Satori (Between the Lines)
Chapter 13
Sakura furrows her brow, watching Mizuki-sensei intently as he holds up a large leaf. She's poised to take notes as needed, ignoring the scoffs that come from some of the less academically inclined students. To be fair, few of her classmates match Sakura's passion for academics. Just because they will not be tested on the theory behind this technique does not mean it is unimportant.
"Over the next few days we will begin to access your chakra," Mizuki says. "Now, we are just accessing chakra at this point; we will not even contemplate channeling it until next month." His smile firms into a scowl as he stares them all down, trying to impress upon them the importance of these rules. Even though some of the clan children have received training in chakra manipulation, they were always under vigilant supervision from their parents. Mizuki alone could not supervise thirty children attempting to wield their chakra. His frown fades to a smile as they all nod. "I thought we could end today with a small demonstration of what we'll be working on for the next month. When we start manipulating chakra, your first task will be to push your chakra into a leaf."
Mizuki makes an exaggerated flourish to the leaf in his hand. A couple of the children giggle and his smile widens. "Now, what you will be doing is burning away the center of the leaf with pure chakra and keeping that chakra there, not allowing it to spread elsewhere." Mizuki draws on his chakra, enacting his words.
There is a smattering of gasps and clapping, mainly from civilian-born children. The clan children are jaded to such simple feats of chakra, but there is awe in the faces of the civilian children. Mizuki feels a slight pang of nostalgia, remembering his own joy when he was introduced to chakra. Where has that magic gone for him?
He shakes himself of these errant thoughts, looking over his students. "Can anyone tell me why we complete this task? What does it help build?"
Most of the students shuffle a bit, breaking off eye contact in hopes of not being called on. Sakura, an exemplary student as always, meets his gaze and smiles eagerly. Mizuki doesn't fight the urge to return the smile, nodding at her. "Sakura?"
"These exercises will help build our chakra control," Sakura says. "Developing chakra control will help us when it comes to putting chakra into the jutsus we do. It'll also help keep us from injuring our chakra coils as we practice."
"Exactly right, Sakura," Mizuki replies. "Chakra control is foundational to every ninjutsu you will perform if you become shinobi. An individual with smaller chakra reserves may very well beat someone with greater reserves because they have better chakra control. Your ability to control your chakra and employ it to your will may be the deciding factor in the survival of you and your unit." He pauses, voice gentling. "I'm not trying to scare you; I only wish to impress upon you the importance of these sometimes tedious exercises. They're needed to perform the awesome ninjutsus you see shinobi perform. And that'll be it for today! Uzuki-san will start proctoring the afternoon spars in fifteen minutes."
Most of the students scramble to their feet and scamper outside, but Sakura lingers. Mizuki greets her kindly, well-used to Sakura staying after lessons to ask questions. Once, he believed she stayed afterwards out of a reluctance to attend to the more physical side of Academy training. He has seen her vast improvement in that area over the past few months and yet still she stays, excited to speak with him one-on-one.
Mizuki truly doesn't mind it. All of the Academy instructors play favorites. It's a behavior that isn't frowned upon; after all, the entire infrastructure of Konoha's shinobi world relies upon it. What else but nepotism would have the succession of Hokage determined based on familial or mentorship bond? So Suzume dotes upon the Hyuga students who come through, Daikoku sings the praises of the Uchiha, Iruka shows a soft spot for the Uzumaki brat, and Mizuki?
Well, Mizuki is civilian-born and civilian-bred; he doesn't care to kowtow to any of the clan children that he teaches. The clans have done nothing for him but prevent him from rising among the shinobi ranks. His refusal to attach himself to any of the clans has garnered him no favors.
So Mizuki's favorite student is Sakura. Her intelligence, her curiosity, and her dedication seem a reflection to him of the boy he once was. And Mizuki would prefer to keep her spirit from being crushed by the system if at all possible. Loathe as he is admit it, her friendship with Shino is wise, even though he doubts there is any calculation to it. Of all of the clans, the Aburame clan is the most decent, though that is not saying much.
"May I help you, Sakura?" he asks.
"Maybe," Sakura replies, fingers fidgeting but back straight. Her parents have taught her well in regards to her posture. "During my field experience assignment I received a bit of chakra control training. I was wondering if there are any books I could read on additional techniques. I checked the library, but all of the books for chakra manipulation are restricted access to genin and above only."
Mizuki rubs his chin, pondering her question. "I'm afraid the Academy doesn't have any reading material available to your age group, Sakura-chan. There is a fear regarding damaged chakra coils. Have you asked Shino? He may be able to lend you a book from the Aburame clan's library."
Sakura's nose crinkles. "We looked through the available books at his house; everything related to chakra control is specific to hive hosts. Ino offered too, but the chakra control in her family scrolls concerns uses related to the mind." Sakura's face falls a bit. "I can't do any of those exercises."
I'm not a clan child, lingers unspoken but understood between them.
Again, Mizuki marvels at the discrepancies between civilian and clan children. The Academy, in theory, should put all of the students on equal playing ground by the time they graduate. The students should become rounded, prepared individuals, ready to be genin. And yet everything is set up to the clan children's advantage, from the spars where they can practice their family techniques to the focused attentions given by Academy teachers. The basic repertoire of ninjutsus and fundamental skills learned at the Academy are nice, but the implicit understanding is that the knowledge gained from the Academy is not enough. Clan children receive ample supplemental training at home, both in secret techniques, clan-specific jutsus, and practical knowledge passed on by family members. Civilian-raised children?
Well, they earn the privilege of acting as fodder on missions. Or, if they manage to scrape by, they can make it to the illustrious rank of chunin.
"I'm not allowed to pass any of the books on to you," Mizuki says, words coating his tongue bitterly. "However, we can get some practice in over these next few months, depending on how you progress."
It is a paltry platitude, nowhere near what he would like to offer her, but Sakura stares up at him as if he offered her the world.
"Thank you Mizuki-sensei!" Sakura says, throwing herself at his legs in a hug before darting away.
Mizuki watches her go, smile slowly falling away. One day, sooner more likely than later, Konoha will snuff out the bright spark that makes Sakura Sakura. And Mizuki knows there is little he can do to prevent it.
Ibiki pens out a summary to his most recent interrogation session, a scowl stretching his scars. The Kumo nin was recalcitrant and unruly, unsurprising truthfully, but something about him stuck with Ibiki. Maybe it was his soft spoken tone, gentle, but firm in his convictions even as Ibiki systematically tries to break him to pieces. Maybe it's the fact that his eyes were the same shade of brown as Idate's. Hell, maybe it's the fact that Ibiki is running on two hours of sleep for the past thirty-seven hours.
Still, something about this prisoner clings to him, refusing to let go.
Ibiki startles at the rasp of paper in the corner of his office and he looks up, suddenly remembering Sakura's presence. Her attention is focused on the large book she's holding, something about agriculture in the Land of Tea or some other drivel. He's never seen anyone as voracious a reader as Sakura is; Ibiki thinks that she would be happy to read about grass growing.
Hell, that's probably what she's reading about right now.
Only Sakura.
Ibiki scrubs a hand over his jaw, the bristles of his unshaven face prickling against his hand. The tightness of his scowl eases as he watches her, utterly absorbed in her reading. Such single-minded focus won't serve her well in the field, where she'll have to maintain multiple domains of attention, but, for now, it's alright. Something in his chest warms as he realizes the absolute trust Sakura has in him, to so willingly relax in his presence like this.
If someone had told him a year ago that an Academy student would feel so comfortable around him, he would've laughed in their face before dragging them before one of the Yamanaka to assess if they were a plant. After all, no one felt comfortable around him; in what world would an Academy student?
And yet, despite all of the odds, Haruno Sakura has wormed her way into his life. He knows that she was intimidated when they first met, his loud, abrasive nature making her uneasy. But she shed those fears quickly, offering him simple kindnesses that fell by the wayside long ago for him. When was the last time someone gave him a guileless smile? Brought him a homemade lunch? He thinks it was sometime before Idate disappeared, before Ibiki made chūnin and was slated for the role of commanding officer of T&I.
Ibiki stares down unseeingly at his hands.
It's been a long time since he's felt human.
Sometimes, it feels like the blood will never be washed clean.
He scrutinizes his hands intensely, hearing for a moment the screams of the Kumo nin in his mind. His hands are spotless; he wore his thick gloves during the session and fastidiously cleaned up thereafter.
Still, it doesn't prevent the creeping, crawling sensation of iron coating and flaking off his skin.
Ibiki shakes his head roughly, scrambling that train of thought.
He doesn't have a clue as to why Sakura likes him or why she chooses to stick around. He knows he isn't good company; his social life is nonexistent outside of interactions with some of the more unstable members of the Intelligence Division. But he'll do what he can to encourage her to stay. He knows that he's unworthy of her kindness and friendship, but he'll accept whatever scraps she offers. Ibiki may be forever bloodstained, but he doesn't mind.
He'll be better able to protect Sakura that way.
Less morals to hinder him, after all.
"What are you nerds doing in here?" Anko asks, popping in unannounced as is her wont.
Sakura nearly jumps clear out of her skin, but Ibiki merely sighs, shaking his head. "We're working, Anko. A task you are entirely unfamiliar with."
Anko's eyes take on a manic gleam as she sizes him up, but Ibiki just watches her in turn. He's just as unhinged and dangerous as she is, only in a different way. Anko smirks, mania easing in her eyes, as if she knows his thoughts.
"The work I do is much more fun, old man," Anko taunts.
"I'm three years older," Ibiki says.
"And a helluva a lot uglier," Anko snipes back.
Ibiki snorts, choosing not to rise to her verbal jabs. Anko's attention shifts beyond him to Sakura, who sits quietly with her book closed in her lap.
"How are you doing, kid?" she asks, smirk softening into almost verging on a smile.
"I'm well," Sakura replies. "And you, Anko-san?"
"Doing fine," Anko says, flapping a hand to dismiss Sakura's concern.
"Oh!" Sakura perks up, rustling through her bag. She pulls out a small, wrapped package. "I have something for you, Anko-san."
"You do?" Anko asks, true surprise flitting across her features before her expression settles to apathy.
Sakura jumps to her feet and rushes toward Anko, offering the package to her. Anko takes it and opens it with deft, eager fingers. "Dango?" Anko asks, pulling out one of the sweets.
Sakura nods enthusiastically. "Sarasa-san bought me some from a nearby vendor for helping her out with some of the detailing on this leather bag commission she was working on. She needed my help because I have tinier fingers for the fine details." Sakura raises her hands, wiggling said fingers. "And the vendor gave me a lot so I thought you might like some too!"
Ibiki notices the way Anko's lips start to curl into a secret smile before she firms them, keeping her expression neutral. Still, her hands betray her as she gently, reverently, takes a stick of dango and presses it to her lips. "So you help in a leather shop?"
Sakura lights up and begins to speak about the various projects she's assisted on in the merchant district. Most of the jargon flies over Ibiki's head, but he enjoys the clear enthusiasm Sakura has for the topic, her eyes sparkling and hands gesticulating wildly.
Anko's eyes cut to him and she tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing.
He nods in turn.
No matter their differences, no matter Anko's general dislike of him, they are united in this.
Sakura is an important person to both of them.
And Ibiki thinks there is very little they would not do for her sake.
Sakura curls her toes in the grass, luxuriating in the heat of the ground beneath her and the sun above. It has been a long day and her body aches with the satisfaction of the all-out spars she participated in, leaving her exhausted. Her eyes slip shut as she enjoys the simple pleasure of relaxing.
Truthfully, she is a bit frustrated. Though Sakura knows that she made the right move in withdrawing from apprenticeship with Shikaku, her progress in learning ciphers has slowed. If she were honest with herself, her learning has outright stalled. She does not regret her decision to cut ties with Shikaku, but she hadn't realized the true dirth in cipher knowledge. No one else has that knowledge or, if they do, they do not care to share it with an Academy student.
Sakura purses her lips, pulling up a bit of grass. She's gotten complacent, used to being handed the knowledge as she asks for it. Not too long ago she was finding work arounds to get basic shinobi knowledge before she entered the Academy. She just needs to get creative again.
Grass falls on her face and Sakura startles upright, sneezing. Eyes smarting, she meets Celadine's passive gaze.
"Are you well?" he asks.
"I'm fine," Sakura says, rubbing at her nose. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching you," he replies.
"Right," Sakura huffs, shaking her head. "Your superior didn't pull you off detail when the news got around?"
Celandine cocks his head.
Sakura flings herself back down onto her back, staring up at the sky. "I'm no longer the apprentice of Nara Shikaku."
Celandine remains silent for a long moment and Sakura turns her attention to him. "It matters not. You are still interesting."
"To you or to your superior?"
"Both," Celandine says.
"Huh," Sakura mutters.
She doesn't think that she should enjoy his company as much as she does. He's undoubtedly odd, his mannerisms flat and restrained. He holds himself a lot like some of the high-level shinobi that she catches glimpses of sometimes; though she's never seen one as young as Celandine. Sakura knows that all of her friends-Torune especially-would be against her continued association with him if they knew.
But they don't know.
Sakura pats the ground beside her. Celandine just stares at her and she clears her throat, offering him a tentative smile. "Sit down with me if you like."
Celandine takes the seat with a sublime sense of grace that Sakura doesn't think she'll ever be able to accomplish, no matter her years of training. She takes a moment to feel envious before refocusing.
"I've been meaning to ask; are you allowed to speak with me? It doesn't exactly seem like the best idea as your target."
Celandine's eyes slant away from her, a strange lilt to his lips. "I received no orders regarding not speaking to you."
Sakura cannot keep herself from laughing at that, rolling onto her side as she does so. Celandine watches her quietly, his chest feeling light. They spend several long moments like this until Sakura manages to calm herself.
"I see you enjoy bending the rules to fit your needs," Sakura says. "I can understand that."
"Your clothing is green," Celandine says blandly.
Sakura looks down at herself, groaning at the sight of grass stains across the bright yellow fabric of her shirt. "Otou-sama won't be pleased," Sakura says as she gingerly pats the stains. "Looks like otou-sama and I will be doing the washing early this week."
"Your father washes the clothes? Why not hire someone else for that task?" Celandine asks.
"Otou-sama likes to do it himself when he's in the village; he says it's relaxing," Sakura replies. "I like helping him. We go down to the river to wash and usually eat our lunches afterwards."
"Aren't there more important things that both of you need to do?"
It's a question that Mebuki asks Kizashi often as well. So, Sakura draws on her father's steadfast reply, "What's more important than spending time with family?"
Celandine falls silent and, from the slight furrow of his brow, Sakura can tell he's pondering something. She plucks out several pieces of grass, eying them for quality. She chooses the greenest and plumpest among them, cupping it between her hands and pressing her thumbs up against her mouth. Glancing askance at Celandine, she grins when she realizes that he is still contemplating something.
Sakura blows hard into her hands and ensuing sound tramples the quiet between them. She notices with glee the way that Celandine jumps, turning a doleful look on her.
"What are you doing?" Celandine asks.
"Playing a grass whistle," Sakura says, grin widening. "Well, more like a grass trumpet."
"How do you do it?" he asks, peering down at her hands with interest.
Sakura's grin softens at the spark of interest in her eyes and she opens her hands, placing the blade of grass into his. "Here," she says, cupping his hands around it. "Let me show you."