Twiceborn: Adventures of the Red-Haired Menaces

Chapter Six: Academy

"Neh, Sasuke..." Sakura stared at the wall of the room they shared. It was tiny, barely fitting both of their futons in there, but it would do. She could feel Sasuke's body heat at her back – as they lay there together, facing outwards.

"What is it, Sakura?" he asked, and she felt him shift behind her.

She bit her lip. "How do you think tomorrow will go?" she asked, feeling oddly small of a sudden. "Do you think my classmates will be nice?" Fear curled in the pit of her stomach. What would she do if she couldn't make any friends?

"Does it matter?" Sasuke grumbled.

Sakura blinked, pushing her covers back, sitting up as she hugged her knees to her chest. "I want to make friends," she mumbled. "Especially since I won't be with the three of you... though knowing your luck, you'll end up with Naruto somehow."

"Dropping the honorifics already?" Sasuke mused, pushing his own covers back.

Sakura stared down at her hands, wringing them together. "Does it bother you?" she questioned, nerves building in her gut – both at what her cousin's response would be and the thought of heading to the academy tomorrow.

"We're family now. All of us," Sasuke said, sharingan spinning to life in the darkness, and the sudden clarity which overcame her own vision told her that her own had awakened. He climbed to his feet, grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her up and over towards a screen door. Pushing it back, Sakura blinked at the sight of the large, untouched mirror in front of them. "Stand there," he ordered, pushing her in front of him, right to the mirror's surface. "Now tell me what you see."

"Me?" Sakura offered, slightly unnerved by the sight of those spinning, glowing red irises on her own odd new face. She could see Madara's genetics in it, and they were far too obvious for comfort.

"What are you?"

Sakura turned to him, blinking in confusion.

"What clan do you belong to?"

Pulling at her red hair, she frowned, the words feeling unfamiliar on her lips as she spoke. "Uzumaki?"

"Try the other one," Sasuke said, folding his arms as he stared at the mirror, sharingan spinning pointedly.

"Uchiha?"

Sasuke nodded. "You're an Uchiha. Don't say it like a question."

"So some funky eyes are all it takes to make an Uchiha?" Sakura mumbled, shoulders sinking. She didn't feel like an Uchiha. In fact, she felt more like a girl playing dress up than ever. She didn't feel a single bit as confident as Madara no doubt did, nor did she feel like she had an inch of power like his – and she was now his biological offspring. What hope was there for anyone else?

"There's also the attitude—"

"The one where we treat everyone who's not part of our clan like dirt and sneer at everyone else?" she asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Not necessarily," he said. "My cousin was always cheerful... nii—I mean Itachi was calm and polite... most of the time. Only those with weak will followed the ideas of the clan elders. Only those who were idiotic enough to believe that to be Uchiha is an automatic route to success..." Sasuke shook his head. "There's more to it than that, but I'm getting off topic."

"So you are," Sakura murmured, staring into her own sharingan. She could probably cast a genjutsu on herself right then and there with her sparkly new eyes. She had been listed as a genjutsu type back in the Academy too. Kakashi never taught her any genjutsu. "Didn't you used to think like that though?"