Cherry Blossom Daydream: A Step In The Right Direction

[A Step In The Right Direction]

“What are you doing, Sakura-chan?”

Pink hair drifted across my vision as I leaned back to look at Naruto over the rim of my book. The boy's upside-down face held a quizzical expression as he stared up at me with wide blue eyes. I grinned at him as best as I could with the blood rushing to my head.

“I'm studying, Naruto,” I said, shaking the book on chakra physics that I had clutched in my hand. It was a bit hard to angle it so that he could read it, mostly because I was dangling about twenty feet or so off of the ground, hanging from a tree branch by the insides of my knees.

Naruto was bewildered by my words. “Why the heck would you want to do that? We're ninjas now; we don't have to do all that boring crap anymore!”

He seemed almost scandalized by the fact that I'd chosen to keep learning outside of the Academy. The old me would have been annoyed at his line of thought and might have even called him stupid for thinking it, but now I knew better. Naruto's circumstances simply didn't really offer him the chance to learn how to enjoy studying, or even really better himself outside of learning how to hit things harder. It wasn't his fault.

“Just because we're ninja now doesn't mean that we know everything,” I attempted to educate him. “We're still basically Academy students as far as the real world is concerned. We don't know any jutsu outside of the big three and if we don't work on the basics, we probably never will. Chakra theory is important to improve your control and other stuff like that. That's why I'm reading this book.”

As I spoke, a leaf drifted from underneath my dress, fluttering down to the ground in lazy spirals. I eyed it in annoyance, tightening my control on my chakra to keep the other ten stuck to my skin. It was hard to maintain concentration on the exercise while talking to someone, but this was important for improving my chakra control, just like the book in my hand.

Naruto just scratched the back of his head. “Eh, I'm not good at books and stuff. I'll just figure it out as I go!”

I would have said something about that, but I knew for a fact that method would work out perfectly for him, at least in the short term, so I kept my mouth shut and tried to return to my book. Though it was mostly regurgitating stuff I already knew, there was a small section on the application of the spiritual side of chakra as it pertained to illusion crafting, which definitely piqued my interest.

Naruto, on the other hand, was clearly growing bored. He looked around and sighed loudly, falling back into the grass. “Ugh! Where are they? Don't tell me Kakashi-sensei rubbed off on that bastard and made him late too.”

“They'll probably be here in a few minutes, Naruto,” I said distractedly as I flipped a page. “Why don't you just spar with your clones to pass the time. Or better yet, you could join me. I've got an extra book if you want to brush up on the basics.”

Naruto immediately shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Hey! We should ditch and go get ramen or something!”

“Naruto.”

“Come on, Sakura-chan!” he whined, sitting up. “They could take hours to get here! You know how Sensei is!”

“Perfectly on time, as always?” A voice piped up right beside his head. I giggled as Naruto went stock-still before suddenly jolting upward, looking horrified.

“Ah!” Naruto leapt back. He held his hands out in a warding gesture, before blinking as he noticed who had been the one to scare him. Then, he scowled. “Oi! What was that for, Sensei!? You scared the hell out of me!”

Kakashi simply hummed, straightening to his full height with a lackadaisical shrug. “A proper shinobi should always be aware of his surroundings, Naruto. If you couldn’t hear me coming, then maybe you should start taking up Sakura’s offer of studying.”

Naruto scowled and I tilted my head as Sasuke came up to lean against my tree, watching Naruto scream at our teacher. My feelings for Sasuke were… weird. I still had a crush on him, to some extent, but a lot of things had been put into perspective by a lifetime of adult experiences. Those experiences told me that the boy underneath me needed therapy. A lot of it and preferably as soon as possible. He was like a frozen lake. Pretty to look at, but it was probably best not to get too close.

“What took you so long, Sasuke?” I asked curiously.

Sasuke glanced up at me with a weird frown on his face, before he shrugged and turned back to the spectacle. “I had to talk to a contractor.”

I stared at him, the one-sided argument between Naruto and Kakashi growing even louder somehow. “Come again?”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “One of the houses in the compound had water damage I didn’t know about so I need to have it fixed. I had to talk with a contractor this morning to show them the right one.”

I blinked, a realization dawning on me. As the sole loyal Uchiha, Sasuke technically owned pretty much every single house that once belonged to his clan. That meant that upkeep and the general safety of the land was his responsibility. It never once occurred to me that he’d have to be personally responsible for the same houses his family was slaughtered in. That was… awful.

“…I’m sorry,” I said quietly. About what, I wasn't sure. Sasuke scowled confusedly and turned his head away.

Eventually, Naruto ran out of steam and Kakashi clapped his hands together with a smile that was entirely too pleased for someone who'd spent the better part of three minutes getting screamed at.

“Alright, now that we've all settled down, let's gather 'round. I've got our first mission already booked.”

I closed my book and unhooked my knees from the branch, dropping down to the ground. As I landed, a small cascade of leaves fluttered out from underneath my shirt. Kakashi's eye tracked them and he gave me a significant look before moving on as Naruto found his second wind at the prospect of his first ever official mission.

“So what kind of mission did we get,” he asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Is it a rescue mission? Are we guarding some important guy? Fighting off a bunch of bandits? Come on, tell me!”

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled in amusement at his enthusiasm. Even Sasuke seemed to perk up, his dark eyes flicking toward Kakashi with interest. I, on the other hand, already knew what was coming and had lowered my expectations accordingly.

“Today...” Kakashi paused, letting the tension build until Naruto looked about ready to explode. “We are going to help an old man finish painting his fence.”

His declaration put an immediate damper on the mood as Naruto froze mid-bounce, going stiller than I could ever remember him being in my entire life. He stared at Kakashi with a disbelieving expression, while our sensei just smiled back serenely, before glancing up at the sun.

“If we start now, I say we'd be finished in just a few hours. Just in time for lunch.” He nodded, smiling serenely as if he hadn't just shattered a young boy's hopes and dreams of grandeur.

Naruto's expression flickered, and suddenly he was right back to his usual self. That was to say, moments away from blowing our eardrums out with his voice.

“What the hell, Kakashi-sensei!?” He screamed, his arms flailing angrily. “Why are we doing chores? I thought we were supposed to be going on cool missions now that we're ninja!”

“Oh, you're way too green to be going on cool missions,” Kakashi chuckled, ruffling Naruto's hair, much to the boy's consternation. “You need to get a few D-ranks under your belt before you get a real mission.”

Naruto groaned, long and loud and dramatic. Even Sasuke looked disappointed, his eyebrows drawing together in a subtle frown that, on anyone else, would have been a full-on pout.

Kakashi noticed it too, and the absolute delight that crossed his visible eye was almost cruel. He was enjoying this way too much.

“Cheer up, boys,” I said, tucking my book under my arm. “At least it's a paycheck.”

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled. “That's the spirit, Sakura. Nothing wrong with honest work and a little pocket change.” He clapped his hands together, already turning to head out. “Now come on, let's get moving. If our team was late for our very first mission, people might start calling me a bad influence.”

He set off with his hands in his pockets, not even bothering to look back and see if we were following. Naruto dragged his feet behind him, scuffing the toes of his sandals against the ground as he shuffled along with none of his earlier enthusiasm.

I fell into step beside him and elbowed him in the side, flashing him a grin when he looked over. “Come on, it's not that bad. How about I race you there?”

His expression did a complete one-eighty, blue eyes lighting up. “Oh, you're on, Sakura-chan! Don't cry when I leave you in the dust!”

And just like that, he was off, sprinting past Kakashi with a shout about how he was going to be the first one there. I let him go, shaking my head as I matched pace with our sensei instead, Sasuke silently falling in on my other side.

“Does he even know where he's going?” Sasuke asked, and I giggled.

“Nope.”

He caught up to us three minutes later after turning down the wrong street.

Painting the fence was exactly as exciting as it sounded, which was to say not at all.

Hasegawa-san had been grateful for the help, but grateful only went so far when you were elbow-deep in paint and steaming under the afternoon sun. Naruto's constant complaints didn't help. Neither did Sasuke's broody silence. Still, they were at least more helpful than Kakashi who sat on the porch the entire time, reading his book and occasionally shouting out helpful suggestions like “you missed a spot” and “I think that side needs another coat” while we did all the actual work.

We were all tired and irritated by the time we were done, and that was the first mission out of the three we took that day. By the time we were finished, it was early evening and Sasuke was a few more shouts away from trying to rip Naruto's head off and I wasn't far behind them.

But. It was all made so, so much better when I got that fat envelope of ryo. More than twice my monthly allowance earned in only a few hours. The thoughts of what I could do with this made me almost giddy.

I ditched my team the moment we were free ignoring Naruto's invitation to ramen with only a little guilt. I made a beeline to the merchants district, full of shops catering to both shinobi and regular civilians.

Five minutes later, I was walking into the first shinobi surplus store I saw. I stepped in the door and stopped, looking around with wide eyes.

“Woah,” I whispered. “This place is like heaven for weapon fetishists.”

The walls were lined floor to ceiling with instruments of death and dismemberment. Swords, knives, clubs, axes, spears; pretty much everything that could conceivably bleed someone out or crush them to dust lined the walls in astounding quantities.

I stepped further inside, my head swiveling like I was at a museum. The store was more cramped than it first appeared, with narrow aisles created by freestanding display cases packed full of more weapons. Rolls of senbon in leather wraps, tanto in lacquered sheaths, a whole row of war fans. Who the heck used war fans?

As I stared at a row of surprisingly cheap meteor hammers, a voice called out from somewhere over the aisle.

“Give me just a second! I'll be right with you!”

I leaned around the aisle toward the front of the store where the counter sat. I could just see the top of someone's head behind it. They were bent over, working on something behind the counter.

“Take your time,” I said, drifting in their direction as I looked around. “You've got a lot of stuff in here I'm not really sure where to start.”

A giggle answered me. “We've got a lot of overstock. All of it is forged right here, so don't worry about quality. Just pick whatever speaks to you.”

A lot of stuff was speaking to me right now, honestly. Most of it saying “you can't afford me,” but speaking nonetheless.

I made my way toward the front counter, weaving through a narrow aisle lined with chain weapons. A set of manriki-gusari caught my eye, but I walked past them without stopping. Something told me no amount of practice would let me swing one of those around without braining myself. No thanks.

As I neared the counter, the top of the head became clearer, and I was surprised to find that I recognized the hairstyle atop it. The person behind the counter straightened up, wiping her hands on a rag, and I found myself face to face with none other than Tenten.

“Hey there!” She said, not looking surprised to see me. She must have heard me approach. “What can I do for you?”

“You work here, Tenten?” I couldn't help but ask. She tilted her head at the odd question.

“I pick up a shift or two to help out here and there.” She squinted, scanning my face. “Do we know each other? Sorry, I'm not good with faces.”

I blinked then waved my hands, an embarrassed blush coming to my face. “A-Ah, no. I think I've just seen you around? You're on team... Guy right? With the uh...”

I trailed off, unsure how exactly to describe the characters that were Might Guy and Rock Lee without offending the girl in front of me.

Thankfully, Tenten seemed to understand. She gave me a smile, “Yeah, that's me. Sometimes I need a break from my team so I come work here with my old man. It's boring, but then, so are D-ranks.”

I rolled my eyes, “Tell me about it. I just spent all morning helping an old man paint his fence.”

“You're a freshie, huh? Just wait until you get to babysit someone else's kids. That's always fun,” she laughed at my exaggerated shudder, before leaning over the counter. Her arms were well-muscled and flexed against the wood, even in her relaxed position. “So what are you looking for? If I can be blunt, you look like you could use some extra protection.”

I glanced down at my sparse ensemble. Just a dress and shorts with a tool pouch strapped to my thigh. Not exactly ninja worthy gear.

“Yeah,” I said, tugging at the hem of my dress. “Something like that. And a little bit in the way of offensive power, I guess.”

Tenten's expression twitched and then seemed to deflate a bit. She eyed me a bit more warily, like she suddenly wasn't so sure what to think of me.

“Let me guess,” she said, her voice flat. “You're looking for a sword.”

I blinked at the sudden shift. “Uh... yes? I was thinking something like—”

“Every single one of you,” Tenten groaned, rubbing at her temples. “Every fresh genin that walks through that door picks up their hitai-ate and immediately decides they need a katana.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she wasn't done.

“You know how many kenjutsu users we have in this village that aren't special forces? I do, and I can count them on one hand. You know why?”

I hesitated but it was clear she had no intention of letting me speak as she banged her fist on the counter immediately after, pointing at me severely. “Because half the kids who buy swords break them in a week! And if they're lucky enough not to cut their own hands off because they don't know which end to hold, then they're complaining about the temper or alignment like they haven't been slamming a piece of steel against training dummies like that would improve their swing! A sword isn't a toy, and it's not an accessory. It's a tool that takes years to master, and most genin don't put in the work.”

She crossed her arms, eyeing me. I scratched the back of my head, a bit unsure after that little tirade. “I mean, I'm not saying I'm going to be some kind of sword saint overnight, but I know better than to think I'll become a master in just a few days. I just need something with longer reach than a kunai.”

Because really, with the sorts of things I was probably going to face in the future, a kunai was not going to cut it.

Tenten stared at me skeptically, then sighed.

“Fine, I'll sell you one,” she said, and I perked up. “But there's an additional fee if you return it.”

I blinked. “What? Why?”

“Mhm.” She tapped her finger against the counter. “The ones that get brought back are usually scratched, chipped, or straight up cracked because nobody bothered taking care of them. We have to melt them down and reforge them, and that costs money. So consider it a deposit.”

“That's reasonable,” I said hesitantly. Tenten raised an eyebrow at me like she hadn't expected that response either.

She stared at me for a beat, then nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Alright then. Follow me.”

She came out from behind the counter and led me through one of the narrow aisles, weaving past display cases with weapons I couldn't even name. I followed close behind, trying not to gawk at everything we passed, but it was hard. They really had everything here.

“Simple swords are over here,” Tenten said, gesturing to a section of wall that held the longer blades that lacked the bells and whistles of the others. Tenten stopped at the front of the aisle, standing with her arms crossed. “Take your pick.”

I could tell she was judging me, and I swallowed as I stepped into the aisle.

The katanas were the first thing I passed, and I didn't even slow down. They were beautiful, sure, but they were also way too long for me. I was twelve, and not exactly what you'd call statuesque. There was no chance I'd be able to leverage one properly. The odachi were even worse in that regard. Those things were practically as tall as I was.

After a bit of searching, something managed to catch my eye. As I reached out and pulled it off of the rack, Tenten made a surprised noise in the back of her throat. I turned, expecting her to say something, and caught the tail end of her hair buns as she rounded the corner, heading back toward the counter.

Confused, I turned back to the weapon I'd grabbed. It was a wakizashi, wrapped in maroon silk with a similarly colored scabbard. I gingerly grabbed the handle, my thumb sliding along the silver tsuba, and flicked it open with a soft click.

The blade slid free and I held it up to the light. It was short, maybe twenty inches from tsuba to tip, with a gentle curve that was much less pronounced than the katana. The edge gleamed a pale silver, and the hamon line wavered as I tilted it from side to side, dancing in the light.

I gave it an experimental swing, keeping my wrist loose. The blade hummed as it cut cleanly through the air. It felt good just holding it, and even better swinging it. It wasn't the sort of thing that would cleave through armor, but against the fleshy bits of an unsuspecting ninja?

It would do.

I slid the blade back into its scabbard and made my way back toward the counter, where Tenten had resumed her position behind it.

“Find what you were looking for?” she asked in a tone carrying far less exasperation than before. I nodded, placing the wakizashi on the counter. She glanced down at it. A small smirk crossed her lips. “Good choice. I figured you'd go for a katana, but I'm glad to see at least one person knows her limits.”

She moved to ring me up, but I stopped her. “Do you have any uh... supplementary material?”

She looked confused. “Pardon?”

I waved my hands vaguely. “Like manuals on maintenance and stuff like that. I know how to keep my kunai sharp, but this isn't really a kunai, you know? I don't want to mess something up and ruin the sword like those other guys you were talking about.”

Tenten stared at me for a long moment, her expression frozen somewhere between surprise and suspicion. I shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny, suddenly feeling like I'd said something wrong.

“You know,” she said, leaning back against the counter, “in the two years I've been working here, you're the first genin who's asked me that before buying a blade.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. “Most of them just pay and walk out and then come back a week later once they figure out they actually have to take care of their sword.”

“That's... dumb,” I said. Tenten just nodded.

“Sure is,” She slapped the counter. “Come on, the maintenance stuff is over on the side.”

She hopped over the counter and led me to another area of the store, suddenly seeming much more energized than before. I guess having someone interested in actually taking care of their weapons excited her.

“Alright,” Tenten said, pulling a slim volume from the shelf and handing it to me. “This one covers the basics. Cleaning, oiling, proper storage, the works. It's not super in-depth, but it'll keep you from ruining your blade in the first month. One hundred ryo.”

She then reached up and grabbed a small wooden box from the shelf above, popping the lid. Inside was a soft cloth, a small bottle of oil, and a thin tool that looked like a hairpin made of metal. “This is a starter maintenance kit. It's got oil, uchiko powder, and a nugui for applying it. You'll want to replace it with something higher quality once you know what you're doing.”

I leaned over the box, examining the contents. “How much for the kit?”

“Another five hundred. But...” She paused, chewing her lip for a second. “Tell you what. Since you actually bothered to ask about maintenance, I'll throw in the kit for free if you buy the book.”

My eyes widened. “Really?”

Tenten shrugged, looking away with a sudden shyness that was almost cute. “Yeah, why not. You're already buying the sword. No need to break the bank just so you can take care of it too.”

I wasn't going to argue with that.

She brought my stuff back to the counter. I also picked up a light chain shirt to wear underneath my dress and some armguards. If I was going to be using a sword, it was probably a good idea to protect the hands I was going to hold it with.

All in all, the total pretty much wiped out my mission pay and drained my allowance completely, but as I walked out into the street with a sword on my back and some actual protection in my arms, I couldn't care less.

That’s one thing taken care of, I thought, turning down the street that would take me to the library. Now for the next.

The old Sakura Haruno wasn't ready for the realities of being a ninja. I would be.