A.N.: This is Chapter three of A Shift in Balance. I would like to welcome all to read this and other stories. Of course, if I didn't recommend such things no one be here on this page. In hoping to encourage people to read this story and review for more updates or a new idea or story, I posted a new One-Shot, called Invitations. As read from chapter one, I told about Sakura having a run in with Kiba. Invitations is set to reveal that specific night to the audience/reader. Plus, it's set to bring popularity to this story. Why? Simply because I love reviews and story hits.
I hope you all enjoyed the plot twists I have thrown at you in chapter two because this chapter is full of them. Please do enjoy.
Chapter Three
The clock ticked and tacked on that god forsaken wall and Sakura felt her heart jump into her throat, her stomach churned, and her face drain of all color. She threw herself up from the bed and ran at the clock with unknown speeds. In a flash, she had gripped the clock in her hand and stared at the piece with such intensity, she thought it would explode. Or so she wished.
It laid in her hands ticking and tocking. She shivered and she shook. Her hands began to shake with such a force, the clock seemed to screech. She turned it over and over looking for anything that would suffice as evidence as to its life. And when none was found, she fell in a crumpled heap on the floor.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
Sakura sat back on her hunches and held the clock out in front of her face. She tried to draw a small portion of her chakra.
"Ah! God damn it!" She hissed dropping the clock in favor of clutching her chest.
She cried out trying to calm her racing heart and soothe the pain she felt. It felt as if a thousand needles were thriving in her chest, stabbing and stabbing until she writhed on the floor. Settling down once again, she realized that she had dropped the clock which was now shattered into many parts that she knew would never come to life again.
Sitting up, Sakura stared at the broken pieces on the floor. She was panting as she grabbed the larger pieces in her hands and stood on unsteady feet pushing against the wall for some sort of support. Glancing down at the three large pieces in her hand, she huffed and worked her way over to the trashcan.
It would be there she would find the pieces of the last clock she threw away, or so she hoped. And when her heart began to hammer in her chest, she really thought.
I had thrown away the last pieces of the clock that broke. But if it is in the trashcan, where did this clock come from? What if there are no pieces in the trashcan? What if I had been dreaming about the clock? What if I'm dreaming now? No…this is too real. That pain…it was too real. And this clock...it's too real. But how did this happen?
Sakura edged closer and closer to the trashcan against the far wall and when she began to come closer and closer, she felt her heart plummet to her churning stomach and she felt her blood run cold. Something wasn't right. This isn't right. There shouldn't be a clock. It shouldn't have been ticking and tocking on that wall. There shouldn't be doors that lead to nowhere. There shouldn't be a reason she was here with memories undecided.
And when she peered in that trashcan, she died just a little inside.
The pieces, the pieces, they were nowhere to be seen. An empty can full of nothing filled her sights. And the clock felt cold in between her fingers. She shook her head and cleared her mind. Throwing the pieces in, they seemed too large and the can seemed too small.
She laughed, and she didn't think twice of going back and sweeping up the rest of the mess she created. She sighed and dumping the clock in the can, she looked down chiseling the sight in her mind for later reference.
Sakura walked to the bathroom to wash her face. She stepped across the threshold and felt a wave of an unknown sensation cross her. Something else was wrong. She flipped the switch on and gazed around the bathroom. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she paced over to the sink.
She put her hands on the edge and leaned her forehead against the cold mirror and sighed. She leaned back on her heels and turned the water on cold. She ran her fingers under the rush of water first, and when she knew that it was cold enough she cupped her hands and let them fill with water.
Leaning down, she splashed the water over her face and she closed her eyes tightly hoping to rid herself of the past events. Things weren't adding up and she didn't know how to solve it. First, she had those weird…dreams or memories. Then, she was stuck in what seemed to be a small sort of home with doors that led nowhere. Finally, a clock. The damn clock, she thought. If Tsunade was here she would have said something about sake being a lifesaver.
Sakura decided to be bold and dunked her head under the sink letting the cool water drench her hair and cool her scalp. But it didn't ease her mind or her growing worry.
Sakura let the water drench her head and as she waited patiently to calm down, her mind began to run over the possibilities of the situation. Of course, there wasn't much to say except
she couldn't help think back to when she first awoke here. She didn't know what the hell here was, but she knew that it was slightly cabin like in features and structure.
Briefly, she relished the idea of having a hot coffee, but while she dreaded leaving the bathroom, she didn't want to catch some cold especially without her chakra to heal her, fight of bacteria, or reduce an infection which really surprised her. She didn't know the cause of her chakra depletion, but she was starting to feel the drain.
Sakura pulled her head out and away from the sink and turned off the water before squeezing out the access water from her now soaking locks. Pulling her head up, she looked in the mirror and saw how her face was now slightly flushed and how her hair stood at odd ends. She chuckled quietly and tried to pat down the frustrated locks.
Quickly, she ran her hand through her hair to finger comb it and she straightened her clothes. It would be easier for her to focus on her current disposition. Once happy with her appearance, she sat down on the toilet seat and rested her forehead on her clasped hands which rested on her knees. She breathed in for a count of five, and breathed out for a count of five.
Tsunade often did this when she was too stressed or overloaded with work. Guaranteed, she did have to put up with Naruto just as much as Sakura did, Sakura couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. Naruto always was there for her to keep her mildly entertained or Sai would insult her or ask something about human nature he couldn't quite understand. Kakashi, that old perverted fool, always did keep her up to date on the Make-Out series he read, and she chuckled again thinking of her team.
Closing her eyes, she thought about their loving faces, the cautious glances Hinata always gave her and Naruto when together, the way Sai clung to his art work, how Kakashi always read the infamous series by one of the Legendary Sanin, how Tsunade criticized her for working too many long hours in the hospital. She thought of all the people in Konoha and she felt the hot prickling of tears in the back of her eyes.
Sakura leaned back pulling her head away from her hands and stared up at the ceiling.
Sasuke once was one of the people in Konoha. Sasuke once was one of her team, one of the loving faces. Sasuke once was a lot of things and now he was something she didn't quite feel like thinking about, but thought about anyways.
A Missing-Nin.
He was now considered in the Bingo Book as just that. His profile clearly stated he was such and that he was to be killed on sight. Considering Orochimaru's desire for his body, she could understand why. But she still was a bit weary. Sasuke wouldn't give up his body for power, would he?
She shook her head. She hoped not.
It just didn't seem right. But she never had a sibling to kill of her clan, let alone a clan to kill. Her parents were civilians. He father owned a small stand in Konoha where he sold pastries with her mother. Sakura was supposed to inherit the shop, but once she joined the Academy to be a kunoichi, her mother declined her that right. Her mother tried to disown her of course. Saying it wasn't right for a girl to do dangerous things. Once she became apprentice to Tsunade, one of the Legendary Sanin, her mother begged Sakura to keep the Haruno name. She did, having not thought of such things.
She missed the old Sasuke, and she missed how the old Team 7 used to be. But she didn't miss the new Sasuke. The old Sasuke was a symbol of hope, or greatness for Sakura. She crushed on him, and had her feelings denied. But that had made her grow as a kunoichi. She knew now that but turning her down every time he had, he had been looking out for her better interests in the line of duty; even though it hurt her to be told that she was weak and useless.
Those words had meant a great deal to her. She fed off those words and, metaphorically, became to grow from them like a sapling grows from sun shine and water. Weak, useless, it was all the same to her. She had meant nothing and did nothing those first few years. Sure, she was incredible smart, but she was utterly a lost cause on the field. And so when she begged Tsunade to take her as her apprentice, she took the first step to being better.
She grew under the tender, nurturing care of Tsunade. Though, Tsunade being tendering care was a bit on the wild side. Tsunade was a rough mentor and she drove Sakura to the brink every time they trained together driving her further and extending her limits. Sakura was grateful for her teacher's enthusiasm and she learned more from her than she ever did from a textbook.
Sakura had changed for the better. She became smarter and learned quickly. She easily rivaled Shikamaru on the intelligence level. Her will power reminded everyone she encountered of the Great Tsunade herself, seeing as Tsunade had told Sakura of how the rumor of her being a mini-Tsunade was starting up. But what surprised not only her, but most of the other shinobi was that her physical strength was immense. The shinobi ranks knew Sakura wasn't tough enough to handle missions of high caliber, so when she was reintroduced to the shinobi ranks with such strength and overwhelming power, it was unheard of.
Hell, she even defeated Sasori of the Akatsuki!
But all this brought her right back to the beginning. Damn Sasori, she thought. She had worked up such a great feeling and his mere name brought down her mood. She shook her head and straightened her back. It didn't sit well in her stomach to mope about. Instead, with fire burning in her eyes, she decided to think logically so as she left the security of the bathroom she threw her gaze to the expected empty wall.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
Her eyes widened and she let her body sway in shock. She froze and tried to still her body, she breathed in to avoid hyperventilating. Breathing in, breathing out she calmed her racing heart and forced herself to study the precarious inanimate object.
What would Tsunade do? Sakura thought slowly.
Tsunade would tell me to observe it, look for evidence of its existence and try to understand its motives. Take care to be prepared for anything. Of course, Tsunade would ask me to lay off the alcohol and to take off of work, rest up a bit, if she wasn't downing the sake. If she was drinking away her misfortune, she would tell me I was going crazy.
Sakura decided that this generally wasn't what she was hoping for. Taking shaky steps, she pushed herself to head towards the garbage can and look for the past clock's unfortunate remains. Sakura didn't know what to expect and she wished everything was as simple as Naruto's obsession for ramen was. But reality didn't have that in mind for her, or so she thought, as she looked in the garbage can with quivering eyes and shaky hands.
Nothing.
There was nothing in that forsaken pit; empty as the day she awoke in this strange place. She assumed the obvious: this was ridiculous. There were no remains of the clock she obviously broke and none from the one before that. There on the wall was another one ticking and tocking away.
She swiveled on her heels and with knew determination guided herself over to that very clock. Sakura thought precisely, I'm going to study this God damned piece and fucking find the end to this! Grasping the offending item, she thrust the clock into her vision determined to sketch it permanently into her mind for later use.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
Sakura put it back on the wall and scurried around the cabin looking for a scroll and some ink. Finding some randomly in a drawer, she made a chart, one column filled with everything she knew, another everything presumed could or could not be the cause, and the last filled with questions and comments that popped into her mind in nicely written kanji.
Satisfied with her work, she laid the scroll down on the countertop next to the ink careful to not ruin her handy dandy knowledge. She worked her way back to the bed and sat on it staring intently at the clock.
Maybe it's supposed to represent something, if anything. A clock, she thought, is supposed to represent time.
Sakura leaned back against the headboard and spread her legs out in front of her. Time spent how? Doing something? Not proceeding to do something? How does time play into this? How does this time work?
"This is ridiculous," she muttered darkly placing her hands on the bed and closing her eyes briefly. Sakura then began a course of action.
If she were to break the clock again and watch it, perhaps she could log some more useful information. Then she thought about the feelings of unease she got when she left the room which had the clock in it. Maybe the clock somehow was resurrected and put back on the wall during those time spans when she got those disturbing urgencies of unease.
She smirked, still with her eyes closed, and flexed her gloveless fingers. She stood and dragged herself over to the wall and touched the clock with malicious intentions running rapid through her mind. She brought the clock over the trashcan with such evil intent, she shivered in joy or fear, she could not tell. But she knew that the act of destroying this clock would bring immense relief and joy.
Once over the trashcan, she vented her frustrations, her worries, and her anger onto the clock with no remorse. This is all for a better cause, she told herself laughing under her breath. The clock broke and all the pieces fell into the garbage can with wickedly sweet sounds of crashes and thumps. All Sakura could do was smile down at them and laugh quietly.
Since when did breaking things become my joy? Sakura thought frowning slightly. And when did I forget to notice the time it read before I broke it? Damn.
Tossing the rest of the shards into the can, she turned away and headed for the bed. Positioning herself in a decent pose, where she was leaning against the headboard, her arms comfortably draped across her stomach, her legs stretched out before her, she watched the wall with something quite similar to a child's curiosity to a strange animal they've never seen before in their young naïve life.
And when nothing proceeded to happen, she frowned and prepared herself for a long day or night, whichever it really was.
--
Sakura was startled awake when a feeling of dread swept over her usually like when she was expecting an assassination upon herself. She jumped slightly and quickly scanned her immediate area. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she steadied her heart and calmed her sudden adrenaline rush. She glanced at the bed and kicked off the covers and disentangled
herself from the sheets. Damn, I fell asleep, she thought groggily. As that thought crossed her mind, her eyes widened and she shot her head up and flung herself at the wall and at the sight before her eyes.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
She growled and in a temperament, grabbed the clock and flung it. It flew across the room and landed in a shattered heap on the floor. She growled and, with a fist of fury, hit the wall. With a resounding crack, her knuckles split and she hissed in pain. Bringing her hands close to her chest, she cradled the wound and watched the blood trail down the wall. The gushing feeling of her blood trickling down her knuckles to her forearm alarmed her of its continual flow.
Her medic side kicked in and she rushed herself over to the bathroom stepping carefully around the shards of glass and glowering with distaste and hate. She opened the door and, seeing as she forgot to turn the lights off earlier when she left the bathroom with newfound determination, turned the knob of the sink with her unwounded hand. In her haste to run her hand under cold water, she ignored the feeling growing in the back of her head.
Sakura closed her eyes and hissed in pain. With her chakra, she could have easily healed the wound after numbing her nerves and cleansing it to avoid infection. But without it, the pain was bearable, but painful none the less. She opened her eyes and watched the red tinted water swivel down the drain and she narrowed her eyes. Fuck her temper, she thought, fuck it. She glowered and when the cold water began to tingle her skin, she drew her hand back carefully.
No use in hurting herself more, but in the back of her mind, she found sick satisfaction in the unnerved pain and the interesting sights of morbid fascination.
"Damn, "she whispered angrily, "Damn it all to hell."
Sakura turned around in the bathroom and looked around the small room for something that was rather easy to tear and cover her wound. No need to leave it open for all the germs and bacteria to infest in. Finding not much, she sighed. She grabbed the nearest towel, and with a frown, dunked it under the water to make it easier to tear. When satisfied with its absorbent nature, she put one end of the material in her mouth, the other she clenched in her unwounded hand.
She pulled with all her might, clenching the material between her teeth. In her peripheral vision, she noted how she looked like a rabid dog tearing away at the flesh of its prey. She huffed and when the material gave, she spit it out of her mouth not liking her comparison.
With the best of her ability, she wrapped and tied to material around her hand applying pressure slightly. She huffed feeling rather angry at herself and her reaction. Now she had another broken clock and no clues as to its reformation.
"Fuck," Sakura snorted.
Still clutching her injured hand, she stepped out of the bathroom and looked at the area where the fragmented pieces were to be laid and when nothing was found in her sights, she felt her blood run cold, her face lose all color, and her body tensed immediately. She lifted her gaze at to the wall.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
She dashed over with a huff, her breath escaping her slightly parted lips. She didn't even notice it no longer ticked or tacked. It was frozen. Frozen upon twelve, both the little and big hand were resting even so quietly on that black number twelve.
She felt her chest constrict painfully and gasped raising her hands to the material covering her chest. She shuddered as her body lost its warmth. Her eyes widened as her head began to throb and her vision swam before her eyes. Sakura collapsed to her knees and she clenched the vest upon her now cold body. She cried out as what felt like a rush of needles pricked her skin.
Her body was now shaking ferociously and she felt nausea claim her. She turned over to the side and heaved everything she had in her stomach until all that she threw up was bile. The sickly pale green liquid dripped out of her parted lips as she hyperventilated. Sakura spit out the rest of the liquid from her mouth and shuddered again when a hot searing pain traveled up her spine to the base of her skull. She nearly collapsed into her vomit when what felt like a sledgehammer hitting her skull made her cry out in pain.
She rolled herself over away from the mess she created and writhed in pain. Sakura hissed and moaned. Clawing at her vest, she tried to lift the press off of her chest and tore at her throat when she no longer could catch her breath. Her eyes watered and her ragged breath became more desperate as she slowly was being strangled by some unknown force.
Jigai, the word pressed itself through her pain filled mind and she shook her head still clawing at her throat trying desperately to breath.
Jigai, the word caressed her mind and she thought for one moment it had possessed her.
Jigai, the word was her savior or so she thought staring up at the putrid clock that had haunted her so.
She lifted her upper body and cried out as the hot prickling of tears burned her eyes. She gasped and groaned pulling her hand from her throat in order to push her body across the floor. Sakura felt herself growing weak as pain ransacked her body and mind.
She was a kunoichi. She was trained to bare such pain both physical and mental, but she never faced such things in her life. Death was no long a superficial thing in her life being as she saved and killed many in her time span as a media and a shinobi. She had honor and pride in her doings, not everything she did she liked or agreed with, but she was an honorable being in her status in Konoha.
In one last moment, with one last honorable time, she could do the most dignified thing the wives of samurai, and ninja alike could do to preserve such honor and meaning. Jigai grasped her heart and she pushed herself forward. She would go out with the honor and pride Konoha had raised her with.
Standing up at the counter, she scurried through the drawers until she found a tanto, the double edged dagger, with the blade length of 20 centimeters, and whimpered. Ripping her clothes with shaky hands, she fell back to her knees with the dagger in her hand clenched tightly. She pulled her legs together and under her. Tying the cloth around her knees, she paused gasping for air.
As her lungs clenched and unclenched, she thought, I will go out dignified despite my convulsive death. I will be honored.
She grasped the tanto in her right hand and took her last shaky breaths and moaned out in pain. Holding the dagger up to her throat she took on last look back on her life, of all the things that were important and significant to where she was today in this room lost and burning with pain.
Quickly, she slashed her jugular vein with the dagger. Sakura had the sensation of falling and her world became numb. She saw out of her crying eyes the red dark liquid known as her blood gush out onto the surrounding floor. She landed with her face toward the wall. The wall that had it all.
It had a circular shape. It had a white background. It had black hands. It had black numbers. It had black dashes. It had a black frame. It had…
No more.
With one last dying thought, she realized something even more so important:
The clock…it was my time…
--
"Itachi-san, I see that she is finally coming to."
A soft shuffle of clothing was a whisper in the darkness. Her body was cold. Her eyes were too heavy to lift. Her hands were numb from the odd position behind her back and her legs were too stiff to move being too bound in an odd soft of fashion.
"Itachi-san," the voice was gruff and a bit questioning in the still air.
Nothing came to her as she laid there undignified upon the cold stone floor under the gaze of more than one man.
"The Mangekyo Sharingan has done its job well enough, Kisame-san."
"Indeed it has."
A.N.: I know, I know. It was too quick and speedy. I really just wanted to get this updated for my oh so loyal fans. I was hoping to really make something out of this, but really. I'm not that great. I couldn't write a story for the life of me. This was suppose to be a quick chapter seeing as I had a beginning and an ending in mind, just not the so called middle sandwich. So, the next chapter is going to be yippy yippy, so full of excitement and a really thriller.
We will learn about Sakura and her destruction ever so more in the next chapter. Plus, the Akatsuki really come into the picture and their devious plans start to roll out onto your laps and into your hands.
Jigai is pretty much suicide that samurai wives etc. would do to preserve honor, pride, and to avoid being raped. It was a quick ritual really and the whole tying the legs together was to be dignified in death, even if death and slicing the jugular vein isn't.
Please review. Ideas, suggestions, comments, grammar etc. just fell free to leave it in the review.
If no reviews, no update. Oh well.
With so much love,
Sakeryu