Well, Its a short chapter but its important in a few aspects. It introduces Sakura's parents, who we know next to nothing about from the official manga. Thus, I'm kind of nervous about writing them because I've encountered people who don't like it when you add too much to the canon.
Sakura's father is meant to appear laid back and introverted. Someone who doesn't say much, while the mother is quite the opposite. I haven't even named them yet beyond Mom, and Dad. I will name them eventually, through conversation - but I didn't do it yet because I wasn't certain it would occur to Sakura to write it in her personal journal. We'll find out more about them in the training journal. (Although, both of Sakura's journals are very detailed aren't they! lol)
The next chapter is much longer. I just had to divide things up this way or they wouldn't make sense.
"The attack has left five hundred and seven buildings in Konoha destroyed, seventy two injuries, and has taken from us twenty one of our brightest and best ninja, including the Hokage himself. This event will never be forgotten, and we will honor the sacrifice of the fallen. Still, as my first act returning to the title of Hokage, I decree it forbidden to mention, discuss, or hint at the fate befallen the boy chosen to imprison this beast. Let the pain of loss and thoughts of retribution or hate fade into history."
- Saratobi, in his acceptance speech to the council's emergency request that he resume the title of Hokage
From the Personal Diary of Haruno Sakura 28 March 112th Year of the Leaf
I've kept diaries since I was eight years old. It was another little habit I picked up from Ino. When she asked me way back then if I kept one, I smiled and told her, "Of course! Doesn't everybody?" I immediately went home and asked my mother to get me one. Now writing is an old habit. Still, I don't think I've ever really tried to describe my parents in any of the three that I have filled so far. I don't think any of my ninja comrades have ever even met my parents either. They may have seen them at our graduation from the academy, and I'm sure some of our teachers know them well, but they are quiet people and tend to keep to themselves.
They raised me well, and as their only daughter I was showered with lots of love. I'm still very much a daddy's girl. He used to tell me stories and give me piggy-back rides every night before I went to bed, and I think he still would if I let him. The love that they gave me makes my heart ache for both Naruto and Sasuke. Their childhoods have both been so harsh, and I don't know if I'll ever fully understand what either of them went through. They are both the same.
However, I've learned its not my place to ask. Damn it! I'm in tears again as I write this, but – that's why I know that if I am to protect them, if I am to SAVE them, I have to save their friendship – No matter the cost. I know I'll find a way, somehow.
Unfortunately, parents that love so much sometimes can't stand to see their little girl grow up. The result is that lately, our relationship has been difficult. Even on a day like today, my birthday, my parents can't help but bring up their issues.
I suppose it didn't help that I arrived late for my birthday dinner because of training, but I would have thought they would understand my priorities by now. On my last birthday I wasn't even home at all. I was out on a mission. In fact, it was that mission that we finally found Sasuke again after three years. My birthday was the last thing on my mind back then, but this year I wanted to make it up to them.
My father was a ninja in the Third Great Ninja War. He's since retired at the request of my mother, who was a teacher, but not for the ninja arts. She teaches the basics; reading, writing and arithmetic. Sometimes ninja found her courses the toughest of all. She took a few years off after I was born, but has since returned to the academy. Since retiring, my father has become a leading figure in Konoha's construction company, and was widely recognized for the quick repairs after Ochimaru's attack a few years ago.
My father has platinum blond hair and brown eyes. He has a lean muscular build but towers over my tiny mother. I get my green eyes from her, but her hair is a plain brown, so my hair color is a mystery even in my family. Both of them insist the trait lies somewhere in their family, but I like to think I'm as rare as a perfect sakura blossom, like my father used to tell me when I was little.
When I arrived at the house I grew up in, which is a few blocks from the small apartment I live in now, my mother was already doing the dishes. Dad had settled into his favorite easychair and was watching some detective drama on television. I let myself in, as they insist that I do whenever I wish to visit, and they finally noticed me when I made a deliberate sigh and apologized deeply for being late.
There was a cake with unlit candles on our low, cherry-wood table, and a few presents. From the looks of things my parents had already gone ahead and eaten. My mother was already cleaning up, but their was a portion set aside on the table for me. She had made my favorite meal, Shashimi. I really did feel horrible about being late, but my mother made me feel worse.
"Sakura!" she yelped. "What happened? You're all beat up! What have you been doing to yourself? Is this really what you enjoy doing more than celebrating your birthday with own parents?"
"Mo-mom, please, this is nothing."
"Nothing! Look at you, your clothes are in shreds!"
"Mom, its alright, really. I'll just go get changed and then I'll come right back downstairs. Its still early, and the food looks delicious."
My father came over to hug me. He gave me a worried look but said nothing. As I turned to go upstairs and change, my mother couldn't resist her old rant. With my back turned to her, I proved to myself that I could mouth the speech word for word as she spoke it.
"When are you going to give up this Ninja-nonsense Sakura? Its not fitting for a young lady to have to put her life on the line like this. You've served long enough, its time to start thinking about settling down. First you cut your beautiful hair and then you developed that terrifying strength. What man is going to be attracted to all that?"
I turned and looked at my mother. If I didn't stop this soon she cold go on like this for who knows how long. I started out softly, but I let my voice raise in volume until I was nearly yelling. I just couldn't seem to help it.
"Mom, Dad, I got promoted to Special Jonin today. That's why the training was . . .extra hard this afternoon. So stop asking me to give it up and stop telling me its nonsense!"
My mom caught her breath in mid-sentence. She turned pale, and then grey. Her eyes grew misty, and then she looked away. I felt a small pang of guilt, but her rants made me so frustrated sometimes. I needed to remind her how serious being a kunoichi is to me. My dad looked at me with a mixture of pride and thoughtfulness.
"Now Sakura," he said in his scratchy tenor of a voice. "You know your mother is just worried about you. Especially when you seem to come back from every mission with new scars. There were even rumors that you were killed on one mission to the Hidden Village of the Sand."
I nodded sheepishly. "I know. I just . . . this is my dream. And besides, its not like I haven't got a boyfriend."
This made my mother perk up and my father gape in surprise.
"What!" my mother cooed. "You finally gave up on chasing that Uchiha boy around? Who is he? Have I met him? Is he handsome? Well?"
In horror I realized my error. I tried to change the subject.
"Uh . . .let me go get changed." I said with real embarrassment and flushed cheeks. "Then I'll come back down and tell you all about him."
I could hear my mom chattering excitedly all the way up to my old room. My mother had left it in th same condition it had been in since before I moved out. It was still very pink and veryfluffy, with all thirty two stuffed animals piled onto the bed. She even kept several changes of my street cloths handy. I picked an old favorite faded red t-shirt with a white circle on the back and a knee length black denim skirt. Once back downstairs, I managed to eat a reheated dinner, blow out seventeen candles, and open some cute presents without incident. It was almost pleasant, but I knew the questions would be coming. No way my mother would let something like the subject of a new boyfriend drop so easily.
"So," she said teasingly, ambushing me while I still had a mouthful of cake. "Who is the lucky guy, hmmm? How long has this been going on? I'll bet he works at the hospital, am I right? You were spending a lot of time there last fall." My mother's eyes got really big and sparkly. I thought she was going to get up and dance. The room suddenly felt very hot.
"Oooh! I bet he's a doctor! Come on Sakura, you can't hide it from me."
I looked at my father, who was sulking and pretending not to be interested. Yet I could tell he wanted to know too. He was the one I was really worried about. I'm still cursing my thoughtlessness, but I suppose I would have had to deal with this sooner or later. I sighed. Very softly, I mumbled . . .
"Naruto Uzumaki."
"What?" my father asked darkly. My mother gasped and covered her moth with the tips of her fingers. She glanced worriedly at her husband.
"Its Naruto Uzumaki." I said more loudly, but I knew my voice was quavering.
"Absolutely not!" my father said sternly. His fist came down on the table, declaring his judgement like a gavel. "I forbid it!"
With that, he stormed away from the table.
I gripped the hem of my skirt as I sat cross legged at the table, and fought back tears. It had gone about as well as expected. My father doesn't hate Naruto. He doesn't even really fear of him either, like so many in the village. If anything, he pities Naruto.
Its all about principal for my father. His sister, like so many others, was killed in the Kyubi's assault, just a few months after I was born. My father was a big supporter of the Third's law that no adult should talk about or mention what was sealed inside Naruto. In other words, my father desires nothing more than to forget about the past completely, and move on. Although my father does not blame Naruto, he is a constant reminder of a past event he has vowed to forget. It really bothered dad that I was on the same team as him, but somehow he got past it. I'm not sure, but I think it had something to do with Kakashi-sensei.
My mother got up from the table walked over to me as I still struggled with my tears. She gave my shoulders a sympathetic squeeze and said, "It'll be alright, dear." Then, she retreated quietly from the room.
The tears began to flow, and I tasted salt on my lips. It wasn't as if my father was going to keep Naruto and I apart. I just miss him so much. Right then, I needed him more than anything. I needed to feel his warm embrace again, needed to look into those deep blue eyes and see that ear to ear grin. I needed to feel his touch, wanted so desperately to repeat the passion of that night before he left, and lay next to him shamelessly, letting his heartbeat sing me to sleep.
Instead, as I prepare to go to sleep tonight, I feel lonelier than I ever have in my whole life.
