Well, I've had this idea for a while, and I began writing after convincing myself that it would be nice to actually have a chapter-story. Of course, I could easily continue OOFAS, however I feel as though my inspiration for that story has dissipated.
I usually despise Sasuke Uchiha, however lately I've been reading some SasuSaku fanfics, and I couldn't help but tap back into the vibe.
Hopefully, I won't publish the next one on the site until I have at least the next four chapters written. I'm planning on updating once a month or once a week – still haven't decided.
Disclaimer ((Stands for this entire story, and so I will not repeat this.)): I do not own Naruto ©. Its rightful owner and artist is Masashi Kishimoto.
This is merely an introduction, or a prologue of some sorts. The main idea is that Sakura is unconditionally in love with Sasuke, however it seems that he outright despises her. This'll be angsty and very depressing, however I am still not determined if it will result in a SasuSaku or another pairing. I'd put up a poll, however not many visit my profile, and so, please include what pairing you might want in your reviews.
I may or may not go by the amount of votes. Of course, you don't have to vote on this chapter; I suggest you wait for the next couple of entries.
Pointless Emotion – Normal
Pointless Emotion – Flashback
Pointless Emotion – Writing
"They say that falling for you is my biggest mistake, but how can it be so wrong if it feels so right?" Unknown
It was warm out, with some refreshing breezes every now and then to rustle the tall, strong oak trees of Konoha High. In the large building sounded the bell, calling for the students to witness the last class of the day. Paying said bell no heed, a group of tall seniors walked out of the east side of the grand school and strode to the main gate up north. They easily chatted, not caring in the slightest if teachers caught them; no one dared to cross their path. The Akatsuki made it tradition every Friday to skip last period and make their way to Kakuzu's place before hitting downtown.
Hidan was loudly informing them that he absolutely knew the bouncer at this new club a few miles out of town when Sasori caught the faint sound of rapid breathing. It wasn't crying, per se; it was more of a choking sound. He immediately started to look for the source and a few moments later, he found it.
There was a young teen, probably a freshman, leaning against the stone wall beside the school entrance. She was very petite and had strikingly bright, pink hair. His group of friends seemed to have also detected the hyperventilating girl, since they had stopped their march to the gates and were currently staring at the poor thing. She was all alone, with the exception of her faded gray messenger bag that seemed to be attacked with colorful buttons of all sizes. Feeling as though this girl wasn't just getting over a bad grade, the pulchritudinous redhead swiftly approached the female.
Upon reaching her, he realized that she still had to look his way, or to at least show that she was aware of his presence. Sasori moved in front of her in order to be in her line of sight, "Hey," he began, though he stopped when he noticed something. She was staring right at him, though it felt like she was looking right through him; she was seeing everything but nothing. What was wrong with this girl?
"Hey," he started again, this time he gripped her shoulders, "hey, are you alright?"
No reaction. He shook her gently, and attempted to speak to her again.
Still no reaction. Sasori was contemplating hitting her when her lips began to move, but no sound came out. She let out raspy whispers, fragments of words. Gradually the sound became louder, clearer.
"A-an-annoying..," the senior almost blew up on her before he realized that she wasn't talking to him, "w-worthless – he said – and I..," suddenly, green topaz that reminded him of the necklace his grandmother refused to wear locked onto his brown orbs. Everything was silent and her body went rigid, until she began to shiver under his fingers. Her lower lip started to tremble erratically and she burst into tears. Being the ultimate sucker for crying girls, the redhead pulled her to him and allowed her to find the crook of his neck.
Some minutes later, when the gang had agreed to meet him at the rendezvous point later, only Sasori and Deidara remained, and the girl was clutching onto the former like a lifeline as her sobs racked her body mercilessly. Deidara had identified her as his classmate from Calculus; Sakura Haruno. She was a freshman that was advanced highly in mathematics, and pretty much everything else. She was a straight-A student, yet here she was, ditching last period.
When the crying subsided, the pinkette retreated awkwardly from the redhead's arms. She was blushing to her hair tips, and began to fiddle with her hands after removing them from his shirt.
"Are you okay now, hm?" the blond asked curiously, eyebrow raised as he cocked his head to the side slightly.
The freshman nodded slowly as she squeaked out a positive reply. They asked her if she knew where she was, and for her name, which she replied to effortlessly. When she took in some deep breaths, and seemed to regain her senses, she looked up at the pair of young men who had selflessly cared for her and immediately began to apologize sincerely. Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears of remorse as she offered to do them a favor. Sasori politely refused, though Deidara actually took up on her offer. The blond brushed off his friend's ferocious glare as the girl asked him what he desired her to do for him.
"Just an explanation, hm. What was that all about?" he asked experimentally, leaning casually against the stone wall she was occupying mere moments ago. Sakura's eyes widened, though her eyebrows gradually pulled together and the edges of her lips pulled downwards as she mulled over the thought of telling the truth. They didn't seem to be the gossip-type, however she did not know them, either and so could not fully trust them. There was no way of determining whether they would actually hear her out and help or outright laugh.
Although her mind entirely agreed with that and made it official that it was for the best that she keep quiet, her heart begged to differ. She desperately needed someone to listen, and she felt that her journal most likely loathed her from the heaps of complaints she threw at it and the intensity of which she stabbed it with her writing utensil.
You owe him the favor, anyways, her second soul crooned, apparently pushed to the edge from receiving a similar fate as the journal. As usual, Sakura chose heart over head; something she repeatedly regretted, though she had herself convinced that it was the right thing to do. And that the rush is totally worth it every time.
"I.. there's this..," Sakura pondered momentarily over if she should disclose the identity of the source of her heart-wrenching troubles, "there's this guy," she began again, with more courage after being convinced to keep his name a secret. "And I'm totally into him, like, not just an attraction; I really think that it's full-blown obsession. I do my best to please him; I offer to carry his books, listen to his every command... But – But he just doesn't see me in the same way. Heck, he outright hates me," she allowed a hollow chortle escape her lips as her hands found their way to the strap of her bag, and clutched tightly.
"I try to impress him – so hard. Just to get him to look my way, but everything I've ever tried was fruitless. He's going to snap at me one day; of that I am completely sure. Though I can't bring myself to care. Sometimes – and lately – I consider –" She stopped abruptly, her knuckles turning a sickly white from the vehement grip. She snapped her eyes shut, the top half of her face becoming crinkly from how hard.
They didn't pressure her into finishing, despite the growing curiosity burning inside them. Once again, Sakura apologized for ranting when she felt a warm hand settle on her shoulder. It was Deidara Bakuhatsu from one of her advanced classes.
"You don't have to apologize for anything, hm. In fact, I'm sorry that you have to go through this with some prick. Who is this guy anyways, hm?" Sasori saw the struggling expression playing over her features and concluded that she wasn't comfortable with disclosing that bit of information with people she barely knew, and he didn't blame her, either.
"It's alright, you don't have to say," the handsome teen drew in a deep breath and stole a glance at his watch, "I'm Sasori, by the way. Listen, you should get to class if you're feeling better," she obediently nodded and reached out to shake his hand and thank him for the nth time. He noticed with amusement that she hadn't pressed onto why theyweren't in class as he watched her go up the steps. After she had disappeared into the school, Deidara saw it fit to comment on the girl.
"She's cute, hm. I don't get why she has to try so hard to be noticed – by a guy no less, hm," he ran a hand through his long blond locks as he put them back into his signature half-ponytail. Sasori merely grunted in response and turned to leave. Then the blond moved to follow and, surprisingly, his left foot stepped on something hard. Expecting a large rock, he looked down to see a notebook. The young artist reached for the item strewn on the ground and realized that this was not a notebook, but a diary of some sorts.
"Hey, Danna! Check this out, hm," he called. Partially annoyed, said master turned to see just what had the kid all worked up.
"What do you want, brat?" He watched Deidara open some notebook and take a peek. Thumbing through some pages, a pair of smoky blue eyes naturally ringed in black widened. Of course, this sparked Sasori's curiosity. Nearing the hunched over senior, he snatched the book from his hands.
Not at all surprised by his actions, Deidara was quick to explain, "I think that's her journal, hm."
~#
The majority of the class let out sounds of relief and joy as the bell sounded magnificently throughout the hellhole. Kakashi packed his things and sped out of the class. It was the end of the first quarter, and so everyone was taking exams. Since many people liked bringing papers, notebooks and books to review with before the test, the teacher's desk was cluttered with said items from when the teacher would gather them before the exam. Not being one to actually care, Kakashi usually just left the annoying imbeciles to find their own stuff.
Everyone had finished the exam a little over ten minutes ago, and a secretary came by to collect the packets. With everything he needed in his bag, Naruto Uzumaki removed himself from his seat to catch up with his friends and was almost out the door when someone called for him softly. Turning around, he was met with the sight of one Sakura Haruno, she was in his History class. He didn't know much, but she was polite and quiet, and so he had no problems with her.
She was standing awkwardly at the teacher's desk, two thick History books on it. Leaning against the doorway, he asked her what she wanted.
"W-would you mind opening this book for me?"
He walked over to her and smirked a bit, "why don't you do it?" he thought that she was merely trying to pull something, though her expression didn't back that up very well.
"Sasuke-kun didn't leave with his book, and one of these is mine, as well. I would take mine and leave, though I'm not sure of which I should leave with. And I can't just randomly open one; Sasuke-kun doesn't like it when I touch his things," she explained in all honesty, looking up at him with pleading emeralds.
Silently congratulating the girl for being the most loyal fangirl, and easily person, he had ever laid his eyes on, Naruto opened the first book and they both recognized the scratchy black signature of one Sasuke Uchiha. Swiping the other book, she thanked him sincerely and apologized for wasting his time before she smiled kindly and left.
Staring at his best friend's book between his hands, he wondered if Sasuke knew what he had.
~#
Sasori hadn't been able to keep his mind off of the girl's journal.
The group dined at a four-star Italian restaurant that evening; they had joked and laughed – Hidan was even slapped by the waitress for looking up her skirt – though nothing succeeded in distracting him. His thoughts stubbornly wandered to what would be inside the notebook despite his reasoning that it was none of his business. That it didn't involve him. Nothing worked, however, and it resulted with him being extremely tense and he felt pressured; he had to get his hands on it.
This was unusual for the stoic redhead, for he was usually berating everyone around him for being nosy, though this time it could not be helped. The source of his stress was with Deidara – he had insisted to return it to the girl on Monday since he was the one who found it.
After putting much thought into it, Sasori made up his mind. When Deidara comes out of the bathroom, he decided, he'd convince him into reading it. After hearing the rush of water in the sink and the tell-tale sound of brushing teeth, said blond roommate padded out of the shared bathroom of the two-bedroom apartment with a black T-shirt and flannel bermudas that were, once upon a time, full length before he had to grudgingly cut it off when clay stuck to the bottom.
"Where's your bag?" Sasori questioned from his seat on the couch in the TV room. He silently jerked his head towards his room as he tied the thick strands of blond hair back into a loose ponytail practical for sleep. With his bang out of the way, his features were sharper and seemed more masculine; another reason as to why he usually put his hair up when trying to impress someone or when he was at a party.
"You're really not considering reading Sakura's diary, right, Danna, hm?" Deidara had an unbelieving look on his face.
"Don't try to lie to me and tell me that it hasn't been bothering you, either," Sasori scowled, not wanting to have this conversation, "just bring it, brat." Deidara sighed, knowing that his friend wouldn't appreciate being kept waiting, and left to retrieve the girl's personal notebook.
Seating himself comfortably on the sofa with the prize in his hands, the young sculptor opened it to the first page. The first ten entries were about three years ago, and mere bits and pieces of her life; nothing exciting other than the fact that her parents seemed to have divorced. Her father had gained custody, and soon after – about a month later – her biological mother committed suicide. By the fourth entry she began to call her father by his first name, Roka. And by the seventh entry, she had gotten a new step-mother.
It was your average broken family, until the twelfth entry. Most of the time, she would write in paragraphs, sorting out all her emotions that no one had time to care about. Though, on this particular account, she began with one sentence. A sentence that easily sparked the interest of the two nosy teens.
&^%
October 14th, 2005
I am in love with Uchiha Sasuke.
At first, I brushed it off as an attraction – guys and gals alike line up for his attention. His features are sharp, cold, and mysterious. He is too intriguing, and few can resist.
However as time passed, I realized that the erratic thumping of my heart when he steps into the room, the heat rising to my cheeks when he merely looks over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall, and the tightening of my chest when I hear his voice can not be merely classified as a crush.
Whenever I am in a ten-foot radius of him I feel like everything is spinning – like I'm suddenly caught in a whirlpool – where everything in stretched and begins to whirl around me abnormally, excluding him. It feels like he is the lifeline to pull me out of this insanity.
This is so, so wrong. I'm merely an eighth grader – how can I be in love?
And I ask myself – almost every hour, now – if he even knew that I existed, let alone obsessed over him. I feel like a nosy stalker. Like someone rudely interfering with his life. I have not done anything to prove this, though the temptations in my mind easily would.
I'm on the brink of failing. Hatake-sensei spoke to me of it yesterday.
What was I to tell him?
That I actually spent hours in my room with books and papers surrounding me as I attempt to study when his face suddenly appears in my mind? That his signature smirk causes me to break down in tears because, goddammit, I know that it'll never happen?
Of course not. So I did what anyone would do: lie. And lie I did. The most unconvincing lie that I have ever heard. Though he had not pressed on further.
Roka noticed my lack in attention – which is why I'm currently grounded. Not that I'm complaining; this means that I don't have to watch while he practically finger-fucks his wife – personal whore – every other minute.
Now that I have more time to myself, I try to actually get work done, but I keep seeing his face. I keep hearing his voice.
I just can't do this. I have to make him notice me.
But how? It's so much easier said than done. I think he hates me.
No. No, I know he hates me. It's obvious when he sneers at me, or when I merely stand near him in line at the cafeteria. It oozes off his aura like waves.
Waves that I am drowning in.
&^%
