CHAPTER I: SCHOOL'S OUT

Sakura fiddled with the shark tooth on her necklace and bit her lip, anxiously awaiting her new sensei. All of her friends' sensei had come and gone, leaving Sakura with the loud-mouthed knucklehead and the fratricidal mute. Though she was glad to be on a team with Sasuke, she would have loved to have been paired with Hinata and Kurenai-sensei, even if it would have meant working with Kiba or Shino. Shino wasn't nearly as annoying as Kiba but Sakura could not get passed the fact that his skin was literally crawling with bugs.

When Sakura was a child, Inoichi-san had trapped her in a mostly-benign genjutsu for lying to him and then immediately taught her how to break it. She had been intrigued ever since, but as neither of her parents were genjutsu-types, and the Academy barely taught anything concerning chakra control, she hadn't progressed at all since then. She had considered asking Inoichi-san to continue teaching her, but he had gotten busier and busier over the years and barely had time to train Ino, let alone Sakura. Kurenai-sensei would have been ideal to continue Sakura's training, not to mention that she was the most fabulous kunoichi Sakura had ever laid eyes on.

And it was unfortunate that Ino-Shika-Cho was never going to split up because she and Ino worked well together, and their friendly rivalry only spurred them to new and higher levels of expertise. And Choji was so nice and respectful and Shikamaru had an analytical mind that made Sakura green with jealousy. Speaking of which, Sakura had turned even greener when she saw how handsome Asuma-sensei was. Even Ino had blushed, and the girl had been shamelessly flirting with every man she met since she learned to bat her eyelashes when she was two years old.

"Our sensei is an elite ninja. You think he'd fall for that?" Sasuke derided, wondering how the hell he had ended up with these two...nobodies as his teammates. Yeah, Sakura had the best grades in the classroom, but her grades in field work were worse than Naruto's. Would his sensei be just as incompetent? He could barely afford to have a couple of deadweights as teammates, he couldn't afford to have one for a sensei, too. And if his sensei wasn't a deadweight, Sasuke couldn't afford to piss him off in their first meeting.

"It's what he gets for showing up late!" Naruto said as he finished placing the eraser between the door and the frame. "Everyone else has already met their sensei and is on a cool adventure!"

Sakura thought that was fair, but still gave a half-hearted warning. "You're asking for trouble, you know."

"It's worth a try, believe it! Surprise~!"

"Not if he makes us run laps around the village as punishment." Sakura pointed out, going cross-eyed as she tried to inspect the small notch she could feel in the tooth without removing her necklace.

The rope holding the shark's tooth was gray and slightly frayed, having replaced the original black one two years ago. Sakura had considered repairing the black one–it was a gift, after all–but, at Ino's behest, chose something that wasn't so stark against her pale skin.

"If he does, you can ride on my back." Naruto grinned wide at her, his blue eyes dancing with mirth and his hands clasped behind his blond head. He loved getting a rise out of Sakura, partly because he liked seeing her worked up–she was just so pretty!–but mostly because it guaranteed that her attention would be on him. Sure, her fists hurt, but not as much as being ignored.

"Pervert!" She smacked his chest hard.

Couldn't he just keep his damn mouth shut? He never ceased to say or do something to make her hit him: jumping out from behind things to scare her, making crude comments, pulling her hair. She hated it, and she hated him and his stupid blue eyes and blond hair and creepy smile. Honestly, just his existence set her edge.

"Take it down, loser."

Three full sentences in less than thirty-seconds? That was the most Sakura had heard Sasuke say all week. He seemed to reserve his words for demeaning Naruto, and Naruto seemed to reserve his loudest volume for disagreeing with Sasuke.

"Make me, bastard!"

"Don't yell at Sasuke!"

Self-respect, Outter-Me, Inner Sakura whined. Self-respect!

Sakura had an undeniable compulsion to protect Sasuke from anything or anyone unpleasant–which Naruto surely was–and so had been acting as buffer between Sasuke and Naruto since their first day at the Academy. The problem was that Sasuke seriously resented her thinking that he needed protection, so she had quickly adapted to make him, and everyone else, think that it was because she was in love with him, not because she thought he was inept.

In reality, she knew –on a much smaller scale–how death could affect a person. Personality changes, nightmares, anxiety. She had no proof that he was experiencing these things but she didn't care–she was going to take care of him as if he were and whether or not he liked it.

Of course, there was another reason, but she couldn't let it be discovered. Ever.

Inner loathed this adaptation, arguing that there were plenty of more respectable ways of throwing suspicion off of her motives than pretending to be a lovesick fool, and it wasn't too late to start employing them. What really made Inner mad was that Sakura had fallen for her own ruse and had actually become lovesick for real, and it made Inner want to puke.

Sakura would argue that it was impossible not to love someone you were taking care of.

"Let him fight his own battles!" Naruto growled at Sakura, not for the first time. He hated that she always took Sasuke's side, even when the jerk was being a jerk! Naruto was determined to break her down. One of these days, she was going to acknowledge him and ignore Sasuke. It was second-in-importance only to his mission to become Hokage.

"Battle?" Sasuke scoffed. "You couldn't lay a hand on me."

Naruto was half a second away from launching himself at Sasuke when their sensei walked into the classroom.

Two hours late.

Naruto guffawed and clutched his stomach as the eraser fell atop the man's wild, silver hair, dust becoming a cloud around his head.

Sakura cringed at the nails-on-chalkboard sound that was Naruto's laugh but Inner thrust her fist into the air and yelled, Bulls-eye!

Sasuke didn't bother to hide his disgust, one of the few emotions he ever displayed, and the only one he displayed freely.

It took Sakura less than a second after she finished cringing to realize that she knew this man who was to be her sensei–sort of. And he didn't particularly like her. And, well...she didn't particularly like him, either.

They had crossed paths at the Memorial Stone several times over the years, including this morning. He never stuck around when she showed up, and the few times that he had been the one to interrupt her, Sakura had forgone her own ritual in order to allow him his. This morning had been one of those times and while she had resented his inability to share the space, she was now glad that she hadn't abandoned the rules of conduct and decorum she had been taught in regards to her elders and to her superiors. Had she dug her heels in like she'd wanted to this morning, this meeting would probably go a lot worse than it was already on track to go.

Their sensei glared at each of them in turn with his one uncovered eye, then flatly asked, "And whose idea was this?"

Naruto stopped laughing and sheepishly raised his hand.

Sakura blushed and looked at her feet; she hated being on a sensei's bad-side.

Sasuke looked out the window with a, "Hn."

"I see. My first impression of this group is that I hate you."

Sakura thought that was a bit extreme for this small interaction; surely he would need a few more minutes before he truly hated them.

Up on the roof, Kakashi listened to Naruto rant about becoming Hokage, thinking that the kid had grown up in an…interesting way–as loud and as obnoxious as his stupid track suit. Orange? Seriously–what the fuck?

Kakashi thought–briefly–that if he didn't like the way the kid had grown up, he should have taken part in raising him, but that thought didn't even consciously register before it was sucked behind the walls that Kakashi had built to house his demons, and there it would remain.

If he had known when he woke up this morning that his sensei's son would be his student, Kakashi wouldn't have gotten out of bed. As it was, he had barely gotten out of bed anyway. It was getting more and more difficult by the day and Gai and Genma had started showing up more often in the past few weeks under the guise of having breakfast with him and getting in a morning spar.

Kakashi was sure that Gai had something to do with the Hokage forcing him to be a sensei. Gai was constantly going on about his team and probably thought that Kakashi could get the same kind of energizing jump from a team of his own. Fortunately, Kakashi had yet to meet a team that could pass the bell test, which meant that he would remain active-duty ANBU. He knew the black ops unit was taking its toll on him, that he needed to get out soon, but he was sure that it was still better than babysitting genin.

He tuned Naruto out and looked at his other two students: Uchiha Sasuke and…that pink-haired girl who sometimes intruded on his time at the
Memorial Stone. What was her name?

"Your turn, Sakura!"

Kakashi barely stifled his snort–could her parents have been any more obvious? There clearly wasn't a lot of creativity flowing in those genes. And again, with the damn colors! Red? Red? It was worse than orange! Tied, maybe. No, combined with her ridiculous hair, red was definitely worse.

"Oh, uh, I'm Haruno Sakura. I like..." She trailed off thoughtfully then she blushed and her eyes darted to Sasuke. "Eek! Uh, I mean who I like–no, uh, I like mani-pedis!" She said in a panic, then turned to her blond teammate with hard eyes. "I hate Naruto!"

"EH?!"

"My dream is to...uh..."

"Thank you, Sakura." Kakashi nodded once, cutting her off.

Kakashi clenched his jaw; girls her age were always more interested in boys than being ninja, and Kakashi didn't think he could keep up his pretense of mysterious and all-knowing sensei if she said her dream was to have the perfect husband. Sometimes he wondered why girls were allowed to become kunoichi so young. In Kakashi's experience, they had difficulty focusing; didn't know how to control their emotions; and had no idea that silence was golden. Hell, even many adult kunoichi had those problems. Some of the shinobi, too.

When Kakashi finished his thoughts, Sakura and Naruto were staring nervously at Sasuke as he radiated killing-intent while he spoke of killing a "certain someone;" like it wasn't obvious who. Kakashi, though, remembered Uchiha Itachi well, and in comparison, his kid-brother was as intimidating as a fruit fly. Kakashi repressed a shiver at the thought of Itachi: the kid had always given Kakashi the creeps, and the fact that he'd been able to slaughter every member of his clan by himself meant he'd been even more powerful than anyone knew. Not to mention stone-cold.

Not that any of this mattered, anyway: of all the teams Kakashi had failed, Team 7 was the most likely to fail spectacularly, and then he could go back to ANBU or take solo missions until the next round of sub-par graduates were assigned. It was so easy to fail teams based on thinking and acting like a team when the Academy did nothing but pit them against one another.

"Now that all that's out of the way, let's talk about tomorrow," Kakashi said forebodingly, hamming it up in order to resist the urge to end his misery with a kunai to the brain.

As Sakura laid on her green bedspread, watching her red curtains with golden swirls swish in the breeze from her window, she couldn't help but contemplate her karma.

On the one hand, she had been placed on a team with Sasuke, ensuring that she could continue to watch over him. On the other hand, she had been placed on a team with Naruto, ensuring that her every nerve would be frayed by the end of every day. On the other, other hand, her sensei was the Copy-Ninja, and on the other, other, other hand, the Copy-Ninja didn't like her.

While that had been fine with her when she only saw him on occasion and didn't actually know who he was, he was her sensei now, and she would have to find a way into his good graces. She had noticed some dog hair on his uniform, so maybe she could get something for the animal?
Or, like, offer to groom it or something? Everything she knew about dogs she learned from Kiba and his family's dogs were as weird as he was.
But...maybe that was normal for dogs? Maybe–

"Sakura~!"

Sakura shot up from her bed and ran to the top of the stairs, stopping for only a moment of surprise before grinning ear to ear and bounding down the steps into her father's arms. "Dad! You're home early!"

Haruno Kizashi wasn't a big man but he had always seemed so to Sakura. This was partially because his dark pink hair was styled in a star around his head that added several inches to his height. But it was also because of his jovial personality and round-ish belly.

"Your mother lost rock, paper, scissors." Kizashi smiled brightly, the lines across his face growing deeper. "We couldn't both miss your first day as a genin. Tell me about your team!"

Sakura's gut lurched a little and she wondered how he would react. Her mom certainly wasn't going to be happy when she got home tomorrow.

"It wasn't that big a deal." Sakura shrugged as she pulled away from him. "I was assigned a team, we met with our sensei, and we're meeting up for training in the morning."

"Come on!" Kizashi tickled her sides as they walked into the kitchen just down the hallway on the left. "Stop stalling!"

Sakura swatted at his hands and flicked his arm in retaliation before nervously chirping, "Well, we're Team Seven, which is a lucky number in some places." Like that was going to help soften the blow. Sakura shook her head at herself and reached into the refrigerator for some lemonade, rubbing the back of her neck. "And, uh...my teammates are UchihaSasukeandUzumakiNaruto," she rushed. "Well, I'm gonna shower and–"

"The Uzumaki and the Uchiha?" Kizashi looked as dazed as if he'd been hit with a bat. "That's...that's...whoa. What were they thinking?" He mumbled as he sank into a kitchen chair. His eyes shot up to Sakura's with a look she had seen from her parents multiple times in her twelve years of life but still had only been able to decipher bits and pieces of it. He was afraid and Sakura could count on one hand how many times she had seen her dad wear that emotion. "And who's you're jōnin sensei?"

Sakura had to clear her throat a couple of times before she could answer and when she did, Kizashi's eyes went wide as saucers.

"Holy Hashirama!" The star points of his head shook violently. "That's...I mean...wow." He ran his hand over the bottom of his face. "He's...There's no better ninja in the village, you know–except the Hokage. You're lucky to get to learn from him."

Kizashi hoped he was telling the truth. He knew, of course, who the Uzumaki was to Hatake and that their paths had never crossed until now. If Hatake could extricate himself so thoroughly from the life of his dead sensei's son, would he even think twice about Sakura? Hatake Kakashi was not known for his friendly nature and Sakura was a social creature and eager to please; that wasn't known for being a healthy combination.

Kizashi had no recourse for getting Sakura moved to a different team, however. The laws of the Village made Academy graduates–even the early-achievers–completely autonomous from their parents. The only things they weren't legally allowed to do yet were get married and get drunk, though both happened frequently before the legal age of eighteen.

The only thing that somewhat assuaged Kizashi's fear was that Maito Gai respected Hatake. Maito-san was once assigned as a bodyguard on a particularly dangerous mission that Kizashi and his wife, Mebuki, had been assigned in a nearly-lawless part of Fire. Ever since then, Kizashi had had nothing but admiration and respect for him. If a man like Maito Gai considered Hatake his best friend, then Kizashi would at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

"The best?" Sakura asked. "In the whole village?"

"Absolutely."

"Then...why is he teaching? Don't they need him doing missions?"

"If you think about it," Kizashi said slowly, his enthusiasm on the rise, "wouldn't you want your best ninja training future ninja? Passing on his knowledge?"

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"So," Kizashi's eyes glittered. "What's he like?"

"Kakashi-sensei? He's...theatrical," she said, thinking of his maniacal laughter as he told them about tomorrow's survival exercise and that failure meant another year in the Academy.

"Theatrical?" Kizashi's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound right. Theatrical how?"

"I dunno, just...theatrical." What did she mean by 'theatrical?' It was an odd word-choice and she wasn't sure where it had come from; why not 'weird' or 'eccentric?' She shrugged it off and said, "I'm gonna go shower and stuff, then I'll make dinner. What do you want to eat?"

"Fish, of course."

Sakura grinned. "Really?"

"Didn't think we'd break tradition just 'cause you're a ninja now, did you?" He grinned back.

"Cha! I'll shower later!"

Kizashi grimaced as he watched his daughter casually snap the neck of a fish against the flat edge of a rock. It shouldn't bother him like it did, how unconflicted she was; it didn't bother him with anyone else. But, he hated to see Sakura do it because he'd never been able to get the first time out of his head.

Kizashi wondered what would happen when it came time to kill her first human. The first time she would have to choose between her own life and someone else's. She had been in a life-or-death situation before and had used her teeth to nearly tear a chunk out of her attacker's arm, but she had only been four-years-old. She hadn't had a prayer of killing the teen to save herself, so Kizashi didn't count it.

He wondered if she'd even thought about the consequences of being the one to kill another human, justified or not. That attack when she was four-years-old had ended with Sakura witnessing three brutal deaths and she had never been the same.

Where she had been sweet and a bit shy, she began to have random eruptions of anger and crying and violence. She had been scared of her own shadow whereas before, nothing scared her–for crying out loud, she had thought sharks were cute! And, unsurprisingly, she had developed a morbid fascination with death.

The nightmares were the worst, though. During that first year, she ended up in his and Mebuki's bed nearly every night. At first, her screaming and crying would wake them and they would rush to get her. Then she began coming to them on her own, crying but not hysterical. And then she stopped coming to them at all, stopped crying and screaming in the middle of the night.

They had thought, at first, that she was getting better, but they had been horribly wrong. The nightmares had become so intolerable that she had just stopped sleeping. She could be found in her room with all the lights on, drawing pictures that became progressively dark over time. And she had stopped looking at kids picture books and started looking at pictures of animal predations in nature magazines.

It had been difficult to arrange their missions so that only one of them was gone at a time, but Kizashi and Mebuki had both decided that making sure Sakura knew they were always there for her was the most important thing, especially as she withdrew further and further into a reclusive, explosive shell of her former self. The medics hadn't been able to explain her drastic personality changes to them, other than to say that it was common for kids and even adults to respond that way after such an assault and that she'd probably grow out of it. That had seem like a lot of bullshit to him and Mebuki but Konoha Hospital wasn't exactly known for its competence. In fact, there wasn't a single hospital in the five nations known for its competence.

The Haruno had had to tighten their budget a bit in order for one of them to always remain with Sakura, but it had been worth it. As much as he hated to admit it, Kizashi wasn't sure if he would have made spending time with Sakura as much of a priority if she hadn't struggled like she had. And though he hated that she had to suffer, he was grateful for the opportunities it had given him with his daughter.

"Ready, Pops?" Sakura asked with a grin as she rinsed her hands off in the lake.

"Ready, Sakura." Kizashi smiled at her, then turned his back on the lake and laced his hands together in front of his knees.

Sakura charged him from several feet away. Just as her right foot landed in his hands, he swung them over his head, and Sakura shot a blast of chakra to her foot. She soared over the lake for nearly thirty meters before landing with a huge splash. When the water settled, she was soaking wet, but still on the surface of the lake.

Kizashi's jaw dropped. When the hell did she learn that?!

Sakura giggled gleefully as she ran across the water toward him, leaving Kizashi even more dumbfounded. Kizashi couldn't do more than stand–shakily–on the water's surface, and he was a Water-Type! Sakura was running across the water nearly as well as she could run across land. He knew that Sakura spent most of her free-time learning chakra control but he'd had no idea she had progressed so far.

For the second time today, Kizashi was truly afraid for his daughter.

He'd always been worried about her, of course–she was a ninja, after all. But a genīn who could control her chakra better than many chūnin, and even better than some jōnin, was an allure that no authority in the Village could resist. Chakra control at her level did not come easily and was, in many cases, a more valuable skill than any of the typical skills taught to ninja.

Sakura reached the shore and threw her arms around Kizashi's neck, just as she had since she was a child. Kizashi was still tempted to think of her as one, but in the Five Nations–and the shinobi villages in particular–twelve was practically an adult. Fair or not, childhood was short because life was short. It didn't matter that governments were using children to take part in war and espionage because there weren't enough adults left to meet the Nations' needs. Hell, there were barely enough adults left to maintain population growth, and the day the governments tried to start breeding twelve-year-old's was the day Kizashi took up his weapons again.

Kizashi wished he could give Sakura even just one more year of carefree irresponsibility, but he knew she had never been irresponsible and she hadn't been carefree since she was four-years-old. It was so easy to forget that, though, when she looked at him like he was still the coolest man in the world.

He didn't expect that to last much longer now that her sensei was Hatake Kakashi.

"I think that's a new record!" Sakura beamed.

"You think?" Kizashi laughed. "You can run on water! Even I can't do more than stand."

"Really?" Sakura sounded both elated and concerned.

"Really. Did you learn that in the Academy?"

"Pssh, no." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "They don't even teach chakra control in the Academy! They just make you guess until you have a passable jutsu. So stupid."

Despite his fear, Kizashi's chest swelled up with pride; not only was Sakura able to walk on water, but she had taught herself how to do it.

"Sakura-chan." Kizashi put his hands on his daughter's face, an earnest look in his eye. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Don't show off how much control you have of your chakra. Please."

"You want me to hide my strongest talent?" Her voice cracked.

"No," he lied. "I just...want you to be careful about who knows how talented you are." He gave her a long hug, then pulled away and said, "Let's eat."

As Sakura seasoned the fish that her dad had gutted and cleaned, she continually side-eyed him as he chopped the vegetables.

Was walking on water really such a rare skill? Sure, Sakura had been working toward it for five years, but she'd always thought that it had taken her so long because of her young age. Were there other ninja like her father who couldn't walk on water? Was that why he never became a jōnin? How was it possible for a water-type not to be able to walk on water?

And why the hell had he asked her not to display her chakra control? Why did she have to be careful about who knew how good she was?

Well, she knew why she'd been careful over the last five years but she doubted that her dad had the same reasoning. And she hadn't thought she'd need to keep up the ruse now that she had graduated to a Team.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Is it bad that I have so much control of my chakra? I thought–I mean, isn't that the goal?"

Kizashi stopped cutting carrots and turned to face his daughter with a pained, but loving, look. "It isn't bad, Sakura. I'm sorry I made you think that. It is...dangerous, though."

"How come?"

"There are some people in the Village who would take advantage of your skills."

Sakura pursed her lips in confusion. "Isn't that the goal of being a ninja? For the Village to take advantage of your skills?"

"Yes," he said very slowly, trying to tread carefully though he knew Sakura would never rat him out–not on purpose. "When appropriate. There are some people who use a ninja's skills inappropriately, though, and skills like yours most of all."

"Oh."

Kizashi's chest ached at the sound of that word–like her entire world had tilted.

"How do I know who I can trust?"

That was the million-yen question, wasn't it? "I don't know, kiddo. But, you will. When the time comes. You'll know who you can trust."

Sakura nodded, unconvinced, and turned back to the fish. The idea that she couldn't trust everyone was new to her, although, the more she thought of it, of course that was the case. Anyone could be the next Uchiha Itachi, right?

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"How come you and Mom moved to Utilities? Why didn't you stay in the general ranks?"

Kizashi was quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath before saying, "We weren't well-suited for the general ranks. We are much more useful to Konoha and Fire as irrigation and agriculture specialists. We had to know our strengths–and personal desires–and have the humility to request reassignment. Why, Sakura? Are you having second-thoughts about being a ninja?"

"No," she said adamantly, truthfully. "I just never asked you before. I've always wondered."

"Ninja skills are needed everywhere, just not always in the ways that people think. Your Mom and I have done a lot of good for people–helping them get running water, improving their soil, getting–."

"Dad, I know you and Mom help lots of people. I wasn't asking...I wasn't asking because I'm...ashamed or something. I'm way proud of you!"

"You...are?"

"Cha! You guys are awesome! Even most of my friends like you better than their own parents, even when their parents are s'posed to be to super-cool jōnin."

"Oh." He blinked, nonplussed.

"Shnikies! I forgot to start the rice!"

It was during a lull in the conversation over the dinner table, when father and daughter had full bellies and no intention of starting the dishes any time soon, that Kizashi asked,

"Hey, Sakura? I, uh, didn't get the chance to ask you before Mom and I left on this mission, but...did I hear you having a nightmare the other night?"

Sakura didn't hesitate as she continued reaching for her lemonade, and her shoulders barely tensed before she laughed easily and said, "How should I know what you heard, Dad?"

"Ha, ha, very funny." He reached across the table and flicked her forehead, which made her giggle.

"It wasn't too bad. Ninja's honor." She lied.

Sakura loved her parents more than she loved anyone. Her nightmares of eyeless ninja and cascades of blood were anything but random and infrequent, but they were the price she had to pay, and she was willing to pay it. Her parents, though, were not; they hadn't even been willing to pay it for themselves, which was why her mom was a geologist and her dad was a hydrologist, using their chakra natures to help villages across Fire to begin, maintain, and/or improve their soil, as well as their water quality and conservation.

Sakura knew that neither of them had wanted to be ninja, but in their time, that hadn't really been a choice. Not that Sakura had much of a choice, either, although there wasn't a draft in place like there had been for her parents. But Sakura wanted to be a ninja, she wanted to be strong and dependable and fearless. And so, Sakura had spent over half of her short life convincing them that she wasn't fragile or broken.

Her parents had had more than one verbal brawl over Sakura, her health, and whether or not she would be allowed to join the Academy. They would flip-flop over the benefits of her learning to protect herself versus the reality that she would have to face even more death and destruction. The contention had been so bad that, several times, Sakura had almost told them that she didn't want to be a ninja anymore and that they didn't have to worry or fight about it ever again.

Sakura understood her parents' desire to protect her, but they didn't seem realize that she had to be able to protect herself. That way, no one else would die because of her and, just as importantly, she would be able to save others the same way that she had been saved by the ANBU agent in the leopard mask. If the choice had been left up to her parents, she would never have been enrolled in the Academy.

Luckily for her, Konoha gave seven-year-olds limited autonomy, which included the ability to enroll in the ninja academy without a parent's permission. By the time she got hurt bad enough for her parents to be notified, she had already proven that she could hold her own. At least, well enough that Iruka-sensei didn't want to kick her out.

And she was going to keep holding her own, no matter what.

That's what Inner was for: a chakra-manifestation of Sakura's unconscious, tasked with protecting Sakura when she wasn't awake, though she began chiming in during Sakura's waking moments more and more frequently as Sakura got older. Inner was Sakura's secret weapon against her nightmares, and while the conversation with her dad indicated that Inner didn't always prevent Sakura from waking up screaming, she certainly succeeded most of the time. Plus, she was really good at organizing and integrating everything Sakura learned nearly immediately, making it almost laughably easy to maintain her spot at the top of the class.

"Do you, uh..." Kizashi stammered, "well, I mean, I can...we can talk about it?"

"Thanks, Dad." Sakura smiled. "But, I don't even remember it. That's how I know it wasn't bad."

"Oh." Kizashi sighed with relief and smiled. Still, he asked, "How often do they happen?"

"Not often. That's normal, though, right? Most people have nightmares sometimes?"

"Well, yes." Kizashi nodded. "But ninja...for ninja, it's usually the good dreams that only happen sometimes."

The silence fell heavy between them. He hadn't told her anything she hadn't figured out for herself, but the sadness in his eyes as he looked at her had her taking stock of her choices again. If the nightmares from watching three people die were bad, how bad would they be when Sakura witnessed more? What about when she was the killer? Would she tough it out, or would she end up in utilities like her parents? Or maybe even as a civilian? What happened if she broke? Would she hurt herself? Others? Both? Would she confide in her parents or would she continue keeping everything a secret?

"I just...I want you to know that your mom and I are still here for you, Sakura. Even if you think you're too old for us now." Kizashi smiled softly at her.

Sakura jumped from her chair and threw her arms around her father's neck, shutting her eyes. "Thanks, Dad."

"G'night!" Sakura kissed her dad on the cheek before heading for her room.

Neither had wanted to go to sleep, unsure of the next time they would be able to do this but, eventually, Sakura had known she needed to turn in for her early morning.

Sakura walked up the stairs on the right of the entryway, trailing her hand along the worn wooden railing as she had done since she was old enough to reach it. She smiled as the eighth step creaked loudly under her feet as it had for years, and then jumped over the thirteenth step and onto the landing. She turned into the first door on her right and breathed in deeply.

Her room smelled like old books and whichever flowers Ino gave her from the shop each week–this week, it was tulips. Sakura's room had always given her a sense of safety and well-being. It was nothing special to look at for anyone but her, but she loved the shark plushy sitting on her bed that she'd had since she was three; the throwing board for her shuriken that she had helped her mom make; the dozens of bottles of nail polish strewn about.

Her desk was piled high with books on chakra–structure, function, exhaustion, restoration, exercises, and a million other sub-categories. There were also books on her shelves ranging from weapons–selection, care, and cautions–to human anatomy–vulnerabilities, strengths, and limits.

The librarians had known her by name since she was five.

Sakura grabbed a pair of clean underwear and her green-and-white-striped pajamas before heading into the bathroom one door down. She washed her hair with her favorite strawberry shampoo; shaved; then brushed her teeth. By the time she snuggled under her blanket with Mr. Sharkie, her eyes had begun to droop, and she drifted off to visions of Inner prowling around the waters of her unconscious, silently warding off any threats.