“On my name, as a Santaru of the Kumogakure, you will all return...”
“We will return because we make good decisions, and that starts right now, with a bit of preparation….”
A stir of inaudible screams pressed against the inside of her skull, familiar as breath. Her mind would travel back and forth to a similar situation where hubris was mistaken for confidence and reassurance.
"I'm sure we won't have too much trouble!"
“I'll look out for you too, okay?"
"Like hell any of us are gonna be dog food! I won't allow it..."
Sakura would blink and then the voices were gone. Back then, they did not listen to Sakura either. As a result, consequences were inevitable. Sakura’s gaze fell back onto her familiar who had found its way back onto her shoulder. “It’s like I always say thing… you can lead the Donner Party to the cadaver but you can’t make them eat it.”
New faces. Same conviction. Same warm, tragic logic. History was a lot like death, repetitive and also inevitable. As far as Sakura could discern, they were doomed.
It was a shame that Kouin could not see the forest through the trees. He was mistaken in the same way that the farm animals viewed the benevolent farmer. The farmer feeds the cattle, but it also holds the blade. Kouin insisted this was not a training exercise. To him, this was not rehearsal. Leadership was consequence. Immediate. Bloody. Final. He saw children and refused to dress them in authority he believed they could not carry. Protective. Noble. Weak. Mistaken.
He did not understand that the lethality of their surroundings did not fluctuate based on who lead. They were already standing in the graveyard; arguing about who held the lantern was mathematics, not morality. By clutching command to his chest, Kouin believed he shielded them. What he truly did was deny them the moment that would carve them into something greater. Under the quiet, ever-present shadow of two Sennin level shinobi, this was the safest crucible they would ever know. For the students, this mission could only ever resemble a training exercise. Because the true, terrible responsibility would always fall upward. To him. Or, if necessary— To her. If Kouin failed to understand that, then perhaps the burden of protection had never been equally distributed. The burden of their lives truly only rested on Sakura’s shoulders…
And then their was Shizue. Despite her obvious opposition, she had already begun forcing momentum where paralysis threatened to bloom. She did not possess every answer, but she created movement. She gathered the others. She named limits. She created direction where panic might otherwise root itself. That was leadership. That was what Sakura had demanded of them and what Kouin might have taken away. A flicker of satisfaction threatened the corner of her mouth before discipline strangled it. She was a masterful puppeteer. Sometimes, a well placed suggestion was better than any puppet string. Perhaps there was hope for today’s youth. If Sakura had breath to hold, she wouldn’t.
“How do I learn through fear… if I do not feel it?”
Ruri’s question slid through the mausoleum of her thoughts. Sakura’s head inclined toward the girl, eyes lowering with quiet appraisal. Interesting. Most people drowned in fear. This one searched for it and came up empty.
“Understanding,” Sakura said at last, voice smooth, almost gentle,
“is a form of fear. You simply haven’t met anything yet that can educate you properly.” Not a cruelty. Just a forecast. Experience would finish the lecture far more efficiently than she ever could. So Sakura allowed silence to reclaim her before following the others.
[mft]
[ooc: sorry this took so long.]
