Wonderland
AliceEnchanted
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto; all rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto. I only own the plot for this fan fiction.
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Full Summary:
Sakura Haruno's life turns upside down when a mission-gone-wrong sends her right in the middle of the Akatsuki's web. Now, left without so much of a choice but to submit to their biddings, she finds herself swimming in the deep waters of something she thought she knows well. As she thrives between working with them and living up to her morals, she learns a new side of the organization nobody would have surely thought. Along the way, she begins to question all the rules she'd lived by, and everything she was told. Then she realizes that, even as a group, they're fighting for something different from the other, and ultimately: either you fight to survive or you don't survive at all.
Because when you throw an innocent girl into a mix of criminals and violence, then it results to a beautiful mess, what wonderland does it make?
Wonderland
Prologue
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Who are we... We who wander this Wasteland in search for our better selves.
The First History Man
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It was cold out.
The night has enveloped the village hours ago, leaving shadows along the slumbering street that, on the daylight, looked like every inch of a child's picturesque fairytale town. The moon had shied away from the grounds, hiding behind the dark, ominous clouds that veiled the midnight blue skies; and the stars had long retired in the blanket of the awaiting storm, leaving nothing in their wake but a trace of dust that now dissolved with the sparkling tears of heaven. The breeze stirred on dewy wings and icy breath, coursing beneath the clouds to brush the treetops and spiraling down on the rough pavement, carrying on its cradle some fallen dried leaves as it repeated its cycle: up and down, up and down. The streets stood isolated, saved for the shadows that remained in its frozen company, creeping along the sharp curves and junctions where a few lampposts flickered against the harsh wind.
In the living painting of monochromic hue, there stood a café that seemed to be the only place in positive color. People bustled in and out in a silent hurry, either clad in their raincoats or sheltered by their umbrellas, looking like giant ants on a normal, busy day and craving for something warm to fill their empty and cold stomachs. A solitary figure stood on the shop's front porch, seemingly unaware of the world around her: a still, breathing statue on the foreground of the lively and cozy interior.
She stood erect, her shoulders straight and nervous, her head tilted upwards, and her face shadowed by her hood. She appeared to be waiting for something to happen, for someone to arrive. The people paid her no mind, nosing rather on their own business as they have no time to sympathize with someone who looked like she didn't even need one. It's not that she gave a damn, either. She stopped caring a long time ago – back when the world had turned its back to her; but then again, life was never fair, so one could really not complain when you're gambling against it. Granted, she was not the first one to walk out of everyone's lives, though if they came to understand his reasons, if there was even one, they did not seem to accept hers.
It frustrated her.
She hated how they could go about their day knowing they were all very happy without her. It made her jealous: jealous of how a beggar knew he didn't have a home to return to; jealous of the way the birds can trust their wings fully despite sitting on a weak branch of a tree; jealous of something she had all along but had thrown away in the blink of an eye.
Then they were all gone like last night's dream, vanishing along with the fading darkness of the rising sun; out of her reach.
She wondered how things would be now if it had gone the other way. Perhaps, if she had not sacrificed herself in place of her teammate, they wouldn't come to despise her – her decisions, her reasons. But she was only barely fifteen, and like when she had been twelve, she blamed it all on the hasty steps she took, on her vulnerability, on her weak self.
Or perhaps, in a different timeline, she could pretend it was their mission that brought this joke upon her, which was exactly the truth; in that same another timeline, she could suppose she has the right to decline the Hokage's request to escort the backup team to the rescue one they have sent out a week prior, and who should have returned by now with a report in hand so they could all go in their separate merry ways. But they didn't, and not in the week after.
Why the Hokage trusted her – her skills, whatever little physical she has – enough, she did not know. Maybe, just as she was placed with the Kyuubi container and the second Uchiha heir, it was to balance out the team. Then again, what her purpose served to be grouped with Shikamaru Nara and Kiba Inuzuka, a strategist and a tracker, respectively? Apparently, they needed a medic in the midst.
When her apprenticeship with the renowned Senju Tsunade began, Haruno Sakura made it almost an opportunity to not only learn and get stronger, but to also get every memory of one Uchiha Sasuke out of her mind. After he left the village, left her on that bench to pick up the crumbling pieces of her, she learned that no matter how long she's stood beside him, he's always the first one to walk away. She realized that, and after Naruto promised to bring Sasuke back, she would never really fit in. It's always been about Naruto and Sasuke. She knew it, they knew it, even Kakashi knew it. So when he did it for the last time, she was the first one to forget all her feelings for him. Instead, she sought for things that would occupy her mind, anything that would not make her remember him.
It all goes back to that. And maybe she could put the blame on him as well.
So she accepted the suicide mission with the two clan children, unsuspecting of what awaited them far beyond the borders of the Fire Nation. They travelled through the forest, traversing from open fields as far as they could, taking shifts for watch at night. They were doing rather well, in her opinion, but it all went downhill for them after facing the Akatsuki sometime in the middle of their mission. She did not remember what happened, but she knew it was Kiba that made the first strike, she and Shikamaru following on instinct. She could not remember who she fought, it was all blurry to her, like she was watching a movie with all the colors washed out. But she remembered making an impulsive move when the marionette - Sasori, her mind supplied - tried encasing the Nara heir inside one of his puppets. She remembered pushing him out of the way, and everything was swallowed in darkness after that.
When she awoke, it was inside the walls printed in black with red clouds.
Tabula rasa.
A state of complete and utter blankness; a clean slate. She has started with that. A new name; a new identity. Now, she was wondering how she came to live comfortably in a shell of anonymity for even she did not know herself anymore.
Sakura Haruno was way different from Mikasa Hattori.
For years, no one outside the village knew of the identity of the leader. Ever since Orochimaru died, the village of Otogakure was left to fend for its own, with bandits running around the area and taking whatever little wealth the people have. They were forced to live inside the nightmare of a past that cannot be rewritten or erased, with next to scarce outside relations they have, remaining neutral in every way possible, and lying low at all costs. That was before they decided to start their plan with the Land of Sound. It seemed simple at first, taking domain of the place, but the villagers have been scarred from the damage Orochimaru left. Instead, they wiped the identity of the Land of Sound and renovated the whole place, naming it Land of the Sun, eventually.
She felt that it was how they should all start, even if they have to go from founding the village again.
Then their paths crossed again in the least she expected it. And suddenly, all the feelings for him she thought she has buried and forgotten came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.
"What are you fighting for?" she recalled him asking her. He looked down at her as if she was nothing but a mere dirt under his shoes, a deep scowl set upon his features. His dark eyes were hard and his face conveyed no emotion and when he spoke to her, his voice was cold and uncaring and it gave no any indication of the man she once knew; the man who showed her kindness and care when no one did. But in front of her was a soldier, a war-hardened man of his own virtue and principles.
"What are you living for?" And that moment, her body stopped shaking. That moment, she could feel she was in control of her own mind, and of her own body. As she held the tanto in her hand, she saw nothing but her target in front of her; she felt nothing but the need to focus on the task, and the overwhelming emotions that flowed through her veins and her thirst for blood.
"I'll win. And if I win, I live."
But what was she living for? That was the question she never had the chance to answer; the same question that had her hanging on a thin line of hope that one day, she'd be able to face them with a smile and no fear in her heart. One day, in the future, that they would see the promise of a better world for them.
"You're overthinking again," the deep, baritone voice almost startled her. Almost. A part of her wanted to be angry at herself for dropping her guard that he successfully slipped by her side without her noticing. The other part, however, was grateful for the distraction.
She turned to look at him, her eyes empty and dead. It was one of the few occasions that she would let her mask slip off her face, and a ghost of a smile to touch her lips.
"How do you even feel guilty for something you've never done?"
He did not answer, because – frankly – he didn't know, either.
"You've been worrying everyone," he told her instead, his lips pulling into a frown. He would not blame her, he could not. She was forced to lead this life even if she had chosen to do so in the end.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I-"
"I understand."
No, he didn't, but they could always pretend he did.
"You know you couldn't live like this forever." Of course she knew that, and she would never tell him he was right. He stood beside her now, mimicking her stance. Behind them, the lively chatter inside the shop continued, soft music started to play, and couples got up to dance. There was laughter; then the laughter turned to song; the song to whisper; the whisper to tears.
"I don't know how to live anymore." I have nothing left to live for. For the first time since she could not remember when, she cried.
Because it had been years, she could not remember when she'd lost count of them, since she decided she wouldn't have it any other way.
Because whenever she would look back to that day, it was always with the pleasure that she has done something she never knew she was capable of; something her former self would surely be proud of; something that, even for the price of losing your friends' trust, made the world a better place for them.
Someday, she hoped, they would understand why she fought.
Author's Note:
Hello, everyone! So, this is my first Naruto FF and it's one of the plot bunnies I've been working on for a while and, frankly, I'm still testing the waters on this particular story. The last time I've seen the series was when I was in high school, and that's like... eleven years ago? Yeah, so I'm relying on stock knowledge and research and other fanfictions I have read before. Well, I think this is my cue to start re-watching the anime.
Anyway, I would gladly hear any review and/or constructive criticism (because I think I needed one of two, who knows?) That and English is not my first language so please bear with me and my crappy writing.
Let me know if you're looking forward for more chapters!
xxx, Alice
(Updated: 11.04)
