Sun Tzu said: "The art of war is vital to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence, it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected."
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Sakura found herself lying on the ground next to the mutilated body of the man she killed. A few crows were already gnawing on the crushed skin of his fingers. She moved, and they all scattered into the sky. The first thing a person wants to wake up to is not the smell of rotting flesh or a decaying body. She used her little strength to push herself up and force her legs to move.
She was tired. Tired of the sage's shit and his meddling. What gives him the right to put everything on her to fix things that are decades into the future? Is he trying to play God or prove a point? He is no god. He's a piece of shit who has a problem being nosey, and Sakura wasn't going to be his counselor.
The walk back was a treat. The storm came before the calm. The sun's rays poked through trees outside the various lodge houses and bars connected to them. Morning air settled in after the dew dried from the grass. It was a beautiful sight compared to many drunk people prowling on the streets at night. Sakura wished it were like this every day.
When she returned, she was greeted by Hana, who was smoking her usual pipe. This time, their interaction was concerned with their usual mixture of conversation.
"Jashin's ballsack, what the fuck happened to you?" Hana said, bewildered at the state of the four-year-old.
Sakura gave her a bewildered look.
Hana responded, knowing exactly what Sakura was thinking. "Shut it, kid; read some history books, and you'll know what I'm cursing."
Instead of retorting something back, she collapsed face-first on the wooden floor. Cursing, she felt her limp body being lifted over the shoulders of Hana. A flight of stairs later, they were in Hana's room. Sakura's breath hitched as she was laid on the wooden floor with only a blanket. Not even a pillow was provided—Hana wasn't too keen on having dry blood on her futon.
Hana set her Kiseru on its stand, sitting on her low-table desk with paperwork scattered everywhere. Sakura weakly moved her head towards Hana, who began to run a diagnostic on Sakura. The warmth of the green glow brought Sakura back to life, figuratively. Her body wanted to sink inside the warm space it provided, but habit wouldn't let her. Sakura's mind was still recovering from the shock of last night. Her mind was used to that rush and wouldn't let her sleep. She allowed no melatonin in her body in times like these. It brought back memories she forced to the back of her head.
Even though the war lasted a week at most—it had been the most driven and hellish week of her life. She didn't do much besides heal. Her teammates did all the fighting, and they were the ones who saved her half the time. There was nothing traumatic she experienced until Naruto's death, and it was because of her interference. She begged Sasuke not to fight Naruto, but he trapped her in a Genjutsu. She could have been there in time to save Naruto if it hadn't been for that. Most of her seal had been drained, and she was running thin on chakra when she arrived at the Valley of the End. She used the rest of it out of rage and fear.
Her world slowed when she watched Naruto die on the cliff's edge. She remembered hearing nothing except the rush of her blood moving through her system to give her that last energy boost.
Sasuke had always told her to keep out of his revenge because she would never understand. Now she does.
She understood exceedingly well.
Perhaps that drove her to land that killing blow on the man she loved. Her love for him turned cold, and she couldn't feel anything for him anymore. At that time, Sakura didn't hesitate to kill him as she had done on that bridge before. Sakura hopes that the two are resting peacefully in the afterlife. Both boys had been through enough, and it was her turn to go through hell.
"Sakura, go to sleep," Hana recommended.
"Can't."
Hana didn't argue because she didn't know what had happened to Sakura. Being that this is a red-light district, she could only guess.
"Fine, but why are your chakra levels so low?"
She didn't answer.
"Girl, I'll make you clean the entire bar downstairs if you don't tell me."
Sakura put her arm over her eyes. This old coot reminded her of Tsunade with her demanding tone. A few stray tears came down one of her eyes.
Right, no, Sakura didn't want to do that. That bar was the part where the prostitutes got their clients drunk before they fucked. She wanted nothing to do with that stench. Sakura opened her mouth, "I found a Shinobi assaulting a woman and tried to help her before he turned to me. Then I killed him."
"You know this line of work, Sakura. How did you know if he was—"
She gritted her teeth harshly, "Because he had his dick in her, and she was crying for help. I've never heard your workers cry like that, so excuse me if I don't count that as fucking rape."
The fact that a child was spitting that kind of language and understanding didn't surprise Hana. Growing up in an Okiya took away their innocent understanding early in life.
Hana believed her but wanted to be sure. "I believe you, so calm down. How did you manage to kill a grown man?"
"I awakened something."
Eyes wide, Hana breathed in a long sigh. This is why she made contraceptives her workers took before engaging in sex. If one of them has a child and they awaken a blood limit, that child could be taken from the mother and put into battle where no child should be, should the clan find out. Shinobi was their primary customer in this profession. Hana didn't want children going through the shit she had to endure. Sakura's mother was in a different case, but she couldn't help it. Sakura was lucky enough not to have gone through what her mother did.
Civilian parents sold Sakura's mother, Kyoko, when she was very young. She worked her way up the ranks within this establishment. She was ten when she started training with other yūjo. It wasn't surprising when she was scoped out quickly. Her pink hair was rare, and people liked rare things. Some collected them, and others used them until their worth was gone.
Kyoko was thirteen when she received her first customer. He wanted to go for a walk around the district. The man was drunk and unclear about what he was doing, but that was no excuse for his actions. That man had raped her until sunset. The trauma lingers until this day inside poor Kyoko's head, but she doesn't let that stop her career. She is a very doting mother. She spent her money on Sakura, dressing her in the best kimono and hairpins. This is why Hana can not let Kyoko see her daughter like this. She still remembers Kyoko's determination to keep her child after discovering her pregnancy.
"I can help with an abortion, but you will need time to recover," Hana offered, setting her Kiseru on her desk. She looked up at the green-eyed child in front of her. "You're young so that the procedure will take a toll on—"
Kyoko's fists clenched. "No, I will not get rid of this child, and it's not their fault that I was raped. No matter what you say, I will keep her."
Hana hesitated. "I can give the proper funds to support you until you give birth, but I expect to be paid back."
Kyoko put a hand on her stomach. "That is not a problem."
"We will keep quiet about this situation from your mother. Any problems you have, come to me."
"I won't have any."
"You cannot be so sure about that."
"I can."
Hana took her hands off Sakura. "You should have enough chakra to function for the day; if you can't sleep, just rest; no hard activity. I need to know what you awakened."
"Wood release."
Hana's blue eyes zeroed in on Sakura like a target. She's heard talk of that blood limit. A young boy from the Senju clan was known to possess it, and now this girl says she has it. It was a hard fact to believe. How can that be possible? It's been over a thousand years since their clan awakened something rare. Now Kyoko's child has it. The man that raped her was from the Senju clan, but Kyoko never gave her details of who Sakura's father was because it wasn't necessary, but now it is. The boy with the same ability is the Senju Clan leader's firstborn. Then that means...
"Batsuma," Hana venomously muttered.
Hana knew that name, and nobody missed it. He was on every bounty's wanted list, and his head was put on the highest price next to Taijima's, the Uchiha's leader. "Fucking hell..."
She's too old to deal with this shit. . . "Sakura, this stays between us. Whatever you do, do not tell anyone what you have awakened. If you do, you will be hunted, and bad men will try to kill or sell you in the black market."
"I get it."
Hana clenched a fist. "No, you don't. Do not try to use that ability; you have never awakened it. Is that clear?"
Sakura could be put on a battlefield, taken by the Senju, or used by the Senju as a broodmare. Clans did everything to produce strong sons. This was a dark era that she hoped would end soon. Freedom did not exist here.
Sakura nodded. "Crystal clear, as long as you teach me medical ninjutsu."
"Deal."
That imp dared to give Hana a snide smirk as if she had won the lottery. It seems that killing a man barely fazed this child or the fact that people will kill to get their hands on her because of her blood limit. Hana thinks she's dealing with a psychopathic child. Could she ever get a break in her old age?
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Hana began teaching Sakura medical ninjutsu during the day when no Shinobi lurked. Customers only came at night and late evening. She wouldn't use chakra at night—Shinobi could sense it and wouldn't expect to feel it at a prostitution house.
Healers were rare. Medical ninjutsu was hard to come by. Only the ones with reasonable chakra control could use it. The only reason it wasn't so widespread is because the Nohara users specialized in it. Hana's clan made their way by being hired by the more prominent clans. After her clan was raided, the remaining people probably were forced to teach other clans. However, she knew that her clan would commit suicide before they gave out the advanced form of medical ninjutsu to outsiders.
Besides, few people can specialize in medical ninjutsu because clans always focus on being on the front lines. Clans frequently had their head so far up their ass they could taste what they had for their last meal.
Sakura was a prodigy in medical ninjutsu. The child went as far as to experiment with her chakra control in gruesome ways. Never in Hana's old life had she seen a child as bright or reckless as her. With every genius came a touch of madness.
The child dared to steal stray kunai from some ninjas that lurked downstairs.
She used those kunai to create shallow wounds in herself to heal. There was a fierce determination whenever she healed herself. Sometimes, it was like Sakura knew what she was doing and was trying to relearn it. Whether or not that's true, Hana did believe in supernatural theories.
One theory she came up with was that Sakura was the reincarnation of a great medical ninja. Essentially, her mind provided her with knowledge of that past life. Another theory was that Sakura retained all her memories of her past life and knew exactly what she was doing. Whether it was true or not, Hana wouldn't question what the gods were doing. She was too old to give a shit anyways. She only wanted to smoke her Kiseru and relax the rest of her days away.
All she can do is at least teach this possible reincarnation something that she could use to live a better life than her mother. Sakura wasn't meant to become a sex worker. Sakura was destined for something greater. Perhaps she could become a traveling healer or make a decent living in a remote village as their healer. Before that, she had to teach Sakura to kill with medical ninjutsu. Hana hopes that Sakura will come to visit if she ever decides to leave this establishment. She will miss that crazy child—
Hana sniffed the air. Blood. Not period blood but the fresh kind from a wound. It was coming from the back of the establishment where the woods were. As she landed, Hana wasted no time jumping out the window, casually smoking her cannabis. She blew out a puff and trotted over to the smell.
What she saw nearly made her drop her Kiseru. That crazy fucking brat—
Sakura embedded a kunai straight through her right forearm. Blood splashed on the green grass as she rapidly took it out. Hana felt the change in Sakura's chakra signature shift into something calm. Green glowed from the wound, sewing it shut in thirty seconds. Hana allowed her frowning mouth to gap open like a fish. Sakura looked at her, gave her an excited smile that showed zero pain, and presented her arm like a prize.
"Hey, granny, I finally mastered healing a stab wound!" The child dared to chirp.
Thank God for cannabis. It's moments like these that she needs it for. "You—how? Only people with exceptional control and perfect memorization of each part of the wound can heal that fast."
Maybe the gods really cursed her with this reincarnated shithead.
"Ah, I have a very good memory," Sakura said, unsure how to lie about years of knowledge burnt into her mind. Luckily, Hana didn't press on the subject.
Sakura used her own body as practice because there were no patients to work on. It's not like she's working in a hospital to get training with various wounds and diseases.
"Jashin, you are such a handful. You won't get married with all those scars on your arms," Hana pointed out, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Sakura could heal scars later but wanted more practice before moving on to cosmetic healing. She had a long way to go before getting this body as skilled as her last. She was lucky that her chakra control came with her in this life. "But I don't plan on getting married. Besides, who gives a shit if I have scars? A true lover won't care what I look like; I'm not a prize."
Ugh, old habits began to resurface. In most clans, women had perfect skin and a suitable body type to get a prospective marriage offer. It was the same way with her clan. She only brought up that subject because women can't make a good living unless it is with their bodies. Sakura had a good chance at making a living through healing, and that's if she could grow strong enough to protect herself from getting captured by a clan. With Sakura's psychotic attitude, she had no doubt she'd scare the clans off anyway. This brat stabbed herself with a kunai and acted like it didn't hurt. Either she's that good with medical ninjutsu or plain crazy.
"I know, but your lover would have to be just as crazy as you to stay by your side," Hana pointed out, shaking her head.
Sakura shrugged. "Only if they can defeat me."
"Try not to get too ahead of yourself. Some children have trained in the ninja arts since they could walk, and there are children younger than you on the battlefield right now."
Sakura smirked. "So?"
"You're an interesting piece of work; you know that?"
"I'll take that as a compliment."
By nature, Tobirama was a very stoic individual who listened to his father's rules. The reason why he was born is to protect his older brother. Hashirama was the pride of the Senju clan, being the only one to awaken wood release after a thousand years. From the tender age of learning how to walk, he trained. That's all he knew how to do. The moment he turned three, he got a front-row view of the horrors of war. He saw the malicious smirk of excitement when his father killed off Uchiha like cattle. Batsuma made it his personal goal to kill as many as possible in every battle. It seems that's all he was happy about. Nothing brought him a smile unless it was Hashirama. Consistently, Tobirama has been reminded of his role in life. No matter how much of a genius he was, he could never be his brother.
Instead of crying about it, he kept everything bottled up. He remained stoic because he didn't allow himself to show emotion, not even on the battlefield—sometimes home was a battlefield.
Then came their mother's death. He wanted to cry, but he would have ended up like Hashirama. Father hit him at the funeral for crying. Before he could do anymore, Tobirama stepped in. Maybe his father was sad and was taking it out on them, but the physical abuse is his form of love toward his children—sometimes his deceased wife.
Their father would repeat, "Women are fragile and only good for bearing sons," when Touka asked to train with her boy cousins.
It wasn't a surprise in Tobirama's eyes. He held a different opinion; women were more than that. They were mothers who would do anything to keep their children out of harm. That's what his mother did until she fell ill. She was supposed to have great genetics, considering she was from the Hatake Clan. Father's marriage was political, much like many clan heads were. He was glad he had no sisters because they would have been bred for that. Tobirama suspected he had sisters, but they were all dead. When Itama was born, he had a twin sister. His mother wanted to name her Itami but couldn't since his father had killed her—he suspected.
From a young age, Tobirama was observant. Almost too observant for his good.
"Rid of the female; I do not need them," his father told one of the midwives.
He had been awake the night of Itama's birth, scribbling notes down and about to show them to his father. They were seals the clan already had but could be further improved on. At the time, he froze up.
The door slid open to his father's study abruptly, revealing the older midwife. She gave him a haughty look before bowing and taking her to leave. Tobirama was too fixated on the stern look on his father's face to say anything. Instead, he promptly handed his note to his father.
"Take your leave; I have other matters to attend to," Batsuma said, slamming the door in Tobirama's face.
Tobirama had been once again confronted with something like this when his father heard the news of a pink-haired girl with the wood release. There was an instant kill-on-sight order for her after one of the many prostitutes of Yoshiwara had reported it. All of this was a word-by-mouth sort of thing. There was no indefinite proof that she existed until his father ordered one of the clan artists to draw a description of her. The fact that he guessed what the girl looked like was proof enough. The picture of her was in Tobirama's hands.
The look of struggle on his father's face nearly brought a smirk to his lips, but he kept it down. Something about this girl was pissing him off.
"Tobirama. I have a mission for you, one only you can do."
The white-haired child sat before his father, kneeling by the low table.
"Four years ago, a whore had used me to get my seed, and this girl is the result of such," his father explained. "I need you to kill her."
This girl was the same age as Itama. He won't—
Tobirama knew the undertone of his words: 'Used him to get his seed.'
Utter Lies.
He used the girl for pleasure, and the girl kept the baby. Tobirama was young enough to acquire such knowledge, but he had a firm grasp of human reproduction and anatomy in his mind. The reason why his father wants this girl dead is that she was a girl with the Mokuton. He didn't want a bastard child of the Senju to have a name that could disrupt his prized heir's reputation, but Hashirama wouldn't want this fate bestowed on a little girl. He would like the girl to be left alive. Hashirama would wish to see his sister, even if she was a bastard.
"Father, I can't. There is too much seal work that needs to be improved."
That had been the first time he refused a mission from his father. The disappointment and the crumpled paper to his face had been worth it. He took the paper from the ground, looking at the girl. Cherry Blossoms were the first things his mind came up with. Her emerald eyes and hair certainly did not scream Senju, but it wasn't like Itama's hair wasn't any weirder.
The first thing Tobirama would do was to find this girl at all costs. Over many weeks, he began inventing a new jutsu that would allow him to be in two places simultaneously. Nobody could tell it wasn't him if he distributed his chakra evenly among these clones.
Hana had sensed evil chakra before, specifically on the night of her clan's downfall. Those kinds of presences come at the time their target is sleeping or when they're vulnerable. They stalk them for days, getting to know their pattern of daily life and studying them before going for the kill. Those are what Hana called assassins. The ones bred in this era could be fiercer than a whole platoon of Shinobi. They study their target(s) down to the last grain of life. They are using that knowledge to take out many or one at once. They are so adapted to concealing chakra that it takes a sensor to notice them and sensors are rare. Not even that crazy child with a natural aptitude for chakra could wake if one came for her.
Luckily, Hana could. That night her clan was slaughtered, she engrained herself to sense chakra for miles out of the sole fear they would come back for her. When someone meets death, they gain new skills they never knew they wanted. All for the sake of survival.
Hana was about to fall asleep when she was taken back to the past. She froze and overwhelmed her own system to break out of the trance. Then she pieced everything together— Sakura, wood release, Kyoko, Batsuma... Her body reacted before her mind could. Instinct drove her stiff limbs to rush to Kyoko's room. Before the tanto could be driven through the child, she shot her Kiseru through the man's jugular. He stood stiffly. His eyes rolled back like his body. Out the window he came from. Her pale blue eyes caught sight of the Senju symbol on his short sword. Most Shinobi don't carry those unless they specialize in assassination missions rather than going to the bigger battles like their clan members. Only assassins didn't wear their clan symbol on their back.
The body thumped on the ground two stories down.
Sakura woke, horrified, confused, and royally pissed off at herself.
Hana sighed when Kyoko barely stirred from the noise—the woman had always been a heavy sleeper. The older woman put her hands behind her back, contemplating what the fuck she was going to do after this incident.
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Her green eyes woke to the sound of Hana's Kiseru piercing itself through the man's neck who was standing over her. His tanto dropped at Sakura's feet as her eyes focused on the familiar symbol on its handle. Senju—what the fuck? Then she looked at Hana and breathed out an annoyed sigh. Sakura slid the tanto beneath her pillow, knowing she could use that for herself (knowing she had no weapons besides stolen kunai, but even those were worn down).
"There goes my good Kiseru," Hana mumbles, leaving the room with silent footsteps. Sakura follows her, leaving her blankets scattered on her futon.
That's what she's worried about? Not the significance of the man she just killed or why he was here?
"What are you doing, brat? Can't you see that you're supposed to be sleeping? Not following my ass like shit to toilet paper?" Hana said, sitting on her futon.
"Aren't you worried why someone tried to kill me?"
"Deal with it when I wake. Now I'm old, and sleep is what I need..."
"Or you're just being lazy..." Sakura dodged the incoming envelope opener she threw from her desk, which was placed on the left of her futon. It lodged into the wooden sliding door.
"Skit, child!"
"Old hag..."
"Do I need to wake your mother?"
Sakura politely slammed the door to Hana's office.
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After Hana left, Sakura jumped out of her window and inspected the dead body.
The man had a painted picture of her in his kunai pouch, and no clan symbols were anywhere on his clothing, meaning he was sent to assassinate her. No assassin proudly wears their symbol on the job. They often have to go undercover to study their target. These assassins were the A.N.B.U. of this era. For some reason, Sakura was supposed to have died, and she wanted to know why.
Searching him from head to toe, she found a sealing scroll much like Konoha's sealing scrolls. It would make sense since the Senju was one of the founders of her village. She unsealed the column where Shinobi would typically store their mission scroll—it seems like many future Konoha Shinobi took after Senju clan seals, possibly with the Uzumaki if the alliance had been formed shortly after Hashirama's birth. After living in this era for four years, an arranged marriage between two babies wouldn't surprise her.
The Senju Shinobi's scroll indicated the following:
Mission Rank: 1-A
Type: Assassination
Location: Kaguya Clan Prostitution District
Target's Name: Unknown
Description: Presumably, pink hair and pale green eyes are going off the maternal mother's looks.
Age(s): Four, maybe five.
Signed, 千手仏間 (Senju Batsuma)
Why would he want her dead? Hana deliberately told her that the clan would use her like a broodmare or enslave her for the wood release. It wasn't surprising Sakura that word got out since there was another witness at the scene—the woman she saved. In return, she got a signed warrant for her death. This confuses her more than anything.
The old bat told her not to worry about it until she woke, but it wasn't just Sakura's life on the line; it was her mother's. Rather than let Hana sleep, she decides to wake her up horribly.
Sakura takes everything off the dead body: a pouch of expensive kunai, the tanto's beautiful leather casing, and several sealing scrolls with other useful weapons she could unseal later. Then, she uses chakra to climb the wall and pop through Hana's window. She slams the mission scroll on the side of Hana's head with a hissing sound.
"What the hell?!"
Sakura crouched on the window sill like a frog. "Yeah 'wHaT tHe FuCk'! Did you lose brain cells to something? The bastards got an assassination mission scroll assigned by the Senju clan leader!"
That got the old hag's attention. She thought this matter could wait.
Hana grumbled fuck before sitting up and lazily her drawing her arm to grab her Kiseru. Then she studied the mission scroll with serious eyes before turning to Sakura. There was a bleak, darkening silence between them before Hana spoke. "Just go to bed."
Sakura tried to hold it down. She tried—
Then, the pinkette froze when she saw something within Hana's light brown eyes—an austere look. The look one gave when they commanded those lower to obey their command. Sakura could read Hana's eyes without much effort because she knew then that Hana would handle this matter much as she did to that Shinobi. "Sakura. Go to bed."
Sakura wanted to huff and puff like a child with her current body as the excuse but decided against it. She just had to trust Hana. Trying to trust an older woman she had only known for four years was hard. Sakura wanted to trust someone again, truly. But it was hard after her interactions with the sage. After recently remembering her conversation with him, she wanted to believe that the memories of it were not sealed away like they weren't meant to be remembered at certain points in her life.
It was a mystery she would solve in time, but now, she was in bed—as much as she didn't want to since questions were circulating inside her head.
A little increase in her natural melatonin levels that medical ninjutsu let her play with never hurt anyone.
Hana took more of whatever was in her Kiseru that night to sleep.