Chapter 14
Chapter 14: Phantom Pains
Sakura bolted upright in her bed, a blood-curdling scream tearing from her throat. Her hand moved on instinct, grabbing the kunai beneath her pillow and launching it across the room. The weapon embedded itself deep in the wooden wall with a solid thunk. Her screams echoed through the tiny house, swallowed by the silence of the abandoned district.
Her chest heaved, each gasp of air a struggle. Her hands clawed at her throat as if suffocating. She forced green medical chakra to flow into her lungs, her trembling fingers glowing faintly. Slowly, her breathing steadied, though the sweat-soaked room felt suffocating.
The house was silent, but she felt the oppressive weight of the nightmare—or memory—pressing down on her.
She leaned back against the wall, trying to ground herself, breathing in and out in deliberate, shaky intervals. Finally, she peeled herself from the damp sheets, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. The blankets pooled at her feet as she staggered toward the bathroom.
The ice-cold water of the bath offered some reprieve, shocking her senses back into reality. When she emerged, shivering and dripping, she faced her reflection in the tall mirror. Her eyes, hollow and distant, stared back at her. Her body was a map of pain and survival, scars crisscrossing her pale skin. Each mark told a story—missions, ROOT’s cruel experiments, and wounds she’d inflicted upon herself.
Her gaze dropped to the tattoo under her left arm, the brand of ROOT. She pressed her palm against it and summoned her silver chakra, letting it burn into her skin. The sharp sting brought tears to her eyes, but when she looked in the mirror, the mark remained.
It always did.
Sakura wrapped a towel around herself, wincing at the lingering ache.
Her thoughts drifted to Kakashi's offer. The idea of living under the same roof as him and Sakumo was tempting, but she couldn't. Her night terrors were dangerous, her sleepwalking even more so. The last time she’d wandered in her sleep, she’d nearly harmed someone. She wouldn’t risk putting anyone else in danger—especially not them.
She remembered Sakumo’s injury. During her hospital shifts, she had supervised his recovery. The infamous White Fang of Konoha had been nearly undone in a border skirmish years ago. Officially, it had been an Iwa ambush, but Sakura knew the truth. ROOT agents disguised as Iwa shinobi had orchestrated the attack to provoke another war. Danzo had trusted her with every detail, calling her his most prized weapon.
Her jaw clenched at the memory.
Though Sakumo was back on his feet, it was a slow journey. He had been taking on courier missions and diplomatic assignments, steps toward regaining his former strength. The thought of harming someone so resilient, someone clawing their way back from tragedy, made her stomach churn.
I can’t risk it. I’ll only bring them harm.
She dried herself off and dressed quickly, her fingers trembling as she tied her headband. Exhaustion pulled at her, but rest was a luxury she didn’t deserve.
Her green eyes caught her reflection again. Slowly, they shifted, bleeding into the crimson of the Sharingan. She froze, staring at herself.
Freak. Monster. Abomination.
The words echoed in her mind, as sharp and cutting as the scars on her body. She was a chimera, a genetic experiment born from the blood of the Uchiha and Hatake clans. ROOT’s masterpiece—and their curse.
She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.
No one can ever know.
Her mind drifted to the things she had done—the horrors she had inflicted on others. The smell of blood, the sterile chill of ROOT’s labs, the bark of Danzo’s orders. She could still feel the electric shocks from the collar they’d fastened around her neck, forcing her compliance. She could still hear the screams of her fellow agents, children like herself, as she performed grotesque procedures on them.
Her hands trembled as she rubbed at her neck. The collar was gone, ROOT was destroyed, and Danzo was dead. She had killed him herself and freed the others, but it wasn’t enough.
It will never be enough.
Was that why she worked so tirelessly at the hospital? Was she trying to balance the scales, to make up for the lives she had helped destroy?
Her reflection offered no answers, only a hollow stare that she couldn’t escape.
You’re a monster, she thought bitterly. Stay away from others. Stay away from anyone who matters.
Her eyes drifted to the window, catching the faint glow of the sunrise in the distance. Another day was beginning. Another chance to keep moving, to keep working.
Sakura sighed, giving up on the idea of rest. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, skipping breakfast as usual.
“You don’t deserve peace,” she muttered under her breath as she stepped outside. “Keep moving. Keep working.”
The door creaked shut behind her, the cold morning air biting against her skin. She started toward the hospital, her steps steady but burdened. The phantom pains of her past clung to her like a shadow, a constant reminder of the sins she could never atone for.