CHAPTER ONE : ACADEMY ARC NO. 1
when I look into the mirror, I don't see a beautiful young girl. I see a monster
I walked into the large classroom, awe painted across my features. My emerald-green eyes darted left to right, absorbing every little detail like a sponge and water. I greedily drunk in the unfamiliar scene.
The classroom had rows of dark mahogany-coloured desks that stood out against the painted cream walls. The ground was slightly raised near the front of the room where the teacher's desk and files stood in the centre, and along the class there were various posters of Chakra and The Basic Rules of a Shinobi on the walls. Cupboards lined the edges of the room, scrolls and other teaching materials fanned out atop them. The last thing I noticed was the large black chalkboard at the front of the room, an eraser and some chalk set on a small makeshift shelf.
Young students, all around my age, loitered around the neatly placed desks and seats, chatting animatedly. The entire class hadn't arrived yet, I realised after sparing a sidelong glance at the small clock hanging from the wall. The few here were incredibly early, a fact that both puzzled and bothered me. I'd hoped to spend some time familiarising myself with what would hopefully be my class for the next year, and perhaps get some peaceful light reading done if I felt like it. Blending in was thousands of times harder too when people were already here...
Fiddling with the pleated skirt of my soft-green sundress dress, I breathed a nervous breath. Shutting my eyes tightly, my feet padded forwards until the bottom of my sandals hit the classroom floor with a thud. I clenched my fists tightly, hesitantly glancing upwards through a curtain of pink hair.
I waited for the sudden silence that would fall as everyone turned and looked at me, scrutinising my unusual eyes or hair, or maybe even my abnormal forehead. I waited for the astounded looks that spread across their faces once they realised that someone as pathetic as me existed. I waited for something I knew was going to come. I waited for something terrible.
However, the chatter continued, no-one sparing even a glance at my direction. It was like they hadn't even noticed I was there. Either that or they couldn't bother wasting their time looking at me. I was leaning towards the latter. (1)
I was left standing near the door, dumbfounded. I gaped, disbelieving, frozen. Why hadn't they reacted to my presence at all? Last year—and even in the play-groups mom often set up when I was younger, no-one simply ignored me. The other kids, unaware that their words hurt, were always quick to comment on my appearance. They teased me relentlessly, mercilessly. What made this year different?
I'd fought back at one point. Stood up for myself. I remember challenging the ignorant children to battles that I knew I was going to win at. But despite beating them over and over again, they just wouldn't stop. In fact, if anything, they continued to tease me with harsher and harsher mocking words.
It took a few months to realise there was simply no point in trying to resist. Nothing I did would stop them. Gradually, I stopped fighting back, hoping on a dim chance that they would let me go from their clutches. I hoped they would tire of my silence and submission, bored of the little competition on my part. My prayers went unanswered, dashed for they still continued harder than ever.
I only walked forwards when a few other students started to rush in. They spared several glances at me as they ran passed, critically eyeing my unusual appearance though refusing to utter a single insult. I almost sighed a breath of relief at the action, because they were doing something familiar—something I knew how to respond to. It gave me a little comfort knowing that the routine ingrained into my mind wasn't going to be broken. I ignored the tinge of pain in my stomach at the thought and quickly made my way over to the far corner of the large class.
I chose a seat beside a tanned clan-born girl with short brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes (2). Her books and pens were already spread across her portion of the long desk and in one of her hands was a small novel. If she noticed me, she didn't show it. She didn't spare me a single glance. I took out my own supplies, my own book, and started to quietly read myself.
And it was later in my life, two years later to be precise, would I stand in front of an ethereal field of flowers with mismatched tears streaming down my face and realise just how important taking that seat beside her was.
I couldn't tell how long passed by the time the teacher arrived. It was the sudden invasion of a cheery voice that snapped me out of my reading. Dark-blue locks bouncing with every step, her warm honey eyes trailed over all the students, pausing every so often on a select few—clan kids, mostly. I snapped my book shut. The girl however didn't bother to pay attention, and simply flipped to the next page of her small pink book.
After the excited chatter of the class died down to simply a murmur, the teacher finally opened her mouth and spoke loudly and clearly.
"Good morning," she began, "I'm Arashi Himiko, a retired Konoha kunoichi and the instructor for your second year in the academy."
The girl looked up.
She then followed by stating the mandatory speech all second year teachers had to say. I listened on boredly, tapping my fingers rhythmically on my knee. I took the time to study the class on my own.
Thankfully, I noted with a relieved sigh, no-one I knew from last year was here.
Several people were from clans, seeing the symbols on their jackets and t-shirts. The majority however were civilian-born, like me. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or worried by the fact, because while I'd always viewed the clan kids as much kinder (or maybe that was because they seemed more mature to me), they were far more influential and dangerous.
They'd rarely bullied me, if ever. Their parents probably warned them to not insult their clan name. What good would it bring if an important kid from a prominent clan was caught bullying what society viewed as a 'helpless' and 'young' little girl? It wouldn't give their family name a good name.
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, bowing my head to avoid stares that I was absolutely certain the class were sending me. After-all, why else would the three girls, the trio huddled together in front of me, whisper to themselves secretively? I caught the words "pink" and "green" too often in their conversation to be a coincidence. They stole critical looks at me when they thought I wasn't aware every minute or so. I played with my fingers nervously.
"—oi," the brunette girl on my left hissed. Jumping slightly, I turned my head and looked at her both in curiosity and slight fear. In a soft, equally shaky voice, I replied with a simple "yes," while wondering why she called out to me.
She sent me a glare that caused me to shrink back in my seat. Her eyes briefly flickered to my weird hair and unbelievably wide forehead—of course, I wasn't surprised—but eventually they rested on my own pair of eyes. "Weren't you listening?" She questioned, something I found slightly hypocritical. Hadn't she been the one to continue to read her book? However, I didn't voice these thoughts, mutely shaking my head.
"Not really," I answered truthfully despite wary of her intentions. "Did something happen?"
She sighed exasperated, shaking her head. "Arashi-sensei told us to take out our stuff and write a short paragraph about ourselves, you idiot." My heart clenched at the light insult but I managed to plaster on my most convincing fake smile and nodded my thanks because honestly, that was the least I could do. Why did she bother to help me in the first place?
"Thanks." I said simply, turning back around to get my supplies. I neglected to notice the strangely interested glint in her eyes and the dark pupils that studied my face thoughtfully.
The rest of the day continued peacefully; like a slow, relaxed walk. After the words of thanks slipped past my lips, the girl (with the name I hadn't caught yet) and I never spoke to each other again for the remainder of school morning. However, I found it strange that whenever we were required to partner up, she'd grab me by my arm and glare at me as though daring me to leave my seat. It brought an odd comfort in my lonely heart, but I wasn't foolish enough to believe that she actually wanted to be my friend or something. She probably couldn't have been asked to look for someone else.
The shriek of a bell announced lunch. Shuffling my papers together, lining them up by hitting them on the table, I placed the sheets in my lime-green bag and stood. I glanced around, looking for the mysterious girl but upon noticing crowds of people, I gave up, shrugged and left.
Walking beneath a beautiful Sakura tree placed conveniently away from the other students, I opened the bento box my mother prepared for me earlier that morning and snapped the chopsticks apart. As I ate the sushi and rice in small bites, my mind wandered to the words mom told me before I headed off to school.
"Everyone will love you Sakura!" She smiled, crouching down to look me in the eyes. I sniffed, shaking my head. "B—But what if they don't? What if they think I look ugly or stupid like last year?" Her smile wavered slightly, a sigh escaping her lips. She straightened, walked over and let herself fall on the bed. Her arms wrapped around my small frame and she kissed my forehead. "No-one's going to hate you sweetie," she started strongly, causing my teary eyes to turn to her. "They'll love you because you're the sweetest girl in the world. You have the most beautiful emerald eyes and exotic pink hair. Smart doesn't begin to describe you Sakura. You'll make lots of friends and become the best kunoichi in the world!" "R—Really?" "Would I lie to you Sakura? Now come on cry baby bunting, wipe those tears away and start the day with a fresh, pretty smile." My fingers ghosted over my cheeks, feeling the salty tears that streamed down my face and hurriedly wiped them off. A semi-natural smile spread across my face, confidence seeping into my posture. I nodded enthusiastically. "Of course you wouldn't lie mama," I paused, "but I'm not a cry baby bunting!"
A frown settled on my face, eyebrows furrowing together. My hands stilled, and suddenly I didn't feel hungry anymore. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and closed the box. Quickly, I tied it with a piece of cloth that I held together with using the chopsticks. I pushed it away, sighing.
My mom wasn't right about everyone liking me. I refused to believe that girl beside me cared, because why would anyone care about me? I felt foolish for believing the encouraging words from mom. Was I really that desperate for some reassurance? It was obvious she didn't believe them herself; the tips of her ears go red when she lies (5). Does even she, the person that brought me into this miserable world, think I'm a failure too?
Mom, why did you lie to me?
Bringing my knees up to my chest, my arms wrapped around my legs. I hugged them tightly.
"Oh?" My head snapped left. "And who exactly are you?"
"M—Me?" I stuttered, a wave of fear running through me. I knew something was going to go wrong. My instincts were screaming at me to escape.
"Of course," the unfamiliar girl snorted. "Are you blind, moss eyes? There's no-one else around, is there? Now tell why you're eating here. This is my group's spot. Get up and scram or you'll be sorry, cotton candy."
It was at that moment I wanted to shout. I wanted to yell and tell her I wasn't going to move. I wanted to retort and watch, satisfied, as her face shone with pained shock. I wanted to sneer back at her and scold her for being so mean. I wanted to stand up for myself and show her I wasn't as weak as looked. I wanted to do so much but—but.
I was too afraid.
"I'll leave!" Flashbacks of the other kids replaced the girl in front of me. I gathered my belongings hurriedly, head down as I tried to shuffle passed the older girl. Just when I thought I was in the clear, a hand grabbed the back of my collar and yanked me. I stumbled.
She eyed me, sneering. Her face scrunched up in disgust, eyes trailing from the tips of my hair down to the sandals on my feet. "Ugly." She said breathlessly, like she wasn't sure that my looks were even possible. I blushed in both embarrassment and slight anger, knowing with a sinking heart that the single word summarised me perfectly. "I couldn't see you clearly from the shade of the tree but woah. You're even weirder than that Uzumaki freak."
For a brief moment, I was confused. Uzumaki? I hadn't heard that name before. I didn't have time to dwell on it because a sharp tug zoned me back to reality.
The girl was obviously older than me, features more refined and posture more straight. I only came up to her shoulders; she could easy tower over me if she wanted. Curled chocolate hair cut neatly at her chin, bangs framing her petite face, she looked like what I could only hope to be. Her eyes were a simple shade of brown, and despite the malice in them they still looked breathtaking. Beautiful. It made her comment even more justifiable, because I knew without a doubt that I was nothing compared to her.
I tried to explain, stumbling over my words. "There was no-one here," I mumbled. "And I thought—"
"Because everyone in this school knows I own this area, forehead." I stared up, horrified. "You're dumber than I thought for that large head of yours. Why would anyone leave such a beautiful and secluded place unclaimed? I told you to beat it, yes, but now that I think about it..."
I would later thank the kind girl in class for the first of many times in my life. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the worst—a punch, a slap, a kick, an insult—when I heard a sharp laugh that didn't come from me nor the bully. I was startled before the familiar tone that rang around the area clicked and a torrent of relief flooded through me.
"I leave you alone for ten minutes and this is the mess you end up in." She covered her face with her palm to stifle her chuckle. Half-lidded eyes looked up amused. "Jeez pinkie. You're such a doormat." I turned away in shame, not denying the claim. She sighed, shaking her head. "And you just proved my point."
The bully raised a brow at her, tutting. "Is this your little friend, bubblegum? Now girl, scurry along. Don't want you to get hurt, do we?"
Her lazy eyes slit into a thin, deadly glare. I shivered. "That's it. I gave you three chances and you blew them all. Now I'm mad."
The older girl had the nerve to laugh maniacally like the evil character of a comic book. Strangely, it was now that my thoughts wandered to just where and more importantly who this psycho's friends were. "'I'm mad,'" she mocked. "What's chocolate here gonna do now, hm?"
Said girl glanced around quickly and smirked. "You're gonna regret saying that." She threatened. She then gave her a closed eyed smile. "You're gonna get this." I don't know what I thought was going to happen, maybe the insult I was too scared to say or a punch that taught her a lesson, but I certainly didn't expect the words that came out her mouth next.
"SENSEI! THIS GIRL THREW A SHARP POINTY STAR THING AT ME!"
...
...
...
I think the dumbfounded expressions on both me and the bully said it all.
I sat there blushing, fiddling with my hands nervously.
Himiko-sensei had called the three of us aside, the kind girl smiling victoriously at the glowering bully. She lectured us briefly on something I couldn't remember, perhaps getting in trouble on the first day, then scolded the bully for using a shuriken on us. Of course, Tsubasa Mai tried to protest, but our teacher obviously had her mind set and sent her out with a harsh "get out". Apparently she was in her fourth year and had a reputation for bullying younger students.
For some reason I felt like sensei knew we were lying about the shuriken; her eyes were calculative and, if I wasn't wrong, slightly impressed. I wouldn't put it passed her because I knew she was a former kunoichi and could probably tell me more about me than I knew myself.
Through her I learned what the other girl's name was. Chihiro Riko. It suited her, and fell off my tongue smoothly. She learned my name too, though I secretly wished we'd told them to each other rather than have learned them through a teacher.
When Himiko-sensei asked why Riko bothered to help me (she also knew we didn't know the other existed until today and was genuinely curious), she simply replied with "she's my friend." I went stock still, rendered frozen in shock. She couldn't want me to be her friend right? Me? The same girl that had abnormal pink hair and weird green eyes? The same one that would prefer reading a dictionary than go out?
I was pathetic. I was nothing. I didn't deserve a friend, no matter how much I desperately wanted one. Some things weren't meant for people, and a companion was one of them for me.
Her statement brought me to my current predicament.
It was the last lesson on the day, and I didn't know how to react around Riko at all. I still avoided anyone's eye, fiddling with my fingers whenever I had the chance and I did nothing about the occasional comment on my appearance (all negative, of course). I spent most of time nervously glancing at her from the corner of my eyes.
If I was being entirely honest, the lesson was the last thing on my mind. Despite being the first day for my second year, the teacher's voice was more a drone than the exciting and interesting one she was aiming for. Whatever she said, be it important or not, blended in with the quiet chatter of the class. No-one really bothered paying attention to anyone on the first few days. Nothing was too important since the teachers were considerate enough to understand it was best to start slow than to suddenly shower all the work on us. I was eternally grateful.
The school had a simple yet effective system. From years one to three, all students were taught some of the absolute necessities for survival: to read and write, maths, history, a few practical lessons that involved basic survival tricks and simple science. Nothing physical or ninja-like. The reason being for it was not uncommon for students to decide that they'd prefer to remain a civilian instead. Often due to stress or a miserable realisation, over sixty percent end up dropping out. Amongst those sixty, forty-five percent was usually made up of civilian-born kids.
After the third year, the students that decided to remain would remain in the academy until they graduated. Instead of reading and writing, this was the year weapons and shinobi training came into play. Of course, the first year of 'official shinobi training' would start off slow, but depending on the intelligence and physical capabilities of the year, the teaching may progress faster or slower.
I completed some simple Maths equations in my small blue textbook. They weren't that hard considering we were only in second year but it still required me to put my full attention towards.
9) (3^2)3 = [ 27 ]
3^2 = 3*3 = 9
9*3 = (3^2)3 = 27
10) turn this number into standard form : [ ]
35673000000 (4)
My eyebrows shot up high. That was a question for academy graduates—at least! Did they want to test the limits of the class, or were they messing with us? I prided myself in being intelligent, one of the few things I could freely say without regret, but this question was outrageous for us. I could work it out of course but it wasn't by any means easy.
I snuck a side-ward glance to my desk-mate. Riko was face down, hunched over the desk with her hands frantically writing something. I resisted the urge to giggle; she seemed slightly crazy. I peered over curiously.
... I won't admit I almost fell off the chair.
She had the exact same paper as me, and she'd already blown past the questions. Her answers were similar to mine, yet the working was done in a more compact and easier to understand way. For a moment, I sat there stunned. Is she smarter than me? A surge of jealousy and anger shot through me.
I grit my teeth harshly, snapping my head back to my own paper. Abruptly picking up my pen, I started to scribble the answers down quickly. I didn't see the frustrated yet oddly pleased glare she sent me.
Minutes flew passed like seconds, and soon we were both rushing up the front, simultaneously shouting "finished!" The teacher looked up and blinked, staring at our frazzled appearances like we just admitted we were rocks in disguise, and slowly took the sheets. She told us to do whatever we wanted for the remaining ten minutes before returning to the papers on her desk. I flushed under the weirded-out and judging stares of the class once I realised my behaviour and timidly walked back to my seat. Riko looked at me and snorted.
Falling unceremoniously into my chair, I leaned forward and buried my face within the nest I called my arms. Then, I remembered something I forget (and was too shy) to say earlier. I turned my head to look at Riko and murmured two barely audible words.
"Thank you."
She nodded but didn't say anything back.
It was the start of a beautiful friendship...
... with a horrible and tragic end.
Tears streamed down my pale face as I gently pushed myself back and forth on the small, chain swing. I clutched the metal tightly in my hands, sobbing.
"You told me they'd love me," I cried quietly. "You told me they'd adore me, smile at me, laugh with me. You lied mommy."
They hated me, teased me, bullied me. They made me realise what a horrible person I am. That my bright pink hair, something I used to cherish and love, was nothing to be proud of. That my emerald green eyes, my favourite colour, were the most ugliest things the world had ever seen. That my personality was terrible and annoying, worthless.
It hurts mom. It hurts so, so much.
My classmates would do anything to make me feel like I was worth not even the scum under a dirty shoe. They wanted to let me know my place—that I was and would forever be inferior to them. They picked on my looks the most, taking advantage of the fact that I was to scared to say anything back.
I didn't want to burden anyone more than I had to, so I kept quiet and said nothing to Riko, my mom or the teachers. They didn't need to worry about me when all that I heard was the truth. I doubt they'd care anyway.
Sometimes, I thought that the other kids were just jealous of me. My appearance. My intelligence. My personality. Riko was always quick to comment on them, telling me time and time again that they were "unique but not in a bad way". I tried to believe her, to believe mom too, but however much I wanted to, I couldn't.
Nothing about me was worth it.
I didn't have many friends. Riko was the only one I could say I was close to. I don't know why she bothered with me, but either way I was eternally grateful. We hung out a lot, though not as much as I would've liked because she had her own group of friends she kept in touch with too. And that's dismissing the fact we've both moved classes. Because of that, she didn't know anything about the bullying and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as I could.
It wasn't in her nature to pry into people's business, so I knew she wouldn't deliberately ask anything about it unless she thought it was serious. She almost spotted me one time; I was being pushed up against the wall by an older student (Tsubasa's younger sister), but luckily she mistook me for another girl that recently dyed her hair a soft red and ignored me. The relief I felt at that single moment was unreal.
A sweet girl, Hyuuga Hinata, was the last, if you counted her as one. We talked, laughed, and spent a fair amount of time together, though I don't think she thought of me as a friend, rather someone to pass the time with. She doesn't stand up for me, help me, and because of that I have a secret—though small—loathing of her.
It's sickening, and it saddened me even more when I realised I'd been thinking like that to not only the girl who was kind enough to go against what the class thought and see me for who I am but also my dear friend. I'm such a hypocrite.
I really am a terrible person...
I sniffed pathetically, my hand reaching up to wipe away my tears. Luckily, Tsubasa and her little crew weren't in today; they were off on an outside school trip. Her sister wasn't in either, nor was Ami—Tsubasa's closest friend and my main bully. The purple-haired girl was in my classes for some reason or another. She instantly picked me out from the other students, which didn't really surprise me because I stuck out like a sore thumb but I hated it nonetheless. Ever since, she's taken it upon herself to make my life a living hell.
My eyes, blurry, swept across the academy's first and second years playground.
A small group of unfamiliar girls were huddled in one corner, forming a tight circle while shouting something that sounded like "Sasuke-kun!" My lips pursed inwards, wondering just why on earth they were so obsessed with a kid that wanted nothing to do with them.
Uchiha Sasuke was in all my classes, top scorer on almost every test and 'the shinobi of the year'. He wasn't what you would call a 'good friend' though. He used to be more outgoing, albeit still aloof and cold. He was a much more approachable person before the Uchiha Clan was massacred. Now, he'll ignore anyone and everyone that even attempted to talk to him, sending glares to no-one in particular as dark looks flashed across his small and pale face. It was sad to watch him slowly be consumed by darkness and unable to do anything.
He had girls flocked around him almost twenty-four seven; I genuinely felt sorry for him. He was obviously grieving, give the poor boy some respect and space.
Of course, despite not approving of the behaviour of my classmates, I didn't fail to notice that he was... that he was... cute. Really cute, actually. With mysterious onyx-black eyes and smooth, ivory skin, he was the picture definition of beautiful. His wild hair was spiked in every direction yet tamed and impeccably neat. Side-bangs hung over his face, casting a menacing but strangely alluring shadow across his face. He'd obviously gotten most of his looks from his mother, who I'd seen around town every so often before she... Sasuke's dark aura resembled his father's on the other hand, reminding me that of a wolf. Protective with the few they trusted (which, in his case, was sadly no-one) and threatening to everyone else.
He was perfect.
And I wasn't blind.
I knew his character, tormented as it was, could only be described as handsome, alluring. Or at least as handsome and alluring as an eight year old could get.
I'd once craved for his attention, silently and secretly hoping he would spare a single glance at the pitiful being that was me. However, as the days passed and he didn't seem to know that I was even there, I slowly lost hope. What shattered it completely, however, were the oh so hurtful words that came out from Ami and Tsubasa.
"He'll never notice you." "You're not good enough." "Nobody in their right mind would love someone as hideous as you."
I flinched at the memory, absentmindedly rubbing my arm. It wasn't anything life-threatening or scarring, but when they slapped me I figured it might as well have. The words, the pain, the insults. They stung. It felt worse than a thousand insects eating away at me, tearing me like I was fresh meat. They didn't realise how badly I wanted to both scream at them for making me feel so miserable and thank them profusely for telling me the truth. They helped me understand that Sasuke would never look at me like a friend, saving me the effort of chasing after someone so far ahead of me I shouldn't bother.
But did they have to word it so... cruelly?
I wasn't too upset that Sasuke didn't notice me, I forced myself to believe, considering he never noticed anyone else positively either. Someone as fast, strong and cute as him would never bother with someone as slow, weak and ugly as me. I tried to ignore the way my throat clogged up and my heart beat painfully at the thought.
But, I still wondered traitorously, could he have been the precious friend I was longing for? Not like Riko, who was more like a sister to me than anything, and Hinata, who was someone I hung out with sometimes, but the friend I relied on and cherished? Could he have saved me from this endless cycle of despair?
"Demon! Demon!"
My attention was drawn to the opposite direction. Young and tanned, there was a small boy huddled near the corner of a maple tree. I tilted my head curiously, sadness slowly evaporating into confusion. Cerulean blue eyes, a beautiful sky colour, were strangely clouded with an all too familiar emotion. His hair spiked from left to right and front to back casting a dark shadow over his eyes. His whiskered cheeks gave him a cute and innocent look, reminding me of a small kitten. He looked like someone I couldn't place my finger on.
I've never spoken to him, mainly because my mom warned me to stay away from him. She always threw weary glances at him whenever we walked to school together. Her hand clutched mine tightly, pulling me closer to her. When I asked why, she always shook her head and said it was dangerous for both of us if I tried to talk to him.
I didn't want someone to feel as sad as I felt. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be fine, even if we both knew it was not. I felt sorry for him, but I knew that even he, the one everyone seemed to avoid, wouldn't want help from me, Haruno Sakura.
Ripping my eyes away from him, I sighed and slowly stood.
Haruno Sakura, that's who I was. A disgrace to my family name.
A single tear fell down my cheek.
"Sakura!" Riko's voice shouted from behind me. Quickly, I wiped the tear and breathed. I turned and gave her a small but genuine smile. She stared at me, scrutinising me. I didn't notice the way she narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and clenched her fists tightly. A murderous look flashed across her eyes. After a while, she broke the eye-contact and smiled. "Let's go to our lessons, shall we? We have kunoichi classes together today."
I nodded, giving a fake over-enthusiastic "yeah!"
It doesn't matter if I'm forcing it.
It doesn't matter if I'm internally crying.
It doesn't matter if I'm jealous of them.
It just doesn't matter.
Because as long as they're happy, Riko, mum, dad and Hinata, I would endure this pain and more.
I hope you enjoyed the first installment of the Blossoming Flower rewrite! I'm much more confident in this story than the one I posted months back, mainly because I've planned the story more thoroughly and have researched a little more to make the story more accurate. (1) I'm just trying to show a more realistic view on how the class see her (I doubt an entire class would notice and silence because a girl that looked different entered the room). Most importantly, I want to showcase the mentality she has before the bullying gets worse. She's just extremely paranoid now. (2) (3) (4) Next chapter's dedicated to whoever can solve this. I'll let you decide on another (reasonable) pairing (including or excluding Sakura) that I swear I'll consider. (5) I genuinely believe that even if a mother loves her child like they're the best thing in the world, she can never say that her child will never get bullied or picked in. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. See you in the next chapter!
PUBLISHED / EDITED: 29.09.16 / nope
CURRENT UPDATE SCHEDULE: once every 9-10 weeks
WORD COUNT / AVERAGE WORD COUNT: 5881 (17.1 pages) / 4500 (13.5 pages)
RATING / WARNINGS: teens and up / bullying, self-shaming, body negative