Vengeance
My teacher is haunted, thought Sakura, torn between cackling like a mad banshee and smiling ruefully at the sight only she was capable of seeing. I’ve never seen so many ghosts around one person before.
Behind him, Rin and Kushina chatted animatedly with Shisui, discussing Kakashi and his life, including missions, attitude, reputation and the silver-haired man’s well-being in general. Embarrassing childhood stories were exchanged, none of them willing to consider standing in her shoes or his tattered first impression from her point of view. (She did not need to know about Hatake Kakshi’s five–second crush on Uchiha Obito or how her sensei’s rose–tinted lenses were shattered painfully. She can never look at him the same again.)
Behind them were two legendary figures — the White Fang and the Yellow Flash. They stood side by side a fair bit of distance from the gossipers wearing matching rueful grins on their faces. Neither made attempts to salvage the last of her sanity.
All over the place was semi–transparent phantoms with bloodied faces and anguished bearings. Their ghastly hands reached out to grasp the jounin, but all fell short, pitifully passing through his body. It was depressing in a way Sakura was intimately familiar with. She winced as Kushina punched a rather handsy ghost. That must hurt.
Death, the loss of life. Nobody cared enough for them to be anywhere else other than their killer. Poor souls. If only they had someone they had an emotional connection to.
So this was where Rin and Kushina went then they were free, Sakura mused, keeping half an ear open to what her teacher and teammates were speaking of. It seemed like they were introducing themselves, although she knew enough about all of them to write biographies. It may not be well–liked, but it could serve as a mean wake-up call.
This is what happens to shinobi, so the best of the best. Konoha’s roots are rotten to the core. Jinchuuriki are human, not monsters, and neither are the bijuu sealed in them. These people are lonely, and does nobody see anything?
“It’s your turn, Sakura–chan!” Naruto called out expectantly.
The rosette blinked, lips pursed in contemplation while weighing her words’ weight. She shouldn’t disclose too much information, especially any that could be used against her, but too little information will seem distrustful. Not too much and not too little; to show both trust and caution.
“My name is Haruno Sakura. I like umeboshi and sword fighting. I don’t like arrogance and annoyance. My dream is to be a good shinobi.”
A good shinobi. Because bad shinobi were killed in action while those too capable were sent on increasingly difficult missions leaving them a hair’s breadth away from death. She had barely any ambition than to be normal — becoming Hokage or avenging a dead clan was too far out of her league. Sakura would be happy as a chunin or tokubetsu jounin specialising in kenjutsu, living a semi–idyllic life in–village.
Kakashi scrutinised her for a few seconds. Sakura immediately dropped her arms to the sides, blinked innocently and smiled. The jounin seemed to eventually decide there wasn’t much to see here, focusing his attention on something else.
“Look away, little wolf,” a stray ghost cooed almost affectionately, voice saccharine sweet. She had messy long black hair that cascaded down her back, a bloody, mangled arm, and a severed hand lying inconspicuously on the floor. “Look away, look away, look away. The girl is too young to be noticed and snapped up by the miserable puppets. Far too young.”
Miserable puppets… The rosette noted to herself. Kakashi was explaining about a test. Wow, such a high failure rate, so awfully specific. Although there is a chance they might return to the academy, most that they’ll suffer is another year. If not, the likelihood of being shuffled over to the Genin corps is still prominent and present.
Sakura remained quiet, lips zipped shut, occasionally smiling and nodding at appropriate times. Kakashi pegged her as a shy girl, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. She simply had nothing good to say, and her mother taught her as a civilian woman caring about appearances, that if one has nothing good to say, one need not say anything at all.
In a few minutes, their jounin sensei vanished with a flurry of leaves. Sakura fearlessly picked one up for closer inspection and was not surprised that they were elm leaves — it’s no wonder at all, given housewives in Konoha sweep these leaves off their porches every morning. The whole village is overgrown with this particular variant.
Perhaps it was supposed to mean something. Underneath the underneath, an ANBU ghost once said, who heard it from his comrade; who, in turn, heard it from his senior’s team leader in passing. Using leaves for shunshin as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf village. Symbolism, maybe.
The rosette waved goodbye to her teammates and began the walk home, Instantly after her front door clicked shut, Sakura turned around to demand of her ghost friends, “I need everything you know about the test. Whatever you know.”
Rin’s grin almost split her face in two; Kushina was trying very hard not to laugh, but failing horrendously as she chortled while clutching her stomach. Even the Yondaime Hokage couldn’t help but chuckle.
Sakura furrowed her brows, observing their reaction. It was like she missed out on an inside joke. “What?”
Kushina flicked away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s the first time any genin asked about the test!” She exclaimed joyously.
“What test?” The rosette felt herself grow faint.
“What does Konoha pride themselves about?” Minato asked, just as the pieces came together to form a vague picture. She distantly recalled such a question in the academy curriculum. What had been the answer already? Ah, right…
Teamwork. The test is about teamwork.
Sakura buried her face in her hands, resisting the urge to scream. She lives in a village full of mercenaries for hire. Screaming is the last thing she should do.
Her teammates are Naruto and Sasuke. Naruto and Sasuke do not know teamwork if it slapped them across the face harshly.
She ran to her room, slammed the door shut and screamed frustrations into her pillow.