Chapter Text
A waste dump. Konoha's stinky, infectious, vast waste dump. The one place Sakura knew nobody came looking for her, would find her.
Her lower body felt numb. The burning pain caused by the forced dilation and her cramps were sufficiently dulled. She would prefer it if such could be said about the sticky feeling and taste left over by sperm. Maybe by sunset, having dinner with her parents with always the same false smile on her face, the feeling of rot in her mouth would go away. And then she might be able to forget, to simulate happiness.
She hated herself for her pink hair. Danzou-sama called her Pinky when he had her in his chambers. And Pinky was also the name she had to carry while in the brothel's backroom. And if she weren't so cute, she would be safe.
The alcove she was sitting in offered protection from the glaring sun. The smell was nearly bad enough that she could forget about the taste on her tongue. The ground she was sitting on was alive. Flies, cockroaches, and maggots shared their food; centipedes were on the hunt – all those creatures free from cuteness, free of creepy men and women, and free of shame. They were not being called a liar, a bad girl for not being properly thankful towards Elder Danzou, who was supporting the family. Who was invested in her training to join the Academy. For her to bring wealth and reputation to the family as a kunoichi. Seduction not named as her intended field of work.
If she could become strong, could house insects in her body like the Aburame, or could punch people to pulp, they would not want her. She would not make money. Or maybe she would, but not by being touched.
Still too young to not dream of miracles, to deny herself the possibility of make-beliefs, she again tries to convince a strong hunter, a centipede, to find shelter in her hair. Not that she had not been bitten before, not been left with the swelling of their poisons before. Just there was no way to lose hope. She was not yet ready to die. And while this was unspoken even in her mind, she felt the truth of that assumption.
Maybe she would bleed out at the hands of a rough customer like Aiko and Honoka, and come free like that. Though, she was coming out of that age. Death by customer was more likely for toddlers than for her at the age of five. In the end, she left her shelter in the dump. Hungry and in need to get washed before her parents got home from work.
xxx
She's not found worthy of ROOT. She shall not become an agent. She is good at leaf sticking. Nothing else was going for her. Boys who were good with chakra control get in. Girls with gekkai genkai, too. Civilian girls are for making money on their backs. A black operations militia needs funding off the books. Still, she is in good moods. She will join the academy at the age of five. She is in love with books. Escaping reality through picture books at the age of three and first written ones a year later, she is said to be ready. And Danzou-sama claims he wants her trained in subterfuge. She is told to copy and act like the other students, and so she does.
She does so well enough. There are no clan heirs in her class. No prodigies. She does her homework, trains thoroughly, and dreams of strength. She dares not to aim to become the Top Kunoichi, since her orders are to imitate others. What she can do is score second in thaijutsu. And to be then denied food, for her muscles not being cute.
She finds a passage about training in a book in the library. Training towards speed and endurance is said not to show in a bulky frame. She does that. After three months, her being unhealthy thin has her plate sufficiently filled with food again.
There are no friends. After school, there is the brothel. At night, there is homework, and throughout the night she has bad dreams. This is nothing she is not used to, as far as she can remember. There is no room for play dates outside class, so it is on her to act as a polite and handsome girl in school. Lending out homework for others to copy. Placing poisonous centipedes in the bags of those who bully her, though she only did it once, and no one believed it was her.
She passed first year and was half into second, when finally a customer did rip something and she bled light red arterial blood, stream coming in pulses. The matron did call her Root contact. And she did persist until a lady came and healed her, with a green glow to her hand. After this, she did not dare to hide in the dump for sanitary reasons. She decided to go to the woods. Her face white like unmarked porcelain, she told the guards she was out for herbs. She settled in the bush by a clearing. Catching breath, she felt her pants get soaked. A wave of panic hit, but washed over her. Leaving her confident. She had had enough, tried hard enough, had endured enough. She settled and closed her eyes, expecting to come free finally.
xxx
She woke to a hospital room, to face the dire reality that, in the end, she did not come free. There were no greeting cards. No one brought homework or copies of the classwork. Her parents came twice a week. Unhappy, because Root had told them the injury was self-inflicted. She did not argue. The parents were convinced that her less-than-stellar sleep schedule, bad smell from the dump, and any other problem were her being difficult. When she had asked why they had cut her food rations, it was because, otherwise, she would become fat.
Some entertainment was provided by the military police, who performed a mild interrogation. So obviously, she had been raped while she was out in the woods collecting herbs. They found traces of an unknown chakra, weird chakra. Sakura claimed genjutsu, feeling sluggish and tired, and then nothing. The Uchiha was less than pacified, given a pedophiliac Shinobi of unknown heritage was raping a six-year-old. A pervert, who had added acid to remove his trace, though the girl would not yet know. Haruno Sakura was anything but able to help him catch the man.
When he left the room, there was a wry smile on her lips. The Uchiha did not care about the brothel where it happened, although that was an official establishment. They did not advertise their underage prostitutes, although they proudly said they entertained all kinks. The teens there had told her that prostitutes like themselves were neither citizens nor children. To Sakura, this was something they had in common with ROOT agents. So it shouldn't make her feel worthless, though it constantly did.
The stay at the hospital wasn't too bad. Six beds in one room, where she was the youngest occupant, who was always offered dessert and sweets. The painkillers made it easy to forget the potential consequences of gaining weight. Still, her stay ended in angry words and coldness, anything but addressing her gained calories.
Under the dressings, once the catheter was painfully removed, there was badly scarred tissue from her navel down to half her thighs. If that hadn't been enough damage to her worth, the elderly medic addressed her being marred, whatever that meant. And that's where her mother totally lost it, screeching and nearly attacking the medic. Though once she calmed, she went cold. Not the cold Sakura knew just meant her mother would not care. This specific version of her mother being cold promised no food, no touch, and no word spoken to her. For the foreseeable future.
Given her age, she did not exactly care for being marred, or whatever that meant. No food was of far more concern. And the medic, doing her best to convey she had survived, had healed well and was ready to join the Academy in a week, anyone should be thankful and glad for the outcome of a severe injury and challenging treatment, did not help the young girl and future kunoichi.
Whether she wanted to or not, she was taken home. Danzo-sama seemed not to be deterred by scars at all. To the brothel, she would not be sent from now on. With her further improving results in her chakra-control trainings, there would be use for her as a medic, and if not, in the Gennin Corps – simple as that.
It took Sakura a month before she had restructured her routine. Since the rape in the woods had made it to the public, she had trouble readjusting to class. Whispers behind her back, she had followed the man into the woods by free will for money. One look at her shabby dress would prove so. There was no beating or physical bullying, apart from boys two grades up who offered a bento for her to undress and spread her legs. Declining the offer ended in a torn-off ear for one of the boys and additional scars for her, a cut above her left eyebrow visible for all in class to see.
On her nutrition front, she had gained a total win. The Abes, him being one of her roommates back in the hospital, had kept on offering food. Running a butchery, with no helping hands by being childless, they had all but adopted the quirly girl, pleased when she sneaked into the workflow to do some cleaning and occasionally fetch small things. Despite her offering to do harder work, showing off her chakra-enhanced strength, neither Maki nor his wife Aiko would let her. To become a shinobi was bad enough for a girl. And they would not have her act like one at age six.
Her home routine had settled in a way that felt strange. There were no words exchanged, no meals shared. She trained hard to succeed in wall walking, so she had a second entrance option. Haruno Mebuki still took care of her laundry and placed it, now clean, on her bed. Sakura could use the bathroom and the shower, although she preferred the one at the Abes.
Elder Danzo had her share his chambers occasionally, a routine she was used to. Her recess time was spent next to a training ground, no traces of stench there to repel the Abes or the customers. She loved the leaves and dirt filled with life, too. Her colorful centipede, which nested behind her ear, was back. He had fled the medics and had not shared her time in hospital.
xxx
Aburame Haku became her first friend. Her being boyish allowed for games with marbles and something close to sparring. Measuring strength was fun. They wanted to have her centipede become friends with Haku's fireflies, though it did not go well for the flies. But the Aburame had kind of expected the outcome.
She was kind of prepared for the friendship to fail. They always did, since other children being friendly had never lasted. Though when Haku acted reluctant to share bento boxes, her's with plenty of meat from the butchery, she found herself being talked to.
"My mother said you were marred, so you housing a centipede doesn't matter. She said you were bad news."
They shared a glance over the untouched boxes. Sakura felt her throat go tight. It took all her bravery to speak to her only friend. "What does me not becoming a mother has to do with this? I'm still going to be a kunoichi."
He looked like he had bitten into a lemon. Nonetheless, the eight-year-old boy answered her question. "You are civilian-born. You will either join the Corps or work in the hospital, but not be part of a team and be taught by a Jounin Sensei. My family says, I shall befriend either those who become real shinobi, or girls that do not mind our hives. You know, the clan needs outsiders to marry into it, to have healthy children."
It took Sakura a while to place all the words with a meaning. Then she stood up, took her bento, and left the Academy while the classes weren't done yet. She went for the butchery, to the only place where she was wanted.
It took three days until a masked agent fetched her to be confronted by Shimura Danzou, in his chambers, a sadistic smile on his lips paired with a smirk.
"So a marred and scarred kunoichi decides not to become strong? You need help with your motivation, and I offer what you asked for. Though know the weak have to suffer and perish."
He toyed with a kunai, cutting open what had previously scarred. Talking about the futility for the weak to close their wounds. He added chili to the cuts. For the weak to feel pain was the natural way of life. When he grabbed her throat, a tiny, colorful thing slipped under his sleeves. When he said, the weak had no need for air, because their words had no one who would listen, his face twitched.