Black
It painted my world. It had been for the last five years. It became a steady companion and a worst foe. It hindered destructive forces from entering my comprehension, yet it seeped through my skin and consumed my entire being. A protector and a parasite.
"Sasuke Uchiha…? Dr. Tsunade's in the building… You can see her now…" A bored feminine voice ended the murmurs in the lobby.
Her simple statement cracked the concrete barrier around me, causing a leakage of anxiety from the depths of my mind. It took a moment to compose myself and cage the weakness back where it belonged.
"Any Sasuke Uchiha around…? You here?" She called again.
I inched up my sunglasses and removed myself from the foamed sofa.
"Oh." She didn't hide the impressed surprise in her tone. "There you are, sir. If you could just follow me, please."
Typical.
Bile rose to my throat at the sudden sweetness in her voice; nonetheless, I reached for the thin metal stick against the wall to my right and followed the clanks of her heels on the tiled flooring. I would spare the change of behavior to her ignorance. She was new here; a trainee perhaps?
Along the hallway, a series of high-pitched taps accompanied our footsteps. It was the sound of assurance to my ears, the ground beneath my feet, and my anchorage to reality.
The trainee hadn't said a word since we left the lobby; just as I expected. A few more taps later, she spoke.
"We're here."
Simple words of direction wrapped with disappointment and pity. The disappointment: I could handle, for I take pleasure in crushing everyone's expectations of me. The pity? I could never permit. The assistance wasn't necessary. The twenty-five steps to this door were embedded into my memory.
"Hn." I took a 90 degree turn to the left and tapped for the wooden door, shoving her off in the process.
"Let me help y–"
"I can manage." I growled, cutting her off. I wished it wounded her. Just to retaliate for the insult underneath her words. "Get lost!"
"Okay s-sir. I'll b-be going now." The unsteady voice and quick footsteps confirmed her fear and departure. She turned from a love-sick puppy to a scared worthless pest in mere seconds.
Good.
The cool metal doorknob contrasted my current temper, helping me pull myself together. I inhaled a deep controlled breath before pushing the door open. Its muted creak served as my cue to step inside, and as I did so, the familiar vanilla fragrance wafted into my nostrils. The scent was something I learned to associate with warmth and serenity, something common yet something foreign that it could be soothing and terrifying altogether.
"You never knock, do you?" A deep maternal voice spoke, her comment passing right through me and out the door.
"Hn. I'm the patient."
"I'm the doctor. It wasn't nice to have met you."
"Same here."
"Enough with the greetings, Uchiha. And try to be nice to all the trainees, will you? It's her first week and a barking patient might scare her away."
"She'll get used to it."
"No excuses. I'll just get your recent file at the Registry, so take a seat first – I haven't rearranged the furniture. There are also some biscuits on the coffee table, if you want. Those are supposed to be for a patient – a little girl, but she passed away last night so… feel free to get some."
Tsunade's voice drew near, so I stepped aside to the right, where the scent of vanilla grew stronger. Just as the door closed, I took three steps forward, five more steps to the right, made a 180 degree turn, side-stepped to the left, and sat on the single-seater sofa, which I knew was situated behind me. I had always preferred not sharing a seat with anyone. For me, the long sofa implied openness and a certain degree of trust to those I would share the seat with. For me, imparting those qualities was impossible.
I reveled in the silence of the room until a screech interrupted the quiet. It was the noise of a coffee table sliding against the tile flooring. I made no move and sensed the surroundings, the ticks of the clock joining me. Something was within my personal space, I could tell. The table slid again, followed by the crunch of a biscuit being broken in two.
"I know you're there." My voice sounded like how I wanted it to be – stern and distant. "Stop this nonsense. It's not working."
More silence… before a chuckle erupted from the long sofa's direction. "Alright, you got me. You're as sharp as always! Just admit it… you were a little scared, weren't you?"
I forced myself to feel offended by the uplifted tone and soft melody of the music that was her laugh. No. It was a noise. An annoying disturbance to my ears.
"You think that's funny?" I grumbled. "Toying with someone else's deficiency?"
The music ceased, and I could have regretted ruining the mood, but I should not feel regret. Not towards her.
"First of, I'm not trying to be mean to you. I'm trying to play a prank here and hoping to get some other reaction out of you. If that came out offensive, I'm sorry. Second, I'm gonna tell you for a hundredth time that your condition is NOT a 'deficiency'. Stop calling it as such."
"You want me to lie to myself?"
"No." She said, making it sound like her point was obvious. "I'm telling you to quit looking at your situation in a negative way. Try to see the bright side of it."
Wrong words. "Too bad I can't see."
"Oh c'mon, you know what I mean. Recognize your strengths. Like for example: the rest of your senses may be heightened, unlike us, who take them for granted sometimes. You also have a sharp memory, considering how you got to that chair with ease – you walked fluidly and were very sure of your actions. That's quite impressive if you ask me."
"Hn." I knew my abilities very well, but hearing her acknowledge them made me feel like the most important man that ever lived. But this was wrong. This should not be the case. Since my childhood, I had never cared about other people's perception of me, whether they approve of my actions or not: none of my business. So her thoughts should not be much of a difference… yet somehow, they were.
She scoffed. "Looks like I'm feeding your ego, 'cause that smirk has reached the arrogant level. Or are you trying to distract me? Hate to break it to you, but that little emphasis of your good looks wouldn't charm me off from giving you a proper lecture."
The smirk she mentioned crawled up higher on my face, and just then was I able to become aware of its presence. "You think I'm handsome?"
"I didn't say that."
"Hn. 'I' did not. Sakura Haruno did."
"Gee. Very Funny. Since when did you develop a sense of humor?"
"Same time you stopped using sarcasm."
A scream of frustration was her reply, delaying the descent of my smirk.
"Whatever, Mr. Kill joy. I should've known better than to associate you with the word 'fun'. It took a great effort to pull Dr. Tsunade into my prank, you know. She said she didn't want to lie about something like that. But no worries, 'cause such news didn't happen. Anyway, how'd you know I was here?"
"I just do." I would never admit that I could recognize her perfume from a mile away, if she was even wearing one to begin with.
"You kinda creep me out sometimes."
"Good." That should keep her away from me. Fear.
She released an exasperated breath, before a series of crunching sounds joined the conversation.
"Want some biscuits?" She asked, chewing the vowels in every word.
"No."
She hummed an okay and cleared her throat. "Hey, I just noticed, where's Itachi?"
The air's density increased and I could feel its weight in my lungs. Gravity did its part well as it pulled down the atmosphere, dropping my peaceful mood onto the layer of molten rocks below the Earth's crust.
"Hell if I care." My voice was strained with a fury I couldn't place. Something about Sakura looking for Itachi had awakened the dormant beast I know I truly was.
"No need to be snappy about it, I was just asking. What a jerk…" A tinge of anger marked her tone. I guessed snapping back was one quality she acquired from her mentor. I knew her apprenticeship with Tsunade would dissolve the gentle girl I first met.
A knock sounded at the door, and I had a feeling it was who I thought it would be.
"Come in." Sakura chimed.
The first footstep was all I needed to hear; the measured landing of a masculine heel on the ceramic. I could almost picture the shiny black shoes similar to the ones I used to secretly admire as an early teenager. He must be wearing a formal suit from work. Most likely, his long hair was tied into a low tail at the back, the same hairstyle he preferred in his teenage years.
He possessed the eyes that didn't reflect his caring and unselfish nature. In addition, a microscopic frown must be present on his face. But I could only visualize the youthful face I remembered from five years back. What he looked like now? I would never know.
I leaned the walking cane against the sofa and crossed my arms over my chest. "Speak of the devil."
"Oh, hi Itachi!" Sakura's smile was passed onto her voice. I had never seen the shape of her smile, or how she looked like for that matter; given that I had met her only about a year ago. Still, that didn't give Itachi the right to catch even just a glimpse of it.
"Good morning, Sakura." Itachi's suit rustled as he took a seat on the long sofa.
"We were just talking about you. How come you didn't arrive with Sasuke?"
"I got caught in a traffic jam, but if I remember correctly… I told him to wait for me in the lobby."
It wouldn't take a genius – although I am one – to conclude that he was pointedly staring at me.
I shrugged a shoulder. "You're late."
"You should have called me."
"I forgot."
"Sasuke, this is standard procedure. Every single one of your check-ups is critical. I should be here to discuss the results with your neurologist and offer you help."
"Don't need it."
Noise had ceased to exist for five seconds or so, with the exception of slow biscuit crunches courtesy of Tsunade's apprentice.
"Um…" She began. "Don't worry, Itachi. Dr. Tsunade has yet to discuss the test results. She just went to get them. She'll be here soon."
"Thank you." Itachi murmured.
That was better. I preferred my brother's anger over his sympathy. I had already caused him enough trouble. I deserved his fury. Because I survived the car crash five years ago. Because I lived. And our parents didn't.
Due to that accident, my vision disappeared. I had been at the backseat and with no safety belts on, when a truck from the other lane attempted to overtake and smashed against our car as a result, pushing us backwards to the way we had come from. When the car skidded to a halt, I hit the back of my skull against the rear window. The last picture I registered was the shattered windshield, the truck's glaring headlights, and the bloodied forms of my parents in front – both had their backs to me… both unmoving. After that, I never saw them again… I never saw again.
The doctors said I suffered from a brain injury, where the occipital lobe was affected and the optic nerves took most of the damage. They said the condition still needed to be monitored, so I was required to have frequent check-ups. They said if not examined, the damage could spread… They said it could lead to death.
Tsunade arrived with my latest medical records, and she discussed the CT scan and MRI results. The damage slowed down from spreading, she said.
I had been meeting with a physiatrist, had been through physical therapy, occupational therapy, recreational therapy, speech consultation, and had undergone tests with a neuropsychologist. All those bothersome recovery steps took place during the first three years of my new life.
Now, five years had passed after the accident and I still had to visit a neurologist.
I knew I would never be normal again.
"I don't need a baby sitter."
"You don't." Itachi agreed. "She's far from one. She'd only see to it that you take proper medication while I'm not around."
"I can do that."
He sighed. "We're talking about two weeks, Sasuke. I will be gone on a business trip for two weeks. I cannot just leave you here on your own."
"Why not?" I knew exactly why, but I wanted to hear it from him. Itachi always prepared my meals and medicines. At mornings, he cooked our breakfast and my lunch before leaving for work. He also set up my medication at the countertop, where I could find them without difficulty. At evenings, he prepared dinner for both of us before personally handing me the medicines. That was the drill. Everyday. And I knew he was getting sick of it.
"If I leave you on your own, you would skip meals again and may not even take your medication. I allowed your demand to dismiss the caregiver since you seem to be comfortable moving around the house by yourself. You even refused my proposition to hire a private maid, so instead, I hired for cleaning services to come over every week. This time, I will stick to my decision and you have no other option but to deal with it."
Not the words I want to hear. "Someone who'll feed me and tuck me to bed? Sounds like a baby sitter."
"Her task is to ensure that you keep yourself healthy."
"What if I won't let her?"
Itachi took more time to answer, and when he did, a trace of smirk fused with his words. "Trust me. You will."
I gave him the silent treatment after that. He said this 'nurse' would be here in thirty minutes, but he had a flight to catch and couldn't afford to wait for her that long. I didn't respond. He told me to lock all the doors everynight, check if the gas tank was closed, and some other tasks entrusted to a minor whose about to be home alone. I didn't respond. When he walked towards the door and said goodbye, I tilted my chin upward in an acute angle. Whether he noticed that or not, he didn't point out.
I wondered who the baby sitter could be that even Itachi appeared to trust her so much. The minutes flew by until the doorbell decided to grant me an answer. Just as I pulled the front door open, there it was again – the overwhelming scent that had engraved itself in my memory.
I forgot to exhale. "You?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. Tsunade's annoying assistant." She was the baby sitter? Sakura would live with me for two weeks? I almost bowed my head in shame. Almost.
"Excuse me, the term's apprentice. I'm her apprentice."
"Doesn't make a difference."
"Look." A thud sounded at her feet – a dropped suitcase? – and I would guess both of her hands settled on her waist. "In case you've forgotten, I'm here because your brother asked Dr. Tsunade to watch over you while he's away. But since Dr. Tsunade's a very busy woman, she ended up delegating the task to her apprentice, who happens to be yours truly."
"I didn't forget Itachi's words." But he didn't tell me it's going to be you.
"Glad we're on common terms here."
The silence that followed gave way for the eavesdropping cricket outside. I may not see the sky, but at least I knew it was night time.
Sakura cleared her throat. "So…?"
I raised a brow. So what?
"Aren't you gonna invite me in?"
"No."
"O…kay… I'll just let myself inside then."
A soft swoosh and click followed. She just pulled up – or pulled down? – the suitcase handle. A stomp came from the left, so I sidestepped to that direction, attempting to block her path. But then a breeze of vanilla passed by to my right and I was a millisecond too late when I moved to block the doorway again. The heavy thud of her suitcase sounded on wooden planks this time.
"Seriously? That's very welcoming of you, Sasuke. What? Are you hiding something in he–"
Irritated about the fact that she managed to fool me, I ignored her abrupt silence and closed the door.
"Wow…" She whispered. "Your house is beautiful."
"Make yourself at home." I said, my voice dull. I didn't mean it. I would never say that to her in a sincere way. I would never. I could never. Never.
"It's really spacious and cozy-looking." She said. "I can't put my finger on it, but the design looks like a mixture of modern and traditional Japanese architecture. The balance of wood, steel and concrete is just amazing. And the sleek furniture! Wow."
Wow yourself. "Are you an interior design major who's taking up a medical apprenticeship?"
"I read architectural magazines too, you know. I have to say, your house is magazine material; or even better since I'm actually in here! This is so cool. Did you buy this as it is or was it custom-built?"
"Custom-built."
"Wow. This must've cost millions or something… So this is Itachi's kind of style."
I frowned. Why did she always have to bring Itachi into our conversations? "My mother wanted it this way."
"Oh." Regret coated her tone, as if she were the one responsible for my parents' deaths. "I'm sorry."
I shrugged off her words and the twist of sword in my chest. Just the thought of my parents worsened the wound in there. And I deserved it.
"You shouldn't be." I veered the topic to a U-turn. "We've been living here since I was 9. Itachi had offered to move out, but I didn't want to. It's easier to find my way around here."
"Fair enough. I bet you've already memorized every corner of this house, huh?"
"Hn." I started heading to the stairwell with the walking cane's help. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?"
"To where you'll be sleeping: guest room."
The familiar rhythmic taps, our footsteps, and the occasional thuds of Sakura's suitcase filled the stairs and hallways.
She was right. I memorized every corner of this place to the point that I could create a mental map of it. Everything here was so familiar that even though it reminded me of my parents, it was still a place that provided a little normalcy. Here, I knew where every room was located, how many paces they were from one another, or how many turns it would take to get to each one. Here, I knew where my destination was and I knew how to travel towards it. Here, was the perfect irony of my life.
Once we arrived at the second floor hallway, I stopped at the first door to the right, turned the knob and stepped into the space. "This will be your room."
She didn't speak or follow me inside.
I waited.
Then she sighed, exasperated. "You're trying to be rude again, aren't you?"
I didn't move, waiting for her to elaborate. What's she talking about?
"How can I possibly see the room with the lights off?"
Oh. That. I was so used to ignoring the light switch I didn't remember there was a sighted person with me. "I forgot."
*Flick* "Yeah right. How can you forget something as important as the ligh–" She paused and gave an almost inaudible gasp.
I shrugged. "Don't need it." With a desire to avoid another apology from her, I walked to the door as fast as I could manage.
"Sasuke, I didn't mean–"
"Forget it." I reached for the knob and shut the door behind me. After a deep controlled breath, I headed down the hallway towards my room.
I was sick of other people's apologies. They didn't have the right to feel sorry for my circumstances. I should be the only one feeling sorry for myself, and they should only feel so for themselves.
I mind my own business, they mind theirs. As simple as that.
Usually, someone's words of pity would drive me to throw back harsh words, so they could take back their regrets and save it for themselves. Sakura wasn't an exception. I wanted to snap at her right then, to scream hurtful remarks, to damage her until she would not dare feel sorry for me ever again. I could have. I should have. But there must be something wrong with me today, because I couldn't bring myself to do just that.