The bandit camp, when they finally came across it, ended up being a surprisingly well-built establishment. It was clear that they'd been operating out of it for some time—likely intentionally traveling some distance to avoid being tracked back—but any bandits that stayed in position too long were inevitably spotted by one patrol team or another. They were in the middle of lunch (which looked to be wild pig) when the Konoha ninja first caught sight of them, picking at the meat and drinking heavily. Intel was that they'd just scored big robbing a bride traveling with her dowry about eight miles south, so they seemed to still be high off of that success rather than planning for the next one.

Sensei Inuzuka made a series of unfamiliar gestures too fast to follow, but Yasuo nodded and waved for Sakura to join him.

They spread out.

She and Yasuo were furthest left of where they'd started out, while Juro and Uchiha had barely moved at all. Shin and Takahashi had taken the right flank, while the Senseis had spread themselves between the groups.

Yasuo caught the eye of the Uchiha, then nodded.

Then he looked at her.

"Ready?" He mouthed.

She wanted to give him the same answer that she'd given Shin: no, she wasn't ready. Who could be ready for this? She was ten, for the gods' sake! Ten! Ten-year-olds shouldn't be learning how to kill, they should be in school and playing and happy and innocent.

She didn't know how much of that was Arden, but she didn't really care.

It was true all the same.

Still, she hadn't been born in a utopia.

She'd been born in a military dictatorship still too new for comfort, in a situation that was arguably 'best of the worst' but could never be called good.

She was overthinking this.

She nodded, and Yasuo glanced to the Uchiha again.

"Alright, see the one with the mustache? The actual mustache, not the shaving accident."

Sakura nodded.

"That's your target," Yasuo pulled out his weapon, looping a finger into the hole and letting the sharp ends stick out from either side of his fist. "When we go, you go straight to him—I'll defend you from anyone else. Your goal is to get your kunai inside his neck as quickly as possible. Got it?"

Sakura nodded.

Yasuo went back to watching Uchiha through the trees.

"On my mark… go!"

Sakura went, racing out of the woods like the man she was running toward was inside of them.

"Go! Go! Go!" Yasuo shouted beside her. He was much taller than her, already a teenager and built like a brickhouse, and that was a very good thing considering one of the bandit's first responses was to pick up a crossbow and start shooting.

Yasuo grabbed a chair and let it hit that, spraying out with bits of wood in every direction but at them.

She was at the man now, he was holding a blade, and she lifted the kunai up (she'd had it in her hands since they'd left that morning, positioned for the final move) and—

Froze.

The man went to slice her in half, but before he could Yasuo had redirected his arm, shoving him to the side and stabbing him through the elbow.

The man wasn't done yet, and he went to strangle her (she was weakest, and he wanted to use that.)

She tried to move her arm.

She couldn't.

Yasuo shoved the man back again, then went to fight back one of the man's friends.

The man charged at her again, and Yasuo hadn't turned back—didn't seem aware of the change—and she…

She…

She sliced.

The man gurgled as the blood rushed into his throat, and the wound spewed more of the red substance out, coating her in the iron-y liquid.

She gasped, and suddenly Yasuo was on top of her.

"It's okay, it's okay. You did good."

"The other—"

"I had them—they're already dead. Just wanted to give you the push you needed."

"Okay. Okay. I'm—I'm done?"

"Today? Yeah."

She stared at his body.

It didn't move.

"Can I… I need to sit down."

"Alright, can you walk?"

Sakura nodded.

"Alright, let's get you to the woods. You can sit there."

Sakura's ears were ringing. She'd killed a man. She'd killed a man. She'd killed a man.

Yasuo sat her on the ground facing away from the massacre, pulling out his waterskin as he did. "I'm going to wash you off, is that okay?"

Sakura nodded, and he splashed water onto her face, rubbing at her cheeks and mouth.

"Sorry. Neck wounds cause a lot of splatter."

Sakura nodded again. She didn't want to speak.

"Now I need you to drink some water, okay? Can you swallow?" He lifted the waterskin to her lips and, after a few seconds, she leaned forward and took a few huge gulps. "Good, good… Yeah, yeah, she's okay. Just a bit out of it… Yeah, okay. I'll just get her set up then I can help. Okay Sakura—you listening?"

Sakura forced herself to nod.

"Alright, good, that's good. So, what's going to happen is you're going to sit here, and take deep breaths, and rest, okay? You have your waterskin—it's right by your right hip. I'll be back in a minute, but for now you just rest."

Sakura nodded, then closed her eyes.

When she reopened them, it was much, much later. "-ura. Sakura!"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Right, we're going back to camp. Do you need help getting up?"

"No."

Yasuo waited as she forced herself onto her feet, then turned in the direction she remembered camp to be.

"Let's go."

They took off.

As they ran Sakura finally began to fall back into her body. She looked around. Shin was to the right of her, rather than all the way back, and he was very, very pale. Juro was being carried by Sensei—his leg was wrapped, but it didn't look bad.

"Should I—should I do anything, as team leader?" She gasped.

"No. You're good; you've just killed, so you only have to worry about yourself."

"You killed too."

"Wasn't my first, Sakura."

Camp looked the same.

Sakura went with Sensei Inuzuka first, washed all the blood off her clothes and herself, then went back to camp. After the boys were done too they lied down next to her, bracketing her as the three of them stared at the barely-visible branches just above them.

"You okay?" Sakura asked softly.

"Not at all," Shin said.

"I can't cry. Like, physically. I've been trying to," Juro said.

Sakura didn't say anything else, and neither did they.

They slept.

They arrived back in Konoha by the evening of the next day. Debriefing lasted until nightfall, and then Sensei grabbed her and Juro by the nape. "You stop too, Shin."

"I just want to go home," Shin said.

"And stare at your ceiling all night? No, you follow me."

He led them down several streets, leading them into a section of Konoha none of chinmoku had any need to frequent.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of a bar.

"I'm ten," Sakura said.

"I'm eleven," Shin said.

"I'm twelve," Juro said.

"I know," Sensei said, "but you've just killed, so you deserve a drink."

They entered.

Alcohol sucked, Sakura quickly found out. She coughed, hacking as the fiery liquid rebelled inside her throat. The other patrons of the bar laughed; they were ninja, the lot of them, and mostly older fellows, the type whose golden years had long passed. Shin laughed too.

"You try it then," Sakura thrust the drink under his nose. It crinkled, but he grabbed the proffered glass, taking a deep breath and then a swig.

He coughed and then Juro (on Sakura's other side, with his own drink) began coughing too.

"Oh, hell, who the hell drinks that on purpose?!"

Sensei smirked, swirling his own drink. "It grows on you."

Sakura made a face. "So do leeches, but that doesn't mean you should let them."

Sensei laughed—he was apparently much more emotive drunk—then gestured to the bartender. "Any food? They'll need something to sit the alcohol on."

"Coming up," he grunted.

Sakura grabbed the drink back and tried for another sip.

The taste wasn't growing on her that quickly.

"I don't like this."

Sensei nodded.

"I don't even like being a ninja."

"I assumed."

"I just want to—I want to figure out things, you know, and you have to be a ninja to do that."

"It is the most direct route."

"I don't like this."

Silence, again, reigned. Then it was Juro's turn to vent.

"I'm not even—I'm not allowed to treat patients in any capacity for another year, at least, and that's if I do stupidly well, but I'm allowed to kill? How is that fair? If you—if you succeed at, um, at healing, then that's great! And if you don't for a lot of injuries and illnesses and stuff it's not like you'll make it worse. But—but for killing, it's like… if you succeed, you've just killed someone, which isn't even a good thing to begin with. But if you fail, then, um, then you're dead. Guaranteed."

"My sister," Shin said, "Doesn't mind killing. She says it's for Konoha, and those she kills deserve it. But that's—like, who cares if they deserve it? I don't want to be the one doing it. Is that selfish? That's selfish, isn't it?"

They sat quietly for a while after that. The bartender brought them food—fried dough with meat, not even a specific kind of meal—and they ate it, sipping at the liquid all the while.

"I don't like being a ninja," Sakura said. "I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

"What do you want to be, then?" Shin said.

"An inventor."

"That's… that's—"

"A type of ninja, I know. But I don't see why killing someone is necessary to doing that job!"

"It is important," Sensei said, "to know what your inventions might do."

"But—but I can just invent nonviolent things!"

"Everything can and will be used in war. There is a reason why most modern inventions have come from shinobi, not nobility or businessmen or farmers."

"Yeah, I know," Sakura said. "So I've just slit someone's throat."

The drink was almost gone, now, so she swallowed the rest of it in one move.

"Hey!" Shin said, shoving at her. "What if I wanted some of the rest?"

"You're so drunk you couldn't even pick up the glass," Sakura said.

"That's not true!" He argued, but he didn't even attempt to prove her wrong. His face was lying on top of one of his arms over the bar, faced towards the rest of them as he took long, slow blinks, and Sakura guessed that he considered the act of even trying to raise his arm no longer worth the effort.

"I want to go home now," Juro said, looking around. He was still sitting up, but he was leaning on the bar heavily as he did so, not wanting to bother supporting his own weight any more than Shin did.

"Let's get the three of you home, then," Sensei said. "Juro, are you alright to get yourself to your compound?"

"It's just a twisted ankle!" Juro shouted, far too loud and far too affronted.

"I was referring to your drunkenness," Sensei replied drolly.

"Oh, oh yeah I'll be fine."

"Alright, I'm going to take Shin home myself."

"You didn't ask me if I needed help!" Sakura said.

He eyed her. "You're drunk, but not that drunk. You've had the least by far."

She supposed that was true.

"Remember, you have a week off. Your mother is aware, and of the reason why. Just stay home and relax, alright?"

"I know regulations!... the regulations. I know the regulations."

Sensei smirked. "Glad to hear it."

"I do too!" Juro said. Then he ran out of the bar to puke.

"…on second thought, I'll be leading each of you home," Sensei said. Sakura thought that was probably a good idea.