DISCLAIMER: Naruto is property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Edited: 29/03/2021

The Leaves of the Tree

9.

'Come on, assholes, I know you're out there.'

Sakura crouched in her hiding spot for close to ten hours, now. Her muscles hurt from being tensed for so long and her chakra pathways positively burned from the prolonged strain of continuously circulating small, measured amounts of chakra throughout. If nothing came of this stakeout, at least it was a torturous exercise in both chakra control and its use, not to mention patience. Sakura knew from the telltale tingling in her stomach that her reserves were stretched rather than on the verge of collapsing, which meant they'd grown at least a little bit.

The long wait gave her time to nibble on her meager supplies and fill up on what chakra she'd wasted before. It also allowed Sakura too much time to plan. Kakashi-sensei didn't teach her much offensive genjutsu, he was visibly put off by the thought of Sakura pursuing anybody with the intent to do irreparable harm – strange, considering it would most definitely be demanded of her eventually – but he was unwilling to leave her completely defenseless.

So Kakashi-sensei taught her how to bend her surroundings, how to manipulate the illusion without those trapped inside knowing they were controlled; guided by outside forces, their freedom of choice rendered essentially useless as they could only choose from predetermined options. Kakashi-sensei drilled Sakura on how to make these options favorable to her alone, on how to coax her opponents into picking the one least advantageous for them in any situation, on how to cover up for any slip she could make.

Kakashi-sensei may have prepared Naruto to be the brawn of the team, and he may have put the most effort into grooming Sasuke's genius, but he recognized Sakura as the brain – and he made sure she knew how to utilise every single one of her 168 IQ points to guarantee she came out on top. Sakura was no Shikamaru by any means, but her innate spitefulness, groomed by years of prolonged exposure to Ino's own particular brand, more than made up for it.

'C'mon,' she thought angrily, 'just a little closer, you know you want a piece of this.'

'Oh they don't,' Inner Sakura snickered, much darker than her counterpart. 'I'm gonna let 'em have it.'

And she would, too. Sakura had planted some especially nasty things from Naruto's sealing scroll in the ground, completely under the influence of her more violent inner personality. If anyone stepped onto Inner's traps, they won't be injured like they would be by Sakura's, no. They'd explode into pieces. Sakura considered making all traps so deadly, but she didn't have the supplies. Naruto's sealing scroll was barely accessible for her. She got what she could and thanked her luck the damned thing didn't absorb her, instead. It could've happened – Sasuke was absorbed on one occasion, and Naruto took his sweet time pulling him out.

'Come on, come on, come on, dammit!'

Two figures crept closer. From her vantage point, the real Sakura could see them clearly but her illusion on the ground couldn't, giving off an aura of utter incompetence and fear. Exactly as Sakura had planned.

One was a girl, not much older than herself. She had long, thick dark hair, very obviously groomed – much more so than Sakura's own. Or, at least, her illusion's hair. She couldn't be bothered with vanity when producing it, frankly. The other was a boy with spiky dark hair and an entirely unremarkable face. They had strange forehead protectors, engraved with a single note.

The girl's eyes had locked onto the fake Sakura, and her lips curled in distaste.

'Hook,' Sakura thought calmly.

"You're shitting me," The girl snarled.

'Line,' Sakura allowed herself to smile, a little.

"This is what passes for shinobi around here?!"

'And sinker, bitch.'

Kin couldn't believe her eyes.

She really, truly, honest to the gods above, couldn't.

'Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?' she thought as her eyes took in the enemies Orochimaru-sama wanted to be removed. Well, just one of them.

She was tiny. Kin knew the girl was fourteen, they were informed as much by that rat, Kabuto. But no fourteen years old she ever met was that short. That skinny. That… flat. This in itself wasn't the reason for Kin's bewilderment, though. It was the girl's smooth, fair skin. No scars, no blemishes, not even a single thrice-damned pimple. Not even a freckle, which was practically unheard of during summer in the Land of fucking Fire. It was the girl's pink hair that fell to her waist, and despite the dust and grime that covered the rest of her remained shiny and pretty and so completely unbecoming of any sort of kunoichi it made Kin's skin crawl.

But most of all it was the circle on the girl's back, over what remained of her tattered shirt.

Kin knew that circle. How could she not? It was the symbol of that clan. The snobbish, rich, disgusting civilian clan that held all the merchants in the capital by the balls and dictated what was what, who was who and everything else. The clan that bought her father's business and kicked them out of Fire Country. The reason they immigrated to Sound. Why she joined Orochimaru-sama in the first place – out of fear, out of hunger, out of desperation.

That damn Haruno Clan.

Hate bubbled in the pit of Kin's stomach, followed by jealousy over the little chit's quality clothing and equipment. The girl turned around then, and Kin was met with frightened wide green eyes, an almost drop-shaped face, with a round forehead and sharp chin, and once again – smooth, unblemished skin.

Of course.

Of course, the Haruno bitch would be pretty.

Kin snapped and lunged, incapable of holding herself back any longer, and Zaku let her, the bastard. He was smirking, too. Could probably read Kin like an open book, could smell just how pissed off she was at the mere sight.

After all, any femininity was beaten out of her by Otogakure's system, all but her hair. Her skin, hidden under her uniform, was marred with several scars, and blemishes, and burns. Only Kin's face was spared, in exchange for her body. In more ways than one.

As expected, the weak little thing didn't notice Kin until she'd delivered a kick straight to the side of the bint's head. There was a crack, probably the Haruno bitch's jaw, and the girl crashed against a tree on the farther side of the clearing. She was visibly shaken, and dazed from the hit. Briefly, Kin wondered if she'd caused a concussion, but then decided she didn't care. Here was an opportunity to beat up a Haruno – to take out years of frustrations directly on the source – and she was a Konoha kunoichi to boot! In the fucking Chunin Exams.

It's like Orochimaru-sama has handed Kin an early birthday gift, neatly wrapped up with a bow and message to have at it.

And she meant to. Kin intended to grind this pathetic excuse for a kunoichi to mush, simply for existing. Her exitence was insulting, more so than anything else Kin has ever encountered. As Zaku chortled from the sidelines, where he kept an eye on the two passed out meat bags, Kin proceeded to bash the pink-haired scum around, and each punch she delivered made her breathe easier. Made her feel alive.

'What an Idiot,' Sakura thought dryly.

'You can say that again,' Inner Sakura agreed, thoroughly unimpressed. 'Both of them. They didn't scan for traps!'

'Nope,'

The black haired girl had, inevitably, triggered a trap suring her rampage against a non-existent opponent. When one of Sakura's hidden shuriken shot out and grazed the girl's face, her already disturbing hostility shot through the metaphorical roof and she threw what little caution has been employed away.

As the girl rampaged below, to the sound of her companion's wild laughter, Sakura withdrew a single needle from her weapon pouch and carefully took aim. Sfter ten hours, she'd be loath to mess up all of her careful planning, so Sakura waited patiently for the right moment, all the while circulating a little bit more chakra than usual through her fingertips. Granted, the needle was poisoned as dictated in all guidebooks, but Sakura wanted to make sure it hit deep. So deep it wouldn't be possible to take out and the paralysis would be complete.

Finally, the moment came.

The girl slammed the illusion face-first into the forest ground, grabbed a handful of dirty pink hair and hauled it up to lean against her chest in a mockery of an embrace. The ilusion's face was a swollen, purple mess, with blood, snot and tears oozing out and making her seem even more pathetic than Sakura believed possible. After all, she'd copied it off herself as she was fresh out of the academy.

'Hit the mark or so help me!' Sakura thought and, with chakra laden fingers, flicked the needle.

Two things happened simultaneously.

The needle shot out, the metal glinted in the little light available under the trees and drew the attention of the boy. He immediately lunged at Sakura's hideout and she quickly withdrew, letting go of her genjutsu in favor of focusing on the very real fight she suddenly found herself in.

The girl hit the ground with a thud and didn't move anymore. From the corner of her eye, Sakura saw the very tip of her needle stick out of a profusely bleeding eyeball.

'Bullseye, literally!' Inner Sakura cheered, overly proud of their little achievement.

Sakura didn't reply, too preoccupied with the boy attempting to beat her senseless. After knowing Rock Lee for well over a year and even training with him nearly weekly, Sakura had no problem reading the boy's movements or keeping up with his speed. He was stronger than her, as was expected, but Sakura could still block most of his punches and kicks. She even landed several of her own, in useful areas Sasuke had shown her once, when he felt particularly friendly. The boy grunted and pushed on. Sakura grit her teeth and slowly felt herself go on the defensive.

It wasn't that the boy suddenly revealed some sort of hidden talent in Taijutsu. He didn't have any sort of talent for the craft, Sakura deduced as much. Frankly, had she been physically stronger she would've leveled him by now. It was his moves that became the problem. The shift was gradual, a surprise here, a sudden change there, and Sakura found herself facing a situation where the asshole's movements were impossible to follow. It made no sense! His body was clearly following standard maneuvers, taught to all shinobi, without any sort of finesse, but instead of ending up where Sakura knew he should, the boy would shift out of nowhere and slam her. He didn't even touch her to deliver the hit, which made Sakura confident their fight had shifted out of the realms of taijutsu and into something else, and she didn't like her chances.

For one thing, Sakura's chakra was stretched thin, on the point of being extinguished entirely, from constantly feeding the genjutsu that kept her boys hidden. She wasn't about to let up on it, either, which undoubtedly meant chakra exhaustion of the more severe kind was in her future. She only hoped it would come after at least one of them woke up. Please.

The other thing was the boy's foul mouth. He'd not stopped swearing at Sakura from the moment he laid eyes on her. He cursed, he mocked, he deliberately sought out any flaw the boy could think of and latched on – and it began to piss her off. Some of the things he hissed about normally didn't bother her; in fact, Sakura was quite proud of how soft her hands were despite her profession, thank you. It took a lot of effort, damn it. But having every bit of you deliberately insulted during an intense fight was bound to make anyone's temper flare, and Sakura… well, maybe she'll take her mother up on that anger management course if she survived this.

The third was the unbearable sensation of being watched, still, even though Sakura couldn't see anyone. Couldn't sense an obvious presence, though she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, they were being watched. Had been, unceasingly, from the moment they entered the forest, and not by the proctors. The memory of hard yellow eyes made Sakura's moves jerkier and clumsier than normal, but it also turned them stronger, as she was desperate to get out. To tell Kakashi-sensei what happened. To hug her friends and know they were finally safe.

'Break his face! Shannaro!' Inner Sakura shrieked, outraged. The boy had started on their forehead.

Sakura was bruised and hurt in places she didn't even know could be reached in hand-to-hand combat. She was tired, so tired she was about to pass out. Her chakra reserve was almost empty, to the point continuing to hold up any of her genjutsu would be life threatening. There was blood pouring out of a cut above her left eyebrow, and it made seeing difficult. She was pretty sure the boy sprained her left shoulder, too, if not dislocated it entirely. She had several needles piercing her right thigh and couldn't step well on either foot anymore – her soles felt raw and tender, too much to walk comfortably. The worst part was Sakura's tight braids had begun to unravel. That never happened before. The boy was eyeing the long strands of pink hair – longer than the illusion's by far – calculatingly, as if he was considering strangling Sakura with them, or something.

'If he touches our hair,' Sakura thought menacingly, 'I'll kill him. Even if it kills me.'

'The hair's where we draw the line,' Inner Sakura agreed ferociously.

Sakura loved her hair. Not because of Sasuke supposedly liking long hair, not anymore. She loved it because her mother combed it gently and braided it back for her every morning. Ino would twist small flowers into it whenever Sakura helped in the Yamanaka shop, and wax poetic about how easy it was to match pink with nice flowers, unlike pale blonde. Hinata tied Sakura's hair up into a traditional updo for two festivals now, her touch gentle and her smile fond, as she told Sakura the color really was pretty on her. Tenten taught Sakura new ways to braid it every time they met, enthusiastically checking and rechecking how many shades could be counted in each style. Naruto slept with his hands grasping at any loose strands when they were on prolonged missions, Kakashi sensei helped Sakura tie it back then too and even Sasuke would occasionally brush an escaped lock behind her ear, with an exasperated look.

Sakura's hair was important, goddamit, so when that stupid boy, with his unkempt mop of dark spikes, reached a grabby hand and pulled on her little vain treasure, from the very roots, Sakura let out an infuriated shriek worthy of a banshee. She would've strangled him right then, fueled by a never before felt intent to hurt, to maim, to kill the idiot – but her limbs wouldn't move. They'd turned to jelly from exhaustion.

The boy was startled by her screech and abruptly let Sakura go. He was obviously unused to female hissy fits. Had she known, she would've taken advantage of it. As it was, all Sakura could do was collapse to her knees in exhaustion and sag in relief – not because she thought the boy would leave her alone now, no. Because her shriek did something else, too. The boys of Team 7 were, after all, quite familiar with this particular sound and they never failed to react to it. It was with fond, relieved eyes that Sakura watched Sasuke – his own expression wild with worry, probably for his own safety – descend the tree where she'd hid him and Naruto.

Sasuke's eyes took in the situation and the more he watched, the more stoic he became. After so long on a team together Sakura knew it meant he was getting angrier by the second, and that didn't bode well for the boy who was standing a few steps behind her, watching Sasuke intently. Then, Sasuke looked at her, took in the blood, the bruises, the swollen bits of Sakura's usually clean and unmarred face. He saw the needles in her thigh, Sakura's awkward posture and her loosened braids. Sasuke's face twisted into something so ugly, it gave Sakura pause.

"Sakura," Sasuke all but snarled, "who did this to you?"

Black tendrils were crawling up Sasuke's neck, and though a sense of foreboding filled her stomach with uneasiness, Sakura raised a shaky arm and pointed at the boy, who was still standing there – oozing confidence.

'He should run,' Inner Sakura thought, quieter than normal. 'Mistress Uchiha is pissed.'

'Thank god Naruto's still out,' Was all Sakura could think to reply as Sasuke descended on the boy.

From that point, Sakura only heard curses, threats and then loud, shrill screams. None in Sasuke's voice. Then she closed her eyes and fainted.

It'll be okay now.