Fanfic I guess

But while Sakura had lost many of the rounds, she felt that she had proven her worth to them as more than a woman, and more than a slave.

There were some stares that bothered her more than others. They were calculating rather than curious, and there was one in particular that she couldn't brush away. A man with long white hair had kept his eyes on her since she'd walked into the building and it was too intense to ignore. There was an intent in that stare. Finally, she met his and as she looked him down, he folded like a house made of parchment.

Perhaps he thought he was being subtle, or maybe he wanted her to see him. She turned back to her breakfast and although she knew it wasn't him, she could feel eyes on her again.

“How does it feel?” Asked Moegi.

Sakura stretched her leg as she walked around the clinic, letting the muscles pull against each other until the pain was too much. “It's sore, but not unmanageable.”

Moegi sighed. “You're lucky the spike didn't do more damaged. The thigh has many nerves in it and it didn't seem to hit anything major, and it did miss the largest blood vessel. Although…”

Squinting as she beckoned Sakura closer and examined the stab wound, Moegi frowned. “I don't understand. It has only been two days and yet I swear your wound is almost completely healed!”

Sakura shrugged. “Isn't that a good thing?”

“Well yes, but I don't understand how it's possible. I had assumed it was just a surface wound based on your activity after Hidan, but the damage here is quite clear.” Moegi shook her head in wonder. “Perhaps it's because you broke out of the ritual.”

“Perhaps.”

“But the few who fought him in the past and survived, they suffered a much longer healing time. And your hand!” Moegi pressed on. “The brand is still there, but the skin itself is almost unblemished from the burn!” She shook her head in wonder. “Have you always healed at such a rate?”

Sakura looked at her thigh, now only pink and puckered with a shiny scar now forming. “No,” she said slowly. “To my knowledge, a broken bone in the past took just as long as anybody else's. But I could have been mistaken.”

Moegi stared at the scar as well. “Or maybe,” she pondered, wonder in her voice. “Maybe this is the work of something divine.”

Kimimaro met with the man again - this time with clear instructions and a message. He memorised it and left the room. Of course his master knew what to do. He always did.

Sakura walked behind the guard from the apothecary. As they made their way towards the barracks, she still couldn't comprehend what was happening. When Hidan had first stabbed her, the pain she had felt was blinding, but now there were only twinges of pain. She furrowed her brow as she followed her guard absentmindedly down the path.

Maybe she had healed quickly in the past, but nothing to the extent she'd seen today. If she had known the extent of the damage, Sakura would have never fought those brothers in the dining hall, nor the instructors. Perhaps she should just take this as a blessing, grateful that it happened at all. But the why still escaped her. Why her? Why now? And most importantly, who was responsible?

As she ran circles in her brain, she heard the clash of swords and steel, and it slowly grew louder as she reached the barracks. Her new home, she supposed.

Sakura rounded the corner to see the other members of barrack seven training, resting, or watching, but by far one pair of fighters had her immediately enthralled.

Itachi and Kisame danced around each other; every strike precise and every movement fluid. They seemed to be on equal footing as Kisame’s massive blade tried to fight its way past - and sometimes through - Itachi’s staff. The joy on Kisame’s face was apparent as he laughed and grinned at each blow while Itachi seemed to fight with grace but a definite level of apathy. Then again, it was difficult to tell with the blindfold and nothing to analyse but thin, strained lips.

The guard stopped at the arch and waved her through. Sakura carefully stepped around to lean against a column, hesitant to interrupt or even take her eyes off of the fight.

Deidara slid over to her, just as careful and quiet. “You know,” the words slipped out from the corner of his mouth. “I may despise the Uchiha, but I can't doubt his skill. They've been going at it for near an hour.”

Sakura looked more closely, and she could see the sweat shining on their skin and their chests heaving with every breath, but still their weapons stayed level and each swing of steel didn't waver in strength.

Behind them, Haku and Zabuza seemed to be practicing stances, their swords as different from each other as they are: Haku's short and slender and Zabuza’s almost as large as Kisame’s. They both seemed to be impartial to the spar in the middle of the yard.

The same could not be said of Hidan who hollered at Itachi and Kisame, throwing wild suggestions into the wind and yelling again as they were ignored. Similar to Sakura and Deidara, Kakuzu and Sasori were silent observers to the fight as they took in the strategy and skill that Hidan seemed to miss. Or perhaps simply wilfully ignored.

As Sakura turned her head back to watch the spar, she noticed Sasori's eyes flit in her direction. They stayed there longer than they should have, and it was an effort not to turn her head and stare right back. She knew there was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way, and although she didn't recognise him, there was something about him that was too familiar. Unnervingly so.

Her concentration snapped back to the fight as Itachi twisted his staff under Kisame’s grip to send the massive blade spinning in the air. The motion left the metal tip of the staff resting just atop Kisame’s head as the man’s face changed from one of shock to one of laughter.

“I never can beat you, can I Itachi?” Kisame boomed. He turned to retrieve his sword from the dust as Itachi lowered the staff and walked towards the shade, reaching for a cup and pitcher of water.

Towards the side, Sakura could see Kakuzu and Sasori exchanging money, although more seemed to pass to Kakuzu's hand. So, they were gambling men, but if she had to go off of the stony look on Sasori’s face, he was not the most favoured.

“Ah! Sakura!” Kisame was walking towards her, sword swung over his shoulder and mirth in his eyes. Clearly he wasn't hurt by this loss. He stopped in front of her.

“So, what did you think of the end of our spar?” Kisame flexed his muscles, the movement rippling across his body, along with a suggestive eyebrow. “Enjoy the show?”

“Your technique was quite impressive.” Sakura chose her words carefully. “I'm sorry to have missed the start of it.”

Kisame stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back in laughter. “You're certainly a sweet talker and I can't say I hate it. So, what do you say? A few minutes and I can be back in the dirt if you fancy a fight.”

Sakura pursed her lips. It wasn't something she could avoid, and it all boiled down to weakness. If she didn't fight him she was a coward, but if she did then the worst that could happen was a beating.

She could see Deidara staring at her from the corner of her eye, his brows knitted together. As she opened her mouth to accept Kisame’s offer, he spoke.

“Hey now Big Blue, you've been hogging the stage! Why don't I go toe to toe with Pinky here and I'll put on a bit of a display for all of you, yeah?”

Kisame gave him a wiry look before letting out a large, exhaustive sigh. “If I don't then you'll just bitch about it for the rest of the week. Alright, I guess Samehada will just have to make ‘Pinky's’ acquaintance later.” His gaze turned stony. “And I will have that match, so don't get too… excited. I want my opponent in one piece.”

Deidara grinned. “Don't worry about it, I'm not Hidan.”

Hidan violently protested this from across the yard.

Deidara stroked the side of his sword, strange grooves were cut into the blade. “I can restrain myself for practice, and anyway, the art is better saved for the main event.”

Sakura threw Kisame a quizzical glance, but he just waved her off. “If he wants to save the light show for the arena, we're better off for it. And I have to say, it's not something meant for a small stage.”

Although still confused, she nodded, and followed Deidara onto the sand, grabbing a hand axe and graecus on her way. There was no point hiding her preference, not after they'd all already seen it. She took a few moments to warm up with stances and stretches, and she could see the rest of the gladiators continuing on with their own training. Sakura knew it was naive to believe they were ignoring her, but at least they were less inquisitive and invasive about it. She snorted. Not that most of these men truly cared, except Hidan of course; he stood on the sidelines, an eager gleam in his eyes. An unwilling but loyal admirer it seemed.

Sakura stood tall to face Deidara and shifted into a stance more familiar than anything and he followed suit. At a silent count, they sprang forward and the fight began.

Fighting Deidara was an experience. His entire being seemed to vibrate with excitement and his style was strange enough to be a real challenge. But this fight wasn't part of a battle or a desperate bid for survival. It was fun.

The joy was infectious and soon Sakura was smiling along with Deidara as they attacked and dodged and parried. She didn't have to worry about someone losing a head - they were both too skilled for that. And soon Sakura realised they had been sparing for long enough for her arms to grow tired and her muscles sore. The fight stopped when both their swords rested at each other's necks, twin smiles splitting across their faces.

As she heaved her breaths, Sakura thought maybe she couldn't trust anyone in Rome but there was certainly a comradeship to find in some of the other gladiators here. They were just as unwilling to stay here as her.

They sat on the bench, pouring water as the sun rising high in the sky hinted at lunch.

Deidara was chatting amicably about the others in barrack seven - their skills and talents.

“- And Danna, when I first got thrown in here, I wanted to put on a show just as good as he does.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow at the term as she filled her cup. High praise to call someone master. “Good, is he?”

“Yeah,” said Deidara. “They don't call him ‘Sasori of the Red Sands’ for nothing.”

Sakura paused, the cup raised halfway to her lips, as she finally made the connection with the mention of that name. Suddenly, the familiarity that had haunted her since seeing Sasori turned to horror. For the ‘Red Sands’ made people think of the desert during sunset and the blood he spilt, but Sakura knew that the red was in the flames of the fire that razed Suna to the ground. She wasn't there when it had first happened, but she had seen the aftermath. People without homes and without families. It was why she had stayed, for those three children.

She swallowed dryly as she turned to face him, and she saw the recognition reflected in Sasori's eyes. He was still looking at her. He knew who she was all along; where she came from; the village that was destroyed when she came to Rome, and now he knew that she recognised him. He stood up quickly and strode towards his cell, without a backwards glance.

Deidara made a sound brimming with confusion. “That was weird,” he said. And then he simply smiled. “Maybe he was embarrassed. It's not every day you get bragged to a pretty lady.”

Sakura flashed back a strained smile, hoping it was enough to conceal what thoughts swirled inside her. All along, the man who hurt the people she loved was trapped in Rome, and as Deidara’s voice continued to prattle on in the background, all Sakura could think was what was she supposed to do?

Sakura took advantage of the mild chaos in tidying up the training yard for lunch to find Sasori in his cell and slam him against the wall.

He returned her violence with a look of complete boredom, and as he spoke the apathy dripped from his words.

“I can't say I'm surprised, but people might start thinking things. Unless that's what you want.”

Sakura sneered and let him drop from the wall. “You know where I came from and I'm guessing that you know what I want.”

“Ah, yes. Suna.” The look of boredom prevailed. “You know, you shouldn't believe all of the rumours.”

“What? That you killed the Kazekage? Or set fire to the entire town?”

“I said you shouldn't believe all of them. Those ones are true. But I'm going to guess that when they told you I did those despicable things it was because I was crazy and cruel.” A flicker of anger crossed his stony facade. “Not that the Kazekage was both of those things and more. I liberated that town and its people.”

“You left them homeless!” Sakura was finding it more and more difficult to keep her voice down.

“And yet they survived. Until the Romans came. Imagine if Suna was still the great city it once was. Think of how many more people they would have put to the sword.”

“It was a massacre until I intervened! And as if destroying Suna was for the people’s greater good - you never would have guessed that they would invade, nor what they would do once they walked through Suna's gates!”

Sasori, his voice still infuriatingly calm, said one thing that made her blood run cold. “If I hadn't killed the Kazekage and burned Suna, those children of yours would have been abused by their family and hunted down like dogs. You know how important the royal family was, and thanks to me they no longer exist.”

Sakura knew he was right, but she hated to admit it. If people knew who those children were… then they would be better off dead.

“Fine,” she hissed. “I don't condone your actions, but if you destroyed Suna for the reasons you say you did, I can understand why. But don't think for a second that this is over.”

Sakura spun on her heel and left the room with the unsettling knowledge that Sasori had come out of that conversation on top. And he knew it too.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Sakura no longer felt Sasori staring at her every second she was turned in the other direction. She was still rattled by what she had discovered, but luckily, she didn't believe him to be more of a threat than before, just someone to be wary of. No, instead the staring was a lot less often and at least she knew why. Now it was just that other man who refused to hold her gaze who bothered her - the one with the long, white hair.

And at the end of the meal, as Sakura stood to follow the flow of gladiators and guards out of the building, the man caught her arm as other men, the ones who sat with him in clear solidarity during meals, blocked them from view. He pulled her from behind a column and around a corner until they were out of sight, and she let him. Sakura wanted to know exactly what he wanted.

He stood aloof in front of her, but it was clear that he was unsure, or at the very least awkward of confrontation. “I know who you are.” His voice was silky and oh so unpleasant. Sakura knew she'd feel it grating at her for days to come, but at the moment, all she could feel was a growing sense of dread.

“I know where you're from.” The dread hit her full force. If he knew she was from Suna, then the children… and if he knew where she was really from, then she was at a loss as to what to do.

“And I know something you don't.” Sakura felt her muscles tense. “That man, the one in your barracks with the red hair, he's the one who destroyed your city, before it was just a backwater village.” The man grinned a sharp, sure grin, but all Sakura could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief. He didn't know - any of it.

“Yes. Sasori. I know who he is.”

The man blinked. “You know, but-” He cut off his own sentence, clearly confused.

Sakura laughed. It was hollow and unsettling, but all she could think to do. She wrenched her arm away from the man's and turned on her heel to walk out the way they came.

“If you think that is news to me, then perhaps you need to come up with something a little more… enticing.”

She left him there, still confused and unsure as she pushed past his men and slipped into the crowd flowing out of the building.

Yeah. It's been awhile. In my defence, there was a disclaimer.

So not too much. Romans did have three meals a day: breakfast (ientaculum); lunch (prandium); dinner (cena). Quality depended on social class and leftovers were often eaten for lunch, so not very different from today except for the large quantities of processed sugar.

And Romans had relatively concrete knowledge of medical stuff. Most of it learnt from the Greeks which explains why Moegi knew about muscles and the like. And if you hadn't already guessed, stab wounds don't usually heal in a day…

Itachi has a staff. It's not a traditional Roman weapon, but I feel like it fits his character/abilities. There were no swords during this period that mirror the size of Kisame’s (or Zabuza’s) sword as they were mostly developed from the 14th century onwards like the claymore - the most common, largest sword in Rome was the spatha, less than a meter long. Although, the style I'm thinking of is more Japanese, like the odachi (the largest surviving one is called the Norimitsu Odachi and is 377cm long and 14.5kg - or about 12.4’ and 32lbs). It's a big sword for a big man. You can probably guess what Deidara’s sword is so I'll leave that for later.

“And mine is Sakura. It’s a pleasure.” She looked around the forge. It was large and cluttered, but well used and well loved, clearly somewhere people cared for their work. Half-forged weapons and armour lay on every surface, but none looked abandoned, and of what Sakura could see of the work, it was masterfully done. It was no wonder that Tenten, and her master (for a smith no matter how talented could not own a forge so young) had a job at such a prestigious place. Creating the equipment for the gladiators of Rome, some of their most prolific fighters, would have quite a reputation. But, Tenten was the only smith in the building and that blade on the bench had the marks of one freshly tempered and the forge still hot. That spoke volumes.

“You do impressive work.” Sakura looked back towards Tenten. “Where did you learn your skill?”

Tenten let a chuckle. “Well, it’s a pleasant surprise for someone to think it’s my work and not my father’s, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate the compliment. Yes. some of these are mine and as my father is currently boozing it up in the country for the week, I hope you don’t mind that yours will just have to be part of the collection.” She turned and gestured for Sakura and Genma to follow her further inside. “I have to take your measurements and an idea of your combat style before I begin.”

Sakura began to follow, but a glance at the strange man still passed out on the wall made her pause. “Should we not…”

“Ah, don’t worry about Lee. He’ll come ‘round soon enough.” Tenten cleared off a bench in the back of the room and whipped out a measuring tape. “Stand tall and spread your arms out.”

Sakura stood as told while Genma headed over to recline on a chair. It was a wonder he was so relaxed all the time.

“Well, Sakura. About five and a half pes, you’re surprisingly tall for a woman.”

“Good thing,” said Genma as he crunched into an apple that had miraculously appeared from nowhere. “I like my women tall.”

“Don't we all Genma,” muttered Tenten. “Don't we all.”

Sakura, personally, was taking this conversation very... well... personally.

Tenten continued. “Wingspan is about the same. I’ve gotta say, nice proportions. And good measurements on the waist. You’re fit, but not too fit.” Tenten moved onto the smaller measurements. “I can’t tell you how many men I have to measure armour for, and their body muscle is way out of line. Too much of it and it’s gonna hinder more than help.” She scribbled down the last of her notes on a piece of paper and rolled up the measuring tape. “I’m glad to see that you’ve got the brains to match your brawn.”

“I could’ve have told you that,” said Genma around a mouth full of apple. “You should have seen the way she wiped the floor with Hidan, and those Demon Brothers this morning certainly didn’t hold a candle.”

“Well nobody claimed those guys were too bright, not that I’ve seen many sparks in the gladiator school.” Tenten moved over to a rack of weapons on the wall. “Any of these your preference in fighting?”

“A graecus, and an axe is a close second. If possible, I dual-wield them.”

“Dual-wielding, and an axe for half of it? I have to say I didn’t believe everything I’d heard from your fight, but the axe was certainly not the part I would have thought to be true.” She searched through her collection before grabbing a variety of graecus and axes and loading them onto the table. “Any of those fit your style? I’m sorry to say but I don’t think there’s any chance of retrieving the ones you’re familiar with, so it’s either one of these or I forge a new one.”

Sakura shifted through the pile, choosing and discarding. “No matter; they may have been familiar, well worn, comfortable, but they were nothing special and of low quality. It will be nice to have one that fits my grip and balance better.”

Finally, only a few weapons lay remaining on the table, the rest back on the rack. Tenten perused them carefully. “I see for the sword you favour a thinner blade, with a more than average length for your height. Better for your reach but only when you’re trained to accommodate it. It’s a good way to even out the balance but it’s still heavier than on average. As for the axe… you clearly prefer them double-bladed, but oddly enough, you like them shorter. I’m guessing to pair better with your sword in combat.”

Sakura blinked in surprise. “I never thought about it that way, but I suppose you’re right. I had often just used weapons that felt right but I had never considered why they did.”

“So,” Tenten said. “You like to use both sword and axe, but the reach has to even out more and the blades themselves thinner for manoeuvrability. Now, pick up those on the table and tell me which ones are most comfortable and balanced to you.”

Sakura reached hesitantly for one of the graecus and settled into a stance. After a few forms she could tell that the balance was not far off, but the grip was all wrong. Her sword now discarded in Suna was no masterpiece but even its hilt was better than this. She placed it down and picked up another. A better grip but much too heavy. The next was too light. Sakura ran through all the swords and axes on the table, but the result was much the same. They had promise but none could make her feel comfortable without learning how to fight around their faults. She turned back to face Tenten and conveyed her findings as Genma, now finished with his apple, dug the seeds out of the core and threw them into a pot. He was studiously ignored by both women.

“Ah.” Tenten did not look surprised. “I have to say, the chance of one of these suiting you was very low. They all have been forged for men, their hilts too large and the blades themselves too unwieldy and, even then, none for the same fighting style as you either. Where did you learn something for which the weapons were so specific?”

“It was just what came naturally. The sword was my first weapon, and the axe was one that I had to be comfortable with. When there's no swords around you have to make do.”

“I can see that you're ambidextrous. Was that a habit of necessity too?”

Sakura looked at the sword and the axe currently in her grip and with a quick flick of her wrists swapped them over. She flexed her fingers. “I've always practiced with either hand. If I wasn't ambidextrous when I first started, then I certainly am now, but not of necessity, it was just what was done.”

Genma whistled. “Anything else we should know about your skill set?”

“I am practiced enough in most other forms, but nowhere near as proficient. Make no mistake, I can use any of these swords and axes but if it’s comfort that you are after, they don’t suit me at all.” Sakura lowered the weapons and placed them back on the table. “Was there anything else you wished to know, Tenten?”

“Just your armour.” Tenten removed the weapons until the table was clear once more. “I assume you will need a cuirass as we have none for your… measurements, but if there are other parts that fit you well enough, I would recommend using them for now. The more we have to make, the longer it will take.”

“I have no comparison for such knowledge, so I will have to take you for your word,” said Sakura.

Genma stood up abruptly. “As nice as it was to see you again, Tenten, dear Sakura here has a couple of places she needs to be, and it seems like you have a fair few tasks on your hands.”

“My pleasure,” Tenten said dryly. “I’ll have the items sent to you when completed. It should take about a week. And who knows, maybe if Sakura performs well in the colosseum, I’ll see her again; most of the more famous gladiators get to look a little flashier when they perform.”

Sakura inclined her head and followed Genma out of the forge, and as they turned the corner, they heard the unmistakable sound of what must have been Lee stirring from his position on the floor and lamenting to Tenten of “missing the beautiful blossom.”

All Sakura could think was that Romans were strange. But then again, maybe Lee was an oddity.

Sakura was wrong. In front of her stood a man who resembled Lee in clothes, eyebrows, and haircut. And given the tears currently streaming down his face, their personalities were worryingly similar.

“Sakura, this is Might Gai, one of our doctores, trainers.” Genma smiled. “You have already met his charge, Rock Lee.”

Gai knelt in front of her, her hands clasped in front of him and sparkles shining from his eyes. “The power of youth is flowing from your eyes!”

Sakura erred on the side of caution. “It is… nice to make your acquaintance”

He gasped, the volume of glittering tears increased. “Such a soothing voice and such wonderful diction. To be in your presence is an honour.”

“Hey, hey, Gai. You don’t want to scare the girl.” The man with a shock of silver hair yanked Gai up with the back of his shirt.

“Youthful rival! There is no need to worry! I was being nothing but a perfect gentleman!”

“Glad to see you’re on time today, Kakashi. I wouldn’t want to have to track you down.”

“Sure, Genma. Lucky for you I didn’t have anywhere else to be except to see the novelty.” Kakashi turned his gaze to Sakura. “I take it this is our most recently enslaved gladiator.”

His eyes were piercing. Suddenly, the past few hours of joviality washed away and memories of the last few weeks crashed down on her. Why she was here, the carnage in Suna, her kids. It was difficult to breathe. Kakashi’s eyes creased and his mask curved into a smile. The feeling passed.

Shakely, Sakura composed herself and took a few calming breaths. This was serious, this was Rome.

“Yes,” she said with gentle apathy. “It is my understanding that I am here for an evaluation.”

Genma side-eyed her but didn’t mention anything, while Kakashi simply let the smile drop.

“Yes,” Genma said, the confusion apparent in his voice. “This is Kakashi Hatake, another of our doctores. We should be meeting the last one, Yamato, soon. They are some of the most senior of the doctores and will oversee your training.”

Kakashi turned on his heel and walked into the yard. “Come on. We don’t want to keep Yamato waiting now, do we?”

Gai hurried after him and Sakura followed. She could feel Genma’s curious stare, but she kept her back straight and her stride controlled. These were Romans. They were not companions, or friends, or safe; for all she knew she had already told them too much of her past, things they could use against her. She was a slave and she needed to be much, much more careful.

Sakura joined the men in the middle of the small training yard, it was empty except for her guard and the three trainers. A private audience then.

Kakashi walked over to the rack of weapons on the wall, he took down a sword and a shield and tossed them to Sakura. Lucky for her she caught them without fumbling, this was no time to look the fool.

“Good reflexes,” said the other man, Yamato she presumed. “But we don’t generally try to injure our gladiators before they’re trained.”

“Hey, she caught them, didn’t she?” Kakashi flapped his hand. “No harm, no foul.”

Gai cut in with overwhelming enthusiasm. “But that is no way to treat a lady, especially one as beautiful as Sakura here! Where is your pride as a man?!”

Kakashi took down another sword and shield. “My pride is on hold. Right now I need to test our newest gladiator.” He rushed towards her.

As Genma, Gai, and Yamato stepped to the sides, all Sakura could focus on was the speed at which Kakashi swung down his sword. She felt years of training kick in and threw her shield up to block the strike before rolling to the side to avoid his next attack. The shield itself was too large, too Roman, and at this point more hindrance than help. She threw it to the side.

Kakashi tutted. “Are you sure you wanted to do that? Throw away your only form of protection?”

“My sword is protection enough.” Sakura crouched down and watched as Kakashi’s eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” he said. “But don’t be offended if I keep mine.”

He rushed her again and this time Sakura parried the blow and skittered backwards to create more space. This man trained gladiators and she had no knowledge of his skills while he had likely heard, maybe even seen her fights since she’d been here. For all she knew, he had given her the shield knowing she would throw it aside. This wasn’t about proving herself by winning a fight, this was about playing it safe.

He came at her again and Sakura blocked. Again, and again Kakashi tried to land a blow and every time she studied his movements and either dodged or stopped the sword itself. But to her amazement, he did not tire nor become aggravated. This was certainly not another Hidan.

Suddenly, he stopped. Sakura watched him carefully.

“You have good technique,” Kakashi said. “But you’re too cautious and didn’t take advantage of any of the opportunities I gave you. You fight too clean and that’s not going to help you in the colosseum.”

Quickly, he threw his shield at her and as she scrambled out the way, he was in her face, tossing dirt in her eyes and body checking her into the ground. As she blinked the grime out of her vision, Kakashi stood over her, sword at her throat.

“The people like excitement, and if you spend too long avoiding your opponent, you won’t die by their hand, but the crowd might just get you killed.”

Sakura stared at him and jolted into action. She used her sword to knock his aside, the blade just nicking her skin, and swept her legs under his. As Kakashi fell, Sakura rose and pinned his body against the ground, her sword now resting on his throat. He blinked, eyes wide.

“You wanted flare. For me to play dirty. Does this measure up?”

Behind her she could hear Gai waxing on about passion and youthfulness as beneath her, her blood dripped from her heaving throat onto Kakashi’s face. To her surprise, he smiled.

“Yes,” he said. “This is exactly what I want.”

Kimimaro watched the morning’s events with detached interest. The woman was certainly more trouble than she was worth but not an idiot. The fight was concise, well thought out and while the idiots around him cheered as blood splattered the floor, Kimimaro ran over what he knew of her. She had come in with the newest African slaves, a failed assimilation of a small town called Suna, no doubt due to the idiocy of those military dogs.

She had helped during an ambush and instead of killing her, the Emperor had found it fit to parade her in front of the masses. If he was of interest to him, she could be used; the question was how malleable she was. His meeting with the messenger would decide what should be done. Kimimaro looked to Sasori seated at the same table as the girl. She had no idea she was in the presence of another Suna gladiator yet clearly, based on the way he looked at her, he did. Perhaps something here could be exploited.

When the commotion calmed down and gladiators began to leave the hall, Kimimaro and his barracks went to their training ground. He sat in the shadows talking to a man before joining the rest in training. His master would give him orders, all he had to do now was wait.

As Sakura lay on that prickly straw mattress in that tiny cell, she couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her face. Her life was, effectively, no longer her own and the most she could do was hold back her sobs and sleep to fight another day.

Hey. So. The pes is a unit of measurement from Ancient Rome. It’s similar to the Imperial measure of a foot, averaging at about 29.6cm per pes. Sakura is about 5.6 pes which is about 165cm, or 5’5”. Now, the average height of woman around Roman times was about 155cm (they measured corpses for this) a good 4” shorter than Sakura. If you’re curious, the average on men was 168cm so yeah, Sakura’s fairly tall.

Other than that, saying her new weapons will take about a week is about right as the Roman Empire while growing needed a frequent intake of weapons and armour for the new soldiers they gained in conquered countries, especially for uniform requirements, not just general weaponry. A Roman blacksmith was capable of forging a few rough blades a day which would then be grinded and finished in the next few. Dress swords and fancy-pants armour would take a little longer for officers and other “important” officials. In other countries around the world, i.e. Japan, the swords would likely take a fair bit longer as they actually cared about the craftsmanship and quality rather than just churning them out.

The staff at a gladiator school included trainers. Usually when a new recruit, or novicius, was introduced they would be assessed by a doctor, called a medici, for health, and their fighting style and capability would be overseen by the trainers, called doctores. They were often former gladiators themselves and specialised in certain types of combat. Together these two groups were called a lanista. They would also accept the gladiator based on physical appeal as they only wanted attractive fighters. I’ve sort of smushed Tenten into the medici role as Sakura is a slave and therefore already required to fight and her injuries were already checked out by Moegi.