Note: This is some omake I create about various alternative universes where Sakura can be different type of Gem. Most of these are...angst, so be careful.

This one is a one shot, but too long, so I cut it in parts. Will update soon. You can check this on the AO3, under the same story name, ok?

Kudos and comments, as usual~

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was born different.

She was blessed by the nature, all the best offering, they give it all to her. Flowers marked her bright hair, Forest grew in her window of the soul, Earth gave her something special, shiny to fit with the glory of other gifts.

But the gift from the Earth was considered by her parents as 'a sign of devil'. They feared the magnificent pink gem on her forehead, went against their purposes as parents, and abandonned her.

The little girl, soon, was taken by a man who was obssessed with the erfection of Killing.The Art of Death, he called it. He wanted to create the best soldier in the world, to fulfill his dream and win his war. His desire was so strong that it poisoned his mind and dirtied his hand with innocent blood.

He never cared.

The girl was locked down with other humans. She was taught about loyalty, hatred, murder, various things. Her body tortured, her mind broken, splitted apart, made her so unstable that it was dangerous. Her Gem gave her a specific mark, a power to stand above other subjects.

The man was pleased. He was going to smash and crush everything in the Gemling's mind, made her perfect.

However, even if her fate was doomed for long, the Sky in her, knew the taste of freedom, craved for it. To be free, to love and cry and laugh and smile and live and heal-

One day, the girl broke free. Flee away from the hellhole, she crawled back to the surface, blent in with other humans and faked a normal life.

She would be free, the girl swore. At any cost.

Sakura is so nervous.

Fuck. Scratch that shitty phrase. She is not nervous. Of course she isn't. How can you think so low of her, hn?

She is freaking out!!

Dear The Hokage, how can people do this to the young, innocent babies? To her? Sitting there, on her seat, waiting for the teachers to summon her into the room and decides her face. This is such a torture, a pain in ass that just won't go away.

Bites her lips, hard, until she tastes some (sweet sweet sweet) iron flavor on her tongue, so familiar that it becomes a twisted comfort, Sakura leans on the chair.

Conceal. Don't feel. Don't show emotion. Inner, a ghost in her mind, mubles.

"Haruno Sakura!"

Her breath hitches as her name called out loudly, a thunder to her sharp ears. Wait, it's her turn already? What in the fuckng world is happening? Oh dear, she can feel her heart's beating like crazy right now….

Don't. Freak. Out.

I won't.

Uses all of her bravery to stand up, walk down the stair and ready to knock the door, without shaking. That's a thing to say, mind you.

Sakura has been waiting for this all her life. She knows this will come. She knows since the day she signed her name on the paper.

Her hand rises and meets the hard surface, creating a steady knocking.

"Come in."

"Sensei." Sakur steps in, reaching down to straighthen her smooth, red dress. "What do I need to do now?"

"Show us clone techinque." Mizuki gives her a boring glance, holding one sheet of paper in his arm.

I don't really like him.

Sakura nods, her hands already begins forming the required seal. Sakura won't fail this test. She practices everything she knows, blood and sweat and tears, leaving no room for failure in her path. Not this. She is not allowed to fail. She can't handle it's consequence.

Sakura feels the chakra in her begins to move, wildly, boldly, a beast with their own mind. Her big forehead, which is hidden behind fancy black cotton, is aching. The muscle there turns sore, bitting deep down to the bone. Something wakes up, too, as her chakra flows to complete the clone technique.

Clenches her jaw tightly, with perfect control and practice through years, Sakura forces it down, returns to it's place, so that it won't mess up her work. Inner stays quiet, doesn't want to distract her.

Maybe she is one of the good things Sakura gets from….those days.

A puff of smoke explodes in the middle of the room. 3 perfect replications of Sakura appears around her, just the right number to impress them, but not enough to hurt her chakra system.

Sakura sighs, relieved, hands reaching up to the hair band, a habit when she is nervous.

"Congratulation, Sakura-kun. You did it." Iruka's smile is warm as he praises her, takes and gives the metal headband with Konoha symbol on it to Sakura, what she holds with all respect.

Her fingers trading the cold, hard metal, hope and happiness sparks up inside her, a blooming flower under the pleasing sun. If there is, somehow, a sliver of sorrow, depression or guilty tainted the feeling, Sakura ignores it all.

She is, officially, a shinobi now. The first step to her drean

(She has to do this. For her freedom.)

Sakura stares at her reflection in the mirror. Long, pink hair brushed and braided carefully, some falls out and frames the curving side of her pale face. Her eyes carry the shape of pretty, pure, clear, fresh green that reminds people of young buds sprouting in the spring.

She smiles.

She looks good. Humans. Normal.

("All just a monster.")

Squishes some scentless lotion out of the bottle, Sakura puts and rubs it over her cold skin. Delicate fingers touches the smooth fabric on her forehead, and she stops.

It's time.

Slowly, like it hurts her to do so, Sakura removes the red hair band. Clothes run through her hands, so gently, reveals something sparkling underneath the layer.

A Gemstone with natural, curving cut that's done by the hand of nature, an elegance produced by Esrth now formed into a heart shaped rock, carved in the middle of her forehead, straight to the flesh and bone. What a dreamy gem, pink with slight touch of orange, wonderful clarity…..

Sakura laughs, bitterly.

Yes. It's beautiful. Yes, it's shiny and makes Sakura prettier and special and powerful, but so what? This Gem, makes Sakura into something she can never change, something she doesn't want to be.

("You are made to be a killer. A tool. Stay where you are, stay fit with your role.")

No.

A Padparadscha, she is. A killer, she can't deny. A tool, she created to be.

But she is Sakura now….and Sakura only wants to be free.

She ties the Konoha headband to her head, steadily, hiding the gorgeous gem away from visible view. Looks down at the favorite red dress, she tugs it into the washing machine. Too bright, will be a burden in assassination. Must changes her clothes into something more fittable for a shinobi's job.

Sakura doesn't have a lot of costumes, so she picks something simpke. A dark maroon shirt, high collar and short sleeves, brown skirt that is desined to be easy to move.

Now, she looks good. Let's ju-

Her eyes stop right at the long, midnight blue cloak hangs on the wall, it's clean apperance explains how much it's owner treasures it. Although, the attemp can't hide the cloth's age. Dusty. Old. Worn. Her mind flashes through memories, dark and smoky.

"Be strong, be good. You will be fine.""Don't look back.""Goodbye, Gemling."

Angony tucks at her heart, painfully, miserably, but her lips curled up as she takes the cloak, wraps it around her petite form.

Sakura clings at the soft material, breaths in the smell of salt, blood, sweat and metal, of loud laughter, big rough hands and jerky smile on the blue face, of who she sometimes dares to imagine will be how a father like.

"I will be home soon." Sakura talks to empty space, to no one . The cold silence of the apartment is her answer.

Let's go. Inner urges, her spectral voice sad too. Hurry up.

Yes.

Sakura grimaces, and closes the door.