Chapter 18
Chapter 18: I Have No Right
Sakura, with her duffle bag and loose hair, followed Sasuke to his compound. She had asked him if he minded teaching her shuriken jutsu. The truth was, she wanted to observe the Uchiha's fighting styles—just a bit. She had no right to wield the Sharingan; she had awakened it via genetic modifications within ROOT’s walls. But after accidentally awakening her Mangekyō last week, she had hit a wall. She had tried mastering her special power, but it was hard.
Her feet stepped on one stair after another, Sasuke ahead of her, whistling a happy tune, his hand in his pocket, unaware of her inner turmoil, guilt, and pain.
As they climbed the stairs to his compound, Sasuke turned his face back to her, looking down at her with concern. “You fine, Saku? We’re almost there. Sorry, since I’m from the main branch, we live a bit on a hill...” His shirt fluttered slightly, the Uchiha fan symbol on his back catching her attention—it was mesmerizing.
The stairs weren’t a problem—she had decent stamina—but she wouldn’t tell him that. She looked at him, her eyes soft.
She had no right to this place.
She had kidnapped children in the dark on Danzō’s orders, tortured them for his greed for the Sharingan, and implanted their eyes into the bastard’s arm. She suppressed the memories—the screams, the blood—and focused on Sasuke.
“Uh, yes, sorry,” she responded quickly, climbing the stairs faster. Her long pink hair was frazzled from a chaotic hospital shift and the missions her team had completed today. After their mission, she had humbly asked her teammates to help her “improve” her shuriken and kunai skills, hoping to throw Kakashi off. He was getting suspicious.
Sasuke turned away, a relieved smile tugging at his mouth. He waited until she was beside him, and then they continued walking together.
The Uchiha district stretched out beneath them, buzzing with life. Sakura suppressed a feeling of regret. She had no right to be here.
At the training ground, Sasuke explained a power-throwing technique and then demonstrated it. Sakura dropped her duffle bag, tied her hair back, and retrieved some kunai and shuriken.
Lately, she had been less careful about controlling her chakra. She had almost let her Hatake reserves slip—a dangerous mistake. She had to be more careful.
As she followed Sasuke’s instructions and threw her shuriken, she noticed a faint smile on his face.
She smiled back. Would he still accept her if he knew her past? That she had ripped apart some of his kin for Danzō and ROOT to save herself? No way. She was a freak—not his kin. Just a thief.
She continued to throw her shuriken and kunai, observing every move he made.
“Oy, Sakura-chan! Sasuke-kun!”
It was Mikoto. She ran toward them, a plate of snacks in her hands. “You’ve been working all afternoon. Come on, have a snack! Come on, come on!” She pushed the plate toward Sakura. The kindness, the familial warmth—it was unbearable. It mocked her.
Sakura avoided looking into her eyes. “That’s very nice of you, Mikoto-sama, you didn't need to....”
Sasuke’s face flushed. “Geh, Mom, you’re such a pushover.”
"Nonsense Sakura come on I bet Sasuke worked you to the bone without offering something!"
" MOM!"
Guiltily, Sakura grabbed a snack ignoring their bickering, bit down, and chewed. She felt like crying but suppressed the tears. “It’s delicious...”
Mikoto beamed.
But Sakura’s throat tightened. She wanted to cry, the emotions swirling in her chest too much to hold. The warmth of Mikoto’s kindness felt like a mockery, a stark contrast to the horrors she had participated in. The children she had taken deserved this kindness far more than she did.
Sakura forced the snack down, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. She would carry this guilt alone. No one else could know.
And yet, as she glanced at Sasuke—at his quiet support, his unknowing trust—she felt the weight grow heavier.
She had no right to his kindness. The other children she had killed deserved this much more than she did.
Then, from the house emerged a tired-faced Itachi. His ANBU gear was half off, no doubt from a hellish mission. He walked to his brother, gave him a shoulder smack, and whispered something. All Sakura could read from his lips was “girlfriend?” Sasuke's face became beet red, and he retaliated by gesturing wildly as he tried to hit his older brother, who smirked proudly at his tease. Mikoto looked at them and then at her with a beaming smile.
Sakura looked away, sad.
She didn’t deserve love. Mikoto said something to her softly.
Probably asking her to stay for dinner.
Sakura tightened her jaw. She wanted to scream in frustration. This was just pure agony.
If Mikoto knew what she did to the children of her clan—how Sakura, at seven years old until recently at ten, ripped apart children for ROOT on Danzō’s orders, all for his greed for power—she would kill Sakura.
And Sakura would deserve it.
She was a chimera, a genetic abomination, a tool, a weapon. That’s all she deserved.
She didn’t deserve the attention and love given by her teammates.
The happy waves Kakashi gave her each morning during training, asking her if she wanted to be adopted by him—where she rolled her eyes at him and mumbled a no—not because she didn’t want it, but because she was afraid she might harm him and Sakumo with her night walks and night terrors.
She didn’t deserve her friends: Ino, who loved to gossip about the village and life; Hinata, who invited her to flower pressing and tea ceremonies; and Tenten when they sparred or went hunting for new weapons together.
She didn’t deserve to be in their lives.
Thousands of kids, the others who survived, adjusted to life well.
She, however, shouldn’t have survived. She should have died in ROOT. She should have ended her life like she ended Danzō’s.
And yet, as Sasuke glanced back at her with a shy smile, offering another piece of advice on her throw, she found herself clinging to the moment.
Even if she didn’t deserve it, she wanted to stay just a little longer.
She gave the empty plate back to Mikoto and gently declined the dinner, which made Mikoto pout and Sasuke sigh at his mom, embarrassed.
Sakura’s heart tightened; her stomach dropped. Her mind screamed at her to walk away, to isolate herself, to spare these people the burden of her presence. Yet she lingered, her feet rooted to the ground as Sasuke looked at her again, offering another piece of advice about her throw.
“I have no right,” she thought to herself. “I have no right to be here with people and enjoy life...”