Sakura used to go to the library as often as she did the kami-damned Tora-'mission' when the prissy clan children complained about broken fingernails; always.
It was after her second reassignment into the standard genin corps, instead of the jōnin-track, that she met him in her safe haven. By that time, she had already become such a known fixture that the librarian duty-chūnin (and occasional tokubetsu jōnin) didn't even bat an eye at her lending books that were so much above her paygrade it wasn't even funny.
He, a tokujō on forced medical leave, or, a man working in an incredibly specified field of work that lent itself to too much work and too little rest. Sometimes the Hokage sent shinobi outside the rotation to man the front desk, as a sort of punishment for not taking enough care of themselves. She was smart enough to realize that most of these were the absolute elite - ANBU.
The normal desk rotation was always kind enough to leave notes behind to verify her reading habits because they were just nice like that.
Now, he, quite obviously one of the elite, didn't appear to have read the note at all, if the way he eyed her chosen stack of books was any indication. Just like that, she started mentally preparing herself for a week or so of incredibly dull afternoons.
"Kid, you don't have the authorization for that and you know it." True, she was always rather aware of her own inadequacy, almost painfully so, especially when faced with people like him who were so powerful with little effort.
"Hagane-san left a note about this." This, as in her. Hagane-san, usually a gate guard, was nice like that because he seemed to know the usual rotation of chūnin would be out of sorts a little while longer.
"He did. But you're a corps genin." He hadn't been unkind about it, yet it still stung harshly. It wasn't her fault and she knew it, but he didn't.
"I know." By now she knew how to do this, but he, specifically, unsettled her somehow. "For the second time." She could appeal to his empathy, even if any kind of pity at all made her want to vomit in a bid to expel her uneasiness. But that didn't matter so long as it bought her her books.
And, his look turned inquisitive, so. Success. (- or something.) "I took the jōnin-track test twice now, but any prospective instructors felt it only fair to fail us as a unit." Ah, not quite pity (yet), but at least something.
"And after, you didn't quit? Not even after you failed your second try?" She shook her head, no. She had played with the thought, yes, but ultimately decided against it.
"And why do you spend time reading instead of training so you don't fail next time?" There was a hint of condescension, she was sure of it. In the end, being patronized by the elite felt even worse than being pitied for her lack of clan lineage, really.
"I am training the best way I know how. Without an instructor, I'd surely develop bad habits training physically. This way, I can get better theoretically. I-," she swallowed around her pride. "I doubt there's going to be a fourth try.
"What makes you so sure there will be a third?"
She gathered her courage and stared right into his eyes as she answered. "I was promised by Sandaime-sama."
The tokujō looked very incredulous then, frowning in doubt. "And when you fail your next try?"
She felt something burn and wither deep inside her at his blatant, casual dismissal of her chance of success.
"If I do, I'll join either Cryptology or Intelligence," she answered in a clipped tone.
There was a glint in his eyes, then, something she couldn't decipher for the life of her. It made her uncomfortable, so she left.