He was taunting me with my toys, holding them high above my head so I could not reach them. My arms would stretch and my joints would pop as I exerted the muscles in my legs, standing at a very strong tiptoe, whining as I attempted to grasp. He laughed at me, pointing a painted finger, so I cried, cried running back into my room.

My feet toddled back and forth, and so did my body, rocking with the force of my speed. Knowing my house, even at such a young age, I turned corners and climbed stairs with my eyes nearly shut, salty liquid blurring all else that I could've possibly seen otherwise. In my mind's eye, my bedroom door was wide open, left that way from the night before, roaming the halls in childhood boredom after a restless night.

However, to my body's dislike, I slammed into the door hard, a sharp pang running through my veins as pain sequentially registered. I blinked, clearing old tears away before the new dared to exit, shock running through me. Electricity, I'm sure it had to be, surged like speeding bullets within my tissue, and the eyes I knew were open—I knew that I had them open—filled with black, tiny ants crawling into my vision.

I grasped my head, squeezing and shaking. Breaths grew heavier, thicker, and more desperate as the ants continued to eat out my eyes. I hated him. I hated him for doing this to me. It was every time, every time that he did this that this would happen to me, and it hurt. It stung and burned, as a fire singed the tender cells of my eyes, and I hated it. I didn't like it.

I wanted it to stop.

As usual, it did. Brushing off my pants, I rose from the ground, gripping my textbooks after a few sporadic blinks. The scene changed a few times, switching like a running movie projector with different films, and, eventually, the red lockers of the high school revealed themselves to me.

A girl was there, looking at me with concern. "Are you—?" She barely managed to squeak this before I shot her a silencing glare.

"You saw nothing," exited my lips on accord with my steps, leading me to my next class. She saw nothing, my conscious repeated to me, and nothing she will remember. Surely not. I would make sure of it.

She saw nothing. Yet lowly I knew she saw everything.


Chapter Three


My eyes trained themselves upon the golden yellow bag of potato chips Ino was eating out of, outlining each shade, tint, highlight and wrinkle on the bag. I must've read the name of the brand thousands of times before the lunch period was over with. There was nothing interesting about the bag, no; it was the hand that casually grasped the container.

Mindfully I ignored the ringing words of TenTen's vague warning, and as such, it seemed that the more I pushed the thought back in my mind, the bolder the words become the larger and more meaningful they became to me. What did the soccer player mean by her words? Was she merely trying to shake me into a bout of reality? If so, she had won, for I was on the verge of paranoia, shivers running my spine with each passing eye over my body.

Had they been the ones spreading the rumor, I thought, did they knock the spindle of lies, sending it on its downward spiral? How many people knew of this rumor? More importantly, the message printed in the forefront of my mind let itself become known: What was the rumor, and who had started it?

On their own, my green eyes found the creamy tanned hands that held the potato chip bag, traced them to arms, which lead to a face. A beautiful face, chattering away to neighbors, unknowing toward the havoc that was ensuing within her best friend's mind. It was a tornado, really, plummeting through all my deepest and darkest files, resurfacing those images I had buried long ago. It was becoming almost ridiculous, how long I was sitting in trained silence, being so ignored that I was sure that if I left the table, my absence would go unnoticed.

The notion was attractive to me, really. My lunch, the potato chips, so conveniently being eaten by someone other than myself, someone of whom I called my best friend, was gone, and the purpose of the lunch hour dissipated. My raging mind hindered me from socializing, and though my stomach growled in demand for food, my loyalty toward the happiness of my friend stopped me from saying no. The fog began to clear. Why was I still seated here, where I was far from happy, closer to the opposite?

With just that in my mind, I gathered my purse and can of Coke, planning to finish it. Each rising centimeter I made, the lighter I began to feel. This I could not connect to anything except the relieving of being stuffed with so many people at the so-called popular table. I was probably getting fresher air this way, and my personal space was no longer crowded either. That must've been it, I concluded, and drowning the rest of my soda, seeing if that could substitute the lack of actual food—fumes of pizza and hamburgers, even the faint smell of lettuce reached my nose, enticing my empty stomach—, I began to turn.

"Ah!" The sharp call ceased my movements immediately, tensing my muscles. "Sakura-chan, you know if you're going on bathroom break that we go together. It's a girl thing, you know?"

Ino, my mind rang, and, biting my inner cheek, I about-faced mechanically. Surprisingly, anger boiled at the sight of the smiling blonde girl, balancing her head on hand, the chip bag in the other. The table hushed when her blue eyes narrowed a minuscule. "Well?" She questioned, "Aren't you going to invite your best friend, doll?"

One by one, each table's attention diverted from their own conversations and to me. My heart pounded hard against my ribcage, seemingly knocking the bones out of place, putting discomfort to all nearby organs. My throat closed and my eyes began to tear. Don't cry, I pleaded. I couldn't cry when all eyes were on me. Not now, not when I was at the highest I would ever be, the highest I ever imagined myself to be. My legs shook and buckled, and I could feel my hands grow clammy. The Coke bottle began to slip from my grip, eventually falling to the ground. I watched the brown fizz spill, liquid spreading on the ground. It was a very small amount, the remainder of what I couldn't drain, but the aluminum still rang in the silence.

When my head jerked back upward, the first thing I saw was piercing black eyes, just beyond Ino's ponytail. He was staring at me, and acknowledgment keyed together in my brain. He was the new kid, and he was looking through me. It was comforting in this situation, wherein everyone was criticizing my faults as I stood awkwardly in front of Ino's scrutinizing gaze.

Soon enough, he discovered I was staring, and he chuckled lightly, turning away from me. The only sound in the room reacted like a single pebble being tossed into a lake, and ripples spread. One person began talking, then two, and soon later twenty people were talking. Before I could reach five seconds, the lunchroom had erupted in its usual madness, eyes leaving me. My heartbeat returned to normal.

"Sorry," I mumbled, squeezing back into my seat. "I, um, was going to throw away my soda but I dropped it so…" A giggle exited my lips and everyone laughed with me, either forgiving the awkward moment or forgetting it altogether. Some may have ignored the situation entirely, deeming it nothing of importance.


The school day was back to normal about a half hour after lunch was over. Ino, well, I was probably the only who noticed, was still concentrating on my misstep, and, unlike most, was not letting it go so easily. I measured it up to my being her best friend, and whatever I did reflected on her as well. That episode was something she definitely would not appreciate.

However, gossip melted her quickly, and, knowing what would send her on a tangent speedily, I fed into the silence as we roamed the halls, not necessarily caring to go to class. Though, honestly, I dreamed not to miss the beginning of my Physics class one day. It was crucial to take if I ever wanted to become a doctor, not as important as my AP Biology class, but importance is importance. I wondered vaguely wondered why it was this hour, right after lunch, that Ino demanded to skip class. Wouldn't she normally had enough chatter and not need another supplement?

I had mentioned casually, "You know, I heard Ami was hooking up with Inuzuka in the Fieldhouse. Have you?"

Her face lighted immediately, and she clapped. "Yes! My sources have told me that it happens on Wednesdays. We should check it out, ne? Like, maybe get some pictures for Facebook?"

I nodded. "I guess. Wouldn't that embarrass them, though? There's already enough circulating about the both of them."

I knew I had said the wrong thing immediately after the words left my mouth, and was reassured when Ino's smile faltered visibly. A pregnant silence filled the air, and I volleyed talking again to fill the gap, but Ino was already smacking her lips together. "So?" She shrugged, skipping ahead of me. This shocked me, seeing the girl ahead of my abruptly. I would've walked over her, knocking her down if it were not for my reflexes. "Everyone has circulating about them. That what they should want."

My mind buzzed at this.

Ino saw, and rolled her eyes, looping her arms within mine, guiding me down a hallway. "You see, Sakura," she spelled, "do you remember what happened to last year's Homecoming Queen?"

"…didn't she break her leg on the way up to get the crown or something?"

"Yes, but, you don't hear any more talk besides that about her, do you?" She questioned, and the inquisition lingered. I suppose that that is true. You hardly hear about her, only if…"Well, maybe if you count what she did with that TA, but, the point I'm trying to make is, Sakura: to stay in the circulation is to be popular, and to stay in the circulation is to have your news out in the open. So, in theory, to have your news out in the open is to be popular."

TenTen's words blared again behind my eyes, and I pieced together information. My mind spun a million miles per hour, and I fought to pay decent attention. Why was this so confusing? It was as if what I wanted to be was impossible because of what I had become. What exactly had become? A voice inside of me told me that I was doing nothing wrong ,that I was just being myself, and there was nothing wrong with that.

The emptiness in the hallway began to make my heart pound. I looked toward Ino, seeing her attentively aiding her nails. She was unaffected by the sheer chance of being caught, and so I pretended as if I weren't a raging rollercoaster right now.

I stammered, "I don't hear anything about you."

I felt like a baby being delivered into a new world then, the knowledge pouring down upon me. Ino's words made complete sense, yet they contradicted with something invisible in my mind. I was concerned for those people, those who had their stories in the air. What if they didn't want the whole school knowing what goes on in their world. I quarried this, unfortunately after I asked my question to Ino.

She giggled, gripping my arm tighter. "Sakura, you're so cute when you do that."

"Do what?" I asked, a little harshly. I became lightly fearful, though it left immediately, seeing as the blonde didn't seem to notice. "I create the rumors, so that way, there'll never be one about me. If there is one, I'll be the first to know, and I'll squash it."

My eyes bugged.

"Simple, ne?"


A/N: I have no excuses, but I'll say them anyway to make myself feel better. I lost my password. I fell behind in school. I've been through some stuff with family. I lost my writer's passion. I lost this plot. So. I'm very sorry. I will try to keep it from happening again.

Thank you haliz, illneverknow, LaughsRFun, and AnimaniacXOX for reviewing.