A/N: I laughed when I saw how many people were upset that Naruto got to have the bridge named after him. But he was the one who rallied the public in canon against the mercenaries and since canon still marches on, he is the one whom most people—with the exception of Tazuna and his crew—associate with the overthrow of Gatō. Hence the bridge in his name. After all, it wasn't named after Kakashi either and he was the one who defeated the actual threat and his reputation provided the real impetus for the mercenaries' surrender in canon.
Kill Your Heroes
-Chapter Ten-
Scopophobia (Part I)
She'd left with the ambition of spending time with Sasuke-kun.
She was returning with scars and the knives of a dead man and memories of combat, which made her feel like a stranger in her own home.
So it was that Sakura was very subdued as they headed to the mission office to be debriefed, even though Naruto was so excited that only Kakashi-sensei's none-too-discreet grip on his collar kept him from rushing ahead and announcing to all and sundry that he was Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage, and they'd already started naming bridges after him, believe it!
Sasuke-kun was just characteristically aloof, but judging by the force he'd put into thrusting his hands in his pockets, it was taking most of his self-control not to smack Naruto. Naruto hadn't really made an effort to rub it in specifically, that he'd come out far the better of his two teammates, but he'd done so much gloating in general and expounded at length about his grand plans for fame and Hokage-dom that he'd even earned a rebuke from Kakashi-sensei to "tone it down."
Sakura's stitches had been removed back in Wave, so the scar at the edge of her mouth was plainly visible. It had healed well, considering, and if it hadn't been on her face, she wouldn't have made much of a fuss about the thin pink line. But it felt like a brand, something that everyone could look at, read, and know things about her that she didn't want to share.
And, well, she was also a preteen girl who'd invested a lot of time and effort into her looks. Even if it didn't have such damaging memories associated with it, she wouldn't have liked to have people staring.
So Sakura was overly conscious of the scar, careful to keep her head down, hiding beneath the barrier of her shemagh.
It, at least, was something she didn't regret and she ran her fingers over the edge of it for comfort as they came inside the mission office. The Hokage himself was present again in the general missions room, just as he'd been the day they'd been issued the mission, though that was far from being always the case. Sakura couldn't have said if it bad luck or by design, but she shifted uneasily under the knowing, weighted gaze that swept over them, to land with fond indulgence on Naruto, who hadn't even waited for an acknowledgement to begin regaling everyone present with his version of the story.
Her eyes traveled to the right of the Hokage, to find Iruka-sensei on duty as well, while the other chunin sitting to the left was a stranger to her.
Her hand came up to clutch at her arm even as Naruto began to embellish his tale with broad gestures and sound effects. Her grip grew tighter as he came to her part, or at least the one that he knew, which made the attention of the chunin and the Hokage focus on her briefly. She tucked her chin in tighter and glanced away, turned her unmarked cheek toward them.
The Hokage must have found his retelling of events amusing, because he let him continue without interruption until it came to the point where he was just re-emphasizing that he was destined for greatness because there was already a bridge bearing his name.
"Well, it sounds like you had a very interesting time," the Sandaime said. "I expect that there's a much less exciting version of things in your report, Kakashi?"
"Aa," Kakashi-sensei agreed, unearthing a scroll and a packet from his pouch and handing it over to the Sandaime, who unrolled it in a practiced motion. They stood in relative patience and with varying levels of silence as he read through it, his expression inscrutable. "I see," he said at last. "Well, it was unfortunate that things turned out as they did. And, Kakashi, you were perhaps a little remiss in failing to update the village on the mission requiring reclassification. No one worried because you said you might keep your genin out for training, but I think this might have been a little excessive. Even if they sent along enough funds to pay the difference, you might have assumed that I would be a little hesitant in allowing genin to participate in an A-class mission."
"Hey, that's not fair gramps!" Naruto protested. "Weren't you listening? We did just fine!"
Sarutobi-sama sighed. "Regardless, this village has standards that will be adhered to. All of you will be paid as if this were an A-ranked mission and that's how it will go on your records, but don't expect that you'll be intentionally assigned any more missions like this until you're a proper rank. Now," and he clasped his hands over Kakashi-sensei's report, "I expect your own reports to be handed in no later than two days from now. I imagine you're all looking forward to seeing your beds again, so I won't keep you from it. Though I'm going to borrow a minute of your sensei's time. And Sakura-chan, if you could stay behind as well."
Sakura stared at the floor as Naruto glanced over at her curiously. "Why's Sakura-chan gotta stay behind?" he demanded.
He was rewarded by Kakashi-sensei's fist coming down on his head somewhat less-than-gently. "I think that's enough blatant disrespect for today," he said wryly. "Shoo."
Naruto scowled up at Kakashi-sensei but did as he was told, while Sasuke-kun had walked away without a second glance when the Hokage had dismissed them.
Both the chunin were casting sideways glances at the Hokage, obviously wondering the same thing as Naruto but too respectful to outright demand answers.
"Sakura-chan, your sensei reports that even though this was your first mission outside the village, during the course of the mission you killed four men while defending the bridgebuilder."
Sakura wished that Iruka-sensei's surprise wasn't so obvious, the way he jerked his head around to stare at the Hokage before turning back to her, eyes still wide. Even the other chunin looked a little unnerved. "Yes, sir," she answered quietly.
"He also reports that he has already spoken to you about the experience, but I have some knowledge of what Kakashi considers adequately dealing with bothersome things like emotions. We do have counselors available for you, if you need them."
Sakura drew in a deep, unsteady breath, but she met the Hokage's gaze squarely. "I understand, sir."
She had no intention of seeking them out. Perhaps if they'd returned immediately to the village, back when the nightmares were at their worst and she was newer to them, she might have. But she could sleep more or less through the night now, even if it worked best when she was weighted down by exhaustion, and she couldn't imagine letting a stranger prod at her personal fears.
She was a little surprised when the Hokage rose, the two chunin rising with him. Tucking his hands inside his sleeves, Sarutobi inclined his head, the two chunin bowing more deeply from the waist. "The village thanks you for your service, Haruno Sakura," the Hokage told her gravely, the chunin rising only when he'd finished speaking. "Though I am sorry that it had to come so early in your career."
Sakura could only nod around a knot of complicated emotions, bowing to the Hokage before leaving Kakashi-sensei to face an actual debriefing. She didn't know whether or not he'd be reprimanded for his actions, but for the moment she was only glad she'd only had to revisit Wave in a written report. And that report was already finished, though she'd been too eager in her escape to hand it in.
She made her way home instead, using the rooftop paths for the very first time. Once, she'd thought it would make her feel like a "real" ninja, but after Wave, it seemed like less of a milestone than it once had. Though it was a strange sort of feeling, to soar above the crowded streets and see her home from a different point of view.
Sakura stopped at her neighbor's home before actually returning to her own. Miwa-san—who'd been her mother's close friend in the Academy and remained so once they graduated—had promised to housesit and collect the mail while Sakura was away. Sakura had long since learned to view her as a kind of aunt, given that she'd looked after her while her parents were away after her Baba had passed. She allowed herself to be briefly enveloped in a hug before pulling away and offering an excuse to avoid being invited to dinner. Miwa-san's two young sons, when combined, had about the same amount of tact as Naruto and Sakura had no desire to answer a lot of questions, not even for a homecooked meal.
She let herself in to the empty house with a sigh of relief, shuffling curiously through the mail. When she found a letter from her mother, she ripped it open eagerly, photos spilling out. Sakura laughed at the pictures of her mother posing with hawk chicks small enough to fit in her cupped hands, her habitual serious expression nowhere to be seen. She was grinning widely at the camera, the lines bracketing her mouth less noticeable, making her look years younger.
Sakura suddenly missed her mother fiercely, as she hadn't for a long time. Her mother was a career chunin who handled the messenger birds that formed one of the major communication networks both in the village and outside it, so it wasn't as if she lived in fear of a message announcing that her mother had died in combat. But her specialty was breeding and training the fierce, powerful hawks that saw the most use in inter-village and border communications, which meant that most of her time was spent at one of the border stations.
It wasn't as if it was a particularly unusual story. Being a shinobi meant being willing to accommodate the needs of the village and while Haruno Mebuki was occasionally transferred back to the central aviary in the village proper, she shared that rotation with several other ninja just as eager to see their families again. When Sakura had been very young, she'd taken a position that she hadn't enjoyed nearly as much in order to be with her daughter, but once Sakura had been old enough to enroll in the Academy, she'd returned to her former position. Sakura had been left primarily in the care of her father's mother, who'd lived with them for as long as she could remember, and after she'd died there'd been Miwa-san.
So it wasn't as if this was something new or unexpected, but there was a strange sense of betrayal lurking in the corners of her mind. Her parents had always carefully made time for the major events in her life and she was filled with a sense that this shouldn't have been any different. As if, somehow, her mother should have sensed that something was amiss and been waiting for her, ready to—
Even Sakura didn't know how to finish that sentence. Make everything alright again, maybe. Not to ask questions, but not to not ask questions. Some impossible thing was what she wanted of her mother.
But her mother wasn't here and, judging by the content of her letter, might not be home again until the new year. And even if she didn't have some vague recollection of the details of A-class missions having to be sent using some method other than regular post, and requiring some sort of permission besides, it wasn't something she wanted to say in writing. I killed a man today, mother...
Not when she finally understood why her parents had been both proud and worried when Kakashi-sensei had been introduced to them as her teacher.
She would have settled for her father's reassuring presence, but Haruno Kizashi's jovial, charismatic nature and ability to project an air of "harmless civilian" served him well in his career in intelligence-gathering, which meant that while he didn't have a permanent posting like her mother, he came and went with little notice. He might be home tomorrow or he might reappear with gifts and a profuse apology months later.
Like her mother, he was also a career chunin, his missions running less in the vein of plots to overthrow the daimyo and more in the way of confirming or denying the extramarital habits of wealthy people, which to hear him tell it, could be more dangerous than you'd expect. But, so far at least, he'd always come home safe and sound.
But he wasn't here now.
So, without parents' arms to throw herself into, Sakura spent the rest of the day catching up on the domestic tasks she usually resented. But somehow, something so utterly everyday as vacuuming seemed to ground her a little. She was in the village and that meant a certain measure of safety. Not permanent, not absolute, because there would be missions that would take her away from it again, but it was hard to imagine being attacked by anything worse than errant insect life in the halls that had been familiar to her since childhood.
She slept easier that night than she had in weeks, even though she found the silence a little unnerving after having shared a room with so many others for so long.
[Kill Your Heroes]
She dropped off her remaining qipao dresses to be cut down and freshly tailored early the next morning, then spent the next several hours finding a perfect, shorter-but-not-too-short overskirt to wear over her shorts, as well as tall boots to protect her much-abused shins. Running laps in the Academy yard hadn't really prepared her for the reality of running briers, which Pakkun insisted built dexterity.
Once she saw the price of a good pair, she was glad for the latest addition to her bank account, because she had one last stop even when she'd accomplished all the shopping she meant to do that day. Clutching the paper that contained directions in Kakashi-sensei's surprisingly neat handwriting, Sakura navigated streets slightly more unfamiliar to her. Many of the smaller retailers of shinobi goods and specialized services didn't even allow Academy students inside and with the ongoing cold war between Ino and herself, there hadn't been much reason to window-shop alone.
But she finally reached her destination, shifting her packages uncomfortably and reflecting that it might have been wiser to come here first.
The storefront, such as it is, wasn't one that would have attracted her attention on its own. For one, there weren't windows with goods on display, just a sign above the door that identified it as being a place of business. And it wasn't a descriptive name, either. Just 'Hasekura', almost as plain as one that might have identified a residence.
As Sakura cautiously opened the door, a bell jingled, but there was no immediate cry of welcome, which made her very hesitant about going further in. But there was plenty to see, even from where she lingered in front of the door. Lighted glass display cases housed fine leatherwork, while a more prosaic line of sheathes and pouches and complicated harness systems were on display along the walls.
It wasn't a very large store, nor did it have much in the way of decoration; "utilitarian" seemed to be the guiding principle.
She wasn't made to wait very long, as a man emerged from a door in the back of the shop, sweeping aside the unadorned blue noren. He was about half a head taller than Kakashi-sensei, with a head of disheveled ruddy brown hair, a square jaw with rough stubble on his chin, and a solid build. He was not what she'd expected.
"You look lost, kiddo," he observed. "What can I do for you?"
His voice was just as rough as he looked. "Um, my sensei told me come here and follow your advice," she explained awkwardly.
"And who is your sensei?"
"Hatake Kakashi."
His eyes widened faintly in recognition, then his face settled into less neutral lines. As they were pleased lines, it made him slightly less intimidating. "Ah. Did more work with his father than Kakashi, but alright. Show me what you've got."
Sakura blinked at his directness, before glancing down at her bags and, coming to a quick decision, leaning them against one of the display cases. She kept only one with her. She'd carried it out of the house this morning and kept it close to her all day, as the knives she'd brought with her out of Wave were too long to fit in her usual kit.
She'd wrapped them in an old towel to keep them from destroying the bag and as her fingers brushed over the cold metal edges as she freed them, Sakura had to repress a shudder. But then they were swept out of her hand as the man - she supposed he must be Hasekura-san - looked them over.
At his clearly dubious look at the discolored one, she said, "Kakashi-sensei said it was probably mostly cosmetic." Not quite certain what to do with the empty bag, she laid it across her other things. And then shuffled them awkwardly as she waited for Hasekura-san to finish his inspection.
"I assume these hilts were wrapped. I can replace that, no problem—nylon cording might be best," he murmured to himself.
She nearly jumped back when he crouched suddenly, laying the knives to one side and fishing measuring tape, pad, and pencil from his pocket. "Hold still," he said curtly and Sakura, used to obeying instructions, did as she was told. "You're displaying better judgment than most with these," he told her as he took measurements with a brisk, impersonal efficiency. "You don't want anything longer than this, not unless you get significantly taller. And I wouldn't recommend anything with more curve."
"...um, why?" she asked cautiously.
He sat down his tools and took up her knives, flipping them deftly so that they were hilt-up, then held them so that they were pressed against the outside of her thighs, something possible only because she'd shed her kunai pouches for the day's shopping trip. The tip of the blade came to just above her knee, while the hilt hit below the widest point of her hips.
"The thing about knives is that you can't keep them in your hands forever. So you've either got to seal them or sheathe them and the thing about scrolls is that they're a few seconds more work than having them in your hand. Once you get to swords and bigger things, you sometimes get fools convinced that bigger is better and you end up having to sheathe them on your back."
"...and that's bad?"
"As a samurai in armor? Maybe not, depending on how fast you can get that thing off your back, and here's to hoping your opponent waits for you to do it. As a shinobi? Your spine bends. That blade won't. And if you aren't using chakra, it's going to be secured at two points, top and bottom. Imagine trying to do a forward roll like that. So you lose a lot of flexibility. Same thing with a horizontal sheathe at the waist. You have that overhang, which will catch on things when you least want it to. But these are just about perfect. See how neatly they set flush without overlapping anywhere you need to bend? That's what you want. I can make you a rig for these, no problem. Integrated kunai and shuriken storage too."
He quoted her a price that was actually lower than she was expecting and he must have read her surprise in her features. His hand came down on a knee and he let out a gusty sigh as he shoved himself to his feet. "I'm selling you your everyday rig, not the one you'd wear while guarding the daimyo. It's not going to be handtooled leather. In fact, it's not going to be any kind of leather. I don't recommend leather for field use, even though I'll make exceptions if you're doing guard duty somewhere where you need to impress some nobles. Leather makes you sweat, for one, and it's hard to maintain for another. If you don't watch, it'll mold and it'll make your blades rust. I use nylon, which is much faster and easier to work, though I'll reinforce where the tip rests and the lip of the sheathe. And it's easy for you to clean, too. It will wear out, because you ninja are hell on your equipment regardless on how rugged I make it, so I get a lot of repeat customers. No point in driving them away by charging more than fair price. So, you in, kiddo? Because if you say yes now, I can have them done in time to test out before the exams."
"Exams?" Sakura asked blankly.
"Chunin exams," Hasekura-san explained. "I figured that'd be the reason Kakashi was sending you here alone, rather than bringing you here in his own damn time. So, yes or no?"
The answer, of course, was yes.
