Chapter Text
My name is Sakura Haruno, and I was raised to fight and die for a cause I didn’t understand. At least, I couldn’t at the time.
My parents were apathetic. I don’t remember much about them. They were ninja, born and raised in the Hidden Leaf Village I called home. I remember they’d take care of me as I was growing up in shifts. My mother looked after me when my father was on missions and vice versa.
While I was growing up, I idolized the ninja that protected my home.
When I was twelve years old, I was assigned to my own squad to do missions under my teacher, Kakashi. Even thinking about that time twists my stomach.
I was head over heels in love with a boy named Sasuke and obsessively hateful of another named Naruto. I must have picked it up somewhere. In retrospect, none of what I hated about him was Naruto’s fault.
Our first lesson under Kakashi was disguised as a test of teamwork. In retrospect, I consider it a preparation for the Hell we’d been born into without even realizing it.
Up until that point I’d consider myself coddled. In the sense that my physical needs were met, at the very least.
You don’t get that same kind of treatment once you’re a ninja.
They have to get you involved young so you never ask any questions. This way, it’s all you’ve ever known.
But that first day our teacher taught us to be willing to die or kill for each other. That above all else, we had to be prepared to lose each other. He told us about his fallen teammates. Not in depth, but enough for a pit of dread to replace that confidence usually held by a kid that age.
We didn’t deserve that.
Obviously I wouldn’t have understood what was wrong with this at the time, though. When you’re a little girl, it makes sense to want to fit in. To excel at what society expects from you.
It wasn’t long before the reality of the life I’d been born into started to really set in. When our missions spiked in difficulty. When there were times I thought for certain I wouldn’t make it out alive. The fact that I survived circumstances I thought I wouldn’t was a blessing and a curse.
I can still see the memory of Naruto stabbing his hand in my mind sometimes. Of my teacher drowning. Of Sasuke’s body punctured with dozens of needles.
That’s nothing, though.
At the Chunin exams I met another boy my age named Lee. Lee was an incredible ninja, and he was energetic like his teacher.
I saw Gaara of the sand crush his limbs until his bones were dust. There are times I'll hear distant yelling and it's all I can think of. The sound of crunching and blood curdling screams.
Lee never recovered after that.
Following the exams, he was in physical therapy for months. The whole time, he was heartbroken. Trying to get out of his room to train despite knowing he'd never be able to fight again.
I think it was then, visiting Lee in the hospital, I realized we were weapons.
Weapons made for the purpose of war. Trained up as children so it was all we'd ever known. Fighting against the classmates we'd known all our lives.
It wasn't just Lee, either. Hinata fought against her own elder cousin, Neji.
To this day I'm certain he intended to kill her.
I had to fight Ino. The only friend I'd ever known. A friend I'd since lost to pursue Sasuke.
I was 14 years old when Sasuke left the village to find his brother. 15 when Naruto left the village to train. All I had then were my mentors.
It wasn't until I was 17 that Naruto returned. I was tasked to rejoin a team with him and Kakashi for a mission. Like we used to do as kids.
It would be a lie to say things were quieter without Sasuke. It would be a lie to say I felt my heart was empty without him. We'd been apart for years.
Maybe I just wasn't a little girl anymore.
I ran away during the mission to rescue Gaara. He'd since become that Kazekage, leader of his village. That prick.
It was that night, camping in the wilderness, that I took advantage of the first chance I had to escape. I picked a random direction, any direction, and I fled.
I didn't look behind me when I left. If Naruto or Kakashi were following me, I would have heard them. Despite knowing that, I still tried to avoid making any noise.
Overhead, I heard beating wings.