Hey guys, I know you don't like to review .-. But I need a little help here, or I won't be able to write the next chapter. Do you want me to add in Konoha's ninja, like Ino, Naruto, and ect, as well or just the Suna ninja, and made up characters? A little help would be great. And I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY want to thank soccercrazyfreak and missladylaura for your reviews. Missladylaura's review made me laugh so hard i couldn't breathe. ahaha. They really inspire me to keep on writing. Thank you so so so much for your support. You guys can make a request for a story anytime. Once this story is somewhat done. Hehehe. So guys don't forget review about which characters should be in the school with Sakura.
Disclaimer: Cause you guys know Naruto would be waaaay better if I made it :P jaykay.
That night my grandmother and I ate dinner in complete silence. I sat way down on one side of the table, as she sat on the other. We ate our chicken, occasional looking at each other, but not bothering to say a word. I didn't mind the quiet, no I had never been the talkative type my whole life. Maybe because I didn't really have anyone to talk to. My teachers where always teaching me my study's, and didn't allow me to interrupt, or they had me practicing my reflex's and competing against other masters of the martial arts, to test my abilities. I never really had the chance to talk. Just learn, and answer questions, and meditate. No it wasn't the silence that made me uneasy at all. It was the reason behind the thick silence, that made my thoughts hard to ignore. We were quite because we both missed my mom.
I wasn't sure who missed her more, my grandmother who hasn't seen her in years, or me who's known her my whole life, and is just now losing her. I guess in all honesty we were pretty even. I scooped up some carets and put them in my mouth, chewing thoroughly and swallowing, gently grasping my glass of grape soda, and taking a sip, putting it down. I sighed pushing my plate away quite satisfied. But obviously my grandmother wasn't.
"Sakura Haruno! Look at how skinny you are! You barely touched your food! You need it!"
At this I sighed, staring at her with a dull look, ready to get up and walk away. But I knew that was the wrong thing to do when she was allowing me to live here with her, when she didn't have to.
"Grandma, listen my father was the one who taught me to live off of basically nothing. He told me to keep myself in that practice, so if anything bad ever happened, I wouldn't be in an even worse situation. With the food I just ate, I could last for almost two weeks, until I needed something else to sustain me even longer. My body is used to it. My body is accustomed to surviving with little food, and little water. I could use the little carbohydrates in the food I just ate, and run for hundreds of miles, without running out of energy, and without so much as breaking a sweat. It's just the way I was raised to survive. There's no changing that now."
My grandmother looked at me, with a face of disbelief. I don't think she believed a word I had just said. Hadn't I just told her in the garden? I sighed.
"Let me start from the beginning Gran." she nodded, and I felt the lump grow in my throat as I knew I'd be talking about all the things I would have rather kept to myself. Images I'd wanted to lock away and never relive, but it seemed I didn't have a choice here.
"It all started when I was about three. I don't remember exactly, but my mother had told me this story. It was one of my favorites, I guess you could call me cocky. It was one day when I was with my father, and he was practicing some combat moves of his own. I had no clue what a spy was, or what they did, but I loved seeing my dad practice fighting techniques. It had always looked like an exotic dance to me, and I always wanted to be part of it. One day I saw him, in my opinion, playing with sticks, and I wanted to join. So I asked my father if I could. He seemed amused at the idea but said sure, handing me a stick as well. At first he let me block his attacks, or so he thought, but I kept on blocking him, and on a few occasions I even hit him in the side.
At first he thought it was because he wasn't on guard, but the faster he went, I was always faster, blocking his hit, and giving him a soft blow to the side, or to the leg, which was about all I could reach. This time he couldn't say it was my height, that gave me an advantage, because my reflex's had been above any normal humans. This seemed to make him proud. After that he called in one of his old teachers. A very old Japanese man, named Yoai-sensi. I never really like him, because he always called me wide-forehead-san. He started out by teaching me self control, showing me how to meditate and clear my mind of all things, this too also helped me clear my mind of being hungry, while my father taught me to live on basically nothing. I had about seven martial arts teachers, all of them seemed intent on honing my reflex's to my advantage, they at first would throw plastic cups at me, so that I wouldn't get hurt. They threw them as fast as they could, until I caught everyone of them. Gradually they worked their way up to knives, and though my mother protested, she couldn't have argued that I didn't miss one, always catching them by the handle, even as they spun through the air.
I could catch knives in midair by the age of seven, and I could run, and keep up with a car going about ten miles per hour, by the age of nine. I was like nothing anyone had ever seen. And my mind, worked almost faster than my reflex's. My brain absorbed information the first time it was taught, almost like a photographic memory, but I didn't even have to see it, I just had to hear it and pay attention. The more I learned the more I asked myself questions, the more I found answers, on a level even the smartest man in the world couldn't comprehend. It's like, as soon as I dig deep inside of myself, I find all this information, all this wisdom, that somehow becomes available to me. But it's only there when I call upon it. My mother had some of the highest teachers come, and keep filling my mind with history, with math, with science and with mechanics. I learned how to speak Spanish, German, Japanese, French, and I learned a bit of Morse code.
My parents had also noticed, I was never afraid of anything. Not knives, not fighting stronger men and woman then me, not spiders, not anything. It was like, I had been borne without the fear gene at all. They could have thrown anything at me, and I would have taken it on, without any feeling of worry at all. My father even took me out to the wild and taught me how to survive out there, taught me how to escape from enemies, if ever needed, he taught me what I could eat, how to hunt it, and how to hide my tracks, and during all of this the government was watching. They couldn't believe a simple human being could undergo so much, and absorb so much information under such a little time. My mother told me they wanted me,they believed I could be their ultimate human weapon, and start wars, leading their armies to conquer other countries, and continents. Though like you said, my mother leave's things out, and I believe they also wanted to run test's on me, train me even harder, to make me unstoppable, and I think they wanted me to find a way to make clones in some way, to make more of humans like me.
Or that's the conclusion I gather in my own mind, anyways like I had said the day they came, it had been….my tenth birthday. We had just gotten back from eating out at my favorite pizza place, and the men had come. There where four of them, tall and muscular, holding guns out as they came in. My mother had quickly clamped her hand over my mouth, and pulled me into the kitchen shutting the door. We both sat there with our ears against the door, trying to see what was going on.
"Where's the girl Haruno? We will be taking her now. She is getting older, and we need her when she's still got a few years to be trained before taking on her job."
I hadn't like the mans voice, It was deep, and it was threatening, no I hadn't been scarred I had wanted to go and beat up the man for talking in such a way to my father, but my mother told me I wouldn't be able to handle guns. I still have my doubts. I heard my father say,
"you will not be taking my daughter away, until she is ready, and defiantly not for your own selfish reasons."
The banging around of a fight began and I heard the man tell the others to restrain my father. That's when my mother dragged me out the back door and took my hand and began running.
"Come on hunny hurry?"
"But what about daddy mom?"
She had told me not to worry, but she never told me anything was alright. She knew I was smart enough to know different. We heard the men running after us, there where gun shots echoing through the air, but my mother told me not to look back and keep on running. So I did, not really scared that we would get shot, but I did worry about my father. Mom took us into the traffic, and a sudden glare of yellow lights stole my vision for a pure second. I heard screeching, I heard many cars beeping, I heard cursing, and worst of all I heard those men gaining up on us. I looked back, watching as they were too about to cross the street, my mom looked over to the taxi that had just barely hit us, she pulled me to the drivers side and yanked the man out throwing me into the car. Just as I was about to sit up the car lurched backwards, and around to the other side, stopping the traffic yet again. I buckled myself in a seat belt watching as the streetlights zoomed past us, and the car was going at an unsafe speed on normal roads.
I didn't even get a rush of adrenaline as we were chased by the five cars, I only had I certain awareness of what was going on around me, calculating in my mind what would happen on various choices in my mothers turning, and stopping. My mom drove around a corner, a cursed as she looked into her rear-view mirror, and saw the cars heavy on our pursuit. This made her punch her foot down on the gas, the pedometer racing up to the eighty, and past to the ninety. When went down and passed Cherry street across a red light, where one of the cars chasing after us, was side crashed by a tow truck, luckily enough for my mom and I. My mom spun the car into a screeching u-turn before turning immediately down another street, and taking a left before our pursuers could see.
One car went straight, another turned right, and a black Mercedes turned left, pursuing us yet again. My mother by now had her famous smirk on her face, and suddenly spun left, knocking the air out of me, and barely dogging a honking city bus, the other car wasn't as lucky. We decided, it wouldn't be safe to go home. I had whined telling my mom that I had wanted to see daddy, but all she had done was pursed her lips, and told me not to worry, that daddy would find a way to find us. We both knew I knew better, but I didn't press the subject, not wanting to allow my mind to calculate the possibilities of what happened to my father. That night we stayed at a hotel, watching the news. The government had made it seem that we had killed my father. Just hearing that my father was dead was enough to brake my heart. I cried silently in my mom's lap as we watched the news report.
It was said that my mother had strapped my father to a chair and lit him and the house on fire, burning him alive. They showed clips of us driving away from the scene, saying that the cars were undercover cops. They said they wanted my mother dead or alive, and that they wanted me alive as a witness to a murder, to put it nicely. They said they believed the reasoning for my mothers actions was because my father was seeing another woman. I didn't even get a chance to be at my fathers funeral, the next day my mother and I had to leave into another county, and change our names on one of my mom's resources. And her and I have been on the run ever since."
I stared at my grandmother, shocked that I wasn't crying right now. I didn't feel the pain I usually felt when I thought of my dad, instead I felt numb, seeing the messed up side of everything tenfold tonight. I felt the tears sting the back of my emerald eye's but they still hadn't come. My grandmother on the other hand, looked like she was going into shock. I don't think she could bring herself to believe that someone so young could possibly go through so much. And I hadn't even told her the rest yet. I stared down at my plate as a butler came and took it, I took a piece of my short pastel pink hair, and played with it as I let the story sink into my grandmothers mind. She gave me a look I couldn't describe, tears evident behind her warm brown eye's, and her age showed in that one moment, she patted my shoulder, and left the room.
I sat there confused for a second, and then I realized she must not be good with emotions either. I got up, and walked slowly to my room, sliding off my clothes, and putting on my moms big shirt, and some boy shorts. I climbed into bed and turned on my TV feeling the sudden need for cartoons, hoping they'd make me feel a little better. I stared at the TV not even paying attention to what was happening, and thought of my dad, and my mom. A clicked the TV off. I knew it was way too early to go to bed, but I didn't know what else to do. So I got up and started looking through my clothes trying to decide what I would wear on my first day of school tomorrow. I ended up with a pair of black skinny jeans, a red tank-top, and some red flats, liking the way the colors didn't contrast too badly with my bright hair.
I still had two hours to kill. I decided to climb back into bed and flick around the hundreds of channels my grandmother had, until I heard a knock on the door. I opened it, seeing a maid about my mother age holding a piece of apple pie.
"I thought you might like some ma'am." I smiled for once that day and nodded, grabbing the warm plate gingerly, and saying my thanks, wondering if my grandma had something to do with this. I carried it off to bed, grabbing my fork, and slicing down the front tip of the yummy smelling pie. Perfect. I ate it happily, watching TV as two girls in school argued about a guy and which one he should date. The things teens did on TV always seemed silly to me, but I guess tomorrow, I'd see exactly what it was like, to go to school. I got up, and took my plate downstairs to where I remembered the kitchen was. The cooks there greeted me, and said goodnight as I put my plate in the sink and left. They never allowed me to clean a thing in this house. Which I wasn't completely complaining about. I jumped into bed, clicking the TV off, and played my mothers song in my head, as I went to bed way too early, knowing that by four in the morning I'd be wide awake and ready to go. It was just how my body worked, after so many hours off sleep, I woke up. But tonight, at least I had a safe bed to lay in. The only thing that haunted me where the worries of my mother, and the nightmares of my past.
So I hope that was a little better you guys. :D tell me if you like it. Don't forget to review on which characters should be in this fic. Love you guys. Especially soccercrazyfreak & missladylaura for all your supportive reviews.