like he needed to rip the words out before they got stuck in his throat. “You’re slow when you push yourself like that, Sakura. And if you get tired in the middle of a fight, you’ll drag all of us down with you.”

Sakura felt something in his chest jolt. A pinch. A bitter little sting.

‘What an asshole,’ he thought. Sasuke just said things without stopping to think how they’d sound to him. A real bastard, in Sakura’s opinion.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said bitterly. “I won’t be useless to the team, or dead weight.”

Sasuke frowned. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“No.” Sasuke stepped forward—barely. Just a small shift. But Sakura felt it like someone pushing against his heart. “I didn’t say you’re useless. You fought earlier. You moved well. And you… you didn’t get in our way. But you’re tired now, and that’ll be bad if we get attacked again.”

Sakura felt something flip inside his chest. “Oh.” He looked at him—open, exposed for a moment that shouldn’t have existed.

Sasuke, maybe sensing that vulnerability, looked away abruptly, as if the mere idea of saying something like that irritated him with himself. “Rest, annoyance,” he told him. “I’m going to make sure traps are placed outside.”

“Sasuke…”

The Uchiha sighed, annoyed. “If you get yourself killed because you’re stupid enough not to rest, it’ll be a pain for all of us,” he grumbled. “So go to sleep or something.”

Sakura blinked. First confused. Then… amused. And finally, warm.

Well. So Sasuke Uchiha could worry, huh? How surprising.

.

.

.

Team 7 stood in the forest, not far from Tazuna’s house. Kakashi watched them closely; he needed to lean on a crutch, much to Sakura’s displeasure. If he needed a crutch just to stand, how was he supposed to train them properly?

“Today marks the beginning of our new training!” Kakashi announced. Naruto let out a joyful shout. “But first, let’s talk about the foundation of your ninja abilities: chakra.”

“Ah, uh, right... what was that again?”

Sakura flinched, sending him an incredulous stare. “And you call yourself a ninja? What the hell, Naruto? Did you sleep through every class?”

Naruto scratched the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

Kakashi sighed. “Sakura, if you don’t mind…”

“Ugh, fine.” Sakura grumbled. He had woken up in a terrible mood: everything still hurt despite using nearly all the ointment on his body, his hair had been such a mess that he’d had to tie it up in a high ponytail, and Sasuke kept shooting him those irritating looks... “Pay attention and try to learn something for once, Naruto! Or I’ll hit you!” he threatened.

Naruto nodded quickly, a bit terrified by his teammate’s glare.

“I’ll try to keep it simple,” Sakura said. “Chakra is the energy required to perform any ninjutsu or genjutsu. That energy is composed of:

1. the physical energy from each of the roughly 13 trillion cells that make up the human body, and

2. the mental and spiritual energy gained through training and experience. All shinobi arts and techniques come from a combination of these two energies, mixed within the body and spirit in a process known as ‘chakra manipulation’ and focused through the use of hand seals.”

“Correct. I’m glad to know Iruka-sensei taught some of his students well,” Kakashi said, staring directly at Naruto.

“Oh, whatever—I’m not good with long explanations, but if you show me, my body can learn!”

“If you want to be Hokage that badly, then get used to long explanations, for fuck’s sake!” Sakura growled.

Naruto swallowed hard at Sakura’s sharp tone but still raised his hand like he was in class. “O-okay, okay! Don’t get like that, Sakura-chan! I’m just saying I learn better because—”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Sakura cut him off.

“Nooo, wait.” Naruto squinted at him, tilting his head as if examining him with ridiculous seriousness. “Hey, you’re super grumpy today… Don’t tell me you’re… you know… on your days?”

A deadly silence fell.

Sasuke blinked. Barely.

Kakashi lifted his eyes from his book very slowly, as if suddenly realizing something important and mentally noting it down for his survival.

Meanwhile, Kurogane, lying at Sakura’s feet, perked up her ears as though she’d sensed the tension burst in the air, then covered her face with a paw.

Sakura, on the other hand, went completely still. So still that Naruto’s smile vanished on pure survival instinct.

“What did you just say?” Sakura’s voice came out soft. Too soft. Sweet, even.

Naruto stepped back, sweating cold. “I-I’m just saying!! That you’re really sensitive!! Maybe it’s a girl thing and—!”

Sakura didn’t let him finish. His fist shot forward and landed squarely on the top of Naruto’s head, packing all the frustration, lingering pain, and morning irritation into a single blow.

“DON’T SAY STUPID THINGS!!”

Naruto fell to the ground with a dramatic groan, rolling in dry leaves.

“AAAHHH! Why are you hitting me?! I was just asking!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE AN IDIOT AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHEN TO SHUT UP!!”

“How was I supposed to know?! You even get mad weirdly, Sakura-chan!”

“NARUTOOOO!!”

Kakashi sighed very, very deeply. “Okay, kids… if you’re done with the domestic genin violence, we can continue.”

Sasuke, who had watched everything silently, crossed his arms and glanced away when Sakura shot him a glare.

“What?” Sasuke muttered, as if someone had accused him of something. “He started it.”

“I didn’t say anything to you,” Sakura huffed, feeling heat rise to his face—not from embarrassment but from sheer frustration with the whole universe.

“You shouldn’t yell so much,” Sasuke added, in the driest tone possible.

Sakura glared. “Do you want me to hit you too?”

“Try it.” Sasuke replied emotionlessly—though a muscle in his jaw tensed, like he didn’t actually want to fight but had no idea how to say anything else.

Kakashi cleared his throat. “All right. If you’ve finished your… usual dynamic…”

Naruto was still whining on the ground.

Sakura nudged him lightly in the side with his foot just to shut him up.

Sasuke watched Sakura longer than necessary, as if assessing whether his irritation came only from the punch or from something deeper.

And yes—Sakura was irritated. His back hurt, his stitches hurt, his bandages hurt, his pride hurt, his exhaustion hurt. He was fed up with everything. And worst of all, though he would never admit it, Naruto’s comment had embarrassed him—hitting a raw, insecure knot inside him.

Kakashi snapped his book shut with a clack. “Let’s continue with chakra before someone ends up seriously injured.”

Sakura snorted, crossing his arms.

Naruto whimpered.

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“Now,” Kakashi continued, “considering that none of you have fully mastered your chakra yet—”

“WHAT?!” Naruto screeched. 

“As Sakura explained earlier, chakra manipulation is the act of summoning physical and mental energy and combining it inside your body. Depending on the technique you want to use, the amount you release—and the elemental composition you mix—will vary. Right now, none of you are using your chakra effectively. It doesn’t matter how much you summon or manipulate; if you can’t maintain balance, the technique will be half as effective at best, and at worst, won’t work at all. And because the energy burns so quickly, you not only lack the stamina for prolonged combat—you also create significant vulnerabilities.”

“So what do we do?” Naruto asked.

“You learn to control your bodies through the hardest training…”

“The hardest training?” Sakura doubted Kakashi was in any condition to give such a thing.

“That’s right. Tree climbing.”

“Just climbing trees?”

“Is this a joke to you, Kakashi-sensei?!”

“How is that hard training?”

“This is a waste of time, Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto yelled again.

“This won’t be normal tree climbing. You’re not allowed to use your hands.”

Sakura looked at him curiously. How were they supposed to do that?

“Wait! That sounds fun!” Naruto exclaimed, while Sasuke’s look of disgust softened into curiosity.

“How?” Sakura asked.

“Watch and learn.”

Kakashi began walking up the tree trunk, parallel to the ground. He turned to face them again once he was standing upside down on a branch.
“You must focus all your chakra into the soles of your feet and use that power to cling to the trunk. Once you fully master your chakra, you’ll be able to do this.”

“How is this supposed to make us stronger?” Sasuke asked.

“The goal is chakra control. Using only what is necessary, but maximizing its effect depending on where and how you apply it. That subtle control is the most crucial element of every jutsu and technique you perform. It’s also the hardest skill for a ninja to master. This exercise requires the most delicate application of chakra imaginable. Especially because the soles of the feet are one of the hardest points to manipulate. In other words… if you can master the chakra control needed for this, no jutsu should be out of your reach.” Kakashi explained tiredly.

His eye swept over each of them as he spoke, then he threw three kunai at their feet.

“Mark the height you reach with those kunai,” he said. “Begin!"

Naruto and Sasuke seemed satisfied with that explanation, while Sakura began analyzing all the information Kakashi had just given them.

Focusing chakra on the soles of the feet? In theory, it sounded simple. In theory. And that was precisely why he distrusted it: when something seemed easy, it almost always hid unexpected variables.

“The sole of the foot is a difficult point to control,” Kakashi had said.

Sakura knew that.

The medical books he had read in his free time mentioned that the body’s balance and sensitivity relied on the nervous system connected from the soles of the feet all the way up the spine… all those tiny muscles working in perfect coordination. That meant any excess chakra would cause an immediate imbalance. Maybe a tremor in the limbs, maybe an overload in the ankle muscles, or a pull in the calves.

Too little chakra and the foot would lose traction.

Too much chakra and the body would bounce backward from the force being expelled.

An extremely narrow margin.

That was very irritating.

Sakura inhaled, calming himself. His aching back protested. Everything protested. And yet, he was the only one of the three who actually seemed to think before acting.

Sasuke was staring at the trunk as if he wanted to fight it, having already climbed and fallen.

Naruto was already tensing his entire body to launch himself again, with no plan whatsoever after failing the first time.

And Kakashi was still there, leaning on his crutch like it wasn’t his problem if one of them cracked their skull open trying.

Sakura pressed his lips into a line.

“Before trying it…” he muttered quietly, mostly to himself. “I have to measure how much energy my body releases with just the minimum amount. If… if I use too much chakra by accident, I could hurt my legs. And I’m already in enough pain.”

“Sakura-chan,” Kakashi called. “Why haven’t you started yet?” he asked.

Sakura ignored him. Not out of rudeness, but simply because he was thinking.

Chakra control was, essentially, a mathematical balance: Physical energy + spiritual energy = chakra. Chakra → manipulation → release through the specific point of the body.

If he wanted to climb a tree without using his hands, the first step was finding the exact point where the energy needed to flow steadily.

Then, test the minimum amount possible until he felt adherence, not propulsion.

Then, add a little more.

Sakura took a deep breath. “Kurogane…” The little dog lifted her head immediately. “Stay,” he said, pointing at a shaded spot under the tree and pulling from his pouch a small dog bone he had brought, tossing it for her to chew on while she waited. Better not risk Kurogane getting excited and pushing him while he climbed.

Kurogane obeyed, lying down in the shade and happily gnawing on the bone.

Sakura looked at Naruto, who was once again in a runner’s stance.

“READYYYY!! I’m going first!!”

Sakura could almost see him dying in his mind.

Naruto shot forward, pouring chakra into his feet with zero technique.

The result was immediate: he stuck to the trunk for less than a second before literally exploding backward like a bouncing ball.

“AAAAAAAUUGHH!! WHY DID IT BOUNCE ME OFF?!”

Sasuke, who had climbed a little before falling again, rolled his eyes. “You used too much, idiot.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH?!”

Sakura sighed. He would’ve explained it, but he felt he couldn’t unless Naruto tried it himself first.

He walked toward the tree, the kunai Kakashi had given him in hand. Then he took a deep breath and directed a minimal amount of chakra to his soles.

Fine control.

Not brute force.

Not strength.

Stability.

He felt a tingling on the skin of his feet.

A faint grip.

An almost microscopic tension.

“…I think I get it,” he murmured.

And he took the first step. As soon as Sakura’s foot touched the bark, he calculated the tree’s resistance compared to his own and immediately adapted his chakra to match it. Encouraged by the fact he didn’t fall right away, he continued. It was surprisingly easy to maintain.

Sakura’s foot adhered to the bark with an almost imperceptible grip—just enough to hold him without sinking in.

Subtle.

Too subtle.

But enough.

The trunk vibrated under his sole like a faint, steady pulse. Sakura adjusted the chakra immediately, reducing the pressure by a millimeter to prevent the energy from scattering.

Good.

That was the balance point.

He inhaled, lifted the other foot, and repeated the calculation.

Unity. Stability. Controlled tension.

Every tiny muscle in his ankles tightened to keep him balanced.

Sakura could feel them working like gears: extension of the peroneal muscle, adjustment of the calf, a light pull from the plantar flexors. All aligning.

That meant he was doing well.

Naruto, meanwhile, was screaming behind him.

“IF I’M DOING IT RIGHT TOO, DATTEBAYOOOO—!!”

BOOOOM.

Sakura didn’t turn around, but the sound of Naruto detonating against the tree spoke for itself.

Sasuke clicked his tongue behind him, arrogant. “Idiot.”

Sakura kept moving, with that cold, mathematical calm that always took over when his mind went into technical mode.

One… two steps.

The chakra responded.

The grip held.

No bouncing.

No slipping.

No failure.

Perfect.

He might have smiled, but his back throbbed with a sharp pain right on the side where his wounds were.

His body protested. His muscle memory protested. His exhaustion protested. But he didn’t stop.

He never stopped.

He couldn’t stop when he had a goal to accomplish.

He clenched his jaw, inhaling carefully so he wouldn’t strain the injured area, and kept climbing until he reached the highest branch that could hold his weight. He sat on it, his eyes drifting to the view stretching out from up there, where he could see the ocean—blue and beautiful, vast and glowing—while the wind in his hair and on his face made him feel so euphoric and free… so different from how he felt at home. As if he didn’t need to pretend who he was up here. As if he could just be himself: Sakura. And not the boy forced to pretend to be a girl so no one would discover the disgrace he had been considered since birth.

It felt so good that a genuine laugh burst out of him, and he couldn’t hold it back. He didn’t want to. When was the last time he laughed freely while he was alone?

“Amazing! Well done, Sakura-chan!” Naruto shouted in his shrill voice from below, and Sakura looked down, remembering he wasn’t alone.

His teammates were staring at him, and so was his sensei. Sakura, in response, smiled and stuck his tongue out at them playfully.

“Well, now we know which one of you three has the best chakra control,” Kakashi began loudly, and Sakura puffed his chest proudly at that. “Understanding chakra use and manipulating it successfully is quite an achievement so far… Sakura is probably the closest to surpassing our Hokage, despite all your boasting and aspirations, Naruto.”

The blond pouted.

“And the great hope of the Uchiha clan doesn’t look so promising right now.”

Sasuke glared daggers at him.

“Huh?” Sakura blinked at Kakashi’s words. What the hell was wrong with sensei?! He was just going to make the two idiots start fighting him now!

Naruto and Sasuke stared at each other intensely, then both stared at Sakura before starting to climb their own trees with a competitive air. Sakura began to descend carefully until he reached the ground and then walked toward Kakashi.

Naruto fell again, whining, and Sakura thought maybe he could help him a bit. If he didn’t, Naruto was going to break a rib at this rate, and Sakura didn’t think that would be good for the mission.

“Naruto,” he finally said, approaching him. “Think of chakra like paint. If you use too little, the surface stays dry. If you use too much, it drips. You only need the amount necessary to coat the bottom of your foot. No more, no less.”

Naruto looked at him as if Sakura had just revealed the exact formula to create gold.

“Paint?”

“Yes.”

“Chakra… paint?”

“Yes.”

“…I didn’t understand anything,” Naruto admitted.

Sakura closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself that hitting him again wouldn’t help, so he tried to explain it better until Naruto seemed to grasp it.

“I got it!” Naruto shouted, smiling brightly. “You’re the best, Sakura-chan!”

Sakura smiled and turned to look at Sasuke to offer help, but the dark-haired boy ignored him completely, so the pink-haired boy—being petty—decided Sasuke could handle it alone.

He moved toward the adult present. “Kakashi-sensei!” he called. His sensei tore his gaze away from the boys and looked at him. “I’m done with this exercise. Is there another one I can do? Or some other kind of training?”

Kakashi observed him for a moment. “Go up and down the tree a few more times,” he instructed in a gentle tone, considerably softer than the one he used with Naruto or Sasuke. “Then you can go home and rest, Sakura-chan. I know menstrual cramps can be rough on kunoichi.”

Sakura felt his eyebrow twitch. “You’re the biggest idiot in the world, sensei!” he shouted angrily before turning and running off.

Stupid, stupid sensei.

Sakura ran without looking back, not because he was in a hurry, but because he needed to release the pressure in his chest before he really exploded.

Kakashi had pressed all his buttons at once, and Sakura knew it wasn’t his fault… but it still burned.

He still felt that mix of irritation, embarrassment, and anger twisting inside him.

Stupid sensei.

Stupid comment.

Stupid body that hurt everywhere.

“Menstrual? Seriously?!” he hissed between his teeth as he leaped through the branches.

Kurogane, alert, barked once and sprinted after him, following with light and attentive steps as if afraid Sakura might disappear among the trees.

The forest was cool, damp with dew that was just beginning to evaporate. The salty air from the nearby coast drifted in, mixing with the smell of earth and wet leaves.

It was a pleasant environment—something anyone else would enjoy.

But not Sakura. Not right then. Each impact of his feet against the branches made his back protest. Each jump reminded him he was pushing his body too far. Every deep breath burned.

But stopping was worse, because stopping meant feeling. And feeling meant thinking. And thinking… meant being back home. Back to hearing: “You’re a disgrace,” “You should have been a girl,” “You ruined everything the day you were born.”

He let out a frustrated growl and accelerated.

His chakra stabilized by habit: weight distributed, measured impulse, calculated breathing.

Even irritated, Sakura analyzed every movement.

It was how he held himself together.

Finally, after several minutes of running, he stopped on a wider branch and then dropped to the ground, letting himself sit against the tree trunk. His body trembled slightly from the accumulated effort.

“I’m being stupid…” he murmured. “I shouldn’t waste energy.”

Kurogane approached his leg and nudged it with her nose, worried.

Sakura took a deep breath, leaning down to pet her head—when he felt a presence nearby. Silent. Soft. Light as a whisper.

“Are you alright?” said a sweet, almost musical voice.

Sakura tensed immediately, springing to his feet and turning on his heels as he reached for his kunai. Kurogane bristled, placing herself in front of him with a low growl.

In front of them, carrying a small wicker basket full of herbs, stood a girl. Long, dark hair. Calm eyes. A soft, almost angelic face. Simple, neat clothing from the Land of Water, and a gentle expression that made her seem even more beautiful.

“Oh,” the girl continued, bowing her head slightly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. That wasn’t my intention.”

Sakura observed her with calculating eyes. His breathing steadied. His posture shifted into something more relaxed as he put away the kunai he’d drawn and looked at the girl, still somewhat surprised.

Shit.

He hadn’t noticed she was there. How distracted had he been?

“Who are you?” Sakura asked with carefully measured coldness, though his heart was beating faster.

The girl smiled softly, as if nothing about this sudden encounter in the middle of the forest was strange. “My name is Haku,” she replied. “I live nearby,” she added. “I was gathering herbs when you appeared.”

Haku was beautiful. Not just pretty—soft, almost ethereal, with a tranquility that wrapped around everything like a warm mist.

Sakura blinked… twice. Then he tried to compose himself, but his brain—already exhausted, hurting, and emotionally irritated—simply processed “pretty woman” = “mild panic + social clumsiness.”

Wonderful.

Exactly what he needed to finish off the day.

“…You live here…” Sakura repeated, trying to make his voice sound normal and not like he had just been struck in the forehead by an emotional arrow. “That’s… uh... interesting. I’m Sakura, by the way.”

Haku tilted her head with a gentle smile.

Something in that smile made Sakura’s chest tighten slightly.

Kurogane was not convinced. She planted herself in front of Sakura, back arched, growling low, full protective mode.

“It’s okay, Kurogane,” Sakura murmured, gently touching her head. The pup didn’t stop growling, but she stayed still. “I’m sorry.” Sakura lifted his gaze toward Haku again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s not usually this protective.”

Haku leaned in a little to get a better look at the dog. “She seems like a loyal companion,” she said in that same soft, melodic tone. “And strong, judging by how she stands.”

Sakura felt his cheeks warm up a degree. “So, uh… you collect herbs?” he asked, pointing at the basket. “For… medicine?”

Haku’s eyes brightened slightly, surprised by the accuracy of the question. “Yes,” she replied. “For medicine. How did you notice?”

Sakura cleared his throat, trying to hide how his brain was already scanning every leaf in the basket. There was senburi. A bit of angelica. Even a couple of yamabuki leaves… good for reducing inflammation.

“Well… it’s just that I also…” Sakura hesitated, which was unusual. “I know a bit about medicine. Books. Experience. That kind of thing.” He rubbed his cheek with a finger in a nervous gesture.

“Oh?” Haku smiled, genuinely interested. “That’s admirable.”

Admirable.

Oh dear god.

Sakura felt a warm flutter in his chest as his brain seemed to crack slightly.

“Ah… th-thanks.” Sakura looked away for a moment. “You also seem… very… uh… dedicated.”

Please tell me that didn’t sound weird, he thought.

Haku let out a small laugh, gentle, like the chime of a crystal bowl. “I’m glad you notice. Many people don’t usually pay attention to details.”

Sakura swallowed. Was this girl flirting? Or was he just delirious from pain and previous anger? Or was she simply being polite?

“I… I pay a lot of attention.” And then, as if his mouth had decided to act on its own: “To details. Especially when they’re… pretty.”

Silence.

Haku’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Kurogane froze mid-growl, turning his head toward Sakura as if to say: Seriously? Now?

Sakura wanted to die.

Inner laughed in the back of his mind. “Wow, very subtle, Sakura-chan.” she teased. “Your flirting is actually kind of adorable.”

“Shut up! I’m not flirting!” Sakura yelled mentally at Inner, mortified.

“Oh,” was all Haku said, with such natural sweetness that it made everything worse. “You’re… very kind.”

Sakura covered his mouth for a moment, pretending he was wiping the corner, but in reality he was trying to remember how to breathe. “Ahem. Yes. Well.”

Get it together, idiot, he told himself. Since when did he get this nervous around pretty girls? That had never happened before—not even with Ino, and she was definitely pretty.

“And… do you live alone? Or…?”

Haku shook her head gently. “No. I live with someone important to me.”

Sakura nodded.

Okay.

That was fair.

A girl like her would have someone around.

A boyfriend, probably.

Though something in the way Haku said it didn’t sound particularly romantic.

“He must be lucky,” Sakura murmured, far too sincere even for himself.

Haku blinked slowly. Again, that peaceful, unreadable air. “I suppose he is,” she said. “And you? You seem far from your group.”

Sakura tensed slightly. “It’s just that… I needed to run. Think. And… my sensei was being—”

A demon.

A devil.

A pain in the soul.

“Annoying,” Sakura finished diplomatically. “He was acting like a real idiot.”

Haku let out a light laugh. “Then I understand. Sometimes we all need… to step away a little.”

The words struck something a bit too deep.

Sakura swallowed. “…Yeah.”

For a moment, there was silence.

A comfortable silence. Almost dangerous, because it made something in Sakura relax too much.

Haku stepped closer. Just one step. But Sakura felt it like a direct hit to his nervous system.

“Does something hurt?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Your breathing is tense. And I saw you touch your side a moment ago.”

Sakura froze entirely. Had she observed him that quickly?

“It’s just a wound,” he tried to downplay it. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’m a ninja, you know?” he said. “I can handle some pain.”

Haku looked at him with those soft eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything. “If you want,” she said slowly, “I can help you gather some herbs to ease the pain, Sakura-san.”

His soul loosened. Dear god, this girl was so kind.

“…Sure,” he said, almost without thinking. “I’d… uh… like that.”

Haku smiled. And Sakura made the worst mistake possible: he blushed.

Haku walked with such light grace that even the leaves didn’t crunch under her sandals. Sakura, on the other hand, walked with the clumsy movements of someone oscillating between physical pain, emotional embarrassment, and a minor existential anxiety attack.

Kurogane remained bristling as if the girl's presence were an insidious threat. Sakura had to brush her hair from time to time, in a futile attempt to stop her from growling at her.

"I'm so sorry," Sakura murmured for the third time. "I don't know why she's like this. She's usually very sociable."

Haku let out a gentle laugh. “Don’t worry, Sakura-san. Animals can sense when someone is nervous. Maybe she’s just reacting to your emotional state.”

Sakura stopped for a second. Was he nervous?

Inner whistled in his head. “Oh no, sweetheart, not at all. You only look like you’re about to faint on top of the pretty girl who’s smiling at you.”

“SHUT UP!” Sakura snapped mentally.

Outside, he only managed to press his lips into a thin line, which on his face looked dangerously like a mix of discomfort and shyness. “I’m… I’m perfectly fine,” Sakura lied, wincing slightly as he moved his back.

Haku noticed.

Haku seemed to notice everything, and that didn’t help.

“This way,” Haku said, walking toward a clearing in the forest where the light filtered through the leaves like golden rain. “There are some plants that will help you.”

Upon arriving, Sakura recognized several species instantly: shika leaves, good for muscle tension. Some yellow flowers that worked as a mild analgesic and even some thin roots that looked like akamizu, excellent for inflammation.

Sakura blinked, genuinely impressed. “This… this is perfect,” he murmured, crouching down to examine the plants. “These herbs are hard to find together in one place…”

“You’re very intelligent,” Haku praised him.

Sakura felt his heart make a strange little noise.

Haku knelt beside him, moving with a delicate grace, the wide sleeves of her clothing brushing softly against the grass. Sakura, without meaning to, noticed how close her face was to his.

“...Th-thank you for this,” Sakura murmured, avoiding looking directly into the girl’s large, deep eyes beside him.

“It’s a pleasure,” Haku replied, far too close. “And besides… it’s not good to ignore injuries. Even if you’re strong.”

Strong.

That word hit him harder than any enemy strike.

Sakura opened his mouth, stunned. Almost no one ever said that to him. No one saw him that way—especially not when he looked so scrawny and fragile.

He picked up one of the plants, examining it between his fingers as he muttered, “I… usually handle things on my own, you know. It’s not a big deal.”

“That also takes strength,” Haku said, tilting her head slightly to observe him more closely. “And courage.”

Courage.

Sakura swallowed so loudly that Kurogane lifted an ear.

“You’re very kind,” was all he managed to say.

Haku smiled again, softly, as if the smile itself had been made to soothe.

“May I help you with this?” Haku asked, reaching toward the herbs Sakura had been gathering. “I can teach you to recognize some medicinal roots useful for internal injuries.”

“Uh—yeah. Yes, of course.”

Had he sounded too enthusiastic?

Probably.

Too late to fix it.

Haku leaned closer, and Sakura felt his brain explode a little with every centimeter of proximity.

“This one here,” Haku said, lightly brushing Sakura’s wrist to guide his hand, “is good for relaxing muscles. You just need to scrape the inner bark.”

The contact made Sakura jump slightly.

“I don’t bite,” Haku said with a smile that had probably killed more than one boy in the past.

Sakura, being an emotional disaster, responded with the classic incoherence: “Ah… well… okay… but if you did, it wouldn’t be that bad—”

Silence.

Haku stared at him.

Kurogane stared at him.

Inner screamed: “YOU WANT TO DIE, DON’T YOU?!”

Sakura nearly collapsed from pure horror. “I-I mean, NO! I mean—uh—bites are bad! For your health, yes!” He covered his face with a hand. “God, kill me.”

Haku covered a soft laugh with her hand. “You’re very amusing, Sakura-san.”

“That’s not what I was aiming for,” Sakura muttered with a defeated sigh.

Haku then stood, holding the basket full of herbs. “You have more than enough to treat your pain now. If you’d like… I can walk with you a little longer. Until you feel safe again.”

Sakura, whose brain was now warm gelatin, managed only: “...y-yes… I’d like that.”

The wind blew softly through the trees.

Haku smiled.

Kurogane remained suspicious.

And they continued collecting and checking herbs for a while. Haku finished arranging the herbs inside the basket. The forest light seemed to gather around her, making her look even softer and almost unreal in Sakura’s eyes.

Still kneeling, Sakura tried to stretch his back a little without making the pain obvious. Kurogane lay at his side, watching every movement Haku made as if witnessing a kidnapping attempt, growling whenever she felt they were too close.

Sakura held his own bundle of medicinal herbs tied together in his hand, making sure he wouldn’t drop them on the way back to Tazuna’s house.

“I have to go,” Haku announced, and Sakura almost pouted. “But before I leave,” she said, bending down to pick something near the bushes, “there’s something else I want to give you.”

Sakura blinked, nervous. “Huh? Something else besides the medicinal herbs?”

Haku straightened up holding a small flower with pink petals—slightly darker than Sakura’s hair—between her fingers. It looked freshly washed by morning dew, bright, soft, perfectly in harmony with the forest.

“I think it’ll look nice on you,” Haku said with a calm smile.

Sakura blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“On… me?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Haku stepped closer. A silent, soft step.

Sakura felt an internal jolt, like his whole body forgot how to coordinate. He swallowed, staring with wide, owl-like eyes.

“I can put it on you if you don’t mind,” Haku offered, raising her hand. “It brings out your eyes.”

Brings out his—

BRINGS OUT HIS WHAT?!

Sakura felt his soul leave his body.

“I-I… I mean… that’s fine… I guess…”

Inner appeared immediately: “You’re going to look SO PRETTY, Sakura-CHAN.”

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously, this is pure gold.”

Haku leaned even closer, so close Sakura could smell the faint freshness of herbs from her clothes. Her fingers brushed his hair gently, parting strands of pink with practiced delicacy. Kurogane let out a deep, restrained growl while Haku set the little flower just behind Sakura’s ear.

“Perfect,” Haku murmured. Sakura felt his neck ignite. And his face. And probably his entire existence. “It suits you very well.”

Sakura opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “Ah,” he finally managed, “uh… thank you.”

Haku smiled. “I hope to see you again, Sakura-san.”

And then Sakura made his second mistake of the day: “So do I,” he said—too sincerely.

And then came the third mistake:

He leaned forward, placed a trembling hand on Haku’s shoulder for balance, and kissed her cheek. Not an accidental bump. Not an involuntary brush.

No.

A soft, gentle, perfectly placed kiss on her cheek.

Haku froze. Her expression cracked into pure surprise for the first time. Her eyes widened slightly, a faint blush blooming across her cheeks.

Sakura took exactly three seconds to realize what he’d done. “I have to go,” he declared quickly.

“Huh?”

“GOODBYE—BYE—I’M LEAVING—THANK YOU—GOODBYE—” he shouted, and then bolted out of the clearing without looking back, completely mortified by what he’d just done.

Kurogane followed, indignant, barking as if scolding him.

(Haku stood there, quietly touching her cheek with her fingers.)

Sakura ran as fast as he could, even though every step hurt more than the last, drowning in embarrassment, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world for kissing a girl he’d barely just met.

Inner, meanwhile, was rolling on the floor of his mind, crying with laughter. “You threw yourself at her! ‘What did I do’, he says… YOU KISSED HER FACE!”

“SHUT UP!! I didn’t do it on purpose!!” Sakura snapped.

“Oh really? So your mouth was kidnapped? Your lips had their own romantic agenda?” Inner continued teasing.

“I don’t know what happened, I was nervous—she’s really pretty!”

“Hahaha! And so are you, Sakura-Chan~.”

“No—! I—! I’m going to throw myself off a cliff!”

“Before or after you tell the others?”

“INNER!!” Sakura shouted, his face burning. “No one is EVER going to know about this!”

Kurogane barked, bumping his leg as if saying: IDIOT. COMPLETE.

“I know, Kurogane, stop looking at me like that!” Sakura told his ninken, slowing down when he felt he was far enough from the scene of the crime.

The ninken bit his leg, then trotted ahead as if angry with her human for being so stupid.

When he finally reached Tazuna’s cabin, he slammed the door open—still wearing the flower in his hair, face red, breath unsteady, looking like someone who had just fallen in love, died, revived, and died again from embarrassment.

The old man stared at him in confusion. “Huh? What’s wrong with you, girl?”

Sakura shut his eyes. “Nothing!” he squeaked—and realized he’d left the medicinal herbs in the forest.

Suddenly, the day felt even more complicated.