"Heroes are made by the paths they chose, not the powers they are graced with."

10-year-old Haruno Sakura sat on the worn-out cushion in the corner of the Konoha library, surrounded by a small mountain of books. Most kids her age spent their free time training, playing outside, or dreaming about becoming great shinobi, but Sakura found solace in the quiet pages of books. There was something comforting in their structured world, in how the words fit together like puzzle pieces to form stories, knowledge, and secrets.

She flipped through the pages of the book on herbology, eyes dancing over the familiar descriptions of medicinal plants. It was nothing new — she had read it a dozen times — but she liked the way it felt like an old friend. Still, her mind wandered. There was something else pulling at her attention today.

Her gaze drifted to the far corner of the library, a section she had never noticed before. Hidden behind dusty shelves of untouched volumes was a narrow space barely illuminated by the dim light. She squinted, curiosity piqued. She knew she wasn't allowed near the restricted sections where the shinobi records and advanced techniques were stored, but this...this wasn't marked off. It felt like it had always been there, waiting for her.

Drawn by an inexplicable urge, Sakura quietly rose to her feet. Her heart pounded a little faster, a whisper of excitement in her chest. As she stepped closer, the air seemed to shift, growing heavier but not unpleasantly so. It was like the world itself held its breath.

And then she saw it.

On a low shelf, tucked between two thick tomes of forgotten history, was a black book. It was unremarkable at first glance — its cover worn, the edges frayed from time — but something about it seemed to call to her. It wasn't flashy like the other books that often caught her eye. There were no ornate designs, no title, not even a hint of what lay inside. But her instincts hummed, louder with each passing second.

She hesitated, glancing around the library. It was mostly empty at this hour, with only the librarian stationed far away, distracted by her own reading. No one would notice if she took a peek. Just one glance.

Sakura reached out slowly, her fingers brushing against the book's surface. The moment her hand touched it, a strange warmth spread through her palm, as though the book recognized her. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she thought she heard something — a whisper? — but it was too faint to be sure.

Her heart raced. Logic told her to leave it. She wasn't even a shinobi yet, just a civilian girl who hadn't even entered the academy. This book was likely above her rank, maybe even forbidden. But that whisper…She needed to know what was inside.

Before she could talk herself out of it, her fingers curled around the book, pulling it from the shelf. It felt heavier than it looked, almost as though it held more than mere pages within. She hugged it close to her chest, eyes flicking around the room again. The librarian hadn't noticed, still engrossed in her own work.

Without thinking, Sakura made her way towards the exit, the book concealed beneath her jacket. Her mind screamed that this was wrong, but her body moved on instinct. Every step toward the door felt surreal, as if she were walking in a dream.

As she slipped out into the evening air, Sakura exhaled, her pulse calming. She didn't know why she had taken it or what it meant, but she couldn't deny the pull it had on her.

The book had chosen her.

Sakura rushed home, the black book tucked safely under her jacket. Her heart thudded in her chest the entire way, the thrill of having taken something she wasn't supposed to burning in her veins. The weight of the book seemed to press against her more the closer she got to her house, as if it had a mind of its own. By the time she slipped through the front door, her hands trembled slightly, but it wasn't just from fear. It was something else. Something…unknown.

Once safely in her room, she locked the door and sat down on her bed, setting the book in front of her. The dull light from her desk lamp flickered, casting odd shadows on the dark cover. For a long moment, Sakura just stared at it, feeling that same strange pull she had felt in the library.

It was ridiculous, she thought. This was just a book — an old, forgotten one at that. And yet…

Her fingers itched to open it. Taking a steadying breath, Sakura slowly pried the cover open, the spine creaking slightly as if it hadn't been touched in years. The pages inside were surprisingly crisp, as if preserved from time itself. The first few pages were blank, but after flipping through, she found a single line of text written in bold:

"The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die."

Sakura blinked. What?

She frowned, flipping to the next page, where more rules were carefully outlined.

The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

Sakura's mind raced. She had read some strange things before, but this? This was absurd. It had to be a joke. Some kind of elaborate prank. And yet, as her eyes traced the elegant, eerie script, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling curling in her gut.

It felt…real.

She shook her head. No, this had to be some kind of genjutsu. There was no other explanation. A death notebook? That was the kind of thing you'd find in a story, not in real life. Right?

Still, something gnawed at her — a small voice in the back of her mind whispering that she couldn't just dismiss it. Something about the book felt different, dangerous. Her instincts, the ones that had told her to take the book in the first place, whispered for her to be careful.

Determined not to fall for any tricks, Sakura closed her eyes and focused her chakra. Her fingers moved into the familiar seal for dispelling genjutsu, her mind steady as she disrupted her chakra. She waited, half-expecting the book to shimmer and dissolve into some illusion, to disappear into smoke or reveal its true form.

But nothing happened.

Sakura opened her eyes. The book was still there, solid and real as ever. No illusions. No tricks.

Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, pushing the unease down. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. But why did she believe it?

She snapped the book shut, her breathing shallow. This wasn't something she could understand right now. It was beyond her. There was no way someone could just write a name and…kill them. That wasn't how the world worked. Shinobi techniques were one thing, but this?

No. She wouldn't entertain it.

Without thinking, Sakura grabbed the book and hurried to her closet. She shoved it deep into the back corner, hiding it under a stack of old clothes and shoes, her fingers trembling slightly as she pushed it out of sight.

But even as she stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief, she could feel it — the weight of the book lingering in the air, calling to her like a siren's song.

Her instincts told her that this wasn't over. That no matter how deeply she buried it, the book wouldn't stay hidden forever.

For months, the black book remained buried beneath a pile of old clothes in Sakura's closet, forgotten and untouched. Life continued as normal, with her training taking up most of her time. She spent her days at the academy, honing her skills, trying to keep up with the other students. Most of them had already come from shinobi families, while Sakura had to work twice as hard to make a name for herself. She was determined, though. She'd get there.

The strange encounter with the book had faded into the background, like a dream she half-remembered upon waking. The thought of actually using it seemed absurd now. Besides, even if she wanted to, who would she write? She didn't hate anyone — not really. No one she hated enough to condemn. No one who deserved that kind of fate. Sure, some of the kids in her class teased her, and there were plenty of people who looked down on her for being bookish, but none of that warranted…death. The idea felt grotesque and foreign.

It was laughable, really. Here she was, a ninja-in-training, someone destined to take lives in battle someday, and yet she couldn't even think of writing a single name in that book.

She had always imagined that being a shinobi meant fighting to protect others, but killing someone deliberately, coldly? That was something she wasn't ready for — something she didn't think she'd ever be ready for.

Still, she found herself thinking about it from time to time. She'd be reading at the library or walking through the village, and a stray thought would slip through her mind, quiet but persistent. What if? What if it wasn't a joke? What if she could control someone's fate with a single stroke of the pen?

But she would always push it away, telling herself it didn't matter. She wasn't that kind of person, anyway.

Weeks turned into months, and Sakura focused on her studies, on trying to master her chakra control and learn the basics of jutsu. She trained, studied, and laughed with her friends.

Life moved forward, and with it, so did she.

On the surface, everything seemed fine. But sometimes, in the dead of night, she'd feel it again — the faint hum of power lingering in the back of her mind, calling her to the closet.

She never answered.


Mizuki-sensei had always been kind to her, and when he started asking her to stay back after classes, Sakura took it as a sign that he saw potential in her. He'd compliment her chakra control, noting how much better she was than many of her classmates in that regard. He'd ask her to help clean up or practice extra kunai throwing techniques, offering pointers when her aim was off.

At first, she was proud and eager for the extra attention. Civilians like her didn't have the same advantages as the others. Unlike her rival, Ino, whose family was rooted in shinobi traditions, Sakura had to fight for every bit of recognition.

"I see real promise in you, Sakura," Mizuki would say, a kind smile on his face as they cleaned up the training grounds together. "You just need a little extra push, that's all."

Those words made her heart swell with pride. Promise. She clung to that word like it was the key to her future. Maybe, if she worked hard enough, she could prove she belonged. Maybe she could surpass people like Ino, who seemed to glide through training with confidence.

The extra kunai practice became a routine. Mizuki would watch her carefully, offering encouragement when she missed her target or correcting her stance with a gentle nudge. At first, Sakura didn't question it. She was happy to get the attention and improve her skills.

But as the weeks passed, something started to feel…off. Mizuki's compliments grew more personal, his words dripping with a strange sweetness that made her stomach twist, though she couldn't quite place why. He'd stand a little too close when adjusting her stance or pat her shoulder a bit too long after a successful throw. At times, he'd ask her odd questions — about her home life, whether her parents were strict, and how she spent her free time.

Sakura, at first, brushed it off. She was being silly, right? Mizuki was a respected sensei. He was just trying to help her. But then, why did she feel uneasy? Why did a cold shiver crawl up her spine when he leaned in too close, his voice soft and praising, but with an edge that made her want to run?

One evening, as she packed up her things after another round of kunai practice, Mizuki leaned casually against the wall, his eyes tracking her movements. "You're really improving, Sakura," he said, his voice smooth. "In fact, I think you might have a real shot at becoming something special...but you'll need a little more one-on-one training."

Sakura paused, her hand hovering over her bag. Something about the way he said it — one-on-one — made her skin prickle with discomfort. She smiled nervously, trying to keep her voice steady. "I-I think I'm doing okay with the regular training, Mizuki-sensei. Thank you for all the extra help, though."

Mizuki's smile didn't waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. "Oh, come on. You're a civilian. You need more help than the others. I'm just trying to make sure you succeed."

The words felt like a weight on her shoulders. Maybe he was right — she did need extra help. She wasn't born into a shinobi family. If she didn't take this opportunity, would she fall behind? Would she always be just a step behind Ino, Naruto, and the others?

But that unease, that creeping feeling in the back of her mind, wouldn't go away.

She forced another smile. "Thanks, Mizuki-sensei. I'll think about it."

As she walked home that evening, the usual sense of accomplishment she felt after training with Mizuki was gone, replaced by a quiet, gnawing discomfort. Her mind wandered back to the black notebook hidden deep in her closet. She hadn't thought about it in months, but now, for some reason, it hovered at the edges of her thoughts.

That night, she sat on her bed, staring at the closet door. Mizuki's words echoed in her mind, the strange tone in his voice, the way his hand lingered too long on her shoulder. Sakura shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. She was overthinking it. Mizuki was just being kind. He was trying to help.

But that cold, twisting feeling in her gut refused to leave.


As Sakura wiped down the chalkboard, she could hear Naruto's voice echoing behind her, loud and full of energy as usual. He had been roped into helping her clean as punishment for another one of his ridiculous pranks — something involving buckets of paint and the academy's training field. She didn't understand how someone could get into trouble so often and still have that boundless enthusiasm.

"Oi, Sakura-chan!" Naruto called from across the room, scrubbing a desk with far more intensity than necessary. "When I'm Hokage, I'll make sure no one has to clean chalkboards as punishment! It's totally lame, right?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. "Yeah, right, Naruto. Hokage who can't even stay out of trouble long enough to graduate from the academy."

Naruto laughed, his voice bright and unbothered by the jab. "Just you wait! I'm gonna be the best Hokage ever, and then I'll make everyone respect me!"

There was something about his determination that tugged at her, despite his obnoxiousness. Naruto was loud and annoying — everyone in the class thought so — but he was also left out, picked on, and treated like he didn't matter. She knew that feeling well. Sometimes, Sakura couldn't help but notice how similar they were, even though their personalities couldn't be more different.

She'd seen him get pushed around or laughed at behind his back, and while it was easy to join the crowd and dismiss him, deep down, she understood what it was like to feel like you didn't belong. To feel like no matter how hard you tried, you'd always be a step behind the others. It wasn't exactly the same — Naruto had it worse, much worse — but there was a strange kinship there, buried beneath the surface.

But then, every time Naruto asked her out — his wide grin plastered on his face like it was the best idea in the world — any thought of that kinship was quickly wiped away. She'd groan or yell at him, annoyed beyond belief that Naruto of all people would ask her on a date. It was ridiculous! It wasn't that she hated him...It was just, well, it was Naruto .

Still, today, as they cleaned the classroom together, she found herself more at ease than usual. Naruto, despite being clumsy and reckless, was genuine. He had a way of turning the most mundane tasks into something oddly fun.

"So, Sakura-chan, what do you think of my new jutsu idea?" he asked, bouncing over to her side as he waved a soapy rag in the air.

Sakura turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What jutsu idea?"

Naruto grinned widely, puffing his chest out. "I call it the 'Naruto Super Transformation Jutsu!' I'll transform into something really cool, like a tiger or a dragon, and then scare the bad guys away before they even know what hit 'em!"

She stared at him for a second, her lips twitching as she tried to hold back a laugh. " Naruto Super Transformation Jutsu ? That's the dumbest name I've ever heard."

Naruto pouted, crossing his arms. "What? It's an awesome name!"

Sakura shook her head, smiling despite herself. "You should probably work on learning the jutsu before coming up with ridiculous names."

"Hey, it's not ridiculous!" he protested, but there was no real bite in his words. Instead, he broke out into laughter, and after a moment, so did she.

As the two of them continued scrubbing the classroom, Sakura found herself enjoying Naruto's company more than she would have liked to admit. He wasn't like the other boys in class who teased her for being bookish or for being a civilian. Naruto was Naruto — loud, impulsive, but…genuine. He wasn't afraid to be himself, and there was something about that she couldn't help but admire, even if it made her want to knock some sense into him most days.

She didn't hate him. In fact, in moments like this, when it was just the two of them and the world felt a little quieter, she almost liked him.

Almost.

But then Naruto spun around, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, Sakura-chan, how about after we're done here, we go on a date?"

Sakura groaned, all that fleeting admiration flying out the window. " Naruto! "

As she did, her eyes drifted toward the door of the classroom. There, outside in the hallway, stood Mizuki, watching them through the narrow window. His expression was hard, lips curled into something between a sneer and a frown. He wasn't supposed to be here, not during punishment chores, but the contempt in his gaze was palpable.

For a brief second, Sakura froze, locking eyes with him. There was no mistaking the coldness in his look, the way his eyes flickered from her to Naruto and back again, disapproving and almost…calculating. It made her feel uneasy, like they were being judged for something far worse than a messy classroom.

Naruto's voice cut through the tension. "Come on, Sakura-chan! One date, just one !"

But Sakura barely registered it. Her grip tightened on the cloth in her hand as she continued to meet Mizuki's gaze, her mind racing. Why was he watching them? And why did it feel like there was more behind his stare than just disapproval?

Without a word, Mizuki turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving a strange weight in the air.

Sakura shook herself, turning her attention back to Naruto, who was still waiting eagerly for her response. "No, Naruto! Focus on cleaning, not dates!" she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual bite. Something about that look from Mizuki lingered in the back of her mind, and she couldn't quite shake it.

"Geez, you don't have to be so mean about it," Naruto muttered, scratching the back of his head before resuming his overly enthusiastic scrubbing.

Sakura cast another glance toward the door, now empty, and tried to push the encounter out of her mind. But the unease it left behind wouldn't fade so easily.

It didn't take long for Sakura to notice the shift in Mizuki's behavior. The day after she and Naruto had stayed back cleaning the classroom together, laughing and talking, something in Mizuki changed. He no longer asked her to stay after class for extra practice or help with cleaning, and when they trained, his once kind and encouraging words turned sharp, critical.

It was subtle at first — more barked corrections, more frowns when she didn't hit the target exactly right — but it didn't take long for it to escalate.

His once warm eyes now seemed cold, and he hardly acknowledged her unless it was to criticize her form, her speed, or her chakra control. The praise she had worked so hard for had vanished, replaced by harsh tones and pointed glares that made her feel small and inadequate.

It was worse when Naruto was around. Mizuki's gaze would harden whenever Naruto said something loud or cracked a joke near her, his lips curling into a subtle sneer. Sakura caught glimpses of that look — the one of distaste and thinly veiled disgust — and it made her skin crawl. What had she done wrong? Was it because she had laughed with Naruto?

Weeks passed like this, Mizuki growing more severe with her while continuing to act as though nothing had changed. Sakura, eager to please, did everything she could to get back in his good graces, but it was never enough. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't earn back the compliments, the extra training, or the attention she had once been proud of.

Finally, after yet another grueling training session in which Mizuki singled her out for every minor mistake, Sakura couldn't take it anymore. She lingered behind after class, watching as the other students filtered out of the academy. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached Mizuki, who stood at the front of the classroom, packing up his things.

"M-Mizuki-sensei?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended, but she pushed forward. "Did I...do something wrong?"

Mizuki glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. For a long, uncomfortable moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he set down the papers he had been gathering, his eyes cold and dispassionate.

"Something wrong?" he repeated, his voice flat. "Why would you think that, Sakura?"

She swallowed hard, her fingers twisting together nervously. "You've been...different. Harsher. And you don't ask me to stay after class anymore. I-I just...I want to know if I did something wrong."

Mizuki's lips thinned, and he stepped closer, just enough that Sakura had to resist the urge to step back. His presence felt suffocating, and the way he stared at her made her stomach churn.

"You've been distracted," Mizuki said, his voice low and icy. "Spending too much time with certain people instead of focusing on your training. It's disappointing."

Sakura blinked, her mind racing to keep up with his words. "D-distracted? I don't— "

Mizuki's eyes flickered with a flash of something dark, and his voice grew sharper. "You know who I'm talking about, Sakura. I've seen you with him — laughing, wasting time. Someone like you should know better than to associate with someone like Naruto."

Naruto?

The name hit her like a blow. Mizuki's disdain, the change in his behavior — it was because of Naruto?

"I — " Sakura stammered, at a loss for words. "But...Naruto's my classmate. He hasn't — "

Mizuki cut her off with a cold, humorless laugh. "Naruto's a nuisance. A troublemaker. Associating with him will only drag you down, Sakura. I thought you had more potential than that, but maybe I was wrong."

Her heart sank at his words, the sting of rejection biting deep. She wanted to protest, to tell him that Naruto wasn't all bad, that he was genuine and kind in his own way, but the words wouldn't come. All she could do was stand there, her hands trembling at her sides, as Mizuki's cold eyes bore into her.

"So," Mizuki continued, his tone condescending, "if you want my advice? Focus on your training. Leave distractions like Naruto behind, or you'll never be more than a second-rate ninja."

Sakura's throat tightened, her chest heavy with a mixture of confusion and hurt. She had worked so hard to gain Mizuki's approval, to prove herself as more than just a civilian-born student. But now, it felt like all of that had slipped away.

Mizuki had been so kind to her once, so supportive, and now...he barely tolerated her presence. All because she had laughed with Naruto.

The thought of it made her stomach twist, a sick feeling settling deep within her. How could something so small — so insignificant — cause such a change?

She nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I...I understand, Mizuki-sensei."

The air in the academy classroom felt colder than usual as Mizuki leaned in closer to Sakura, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive whisper. His tone had taken on a slimy edge, one that made her insides coil with dread, though she couldn't pinpoint why. She had asked him again, desperate for any sign of approval, any indication that she could redeem herself in his eyes. His response, however, was far from what she had expected.

"If you want to get back into my good graces, Sakura," Mizuki murmured, his smile almost predatory, "there are certain...things you can do."

Sakura's heart stuttered in her chest. Her palms began to sweat, her mind trying to process what he was saying, what he really meant. She knew something was wrong, that this wasn't the kind of training or mentorship she had been hoping for. But the way he spoke — the implication of his words — froze her to the spot.

"What...what kind of things?" she asked, her voice a tremble, unsure and terrified all at once.

Mizuki's eyes gleamed, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing just a little too tightly. "You'll figure it out," he said, his voice so smooth it made her skin crawl. "You're a smart girl."

That evening, Sakura stumbled home, her body aching from the "extra" training Mizuki had subjected her to — bruises blooming across her arms, her legs, and her sides. The harshness of his strikes was far beyond anything she had experienced before, and even though he'd masked it under the guise of teaching her "discipline," she knew it was something else.

He had said it was to toughen her up, that if she wanted to prove herself, she'd have to endure more than the others. That she was weak and civilian-born, and if she wanted to be strong, to be worthy of his attention again, this was how she would earn it. She had gritted her teeth through the pain, desperate to prove herself, desperate for some semblance of approval.

But when she looked at herself in the mirror that night, all she saw were the bruises he had left behind. Her reflection stared back at her, a face pale and drawn, eyes red from the tears she had tried so hard to hold in during the long walk home. The tears she could no longer hold back now.

She didn't want to cry. She wanted to be strong, to be the kunoichi she had always dreamed of becoming. But the weight of everything — the fear, the confusion, the shame — was too much. She collapsed onto her bed, her small body shaking as she sobbed into her pillow, the muffled sounds of her crying filling the quiet room.

Why had Mizuki done this? Why had he turned on her, treating her with such cruelty after showing her so much kindness before? And why, even now, did she still feel like it was her fault? Like she hadn't been good enough, and this was just what she deserved for failing to meet his expectations?

Sakura buried her face deeper into the pillow, the tears flowing freely now. Her body hurt all over, but it was the pain in her chest — the overwhelming sense of betrayal — that hurt the most.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the memory of the black book in her closet flickered. She hadn't thought about it in months, hadn't even remembered it was there. But now, as she lay there in the dark, tears soaking her pillow, something about it called out to her again.

But even as the thought of the book crossed her mind, she shoved it away. She couldn't...she wouldn't. She wasn't like that. She wasn't someone who could—

Her breath hitched as another sob tore through her, her bruised arms trembling as she hugged herself tight, as if she could somehow hold herself together.

She didn't know what to do.


From that day forward, Sakura did everything she could to avoid Mizuki. She kept her head down in class, no longer seeking his approval or attention. Every time his eyes lingered on her, she felt her stomach twist in knots, her heart racing with a familiar, suffocating dread. She made sure to never be alone with him, always finding an excuse to leave early or stick close to her classmates.

When Mizuki's gaze landed on her, she pretended not to notice. When he called on her in class, she answered quickly, keeping her voice steady despite the way her hands shook under the desk. The once ambitious girl, so eager to prove herself, had shrunk into someone else — someone who just wanted to survive the academy, to leave behind the nightmare that had been Mizuki's unwanted "attention."

But Sakura had learned to hide it well. She forced herself to smile around her friends, to act as if everything was fine. Ino still teased her, Naruto still annoyed her, and her life continued as it always had, as if nothing had changed. And on the surface, it hadn't.

But deep down, Sakura buried the memory of that day — the day Mizuki had stolen something from her, something that couldn't be returned. She locked it away in the darkest part of her mind, refusing to let herself dwell on it, refusing to acknowledge the pain and the shame that festered beneath her carefully crafted façade. If she didn't think about it, maybe it would disappear. Maybe it wouldn't matter anymore.

And so she threw herself into her studies, working harder than ever. She practiced kunai throwing, sparred with classmates, and memorized every jutsu she could get her hands on. The academy became her escape, a place where she could drown out the memories and focus on something — anything — other than Mizuki.

Before she knew it, time had passed, and graduation was just around the corner. The day she had dreamed of since she first set foot in the academy was finally here.

Sakura stood in front of the mirror that morning, adjusting her red ribbon with trembling hands. Her reflection stared back at her, older, stronger — but she still saw the bruised little girl behind those green eyes. The one who had stayed after class for extra help, who had laughed with Naruto, and who had trusted her sensei.

She swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away as quickly as they had come. It didn't matter now. Mizuki was in the past, and she was about to graduate. She was going to become a kunoichi, just like she had always wanted. This was her future, and she wouldn't let anything — anyone — take it from her.

The ceremony was a blur of excitement and nerves, with proud parents and excited students filling the academy's hall. Sakura accepted her forehead protector with a smile, the applause ringing in her ears, but all she could think about was moving forward, leaving behind everything that had happened within these walls.

She glanced over at Naruto, who beamed from ear to ear, his loud voice cutting through the crowd as he celebrated his own achievement. She had been bracing herself for disappointment, but there he was, smiling and brimming with the same determination she had seen in him since they were children. For a moment, Sakura felt that same kinship toward him, the one she'd felt all those months ago when they had cleaned the classroom together. Maybe they weren't so different after all — both of them had fought through the academy with something to prove, both of them had been overlooked, both of them had struggled in their own way.

But now, Sakura had secrets — dark, painful secrets — that she had buried so deep, she barely recognized them anymore.

As the academy faded behind her, Sakura took one last breath, her hand gripping her new headband. It was time to move forward. Time to leave behind Mizuki, the academy, and everything else that had happened.

For now, she could pretend. Pretend that she was just like everyone else, that she hadn't been broken in a way no one else could see.


The next morning, Sakura dragged herself out of bed, her thoughts preoccupied with the black book hidden away in her closet. It had occupied every corner of her mind since she had first discovered it, a constant, dark whisper that she couldn't quite shake, especially now, more than ever. Today was the day of the team announcements, and though she was anxious, her focus kept shifting back to the mysterious tome.

Sakura's heart skipped a beat when Iruka-sensei finally called out the teams. Her name, Naruto's, and Sasuke's were announced together, and she found herself both thrilled and apprehensive. She had always hoped to be on a team with Naruto, and Sasuke's inclusion was a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. But today, her mind was too preoccupied with other matters to fully process it.

When the announcement was over, Sakura approached Naruto. She had to know how he had passed the exam. "Naruto, how did you make it?" she asked, trying to mask her concern with a casual tone.

Naruto's face lit up with his usual grin. "Oh, I just did what I had to. Mizuki tried to trick me, but I figured out his plan and got help. It all worked out in the end."

The name "Mizuki" hit Sakura like a punch to the gut. Her hands clenched into fists as anger and revulsion boiled up inside her. Mizuki's name was like a stain on her memories, a reminder of the violation she had suffered. The thought that he had tried to sabotage Naruto too made her blood run cold. The fact that Mizuki was likely rotting away in the cells of T only slightly alleviated the rage she felt. The Sandaime was always oddly protective of Naruto, so she wasn't surprised. But who would be there to protect her?

The rest of the day felt like a blur. Team introductions came and went, and Sakura barely registered the details. She met their new sensei, Kakashi, a lackadaisical yet somehow reassuring figure, and tried to stay present during the introductions, but her mind was already miles away.

Back home, as the sun began to set, Sakura could hardly focus on anything other than the black book waiting for her. She had managed to push it out of her thoughts for most of the day, but now it loomed large in her mind.

She slipped into her room, closed the door behind her, and walked to her closet. The black book was still there, untouched. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for it, pulling it out from its hiding place.

Sakura stared at the book, its ominous presence somehow both terrifying and strangely comforting. She opened it, flipping through the rules she had read before, trying to make sense of it all. The absurdity of the rules seemed to mock her, yet she couldn't shake the sense that there was something real and important about this book.

In that quiet moment, with only the faint light of the setting sun spilling into her room, Sakura knew that the book had become a part of her life. And as she traced her fingers over its cover, she felt a sense of inevitability. Something was changing, and no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew she was bound to find out what it was.

Sakura sat on her bed, the black book open in her lap. Her eyes were locked on the page with the rules, her mind a whirlwind of anger and confusion. Mizuki's name echoed in her thoughts, a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on her and, by extension, on Naruto. The rage inside her was nearly overwhelming.

Her hand trembled as she picked up a pen. The words seemed to materialize on the page as if guided by her seething anger. She hesitated for a moment, her mind grappling with the reality of what she was about to do. But the thought of Mizuki's smirk, his deceitful gaze, hardened her resolve.

With a deep breath, Sakura wrote:

Mizuki

The pen moved deliberately, her hand steadying as she thought of the most fitting punishment for him. The rules had said that the cause of death had to be written with specific details. She clenched her jaw, trying to channel every ounce of her anger into the description.

She wrote:

Death by spontaneous combustion in a locked room, with no chance of escape or aid.

Her fingers hovered over the book for a moment longer, her heart racing. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to push away the fear and doubt. The words felt like a heavy weight, the gravity of her actions pressing down on her shoulders.

As she set the pen aside, she felt a cold shiver run through her. She placed the book back in its hiding spot, making sure it was carefully concealed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within her.

Her thoughts were a chaotic mess, but amidst the turmoil, one thing was clear: there was no turning back now. The book had taken on a dark significance, and she had stepped into a world she could scarcely comprehend.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, her mind fixated on the black book and the fate she had just sealed. All she could do was wait and see if the impossible would come to pass, if the book's bizarre rules held true.

As she lay in bed, trying to find some semblance of peace, the weight of her actions pressed heavily on her. The darkness of the book seemed to seep into her thoughts, leaving her with a sense of dread and anticipation.


The days following Sakura's use of the black book were a blur. The whirlwind of adjusting to her new team and the unremarkable D-ranked missions kept her mind occupied, but it also left her feeling detached. Kakashi-sensei's test had been a grueling trial, but she and her team had passed. Now, their days were filled with mundane tasks: cat rescues, fetching lost items, and delivering messages. It was nothing like the exciting missions she had imagined.

Yet, even with her attempts to focus on missions, the thought of Mizuki kept creeping into her mind. Days passed, and there was no mention of him in the village. No news. No updates. The death she had written for him had seemed so absurd — spontaneous combustion in a locked room. How could she have believed that a book could kill someone?

She laughed wryly to herself, shaking her head. I'm a joke, she thought. It was ridiculous to believe in such a thing. Surely, if something that bizarre had happened, it would've made the rounds through the village by now.

But something was off.

What troubled her more was the growing tension among the Chūnin and Jōnin. Conversations were hushed, and the sense of unease in the village was palpable. Even Kakashi-sensei, usually so laid-back, seemed preoccupied, his eyes scanning the horizon with an intensity that wasn't typical of him. It was as if something was brewing just out of sight, a storm waiting to break.

They must be expecting an attack or something, Sakura mused, but even that didn't explain why no one mentioned Mizuki. The pit in her stomach grew, gnawing at her with each passing day.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. After another long day of D-ranked missions, she begrudgingly approached Ino on her way home. Ino had been a friend from childhood, and though they had drifted apart somewhat, Sakura trusted her enough to ask about Mizuki. The blonde was with her usual crowd, gossiping loudly and teasing Sakura the moment she saw her.

"Hey, Forehead!" Ino called out, tossing her hair with a smirk. "Come to beg for fashion advice or something? You really need it."

Sakura rolled her eyes, feeling the familiar annoyance rise in her chest. "Ino-pig, shut up for once. I have a question."

That made Ino pause. Sakura's tone was different — serious. Ino raised an eyebrow but still smirked. "Oh? What is it, Forehead? Looking for pointers on how to impress Sasuke?"

Sakura stepped closer, lowering her voice as she shot a glare at Ino's friends, who were giggling nearby. "It's not about that. Do you know what happened to Mizuki-sensei?"

Ino blinked, her teasing demeanor faltering at the name. Her voice dropped, and she glanced around to make sure no one was listening too closely. "Why do you care? He's a traitor. He tried to steal from the village."

Sakura's eyes narrowed. "I know. But no one's talked about him. It's been days. I just want to know what happened."

Ino shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between making fun of Sakura and answering her. After a beat, her gaze softened. She leaned in and whispered, "I heard from my dad that Mizuki-sensei...exploded."

Sakura's heart skipped a beat. "Exploded?"

"Yeah," Ino whispered, her eyes wide as if it were a secret too dangerous to share. "Apparently, he was in a holding cell, and they found him...burnt up. Like he just—" she made an explosive motion with her hands, "—boom. My dad said it looked like someone snuck into the village and killed him. They're all freaked out about it because no one knows who or how."

Sakura's blood ran cold. Her mind raced, replaying what she had written in the book. Spontaneous combustion in a locked room. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't.

But Ino's next words sealed the growing dread in her chest. "They're worried there's been a breach in the village's security, but no one saw anything. It's like the killer was a ghost or something."

Sakura forced herself to nod, her face a mask of calm, though her heart pounded in her ears. "Thanks, Ino. I...I appreciate it."

"Whatever, Forehead," Ino replied with a smirk, though there was a hint of unease in her eyes. "You're acting weird, though. If you start blowing up too, I'll know who to blame."

Sakura gave a half-hearted laugh and turned to leave, her mind swirling with panic.

The book hadn't been a joke. It was real.

Mizuki was dead — exactly the way she had written it.

As she walked home, every step felt heavier, the weight of what she had done pressing down on her like a suffocating fog. She had killed him. The Death Note had killed him.

And now she had to live with that knowledge.


The next few weeks passed uneventfully, with Team Seven continuing their routine of D-ranked missions. Sakura fell into a comfortable rhythm — training with Sasuke, laughing at Naruto's antics, and growing more confident in her abilities. For the first time in a long while, she felt light. Free .

The weight of Mizuki's death had seemed unbearable at first, but now, as time stretched on and no one mentioned his name, the tension slowly dissolved. Sakura found herself waking up with a smile, her steps lighter than ever before. The darkness that had clung to her — her anger, her fear — had dissipated with his death. Mizuki was gone, and no one had connected it to her.

Even Naruto, who was usually oblivious to subtle changes in people's moods, had noticed. "Hey, Sakura-chan," he said one day after training, his blue eyes bright with curiosity, "you seem different lately. Like, I dunno...happier?"

Sakura froze for a second, startled that Naruto had picked up on her mood. She knew he was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for, but still, the realization that her happiness was noticeable made her heart race.

"Oh, really?" She quickly masked her surprise with a smile, shrugging casually. "I guess things have just been going well. Nothing to worry about."

Naruto's grin widened. "That's awesome! I'm glad. You deserve it, Sakura-chan."

Sasuke, who was sitting nearby and half-listening, made a noncommittal noise, but even he didn't seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

The team continued to eat together after missions, their bond slowly strengthening as they shared meals, jokes, and occasional jabs at one another. Sakura found herself laughing more than she had in years, especially when Naruto clumsily tried to flirt with her or when Kakashi-sensei gave them impossibly vague advice during training sessions.

Everything felt... perfect. Like she had stepped into a new version of her life where the shadows didn't loom so heavily over her. The black book was still tucked away in her closet, but she no longer thought of it every day. It had done what she needed it to do. Mizuki was gone, and with him, the fear and anger that had once gripped her heart.

As long as no one finds out... That thought always hovered in the back of her mind, a reminder that her perfect world was built on a fragile secret. But for now, no one suspected anything. No one had made any connection between Mizuki's bizarre death and her.

Sakura smiled at Naruto across the table as he loudly slurped his ramen, her chest warm with a strange contentment. It felt like the weight of the world had finally lifted, and for once, she could breathe freely.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Just as long as no one ever finds out.


The mission to the Land of Waves had spiraled out of control faster than Sakura could've ever imagined. One moment, they were supposed to be protecting a simple bridge builder, and the next, they were fighting off hired assassins. Now, with Kakashi-sensei unconscious and recovering from overusing his Sharingan, Sakura was left alone to keep her team together.

Naruto and Sasuke, of course, were no help at all.

"Idiot! I told you to wait for my signal!" Sasuke hissed, glaring at Naruto as the two stood by Kakashi's prone form.

"Well, maybe if you didn't take forever, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Naruto shot back, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to suppress the headache threatening to overwhelm her. She stood a little apart from the boys, eyes flicking between their heated argument and Kakashi's limp body. It felt like the weight of the world had been dropped onto her shoulders, and she was the only one holding everything together.

They were outmatched, and Sakura knew it. Momochi Zabuza, the Demon of the Mist, was an A-rank missing-nin. The first clash had nearly cost them their lives, and now Kakashi was out of commission. There's no way we can take him on again like this.

As Naruto and Sasuke's bickering grew louder, Sakura turned her attention to her bingo book. She had bought it long ago, back when she first started learning about the dangers shinobi could face. She flipped through the pages, her fingers trembling as she searched for the entry she needed. It didn't take long to find him.

Momochi Zabuza. A-rank missing-nin. Former member of the Kirigakure Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist. Dangerous, highly skilled in assassination and silent killing techniques.

Her breath hitched as she read over the details. Zabuza was a monster, and they had barely survived the first encounter. She bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. How are we supposed to stop him?

A soft hum vibrated through her pouch, sending a chill down her spine. The Death Note.

The book had been quiet for weeks, hidden away, almost forgotten. But now, in the midst of danger, it called out to her again. Its presence felt heavier, more insistent, like it could sense her desperation. She could feel it begging to be used, whispering in the back of her mind. Write his name. End this before it's too late.

Her hand hovered over her pouch, fingers brushing against the familiar cover of the book. It would be so easy. Just like with Mizuki. She could write Zabuza's name, describe a death that no one could trace back to her, and the mission would be over. No more danger. No more fear. Naruto and Sasuke would be safe. Kakashi-sensei would recover without the looming threat of Zabuza hanging over them.

But as she felt the weight of the book in her hand, something stopped her.

Zabuza was an enemy, yes — but he wasn't the same as Mizuki. Mizuki had been personal, and his death had felt justified. But Zabuza? He was just another shinobi doing his job. And as terrifying as he was, something about killing him like this — without facing him, without even trying to fight — felt wrong.

Sakura swallowed hard, her mind a mess of conflicting emotions. She could save them all right now. All it would take was a name. But if she did...what would that make her? Would she be any different from Zabuza, using an unfair advantage to kill without honor?

Her hand clenched around the book, but she couldn't bring herself to open it.

Not yet.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she tucked the book back into her pouch, out of sight but not forgotten. "You two," she snapped, stepping between Naruto and Sasuke, her voice sharp and commanding. "Stop arguing. We need to figure out what to do, not waste time blaming each other."

Naruto and Sasuke both turned to look at her, momentarily stunned into silence. They weren't used to Sakura taking charge, but the urgency in her voice seemed to cut through their argument.

"Kakashi-sensei is out of commission," she continued, her tone firm, "which means we have to rely on each other. We need a plan for if Zabuza comes back. If we don't work together, we're not going to make it through this."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes but nodded begrudgingly, clearly understanding the gravity of the situation. Naruto, for once, stayed quiet, glancing at Kakashi's unconscious form before nodding as well.

Sakura exhaled slowly, relief washing over her. For now, she had pushed the temptation of the Death Note aside. But the hum of its power still lingered, a constant reminder of the darkness within her reach.

As long as she could keep her team safe without it, she would resist. But part of her couldn't help but wonder — how long would it be before the temptation became too strong to ignore?


Sakura walked through the village streets, her eyes scanning the dilapidated buildings and the thin, weary faces of the people. Every step brought her deeper into the heart of the suffering that plagued this place. The once lively town now looked as if life had been drained out of it. Children, far too skinny for their age, clung to their mothers as they begged for food. Men sat listlessly by the roadside, their hollow eyes staring blankly into nothing. It was a place weighed down by hunger, poverty, and death.

Sakura had thought their mission was about stopping Zabuza. But walking through this village, she realized he wasn't the root of the problem. Zabuza was just a hired blade. A weapon.

The real evil was Gato.

The man behind it all. The tyrant who had bled this village dry, who crushed the people under his boot while amassing wealth. The very thought of him made Sakura's stomach turn. She could picture him now, sitting in some opulent mansion far away, untouched by the misery he created.

As she passed a vendor selling ragged newspapers, her gaze caught a headline. There it was: Gato's face plastered across the front page, the smug, self-satisfied grin of a man who believed he was untouchable. Her breath hitched. Untouchable. The word lingered in her mind, but her hand moved before she could second-guess herself. She handed over a few coins and bought the newspaper, folding it carefully as she tucked it into her pouch.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Team Seven regrouped, and they returned to Tazuna's house as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Kakashi-sensei was still recovering, and Naruto and Sasuke were tense after another day of preparation. But Sakura...her mind was elsewhere.

Late that night, when everyone was asleep, she pulled the newspaper from her pouch and smoothed it over the small desk in the room she shared with Naruto. Her fingers hovered over Gato's face, the black ink smudging slightly under her touch. He looked so normal, so ordinary. But she knew better. Beneath that grin was a monster.

Her heart raced as she retrieved the black book from her bag, the Death Note that had already claimed one life. But this time, she wasn't going to make the same mistake. Mizuki's death had been dramatic, chaotic, and it had raised suspicion. She couldn't afford that again.

She opened the book, flipping to a fresh page, and carefully cut out the newspaper clipping of Gato's face, pasting it beside her entry. Her pen hovered over the empty lines, and she took a deep breath. This time, she would do it smartly.

Gato.

She wrote his name in neat, careful strokes, her hand steady as she crafted the next words. A natural death. Nothing suspicious. Something that could be explained away.

Heart failure, after a sudden illness.

Sakura leaned back, staring at the words. It was simple, clean. Something that would go unnoticed in a village where life was already fragile and death was all too common.

For a moment, doubt crept in. Was this the right thing to do? Could she live with herself, knowing that she had taken another life? But then she thought of the villagers — their empty eyes, the way they clutched their children close, starving and desperate. She thought of the bridge builder, Tazuna, and his fight for freedom against an enemy too powerful for any one man to face alone.

Gato didn't deserve mercy. Not like those people. Not like Naruto or Sasuke. This wasn't about her anger or vengeance; it was about justice. True justice.

With a sharp breath, Sakura closed the book and tucked it back into her pouch, feeling a strange calm settle over her. It was done. Gato's fate was sealed.

She climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Outside, the wind rustled the trees, and the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the distant shore echoed through the quiet night.

For the first time, the hum of the Death Note didn't feel ominous. It felt like power.

Sakura stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying the faces of the villagers she had seen that day. Tomorrow will be different, she thought, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. Tomorrow, things will change.


Gato's death hit the headlines a few days after Team Seven returned to Konoha.

The Land of Waves had already been abuzz with the news when they left. First, the whispers — how the man who had terrorized the village for so long suddenly collapsed during a business meeting, clutching his chest. Then came the official reports. Heart failure. The tyrant had died naturally, the village elders said, after a brief and unexplained illness. There was no investigation. No suspicion. Just relief.

Sakura had said nothing.

She had watched in silence as Naruto and Sasuke celebrated the success of their mission, oblivious to the deeper truth. Kakashi-sensei had given them a rare smile of approval before they set off back to Konoha, the weight of their mission finally behind them. But for Sakura, it wasn't over. Not really.

They had won. Zabuza had vanished, Gato was dead, and the village of the Land of Waves was finally free. But what haunted her wasn't the outcome — it was how easily it had happened. How simple it was for her to hold life and death in the palm of her hand.

Back in the familiar streets of Konoha, Sakura walked alongside her team, her thoughts distant. The village was lively, bustling with people going about their daily lives. It was a stark contrast to the poverty and suffering she had witnessed in Wave. But all she could think about was the black book in her pouch.

The Death Note.

She had wielded it twice now — once in anger, and once with cold calculation. And both times, it had worked flawlessly. The power she held in that small, unassuming book was unimaginable. With just a few strokes of her pen, she could control the fate of anyone. People like Mizuki, who had harmed her. People like Gato, who had brought ruin to so many. It was terrifying, yes, but also exhilarating.

Sakura glanced at Naruto, who was grinning and chattering on about ramen, and then at Sasuke, who was quietly walking ahead, lost in his own thoughts. They had no idea what she had done. No idea of the power she now wielded. And that thought — the secrecy, the solitude of it — made her feel both powerful and isolated all at once.

What if they knew? she wondered, a flicker of doubt passing through her mind. Would they be horrified? Would they see her as a monster? Or would they understand, like she had come to, that sometimes you had to take control to make things right?

She shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. They didn't need to know. No one did. As long as she used the Death Note wisely, as long as she stayed smart, she could continue to protect the people around her — her team, her village — without anyone being the wiser.

And yet...the thought of the power she held, the ability to decide life and death with such ease, gnawed at her. She wasn't the same girl who had walked into that library weeks ago. She had changed. The Death Note had changed her.

That night, back in her room, Sakura sat on her bed, staring at the floorboard where the book was hidden. She thought about Gato, lying dead in the Land of Waves, and how no one had even questioned his death. She'd done that. She had shaped the course of events with a few simple words, changed countless lives.

Her hand hovered over the floor, but she didn't move to retrieve the book. Instead, she sat in silence, her mind racing with possibilities. Who else deserves this fate? she wondered. There were others like Gato. Others who caused suffering, who hurt people, who stood in the way of peace. She had the power to stop them. To change the world, one name at a time.

But with that power came a question — where did she draw the line? When would it be too much? Could she trust herself to know when to stop?

Sakura's heart raced as she wrestled with the weight of her own thoughts. The Death Note had given her something she had never dreamed of — control. For so long, she had felt helpless, a girl lost in the shadow of others. But now, with this power, she wasn't helpless anymore. She could shape the world, bend it to her will. She could protect the people she cared about, fix the injustices she saw.

But the line between protector and executioner was thin.

I'll be careful, she promised herself, her eyes narrowing. I'll only use it when it's necessary. When there's no other way.

But even as she thought those words, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered doubts. How long before that line blurs?

Sakura closed her eyes, trying to push the thought away. For now, the book would stay hidden. But deep down, she knew it wouldn't stay there forever.


The forest was suffocating, shadows twisting around her like a living entity. The oppressive silence was only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird, but Sakura barely registered it. Her mind was consumed with the events that had just unfolded.

Naruto lay unconscious, blood staining the grass beneath him, while Sasuke — always so strong, so composed — was on the ground next to him, his face contorted in pain. They had been attacked, both of them, by someone...or something.

Sakura's hands trembled as she knelt beside them, her pulse racing. The figure that had appeared out of nowhere, the one who'd summoned the giant snake...That face, the pale skin that peeled off like a discarded mask, revealing a sinister grin beneath. And the eyes — those terrible, predatory eyes.

Orochimaru.

She wasn't certain, but something deep inside told her she was right. Orochimaru, the legendary Sannin, the traitor who had abandoned Konoha, the monster who sought power at any cost. What was he doing here? Why target them ?

The hum of the Death Note in her pouch became louder, vibrating against her side like a heartbeat in tune with her rising panic. The book wanted her to act. She could feel its dark power, its lure to end this threat once and for all.

But she hesitated.

How could she be sure? If she wrote the wrong name, if this wasn't truly Orochimaru…

Sakura gritted her teeth, looking down at Naruto and Sasuke. Her boys. Her teammates. They were so helpless right now, so vulnerable, and for once, it was her turn to protect them. She wanted to reach into her pouch and pull out the book, to end this terror in one swift stroke. But instinct told her to wait. She couldn't act blindly.

Even as the thought of Orochimaru's death was tempting, she had no proof. What if she was wrong? What if this was some other enemy, some imposter? She needed to be sure, needed to know beyond doubt who they were up against.

But there was no time to reflect. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and the sharp crack of branches nearby told her they weren't alone. The Oto nins who had been chasing her earlier had returned. Sakura's heart lurched, adrenaline surging through her veins.

She rose to her feet, her gaze hardening. They weren't going to take Naruto and Sasuke. Not while she was still breathing.

The Oto nins circled her like vultures, their eyes gleaming with malevolence. Sakura stood her ground, fists clenched, her mind racing. She had to protect her teammates, had to keep them safe until help arrived — if it ever did.

One of the enemies lunged, kunai gleaming in the faint light filtering through the trees. Sakura reacted on instinct, parrying the blow with a kunai of her own. Her muscles burned with exhaustion, but she refused to back down. She dodged, ducked, blocked — anything to keep them away from Naruto and Sasuke.

But they kept coming, relentless in their attacks. Sakura's breathing grew ragged, her body screaming in protest. She knew she couldn't keep this up much longer.

One of them smirked as they knocked her kunai from her hand, sending it skittering across the ground. Sakura stumbled, her hair falling into her face. She could hear their mocking laughter, feel their eyes on her like predators toying with their prey.

In that moment, Sakura made a decision.

She grabbed a kunai from her pouch, her fingers grazing the Death Note for the briefest moment, but she didn't pull it out. Not yet. Instead, she grabbed her own hair, and with a swift, decisive motion, she cut it off, the strands falling to the forest floor in a cascade of pink.

The Oto ninja's laughter died in her throat.

Sakura straightened, her short hair framing her face, her eyes blazing with determination. She was done hesitating. She wasn't the same girl who had stood on the sidelines, watching others fight. She was going to protect her team, no matter the cost.

With newfound resolve, Sakura surged forward, attacking the three enemies with everything she had. Her movements were sharp, precise — no longer the frantic dodging of before. She didn't need the Death Note right now. Not for these enemies. This was a fight she could win on her own.

She parried another strike, then countered with a blow to the ribs, knocking one of them back. Another came at her from behind, but she twisted, her kunai slashing through the air, catching them off guard. Blood splattered across the ground as her blade met its mark.

But even as she fought, her mind couldn't help but wander back to Orochimaru — the man, the monster, whatever he was. The Death Note still called to her, whispering promises of victory, of safety. It would be so easy to write his name and end it all. But she needed to know for sure. She needed confirmation.

For now, she would survive this fight. She would protect Naruto and Sasuke with her own strength.

But when she knew for certain who her true enemy was, when she had Orochimaru's name and face clearly in her mind...she would make sure he never threatened them again.


Sakura sat slumped against the wall of the makeshift clinic, her body still aching from the sheer effort it took to get her team to the tower. Her muscles screamed in protest with every movement, and her chakra reserves were dangerously low. She couldn't even muster the strength to sit up straight, and her pathetic fight against Ino left her with next to nothing. The weight of failure hung over her like a suffocating fog, but it wasn't her lost fight or the fact that she'd collapsed from exhaustion after dragging Naruto and Sasuke to safety that bothered her the most.

It was the seal.

Her eyes darted to Sasuke, who was resting a few feet away after his fight. His head was tilted back against the wall, his breathing steady for now, but that cursed mark on his neck — it was still there, pulsing ominously with dark energy. She'd seen it when Orochimaru bit him, the sick grin on that man's face as he cursed Sasuke with his power. Sakura could feel it even now, a lingering presence that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness, as if it were a living thing, writhing and waiting to strike.

And then there was the book. The black, cursed book that hummed in her pouch. It called to her, a dark promise she could barely resist. She wanted to write Orochimaru's name in it, to end him before he could do any more harm. But she hadn't.

She had failed Sasuke. She had failed herself.

Sakura's fingers twitched toward her pouch, feeling the familiar weight of the Death Note resting inside. She'd been so close to using it in the forest. So close. But she couldn't. Not without being absolutely sure. Orochimaru was a shadow in her mind, a nightmare that had stepped into reality, and now Sasuke was carrying that darkness within him.

The door creaked open, and she didn't need to look to know who it was. Ino walked in, her confident steps echoing in the quiet room. Sakura felt the familiar pang of inadequacy she always felt around Ino. Even though they had fought to a draw in the preliminary stage, she couldn't shake the feeling of failure. The fight had been pathetic, both of them too exhausted and weakened from the trials of the Forest of Death to put on a real display of skill.

Ino shot her a glance, then walked over to lean against the wall beside her. "Hey, Forehead."

Sakura gave a half-hearted grunt in response. She didn't have the energy for banter.

Ino sighed, sliding down the wall to sit next to her. "You did good, you know. Getting those idiots to the tower by yourself."

Sakura swallowed, her throat dry. "Not good enough. We barely made it. And that fight…" She trailed off, staring down at her hands, the same hands that had almost opened the Death Note in desperation.

Ino tilted her head, looking at her closely. "You're too hard on yourself. We both know that fight could've gone either way."

Sakura didn't respond. She appreciated Ino's attempt at reassurance, but it wasn't enough to quiet the storm in her mind. It wasn't the fight with Ino that haunted her — it was the bigger threat looming over them all.

"Orochimaru," she whispered, the name tasting bitter on her tongue.

Ino stiffened, her carefree expression faltering. "You think he's still out there?"

Sakura nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to Sasuke again. "He put some kind of curse on Sasuke. I...I don't know what it is, but it's bad, Ino. Really bad."

Ino followed her gaze, her eyes narrowing. "A curse? Like a genjutsu?"

"No. It's something else. Something darker. I don't even know how to begin to help him. And...if Orochimaru is after Sasuke, then he's not going to stop." Sakura's voice was barely a whisper, her fear finally breaking through the wall she'd built around herself.

Ino stayed silent for a long moment before speaking again. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Sakura's hand drifted toward her pouch, brushing against the Death Note. She hesitated, feeling its pull, but she couldn't bring herself to take it out. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice heavy with doubt.

What could she do? Orochimaru was too powerful. She wasn't sure if it could stop someone like him. She had seen his strength, felt the sheer terror he invoked, and the seal he had placed on Sasuke wasn't something she could undo on her own. She wasn't strong enough.

But the book was.


The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale light over Konoha. Inside her small, dimly lit room, Sakura sat cross-legged on her bed, the Death Note resting on her lap. The book's cover seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if aware of the gravity of what was about to happen.

Kakashi had been concerned after hearing about the events in the Forest of Death. He had listened intently as Sakura recounted the ordeal, his gaze unflinching as she described the terrifying figure that had attacked her team. The name Orochimaru was spoken with a mix of fear and determination, and Kakashi had confirmed her suspicion with a grim nod.

"Yes," he had said, his voice steady but laden with an unspoken weight. "It's Orochimaru. We've been trying to track him for some time, but it seems he's managed to evade us so far. He's dangerous, Sakura. You need to be careful."

That night, Sakura couldn't shake the image of Orochimaru's twisted grin from her mind. The seal on Sasuke's neck, the feeling of impending doom — it all converged into a single, unrelenting focus. She had the power to do something about it now. The Death Note had proven itself, and now, with Orochimaru's name known, it was time to act.

She took a deep breath and carefully opened the book. Other than Mizuki's and Gato's names, the pages were blank, save for the rules written in a scrawled, otherworldly script. She had memorized them by now, but reading them one more time steadied her nerves.

She hesitated only for a moment, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. Then, with a resolve that came from desperation and the need to protect her friends, she wrote:

Orochimaru

The book felt warm against her hands, a stark contrast to the cold dread she felt in her chest. She carefully penned the name, her handwriting neat and deliberate.

As she finished, she closed the book and placed it in her pouch, the familiar hum of its power resonating softly. The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease, a small, almost imperceptible sense of relief washing over her.

Sakura lay down in her bed, the exhaustion from the day's events catching up with her. Her thoughts drifted to Naruto and Sasuke, to the burden she carried for them. For once, the constant hum of the Death Note was a comforting presence, a promise that she had taken a step toward making things right.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and for the first time in days, sleep came easily. The nightmares that had plagued her seemed to recede, replaced by a serene calm. Sakura slept soundly, her breathing even and relaxed, the Death Note's dark promise lingering softly in the back of her mind.


The following morning, Sakura awoke feeling oddly refreshed. The world seemed brighter, the weight of uncertainty lifted, if only a little. She went through her morning routine with a sense of quiet satisfaction, knowing she had taken a decisive step to protect her friends and her village.

The announcement hit Konoha like a tidal wave. The Kazekage, one of the most powerful figures in the shinobi world, had been revealed to have been dead for some time — killed and impersonated by none other than Orochimaru. The Chūnin Exams were abruptly canceled as the political ramifications of the deception rippled through the village, sparking unrest and tension among the nations.

Naruto was the first to react when they were informed. "What?! We were so close! How could they cancel the Chūnin Exams now?!" His voice rang out in disbelief, his frustration evident. Sasuke, still recovering from his injuries, clenched his fists but remained silent, his dark eyes simmering with a quiet fury. The frustration of the unknown weighed heavily on him, and it was clear the abrupt end of the Exams was just another reminder of how out of control he felt.

The entire team had fought hard to get this far, each of them giving their all, only for the conclusion to be snatched away in a sudden twist of fate. Naruto and Sasuke both simmered with anger, their ambitions for the promotion lost amidst the chaos.

But Sakura...she didn't care.

She stood a little apart from her teammates, arms crossed, watching them vent their frustrations. Her expression was calm — perhaps too calm. While they fumed about the canceled Exams, Sakura's mind was elsewhere. She wasn't upset. She wasn't angry. If anything, she felt relief. Relief that, for now, the danger had passed. Sasuke and Naruto were safe. Orochimaru was dead.

The Chūnin Exams were nothing compared to that.

Her fingers brushed the pouch where the Death Note was hidden, feeling its cool leather against her fingertips. She hadn't told anyone about what she had done. They wouldn't understand — they couldn't. But she knew, deep down, that she had made the right choice. Orochimaru's death had caused the Exams to collapse, but it had also averted a disaster.

She had no regrets.

Kakashi-sensei arrived shortly after, his usual mask of calm in place, though his visible eye betrayed his concern. "The situation is more complicated than it appears," he said, addressing his team. "The Suna and Konoha alliance is in a fragile state right now. The Council has called for a meeting, but things will be unstable for a while."

Naruto frowned deeply, crossing his arms over his chest. "But what about the Exams? Does that mean we're not gonna become Chūnin?"

Kakashi sighed. "For now, the Exams are the least of our concerns. Focus on your training. We'll need to be prepared for anything."

Sasuke scoffed but said nothing. Sakura noticed the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists. She could only imagine what was going through his mind — how his ambitions were being stifled, how the seal on his neck weighed him down like a curse.

But Sakura remained detached. Even with the uncertainty looming over Konoha, a small part of her was at peace. Her teammates were safe. The village was safe — for now. She had the Death Note, and that meant she had the power to protect them, no matter what.

The weight of her actions, the morality of it all — it didn't matter. Not right now. What mattered was that she could control the threats that came their way.

As they all left the meeting room, Naruto grumbled, Sasuke brooded, and Kakashi lingered in his usual, distant manner. Sakura followed, the cool presence of the Death Note comforting her as she smiled softly to herself. The power she held was her secret, her weapon.

And she would use it again if necessary.


The journey to find Tsunade was supposed to be straightforward — another mission that would solidify Team Seven's growth. After the chaos of the Chūnin Exams, the war that almost was, and the fallout from Orochimaru's schemes, the Sandaime had decided to retire. He was old, and Konoha needed fresh leadership. Tsunade, the legendary Sannin, was the perfect candidate to lead the village through the turbulence ahead.

But now, as they made their way through a dense forest on the outskirts of a small town, the atmosphere shifted. Sakura felt it before she saw them — a strange pressure, heavy and ominous, that made her skin crawl. Her senses were sharper now, her instincts honed from everything they had been through. She stopped in her tracks, scanning the area, her hand unconsciously moving toward the pouch where the book was hidden.

"Sakura, what's wrong?" Naruto asked, looking confused.

Before she could answer, two figures emerged from the shadows. They wore identical black cloaks adorned with red clouds, their faces mostly obscured by straw hats. But the one on the left — he stepped forward, his movement elegant and almost too graceful for a shinobi. His face was pale and striking, framed by long, raven-black hair, and his eyes, Sharingan spinning lazily, locked onto Sasuke.

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. The resemblance was undeniable. This man — whoever he was — looked like a more refined, older version of Sasuke. He was elegant, yes, but also cold. Detached. A far cry from the burning intensity she had come to associate with her teammate.

Sasuke, on the other hand, was anything but detached. His body stiffened, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. The air around him crackled with barely contained rage, his Sharingan flaring to life.

"Itachi!" Sasuke's voice was a low growl, full of hatred and pain. "You...bastard!"

Sakura froze. Itachi. The name alone sent a chill down her spine. She had heard of him before — how could she not? He was the infamous prodigy who had slaughtered the Uchiha clan. Sasuke's brother, the one he had sworn to kill. The man responsible for everything that had driven Sasuke to seek revenge.

The other man beside Itachi, larger and more intimidating with blue skin and a shark-like grin, chuckled. "Heh, looks like the kid remembers you, Itachi."

But Itachi's gaze never left Sasuke. His expression was unreadable, cold and distant. There was no warmth, no recognition of brotherhood — only an eerie calmness that made Sakura's skin crawl even more.

"You're still weak, Sasuke," Itachi said quietly, his voice as smooth as silk. "Do you really think you can kill me with such pitiful strength?"

Sasuke let out an angry snarl, his body tensing, ready to attack. "I've waited for this day, Itachi. I don't care what it takes — I'll make you pay!"

Naruto stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Sasuke, wait! We can't just rush in— "

But Sasuke wasn't listening. His fury boiled over, and without warning, he charged at Itachi, his Chidori already crackling in his hand.

Sakura's mind raced. She knew Sasuke was strong, but this was different. This was personal. And Itachi — he was on a whole other level. She felt the Death Note hum inside her pouch again, as if it could sense the danger, urging her to use it.

Her hand hovered over the pouch, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to help, but not like this. Not unless she had no other choice. Sasuke would hate her if she took away what was his.

Itachi, with effortless grace, sidestepped Sasuke's attack. Sasuke's Chidori struck the ground, sending sparks flying, but Itachi didn't even flinch. He barely seemed interested in his brother's rage.

"You're still so far behind," Itachi said, almost bored. "Go home, Sasuke. You're not ready to face me."

Sasuke's frustration only grew, and he lunged again, but Itachi easily parried each of his strikes, moving as if Sasuke were nothing more than an inconvenience.

Sakura felt a pit growing in her stomach. This wasn't a fight Sasuke could win, not now. She glanced at Naruto, whose hands were twitching as if he was ready to jump in. Even Kakashi-sensei had warned them about people like Itachi — the Akatsuki, he had called them. Dangerous criminals.

But right now, all Sakura could think about was how to get them out of this alive.

The shark-like man — Kisame, she recalled — grinned at her. "You look nervous, kunoichi. Think you can protect your precious team?"

Sakura's jaw tightened. Her hands trembled slightly, but she refused to back down. "We won't let you hurt Sasuke," she said, her voice firm, even if her heart was pounding in her chest.

Kisame laughed. "That's cute."

But before anything else could happen, Itachi raised a hand. "Enough, Kisame. We don't need to waste time here."

Itachi's Sharingan met Sakura's for the briefest moment, and in that instant, she felt an overwhelming force crash into her mind — a wave of fear, confusion, and something else, something dark that she couldn't quite name. It was as if he could see through her, see everything she was hiding, including the secret she carried in her pouch.

He turned away without a word, his cold gaze settling back on Sasuke. "Grow stronger, little brother. Then maybe you'll be worth my time."

And with that, Itachi and Kisame vanished into the shadows, leaving Sasuke seething with rage and Naruto looking confused.

Sakura's knees buckled slightly, but she caught herself, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the Death Note in her pouch. She had been ready to use it — to kill Itachi on the spot — but she hadn't. And now she wondered if she had made the right choice.


Sakura stood in the bustling streets of Konoha, her eyes trained on the newly appointed Godaime Hokage, Tsunade, as she made her way toward the Hokage tower. The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm rays over the village, but Sakura felt cold. Distant.

She should have been thrilled. This was Tsunade — one of the Sannin, a kunoichi of legendary strength and healing abilities. The woman she had idolized from the pages of history books. Yet, all Sakura could think about was Sasuke and the decision she had made back in that forest.

The Death Note hummed softly in her pouch, as if mocking her hesitation. She had chosen not to write Itachi's name, and now, every time she saw the hollow look in Sasuke's eyes, she questioned if she had made the right choice. He was consumed by his hatred — so much so that he barely even acknowledged her or Naruto. His eyes were always forward, locked on the vision of Itachi, burning with revenge. Nothing else mattered to him. Not his team, not the village, not even himself.

Sakura sighed, her hands trembling slightly as she shoved them into her pockets. She hadn't even fawned over Tsunade like she thought she would. Everything felt...hollow. Tsunade had agreed to come back, of course, but it was Naruto's relentless optimism and heartfelt speeches that had convinced her. Sakura had simply gone through the motions, a silent spectator to the events unfolding around her.

"You alright, Sakura-chan?" Naruto's voice broke through her thoughts, his face scrunched with worry. "You've been really quiet since we got back."

She forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "Yeah, I'm fine, Naruto. Just tired."

Naruto didn't look convinced, but before he could press further, Sasuke appeared out of nowhere, walking past them with barely a glance. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his mind clearly elsewhere — no doubt still on Itachi. He didn't even seem to notice them.

Sakura's heart clenched. He didn't see them anymore. He was too consumed by his quest for revenge, too lost in the darkness that surrounded him. She had thought sparing Itachi would give Sasuke the chance to confront his brother, to find the closure he needed, but now...she wasn't sure.

"You don't get it, do you, Sasuke?" she muttered under her breath as he disappeared from view. "We're your team...your family. But all you can see is him."

Naruto scratched his head, looking between her and where Sasuke had gone. "He's been acting weird since we ran into those guys with the weird cloaks." He paused, then added softly, "I don't know what's going on with him, but we'll figure it out, Sakura-chan. We always do, right?"

Sakura nodded absentmindedly, though her mind was miles away. She knew Naruto meant well — his optimism was unwavering, and his belief in their team was admirable. But Sakura wasn't sure if "figuring it out" was going to be enough this time.

That night, as she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she reached for the Death Note. Her fingers traced the edges of the black cover, the weight of it somehow heavier than before. She could've written Itachi's name and ended Sasuke's torment in an instant. But then, what would have been left for Sasuke? Would he even have thanked her? Or would he have cursed her for taking away the one thing that had defined him for so long?

Her mind spun with possibilities. Sasuke was slipping away, and no matter how much she or Naruto tried, they couldn't seem to reach him. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn't understand him the way they thought they did. His pain, his drive for revenge — it was deeper than anything they could touch.

The Death Note remained closed in her lap. She couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter what choice she made, someone would get hurt. But what scared her more was the realization that Sasuke might never come back from the darkness that had swallowed him whole.

For the first time in a long while, Sakura felt powerless. She had a tool of unimaginable strength in her possession, yet it couldn't fix the one thing she truly wanted: to save her team.

And as the village quieted for the night, Sakura's resolve hardened. She couldn't afford to hesitate anymore — not with the Death Note, and not with Sasuke. If the time came, she would do what needed to be done. Even if it meant losing him.