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“I’m sorry, Haruno-san. Your husband was killed in action”.
From the corner of her eye, Sakura saw her mother fall to the ground with a shriek, and the piercing cry that erupted from her mouth snapped Sakura out of her spiral. Her view moved to the Chuunin leaving from the still-open front door.
Sakura’s eyes widened with horror. It felt as if the world itself collapsed around her. There was a feeling of falling sharply, and instantly, her legs gave out from underneath her. A faraway sensation of trembling caused her to look down at her hands absentmindedly. ‘Oh’, she thought, ‘that’s me’. Sakura knew the words that came from his mouth-she understood- but at the same time, she could not bring herself to comprehend the meaning.
Papa was…killed? On a mission? But that’s impossible. Her papa is the bravest, strongest shinobi that she knows. He can lift both her and Mama without breaking a sweat. He can stay up later than her, although she goes to bed at nine, so she isn’t really sure what time he really goes to sleep. He’s always patient, even when Sakura messes up during training or can’t concentrate on his lessons.
Papa…he has the brightest smile that lights up a room and gives Sakura a warm feeling in her heart that makes her want to smile too. And Mama, too; even though she never smiles at her, Sakura thinks she looks prettiest when Mama and Papa smile together. There’s just...no way…right?
But…if it’s true?
Sakura took a moment to glance at her mother, who was still slumped on the ground, her eyes blank but her body trembling, mirroring Sakura’s state. ‘If it’s true…then Mama wouldn’t look like the world was falling apart’, she thought.
It was as if time slowed as she moved. Mama’s head was bowed, her ink-like hair covering masking every part of her face, enough so that Sakura could not read her expression. It was quick, like a flash. One moment her arms were stretched out, waiting to envelop her Mama, and the next, she was lying on the ground.
The air in the small hallway grew thick with tension. Her cheek throbbed, and a bright red handprint appeared on her arm, the same one she reached out with. Mama’s expression was blank, and although she looked right at Sakura, it felt like she was being seen through.
“Mama?” Sakura whispered, her eyes large and round with tears, “It’s going to be okay, Mama, see?”. She carefully stood up and faced her mother. “Papa’s gone, but at least we still have each other.” Mama’s face turned ugly with contempt as she stared down at her daughter.
“Is that all you can say?” she asked. “My husband is DEAD, and that’s all you can say!?” Mama’s tone grew louder and louder as she slowly approached where Sakura was standing. “You don’t even care that he’s dead. Look at you; you’re not even crying!” Her figure slumped slightly as she glared down at Sakura. . . .
Sakura wants to be a kunoichi. She wants it more than anything in the world. That’s why she knows- albeit vaguely- about what can happen to a shinobi on the field. Papa’s told her stories about some of his missions. About the joy and satisfaction of a successfully completed mission. About the violence and death that can come from a mission gone wrong. About laughter and peace because although her Papa was a shinobi, he was so gentle.
Sakura wants to be like her Papa. She wants to be strong-the strongest. She wants to feel the rush of satisfaction that comes from getting stronger, from fighting and winning. She wants to climb the ranks and show Konoha that even though she is a girl -even though she is clanless- she can beat anyone who stands in her way. She wants to come home from a mission and see her parent’s faces and smile because she knows she is strong enough to come back to them.
Sakura wants to be just like her Mama. She wants to be graceful, just like her. She wants to spin and twirl and dance the way Mama does when she dances -performs- for Papa. She hopes that if she becomes good enough, Mama will smile at her the way she smiles at everyone else except for her.
Sakura wants. She wants to be a kunoichi. She wants to dance. She wants to be kind, and strong, and gentle, and powerful.
She wants. Desperately.
But Sakura knows that something is wrong with the way Mama looks at her. She’s always known. She wants to be strong, but it’s so hard to be while Mama towers over her with a look of hatred on her face. There’s a decision to be made here, Sakura thinks. Although she is young, she knows that whatever choice she makes will have consequences.
.
.
.
‘Kunoichi are strong,’ she decides. ‘So I have to be strong too’.
With this in mind, Sakura wipes away the tears she only now realizes she shed. She tries her best to force her body’s tremors away, stands up, and slowly walks away.
.
.
.
Sakura is eight when her father leaves for a mission and never comes back.
She is also eight when she learns that the only person she can depend on is herself.
Prologue End