Porcelain Heart
an itasaku fanfic
DISCLAIMER:
This story is purely a work of fan fiction. All Naruto rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto and other names, character, places, and events are merely a product of the writer's imagination or otherwise altered to fit the story. It is neither historically accurate nor ascribed to the original story canon.
PROLOGUE
disillusioned
A slow, mildly cold wind whistled by. It flowed past her shoulders, coaxing her short, silky tresses to dance along. And her eyes close, the corner of her lips tilt up softly as she breathes in deep, letting her thoughts drift away with the breeze.
Little Sakura glanced up at her okaa-san, wondering where they were heading. She didn't recognise this road. It seemed similar to the other roads she frequently travelled through with her family, but since most roads in Konohagakure looked alike, she couldn't be too sure.
The path was broad, uneven with a lot of pebbles and rocks that made it difficult for her to keep balance on her geta. The shops lining the streets were few and far between, but still, it was strangely crowded.
Letting her curious eyes wander, she noticed a lot of children who appeared to be around her age. Their contagious laughter and lively chatter readily echoed through the streets. There were also a lot of men wearing that headband with the funny swirl.
Her otou-san had one too.
When she had asked otou-san about it, he called it a forehead protector. He told her it indicated their status as a shinobi; the leaf-shaped swirl symbolised their loyalty and pride as citizens of Konohagakure. He told her shinobi were protectors of the village with neat, magical techniques like disappearing and talking to giant animals so they can work together to fight off evil shinobi.
She wanted to learn magic too. She wanted to protect her village like her otou-san did, to go on missions as well as visit other villages. She wanted to see if the other villages were as beautiful as her otou-san had described them to be.
Lost in her daydreams, Sakura almost tripped when a blonde haired boy suddenly ran past her, cheekily taunting the man on his tail with profanities that were unfitting for a child his age. If she had not clasped onto the fabric of her okaa-san's kimono in a panic, she was sure she would have had a face full of dirt. She wanted to press the boy to apologise, but when she looked ahead, neither he nor the man after him was in sight.
She huffed; there was no point now.
Straightening her kimono, she continued the perusal of her surroundings. Her brows drew together, and her lips pinched when she came to a realisation: they were heading the same way. Every child, every adult was heading the same direction her okaa-san was going.
What was going on?
Was there some village festival she forgot about?
"Sakura-chan, what's running through your pretty little mind?" her okaa-san's voice was soft and soothing compared to the raucous buzz around her.
The corner of her lips quirked. She loves it when okaa-san calls her mind pretty. It makes her feel special.
And smart.
Little Sakura fancies herself as a smart girl.
"Where are we going?" Sakura asked, locking gazes with the pair of Viridian she inherited. Otou-san had always emphasised how much he loved how both her mother and she have eyes like precious gems. At one glance, it reminded him of how precious they were to him.
"To the Academy."
Just as she was about to question her mother further, she caught sight of a white circular building and its orange circular roof. The vast crowd swarming in front of it struck a chord in her, making her stomach roll and her heart thrum faster. Feeling overwhelmed, she stepped closer to the comfort of her okaa-san.
"Okaa-san, why are we here?"
Her okaa-san did not answer, steadily leading her through the crowd towards a group of young girls. The closer they got, the more she couldn't help but notice how these little girls, like her, were dressed in lavish kimonos, their hair upheld and decorated with ornaments studded with colourful stones. They were huddled closely, seemingly far calmer than the rowdy bunch of boys gathered at the other end of the open space, by the swing.
Little Sakura knew better.
Those girls were far more excited than they pretended.
"You are five years old now, Sakura-chan," her okaa-san's voice cut through her musings. She tilted her head in confusion, numerous questions burning the tip of her tongue. Before she could voice them, however, her okaa-san continued. "Which means you are old enough to start learning the proper technique and process of flower arrangements, tea preparations, clothing yourself—things you need to be proficient at to be a good wife."
She soaked in her mother's words, trying to decipher why it felt a little more than disconcerting. Didn't her okaa-san start teaching her all those already? Maybe this ah-cah-deh-mee teaches it better. Perhaps they could be teaching more, like those illusion techniques her otou-san had demonstrated once!
Hope bubbling through her chest, she inquired, "Will I learn how to be a shinobi?"
Her okaa-san smiled, but it was wane, and the corners of her eyes did not crinkle. She waited patiently as her okaa-san stopped in front of a lady she never met before. She watched as okaa-san bowed, greeted and initiated conversation with her.
Seconds… minutes passed as little Sakura glanced back and forth between her okaa-san and the lady, but when her okaa-san showed no signs of responding, disappointment immediately blanketed her.
Somehow, the lack of an answer was an answer in itself.
What is she here to learn that she couldn't learn from home? Are the boys going to learn the same lessons she would?
She leaned backwards, glancing over her shoulder, directing her gaze to examine the all-male group at the other end of the yard. It was funny how their choice of attire was lacklustre, consisting of a simple pair of pants and a shirt embellished only by a clan insignia, if at all. Their abrasive, crass behaviour was disregarded by the adults around them as if it was normal—as if it was expected.
Unfair!
Didn't okaa-san say it was rude to misbehave in public?
Her inquisitiveness had her darting her attention from one boy to another until she realised they all carried four-pointed stars and triangular knives similar to those her otou-san kept in a pouch strapped to his hip. Theirs were wooden, though, and some of the boys were swinging the weapons around carelessly. Unfamiliarly.
Although they could probably afford to learn how to dress appropriately, she doubts they were here to learn mundane tasks such as flower arrangements and tea preparations.
"Sakura-chan," Okaa-san placed a gentle hand on the top of her head, drawing the entirety of little Sakura's attention, "This is Suzume-sensei. She'll be in charge of all your classes."
"It's nice to meet you, Sakura-chan." Sakura glanced up at Suzume-sensei. The lady had dark, curly hair with lips that were thin and painted red. She wore glasses that were so foggy, little Sakura could not see her eyes. Her back was straight, her arms hidden beneath the sleeves of her kimono and folded in front of her. "I'm going to teach you how to be a proper lady."
.
.
.
It was the first time little Sakura grasped the significant gap between the status of men and women.
It was the first time little Sakura understood, just a little, that she won't ever learn to be a shinobi.
It was the first time little Sakura was disillusioned.