Notes: Happy 2019! It's been a bit, but life has been wild on my end of things. I went to Europe over winter break to visit a friend. Three weeks and six different countries. Very little writing got done but I've got so many ideas! I'm glad to be back and hope to get back into the groove of things. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

Satori (Between the Lines)
Chapter 10

Sakura takes a seat in the chair before Shikaku's desk, looking wistfully around the room. It has been a handful of weeks since she was last in here, though everything looks nearly the same. Yet, it all feels different. The chair in which she sits—which she has come to think of as her chair—is suddenly uncomfortable, unfamiliar. And these feelings of discomfort, Sakura knows, stem from the man who seats himself opposite her.

Sakura raises her gaze to meet his, looking into Shikaku's familiar sloe eyes. Her heart squeezes slightly as she reminisces all of the hours wiled away speaking of ciphers and code. She admired him so much; he created languages all his own. She wanted to be him. And now?

She can barely force herself to look at him.

How did they get to this point?

"You wished to speak with me," Sakura says in a leading manner when she realizes that he won't speak first. Her parents have taught her the necessary skills in negotiation and she knows that she needs to get him to play his cards first. He is the one who called this meeting; he is interested in getting something from her. Sakura knows that this gives her a measure of power. And she is not in the most charitable of moods.

"Yes," Shikaku says, folding his hands in front of him. His expression is inscrutable for a moment before he sighs, softening in a way. "I would like to formally apologize to you, Sakura. What happened on the Yamanaka grounds was unconscionable and inexcusable. I extend to you the deepest regrets of both Yoshino and myself."

Sakura stares at him, wondering what goes on behind his intelligent, calculating eyes. He is watching her every move, every shift and Sakura wonders what exactly he sees. Can he see the rage of injustice roiling within her, barely contained beneath her skin? "What outcome would have been unregrettable for you?"

He blinks, surprise flitting across his face before it is locked away once more. But Sakura has seen and recognizes it as a chink in his armor. It is a weakness, one that—as a merchant child—Sakura knows to leverage and exploit. "What do you mean?"

Sakura leans forward, pressing her advantage. "From the beginning, you have pitted me against Shikamaru. Before I even came to your home, you built me up as his adversary, a rival he had to topple for your affection. You wished to inspire Shikamaru out of his laziness with a challenge. Yet the approach he took—the approach you took—resulted in an escalating series of bullying, even violent encounters." Sakura pauses, considering Shikaku. "I know you received at least one report from Iruka-sensei about Shikamaru's behavior during sparring. Every time I walked away from a sparring match with Shikamaru I had bone-deep bruises at best. You knew he was escalating. How could he not, with the constant reminders of my apprenticeship with you that you dropped whenever I came to visit? Perhaps this was not the outcome that you wanted, but how could this not be the outcome you expected?"

"Sakura, it was never my intention for you to get injured," Shikaku says, voice slightly raised.

"But it was your intention to use me as a pawn to better your son," Sakura replies. His resounding silence speaks volumes. "You were willing to have me be a stepping stone in the path for your son's success. With a mindset like that, it is little wonder that I ended up injured as I was."

"My intention was twofold, that is true," Shikaku says in low tones, voice gravelly with upset. Sakura cannot tell if the upset stems from an anger over the way she paints him or from a frustration that she does not dance to his tune. Truthfully, Sakura doesn't care. "I saw an opportunity to better Shikamaru, to refine him in fire. Any compliments I gave you were true, however. You have a gift for ciphers and I would see them improved."

"Those two goals conflict," Sakura says after a long moment, refusing to be mollified by the sincerity shining in Shikaku's eyes. He doesn't seem to understand and Sakura truthfully is unsure how to make him understand. But she needs him to; he has to see what he has done, the injustices wrought upon both her and, to a lesser extent, Shikamaru. There's a sense of desperation beating against Sakura's breast as she remembers the accounts told her of clan-born versus first generation shinobi and how the clan-born always, always come out on top. Shikaku, oblivious as he may be, is contributing to the problem and Sakura cannot abide that ignorance. He has to learn for the sake of her safety and the safety of other first generation shinobi. "Because Shikamaru and I are in conflict, thanks in no small part to you. And you know as well as I which of those goals supersedes the other."

Shikaku is silent, unable to contradict her.

Sakura laughs, a low, bitter sound. "And that is what upsets me. You wish to refine Shikamaru in fire? I will not set myself ablaze to keep your son warm and I am not the anvil to temper him against." She pauses, gathering her scattered, whirling thoughts. "I am a pawn," Sakura says blandly, unbothered by her own words. "I'm just not yours. I serve the wills of my parents and the Haruno. My parents allowed me to pursue my selfish dream; how can I not offer myself in return? It is not an even trade; they are certainly losing out, but I am a child of merchants and I will always stack the odds in my favor. Outside of the Haruno and my duties to them, I serve the will of the state. That is the agreement my parents signed when I joined the Academy and the agreement I'll sign if I graduate. You are not the state. I do not serve you or your interests."

Shikaku watches her, crossing his arms. "And what of your internship?" he asks.

Sakura tilts her head slightly, resisting the urge to shrug. "My contract is with the Intelligence Division as a whole, not with you specifically. I can work with Inoichi-san, Ibiki, and Anko-san. They've already agreed to let me shadow them here."

Shikaku blanches. "You're shadowing Ibiki and Anko's work?"

Sakura shakes her head. "I won't be shadowing their interrogation work, at least not right now; they'll let me sit in their offices and work on ciphers."

"That is a stopgap measure," Shikaku replies. "None of them have in-depth training in code."

"I know," Sakura says blandly. "I will not compromise my safety; I'll do enough of that once I've graduated." Sakura swallows, waffling for a moment as she tries to decide if she should make this bid or not. She's been toeing the line of appropriateness and this may just push Shikaku over it. It is a gambit, but it may just be worth it. "If you care about my education as you claim, perhaps you can arrange for me to work with another individual who works in ciphers."

Shikaku's eyes blaze for a moment and Sakura fears that she has made the leap across that line. Then, his shoulders slump as he sighs, closing his eyes. "I will see what I can do." He opens his eyes and looks at her again. "I am sorry for all of this, Sakura. I never intend—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose that does not matter. I lost sight of what truly mattered and you were scathed in the aftermath. I am sorry."

"I know," Sakura says, getting to her feet. She looks into Shikaku's eyes, heart heavy as she considers the man who was her first mentor, the first person to really try to foster her intelligence in a focused manner. He is the one who truly opened up the world of codes and ciphers to her. He introduced her to a lifelong passion; there is no way for her to repay him. But then, there is no way for him to make up for the pain caused by his machinations. She hates how things have soured between them, tainting her memories, but she does not know how to fix this. Sakura isn't sure if she even should. "But I cannot forgive you right now."

"I know," Shikaku says, watching her with sad eyes. "I wish you well, Sakura. I know you will do great things. I'll be watching."

Sakura leaves his office, feeling subdued but lighter. She knows the sadness will linger for a while, but, in time, the clouds will pass.

And Sakura will continue moving forward.

"Hey forehead!"

Sakura turns, shoulders slouching in an instinctive attempt to make herself smaller at the anger in the voice. She swallows nervously when she realizes that a handful of her classmates, ones she never speaks to, are around her.

"Yes?" she asks, proud that her voice doesn't waver.

"You've been hanging around with those clan kids," the ring leader, Ami, the girl who once tormented Sakura, drawls. "It wasn't that big a deal when it was just the Yamanaka heiress, but now you've extended to the Aburame and even the Nara." She narrows her eyes. "Don't think we haven't noticed."

Sakura flexes her hands, surprised at the sweat that coats them. "I am friends with Ino and Shino." She doesn't mention Torune, knowing that Ami doesn't know him. Her brow furrows. She and Shikamaru are by no means close, nor is she a fan of the Nara. "I worked with Shikamaru-san's father."

"Friends?" Ami says, forcing a laugh. "Don't make me laugh."

"If you ask, I'm sure they'll be friends with you too," Sakura says earnestly, looking around at her fellow students. She notes that the ones gathered are all civilian-born like she is. "It can be intimidating because they're from shinobi clans, but they are really nice! I'm sure Ino and Shino want more friends."

Some of the students shift, doubt clouding their expressions but Ami remains resolute. She sneers at Sakura. "You've always been pathetic Sakura, with your large forehead and subpar looks, but this is beyond all. Desperately forcing your affections on clan kids because of their pedigree? There are words for girls like you." Her eyes glitter as her lips curl viciously. "Whore."

The other kids in the circle gasp, spot of color burning in their cheeks. Sakura frowns, feeling her own face suffuse with color. She doesn't know the meaning of the word, but based on context she knows it is bad and cruel.

"I am not," she says, glaring at Ami. "Take it back!"

Sakura sees Ami's composure slip a bit, probably a combination of the other students' discomfort and the force of Sakura's reply. Ami obviously did not expect any opposition to her methods.

"I will not," Ami says, angling her head haughtily. "It's true."

Sakura considers Ami for a moment, surprised at how small she is, how fragile. Once upon a time the bully seemed larger than life to Sakura, but now?

Now Sakura sees Ami as she truly is: a civilian student with unearned pride and underdeveloped shinobi skills.

Sakura has faced down the Nara scion and survived the encounter with new scars and new eyes; she has befriended some of the most terrifying and unstable members of the Torture and Interrogation unit; she has aired her grievances with grace and poise to the Jonin Commander of Konoha and emerged the victor. Sakura is forged in fire and blood; her mettle is ironclad.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, Ami," Sakura says firmly, squaring her shoulders and meeting Ami's eyes. "I'm sorry that you've obviously never experienced real friendship, since you really think I am trying to use Ino and Shino for gain. I won't apologize though for being friends with them and I won't stop being friends with them just because you don't like it. You're just going to have to get over it."

Ami's face goes pale before approaching a violent shade of purple as the other civilian students snicker under their breath. "You—you—" Her voice shakes but her hands are steady as she reaches into her weapons pouch and withdraws a kunai.

Sakura immediately does the same, watching Ami warily. They have barely covered the basics of kunai training and Sakura can see that Ami handles her kunai poorly; the weight unbalanced in her hand. Ami's kunai is also blunted at the edges, obviously one of the ones on loan from the Academy. Sakura is immensely grateful to Ino and Ino's training with Shiranui-san: Sakura holds the kunai properly. It is sharp, the kunai standard among active shinobi.

"Ami, we are not supposed to use our kunai outside of training," Sakura says, keeping her gaze on Ami. In her periphery, the other students move away, getting themselves out of danger. "This isn't safe."

But Ami doesn't listen to her, striking out at Sakura in a wild, uncoordinated manner. Sakura, acting on her training with Ino, catches the blow on her kunai, deflecting it back toward Ami.

There is a jarring sensation—Ami put a lot of her strength into the blow—but it is nowhere near as jarring as Ami's response.

Ami yelps as her hand is forced into an awkward position, fumbling with her kunai. With the poor hold Ami has on it, as well as the force of Sakura's deflection, the kunai is turned inward, catching Ami's wrist and palm. The bluntness of the kunai prevents major injury but it digs into the meat of Ami's palm, drawing blood.

Ami's yelp becomes a scream and Sakura flinches back, jolted by the noise and the blood coating Ami's hand.

"I…" Sakura doesn't know what to say, turning her gaze helplessly to the others.

They watch her charily, with a fear that was not present before. Sakura swallows, tucking her kunai away, as she puts her emptied hands up to show that she's harmless.

"Ami," Sakura begins.

"You freak!" Ami screams, fear and revulsion in her face. She cradles her bleeding hand close. "I've always known you were a freak but it looks like you're a monster too!"

Sakura cringes, words of apology turning to ash on her tongue. Ami doesn't want to hear it right now.

So, Sakura turns and leaves, unsurprised that none of them try to stop her. The moment she gets out of their line of sight she begins to run, tears blurring her vision. Her feet carry her to the Aburame grounds but she doesn't head toward the residences.

Instead, Sakura moves into the forest, taking refuge among the trees. She channels chakra into her feet, climbing up one of the large spruces. She gets above the lower branches, nestling herself into the foliage where no one can see her. Once Sakura is situated into a nook where two branches emerge from the trunk, she draws her knees into her chest and begins to sob.

She cannot get their expressions of disgust and fear out of her mind. She's a monster masquerading in human flesh. What type of person attacks someone like that? Another child?

She is uncomfortably reminded of what Shikamaru did to her; the helplessness she experienced at his hands. Did she just do the same to Ami?

It's what I'm training for, a cool, rational part of herself whispers. It is what I'll do once I graduate from the Academy.

They sugarcoat it, the instructors do, skirting around the topic of death and focusing instead on techniques. But those techniques are merely the tools the students who graduate will implement in killing.

Can she do that?

Sakura squeezes her knees even harder, remembering the blood coating Ami's hand. The bright, violent red that she caused.

Can she do that?

She jolts as she realizes she's dug her fingernails into her knees. She withdraws her fingers, staring at the raised red welts.

Sakura thinks of her friends: of Ino's generous confidence which bolsters her, of Torune's wonderful buzzing which lulls and calms her, of Shino's quirky and cute speaking habits which endear her. She closes her eyes, wiping away the tacky residue on her face.

For them, for their safety, for their happiness, she can do this, no matter how awful it is.

"Why are you crying?"

Sakura shrieks, limbs flailing for a moment before she turns and braces herself against the trunk. She peeks over beside her, astonished to see a boy perched on a branch near her.

He is of a similar age to her, with combed and shiny black hair. He is the palest individual she's ever seen. The oddest things about him though is his lack of expression. It isn't just muted; Sakura's learned to read all of the Aburame expressions, however small and obscured though they may be.

His face is absolutely blank.

"Can I help you?" Sakura asks warily.

"Why are you crying?" he repeats. "I've never seen you do it before."

"You haven't," Sakura says, alert and frightened by his words. "And how long have you been following me?"

"Three weeks, four days, and nine hours," he replies flatly.

"Oh," Sakura says, stunned. And then she calculates it in her head. "That was around the time that Shikaku-san extended my Academy field experience assignment into an internship, correct?" She blinks, reevaluating the boy before her. He is a spy of some sort, though she has no idea who would want her followed and observed. "Who do you work for?"

"I cannot say," he replies, opening his mouth wide and pulling down his tongue to show her. There is a pattern of lines in black imprinted there. A seal. "I am not allowed."

Sakura stares at him for a long moment, racking her mind to try to come up with the people in Konoha who use seals. She comes up with none, as she's never really looked into it. At least she has a place to start. Sakura regards the boy, conflicted for a moment before sighing. "I'm Sakura, as I'm sure you know. What is your name?"

"I am designated 000347," he replies.

"That's your name?" Sakura asks, aghast.

"It is what I am called," he says. "I have answered a number of your questions. As this is not an interview, social niceties dictate you reciprocate. Again, I ask, why are—now were—you crying?"

"I was crying about what happened earlier. You saw?" He nods. "I hurt that girl."

"Incorrect, she hurt herself. She was incompetent in handling a kunai; her grip on it is what caused it to gouge her skin when you deflected it," 000347 says, giving the assessment coolly. "She provoked you when she chose to attack. You mounted a sufficient defense of yourself; she has to face the consequences of her actions."

"Alright," Sakura says, a bit stunned at the clinical dissection of the event. "Sure. Still, she ended up injured in part because of my defense. When Ami cut herself, they all looked at me with fear. They looked at me like I'm a monster."

"A monster?" 000347 repeats, eyes widening slightly.

As this is the first time she's seen him react to anything, Sakura thinks it's a good sign. "Because I hurt. Because she bled. They are civilian-born students, unused to violence. They aren't prepared for what the Academy will make us. We're being training to one day be monsters." Sakura sighs. "There's a reason that there are so few civilian-born shinobi in our active forces."

"And you're alright with that?" he asks, tone shifting ever so slightly.

"If it means protecting my friends then yes. My friends are all from shinobi clans; they cannot escape this violent life. They won't even try. And why would they? It is their heritage and legacy. So I'm going to follow them into that life." Sakura looks down at her hands, taking in the calluses developing there. One day, they will be hard and firm and she'll be able to stand equal with her friends. "I will act as their shield and protection." She looks up into 000347's sloe eyes that are fixated on her. "I will become a monster for them."

000347 swallows at the force in her words and gaze. "You'll let yourself be destroyed for them?"

"Friendship is a powerful thing," Sakura says, shrugging. She clears her throat and shifts the topic away from the heaviness. "000347 is not a name. I won't call you that."

"Then what will you call me?" he asks.

Sakura assesses the awkward boy, stunted in so many regards. He is odd undoubtedly, dangerous assuredly, and working for an unknown entity who is keeping tabs on her which is both concerning and creepy. And yet there is a fire in him, muffled beneath the brush certainly, but burning still.

And quiet fires are some of the most perilous of all, accruing unseen power until it billows over completely and destroys everything in its wake.

Sakura sees hope in him.

"I'll call you Celandine," Sakura decides. "It's a yellow flower. Its symbolic meaning is 'joys to come.'"