By the second year of academy, just as Arato had predicted, her beginning class had been chopped in half.

Of those left, the clan children were only down by one, having lost a Sarutobi to an illness which had been, while not fatal, still too debilitating for its host to remain. All of the orphans stuck around, but only one person who had been in the back row by the middle of the semester stayed, and only four in the fourth row did, leaving them with a class of 26 and seeing them promptly merged with class five, who had, out of their original 47, lost 27 students. The total for the merged class was therefore yanked back up to the original size, but half of the class was barely unrecognizable to Sakura. Sensei was still their teacher, at least—the other had been assigned one of the new classes.

Sakura stopped looking at Arden's memories, confused both by their seemingly fictional nature and all too familiar locale. She'd tried, twice, since Kaede's funeral, but each time she'd seen horrific things drawn out as if they were entertainment, so she stepped away. Additionally, she knew that what little she had found would be unsatisfactory—it was only a fragment of a much larger narrative, and Sakura had no idea how long it would take to stumble on the next piece of the puzzle.

Unfortunately, her mind still sped ahead. It wasn't as if she was still absorbing the memories, of course—she had enough control to keep that from happening—but she was still maturing far faster than she should have been, far faster than she ever wanted to be.

Fall brought an announcement by the Hokage. It had been eight years since the World War, and the Sandaime Hokage decided it was time to move to a more peaceful village. Starting at once, children would be allowed to delay entry into the academy until age eight. Four of the 36 academies spread throughout the country (Konoha's was the largest, by far, but graduates from the others made up most of the chunin- and genin-corps) would be fully shut down, too, and the saved money would go into improving shinobi healthcare. There was more—academy students would now be allowed to take the graduation test three times instead of two before permanently failing, battlefield promotions would be discouraged, Genin would see more "community" based missions…

All of that, of course, had not been put into the speech. While the Hokage had made a near hour long speech about the era of prosperity they had now certainly entered, most of the changes weren't "officially" announced, only immediately put into action. In fact, Sakura had only learned about most of them because of her mother and her practice of eavesdropping in on complaining genin (the former of which had been quite appreciative of the increased emphasis on survival, while the latter had been more than a little upset about the unexpected increase in babysitting missions.)

The odd thing, Sakura thought, was that they already had been at peace for about eight years now. It had been, she knew, 16 Konoha when the World War had ended, and it was now 24 Konoha, and this was the first time such major reforms were being put in place. She wondered what had caused the sudden change.

The new school year also brought a change in behavior for Sakura. Shimura, she decided, had kept his reign of terror for long enough, and she may not have the physical skills to beat him, but then the Yamanaka had never really relied on those skills to see them through in the first place.

First and foremost, she began to invite others, those who were the most affected by Shimura's concept of an ideal shinobi, to sit with her and the rest of chinmoku during lunch. This included many of the orphans from their class and a good deal of civilian and shinobi-born children besides.

She also began to slowly, slowly force her peers to question whether his opinion really mattered—he wasn't the top scorer in anything, so why did he act as if they needed his approval to tell them whether they were doing well?

She would also poke and prod the students—quietly, gently—to ask others for help, to train at home, to review tests. She taught by example, and she taught by questions. She did not teach by orders, both because she knew none would listen to a four year old and because she didn't particularly want anyone outside her team to realize what she was doing.

That was not to say that her actions went entirely unnoticed, of course—many of the other children were confused both by her sudden extraversion as well as her desire to interact with those more likely to drop out in the first place. Yasuo, in particular, eyed her with an odd mixture of suspicion and gratitude, though she suspected the latter had more to do with taking some of the pressure to help his fellow orphans off his back than anything else.

The enterprise progressed slowly, of course, but as one month bled into another she swore she could see progress, could see her classmates acting less downtrodden then they had before.

The other excellent part of the second year of the academy was that it felt much less like a civilian school. In year one nearly everything they had been taught fell under information everyone could use—how to read and write, how to do simple math, bits and pieces about Konoha's history and greatness meant more for patriotic growth than anything else… the only truly ninja part of the day was physical lessons, and even the requirements to pass to second year in those were barely higher than the Yamanaka's pre-academy requirements.

While this pattern mostly held in year two, there were two exceptions. First and foremost, they had begun simple weapons and taijutsu training—the former of which consisted of learning to throw objects of various sizes, the latter of which involved watching matches of older children as they were critiqued. Within the classroom walls the lessons changed too, becoming less about pure information and more geared towards information as they would use it upon graduation—a math problem, for instance, might ask when a ninja who had started out with 30 kunai and was using them at a rate of two per second should switch to straight taijutsu, given that they wanted two in their hands and two as back-up at the time of the switch?

They had also begun to learn about chakra, how to survive in the woods, how to identify simple illnesses and injuries, simple hand signals to convey various messages, and a more detailed outline of Konohan history.

Compared to last year's emphasis on multiplication and reading comprehension, Sakura's days were vastly improved (even if the class was still moving far too slowly for her liking; each type of math problem took weeks to get through.)

The relationship of the chinmoku team improved as well. While it was still nearly entirely silent, Sakura began to steadily learn about Juro's frustration over being ignored as the youngest, about his worries over the two deaths that had already occurred with his siblings, about his desire to keep everyone and everything safe. She also began to learn about Shin and the nights he spent wide awake, afflicted with a type of insomnia there was no cure for, particularly not in the clan of the eternal sleepers. She learned of his vast imagination, and how he'd often find himself lost in stories without beginning or end for days until suddenly jerking back into reality.

In turn, they learned about Sakura's own troubles with her senses, about her childhood activities, about her lack of clear direction for the future and her ever present and ever combative thirsts for knowledge and for companionship. They learned about how the latter had been dulled, somewhat, after that time spent in the white room, and how it was harder for her, now, to open up, to feel unworried.

She did not tell them about Arden.

She did not try to hide anything else.

One of the most important things the second year of school brought, however, were the Aburame.

There were two of them, now, in her class. One seemed relatively normal, if overly clothed and more quiet than even chinmoku. The other…

Bokuso was one of the tallest in their year, merely six years old but already taller than most who were seven and some who were eight. He was also one of the creepiest, with bugs crawling over any uncovered skin constantly, his afro-like hair masking half his face with a coarse home for some of his bugs, and an overall eerie demeanor which was not helped by his habit of appearing without warning behind the person whose attention he wanted.

Sakura may have been a little bit in love.

It took her until November to figure out what his favorite food was—fresh pineapple, a rare delicacy in the fire nation. It took until December for Juro to get his hands on some, although neither he nor the rest of the chinmoku knew where it came from.

Once everything was in place the trio ambushed the creepy boy.

"You have cornered me before class: you wish to bribe me into intimidating Shimura." Bokuso said. "I accept: his behavior is not productive." He held out his hand, and Juro deposited the jar of fruit. All four nodded at each other, and they entered the class.

They were in the middle of a math lesson when Shimura began to shift. His foot jiggled, and he began glancing about instead of watching the lesson. His knee banged the top of his desk, catching Sensei's attention.

"Is something wrong, Shimura?"

"No—no sir." Shimura said. His attention remained faulty for the rest of class, and the second lunch period arrived he disappeared outside, where the entire class could see him jumping all around and running like a madman in the snow. For an entire week after that he acted as if he'd eaten to much sugar, becoming increasingly unable to sit still and pay attention and trying in vain to release the energy whenever they had any kind of break. Bokuso did free him from whatever he had done after that, though—the point was not, after all, to hurt Shimura's education, just knock him and his cronies' view of him down a few pegs and get Sensei to actively discipline him, which the single week did flawlessly.

February, wonderfully, brought Tou-san back.

As usual, the dinner was messy, loud, and full of interruptions, but in due time everyone managed to get their stories out.

Given that Ren had his own family now, and Sayuri was still on a mission, and Aoi had not been heard from in years, and Kaede was… and Kamui had moved out too, the first of the remaining six who got to speak were the twins. As they had warned throughout the previous months, they had inexplicably dropped out rather than taking the exams, and now explained to Tou-san about the excellent jobs they'd found in a tea house. No one questioned this, though Sakura could see that the rest of her siblings were as confused as she was.

Ayame went next. She was eight years old now, and still oh-so eager to be one of the rare female frontline Yamanaka. She'd taken to hanging about the Akimichi training fields, she explained, and asking for help in everything from Taijutsu to Ninjutsu to weaponry. She was, Sakura readily admitted, quickly improving in everything she set her mind to, even if she knew from Kaa-san's lecturing that her in-class skills weren't exactly up to snuff.

Next was Fujio, seven years old and still as egotistical as ever. He was near the top of his class, and while it looked like he'd never break the top five, his Nara partner—a girl who hated the very idea of being second—was currently the top kunoichi.

Kohana, on the other hand, was having a great time not being a ninja, and was steadily memorizing every single flower sold in Yamanaka's flower shop.

And then it was Sakura's turn.

"And how about you, my little cherry blossom?" Tou-san asked, but before she could answer Fujio interrupted, in a sing-song voice that was designed to irritate.

"Sakura has a crush!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not! And how would you know, anyway?" Sakura snapped.

"Don't you know that my partner Kansei's cousin is Shin?" Fujio sniped back.

"Fujio, I believe it was Sakura's turn to speak." Kaa-san said.

"I don't want to anymore." Sakura pouted.

"Sakura." Kaa-san said worryingly.

"Fine. I dunno… most of my class is okay, I guess… I like my team… I'm doing well in class…"

Tou-san laughed. "We'll see if you're in a better mood tomorrow, alright?"

The new year brought with it increased independence, and with it increased responsibility. Sakura now made regular supply runs to many of her family members, and was also allowed to explore certain streets, so long as she did so with Shin and Juro. Her increased independence brought with it chances to earn money, and before long the three of them together had gathered enough money to pay for a set of blank notebooks, detailed genin- to chunin-level textbooks, and library passes for them all.

Shin, of course, focused primarily on the literary world, and within a few weeks had scratched out twelve different short stories. The book he'd chosen was a sort of how-to one on the genre titled Expressive Literature, and he was now experimenting in how to use specific techniques to invoke thoughts, rather than outright stating them.

Juro, on the other hand, focused primarily on medicine. His textbook was an insanely long (and expensive) one detailing all that was currently known about anatomy, and his notebook was filled with detailed notes about every single injury, illness, and biological change that anyone in any of their families experienced.

Sakura had chosen a textbook focusing on recent available research and the currently accepted methods herself, and it was fascinating in so many ways—in how it coincided with Arden's memories, in how it differed, and in the sheer number of topics it covered. Her notebook was primarily used in learning how to write English and take notes about Arden's memories so that they wouldn't be forgotten again.

With the exception of Sakura's notebook (which she merely explained away as trying to create her own code), all of their information was freely shared between them.

By Sakura's birthday, their work had begun to be noticed. Several clan members were poking about, giving her tips on how to make a code, and at this point she felt as if she'd have to create one just so that she'd have something to show.

Juro, too, had begun to be actively sought out, both by the ill and by those involved in the medical field, and apparently showed an unnatural talent in picking up any relevant knowledge that was given. While it would be many, many years until he was invited to the hospital—even to watch—he was routinely praised in taking such an interest so early, and his mother had begun coaching him in the preparation of healthy food too, something which Juro very much liked: it gave him alone time with his mother, for one, and made his brothers sit up and take notice that he'd decided to go a different route through life for another.

As for Shin? Well, he was now in charge of story-time for all of his young nieces and nephews. While he mostly kept himself to published books or well-known tales, the constant pressure did work in getting him to orate a few of his stories to watchful ears. The Nara, while generally quite a quiet clan, seemed to be doing the best to allow this part of him to flourish, even if the adults never said anything directly.

Soon, despite Juro having seemed to be the most charismatic of their team at the beginning, the dynamic had changed and it was Sakura and her crusade against drop-outs that seemed the most extroverted and Shin and his increasing verboseness landing somewhere in the middle, while Juro suddenly found himself to be the quietest of the quiet. He didn't seem to mind.

Sakura's favorite part of the year, however, came at the end-of-year exams. They'd had them last summer, of course, but the simple classes had meant they couldn't count as a challenge at all, and out of the clan children only Inuzaka Teru had gotten less than a perfect score, and while Sakura had not done nearly as well on the physical portion as the mental, she was also a great deal younger than the rest of her class, and at four had not had nearly the coordination required to do more than what was required to get said perfect score.

This year?

Only six students got a perfect score on the written, one of which was Sakura. Juro and Shin both missed by one, to their immense frustration. On the physical portion, while her five years left her with a body that was still two years smaller than her average classmate, it was also now nearly as flexible, and constant practice and Juro spending a lot of time going through his anatomy book for any tips allowed her score for the first time to reach the upper quarter of the class (though she suspected her rank would decrease quickly as they moved into taijutsu and strength-focused activities.)

The most interesting scores, however, were Shimura's.

"Ryoto Shimura" was ranked, out of the remaining 112 students, 26th. He'd been 5th the year before, the year when the top fifty-ish were actually functionally tied and the ranking was more an approximation of where they might end up next year, and he did not take the fall very well.

Actually, that was a bit too much of an understatement.

"I said retest me! There's no way I scored that low!" Shimura snapped.

"I do not make mistakes." Sensei Masaru said.

"I am not 26th." He spit out the ranking like a curse. "I expected my ranking to rise, not fall. There must be some kind of error!"

Sensei sighed impatiently. Sakura couldn't figure out why he hadn't already punished him. "This year the written test increased substantially in length, difficulty, and range. So, too, has the physical test—it no longer tests solely for one's health, but now covers such diverse skills as flexibility, strength, respiratory endurance, stamina, coordination, speed, balance, accuracy, agility… simply put, it is no longer enough to do fine. You must now be excellent."

"But I know I'm in the top five of this class! You're not giving me my due!"

Sensei blinked. "There are two other classes. Also, you are not in the top five of the class. You are in the top ten."

Shimura was about to snap something else, when a shadow fell over him and all of the classmates that had been not so secretly watching looked up.

"That's enough, Ryoto."

"Tou-san!" Shimura gasped.

The older Shimura yanked the younger out of the room.

The rest of the parents, who had been waiting impatiently to learn of their own child's ranks, flooded in, and the two bodies quickly disappeared in the throng.

The next day (the last day of class), Shimura returned as a much more sedate classmate, and immediately went about apologizing to Sensei Masaru and assuring him he understood that it was his own responsibility to improve his grade. The rest of the day saw Shimura going out of his way to not interact with any of his former gang, and make an active attempt to talk to the clan children, which did not go well—Sakura may have been the only one to actively try to stop him, but that did not mean that his actions were approved of.

Hell, even the Uchiha didn't approve of him and they had never shown the slightest inclination towards rest of the class.

The end of Sakura's second academy year was brought in by another survey. Unlike year one's, which was primarily a question of what careers they were curious about, this year the main purpose was to sign up for additional classes for next year. Each child was given a slip of paper to write down their ideal careers on, and another with a list of possible courses and instructions to choose two.

Chinmoku, universally and silently, agreed that they would break their clan's tradition: none would take the same classes. They were getting quite good at studying from each other, after all, and it would be best to get as much information as possible.

Juro went first, selecting basic medical training and battle strategy. Then Shin went, selecting diplomacy and interrogation for himself. Then Sakura selected cryptography and fuinjutsu. They, again, returned their papers first. Behind them (because they were now in the front row), the other Ino-Shika-Cho trio—zatsuon—hadn't figured out that it was alright to split up for their elective courses, and were now railing at each other in a desperate bid to get their way.

All in all, Sakura was very much looking forward to third year, as by all accounts it was the first that would be a truly ninja education.