project: chasing dragons
dedication: to Les, of course; this will be awesome. (And to Briony, of course, because she's just amazing.)
BrionyNotes: I am so bad at this short-drabble thing. ;D
LesNotes: I just have to say that I am so honored to write with this girl. Cheers~
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ASYLUM is many things.
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ASYLUM is beautiful.
It was painfully, achingly beautiful — as sweet and as enchanting as the soft, sorrowful song of a caged bird; as mysterious and dark as the shadows themselves; as fantastical as a child's bedtime dream. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, only a few clouds marring an otherwise spotless canvas; the scent of honey hung in the air, thick and heavy above the emerald grass below. Other than an old oak tree, its branches twisted and darkened with age, the field was empty; it was simply an expanse of beautiful nothing — of blue seeping into green, like painting dripping down a canvas. A dragonfly fluttered through the air, its wings shimmering a kaleidoscope of pale colours as it flew, and her eyes traced it's pathway in wonder.
Stood in the middle of the field, Haruno Sakura breathed out a long, soft sigh, her hands — clad in faded, red gloves — bunching up the petticoats of her dress, as she stood. For a few moments, she simply stood there, her chin tilted up to the sky, her eyes closed. A slight wind picked up, tugging playfully at her hair; her dress billowed, blossoming like the petals of a rose, but she made no effort to push the petticoats down.
Instead, she simply stood there, her mind blank, simply being.
Everything was so intricate, so detailed, so beautiful, that she could not help but look; and she had to look hard, if she wanted to see every little detail. If she wanted to see the butterfly, with the wings so pale, you could see through them, land upon a violet-spotted flower — if she wanted to see the man with the antlers stood graze at the edge of the field, before disappearing into the distance — if she wanted to see the honeydragons buzz through the air, wings humming as they danced among the clouds. It was such a magical, fantastical place — oh, if there was one thing she truly loved about this world, it was its beauty.
She sat down, then, her fists curling within the grass, her legs — clad in black-and-white stockings — sticking out in front of her. Wriggling her fingers, she tipped her head back again, hair tickling the bare of her back, and let out a content sigh. This world — this game, she corrected, for that was what this world was; part of a game — could be so peaceful, sometimes—
A shadow fell over her, and she winced, opening one eye. She saw orange — bright, bright orange, like the colour of the sun — and black; black suit trousers and a loosened black tie, complete with a crumpled black jacket, tied around his waist. Vivid blue eyes stared out at her from beneath messy blond hair — it stuck up here and there, frantic; it was almost, perhaps, as frenzied as the two shaggy ears that stuck out from his head — they stood straight up, as if standing to attention, and twitched slightly as he gazed at her.
A huge grin spread across his face.
"Naruto," she greeted, closing her eyes again and hoping he wouldn't jump on her again; the last time he had, she'd ended up with mud streaked all down the back of her dress and, as a result, he'd ended up with a black eye.
"Sak—ooh—rah!"
She winced at the way he butchered her name — the way he drew out the last syllable, until it sounded like a cry of pain instead of her name —, but couldn't help herself from grinning anyway; it was so like Naruto. And when his arms wrapped around her waist, as he launched himself at her, she wasn't even the slightest bit surprised — not even when she found herself lying flat on her back, her hands placed against his chest as he straddled her, still grinning like a maniac.
"Get off me, you oaf," she replied, but a tell-tale smile slipped across her face, "It's nice to see you too."
"You know you shouldn't just be sittin' out here, Sakura," he said, his brow furrowing, pouting slightly as he attempted to look stern, "I mean, I got myself all hurt and stuff just tryin' to find you!"
With that, he pulled up his sleeve, revealing his arm to her; a long, thin gash ran zig-zag down it, and his skin had turned awfully pale. She found herself rapidly paling too — the sight of blood had yet to become familiar to her, and she still wasn't used to the jovial way everyone treated injuries in this place —, and she blinked up at him, with wide eyes. "Why didn't you show me before?"
"I was too happy to see you," Naruto grinned, before shrugging, "'sides, I've still got plenty of Health — it takes a lot to kill the March Hare, after all."
"You need to be more careful," Sakura scolded, but he simply shrugged, attempting to pull his arm away — she gripped it firmly, fixing him with a pointed glare. "Hold still, you idiot, I'm trying to help."
"Ouch, quit it, Sakura, that hurts—"
"It's going to hurt, if you keep struggling—"
"Stop pinching—"
She ignored him after that, twisting his arm in a way that had to be uncomfortable — he let out an indignant yelp, screwing up his nose in a way that would be cute if it weren't for the fact that she was so furious at him —, and held her left palm over the wound. After a few seconds of concentrating, her palm began to glow pale, translucent green; she watched, with a mixture of curiosity and pride, as the wound began to heal. Muscle grew, skin knitted itself back together, a scar vanished — all that was left was a silvery circle where the injury had been, and even that began to fade.
She noticed Naruto gazing down at his arm in fascination; she pulled her hand away, letting go of his arm and feeling ever so slightly guilty; he looked so grateful, after all, with his eyes wide and his grin even wider. This was becoming routine, she realised; she'd come to expect him, to expect the injuries, and that frightened her. He was her only friend in the Game; the only one she could trust, the only one who would fight beside her — the only person who would gladly die for her; and that scared her more than anything else.
"Stop getting hurt over me, idiot," and she was frightened to find herself whispering — frightened to feel a lump build at her throat — frightened to feel red-hot tears prick at her eyes. "Just stop it, okay?"
"Ah, Sakura-chan, I will, I promise! Just please don't cry!"
She felt his arms wrap around her then, and she buried her head against his chest, willing herself not to cry; sometimes, the Game felt so real, it became so scary.
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ASYLUM is dangerous.
will you lose yourself?
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