EEEEYYY! And so on.
So I was sitting and minding my own business (or not) when inspiration struck and knocked me off my bed. Or maybe it was just clumsiness.
We may never know.
But anyway, as this inspiration is too elaborate to type out in a one-shot, which is my normal style, I'll be uploading it in chapters instead.
EXCITEMENT! We'll just have to see if anyone actually reads it!
Disclaimer: You'd definitely know it if I owned Naruto. (Which is to say... I don't. Yet. (Muhahahaha.))
The day started out as a lovely one.
Haruno Sakura was awakened rudely by her obnoxious alarm clock, per usual; six A.M., on the dot. She endured this for approximately eight minutes before rolling over and slamming her fist down on the offending object.
She then spent the next few moments mourning the loss of an inanimate technology- or, rather, the money it would cost to replace it.
Then she stretched and popped and crackled and she hauled herself out of bed and she peeled back the simple shade that kept the wretched sunlight out, though it was presently still dark outside. Nevertheless, she greeted the oncoming dawn with her normal radiance: namely, with a half-hearted twist of her lips and an incoherent mumble.
And then she quit the BS and went the hell back to bed.
Thus was the exhilarating life of an adolescent.
Eventually, our exuberant young protagonist regained consciousness long enough to check the alarm clock and, upon re-discovering the sorry state that it had assumed, fumbled for the old, cracked cell phone that sat just beside it.
6:47.
Sakura did a double-take and staggered gracelessly out of bed once more, slightly alarmed that her father hadn't stormed in and dragged her down to stuff some oatmeal down her throat. He always insisted on eating breakfast together every day, after all. She knew it was because they rarely, if ever, ate dinner at the same table. He worked late and drank even later, and by the time he came home, he was either too exhausted or too drunk off his ass to function. She could hardly blame him- the life they lived was a hard one, what with the slippery job he'd managed to hang on to and the part-time one that she herself worked when she wasn't studying or practicing martial arts (only one of which she actually enjoyed... and it wasn't studying). Between the both of them, they'd managed to save up just enough to afford the dank, tiny apartment they currently occupied and the measly meals that sustained them.
It was difficult, but they had each other and sometimes that was all that mattered.
But sometimes, she couldn't help but wryly think that if perhaps he managed to refrain from spending so much money at the dingy bar down the street, maybe, just maybe, they'd have a little more to live off of.
And she wasn't unaware of the extent their situation had stretched, either. She'd gotten many an angry phone call with the caller spitting out unthinkably violent threats and demands for their money back. She had approached her father about it once, but he'd feigned ignorance and she'd had no choice but to go along with it.
She went to sleep afraid and woke up terrified.
But here she was, seventeen years old and nearly done with high school. She had survived somehow, and so far no knife-bearing maniacs had lurked at her door and mugged her.
But we've veered off-topic just slightly. And so back to the present, where our heroine inches towards the door frame. The entire apartment itself consisted of four rooms- one of which wasn't a room at all, merely a cramped arrangement of culinary essentials they affectionately called "the kitchen"- and one of them was all hers. When they had first moved in, she had adamantly refused to take it and persisted in sleeping in the main room. And so she did, until her father continually snuck over in the middle of the night, carried her to the other room, and slept in the main one himself. At first, she was furious and humiliated, but she finally caved to his pleas and, eventually, even decorated it to her tastes.
Sakura slid the door aside a fraction and peeked out, every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation. The lights were all flipped off and silence roared in her straining ears. Not even a whisper of a sound. But her blood still pounded through her veins, and her nerves were abuzz with fright. She stood for a long while, and when she had managed to pluck up enough of her courage, she slammed the door open and bellowed, "HA!"
Nothing. Not a stir.
She relaxed and padded across the room to the light switch, which she flicked on, and whirled around to the mass of futon and father in the corner, where she cheerfully proceeded to draw her leg back and snap it forward.
Her foot forwent contact with flesh to collide with the wall instead.
Passionate cursing ensued, along with the thumping of a jumping teenage girl clutching at an abused big toe. Her disgruntled downstairs neighbors thumped back with a broom handle.
Blinking tears of agony from her eyes, Sakura regarded the crumpled heap of blankets on the ground wearily and nudged them aside with her (throbbing, tender) foot.
Well, no wonder her foot had went right through the space.
There was nothing there.
Sakura ripped the covers off the futon in one panicked jerk and was left staring down at a seemingly innocent piece of paper staring harmlessly back at her.
She snatched it up shakily and scanned it hastily. Then, when she reached the end, she went back and read it again, more slowly this time. And after she had done that, she read it again, and again, and again.
And then she let it slide from her grasp, and she herself slid down and put her knees to her chest and her head in her hands.
My dearest Sakura,
I'm sorry. I couldn't do it.
Don't worry. I'm searching for a better life. When I've found it, I'll come back for you.
Just do your best until then. I believe in you.
Love,
Papa.
P.S. Oatmeal's on the table.
Alriiiighhht! My very first chaptered fanfic ever! I'm all fired up!
...As Natsu would say.
I love Spring Break. Almost as much as I love sleep. Or spell-check.
What's that, small voice in my head? "Review or die"? No, no, no, that would scare all the nice people away.
On the other hand... well.
Kidding! Reviews are just the substance of my soul, the light in the darkness of my stifling reality, but really, pay no heed to me! I'll just curl up here and whimper as my world constricts around me.
I mean... I guess you could...
No pressure~.
