The sun began its descent, staining the sky over the Forest of Death a bloody orange that promised a cold night. On the tower's balcony, the roar of combat had ceased, leaving behind a heavy silence, thick with the exhaustion and lingering tension of battle. Most of the genin had dispersed throughout the large indoor hall; some celebrated quietly, others tended to their wounded, and most simply sat in silence, processing the fact that they had survived.
A small group, however, had remained outside, seeking fresh air away from the stale atmosphere within. Sakura, Hinata, and Karin sat on the stone edge of the balcony, their legs dangling over a drop of hundreds of meters. For some reason, the height felt safer than the ground.
Sakura stretched, a groan of pain escaping her lips as her muscles protested.
"I don't think I'll be able to move tomorrow," she said, her voice hoarse with fatigue. "I feel like I ran a marathon and then got in a fight with a mountain."
Hinata nodded, a small, tired smile on her face.
"You used a lot of chakra. Your body needs time to recover."
"It's not just that," Sakura murmured, looking at her own hands. They were dirty and scratched, but they felt strange, as if they didn't quite belong to her. "It's… everything else."
Silence fell between them again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the silence of soldiers after a battle, a shared space where words weren't necessary to understand the weight of what they had endured.
Karin, who had remained quiet beside them, shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, even though it wasn't cold. She was examining her own arm, the pale skin marked by a series of small bite scars, some old and others, like the one Sakura had made, still recent and pink.
Hinata was the first to notice. Her voice was gentle, full of genuine concern.
"Karin… are you okay? Those marks… do they hurt?"
Karin flinched, as if pulled from a bad dream. She quickly pulled down the sleeve of her tattered coat to hide the scars.
"It's nothing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm used to it."
"No one should get used to something like that," Sakura's voice was surprisingly firm. There was no pity in it, but an undercurrent of anger. "Your ability… having to let people bite you to heal them. That's inhuman."
Karin shrugged, her red eyes fixed on the distant tree line.
"It's what I am. It's what we Uzumaki are, isn't it? We have this… vitality. Too much of it. It's always been this way."
"Naruto never mentioned anything like it," Hinata said with curiosity.
"Maybe he doesn't know. Or maybe his ability is different," Karin sighed, a shaky sound. "In my village, they didn't see it as an ability. They saw it as a resource. Like having a well of fresh water in the middle of the desert. Everyone wants a drink, but no one cares if the well runs dry."
Sakura and Hinata listened in silence, feeling the weight of a story that was just beginning to unfold.
"My mother… she was just like me," Karin began, her voice growing distant, as if speaking of a ghost. "She was the best medical-nin in Kusagakure. Not because of her techniques, but because of her blood. After every major battle, they would bring the wounded. Not to a hospital. To our house."
She paused, swallowing hard.
"I was little. I would hide under the table and watch them. Strong ninja, proud men, crawling on the floor. They would grab her arm and… bite her. I would watch the color return to their faces, watch their wounds begin to close. And I would watch my mother get a little paler each time. A little thinner."
"Did no one… did no one help her?" Hinata asked, her voice filled with a pained disbelief.
Karin let out a short, joyless laugh.
"Help her? They revered her. They called her 'The Savior of the Grass.' They brought her gifts, they thanked her. But when the door closed, it was just her and me. I'd watch her collapse on the floor, too tired to make it to her futon. Sometimes, she had so many bites on her arm she couldn't lift it to cook. We had cold rice balls for dinner on those nights."
Sakura clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. The rage was a slow-burning fire in her stomach. Rage against that nameless village, against those anonymous leaders.
"One day," Karin continued, her voice now a monotone whisper, as if the pain was so old it no longer had inflection, "there was a huge battle on the border. A massacre. They brought an entire platoon to our house. They were torn apart. Broken bones, punctured organs… My mother didn't hesitate. She told them to form a line."
"I watched her. For hours. One after another. They bit her arm, her shoulder, her leg… wherever they could find a patch of healthy skin. And she healed them. Her green light grew fainter and fainter. Her face turned the color of wax, but she didn't stop. When the last of them stood up and left, she just stood there for a moment. She looked at me. And she tried to smile."
Karin stopped. A single tear slid down her cheek and hit the stone of the balcony.
"And then, she just… collapsed. She was empty. She had given every last drop of her chakra, of her life, to save them. She died right there, on our kitchen floor."
Hinata choked back a sob, bringing a hand to her mouth. Sakura felt her own eyes well up with tears, a mix of fury and a sorrow so deep it made her chest ache.
"The worst part," Karin said, her voice now broken, "wasn't finding her like that. The worst part was what happened next. I was sitting beside her, holding her cold hand, not knowing what to do. And then, the door opened. It was the village elders. They didn't offer condolences. They didn't offer help. One of them looked at me, saw my mother's body, and then said, 'The battle isn't over. There are more wounded on the way. It's your turn to serve the village.'"
The brutality of those words left Sakura and Hinata breathless.
"I was eight years old," Karin whispered. "And that very night, a chūnin with his chest torn open bit my arm for the first time."
Hinata's crying was no longer silent. She moved closer and, not knowing what else to do, hugged Karin. Karin went rigid for an instant, surprised by the contact, and then she fell apart, her body wracked with sobs she had held back for years.
Sakura didn't move. Tears streamed freely down her face, but her expression was one of icy fury. The image of Kusagakure's leaders using a child like a disposable first-aid kit overlapped with the greedy, smiling face of Gatō.
Monsters, she thought, the word thundering in her mind with terrifying clarity. The world is full of monsters. And sometimes… sometimes you have to become one to stop them.
The decision she had made in the Land of Waves, the act of taking a life that had haunted her nightmares, suddenly felt different. It didn't feel good. It would never feel good. But, for the first time, it felt… necessary.
"Those people…" Sakura's voice was a low, dangerous hiss. "They deserved to die."
Karin lifted her head from Hinata's shoulder, her red eyes wide with surprise at the vehemence in Sakura's voice.
"Don't worry," Sakura said, her tone softening as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "You're not alone anymore. No one will ever use you like that again. I promise you."
Sakura's promise hung in the evening air. For a moment, the three of them remained in a healing silence, bound not as members of a forced alliance, but as girls who had found an unexpected refuge in one another. The weight of the exam, the threat of Gaara, and the ghost of Orochimaru all seemed to fade, replaced by the simple, solid reality of not being alone.
"I suppose having a team watch your back is always a good idea."
Kakashi's voice appeared behind them, calm and observant. He had approached without any of the three, lost in their moment, noticing him. He leaned against the doorframe leading to the balcony, his book closed in one hand. His single visible eye didn't hold its usual laziness, but a calm approval.
"Good work in there. All of you."
His gaze landed on Karin for an instant, a hint of compassion in it.
"I heard parts of your story. I'm sorry. No shinobi should have to go through that."
The girls started, instinctively getting to their feet, the intimacy of their conversation broken.
"Kakashi-sensei," Sakura said. "We were just… resting."
"I know," he replied. "But don't let your guard down. Stay alert for anything strange that might happen. The danger isn't over just because we're inside this tower."
Sakura, driven by the emotion of the moment and her new protective role, didn't hesitate.
"Sensei, can we… can we adopt her?"
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, an expression of genuine surprise crossing his face.
"Adopt her? Sakura, she's not a stray puppy."
"I know!" she insisted, a frustrated blush coloring her cheeks. "I mean… can she come to Konoha? With us. She can't go back to her village. They'll kill her. She's an Uzumaki, sensei. Like Naruto. We can't just turn our backs on her."
The mention of Naruto and the Uzumaki name made Kakashi's expression turn more serious. He looked at Karin, not as a lost genin, but as a strategic asset and a responsibility. He sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle on his shoulders.
"Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible. Taking in a genin from another village, especially from such a secretive one and with a kekkei genkai as unique as the Uzumaki's, is a top-tier political incident. It would create a conflict of interest, animosity between the villages. It would be a diplomatic nightmare."
Karin's face fell with hopelessness. She knew it was true.
"That is, of course," Kakashi continued, "if we're playing by the rules of a world at peace. But, depending on the village's situation when we get back… there might be a way. The power structure could… change. I'm not promising anything."
He paused, his gaze growing distant, as if seeing an uncertain future.
"But, perhaps… if Naruto succeeds in his mission, the person he might bring back would have the authority to make those kinds of decisions."
The mention of Naruto was an anchor of hope, a reminder that there was another piece in motion on this complicated board. Kakashi turned to leave.
"Get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."
He left, leaving them with a new, fragile possibility. Just then, another figure appeared in the doorway. It was Ino. She had approached, drawn by the conversation, her expression a mix of curiosity and an uncharacteristic hesitation.
"Hey…" she said, her voice unusually soft, directed at Karin. "What they did to you… was awful. I'm glad you're with us now."
Karin offered her a small, timid smile of thanks, surprised by the kindness.
Sakura looked at Ino, a smirk playing on her lips, a flash of their old dynamic.
"I'm surprised you're not with Sasuke-kun, trying to talk to him. I thought you wouldn't leave his side now that we're finally somewhere safe."
Ino sighed, a sound of weariness and maturity. She leaned on the railing next to Sakura, her gaze lost on the village spreading out below them.
"I've thought a lot about what you told me in the forest. About not being weak. About fighting for something more than a boy's attention."
She looked at Sakura, and for the first time, there was no rivalry in her eyes. There was respect. Hard-earned respect.
"I've made a decision. I'm going to focus on training. On getting stronger for myself. On being a kunoichi my team can depend on."
She paused, and a genuine, amused smile lit up her face.
"Besides, I don't have my rival anymore."
She looked at Sakura knowingly. The old competition for a boy had transformed. It was no longer about who won Sasuke's heart. Now they were rivals on a different path: the path to strength. The implication was clear: Sakura had become her new goal to surpass, not for a prize, but out of respect.
Sakura smiled back.
"We'll see about that, Ino-Pig."
"Anytime, Billboard Brow."
The insult was affectionate, an echo of a friendship being rebuilt on much stronger foundations.
On a dark rooftop on the other side of Konoha, the night wind was cold. Two figures were cloaked in the shadows, their presences almost undetectable.
"The Uchiha passed, as expected, Lord Orochimaru."
Kabuto's voice was a respectful whisper, but there was a hint of satisfaction in it. He adjusted his glasses, their lenses reflecting the distant light of the tower.
"His second tomoe has awakened. He's a promising specimen. Rage and humiliation are excellent for awakening the Uchiha's power."
Orochimaru, let out a low, sibilant laugh.
"Kukuku… yes, he is. His potential is delicious. But he isn't the only interesting talent in this batch. The report you gave me was incomplete, Kabuto."
Kabuto bowed slightly.
"What do you mean, Lord Orochimaru?"
"That Hyuga girl… her ability to seal my jutsu at the last instant… that wasn't a simple application of the Gentle Fist. And the pink-haired one, with that anomalous strength… They're more than mere genin. There is an unknown factor at play with Team 7. A power that wasn't in your reports."
"My apologies, Lord Orochimaru. I will investigate the source of this… discrepancy."
"Do so," Orochimaru hissed. "But in the meantime, I've found another interesting toy."
Kabuto looked up, curious.
"Another?"
"A boy named Rock Lee," Orochimaru said, his tongue flicking out for an instant. "He can't use ninjutsu or genjutsu. Utterly useless in two of the three shinobi arts. Fascinating, don't you think? And yet, his skill in taijutsu is… monstrous. His speed rivals that of many chūnin. And his sensei is Might Gai. Devotion to a single path can forge a power as great as any kekkei genkai."
The interest in Orochimaru's voice was purely scientific, that of a collector who has found a rare and unexpected piece.
"Make a note of it, Kabuto. I want to see him in action. Especially if he's matched against my dear Sasuke-kun, or the boy from the Sand. The clash of those potentials will be a spectacle worth seeing."
"Understood, Lord Orochimaru."
"The Hyuga cost me valuable time," Orochimaru continued, his tone growing darker. "The seal would have accelerated Sasuke-kun's growth through pain. Now, I will have to use a more… direct method during the finals."
He turned his back to the tower, his silhouette stretching into the night.
"Continue your observations. Report every match, every injury, every display of power. This garden of Konoha has yielded an excellent harvest this year. And I plan to reap it all."
Kabuto bowed to the darkness where his master had vanished.
"As you command, Lord Orochimaru."