Chapter Text
Sakura Haruno was born to Mebuki and Kizashi Haruno on a slightly overcast spring day. It was neither too cold nor too hot out, and the wind was gentle and brief.
She came into the world an angry red, scrunched little thing. Screaming and flailing, as if angry at the very thought of being forced into this world. When things had finally quieted, the child asleep in Mebuki’s arms, and the only other person in the sterile room, her husband, asleep in a chair at her bedside; Mebuki looked down at her daughter and knew. Knew that there would be no love between this child and the world.
There was a saying in the Haruno family. That sometimes their women were just born hungry. Mebuki was not one of these children. She had thought it unfair. How could someone judge a newborn babe that harshly? How could someone possibly claim to know how someone's life would go based on only a couple of moments? But looking down at the thing swathed in blankets and bundled in her arms, she felt something so visceral and deep that it felt as if it had been ripped from inside her chest, muscle and flesh giving way easily to tear through bone and sinew.
This Child would hold no love for her. Of that, Mebuki Haruno was certain. She felt it deep within her, so harshly ingrained into her very being that it almost made everything else she had ever felt seem like a lie. She knew she could never abandon it. Could never abandon her daughter. But nobody ever did. It was a whispered, hushed secret shared between family in the quiet hours of the night. That the only thing to do now was simply stand aside, lest you too be consumed. Harunos would never abandon one of their own, but this child of hers was never meant for keeping.
When Kizashi woke up, he could not fathom why his wife looked so desolate. As if she were in mourning. Mourning a child as it was just born. Mebuki simply smiled at him, soft and certain.
“Sakura. Her name will be Sakura.”
And Kizashi smiled softly at his beloved wife and daughter.
“Haruno Sakura. Our beautiful baby girl.”
As time marched on, it became evident that something was not quite right with the pink-haired girl. She was oh so loud her first couple of minutes in the world, but it was as if a switch had flipped, and that was it. She had already said everything she needed to. Afterwards, she simply stared. Sure, sometimes she’d fuss or cry, but it always felt off. But Mebuki had insisted it was fine and that lots of children in her family had been quiet babies. Kizashi trusted his wife, and since nothing seemed truly wrong with the girl, he brushed it off.
When they brought her to the park, she stuck close to them. When they shooed her off, trying to encourage her to go play with her peers, she sat under the large Hashirama tree on the outskirts of the playground. It looked like she was just… watching them. Not like she was staring off into space, but rather that she was focused intently on the other children, but no amount of urging or coercing could get the girl to go and play. Not in a shy way, just odd. It was odd.
It wasn’t like she was lethargic; at home, she would climb all over the furniture, escaping from her crib or the high chair. Often enough, they found her in the weirdest spots, usually high up. On top of the fridge, the top shelf of her closet—hell, even on the roof.
The first time she found her way up there, she was almost 4. Mebuki nearly had a heart attack upon seeing that one. “S-Sa-chan!? What- How did you even-? Get down here this instant, young lady!” The girl peered over the edge blankly at her mother before she sighed and climbed onto the massive tree branch next to the roof, shimmying down it like a fire pole. Kizashi made sure to triple check that the window in her room next to the tree was shut tightly and sealed off, looking all around for other possible ways she could get up there. It couldn’t be the tree; Sakura was much too small, and even a grown adult would have trouble climbing it; there were no branches until about 12 feet up, for Kami’s sake! After the fourth time it happened, they stopped panicking. After about the twelfth time, they just gave up and let her do what she wanted. She had never fallen, and they couldn't, for the life of them, figure out just how she was getting up there.
They had both been pretty sure this wasn’t normal toddler behavior, but then again, they had never had a child before. Kizashi remembered one of his coworkers mentioning how his own daughter was always getting into trouble, ending up in places she shouldn’t be, and climbing all over everything. Perhaps they were just overreacting.
Something in Mebuki knew it wasn’t. But, for the sake of her husband and her own mind, she chose to ignore that and just believe her Sa-chan was simply a bit odd. Nothing to worry about. Yet, the entire time, Mebuki grew anxious over the years, unsure of exactly what exactly her daughter would crave for. What she would burn herself up for.
It turns out she didn’t have to wait long. Just a couple weeks after Sakura turned 5, she burst into the living room, determined in a way Mebuki had never seen her daughter. Prior to this, Sakura had been almost apathetic towards life, just watching in that scarily intelligent and observing way. But it's what came next that made her heart sink.
“Okaa-san, I’m going to be a shinobi.”