Chapter 7
The sun is harsh on her back and Sakura grunts as she feels a drop of sweat travel down her spine.
Her instructor scowls. “It’s been a week, kaijin, since you’ve picked up a kunai. Why haven’t you been practicing?”
Sakura glares. She wishes she could light the man on fire, smiling as his skin sizzled off his bones. He’d be prettier then too; the scars on his face and neck making him look like a barren scarecrow.
“Kaijin is not my name.” Sakura growls, her fists clenched in tight angry balls. “Learn it.”
The instructor scoffs. “When you can throw thirty kunai in the space of two minutes, I’ll bother with learning your name.”
The sun beats down on her brow and Sakura wonders just what on earth she has done to deserve this sort of treatment from the village.