Chapter 2
Dawn caresses the petal locks of a small girl standing on the stone steps before the village library. It is Saturday, and the street is still quiet. The shops are still shuttered, and a lone pigeon pecks its way through the cracked remnants of a half-crushed senbei.
A sign is posted before the entrance: the library is closed today. But shinobi are allowed access at all hours, at least theoretically. Sakura squares her shoulders. She has a promise to keep, which means training to get to and theory to read up on. She pushes through the big double doors. She will get in.
A second set of doors greets her behind the ones she just passed through. They are sliding doors, and are usually kept open during official library hours. A stylized leaf is inscribed where the two doors meet at the center, with each side bearing half the seal. Sakura has seen them once before. She had been with her mom, and remembers with vivid clarity the bright glow of her mother's hand, the answering shine of the seal as it flashed a blinding blue, an overbright glare. She remembers her mother explaining how releasing chakra into the seal unlocks the doors, and allows the librarians to keep track of who has entered the building in case anything goes missing.
The mechanics are simple, but the trick is releasing chakra into the seal. Sakura furrows her brows. The Academy has yet to teach students how to release chakra; she has only emitted chakra through simple jutsus like henge, which are simpler in a way because the hand seals involved act as a conduit for her chakra, guiding it out from her body and changing it into a different form. To discharge a stream of pure chakra…
Closing her eyes in concentration, she gently rests a hand on the leaf engraving and carefully feels for the space near her abdomen where physical and spiritual energy meet and mix, spinning and twisting together into a swirling mass of chakra. With a quick, mental tug, she pulls a tendril of energy towards her fingers, inhaling deeply at the feeling of it stretching from her center up her torso, through her shoulder, down her arm, until it reaches her fingers. The she pushes. There is a weak fizzle, and a tingle at the tips of her digits. Sakura opens her eyes, ceasing the flow and feeling the rest her chakra receding back to her abdomen.
Nothing happens. The seal remains cold and colorless, the cleanly-etched design staring back at her impassively. 'Not enough chakra...', something in the back of her mind whispers.
Biting her lip, Sakura tries again. Slowly draws out a strand of chakra, guides it steadily towards her hand, and pushes it out through her fingers. 'Sustain it!' Pressing harder against the door, she continues to draw chakra slowly, evenly to her fingers, releasing it into the seal bit-by-bit. Her hand doesn't glow, and the seal doesn't flash incandescently the way it did when her mother did it. In fact, nothing happens.
Sakura frowns, then gasps, because the part of the seal below her fingers is bleeding to blue. Slowly, color is pooling into the insignia and flowing towards the the outer edges of the seal. Sakura channels more chakra, watching as the rest of the design floods with color. There is a soft click, and the doors slide open.
With a wide grin, Sakura walks into the library.
Diving straight into the section on chakra manipulation, she peruses the shelves for a book on the basics of chakra control. Iruka-sensei told her she had potential the night before, and Sakura is determined to start improving immediately. Pulling out a scroll titled The Fundamentals of Chakra: Control and Theory, she makes her way over to a table and begins to read.
By late afternoon, her head is swimming with information. The first scroll she picked turns out to be of little use, since it mostly covers ideas she had already learned through Academy texts. She does learn some interesting facts, though. Apparently genjutsu requires very fine chakra control, which may explain her aptitude for the subject. Iron control also allows for the practice of medical jutsu, which relatively few people can perform. According to the text, the shinobi currently considered to have the best chakra control in the Five Nations is a medical ninja known as Tsunade-hime, who actually hails from Konoha. Beyond facts like these, though, The Fundamentals of Chakra: Control and Theory teaches her little she doesn't already know.
A second scroll turns out much better. Basic Exercises on Chakra Control and Expansion expounded on several methods to practice chakra control, such as an activity called 'leaf-concentration', along with more advanced ones like 'tree-running' and 'water-walking'. It even provides an accompanying illustration of a man walking sideways up a tree, which Sakura stares at in wonder. There is just something so extremely cool about the abilities shinobi possess-definitely something she wants to try! The bottom of the scroll also details ways to expand on existing chakra reserves. Sakura reads that section eagerly, recalling that her own reserves are currently below average in class. Perhaps unsurprisingly, physical energy can be expanded through rigorous physical exercise unaided by chakra, while spiritual energy is best developed through meditation.
Studiously jotting all of the new information down on a blank parchment, Sakura returns the two scrolls to their respective bookshelves, mentally sketching out a training regimen as she does so. She decides on half an hour of meditation, followed by a jog around as much of the village as she can manage. Chakra control exercises can follow after.
She has just returned to her table when the sound of sliding doors shakes her from her thoughts. No one else had entered building all day. The new visitor looks just as surprised as she feels.
"Wait, kid, what are you doing here? The library isn't open to the public today!" It's a lanky teen with dark hair standing straight up in a haphazard tuft, forehead protector wrapped crookedly at his hairline. Thin eyebrows furrow at her over brown-rimmed sunglasses.
"Uh," Sakura manages. "I was just, studying?"
An eyebrow shoots up. "So you're in the Academy, right? Who let you in off-hours?"
Sakura blinks. "No one. I came here myself."
The man gives her a look that can only properly be described as 'flummoxed'. Then he chuckles. "Alright, alright. I won't question you. But just a heads-up for next time: take a table near the back, 'kay? Academy students aren't supposed to be here during off-hours, and the next person you meet might be more insistent about who your mysterious benefactor is." He flashes her a teasing grin.
"Wait, but I don't have a 'mysterious benefactor'," Sakura tilts her head. "And kaa-san told me anyone can come in as long as you release chakra into the seal for the library's records."
"Right, but you didn't unlock the seal. You are an Academy student, right?"
"Yeah, but I did unlock the seal!" Cheeks puffing out involuntarily, Sakura somehow manages to simultaneously pout and glare at the bewildering stranger.
Oddly enough, the man is pouting right back. "And how did you do that?"
"By releasing chakra into it," Sakura responds dryly, finding it hard to be nervous around this skinny teen with the ridiculous hair.
A second later, she finds herself dragged out the entrance.
"Show me," the teen demands, turning her towards the once-again locked doors. With a huff, Sakura carefully channels chakra through her fingers and relights the stylized leaf symbol, and the doors swiftly slide open like before. The teen is gaping at her in a rather undignified manner.
"Since when did Academy kids start being able to do that!?"
Not knowing how exactly to respond, Sakura quietly shuffles back to her table to pack up her notes.
A shadow falls over her. "'Leaf-concentration' exercise?" The guy leans over her shoulder, "You could probably skip that. It's gonna be a waste of time for you. Possibly the tree-running one, too." He mumbles something about crazy kids under his breath.
Sakura blinks. "Who are you, anyway?"
He starts. "Oh yeah, I forgot that I didn't wear my vest today! Name's Aoba, jounin." He sticks out a hand. "I'm having a forced day off right now, since I just got discharged from the hospital." He rakes his other hand through his hair, making it even messier.
"Aa." Sakura shyly grasps his proffered palm for a handshake. "I'm Sakura." She smiles softly. "Why were you in the hospital?"
"Aah, well," a sheepish grin crosses his features, "I accidentally got myself gutted with a kunai on a mission."
Sakura stifles a gasp. "And you're okay?!"
"Better than ever! It was my fault, anyway. All it all it was a pretty lame affair," he laughs.
"Well I'm glad you're better now. It was nice to meet you, Aoba-san."
"Same here! Sorry for bothering you Sakura-chan-although, I still stand by my earlier advice of sticking to the back tables!" He slaps her back good-naturedly.
"Okay. I will remember your advice next time!" Sakura blushes.
He waves as he heads deeper into the rows of shelves, "See ya around, kid!"
With a deep bow, Sakura gathers up her papers and slips out the exit.
It is early evening by the time she arrives home, and the house is silent. Throwing together a quick meal of umeboshi onigiri, Sakura shoves an extra rice ball into the fridge for lunch the next day. She studies her notes as she scarfs down her dinner. The empty house is a bit unnerving at night, still and hollow, so she showers early and crawls into bed.
It's still early when she wakes up the next day. The slumbering shops are just starting to stir outside, and a group of grocers are setting up stands of fruit and cabbages at the square two blocks away. Sakura can just spy the tops of their carts through her window. A middle-aged man at a tamagoyaki street-stall begins pouring out his first batch of omelettes for the day ahead.
She had meant to wake up at dawn. Slightly behind schedule, Sakura throws on a dark blue kimono-shirt and black shorts before running into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Grabbing the onigiri left in the fridge the night before and a bottle of water, Sakura toes on her sandals and sets off for the training grounds.
Training ground six is a wide glade easily the size of three other training grounds put together, surrounded on three sides by an oxbow lake. A dense foliage borders the water, leaving the grassy center bare. In the middle of the field stands a group of training posts and dummies, a few pinned with targets for kunai and shuriken practice. It is the first unoccupied training field Sakura happens upon, and she readily makes her way to the base of a large oak to deposit her water and lunch in the shade before beginning her stretches.
Savoring the welcome burn in her muscles, Sakura makes sure to thoroughly loosen every knot, every crick before starting her slow jog around the village. It wouldn't do to sprain an ankle halfway up the Hokage Mountain.
She needn't have worried. Barely did she pass the one-fifth mark around Konoha before her she begins to run out of breath, and fifteen minutes later her legs are cramping terribly. A mixture of irritation and disappointment in herself spurs her to push her body harder, resolving to make it back to training ground six before collapsing. 'One more step,' she thinks, 'one more step.'
It is a mistake. Hardly five minutes later, her lungs are burning, her vision swimming. Sweat pours in rivulets down her face, her steps falter, and inevitably, she falls prey to a stray pebble. With a loud gasp, Sakura trips and stumbles, and would have gone sprawling in the dirt, except she doesn't.
"Are you alright?" It is a quiet voice, and Sakura subconsciously relaxes against the firm grip on her shoulder.
"Yes. Thank you for that." The hand loosens. It is a boy, probably no more than five or six years older than her, dark hair framing his face, a bag of vegetables in one hand.
"It is no problem."
"I would have been eating dirt if it wasn't for you, so really, thank you."
"Aa." The boy inclines his head slightly. A small smile brightens his features considerably, and lightens the deep stress lines on his face.
"Are you okay?" It slips out unbidden from her lips, and Sakura blushes furiously. "I-I mean, you just look tired, is all."
The boy considers her for a moment, then gives a graceful shrug. "I am fine, just a little stressed from family duties."
"O-oh," Sakura stutters. "W-well, I hope things get better soon. I'm sure everything will be fine!" She stares at her feet. Next to his unflappable elegance, she can't help feeling horribly gawky in comparison, chest still heaving from her run.
He is silent for a moment. By the time she looks back up at him, the boy is giving her a small nod. "Aa." He sweeps his ponytail over his shoulder. "Thank you." Not knowing what to say, Sakura nervously fiddles with her shirt sleeve. The boy's charcoal eyes skim over her sweaty form. "Why were you running?"
"Oh," Sakura repeats. "I was just training." She smiles at the word. It curls warmly around her mouth, like an achievement. "Oh!" Her eyes widen. "Speaking of training, I should get back to it!"
Sakura gives the boy a hasty bow. "Thank you again! My name is Haruno Sakura, hopefully we can meet again soon!" With another nod and smile, she hurries off as fast as her tired legs can manage, forgetting to ask the stranger for his name.
"Aa. Good luck, Sakura-san." Warm sable eyes follow her down the road.
Sakura is starving by the time she returns to training ground six, and wastes no time in scarfing down her onigiri and water, wistfully wishing she had brought more. The early afternoon breeze calmly ruffles her hair and clothing, drying off the trails of sweat running down her chest and back. With a slow inhale and exhale, Sakura settles herself against the thick oak trunk and tries to meditate.
Unfortunately, Sakura doesn't really know how to meditate, and ends up just sitting for a while in the shade blankly. She tries to clear her mind and calm her breathing, but stray thoughts keep meandering through her brain, and focusing on nothing turns out to be much more complicated than it seems.
Gradually, though, Sakura starts to become aware of a slight thrumming within her, a constant hum of unrest in an otherwise sea of forced calm. It is her chakra, ceaselessly swirling, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, in an erratic symphony of beat. Upon closer investigation, Sakura discovers pathways flooded with chakra throughout her limbs, contrary to her preconception that all of her chakra was concentrated at her center. Subconsciously furrowing her brows, she also notes that the chakra in her pathways is stagnant and still, and in some areas no more than a thin coating, like a layer of varnish, around her chakra channels.
Mentally returning to the swirling mass of chakra at her center, Sakura begins to meticulously draw out tendrils of chakra, guiding it through her chakra pathways much like she did the day before to unlock the leaf seal at the library. It takes the better part of an hour, but eventually Sakura is able to guide her chakra into cycling smoothly throughout her body in an endless stream flooding through her body in one long current of energy. Surprisingly, she finds that maintaining a sedate flow takes minimal concentration once started, and also leaves her limbs feeling stronger and lighter. It is a good feeling.
The flowing chakra also seems to sweep away the aches in her muscles, easing any cramps and soreness still lingering after her run. Sakura unfolds her legs and stretches, refreshed, reveling in the feeling of energy that courses through her arms and legs with her still-circling chakra. Plucking a small elm leaf from a low-lying branch of a neighboring tree, she places it on her forehead. According to her notes, the 'leaf-concentration' exercise requires the user to channel chakra to the area where the leaf touches skin, making it stick to the forehead.
It is absurdly easy. So much so that Sakura spends a few minutes spinning around to make sure it's not a fluke, even going so far as to pull at the leaf to test the strength of the connection. The end of the leaf rips off, leaving her with half a leaf stuck to her forehead. Sakura severs the connection.
Something like giddiness bubbles up her chest and she laughs, bright and gleeful. 'Aoba-san was right,' she remembers. And, 'tou-san will be proud.' Iruka-sensei would be proud, too.
'Tree-running', however, would probably be harder. Not one to be reckless, Sakura wanders through the copse of thick trunks until she reaches the lake. A huge beech tree leans over the still water, heavy branches stretching their delicate fingers towards their reflections below. 'That one,' Sakura thinks, and makes her way to its base.
Focusing chakra into her feet, Sakura places her right foot onto the trunk. The scroll had stated that the concept of tree-walking is very similar to that of the 'leaf-concentration' exercise: channel enough chakra to stick to the trunk, then run-or walk, which is apparently much harder-up normally. Too much chakra, and the bark will crack and repel her into the water. Too little will 'unstick' her from the trunk, also sending her into the water. With a quick turn of the head, Sakura checks to make sure that no stones are waiting beneath the clear surface of the lake, just smooth sand and leaves.
Satisfied, she tries to place her other foot on the trunk. Her first foot slips immediately. 'Not enough chakra.' A whisper.
Left foot on the ground again, Sakura channels chakra beneath her other foot until it sticks to the tree no matter how hard she tugs her leg back. A soft, dim glow surrounds her foot. Then, she channels chakra into the other leg and places it on the trunk. It works.
Problem is, now she is stuck. She can only walk higher up the tree if she releases the chakra in her right foot, but that would leave her with only have one limb attached to the trunk. If she cannot channel chakra to her foot again fast enough, she would end up toppling into the water. With a grimace, Sakura steps back down.
'Okay, let's try running first.' She guides chakra through her legs again. 'All or nothing.' She gauges the distance up. 'Let's go!' With a soft cry, Sakura rushes up. Her excitement and apprehension blurs the bark beneath her feet, wind whistling in her ears as she runs.
"Woohoo!" She shouts into the evening air, alighting on a branch. A breeze caresses her face as she laughs. "I did it!"
'Is this what it feels like to be a ninja?'
Now Sakura knows why running is so much easier than walking up a tree. Whilst walking requires an incredibly precise timing of the channeling and release of chakra in very exact amounts, like the switching of a circuit, running only requires her to channel some chakra in a steady stream. She only needs to channel enough chakra for her to be able to stick to the trunk for a brief moment, leaving the connection loose enough that she can pull her feet off the bark without severing her chakra flow. In that way, she can propel herself up the tree without stopping until she reaches a good resting place, like a branch, or decides to stick herself firmly to one spot on the trunk. 'I can't believe I never realized how amazing chakra is before!'
Getting down proves to be much messier. With a deep breath, Sakura charges down the trunk, eyes screwed shut at the steep slope directly below her, and barrels straight into the lake. The water is cold and deep. Gasping and sputtering, she paddles back to shore, clothes sopping. An eyebrow ticks in ire. "Of course I would barge straight into water going down the trunk."
At least now she is inured to the chill of the lake, because Sakura ends up taking many more dips that afternoon. It takes five before she gets comfortable enough with timing her chakra output to walk up to her previous branch, taking multiple breaks as she climbs-standing parallel to the ground is giving her abs a torturous workout. By then, the sun is almost about to kiss the distant mountains, and her chakra levels are getting low. Sakura breathes in deeply. She can't help feeling that she is wasting a lot of chakra she needn't be on this tree-walking exercise. She walks up the tree again.
'For some reason, I am positive that I'm not using too much chakra to stick to the branch.' She frowns deeply, and thinks.
'Maybe, it's the way I'm doing it.'
An idea forms. She remembers the spiked shoes at hardware store windows, the men who buy them before vacations up north, to go ice climbing. 'Maybe something like that...'
Concentrating, Sakura urges her chakra to form sharp spikes, face screwed up with the effort. This time, her foot doesn't glow, but still attaches firmly to the trunk. Taking that as a good sign of chakra conservation, Sakura arduously plods up to her branch. She feels drained by the time she reaches the top. It does save a lot of chakra, she realizes, but not as much as she expected. It is also much more mentally exhausting than the sticking method. Keeping her chakra sharpened into spikes requires constant control, and Sakura is surprised that her chakra is still cooperating with her after her blatant overuse of it. If her chakra had been like a muscle, Sakura knows it would have long seized up by now from overextension, especially since it has never been conditioned so vigorously before. She hopes it will work with her for a little while longer.
She has another idea to try.
Thinner spikes are even harder to create, but they save her even more chakra than her previous attempt. Unfortunately, they are not strong enough to support her full weight on one foot. At least, not yet. With bated breath and a silent prayer, Sakura puts her right foot on the trunk and creates the spikes again, but this time at a downward angle. Wiggling her leg, she checks that they hold, the new angle giving her more leverage even with the thinner spikes. With a cry of exhilaration, she climbs up.
Collapsing on top of her branch, Sakura gulps in air greedily, sweating from the concentration it took to get there. The setting sun lights the leaves around her into little windows of gold. Below her, the lake is painted in rosé watercolor. She must leave soon, as she is not so intrepid as to tree-walk in the dark. 'But first…' Sakura checks her chakra reserves. She is low, but her most recent trek up the tree had used very little chakra. Rolling onto her stomach, she considers the branch beneath her palms. One last experiment can't hurt.
Gripping the branch tightly with both hands, she carefully shifts off the branch until she is hanging vertically over the water. If she wasn't concentrating so hard, she would have laughed; she knows she must look a sight bobbing over the lake like a giant, overgrown melon. Spreading her palms apart, she swings her feet up until they are braced against the bottom of the branch between her palms. Then she channels chakra into her legs, forming them into straight spikes. But she doesn't let go of the branch with her palms. She is not confident the spikes alone will keep her attached to the branch, and a quick glance down at the chilly water below strengthens her resolve not to test her weight as is. Closing her eyes, she zeroes in on the spikes at her feet, buried into the branch, and wills them to split, like the metal clasps on manila envelopes. She counts backwards from three, and releases her hands.
Sakura shrieks as she falls. Except a second later, she is no longer falling, but swinging, feet attached to the branch as if nailed there. The branch sways wildly as her laughter echoes through the trees. "Kami-sama!" she whoops. "This is unbelievable! This is crazy!" The feeling of the wind, of doing something that should be impossible...it is thrilling.Her reflection laughs back at her.
And then the blood rushes to her head. "Crap," Sakura gasps, and tries to swing back onto the branch. Instead she wobbles, body too tired to obey her mind's demands. "Wait-" a wave of vertigo sweeps through her, and her focus lapses, just for a second. She falls.
Her scream is swallowed by the freezing water as it rolls smoothly over her head. By the time she resurfaces, her previously semi-dry clothes are once again leaden with water, and shivers rack her small frame.
Dusk falls over her glaring visage, eyes trained on the still-swaying branch.
"I deserve some dango."
The next week passes by uneventfully. On Monday, she walks into class with her head held high, pastel hair tied back with a dark blue ribbon she found in her closet. She sits by the window of the second-to-last row of desks, and answers exactly one question. She flashes Iruka-sensei her brightest smile when she gets her test back, and runs to the library as soon as school ends. Her bullies are nowhere to be seen; Sakura has a suspicion that they are sitting through a very long lecture. She spends the afternoon reading about chakra meditation exercises.
On Tuesday, Sakura answers two questions in class, and manages to run one quarter of the way around Konoha before collapsing. She counts that as a win. She also rekindles her relationship with her best friend the Beech Tree, and her other friend the Lake. By Wednesday, she is able to stand upside-down on her branch without breaking a sweat. A bit of experimentation leads her to discover that cycling her chakra in a certain way can coax her blood into circling in a similar pattern, preventing it from coalescing at her head, and the trick of splitting her spikes and angling them become second nature with a bit of practice. It is odd, but manipulating her chakra is like stretching a muscle she had never used before, but has always known how to operate.
On Thursday, Sakura confidently exits the Academy after class and strolls out the front gate.
"Oi, Forehead!" She turns. It is a purple-haired girl in a striped blouse, followed by a smaller girl with spiky maroon hair.
"Ami."
"Ami?! It's Ami-sama to you, Billboard-Brow! And what's with the ribbon? Your forehead's shining like a beacon, Fuki could see it from across the school!"
She wants to run, but musters up her courage. "What I do with my hair is none of your business."
"Oh yeah?" The girls step closer, "Well your forehead is a public disturbance! Honestly, it should be banned. I'm getting chills just looking at it!" Ami sneers. "Want me to wrap it for you?"
Sakura balls her fists half in fear, half in anger. "Leave me alone. My forehead is fine."
"Fine? It's disgusting!" Ami pauses briefly to smile. 'Disgusting' is a new word she learned, and she rather likes the sound of it when used against the pink-haired freak. "And what do you think you're pulling with Iruka-sensei, huh?" Behind Ami, Fuki glares and punches her left fist with her right.
"But I should have known," Ami continues her monologue after a high, shrill laugh. "You're way too weak to pull your own any sort of fight. Of course you would have to go crying to a teacher." She nods at Fuki, and they both begin to advance towards her. "It's too bad, there's no Iruka-sensei to save you now," she leers, "and I should probably let you know that it'll be useless to try and report us. Fuki and I," she slings an arm around the other girl's shoulder, "will be backed up by our clans if anything happens." They both laugh. "You should have thought about that before you tried to make trouble with a real shinobi, you weakling."
But Sakura has had enough. Drawing herself up to her full height, she glares back at the two taller girls, ignoring the subtle shaking in her knees. "I don't need a clan to win against jerks like you!" which, for an eight-year-old, is really about as intense as insults go. The two bullies halt their approach temporarily at the unexpected reaction.
Sakura takes a deep breath. " And I am more of a shinobi than you will ever be." Subconsciously channeling chakra to her legs in her anxiety to escape, she steps forward and gives Ami a hard shove. And then she runs.
She doesn't stop to see how close behind her the girls are, or think about where she is going. She hears the distant echo of screaming and scrambling feet, and she just runs, until the buildings are blurring and her eyes are tearing and all she can hear is the thump thump of her heart in her ears. It occurs to Sakura that she is running a lot faster than normal. A lot faster than she should be able to. In fact, she isn't so much running as rocketing down the path, raising a trail of dust behind her. She stumbles to a stop.
Before her stretch the scattered line of trees marking the beginning of the training grounds. Sakura isn't even out of breath. Blinking and checking her body in confusion, she pats her way down to her calves, surprised that the muscles are not the slightest bit sore. It isn't until she finds chakra pumping through her legs in swift, edgy currents that she finally understands.
The next hour is spent running around training ground six on chakra enhanced feet until she nearly crashes into a tree. At some point, Sakura discovers that releasing pulses of chakra from the heel of each foot during takeoff propels her forward just as effectively as continuous emission, and uses a lot less chakra. Sometime after that, she discovers that it's quite hard to change direction in mid-air, especially when objects are approaching ten times faster than normal. Hence, her near miss with the tree.
Folding her legs together, Sakura then spends an hour practicing meditation exercises detailed in the book she read on Monday. She guides chakra through her limbs at varying speeds, and spins the unruly mass of chakra at her center until it revolves in a homogenous sphere of mixing energies. She also finds tiny chakra vessels leading from her main chakra pathways up to the surface of her skin in numerous spots along her body. In some areas, such as her hands and feet, a bit of focus allows the chakra to leak out onto the surface of her skin, forming a soft glow. In most places, though, trying to drive her chakra through the miniscule vessels is like trying to force her way through a bolted iron door with her bare shoulders. She gives up eventually, when the last rays of sun have long been swallowed by the restless trees. All in all, it is a good day.
On Friday, Sakura confidently exits the Academy after class and strolls out the front gate. Nobody bothers her. Grinning, she heads to the library. Her parents are returning today, and she has less time than usual to train. Plucking a few scrolls off the shelves, she spends an hour studying several basic taijutsu katas, and another reading a manuscript titled Creating the Seal. The writing is faded, and the scroll unsigned. On the flap is inked a stylized leaf, similar to the one engraved on the library doors, which is what originally compels Sakura to pick it up. Unable to make much sense of the dense scribbles and complex symbols, she eventually checks it out of the library, deciding to try deciphering the mysterious text later. Hurrying to the market, she purchases fresh vegetables and fish and potatoes for curry, as well as a box of fresh mochi from a nearby teahouse. Groceries under one arm and scroll in the other, she makes her way back home.
For the first time since her parents left, she turns on all the lights and pulls up the kitchen windows, allowing the evening breeze to waft into the house and blow away a week's worth of stale dust and air. Jumping onto a stool, she cooks up some rice and scales the fish and gets started on the vegetables, peeling and slicing the potatoes. Dusk has fallen by the time she is finished with the curry, and the house is a castle of fire spilling light through gauzy curtains into the darkness. Sakura is stirring a small pot of miso soup when a leaden fist knocks on the door.
Jumping off her stool in excitement, she runs to the door before stopping with a frown. Her parents don't knock.
The door opens to a dark-clothed statue. Light from the kitchen reflects off a smooth white mask with rounded ears, empty eye-holes circled in red. Child and visitor regard each other in silence.
"Your parents are dead."
There is no inflection in the words, and the monster's painted mouth peers down impassively, motionless.
"Their bodies will be buried tomorrow."
Sakura just stares.
The mask lifts toward the sky.
"Your mother's name will be added to the Memorial Stone."
"And," Sakura wets her lips. Her mouth is filled with cement. "Tou-san..." A whisper.
For the first time, the weight of the stranger's heavy gaze burns through her.
"Your father was captured and interrogated."
A cutting pause.
"Eight shinobi died today." A cold wind whistles down the street. "Because of stolen intel."
The stranger's cloak snaps in the gale,
"Your father died,"
Stirring up dust in her eyes,
"A traitor."
Dust in her throat.
And then the stranger vanishes, and Sakura is left standing on the doorstep, staring into the dark, a stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest.