A Better Place
Sakura is numb. She doesn't remember when it started. This feeling of not feeling. It is as if a fog has clouded her senses and all she is left with is a faint chill and a wet emptiness. It is an all-consuming force and she cannot resist. She supposes it is easier not to expend the energy on emotions. The ups and downs and the grey in between. But Sakura is a romantic at heart and thinks she would rather be a faucet of tears than a mirror glass that simply reflects what the giver offers. For when someone smiles, she smiles back. When someone tells a joke, she laughs. But the moment passes and she is wiped clean like a slate. She feels a fleeting dread as the numbness digs its claws even deeper and then nothing.
So she dances.
Her dances are a collection of wild, frenetic gestures. Grandiose movements that are lost on the incoherent clubbers. She is searching, you see. Searching for something that can make her feel again. She needs this. Needs it like an addict needs the burning thrum of acid in her veins. For there is still hope. It is a small tiny seedling she nurtures in a hidden niche of her soul. She whispers it out aloud now and the words float away like dandelion seeds, puffy little wishes disappearing into the pulsing beat of the club.
'I want to be happy.'
The song she is dancing to ends and there is a hush in the crowd like the lull before the next wave. Sakura takes the chance to weave through the dance floor towards the bar. She doesn't think she will find anything here. The club is populated by prototypical jobless barflies who come to forget and the blonde bimbos who come to take advantage of them. She usually watches enviously while the girls change emotions as quickly as they change their lovers. But it has been a long day and she is not in the mood tonight.
She grabs a barstool and waits for the bartender. As her attention drifts she idly eavesdrops on a nearby conversation. It is a bunch of obstreperous teenage girls giddy with the excitement of a night out. Her favourite kind. And ah, here was the head honcho, Miss Goldilocks to offer her latest piece of vacuity to the audience.
'You know girls, I was feeling so blue yesterday, I took myself to Fashion Sensation and bought the Pretty in Pink set and I just felt so darling after that. Just looking at the set's Giles Dean print dress made me feel pretty, you know?'
Sakura's interest wanes as the girls excitedly discuss the impressive emotional healing powers of Fashion Sensation. It could cure a broken heart! A friendship spat! Even an overall bad day! She has heard about Fashion Sensation before of course. It was the latest craze with all the girls of Konoha. It was rumoured that the fashion giant had woven jutsus into their clothes that could change one's emotions but Sakura hadn't raised her hopes. Really, clothes were clothes. It was as simple as that. Maybe the appeal of new clothes brought some semblance of happiness but Sakura wasn't looking for cheap thrills. She wanted the real thing.
The girl behind the bar places a drink in front of Sakura and scoffs, 'Fashion Sensation are opportunistic bottomfeeders who don't know the first thing about happiness. I bet you they don't even have a Happiness Set. Now, I can show you what happiness looks like.'
The girl is decked out in an outfit reminiscent of a 70's psychedelic poster and in the muted light of the club her pellucid eyes are both ancient and childish. She studies Sakura for a moment and then flashes her a brilliant smile and it's like a bridge. Sakura feels something unfold inside herself, light and delicate and important as a snowdrop, like a field of stars, glittering, singing. She gasps from the onslaught of pure, absolute feeling. The girl winks and slides an envelope across the bar. Inside are a train ticket and a map. A genuine smile spreads across Sakura's face and it feels delicious. She looks up intent on asking a thousand questions but the girl is gone.
In life there are moments that hold more substance than others. Within their invisible walls are worlds disconnected from the ordinary patterns of a person's life, intimate domains where every move is significant and sacrosanct. To taste such a moment is to understand the power of transformation. With one pure smile, the numbness had retreated. Her happiness now is a tentative thing, evanescent like dew, but it will grow into something strong and steady and she will not let the numbness win.
She arrives just as the sun is setting. The sky is infused with the colours of a shy beauty's blush and the late autumn sunlight dapples the ground with the richness of melting butter. Butterflies drift through the air like happy messages and the wind whistles a merry tune through the oak trees. Settling onto the grass, she closes her eyes and breathes in as if to affirm her life with the vitality of her surroundings. She soaks up the warmth that lies dormant underground, luxuriating in the ability to feel again. The numbness has completely left her and she knows it will not return. For the girl was right, this was happiness, right in front of her, ready to be plucked and relished. The cicadas begin to sing and the sounds of tiny scraping violins with strings spread too taut fills the air. Sakura feels the joy spread through her body from her toes, up through her legs where it pools in her belly and down to her fingertips and finally up to her head. She begins to laugh.
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