CHAPTER 8 ~ Lies.

Sakura, tell us exactly the reason why you're in your current state.

And so the horror show started.

Four-years-old Sakura was playing with shurikens. Throwing them as far as she could and waiting for her grandpa to bring them back was her favourite game.

She loved her grandpa. He was always supportive of whatever the little girl wished to do, and wasn't as strict as her parents were. This, for Naruto and the rest of Sakura Rescue Team, was a tangible feeling. That memory was extremely heartfelt, completely merging each and every one of the intruders into the scene unfolding before them.

Young Sakura was now roaring in laugher as her small grandpa failed to throw the last weapon back at her. He wasn't a shinobi, even though his agility and reflexes were astounding for his age. Many times had he received offers to take special classes and serve the village as a ninja, however the old man had always declined : he would proudly state that he was already raising a great shinobi, and that the little boy was his pledge of loyalty to Konoha. When Kizashi simply made it to being a regular ninja, his father was not disappointed nor embarrassed. He didn't switch his expectations on his granddaughter either ; he just knew that she was going to excel in whatever she would do.

"Oji-chan, just flicker your wrist !" Sakura exclaimed with a chuckle. Her eyes were sparkling, full of joy.

Those eyes abruptly turned curious as the old man approached his granddaughter with a tiny velvet box. "This is for you, Sakii."

Inside was a beautifully crafted shuriken, with a small cherry blossom carved on one of its blades. The child was mesmerised. She jealously cherished that present for weeks, until one snowy evening, it disappeared. Sakura had searched everywhere in vain. She was bawling her eyes out in front of her angered parents, yelling at her to be more careful with her stuff and telling her exactly how much of an airhead she was. The entire evening was spent like this, so nobody noticed the grandpa hastily leaving the house, not till he came back, freezing and drenched, with the prized shuriken in hand.

Shortly after the old man was stuck in bed with a cold. His state hadn't been alarming at first, but it worsened. Sakura would spend almost all day with him, slightly reassured when her grandpa pinky promised her that everything would be alright.

Then one day he suddenly passed. The funeral was short and simple, which made the young Sakura cry even more. Snot and tears were spilling on her brand new dress, but she didn't care the least. She didn't want to wear that stupid dress. She just wished to see her grandpa, alive and well.

"Sakura !! Stop crying, you're ruining the dress I rented ! It's expensive, you ungrateful brat. Stop being so sensitive, gosh."

Mebuki angrily snapped at her heartbroken daughter, bothered by the thought of the money she'd have to add for damage to the already high price of the dress. Tilting her face closer to her husband's, she mindlessly mumbled to him something to which he grimly nodded. Sadly, it was loud enough for Sakura to hear.

"I guess killing her grandfather wasn't enough for her, she has to steal our money too."

The girl ran away.

Sakura reappeared, a year older this time. She was standing in front of the shinobi Academy doors with her parents behind her, both adults frowning in displeasure.

"I filed the application form. You can't stop me."

The ever-bubbly pink haired girl had grown. Her tone wasn't excited, she wasn't laughing to her heart's content. Her eyes, that gaze that used to be teasing and full of stars, weren't sparkling anymore. Sakura wasn't looking at her parents, but her face showed all the determination her voice had let out.

Kizashi sighed in a defeated manner. "We know, Sakura. We already signed the paper."

Said girl clenched her fist, crumpling the sheet she tightly held. When she shifted her feet to face her parents, all resolution left her. She was holding back tears of anger and helplessness in front of those parents that didn't support her, not in the slightest. "Then why did you meet with Lord Hokage to tell him I wasn't serious about my admission ? Why did you say it was just a trial ?!" The teardrops began streaming down her face. However her mother's cold voice sobered Sakura's burst of emotion instantly.

"Because we don't believe in you."

And with that, indifferently, her parents walked away.

Sakura came home a little later than usual because of her rough training that day. She was seven now, top of her class at the Academy and persevering in anything they made her do. Today had been more physical than mental, therefore the girl was exhausted. She just needed a bath and a good night's sleep. She'd skip the meal, since her parents were probably in the kitchen. She didn't want to risk seeing them.

"Skipping a meal ? Are you trying to find an excuse to pass out and leave the Academy ?"

Sakura halted. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she changed her course and entered the kitchen, where her mother was childishly smirking at her as she raised one of her eyebrows. "So ?"

"Good evening to you too. I was about to eat, I just wanted to take a bath before."

"Well, since you're here, let's have dinner. And while we're at it, why not talk about your results at the Academy ?"

The room had become a battlefield, a war breaking out between mother and daughter, both glaring intensely.

"Fine." Sakura promptly sat down, picking her knife up and stabbing the piece of chicken her mother had served her.

"Tell us, when are you planning to stop this act ?"

Sakura had to control herself to not completely destroy the innocent piece of chicken. Mebuki was resting her head on her joined hands, smiling slyly at her daughter. "I'm doing great there, thanks. I'm the smartest and only Sasuke-kun manages to beat me sometimes because of how good he is in physical training."

Mebuki snorted. "I'm sure he is. I mean, with those incompetent throws you do, even the dumbest of your class can beat you."

Sakura's hold on the knife tightened. "Uzumaki-san can't beat me. And I don't see what you're talking about. I'm very precise and I throw quite far."

"So far that you can't even find your weapons afterwards and other people have to get them for you, dying in the process."

That was it. Sakura forcefully let go of her cutlery and scraped the legs of her chair on the floor, leaving the room with as much noise as she could, anything to block her father's quiet whisper, "How could you become a ninja if you kill the ones you're supposed to protect…"

Sakura, looking about the same age as in the previous memory, was sobbing on the porch, regularly glancing at her house's front door debating whether or not she should go in, when it suddenly swinged open. Kizashi gaped at his weeping daughter, dumbfounded to find her there. "Sakura ? What are you… Wait."

There it was again.

"Did you get expelled from the Academy ?"

Always. It always came back to the Academy.

She had been bullied for having a big forehead, and it wasn't the first time something like this happened. Sakura tiredly tried explaining this to her father, who simply nodded and muttered that in this case, she wasn't crying for a really important matter. Kizashi closed the door, not caring whether his daughter wanted to go inside.

"Were you at the cemetery again ?"

Sakura, slumping and looking around nine, was bowing her head in front of her dominating mother. Mebuki seemed greatly annoyed, disgusted even, more than the Sakura Rescue Team had ever witnessed. She was crossing her arms, using their difference in height to intimidate the pink haired girl. "What about your chores ? The dishes are still dirty. Your room isn't clean. And I'm not even mentioning the laundry."

"Oji-chan deserves more attention than the laundry."

Sakura had declared this in a quiet but steady tone. She rarely talked back to her parents, and never raised her voice with them. Mebuki was taken aback for a moment before she fully sneered in open repugnance. "Your grandfather lies in a grave. He can't feel your attention, and if he could he'd hate every single moment of it."

Sakura flinched. Her knuckles whitened as she felt tears pooling in her eyes, shaking from hurt and frustration. Her voice went up an octave, without getting louder. "Oji-chan doesn't hate me."

"Hate you ? He completely despises you ! Who wouldn't be disgusted by their murderer ?!"

Sakura had enough. Tears of rage were threatening to spill, and she had to control herself to not land a hit on her mother. Instead, she put as much venom in her voice as she could and raised it louder than she ever did, lifting her face and planting her glare into Mebuki's, facing her head on.

"I. DIDN'T. KILL HIM !! HE WAS ALREADY SICK AND HE CHOSE TO GO OUTSIDE THAT NIGHT, HE CHOSE TO GO THERE FOR ME, I NEVER TOLD HIM TO DO THAT !!!"

Sakura wasn't talking back to her mother. She was putting plenty of efforts to not go beyond shouting at her.

She slightly calmed down as her voice broke from sheer emotion, her gaze saddening into her mother's shocked eyes.

"And you know what ? The only murderer here is you. You've never visited his grave and you act as if you've forgotten him, as if he's just a pile of junk somewhere under our feet that you'd rather get rid of."

And so Sakura got out of the house, Mebuki being the one hurt and left behind for the first time in the young girl's life.

Sound was distorted, as if far away. The scenery was blurry, shadows taking monstrous shapes and a dim light shaking in the dark. A ten years old Sakura blinked and got up from her bed, wobbling as her vision gradually cleared. Checking the time -late at night-, the kid wondered what had woken her up until she picked up a faint noise outside her room.

Her parents were fighting.

Shuddering, Sakura slowly approached the door, slightly cracking it open and peeking out in the corridor. She couldn't understand exactly what they were saying, so she hesitantly tiptoed towards the kitchen, where the noise was coming from. Positioning herself behind the wall, Sakura managed to fully follow the discussion.

"Of all things, she wants to become a bloody ninja !"

Mebuki's harsh whispers were barely contained, almost sounding like actual yells.

"Honey, you know how she is… always eccentric… "

Kizashi was quieter, although the strain in his usual mumbles was raising his voice a few decibels more than normally.

"Eccentric ?! You mean totally fucking crazy !! She doesn't have a care in the world and ABSOLUTELY no common sense !!!"

Sakura didn't need to guess who they were talking about. It was obvious.

"She's gonna die, dear. Die."

"Mebuki… you know they won't give her any dangerous missions…"

"You bet. But you know what ? I don't care anymore. I'm done worrying for some delusional who doesn't know her own limits. She's too weak for taijutsu, too… too delicate for the hard life of a shinobi, and… and… !"

Mebuki's voice was getting louder and louder. She was panting from the intensity of her feelings, red in the face and hands gripping tight the corners of the dining table. Kizashi's expression faintly softened as he lifted a hand to squeeze his wife's shoulder.

"Oh Mebuki… you're worried about Sakura's safety, aren't you dear ?"

His lips were almost contorted into a smile. Almost.

Mebuki smacked his hand off, pushing him aside brutally to pick up an empty plate and shove it in the sink. "Nope. I'm done. She does whatever she wants. I don't care. Whether she succeeds or dies in a filthy ditch, I. Don't. Care. I won't have to pay for the Academy fee of that pathetic child." The woman stretched herself and yawned exaggeratedly. "Ah, how good it will be not to have a kid whine about her grandpa when she killed him herself !"

Kizashi visibly cringed. He bowed his head for a minute, his breath hitching as Mebuki started humming while she washed her single plate.

"Maybe… maybe my father was sick… he was sick even before that night…"

Mebuki instantly froze. Eyes wide, she turned around to face her timid husband, menacingly slowly.

"What did you just say ?"

Her tone was a warning, however Kizashi didn't yield. His head was still down, but his eyes were shyly staring up front, fixed in Mebuki's piercing glare.

"Sakura didn't kill my father."

For the first time since his father's death, Kizashi had spoken loud and clear, without a mumble or hesitation. He had stated his opinion without budging, not caring about the consequences, and all to defend his daughter.

"Are you protecting Sakura ?"

Mebuki wasn't happy.

She had spat those last two words out as if they were poison in her mouth, fuelled with horror and disbelief.

"Because, ever since your freaking father died, you've been nothing but a shadow, always quiet, like you were never there, and now that you're using your tongue again, it's to yell at me ?!"

"Don't talk about my father like that."

"WELL STOP MAKING ME THE VILLAIN THEN."

Never once had Sakura seen her mother cry. Not even at her grandpa's funeral. But now, tears were rapidly flowing down Mebuki's cheeks and endlessly pooling in her eyes, tears of rage, tears of agony.

Sakura almost felt pain seeing her mother so upset, until said mother savagely lashed out at her husband.

It started with a weak slap. But when Kizashi didn't reiterate and simply gazed at his wife as if she was a child he didn't want to scold, Mebuki completely lost it. She swung her fist at him and landed a terribly powerful blow on his ear, undoubtedly smashing his eardrum as blood slowly crumpled down his face.

Shock written all over his features, Kizashi brought trembling fingers up to his busted ear to check what it was soaked in. Upon noticing the blood covering his hands, his expression merged to utter outrage. He raised a blood-drenched fist himself, aiming for his wife's suddenly terrified pale face. Except he was twice as big as she was, and a much better shinobi than Mebuki. When the punch horribly hit its target with a sickening crack, Sakura whimpered and shut her eyes tight, the scene becoming a deep black while the petrifying sounds of struggling and thumping kept resonating louder and louder.

Without warning, Sakura reopened her eyes and barged in the kitchen, dashing in between her already beaten up parents and trying her best to stop them. Glancing at her mother, she felt overwhelmed by sadness at seeing how much more bruised she was compared to Kizashi. That was were her mistake laid. Mebuki visibly took that for pity and, in an act of complete madness, reached for the nearest thing she could grab and violently brought it down on her daughter.

Sakura's vision blurred as a frying pan opened her skull.

Shouts and screams sounded faint and far as hazy movements were blearing everywhere. Suddenly Sakura was outside, out of the battlefield, out of the kitchen, out of the house. She was half conscious, bleeding too much, her head throbbed masses, but at least she was safe.

Swaying and not thinking straight, Sakura somehow managed to end up on a nearby roof, away from prying eyes and crazy parents. She didn't allow herself a break before racking her brain for all the medical lessons she'd had so far. With the limited amount of knowledge she had gathered, she tried to close her wound the best she could, to no avail. Her head felt like it was going to explode any time soon, and the bleeding wouldn't stop. Sakura gave up on trying to heal herself in case she passed out, lying down instead and staring at the night sky. Pain filled her chest, numbing everything else from how sharp it was. Sitting up on her knees, she started crying and quivering until she decided to let it all out. So she screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

Her entire world was sorrow and misery.

Her voice broke, her knees gave up and she ran out of tears all at once. Falling down on the concrete in pure exhaustion, Sakura's lips contorted into a heartbreaking smile at the thought that she was going to die there.

It was then that a blond figure appeared, a plump lady rushing to her side. Sakura couldn't move nor speak, but her mind was awake enough that she could make out the woman's face and the worry in her tone.

The lady obviously thought Sakura had passed out, judging from the way she was carefully manipulating her body and murmuring to herself.

"… fracture… slight brain damage… she'll need at least four stitches if I don't treat her now…"

The pain in Sakura's chest doubled at hearing how bad of a job she had done at healing herself. Was she that pathetic ?

"… wow."

The woman's hands stopped moving, and Sakura finally noticed the strange warmth that had been comforting her and interrupting the hammering hurt she used to feel in her head until the lady interfered.

"Did she do this herself ?"

Her heart got pierced by millions of needles again. The scorching pain overtook every other sensation as disappointment burned through Sakura's frail body. She'd opened her cut deeper, hadn't she ? Maybe her parents had been right along. Maybe-

"This is- impressive !"

What ?

"Geez… not permanently, but still… she managed to close a few arteries enough to stop the internal bleeding… "

She ? Sakura did that ?

The needles disappeared as soon as the disappointment vanished, and the warm flow of the lady's chakra dominated Sakura's senses once again.

"Damn. That reckless kid reminds me of myself."

This got Sakura blushing before she drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber.

When Sakura woke up again, she was lying in a hospital bed, the three figures looming over her rustling around confusedly.

As she tried sitting up, a stinging throb on her forehead made her lose balance and fall down on the mattress, the noise interrupting her visitors' conversation. All three people turned towards the young girl, two of them leaning forward.

"How are you feeling ? Does your head hurt ?"

The blond woman was there. She must've had carried Sakura all the way to the hospital after treating her. Her face looked somewhat familiar, however the patient couldn't place who she was.

"I…" she was going to admit that her headache was killing her, until Sakura spotted her parents staring at her. "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt."

"Are you sure ? I treated you the best I could, but you were out there bleeding for quite a while before I found you."

The lady was so kind… But why were her parents silently observing her ? Why didn't they look more… worried ?

"Yes, thank you. And I'm… sorry for the trouble."

"Not at a-"

"You better be !!"

The room went terribly silent. Sakura then understood her parents' expressions. Mebuki wasn't worried, no. She was angry. Very angry.

"Are you insane ? Why would you run off like that, you stupid-"

"That's enough."

Mebuki was angry. However, the kind lady was fuming.

"You leave your child alone in a freezing night, bleeding to death and unable to find help, and you call her insane ?! Just what exactly were you doing that prevented you from looking for her ?"

The woman suddenly zeroed in on the blood covering the couple's knuckles. Her facial expression merged into sheer shock as she connected the dots. "Don't tell me… "

And she exploded. "You involved your daughter in your quarrel ?! YOU SIMPLY ARE MAD !!! SHE COULD HAVE DIED, DON'T YOU REALISE THIS ?"

The shouting went on for a little while until the scoffing lady departed in a hurry. The Harunos hadn't uttered a single word during their rebuking, only swearing they were 'terribly sorry' once the woman had almost left.

But as soon as the family was alone, Mebuki had slapped her daughter for bringing more trouble onto them and involving a stranger into their personal matters. Kizashi had come back to his submissive self, not interfering when his wife called their daughter a 'useless girl' and telling her she certainly wasn't going to go far in life if she went whining to the first stranger she encountered.

If there was one thing her parents were truly sorry about, it was to have made such an incompetent daughter.

A couple months later, Sakura's parents moved away from the village. The girl sought out to find the kind lady again, whose name she had difficultly remembered. It took her a while, but once Tsunade stepped up as Hokage, Sakura easily located her. She started training under this kind lady, but no matter how kindly Tsunade treated her, deep down underneath the thick layer of protection Sakura had built, her eyes were dead.

Five spirits were brutally propelled out of the medic's memory as each member of her rescue team reappeared back in their own body, still recovering from the life Sakura had meticulously hidden away from them.