title: lawn knives
disclaimer: disclaimed.
n1: dedicated to Stover and frangasmic and applebugs for all their wonderful words.
n2: rube goldberg. i wish you'd never invented those stupid machines. argh, fanfiction. won't let me space shit out. so now, instead of my attempt-at-cool-spacing you get periods. joy.
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/"I can't do this...can I?/" Hinata? It's nothing-; please, go and get some rest./ "I'll just throw it in the trash. It won't do any harm there. Yeah, it can't hurt anyone there…"/
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When I saw it around, I ignored it. Until the exact moment my hatred boiled over. It's never good to hold in your feelings- don't I know that now. But, I was always better at helping others than helping myself. I was so unselfish that I began the most selfish person I'd ever known.
Though, I'm not sorry.
You really did deserve it.
and so did you- and you- and me.
We all deserved it. playing god's just not going to fly when it comes to living your life and ending your life-andtakingandstealingandjust- forget it. We don't need to be told any of this shit- we already fucking know don't we?
Perhaps the four of us... we just had a moment...fuck. I fucked up. I had a moment.
I started this.
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i: LAWN KNIVES
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It was a small doll, nothing too unusual or out of the ordinary. Straw body, a bright string scarf and a pair of beady black eyes. She weighed it in her hands; hard to believe that this, this small little child's plaything, has the potential to damn someone's eternal soul. But suppose found it did, suppose that if she were to pull the string that the object of her hatred would vanish, without a trace, without a sound, only to be seen again after they'd both tangled with Death/.
What if?
Sakura sat in the small space that she had allotted to her desktop along with her textbooks, rolling the straw toy between her elegant fingers, her eyes trained onto the glare of her lit screen.
She hadn't meant anything by going onto the site, honestly, she really hadn't. She might have been angry and confused yes-of course-she saw red, but she wasn't a psychopath. Sakura didn't want anything to do with this.
Not this. Not that. Not the doll.
Though, perhaps to an extent she was aware of this. She couldn't have been completely ignorant to the chills that had run up her spine as she first heard of the web address, or of the aura so cold that it brushed her cheek as she accessed the site. Oh, Sakura knew, she had to know. The girl was simply a manifestation of that knowledge.
Damn; she didn't want this. Not a single strand of it. Forget her expectations for this. Forget what she'd thought might happen or what might never happen, or what grey area may lay in-between-Sakura was more focused on why the girl had believed her to desperate to confine of a particular soul to utter damnnation.
The door opened slightly, sending light into the otherwise near black room and a head poked in. Sakura hid the doll behind her back. She didn't know who it was, but honestly, it didn't really matter. Anyone who came, whether it was for a question, to tell her to sleep, anyone at all, and saw that doll would ask questions. Questions that she did not want to hear.
Pale green eyes flicked up to the door, nervous and anxious at first, but they calmed as she saw that it was only Hinata. The light reflected off the sleek violet of the nervous young woman, lighting up her pale skin. Her voice was soft and her unnerved eyes averted away from Sakura, [could she see that something was the matter? Sakura certainly could] she had merely come to request that the pink haired girl get some sleep.
They did have class in the morning after all.
A brief thanks was given and she had to work to turn off her computer while keeping the straw toy behind her back as Hinata was, and still, standing in her doorframe. The blue-tinged-grey light faded from the room, leaving only a small red dot to flicker and leave a halo of color on the wall opposite it.
A small good night came from Hinata's lips and the door began to close, and close, and close until only a small sliver of light could be seen from inside the room. This light, although it was small, illuminated the path it carved, the path over Sakura's eyes and the doll she currently held over her face.
She should feel scared; terrified and disturbed that she potentially carried the fate of someone's soul in her hands. Afraid of the consequences of taking a divine decision into her own hands if she were to lose her good will and common sense.
But, in all reality, she didn't. She didn't fear the repercussion of divine judgment, no-no-no-no, what she feared was why she wanted to do it. Sakura had never felt the urge to cause someone pain, to snatch their hopes and dreams from beneath their feet.
At least, not until now.
Her fingers closed around the doll, pulling it to her chest, feeling the prickle of the straw prod into her chest. It stung slightly, just slightly and as Sakura felt her green eyes slipping into slumber, the prickles dug deeper into her.
A small drip of crimson fell from the deep stab.
[she's sorry].
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.[or she will be]
The morning. It wasn't anything new, at least it shouldn't have been. But it was. Sunrise stank with the fumes of a grim novelty of the day and as Sakura awoke, her nose crinkled, confused as to why her skin was crawling. The small red dot of her computer power sign flickered on the opposite wall, appearing and reappearing and she chose to ignore the red while her she took in her surroundings. Her green walls surrounded the soft mass of purples and blues that made up her bed and blankets. Littered across the floor were various styles and sizes of shoes while a silk jacket sat carelessly on the back of her chair. Ino's makeup still lined all the surfaces near or attached to a mirror.
Nothing had changed.
So why did her brain expect to see the walls melt away, only to be replaced by fumes and flames?
Sakura swung her feet over the side of her bed and felt a small prickle at her feet. Her eyes slid downwards, her normally pretty face going a morbid grey as she felt straw from an arm poking her in the ankle. [it couldn't be- it didn't have to be- please don't-]
The doll.
What happened at midnight was not dream.
She'd hoped it had been.
If it had been then, it might've meant that she wasn't as horrid as she thought herself to be. Perhaps she wasn't as putrid as that thing said she was.
She picked up the object, gently brushing down the bristles, shivering at the oozing chill that began to run down her spine once contact had been made. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was desire or instinct, but whatever it was, it frightened her and Sakura couldn't help but fling the object to her dresser, giving a relieved sigh as it landed near the base of the mirror.
Hopefully it would stay there.
Weight lifted off her shoulders as it lost contact with the pale flesh of her hand, and subconsciously, Sakura's hand came up to rest on her hear as she gave a sigh of relief. Her innocence was safe for the moment.
The screen on her pretty-in- pink iPhone came to life, the tinkling jingles of her ringtone sending a jolt up her spine. Glancing down at it, her breath came out in a soft sigh of relief; it was only Ino- more than likely calling about their usual routine of coffee, sub route A-17, and of course, the short walk to campus in which they would discuss Sakura's latest advancements in the relationship she shared with Sasuke.
Sakura answered the phone, and within seconds, confirmed her assumption and with that the pink child began to prepare to leave, grabbing her bag, books and phone before rushing out the door, hoping to leave all trace of the straw doll behind.
She could- and would-get rid of it later.