Sunlight filtered through the window and rested on Sakura's face. Blinking her eyes open, she stared at the ceiling and focused her attention downstairs. Nothing. Slipping out of bed, Sakura crept downstairs to the kitchen where her parents gathered in the mornings.
Lying on the counter, a small wallet full of cash and a short letter waited for her. The letter held two instructions don't burn the house down and keep the house clean. Sakura blinked back tears. They didn't say where they were going or when they would be back. No 'I love you' or 'take care of yourself' as the families did in her books.
Clutching the letter, she huddled on the couch with a fluffy blanket. If her parents had been here, she would have been reading. Her parents would be bustling about getting ready for the day. But now, there was nothing. No schedule to follow. No directions on how to get to the market. There weren't even instructions on how to wash the laundry.
How am I supposed to take care of myself? Shopping, cooking, and laundry were chores her mother did. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. These were now her responsibilities, even if she didn't know how to do them.
True to their words, her neighbors checked in on her a week following her parents' departure. Sakura's clothes littered the living room, soggy and still filled with soap when they came over. Pots lay around the kitchen sink scorched and waiting to be washed and the smell of burnt food seared every nostril that entered the house. Mrs. Rendon tutted her tongue. "They didn't even teach you how to live by yourself."
After seeing the sorry state of her house, Mrs. Rendon came by every day to teach her something new. She taught Sakura how to make her meals and get all the soap out of her clothing. She devoured Mrs. Rendon's teachings. They were turning out to be more valuable than her mothers.
Assured that Sakura wouldn't burn the house down, the lessons stopped. Her neighbors stopped coming over. They told her if she needed help to come to ask them. Otherwise, she would be fine on her own.
The year passed with a steep learning curve. Laundry, shopping, and budgeting are Sakura's new skills in her repertoire. Her parents came home twice. They were only stopping for a good night's rest before heading off again. In the mornings, they would put a small wad of cash on the kitchen counter to tide her over until their next visit.
With no schedule to follow, she devised her own. She was dedicating her mornings to educational textbooks and her afternoons to adventure novels. The texts around the house varied in topic, so what she learned changed from day today. Most subjects lasted a week, sometimes two depending on the time needed to memorize or practice.
Today, Six-year-old Sakura triple-checked all three bookcases scattered around the house. Every single book had been re-read twice. Groaning, she tilted her head back to glare at the ceiling. Limiting her trips to the village kept her away from people. Adding an extra visit promised interaction.
Huffing, Sakura grabbed a light jacket and shuffled over to the door. I have no clue where the library is.
After knocking on her neighbor's door, the door swung open and slammed into the wall. Melony stood there wearing a pale-yellow nightgown. Her black hair twisted up in awkward angles. "What do you want?" Melony sneered, "the sun is barely up."
"I need to ask your mother a question," She mumbled, lowering her head.
Rolling her eyes, Melony walked inside and yelled, "Mom, the pink-haired brats here!" Pink-haired brat was the uncreative nickname awarded to her because of her obnoxious hair. Given a choice, pink is the last color she would have chosen for herself. It made her noticeable in a crowd.
"Hello, Sakura! What can I do for you?" Mrs. Rendon questioned, patting her hands dry on her floral apron.
"Could you give me directions to the library?"
"Goodness me! Did you finish all the books already!?" Sakura bit her lip and bobbed her head. "Alrighty then."
Mrs. Rendon rattled off directions, and Sakura struggled to map them in her head.
The further she walked, the more confident she was that she had missed her turn. The sun lay above the horizon. However, the mist covering the village made it hard to tell.
Trees became thicker and more abundant, shading the path she trudged on. Goosebumps trailed her arms, and she hugged her jacket tighter to herself. She could only hear the crunching of gravel and her light breathing.
From her left, a cry emitted from the woods. People usually weren't awake at this time. She peered into the mist-covered woods from the noise came. She took one step and then another, jogged through the woods.
The shouts grew louder as she grew closer. The trees receded, and Sakura faintly saw a clearing with four people. One stood taller than the rest, wearing a green flak jacket. The others wore a variety of different colored garments. The tall man stood with his arms crossed, watching two of the smaller people trade blows. One of them is a girl with a large braid and the other a stout boy covered in mud.
Sakura tried to track their movements, but they moved too fast for her eyes to follow. Heaving, the two fighters sprung apart. Both kept a battle-ready stance as they eyed each other. The boy's hands flew into a weird sign and said something she couldn't make out. Bending over, he threw a large handful of dirt. The girl squinted her eyes, keeping her stance. Out of the cloud of dirt launched three clones.
As the three copies rushed her, the girl whipped around and used her right fist to slam a fourth copy Sakura hadn't seen into the ground. The instant the boy hit the grass, all three clones popped. Shaking her head, the girl brought a tiny silver weapon to the boy's throat.
The tall man advanced, his mouth moving. "You can't keep using the same move repeatedly. It makes it easy for your opponent to predict your next move."
Both children stood up, and the boy's head drooped. "I know, sensei. I can't think of anything new! She moves too fast."
"We'll work on it later. For now, I want you to go practice throwing shuriken."
The man turned toward Sakura, and they stared at each other. Swinging around, she ran, flying through the trees at a pace she wasn't aware she could. The road came back into view, and the pounding of her feet on the ground didn't stop.
She stopped and stumbled over to a building wheezing upon reaching the market. Her legs wouldn't stop trembling, and pink hair strands plastered her face. Sakura hoped she wasn't followed, unsure what to say to the ninja she spied on. Well tried to spy.
The market streets filled with people as she weaved through the crowd. She halted at a fresh vegetables stand, and a small smile curled on her face.
"Sakura! You're early! I usually don't see your face around here 'til Friday," Ahmya cried, waving her closer. "Come, come, let's get you set up."
"Um, actually, Ms. Hatanaka, I'm here to try and find the library."
"Now, what have I told you about calling me, Ms. Hatanaka? Its Ahmya dear." She pinched Sakura's cheek. "You're pretty far from the library. Would you like me to draw you a map?"
"I would really appreciate it, "Sakura confessed, "I got lost when I asked my neighbor for directions."
Ahmya's blue eyes trailed over Sakura's figure, pausing at her hair. "Been running, have you? "She asked, pulling several pink strands away from her forehead.
"I accidentally stumbled into a group of shinobi training. I watched until one of them spotted me. "Ahmya's eyebrows raised, and her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Stalk the shinobi, did you? See anything interesting?"
"I've never seen anyone move that fast before! And one of them made clones of himself!" she rambled. Ahmya's shoulders shook as she laughed, and Sakura's face flushed.
"Sounds like you had fun! Maybe you should research them while you're at the library. I'm sure you can find more about chakra."
"Chakra?"
"Oh no! I'm not going to tell you. Finding out is half the fun! Run along, come see me when you're ready to buy more vegetables," Ahmya shooed her away.
Pouting, Sakura trekked to the library with her new instructions. Arriving at the library doors, her eyes roved the structure—a two-story building built with red bricks and wood surrounding the base. The front doors are a blue darker than her neighbor's door.
"How can I help you today, little lady," a woman inquired, leaning across the help desk. Her hair was brown streaked with silver. Ahmya said to research the shinobi. Why not? It's not like she came here with anything specific in mind.
"I... could you tell me where your books about shinobi are?" One of her feet drew little circles on the floor behind her.
The lady quirked an eyebrow," Shinobi, huh? The second bookshelf behind those tables over there." She pointed. Sakura dipped her head.
The bookshelves in her house combined would equal one bookshelf here at the library. Each shelf was overflowing with books and scrolls. The knowledge was sitting on these shelves, begging. A book spills secrets, hides nothing, and never leaves. Her finger trailed the spines of the books as she read the titles. Her hand stilled before grabbing a book titled Chakra.
Since the Sage of Six Paths spread chakra, chakra has become essential to human life. Every person produces chakra, and those who run out die. The heart and other organs produce chakra. The energy circulates the body through a network called the "Chakra Pathway System." Pressure points called Tenketsu are what shinobi use to expel their chakra for Jutsu.
Two energies melded together to create chakra. The mind develops spiritual power. This energy can be increased through studying, meditation, and experience. Physical energy is accumulated from the body's cells and can be expanded through training and exercise. The more powerful the two energies are, the more powerful the chakra created will be. Practicing a technique repeatedly will build up experience and allow more chakra to be created. This makes the method more powerful.
Reading about chakra made her eager to learn how to use it herself. While learning about chakra was fun, and it was certainly something she would continue to do, it did not answer her questions about shinobi. Peeling away from the meager book selection about chakra, she headed towards the history bookcases. She unearthed a scroll labeled The Shinobi Organizational System by searching through these shelves. In this scroll, she learned about the different rankings a shinobi could hold as they grew in skill. Genin, Chunin, and Jounin.
Konohagakure values teamwork. It was a line that stood out from the rest. Teamwork would mean partners have your back. It would also explain the group in the woods.
Wouldn't it be great to have people she trusted with her life? People who would care for her if she got sick. Instead of hunching over a toilet, emptying her stomach before curling on the cold tile floor until the pain subsided enough to move. People who would search for her if she went missing.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura bowed her head. That's what she wanted. If she couldn't rely on family, she would have trusted comrades. She will be a kunoichi. It would mean going through the famed academy. The work would be ten times harder for her than her classmates simply because most of them would come from clans. Their clans would train them. She would have to teach herself.
Maybe having to claw her way up the shinobi rankings would be a good thing. It might make her parents proud of her. They always liked to complain that she wasn't motivated enough. If she wanted to join the academy next year when she turned seven, she needed to prepare.
"Hey kid, we're closing. I'm going to need you to head out."
"Am I allowed to check out any of these books?" Sakura pointed at the table.
"Hm. Pick three, and I'll let you check them out. We usually don't check books out to kids as young as you. But then again, I've never seen a kid your age dive into books as you did," the librarian chuckled.
With her three books hugged to her body, she heads out the library doors. The only light in the streets were lamps and the moon. At six years old, books held the truth, not meaningless words from adults to appease her. The fact was that her parents abandoned her. The truth was that her neighbors kept themselves at arm's length, not wanting the responsibility of another child. Melony was more than enough for them. The truth was her only living and breathing friend was a vegetable stand owner. The fact was she was lonely.
Sakura had no purpose. She read books and didn't know others her age.
Shinobi trains to protect the village. Merchants collected and sold assorted items. Everyone had a purpose, and Sakura yearned for her own. She was going to be the most dependable kunoichi in the village.
