.2.
Sarada sat heavily on the end of the upturned sofa, as she looked at the photo of her father and a mysterious red haired woman. Why did her father have a picture of this woman, but no picture together with her mother? Frustration and disappointment welled in her chest.
"I hate you." She mumbled at the man under her breath, while a lone tear escaped down her cheek.
Her parents were legends. People told her stories of the Great Fourth Shinobi World War, and their Godlike powers. Sakura Haruno, the woman who had surpassed the Fifth Hokage in strength and medical ability and Sasuke Uchiha who held the power of life and death with his Sharingan and Rinnegan.
Compared to them, Sarada was a disgrace.
Her mother had a fierce strength that could demolish a large town. Sarada often witnessed it when she got angry with her. She wanted them to be as far away from others as possible when they trained, so every evening she and Sakura would go out past the training fields and into the forest. There Sarada would warm up with genjutsu practice, and then learn a new ninjutsu. She was booksmart and memorizing came easily, but this wasn't where she had trouble.
After a short break, they would move on to taijutsu. Sakura would go through a series of punches and kicks with her, and then end the practice with some pushups and a jog. That was the practice in theory. Sarada was quick to learn that after the shortest of exercises her breathing would weaken and her body would tremble. If she tried to push herself just a little harder, everything would go black.
Sarada had trust in her mother. She was a doctor after all, and she ran most of the hospital. So when she said that the fainting spells were nothing harmful and that they were going to be a part of her life, Sarada couldn't help but feel depressed. She was already half blind.
The Mighty and Honorable Uchihas. She thought with bitter resentment. There is no way I am the daughter of such legends.
Again her eyes drifted to the women with red hair. It seemed much more likely that an average woman had given birth to such an embarrassment.
When she decided she had wallowed in enough self-pity, she got up and gathered the rest of their precious things. The photo went back into the frame, where it had been before. All of their memories fit in a single duffle bag, and she let out a heavy sigh. The rest she could come back for later. She wiped her sleeve across her cheeks one more time and made her way out to the street.
She heard an ugly crunch and looked down. She stepped on what must have been the front door. The dusty red and white Uchiha symbol had a deep and jagged crack down the middle. Dark satisfaction came when she realized that's how it should always look. Broken, just like her family.
Where would she stay tonight? Her mother never asked for help, not from anyone. Sarada didn't think she wanted to go around bothering people either. Regret blossomed pink on her cheeks.
She had been too harsh with her mother. She hadn't meant to make her angry or sick. She just wanted answers.
She rounded the corner and bumped into a standard issue green flak-jacket. Looking up she recognized the mask and the unruly silver hair.
"Hey kiddo."
"Oji-san, I think I made a mistake." She mumbled and she buried her face into his side.
He bent down and looked her in the eyes. They were red and swollen from crying. He ruffled her hair and his eyes creased. A slight shadow of a smile could be seen beneath his mask.
"We all make mistakes" He said, rocking back on his heels. "Sara-chan, why don't you come spend the afternoon with your old feeble uncle? I could use someone to carry my groceries and walk me across the street."
The corners of her mouth turned up, fighting laughter.
"Can we get ice-cream?"