SSMonth15: Day 9
Title: We Are Broken Summary: Kakashi’s team had been killed. Naruto’s parents had died. Sasuke’s family had been murdered. The ninja world was full of trauma. It was finding the little piece of light to pull you through it that was important. Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto. But Kishi fuckin’ owned that shit. Prompt: Trauma from day nine of the SasuSakuMonth Prompts. Rating: T Words: 2,771 Date Completed: 8/2/15 Warning(s): mentions of murder, abandonment Author’s Note: This didn’t turn out exactly as I wanted it to, I don’t think the theme came across as easily as I had hoped—I think it actually feels a bit forced. Still! This is my first time using an outside view to look at Sakura’s relationship with Sasuke, and I think it went decently.
“You don’t know anything about him!”
Kakashi’s head swiveled in the direction of his female student’s voice as the book in his hand closed with a snap. He was scheduled to leave with Sasuke in an hour, and he had hoped to use that time relaxing with his favorite Ichi Ichi book. Fate had other ideas, however, as it usually did, and Kakashi wandered to the point on the roof that was closest to where he had heard Sakura. Even though it was unlikely that she was in danger, some part of him still needed to be there—to back her up should she need it.
When he peeked over the edge of the roof, it didn’t seem like she needed backing up. Talking her down would probably be best, actually.
Tiny hands clenched into fists as Sakura glared at the two older women in front of her. They were civilians—their movements lacked the fluid grace of kunoichi and their chakra signatures were basically nonexistent. Still, Sakura, little Sakura, glared them down as if they were her number one targets. Bruises and shallow cuts still covered her skin from whatever had happened to her in the Forest of Death, and her pink hair fell roughly around her face—it was evident that Sakura’s haircut had not been planned. Add in the bandage on her cheek that she had earned from her fight with Ino, and Sakura definitely looked the part of a small hellion.
He was so proud.
“You have no right to talk about Naruto like that,” she seethed through clenched teeth. The malice in her words caused the pair to flinch back, despite the fact that the words were coming from a child at least half their age. One of Sakura’s hands hovered over her kunai pouch, and if the women hadn’t been civilians, Kakashi had no doubt she would have leapt at them by now. Judging by the way the women carefully edged away from the angry girl, they seemed to know it too.
As for himself, Kakashi was stunned silent. The instant he’d heard the amount of venom and protectiveness concealed in her voice, he’d immediately assumed that Sakura was talking about Sasuke. The pink haired genin rarely had anything but insults for her obnoxious teammate, but obviously something had changed.
One of the women wrinkled her nose at Sakura and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t attempt to close the distance between them at all.
“You’re only talking like that because you don’t know what he is. You’re too young to understand what he’s done to this village,” she declared, curling her lip imperiously. “If you had any clue what your beloved teammate did to the Yondaime, you’d be singing a different tune, young lady. I would respect your elders if I were you.”
A deep anger simmered to life within Kakashi. Twelve years later, and Naruto was still getting the blame for something he had no choice in. There were much larger forces at work, and his sensei’s son had received far too much scorn for being a helpless pawn in the larger scheme. Kakashi had spent his time being resentful for the loss of his teacher, but this was too much. This was pure, undeserved hatred projected onto a boy that would bear the world’s burdens on his shoulders with a sunny grin.
And Sakura had no way to combat such an ugly emotion, especially since she had no idea where it was coming from.
“I’m smarter than you think,” Sakura countered, much to Kakashi and the women’s’ surprise. “You’re idiots if you blame Naruto for something that happened before he was even a day old. He’s done nothing but try hard to protect this village, and that’s more than you will ever be able to claim.”
With that, Sakura haughtily spun around on her heel and stalked away from the shell-shocked women. She had only gone a couple steps when she turned around once more, startling a jump out of the women cowering just under the roof’s corner.
“And if I ever hear that you were badmouthing Naruto again,” Sakura snarled, her mint green eyes hardening to emerald, “You’ll have to deal with me.”
Kakashi had made ANBU at the age of thirteen and survived the Third Great Ninja War, but the rage in Sakura’s tone still forced a chill down his spine. The women scurried away the moment Sakura turned her back on them once more.
She’s twelve! Kakashi wanted to scream at their retreating figures. Twelve and she has more sense than this whole village put together!
If he had been proud about her intimidating form earlier, it was nothing compared to the delight rushing through him now.
Naruto, the little boy who had been picked on and spat at and shunned since before he could walk, had gained a true friend. The blonde had borne his share of hardships, and Kakashi didn’t think he’d ever really been allowed to grieve and accept the trauma of losing both his parents immediately after his birth. Instead, the village just piled scorn and anguish upon the young boy, daring him to keep moving forward in the face of their disdain.
Which he had. His head held high, even as the shadow of loneliness clung to his every step, Naruto continued determinedly on his path.
But now, Naruto had another friend who would brace him if he stumbled. Another friend who was willing to offer him the light of her companionship in his world of desertion. Someone who would treat him as a real person instead of a monster—or even worship him as a living monument to his father.
And with every bit of praise, or even her abrasive nagging, Sakura was slowly restoring Naruto’s self-confidence.
---x---
There was something different about his team as they limped out of the Forest of Death.
Upon entering the chunin exams, Kakashi often thought of his genins as three separate entities. There was Sasuke; he was struggling with resentment and anger and dealing with it in all the wrong ways. Over there was Naruto; he seemed bright and perpetually optimistic, but inside years of abandonment and cold disinterest were tearing him down. And off to the side was Sakura; she was bright but channeled all of her focus into winning Sasuke’s attention instead of training to be a better kunoichi.
In his mind, they were never Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura.
Now, however, the thee-man squad seemed to have finally understood the first lesson he tried to teach them: teamwork.
It had been a tough five days in the Forest of Death, as Kakashi knew it would be, and his team was looking a little worse for the wear. Both Naruto and Sasuke had their arms flung across Sakura’s shoulders, and Team 7’s only female helped her teammates slowly up the stairs to their rooms to recuperate before the third stage began. Kakashi had heard Orochimaru had made a surprise appearance, the damn snake, and it seemed both boys had taken a beating.
Closer inspection showed Sakura wasn’t in perfect condition either, which slightly surprised the jonin. Time and time again, Naruto and Sasuke had proved that they would prioritize Sakura’s safety above their own without a moment’s hesitation. The sheer number of injuries Sakura was sporting proved things had gotten pretty dicey.
Still, though, there was something beautiful about the hobbling trio. Their movements were entirely synced to ensure no member had to put weight on their injured leg for a second longer than necessary. Actually, they seemed more cognizant of each other’s wounds than their own. They were a team, finally.
Eventually the group closed in on their rooms, and Naruto reluctantly left his teammates. Despite the fact that he was leaning rather heavily on his doorframe, his hand lingered on Sakura’s lower back and his brow was furrowed in worry.
Even from several paces behind, Kakashi could hear the sarcastic tone of the last Uchiha, but the words lacked their usual bite. He watched, amazed, as Naruto expression cleared and he jabbed his finger in Sasuke’s direction, declaring that he’d better be ready to get his ass kicked in the next round before disappearing behind his door.
Friendly banter. His team was exchanging friendly banter.
After rolling her head slightly—was that motion part of an eye roll?—Sakura lightly bumped Sasuke’s hip with her own. There was a low chuckle followed by Sakura’s high pitched giggle before the pair continued on their way to his room.
Was, was Sakura teasing Sasuke?—and he was laughing? What exactly had happened in that forest? Getting Sasuke to grin was nothing short of a miracle. Kakashi doubted he had done so more than five times in the five years since his family’s slaughter. Losing family was one thing; as the White Fang’s son, Kakashi knew only too well how bitter that loss was. But losing his entire clan to his brother was nothing short of traumatizing, and the last Uchiha showed it more than he would probably like.
Sasuke had shrouded himself in thoughts of vengeance and a lust for power, and it was this blood-thirsty visage the boy preferred to front. There was still a lightness inside him, but it only showed through in rare interactions with his teammates. This side never made an appearance for long, as Sasuke seemed determine to lock that part of himself up—determined not to open himself to any more pain.
But Sakura had managed to draw it out.
They were half way between Sakura and Sasuke’s room when the bouy lifted his arm from Sakura shoulder. Kakashi could hear Sakura’s squeak of protest even from where he stood, and he saw her turn to argue with him, gesturing wildly at his neck. Sasuke simply shook his head and took another step back from the girl, pointing to Sakura’s ankle and then behind them to her room. His meaning was clear: Sakura was injured as well, so it would be best for them to part ways when they were equally far from their destinations.
Sakura was having none of that, apparently, and she reached out to catch Sasuke’s hand before he was too far away. Instead of pulling away as Kakashi expected him to, Sasuke allowed her to keep ahold of him as she ranted at him tearfully. If he strained he could probably hear them, but something about this moment seemed intimate, and Kakashi wanted to leave them be even if he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.
Suddenly, the unbelievable happened. Sasuke tightened his grip on Sakura’s hand briefly, just as one would do to comfort a friend, before smiling tenderly at her. The way his obsidian eyes softened for her was clear even from the side view Kakashi had, and suddenly the jonin’s feet were moving, taking him away from this private exchange and out of sight.
Somehow, Sakura had managed to shed a little light on the self-proclaimed avenger of Team 7. Kakashi wasn’t sure anything would penetrate past Sasuke’s cloak of malice and bloodlust, but he had placed his bets on Naruto before anything else. He’d completely underestimated the dedication Sakura had to tearing down Sasuke’s destructive walls.
And little by little, Sakura was chipping away the hurt and grief from Sasuke’s broken heart.
---x---
Pink is such an odd color for a ninja’s hair, Kakashi reflected, blinking down at the small girl offering him a red handkerchief. Shinobi were renowned of their unusual, and somewhat exotic, appearances, true. Kakashi himself had claimed snow white hair since his birth, and he knew of a purple haired kunoichi within ANBU’s ranks.
Still, the moment Kakashi had laid eyes on Sakura’s petal pink hair, he thought something was off. Pink was too innocent a color to be stained by the blood of their work. It was a soft color, innocent. Not daring and bold like purple, wise and experienced like white, or energetic and boundless like orange. Pink, especially Sakura’s shade, was too kind. Too nurturing to last long in their world.
He had been partly right. Sakura was innocent. Kindness radiated off of her in gentle waves, and she had spent the better part of her time nurturing the boys on her team and healing the pains and aches the kept close to their hearts. Yes, Sakura was soft. It was in her words and her expressions and even in her stance. But Kakashi had overlooked one of Sakura’s great talents: to persevere and endure like her namesake withstood the harsh snows of winter.
As if determined to highlight his mistake, Konoha’s morning sun pooled around them, and the soft light reflected off the girl’s short strands to create a halo around her head. Team 7’s personal angel.
“Tsunade-shishou taught me how to make these creams yesterday. The purple one helps bruises heal faster, the green one fights infection, and the red one should stimulate your skin to reattach quicker and not scar as much,” Sakura explained as Kakashi unwrapped the handkerchief to reveal three small bottles. “There’s not a lot, but Tsunade-shishou said I extracted the essence of the herbs more successfully than any of her students, so it should be pretty powerful.”
Not even a week had passed since Sakura began her tutelage under Tsunade, and already the girl was surpassing everyone’s expectations. Shame struck him at the same time that pride welled within his chest. He had been so absorbed in Sasuke and Naruto and the baggage they carried that he had neglected his female student. He’d failed her as a teacher, and ignored her potential in favor of nurturing her teammates’.
Despite this, Sakura had continued to hold him in high regard. It should have been obvious what she’d been missing now that Tsunade was guiding her, but Sakura refused to drop the “sensei” from his name. Even further, she was still concerned with his well-being; she still kept track of his mission schedule and thought to give him gifts aimed at bringing him home safe.
“I knew you’d do well under Tsunade-sama, Sakura,” Kakashi complimented her, ruffling her hair. “Thank you.”
The young girl smiled happily at him, but Kakashi saw the sadness that tinged her gaze. Dark circles marred her otherwise vibrant green eyes, and the smile she gave him seemed tighter than usual. Sasuke’s defection was weighing heavily on her.
“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said solemnly, before silently adding: for everything. It seemed all the men of Team 7 been able to do was take, take from the light Sakura freely gifted to them without giving anything in return. They were the product of war—broken and traumatized shells of who they could have been. So when Sakura dedicated herself to them, to their individual happiness, they basked greedily in the light she gave them.
Naruto had received a good friend from Sakura and a shoulder to lean on. Kakashi had been given a ghost of his past. Rin was gone, but something in Sakura’s bright smiles made her loss a little easier to deal with every day. She worried about him just as Rin had, fretted over him before missions despite the fact that he was thirteen years her senior. Sakura was another of Kakashi’s precious comrades.
To Sasuke, though, to Sasuke Sakura had probably given the most. She’d held nothing back from the boy, offered every bit of herself to offer in his healing if he would have it. Although he’d started to reach for her outstretched hand, the reminder of his powerlessness had caused him to snatch it back.
For so long Sakura had gone unscathed; she’d been the one whole person in their team. It hurt to know that both he and Naruto had been helpless to shield her from her first experience with the bitter sting of loss.
“There was nothing you could do, Kakashi-sensei. Nothing anyone could do, really,” Sakura told him dully, her lips a poor mockery of a smile. The dim expression she wore hurt Kakashi like a blow, but, like Sakura had told him, there was nothing anyone could do anymore.
“We’ll get him back, though,” she assured him, her fists clenching in determination, “All of us together this time.”
“We will,” Kakashi agreed after a pause. Even though her heart was obviously wounded, Sakura was standing tall.
Perhaps the softness of pink was best suited to endure the trauma that went hand in hand with shinobi life.
Kakashi could only think that Sasuke would be worse off without her gentle influence in his life.
