Chapter 52: The Girl Who Dropped From the Sky on a Moonlit Night
"Sakura nee-chan, save me!"
The line made the sharp-featured black-haired girl follow Konohamaru's gaze.
A pink-haired girl had appeared at the corner not far away.
A cherry-pink ponytail. Clear, gem-green eyes. A Konoha forehead protector around her neck. White-and-black shinobi gear, every inch of it sharp and trim. The whole package read as crisp, capable, and seriously dashing.
Tch. So you're pretty, big deal...
"Heh heh, you're DEAD, girl-man!"
"Sakura nee-chan is super strong — she's gonna pound you into a pig's head!"
Konohamaru, still dangling from her grip, smirked at Kurotsuchi.
"Hah?"
"You little brat, don't get cocky just yet!"
"You really think reinforcements means you're safe?"
Kurotsuchi flicked him in the forehead, indignant.
"Hey, you over there. What are you to this brat?"
She pitched Konohamaru back toward Moegi and Udon and turned a fully provocative look on Sakura.
Sakura watched, deeply unimpressed, as the second Konohamaru hit the ground he scrambled at lightning speed to drag his two teammates behind her.
"He's my master's grandson."
She pushed Konohamaru back down as he attempted to keep mouthing off at Kurotsuchi.
She knew this kid too well.
At his current age, Konohamaru was the textbook third-generation political brat — exactly the swaggering, throw-his-weight-around little aristocrat that everyone pictures when they hear the phrase. His entire vocabulary boiled down to "my grandpa's the Hokage" and "do you know who I am?"
"Oh? So you're the current Hokage's disciple?"
Kurotsuchi's gaze sharpened with renewed challenge.
She had not forgotten Konohamaru's "my grandpa is the Hokage" from a moment ago.
Sakura didn't deny it. She just looked back at her, level.
"And so?"
"What do you want to do about it?"
Family business gets handled in-house. But the moment outsiders try to discipline a member of the family — that's a different conversation. Sakura was clear on that line. Even more so given that Konohamaru was the old man's grandson — she had a duty to cover him.
Meanwhile, Konohamaru and his two cohorts were now staring at Sakura with sparkling, hero-worship eyes.
Sakura nee-chan is so cool!
"You —!"
Kurotsuchi was about to launch a full broadside when a broad, heavy palm settled on her shoulder.
"Misunderstanding. Just a misunderstanding."
"The kid just bumped into me by accident and fell down. That's all."
Akatsuchi watched his Iwagakure princess about to square up with someone who was, very obviously, not a person to mess with, and rushed to defuse.
"Konohamaru. Is that what happened?"
"Don't lie to me."
Sakura's gaze landed on him, neither warm nor cold.
Konohamaru jumped up to launch a campaign for Sakura to please teach this girl-man a lesson — and was immediately yanked back down by Moegi and Udon.
"It... it is, Sakura nee-chan."
Under the weight of Sakura's stare, Konohamaru suddenly felt his back go cold.
"Yes. That's what happened."
"Apologize."
"S-sorry..."
He pursed his lips and mumbled it out, every syllable dripping with insincerity.
"There. You see. Konohamaru apologized."
Sakura looked at Kurotsuchi, voice flat.
AAARGH this girl looks SO punchable!
Kurotsuchi was grinding her teeth — but with Akatsuchi's worried look on her, the fact that she was on Konoha turf, and the Land of Earth needing to play nice with the Land of Fire on the resource deal...
"Fine."
"Your name."
She bit it out through her teeth.
"Sakura Haruno."
Good. Good. Good. Sakura Haruno, huh? You just wait, you little —
See if I don't bury you in the Chūnin Exams. If I don't, my name isn't Empress Kurotsuchi!
As the three Iwagakure shinobi walked off, the calm composure on Sakura's face slipped into something resembling exasperation.
She turned that look back onto Konohamaru.
"You little idiot. Could you sit still for two days?"
She extended a finger and let it hover at his forehead, under his rapidly-mounting horror.
Haruno Secret Art: Single-Finger Flick!
The pink-haired girl-man is even MORE violent than the black-haired one!
Konohamaru clutched his forehead with tears welling, suppressing the urge to actually cry, and nodded furiously.
"And you two. The next two days, keep an eye on this gremlin. Don't let him wander off."
"Got it?!"
She planted her hands on her hips and stared down at the trembling Moegi and Udon.
"YES MA'AM!"
"Big Sis Sakura!"
The two of them snapped to attention and shouted in unison.
"Good. Take this one home."
Sakura ruffled both of their heads with a quiet laugh.
She watched the three little disasters book it out of her field of vision faster than an Inuzuka ninken on a fresh scent. The smile faded from her mouth.
She had business to take care of.
Late Night. Wind Howling Through the Dark.
The lodgings Konoha had assigned to the foreign delegations.
A red-haired girl was curled up alone in the single-bed room Konoha had allotted her.
She'd buried herself in the corner of the bed, body pulled tight into a ball — the unmistakable posture of someone who lived in a state of constant, gnawing insecurity, so deep that even in sleep her body defaulted to the same defensive curl.
This stretch of time in Konoha was one of the few periods in her life when she could sleep in real peace.
Her village "comrades" were in the next room over. Konoha was peaceful — no chakra to expend, no wounds to take, which meant nothing for which her presence was needed.
So the girl finally had two precious days of quiet.
But —
She thought she heard something. The girl, with all her insecurity, drowsily cracked open ruby-red eyes.
She couldn't see clearly... no glasses?
A vague silhouette had appeared at the side of her bed.
She instinctively reached out — her pale arm covered in old bite marks — toward the red-framed glasses on the nightstand.
She got them on. And only then did horror set in: a figure had, somewhere in the past few moments, materialized inside her room.
Right then, the night wind shifted the clouds, and clean moonlight spilled through the window — illuminating the intruder's face.
A strange, beautiful pink-haired girl was just standing there, in her room...
The redhead stared up, dumbstruck. The pink, lit by the moon, looked almost... dreamlike.
The strange girl took a step toward the bed. The redhead sat frozen, watching her come.
Those green eyes — paired with that gorgeous cherry-pink hair — were, in the moonlight, almost unreal.
"You're Karin. Correct?"
The visitor said her name without hesitation, without error.
"Uh. Yes..."
"Who are you?"
The girl named Karin stared up at her, dazed.
The strange pink-haired girl's eyes fell on the bite-mark-covered forearm. Karin's gaze followed — and she snatched her arm back as if she'd been shocked.
In this moment — for the first time — looking at this girl who appeared to be roughly her own age, something rose in her chest that she'd never felt before.
It was called inferiority.