Sakura ran up the stairs.

Her feet pounded on the steps, her stomach muscles were clenched tight from breathing so hard. Her face was flushed. Her cheeks felt hot. And her throat was dry.

She could have just run up the side of the building. She had the control. But she would have run out of chakra halfway up. Anyway, there was something therapeutic about running pointlessly up the stairs. It made it easier to empty out her head.

It was lunch. Most of the students were outside goofing off or training or eating in the cafeteria downstairs.

She slammed open the door at the top, gasping for breath, and stumbled out onto the rooftop.

It was windy up there, and as she caught her breath, limping over to the railing, hand pressed to the cramp in her side, she pressed her other hand against her skirt to keep it from flapping up.

She sat down against the rail and looked up at a cloudy sky. She stayed there for hours, just feeling the wind sliding around her. Soon, the color of the sky was changing.

The roof access door opened again. It was their new sensei. She didn't like him.

Her dislike increased when he walked over to a spot beside her, and lit a cigarette.

"Role models aren't supposed to smoke."

"Are you dumb? Ninja are supposed to have all kinds of vices. Therefore, I am fulfilling my duties as a role model."

That nasty smile.

"Sensei, how come you're still here? Don't you have a class or something at your Dojo to teach?"

"Our students have the day off today. Hah, really, I'm still here because I got a message from Bro not to come home today. I guess it's one of those 'getting lucky' nights for him. No way would I be able to sleep from the noise. I'll probably crash at the office - this is why I've got a sleeping-bag in my locker here."

Sakura's jaw dropped, then she blushed.

"Don't you think I'm too young to be hearing about this stuff?"

Iruka took a few puffs, blew smoke rings up into the air to drift along the wind.

"That's true. Well, how's this then. It's after working hours, so right now, I don't necessarily have to be your sensei, and thinking about being professional and such."

Not really, she thought.

"Anyway, apparently you're not too young to have that silly, forlorn, 'woe-is-me,' gut-kicked look. So you shouldn't be too young to hear about more mature relationships."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head against them, hiding her face. Why did he have to come up here anyway?

"Oh, yes, I am. You're a bad man, corrupting the youth."

He burst into laughter, which made her cheeks burn worse. Asshole. He held out the cigarette towards her.

"Want a puff?"

"No!"

"It is a nasty habit, really. Stains the teeth, cuts down breath capacity, etc. etc. and so forth. So I brush my teeth with whitening stuff several times a day, I have to work out that much harder just to compensate for the changes to my heart and lungs, and I just might die of cancer later on. Doesn't seem likely though - how many ninja you've heard about have lived long enough to die from cancer? Someone will kill me before then. Sandaime is really quite a guy to be so strong and to have lasted up to his age."

He tapped the cig against the steel rail, watched the hot ashes float away.

"What are you really doing up here, Sensei?"

"I told you, I'm staying at the school tonight because my foster father and his lady are getting their groove on and there's no way I'd be able to get any rest. And the few friends I've got - they're out on missions. Well, except for this one girl, but she still has a thing for me and I don't have a thing for her, so it wouldn't exactly be fair to go, 'Hey, can I crash at your place tonight?'"

Sakura stood up, red-faced, turned towards the sunset. At her feet, the smooth gray of the concrete surface was pink and gold. If she turned to look in the opposite direction, she would see the faces of the Kage on the monument lit up in those same warm colors. If she turned thirty degrees to the South, she would be able to see, in the distance, in between two competing department stores facing each other, the little apartment she shared with her parents on the outskirts of the Old Districts, close to the edge where the original wall stood.

"Does she know you don't like her?"

"Ah, well," Iruka glanced at the cig, which had burned down almost to the butt. He tossed it up into the air, flashed it into ash with a burst of chakra.

That too was dust in the wind.

"But I do like her, you see. She's just about my best bud. But I'm not in love with her. She knows that, but you know, some girls are content with being cared for, and don't mind so much if they love their partner more than the other way around. I'm not okay with that though."

Sakura took a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped at her face. She had only just realized that it was still kinda messy looking. Euggh. There was something wrong about being seen post-cry by a teacher who talked about porn in class.

She asked, "Don't you think that maybe, maybe if she tried her hardest, then, someday, you could love her back the same way?"

Iruka shrugged, hopped up to the rail, balanced on the balls of his feet.

"I'm not a compromising type of dude."

Sakura jumped up to the rail too. Her balance was pretty good compared to most of the class (except for Sasuke, who excelled at everything), and anyway, she could certainly stick with her chakra if she felt herself about to fall. With just her toes against the narrow steel, and with the wind blowing around her, it felt like flying.

"At least you two are friends," she muttered. Her shoulders would have drooped, except she had her arms outstretched wide for balance. "I bet you don't tell her she's useless and things. I bet you're not nasty to her."

"Hrmm. Hey, stretch kick slowly, as far you can. Let me see you do a vertical split."

He demonstrated, raising one leg straight up until his knee was pressed against his torso, his foot over his head.

Sakura frowned. Well, she was wearing tights under the skirt and... Anyway, it was pretty obvious that Sensei was into athletic, busty girls. He probably wouldn't perv onto her, right?

"Not too bad. Now, let me see your forms."

"Up here?"

"Up here. Yes, like that. You do have the standard taijutsu forms down quite well. You just don't fight enough to be able to use them in a practical situation."

If she sparred like that, she'd have ugly hands and feet, just like. Well, just like Sakaki-sempai, whose hands had rock-hard calluses on the knuckles, on the edges, at the heel of the palm, even at the fingertips. She admired sempai for her strength, her height, her figure, heck, even her hair... but she could be a lot prettier. Sempai wore no make-up, she didn't bother styling that long, glossy hair, and of course, her nails looked like that of a man. Her clothes were usually baggy and worn, and the few occasions she was witnessed in more figure-flattering attire were usually followed by fights.

"Keep that up for now. Anyway, I was pretty mean to that girl, when we were kids. I used to call her names and things. Made fun of her little boobs."

"You were a jerk."

"I was trying to motivate her. Turn in your back foot ten degrees. More tension in the left elbow. Straighten your back. Anyway, it worked. A little too well."

Sakura would normally be pretty nervous at this point, dancing around several stories above the ground on a length of steel only a couple of inches wide, while being watched by her Sensei one-on-one and with the wind picking up and the lighting getting worse. Right now though, it seemed like the thing to do.

It was stupid, talking about this stuff with the guy. Wasn't he a famous killer? Ugh. Why was she talking about her issues with him? Maybe he'd brainwash all her classmates and turn them into mass murderers through subtle conversations about love and porn and booze. Maybe he'd brainwash her. Didn't they say the Fist of the North Star could do something like that? Sakura promised herself that if he made her start watching porn, or start checking out guys' packages or something, she'd kill herself. She'd sit in a tub and slit her wrists lengthwise and relax and float away.

Perspiration was starting to bead on her brow, between her shoulder-blades, on her chest. Front kick, low block, back fist, back kick, palm thrust. She wobbled a bit on the spin, but managed to keep her feet without cheating and sticking with chakra.

Getting a little short of breath, she got out, "I don't think. Well, I don't think Sasuke is trying to motivate me," she admitted. It wasn't like it was a secret, right? "I guess I'm just not. Not exceptional enough. He sure pays attention to Sakaki-sempai."

"Ah, don't be fooled. He's not like Neji, who really is smitten with Sakaki-chan. Sasuke only looks at her wondering, 'How can I get stronger than this girl? How dare she be this good?' Okay, you're getting tired already? You can stop."

Puffing from the effort, Sakura stepped off the rail back onto the roof. The moon was starting to come up. Below them, the leaves in the trees rustled.

"He's just had a rough childhood," she said. "I guess."

"Oh ho. You're thinking that excuses his personality? Why don't you give Naruto that much slack?"

"Naruto's an idiot and. And he's scary. He's dangerous."

She thought of the few sparring sessions the blond had been allowed to participate in. Inevitably, his sloppy form would get him hit. And then It would come out, red light all over his body. The matches would always stop then. There were rumors that he'd killed a student once, long ago.

"You know," Iruka said, "imagine what other people, at this very moment, are doing."

They could see the lights of the city burning brightly at this point. It made it hard to see the stars.

Right now? Sakura imagined her thoughts stretching out like a hand. No, that was a little creepy. She imagined her thoughts riding along on the wings of a bird, flitting from window to window. She pictured Sasuke in an elegantly furnished little place, full of panels of deeply stained oak and lamps made of polished bronze and black iron, pouring over dusty old scrolls of his family. He would look very intense, very focused. He probably didn't even notice that he was feeling lonely.

Her cheeks turned red. Maybe, at this very moment, Ino was watching Sasuke from right outside his window. Ugh. She should have never told her friend that she liked him.

When had that started anyway? Before, boys were annoying and smelly and dirty and naughty. When she pictured being older, she had pictured being the one stepping on them, laughing coz she would be stronger.

"Right now, Naruto is training very hard. He can't use normal chakra at all, because of what Yondaime did to him. It's such a large thing inside him. It comes out when he's not thinking about it. And for the longest time, there was no one to help him."

"He shouldn't even be trying to be a ninja," Sakura said.

"Well. It's easy to be saying that about someone else, isn't it? But you should try that visualization again. You know, Sasuke is not at all unique in this village, in terms of experiences. You could say this is a city of orphans. I was too, you know. Everyone responds differently. Sasuke's turned inwards, trying to whittle down everything he thinks is not needed, until all that's left, hopefully, is strength. He's a dumb kid though, and actually less mature than even you. That's a brittle kind of strength he's seeking. At least you, well, girls really grow up faster at first."

Sakura thought about how hard that must be. Carving yourself down like a piece of wood. Didn't it hurt to slice away bits of yourself? She supposed that if she felt like she had open wounds all the time from trying to cut oneself down, she'd be touchy and a loner too.

"You know, the girl so many of you kids admire. Sakaki-chan. She feels empty inside, so she spends all her time trying to fill it up with the people she's come to care for."

Empty? How could Sempai be empty? She was amazing. She was stronger than the boys, the most beautiful of the girls, smart and tough and everything, boys and girls, could want to be. And when she thought nobody was paying attention, she was kind, and quiet. There was a stillness to her, a kind of elegance that was natural, unpracticed, unaffected.

"And that moron, Naruto. He hasn't decided who he is yet. Kind of like you. Except you can see hints of who you are and what you're becoming reflected back from how your parents treat you, and all your friends.

"Naruto - until this year, he had nobody. In the mornings, there's no one to wake him up and tell him he's going to be late to school. There's nobody to fix his breakfast or to pack a lunch for him. During breaks, he had no one to talk to before. When he goes home, there's no one waiting for him. There was no one to help him clean, or do groceries, or encourage him when he's feeling down, or to share his moods when he's feeling up.

"For Naruto, life is empty spaces in between the moments when people pay attention. Not so different from you as you think. For you, life is about the spaces filled with the people who care about you, in between stressful times when all you're thinking about are the tests you have to do well at, the things you have to study. But you're lonely too."

Sakura fiddled with her fingers, absently going through all the mudras she knew. She didn't know how to feel about all the stuff Sensei was saying. Her throat felt tight. Maybe, she wanted to cry again a little bit.

"How do you know all that?"

"Huh. Because I've been like Naruto, and I've been like Sasuke, and I've been like Sakaki-chan. And more than ten years ago, when I still had what you'd consider to be a normal family, I was just like you. Except, you know, with a cock."

Before she knew what she was doing, Sakura kicked the railing, hard. Iruka gracefully back-flipped off, grinning.

"Sensei! I was just starting to admire you and then you! Argh."

What was she doing anyway? Her parents were probably waiting for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Haruno-chan. You should take it slow, you know? Cherish these days. I see the way you look at Sasuke and Sakaki-chan. Don't be in such a hurry to grow up."

What was that about?

"Yeah, yeah." The words were dismissive, but really this small dose of alone time with Sensei was a lot to take in. She was dizzy, thinking about herself, trying to picture the kind of person she could be, or wanted to be, or could never be. Sakura paused at the stairway, looking down at her hands. They were soft and the fingers were long and slender. They were not hardened weapons like Sempai's.

"Last thing, brat.

"Right now, you're thinking, 'Do I have to be like her to get what I want?' - well, you don't want to be like her, and you can't anyway. Though she doesn't have some special bloodline ability, she has the perfect genetic potential to be a full combat ninja, and she trains as hard as anyone. Even if you trained twice as hard, you would not be able to get her reach, you would not have the same muscle reaction time, you would not get the same bone density. If you put your all into becoming strong, you'd probably be a decent fighter. But you still wouldn't match someone who is just as dedicated and more gifted for that role."

Sakura punched the door, sighed. That's what she thought. She thought of the few times the older classes had done demonstrations, recalled wincing as the teachers took pieces of solid oak as thick around as her forearm and slammed them into Sakaki-sempai's legs and arms and stared in wide-eyed awe as the wooden clubs shattered against her limbs. And that was after one of the Hyuuga students had sealed off Sempai's tenketsu, just to prove to them all that Sakaki was doing it without using any chakra to enhance her flesh and bones. Sakura had cringed when sempai had explained exercises she did to toughen up her hands. Some were relatively ordinary, such as doing push-ups on the first two knuckles of the hands, push-ups on the fingers, and practicing with a makiwara - a wooden board wrapped in heavy rope. And then there were the extreme ones, like driving her fists down into buckets full of packed uncooked grains, and striking her own knuckles with a hammer.

Taking a hammer to your own hands. How much self-control did that take, to steadily torture oneself for the sake of strength? Sakura's mother would screech if she ever saw her daughter doing something like that.

She shook her head, realized that Sensei was still talking to her.

"...more purposes than for combat. It's not all good. For example, because of all the hardening techniques Sakaki-chan uses on her body, as soon as anybody looks at her hands, they will know she is a fighter. Disguise techniques are only useful in the short term - for a long term deep cover assignment, Sakaki-chan could never pose as anything other than a fighter. Not even farmers and carpenters have hands that hard.

"Fighting will always be your weakness, and it's good to try to develop that area. What's more important, however, is to find your talents and focus on them. There are many ways.

"What will you be? I'm not sure yet. I do know you have it in you to be a great ninja, once you figure out how to use that brain of yours. Your own kind of ninja. It's up to you to find out what that is - and along the way, maybe you'll find what you're looking for, or find something better than what you once thought you wanted."

She leaned against the doorway. Sighed again.

"What did you want to be, Sensei? Are you what you always wanted to become?"

"Hrmm. Now that's a very long story. I'll tell you over sake, when you've just made chuunin."

The moon was hiding again, behind thick clouds. The hot air cooled very suddenly. She could taste rain in the air - maybe ten minutes from now. Better to go home and continue her moping and thinking there.

"Um, thanks, Sensei."

What was she thanking him for anyway? But as she walked down the endless steps in the shadowy school, she thought about how miserable she'd been since lunch, and maybe, she supposed, being around an idiot could make one feel better.