Author: katseng

Title: Rotting Roses

Rating: T for upcoming themes. May go higher later.

Characters: Sakura and co.

Summary: There was a reason why she entered the Academy, why she scored so highly, why she was always so weak. There was a reason why she fought.

Warning: Might diverge a bit from canon.

Author's Notes: Feedback is really nice.

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Rotting Roses

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Chapter One

"I wish to enroll in the Academy."

The secretary paused in her work and looked up, bemused, at the slip of a girl with a ramrod straight back and ridiculous hair that stood before her.

"And why is that, Miss…"

"Haruno. Haruno Sakura. Does there have to be a reason?"

The secretary set down her pen and leaned forward. She examined the girl further. At first glance, she was the archetype of a neat, orderly and completely ordinary civilian girl (barring the hair, of course). But after having been exposed to more shinobi facades for more decades than this girl had probably seen years, the secretary gathered that what the girl seemed to be belied the idea that she was just a bit more than her immediate label of ordinary.

Otherwise, of course, this atypical chit of a girl would never be here in the first place. Otherwise, she would not have been standing in front of the desk, staring at her with such a serious, cold, steady gaze, one more suited to a shinobi that had seen too much than a little girl who was asking to see too much.

"No. No, I think that, for now, at least, you can keep your reasons to yourself." She almost smiled at she saw the girl's shoulders relax minutely as the tension oozed out.

"How old are you?" Immediately, she saw the girl's defenses go back up and leisurely continued, "For enrollment purposes, of course." The girl looked at the ground, the first time she broke eye contact with the secretary, and looked back up, seemingly having come to a decision.

"Eight. I'm eight."

The secretary sighed. "Well, I'm sorry, Haruno-san, but there seems to be a problem. We only admit students that are at least nine years old." At this, the girl scowled fiercely at the ground. "Maybe I can talk to your parents and work something out?" Her eyes snapped back up, an indefinable motion clouding the clear green that disappeared as soon as it appeared.

"My parents are… currently unavailable. And I forgot to mention – I'll be turning nine this week. May I please have the paperwork?"

The woman who was really too old for this sighed again. "Would you like to know what you're signing up for first?"

After grabbing a stray passing chunnin and severely instructing him to stay and watch the desk, and be useful for once, the secretary and the pink-haired girl walked through the halls of the Hidden Village of Leaf's famous (or somewhat infamous) Shinobi Academy, eminent for its history of producing some of the most formidably elite soldiers in the world.

"These are the classrooms in which, if you enroll, you will spend the next three years of your life slaving to gather knowledge and understand information that might one day save your life." She paused and looked back at the girl trailing her. "It will not be easy. It will not be fun. Do not take these lessons lightly."

Continuing down the winding hallways, she came to the training grounds and looked back just quickly enough to see the girl's eyes widen with excitement and her lips curl in a smirk before her features settled back to a carefully neutral expression as she stood at attention. "This is where you will train in the basics. You will need a strong body and a stronger mind if you so wish to continue your enrollment here. A good balance between training your mind and body is often key to success. You should not neglect one for the other if you wish to survive more than your first real mission.

"This is not a happy career, full of glory and adventure," she continued softly as they walked along the silent rows of practice equipment. "This is not a game. You will not be here to play ninja. You are signing up to serve your country, yes, but there is more than that. You are signing up for bruises and scars that never go away, for blood and death and tears and nightmares. You are signing up for a battle against your country's enemies and, moreover, against yourself." She turned toward her young companion.

"Do you understand that?"

Dull green eyes looked just past her earlobe. "Yes."

She didn't understand, not yet. But she would soon enough.

A/N: This is a story that I started a while ago that I work on sporadically. Updates will likely take a long time. : ( I know what I want to happen but it's not coming out correctly. Which sounds like I have constipation.;_; I've started chapter two, though.

I'd love to know what you think of it so far.