Assay

“Get up, Haruno.”

Her body was screaming.

“Get up, Haruno.”

Sakura felt the blood rushing out of her ears trickle down her arms onto the dewy grass under her. The sun that might have typically been described as bright and happy felt scalding as it glared down at her abraded wounds.

Her eyes were blurry and unfocused. Her head pounded against her skull. She tries to lift a finger, only to discover that the searing pain from her side came from what felt like seven fingers being snapped in two. Maybe eight. Eight fingers snapped in two, not seven fingers snapped in eight. That would probably suck. She felt the acidic burn of bile rising in her throat and promptly threw up onto the grass, some of it catching her matted hair. The sudden movement of her shoulders, in her effort to expel today’s Breakfast and stomach acid, pulled at the lacerations on her chest and arms.

How many wounds did she have, anyway? The pain melted together into a giant ball of agony, not starting or ending anywhere but clawing at her soul with fiery vengeance all the same, making her want to roll up into a bowl and cry. Making her hurt.

“ Get. Up. Haruno. ”

She could hear something. Distorted. Like the crackling of a fire, or heavy boots on gravel, then something sharp clanging against stone. Or maybe that was what pain, in its purest form, sounded like. Her eyes could see cloudy images, a flash of cool green and a stark white, something long and shiny and sharp. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. Was this what dying felt like?

She swallows. Her mouth tasted like acid, bitter and acrid against the flat of her tongue. The taste of something metallic, blood?

She looks up at the sky again. It was a nice blue, reminded her of Naruto’s eyes. Or was it more like Ino’s? She was never very good at telling similar shades of colour apart, apparently got it from her dad. She stares at the sun, that giant ball of fire in the sky, just hanging there without a care in the world. She liked the sun. Even as it burned her retinas, it was warm and bright and reminded her of the good things in the world.

There was a crunch next to her head. Her green eyes settle on black sandals. Distantly, she notes that it's in a puddle of blood and oh, yeah, that’s probably her blood. The sandals still, and stop in front of her face. She squints, looking at the person's toes. She thinks ninja sandals are very poorly designed. Why have open toes when you have a huge chance of getting nicked by some random sharp pointy stabby thing? It didn’t make sense. She made a mental note to get herself some nice, closed-toe boots. Reinforced toe bits, too. Did they even make those? She doesn’t know. But she’ll probably find out when she’s not dying. And under the effects of a severe concussion. Preferably in that order.

“Get up, Haruno.”

Something in her head shrieks at her, compels her body to get the hell up and move- her world spins for a second, distorting into colours and nearly calling forth a fresh batch of bile as she rolls to the side and stumbles onto her knees. The blade of a tanto pierces into the dirt where her head was less than a second ago. She clumsily manages to stand up and uses a tree to support her weight as her vision spins before sharpening on the large green blob, porcelain mask and spots coming into focus. She opens her mouth to speak then winces at the pungent smell that comes out.

“Listen, Spots, I think I’m about to fucking die. ”

Panther, now dubbed Spots via her very concussed brain, huffs and sheathes his tanto after tugging it from the soil where her very dead corpse would have been.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You asked me to help you, right?”

“Yeah, before I found out you were the sparring partner from hell! ”

“ You told me not to hold back! ”

“You almost stabbed me! In the skull! ”

“That’s me not holding back! And I would have stopped the blade if you hadn’t rolled away like a drunk armadillo!”

“ Did you just compare me being concussed to a drunk armadillo? ”

Panther laughs, walking back to the lip of the river where the rock she had mutilated with her first ever water Jutsu stood.

“You weren’t so bad this time around, Haruno.”

“Right. He says, right after wiping the floor with me. Several times.”

“Hey now. Eating dirt is a rite of passage in Shinobi training.”

The Shinobi unclips his forest green cloak and sets it down in the shade cast by the stone. Deep violet eyes watch her as she ambles over to the rock, each movement seemingly unleashing another torrent of pain as she drags her feet through silt and mud before collapsing in a pile of limbs at the base of the boulder.

There’s a pause, then a snort from the older Shinobi.

“Dignified.”

“Shut up. Death would be a mercy right now. ‘If you can breathe, you can fight’ my ass.”

There’s a shuffling sound above her as the ANBU settles on top of the boulder, the steel of his shin guards scraping against stone as he sits cross-legged in a small patch of sunlight.

“Whining aside, Haruno, where do you think you went wrong?”

“You mean, aside from asking you for help?”

There was a deep chuckle from above her, one she quickly became familiar with after close to five months of on again off again training with the older man.

“Yes, aside from that. Give me the play-by-play, scrutinize where and when you went wrong, where and when you could have done better. Start from the beginning.”

Sakura sighs as she feels something plonk on top of her head. Cold beads of condensation trickle down her scalp then down her face. Enjoying the cooling sensation of the water bottle Panther had just given her, she closes her eyes and mulls over the events of the week that led up to this moment.

⋅•⦽•⋅

“I need to get better at taijutsu, Panther-San.”

A solitary amethyst eye blinks open as the ANBU agent peers at the pinkette from where he laid with his hands behind his head. What appeared to be either a very large, yellow squirrel or a small bushy-tailed golden racoon popped it’s head from the Shinobi’s deep green cloak. It’s beady eyes stared at Sakura and for a second, she felt as if the animal was assessing her.

“You need to get better at a lot of things, Haruno.”

The jab was concluded by the ANBU operative closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree once more. Sakura swore that she could hear high-pitched tittering from his cloak.

“Is that... a squirrel? ”

The laughter abruptly stopped, before the yellow-haired animal’s head popped out and glared daggers at the Genin below it. Sakura’s mouth gapes as the rodent starts talking, it’s bushy tail puffed up.

“How dare you compare me to those nut munching bastards, human!”

Panther sits up from his position in the tree, grumbling all the while the enraged rodent puffed up it’s cheeks and continued it’s tirade. Sakura was really regretting getting up from bed that day.

“Look at what you’ve gone and done now, Haruno.”

If Sakura were to be completely honest, she had absolutely no idea.

“I am Midori no Daichi, foolish human! This Midori hails from a long line of great and noble marmots who have served as retainers for many venerable Samurai! Please tell your student this, Shichi-Sama!”

“That's quite enough, Midori-Chan.”

The marmot squeaked and scurried back into her master’s cloak. Confused emerald eyes met violet as Panther sighed. His feet met the ground after a tight front-flip from the branch, landing with-in arms reach of Sakura.

“This is Midori, Haruno. She’s my animal summon.”

Sakura nodded mutely, she had come to that conclusion herself seconds after the rodent started speaking. Hesitating, she looked at the small lump the Shinobi had at the front of his cloak, then bowed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Midori-San. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you offense.”

The yellow tinged rodent appeared once more at the base of her masters neck, cheeks puffed up but tail noticeably less bristled.

“You are forgiven, wight. Never compare This Midori or This Midori’s folk to those scatterbrained fools again.”

When Sakura unfurled herself, her eyes met approving indigo ones.

“Wight?”

The Shinobi shrugged as the creature scurried to his left shoulder, bushy tail curling around the nape of his neck.

“It’s a rather...archaic way to say human. The Marmot’s have a great deal of respect for the old tradition.”

“My folk have served as retainers for the Master's family for centuries! as such, This Midori values decorum and honor!”

The porcelain masked man shifted, reaching into one of the pouches attached to his waist and pulling out a small satchel.

“Midori-Chan. You know the rules.”

Midori’s whiskers twitched as she hid her face in the junction between the Shinobi’s neck and shoulder.

“Y-Yes. Master! Please forgive This Midori for speaking out of turn! It shall not happen again!”

The ANBU sighs as he pats the rodent’s head and scratches at it’s ears.

“That’s okay, Midori-Chan. Please just refrain from speaking of my personal life while I am on duty. Here, go and sun yourself by the river for a while.”

He hands off the satchel to Midori, Sakura peers into the small bag to see that it’s filled to the brim with almonds. Squealing in delight, the Marmot grabs the bag and scurries off to the riverbank, presumably to find a patch of sunlight to warm herself. Her happy ‘Thank you, Master!’ floats through the wind as the two Shinobi are left alone in the clearing. Turning to face her, Panther speaks.

“So. Your Taijutsu is abysmal.”

Sakura felt her eye twitch.

“Well. I’m not sure I’d use that exact word, but yes, I believe it can be optimized for my fighting style.”

Panther tilts his head, the sunlight streaming in through the leaves making the polished stone of his mask glint.

“You mean to mix your Ninjutsu with Taijutsu?”

“Yes, along with some research I’ve been doing about Chakra Theory and manipulation.”

“Ah yes, that thing that you’ve been so secretive about. I’m fairly sure you’ve checked out every single book at the library about it. The Chuunin manning the library desks seem to think you’re trying to become one with the scrolls.”

Sakura snorts, but her hand subconsciously reaches down inside her pouch. The pads of her fingers feel the frayed edges of ‘Assessing Characteristics of Chakra in Nanoparticles of Elemental Ninjutsu, Medical Ninjutsu, Genjutsu and Kekkei Genkai: An Analysis By Senju Tobirama’ She winces internally at how that title would probably have her blond teammate dead asleep by the the first comma.

Many Shinobi thought Chakra to be a completed science, so to speak. Why bother researching it when you already know what it can do? When you can be spending time learning A- Rank Ninjutsu and Genjutsu? Shinobi clans had spent hundreds upon hundreds of years with their gift of Chakra and thought they had already wrung the well dry of all of it’s knowledge, choosing instead to stay where they were most comfortable and not pursue knowledge on something they perceived would be fruitless. But Sakura took one look at Chakra, and how it could be honed, weaponized, and she saw it for what it really was.

Revolutionary.

Ideas swirled in her head, how to maximize one’s Chakra reserves, how to execute techniques with the most precise amount of Chakra necessary. Perhaps even how to execute techniques without Chakra, at all. Each day spent scrutinizing a scroll, breaking it down and studiously assessing how the information could aid her in battle felt like a step closer in the right direction, like she was on the cusp of something huge but just had a few hurdles left to leap.

Sakura removed her hand from her pouch, clearing her mind as she looked straight up into violet eyes.

“Please, teach me what you know about Nintaijutsu.”

The two Shinobi stared at each other and for a split second, Sakura felt as if she had made a huge mistake. Misjudged how deep her friendship was with the ANBU operative. In that moment she became very aware that he didn’t owe her anything. Not the food or medicine he had given to her everytime she had collapsed from training all those months since their conversation a week after she stopped Sasuke’s defection. Not the scrolls he leant her about techniques that were above her rank. Not even the laughs he gave everytime she sassed her teammates or gave a sarcastic comment. For a second, she was back to square one, all self-loathing and fragile, insecure Sakura clawing its way to the surface as-

“I thought you were occasionally training with Gai and his team? I know that your taijutsu has advanced greatly since training with them. Uzumaki-San even picked up kenjutsu from that girl who gave him a sword.”

Sakura felt herself suddenly dragged out of her pit of resentment, surprised by the ANBU’s question.

“Tenten. That was Tenten. She taught Naruto how to use swords and gave him a Chokuto a week ago. I think that’s why he named it Cho-Cho, because it reminds him of Tentens name. I’m almost a hundred percent sure he has a crush on her-”

Sakura stopped herself before she could run her mouth off more than that. She shuffled awkwardly in the dirt as the Shinobi in front of her chortled with mirth.

“It’s okay, Haruno. People tend to tell me these things.”

There was a beat of silence, not enough for Sakura to mull over what the older Shinobi had just said before-

“How about Hatake-Senpai? As your Jounin sensei, you have a right to ask him to teach you about any supplementary skills you would like to learn.”

Sakura blinked. A right? It sure didn’t feel like she had a right to receive training when Kakashi-Sensei spent an entire month only training Sasuke for the Chunin exams, or set aside special training time and regimes for Sasuke until he ‘came back from medic training’. It didn’t feel like she, or any of her other teammates had the right whenever he blatantly disregarded them in favour of teaching Sasuke about the Sharingan, or how to to improve his evasion skill using said Sharingan.

The pinkette grit her teeth, hands clenching into tight fists as she fought off the sudden and almost overwhelming sense of resentment and hostility against her black-haired teammate and Kakashi. She had spent months training, waking up before the sun rose and only sleeping far, far after it had set. She had been doing so well, pushing against all odds and improving herself even as the spiteful voice in her head remained, reminding her of what she was up against, of what put her in this situation in the first place. Unclenching her jaw, she locked eyes with the older Shinobi.

“I don’t think you need to be an ANBU operative to figure out that Kakashi-Sensei doesn’t exactly give us the opportunity to try, Panther-San.”

There was silence as Panther regarded her. She wanted, desperately, to pull at a lock of her hair, at one of the fly-aways that crowned her head as the silence stretched.

“If you believe that Hatake-Senpai favours Uchiha-San, that he cares more about his training then yours,”

She stood stock still in front of the Shinobi, fighting to keep her breathing under control as the older Shinobi assessed her.

“You’re not wrong.”

For a moment, a sense of relief filled her. The validation, coming from someone that wasn’t the vitriolic voice in her head, felt like a drug. For a split second, she was high on the confirmation that someone agreed , that-

“However. Have you considered, Haruno, that perhaps you’re part of the problem, too?”

Sakura jolts in surprise and hurt. She tenses, fight or flight senses kicking in when her brain registers the disparaging comment. Her eyes narrow and she takes a step back, considering her options. Considering how fast she could leave the ANBU and his scorn. Before she manages to make any moment, there is a warm hand on her shoulder.

“To use your own words, Haruno, I’m sorry if I’ve caused you offense. I didn’t mean to imply that it was purely your fault, or that the Shinobi system hasn’t had a hand in limiting your opportunities in life.However, I believe this is something you need to hear.”

She swallows, and the liquid feels like cinder ash as it travels down her throat. Minutely, she relaxes though doesn’t adjust her feet, still ready to leave if need be. She continues to look at the ANBU in the eye, wary of what Panther had to say next.

“I, myself, find Hatake-Senpai’s methods to be distasteful. Overtly showing favouritism, choosing who gets attention while not providing any sense of structure or guidance for your other students, disregarding obvious talent in a civilian born Kunoichi in order to focus on one related to a special clan, all these examples are ridiculous notions. No Jounin sensei should ever be allowed to exhibit such behaviour without reprimand.”

Sakura’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her mind almost in shambles as she tries to piece together what the nin is telling her.

“I don’t unders-”

Panther’s gloved hand flies up, silently asking for her to let him continue. The pinkette’s mouth snaps shut, an eerie sense of compulsion telling her not to speak overcoming her.

“You have been more patient with him then I ever would have been, Haruno. Nevertheless, I believe it’s vital to your career as a Shinobi that you learn this lesson. As a Ninja, you will face constant peril. Conflict and pain will be the only constant in your life. You will encounter challenges both inside and outside the battlefield. Most of the time, the circumstances will be debilitating and entirely out of your control. The one thing that you can rely on, the one thing you have constant control over is yourself. Your mind set. How you choose to react to these situations, whether it's to overcome or to fall, will determine not only the type of Shinobi you are but the rest of your life,”

Panther stops, then. The mask and cloak hides most of his emotions, but if Sakura were to hazard a guess, she would say that it seemed like the Shinobi was hesitating, weighing out his next words carefully.

“From what I have observed over these past few months, you have improved significantly. And it’s undeniable that you’ve shown impressive determination to get there. You ask for my help now, but why not communicate these issues to Hatake-Senpai?”

“He’s never gone out of his way to help me! Am I supposed to come crawling to him for help!? “

Sakura feels the fury and bitterness heat up her skin, her face tingeing red as anger curls up in the pit of her stomach. Panther was suggesting talking to Kakashi as if he would ever give her the time of day! As if he would care to glance in her direction after a heart-to-heart while he overlooked her for nearly a year!

“Have you ever gone out of your way to speak to him? To show him how you feel about his lack of regard for your progress? Given him the chance to change? From what I understand, you weren’t exactly a stellar student during your first few months as a Genin, Haruno ”

“All I needed was a chance, Panther-San! A CHANCE! ”

“And you have it! Each day you get a little bit better, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Now you just have to convince Hatake-Senpai of the same thing.”

Sakura’s nails dig into her palms as she breaks eye contact, breath coming in quick bursts as she stares at the space between their feet. Her eyes fill up with enraged tears and she fights to keep them at bay. At her lack of a response, Panther releases a deep sigh, then takes his hand off her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, Sakura sees him lower his hood and run his hand through tousled black locks.

“Listen, Haruno. Your anger is valid. Hatake Kakashi is a terrible teacher. I know it, he knows it, everyone on this side of the continent probably knows it, too. What you’ve had to go through is unfair and frankly, ridiculous. But if you’re waiting for some magical moment, for him to wake up one day and realize that he’s been unfair to his students, to you, well, you’ll be waiting for a very long time. So take it into your own hands and show him why he shouldn’t underestimate you. These inter-team problems, these strained relationships, they destroy teams in the field. Don’t let this destroy yours.”

Sakura exhales, eyes closing as she releases the air from her lungs in an attempt to stay calm. Her anger deflated, replaced by a bone deep exhaustion and resigned acceptance. Panther was harsh, but even through the hazy fog of resentment clouding her judgement, his logic seemed sound. Sakura turned to leave.

“I understand, Panther-San. I will do my best to consider your words.”

The masked nin appeared in front of her before she could go, hands on his hips.

“Oi. Pinky, I never said I wouldn’t teach you.”

Sakura stared into the slits of his mask, aghast.

“D-Did you just say you want to teach me!?”

“I mean, somebody has to, clearly. Luckily for you, I’ve been told I’m pretty decent at Nintaijutsu! Got it from my uncle. Very nice man.”

The Genin continued to stare at the older Shinobi, finding no words.

“Y-You mean, you had that entire monologue about fixing my relationship with my sensei, just to tell me at the end that you’re okay with teaching me!?”

All she got from the insufferable ninja was a shrug. Not even a full one, either, just a half shrug.

“Eh, I can be a tad dramatic sometimes”

And just like that, the tense atmosphere between the two cleared as both burst out in laughter. Later that night, Sakura would contemplate their conversation, pick apart every little detail and weigh each piece of advice she was given very carefully. But for now, she spent the afternoon planning out a training schedule with Panther and Midori, and Sakura’s heart had never felt lighter. Maybe it was because of the fact that for once, someone actually believed in her, in what she could become. Or maybe, it was what Panther said when she was about to leave for home.

“Hey, Haruno? About that insecurity complex you have going on-”

“I do not have an insecurity complex! I just don’t like it when people underestimate me! Stop ruffling my hair!”

“By the time we’re done, your enemies will only get to underestimate you once.”

⋅•⦽•⋅