Chapter Four-

Before I even opened my eyes I knew something was wrong. I'm lying on something soft. It wasn't the bench I usually fell asleep on. I open my eyes and see ceiling tiles. Wait, ceiling tiles? The subway station doesn't have ceiling tiles. Where am I? I look to the right a little and see white see-through curtains, that are surrounding the bed that I am lying in. I think I am in the nurses' office, though I can't be sure because I've never been in here before. As if on cue a woman with short black hair walks in (1).

"Oh, you're up! Ino-san said you fell asleep in class and couldn't be woken up so she brought you here."

I blink. I fell asleep in class? I don't remember doing tha…oh. I flush as I remember what really happened.

"Are you feeling alright, Sakura-san?"

"Err…yeah…I'm fine. I think I just stayed up too late finishing homework."

"I see. Well you've been sleeping for three hours, I tired calling your parents, but they didn't pick up."

I sigh in relief that no one picked up the phone. That would have been hard to explain.

"Yeah, they might not be home from work yet. I'll just take the bus home."

"Are you sure you're feeling better?" she asks worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Er…thanks," I say awkwardly.

She smiles at me and I stand up and pick up my bag which is lying in the corner.

"Be sure to get enough sleep tonight!" she says as I leave. I nod in acknowledgement and walk slowly down the deserted hallway. It's 5:30 now and there's a bus at six so I have some time. I feel weird, like I'm empty. It's a strange feeling and rather refreshing considering how bad I felt before. I walk through that maze to my locker. I open my planner and find that I only have two assignments since I missed most of the day anyway. I'm kinda surprised that no one's here but then I remember that it's Friday and there are no clubs or sport's practice for some reason.

I have a whole weekend ahead of me. Without Tenten. I block out those thoughts. I've already sobbed my eyes out once.

I change my shoes and then pause, wondering what I should do for the next 20 minutes. The bus stop is very close to the school. I suppose I could start on homework, but then what would I do during the weekend? I sigh and lean against the lockers and slide to the floor.

I suppose I'm confused about what Yamanaka did, but I can't say that I was surprised. Does that make any sense? Now that I think about it nothing really ever surprises me. I mean, sure, I might say I'm surprised, but nothing ever seems to faze me anymore. I might be disgusted or angered or confused, but never shocked. Maybe, it's because I've seen so much of people in various mental status' that I find people can and will do anything they please and I got used to that.

I don't understand why Yamanaka wanted to know why I was crying. I don't understand why she hugged me and brought me to the nurses' office with a cover story. It just doesn't make any sense. I thought she hated me. I shake my head. I doubt I'll ever figure it out. But it doesn't matter. Hopefully, Yamanaka will just ignore me after this and everything will go back to normal.

Normal. Ha.

What do I know about being normal? Nothing really. Even if I had stayed in that foster home I still wouldn't have been normal. And even with my twisted sense of normality, everything can't go back to 'normal' because Tenten's dead. She's dead and now I'll have to start all over again.

I rest my head against my knees. What am I going to do? There's nothing left for me. Nothing at all. A few days ago I was so sure. I knew what I was going to do. When I was fourteen I thought it all up. I would graduate from high school and win that scholarship and would become a cryptologist. There was actually a high demand for that kind of job and I loved solving puzzles. I would buy a house for Tenten and I and we would be together forever.

Forever. Such a simple word that most people used at least ten times a week. But what did it mean? What exactly was 'forever?' I cut of that train of thought before I could embellish on it. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I was lost; uncertain. And nothing made sense any more. For the second time today tears trickle down my cheeks and this time there really isn't anyone around to see them

Days went by. I wasn't really sure how many. It was all a blur. I suppose one could say I was depressed, but depressed didn't really cover it. I was alone. I hardly felt anything anymore; not annoyance or pride or even sadness. I was empty. And it hurt. It hurt so much. I wake up, go to school, do homework, eat, do more homework, and then sleep. And then I start all over again. It seems so meaningless now. So utterly pointless. Sure, if I keep this up I'll go to college, get a job and a home. But somehow that doesn't seem to matter anymore. I've lost all sense of ambition and pride. I don't know what I want. Not anymore.

Oh gods, does it hurt.

I began to have nightmares. Ones where I would wake up covered in sweat, shaking and breathing harshly. I dreamt about her. How she looked as she laid there. Her face contorted in fear and pain. I found an article in the newspaper about her. It was a small column, less than five inches long. It said that an unidentified woman of about eighteen years of age had been raped and murdered. Her body had been dumped in an empty alley. The killer hadn't been found.

I bought a lighter and watched as the newspaper burned to ash.

I never really showed much emotion to begin with, but a few days after 'the incident' my teachers began to ask if there was anything wrong. I told them, politely of course, that I was fine but I don't think any of them believed me.

It's the weekend now and I have absolutely no clue what I'm going to do. My teachers decided to be nice for once and decided not to give us a lot of homework, so I have nothing to do. If I were in any other financial situation I probably would have just gone to a local bar and gotten hammered, however, buying alcohol costs money, which is something I have to conserve. I guess I'll just have to be depressed without the alcohol. Oh, joy.

It's not that I like being depressed like some kids at my school, it's just that I am. I can't control it and let's face it: who wouldn't be depressed if their best friend had been raped and murdered? I'm not going to cut myself or anything and I sure as hell don't want to die, I'm just depressed.

…Okay, so maybe I have had a few suicidal thoughts, but I wasn't planning on acting on them. Personally, I think it's stupid and rather pointless…like everything else in this world.

I go to the local library mostly. I can't take anything out or use the computers because of my lack of an address, so I sit in the comfy chairs in the teen section and read. I stay there for about three hours and then leave for the subway station. It's busy, even for a Sunday night, and everyone is trying to push towards the entrance to the station without trampling each other. A perfect place to steal someone's wallet and I take advantage of it. I take the subway back and then go out to eat at the cheapest place around. It begins to get dark and I make my way down to the subway station again which is still crowded with people. Usually I lock myself in the bathroom until it quiets down, however, before I even reach the subway I walk straight into someone.

"Sorry," I say unsympathetically, I move to sidestep the woman, the person was wearing a very short miniskirt after all, so it was probably a woman. Or Uzumaki or Uchiha. Heh.

"Haruno?"

I look up into Yamanaka's surprised face and inwardly curse. Goddammit!! She's everywhere!

She looks over me critically, "Are you okay?"

I blink. What kind of question is that? I can't look that bad, can I?

"Fine. Now if you'll excuse me…"

She doesn't move and looks at me curiously. I hold back the urge to yell at her to leave.

"Yamanaka…" I say impatiently. She still doesn't move.

"Hey Haruno, you don't look so good."

Thanks a lot, but you've already told me that at least twice. Now will you leave me alone?

"Thanks," I say sarcastically, my impatience getting the better of me.

"You know if something's wrong you can tell me."

I stare at her. That was…random. But I'm sick of everyone patronizing me. First Tenten, then my teachers and now her.

"Whatever," I snarl and walk quickly past her and into the subway station.

As I ride the subway I think over my encounter and I find myself becoming even more angry (if possible) at Yamanaka. How dare she? She doesn't know a thing about me and suddenly she just decides to come up and insult me, and then she tries to help me. Yeah, right and I'm a millionaire.

I don't understand her at all. Did her friends dare her to befriend me or was this her idea of a joke. Because it's not funny! Not one fucking bit!! I'm practically steaming with anger as I get off the subway station. I walk into the bathroom, lock the door and then my fist goes through the mirror. The shards dig into my hand but I pay them no heed. I draw my fist back and punch the mirror again, leaving a trickle of blood.

"Why-" my fist collides with the broken mirror again, "Why, Goddammit?! Stupid! Fucking! Why-" And again, "What the fuck did I ever do?!" I yell, "What did I ever do to deserve this?!" Blood is seeping down the wall and into the sink. For some reason I don't feel the pain, "It's not fair! It's not…"

Angry tears are now coursing down my cheeks and I wipe them away with my uninjured hand. I rest my forehead on the sink and slam my hand into the mirror again. I don't know how long I stand there; punching the mirror, completely oblivious to everything around me.

When I open my eyes again I feel a horrible stinging in my hand. I stare at it for a while in morbid curiosity; almost all the skin has been tore off and I see bright red flesh peeking through. My other hand grasps for the sink and I turn the water on and stick my hand under it. I immediately recoil and adjust the temperature. After all the blood has been washed away, I inspect it carefully. Amazingly, I don't see any glass splinters in my hand. I put my numb hand down and stare into the blood-stained broken mirror. I see an angry little girl. Tears are streaked down her cheeks, but there is no emotion in her eyes. She looks dead. She is too skinny, too tall, too weak. I sink to my knees. I am that angry little girl. I am that pitiful creature in the mirror. I am that selfish, trapped, egocentric child. But I don't want to be. I want to be free. I want to be loved. I don't want to be alone. But I'm not free, I'm not loved, and I am alone. And I hate it. I hate it because it hurts me, no matter how much I try to deny it, or hide it. The horrible feeling is eating me alive, it has been eating me alive ever since she died. And left me alone again.

A laugh erupts from my throat. How sad I am. How incredibly sad. A sad, stupid child. I stare at my hand again. I wonder if it will scar. I pull myself over to the toilet paper and wrap some around my bleeding hand.

I titter again. My laugher gets louder and I grab the toilet seat to steady myself.

Here I am, lying in a subway bathroom, clutching toilet paper around my hand that I maimed by punching a mirror countless times. Gigantic tears are rolling down my face and predictably my laughter turns into sobs. Great, heart-wrenching sobs. I lie my head in my arms and sob myself to sleep.

How sad Haruno Sakura is. How incredibly sad.

I open my eyes. I am lying in a white room. I sit up and remember. Yamanaka, the subway, the bathroom, the mirror, and my tears. I look at my watch. It reads 9:30pm. But that can't be right. It's morning I am sure of it. Then I notice something odd. My watch is red. Stained red. With blood. My blood. I blink. It's broken. My blood has leaked into the watch and broken it. I look down my arm and see the once white toilet paper. I gingerly pull off the paper and examine my hand. I have to go to the store and buy a proper bandage and by some alcohol to disinfect it otherwise the consequences are unthinkable. I pull myself to my feet and wrap another piece of paper around my hand. I look into the broken mirror. The blood had dried to a rusty color. I open the door and look at the time on the clock. 10:30am. Wait, isn't today…a school…day. I freeze in the doorway. SHIT!

I quickly blend into the crowd. I walk up the subway stairs and find a convenience store. The cashier stares at my bleeding hand, but makes no comment. I ask to use the bathroom and he lets me. I pour the bottle of alcohol over my hand and hope that it's not too late. I wash my hand again and carefully wrap the bandage around it. I thank the confused cashier and walk to the bus stop and take the bus to school. I'll be really late, but I can always blame it on public transportation. By the time I make it to school it's eleven. I wouldn't bother coming in at all if it weren't for the fact that if I don't show up I'll have to come in for detention on Saturday. I go to the office where a man with a toothpick in his mouth (2) gives me a pass without even listening to my excuse. What a weird school.

I walk in late to Mitarashi Anko's biology class, I give her the pass and walk over to my seat, aware that everyone is staring at me and my hand. And of course, Yamanaka's in that class. Someone up there hates me. Really hates me. We're studying the Krebs Cycle (3) and about halfway through the class, my previously numb hand starts to throb. I bite the inside of my lip and bear it. In the middle of Literature I get a note from my homeroom teacher (Hatake) which says to meet him after school because I wasn't here for my initial meeting during my free period.

After school is over, I pack up my books and take my time walking over to his office in the East Wing; he'll be late anyway. By this time, I've sorta gotten used to the pain but I wish I could take a painkiller of some sort. In the beginning he asks me all the usual questions, (Do you have a boyfriend yet? When was the last time you got laid? Do you use protection? etc.,)

I tell him for the millionth time this year that I don't have a boyfriend, I'm a virgin (and proud of it!)…need I say more? Personally, I doubt I'll ever get a boyfriend or get married. In my opinion people are disgusting. They are the most vile and dirty creatures on earth and I can't imagine wanting to fuck one, much less touch one, a thing that Tenten never understood. I've never been interested in boys and I doubt I ever will be. Hatake doesn't seem to understand that. Sex-obsessed maniac.

Then he starts to ask me more serious questions like what my relationship with my parents is. I decided to be the normal teen and complain about my mother and father not understanding me. For some reason Hatake didn't look convinced. When he asked what I did to my hand I told him I was carrying something glass and I tripped and fell. For some reason he looked like he didn't believe me on that either. Is he psychic or something? Finally he's done with his questioning (interrogation!) and lets me go. I'm walking right outside the school when I see them.

They're a bunch of the 'cool kids' who couldn't graduate last year because they failed. The entire school knows they're drug dealers, but there's no proof. What I see now shows me that they are not only drug dealers, but addicts themselves.

I watch impassively as one of them with strange silver-colored hair, Yakushi, I think, pulls up his sleeve and injects morphine into his vein. It's also rumored that they're part of some Yakuza group. Either way, they're on school property and even though it's not during school I have to stop them. For their own good as well as the rest of the schools'. They don't even notice me walking up because they're so high. Usually I wouldn't bother them, but I'm in a bad mood and if Hatake comes this way he'll know that I didn't do anything.

"Excuse me," I say quietly, "You're going to have to turn that over to me."

I don't think Yakushi even hears me, but his friends do.

"What the fuck, bitch?!" one of them wearing an odd looking spider web insignia on his shirt says loudly, "You want some?"

"No. You need to give those to me," I point to the needles that Yakushi is holding, "And anything else you're holding. They're not allowed on school grounds and I'm going have to report you."

They all laugh. Loudly. I grit my teeth in anger.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" asks a girl with magenta colored hair, "You think we're just going to give them to you?"

"Yes. And hurry, I have to catch a train."

They all stare at me. Yakushi mumbles something.

"What you say, Kabuto?"

"Tell her to go away," he says .

All his friends snicker, "Back off, bitch. Otherwise you're going get trouble."

I raise my eyebrows, "Oh really. You're the ones who are going to get in trouble. In fact, by not cooperating with me you're making it worse."

"In fact, by not cooperating with me you're making it worse," mocks a boy whom I'm sure is wearing pink makeup, "Geez, what a stuck-up little fucker, huh?"

"You're annoying us, Haruno," says the last of the four, but certainly not the least if you get what I mean, "Get out of here before we pound you."

My hand chooses this opportune moment to throb painfully and I don't have enough time to duck the punch. He hits me right in the jaw and I slam into the fence. This is not good. Why did I think it was a good idea to try and take drugs from a bunch of addicts?

I'm cornered now and it's not like on the streets where there's people everywhere. It's an hour after school ended and there's no one around. The boy in the makeup kicks me hard in the stomach before I have enough time to get up and I cry out in pain. The fat kid lunges at me again, but this time I roll out of the way and kick him right in the face. I stand up quickly and dodge another hit by the kid in the makeup. Being thin has it's advantages and I use them to their fullest extent. Suddenly, a fist collides with my nose and I yell out and fall to the ground.

"You little BITCH!!"

I struggled to get up and nearly succeed before I'm kicked again and my back hits the wall. I'm aware that my nose and jaw are bleeding profusely. I crouched against a wall and four large figures are looming above me. I inwardly curse. Shit, this is going to hurt.

"What should we do with her, Tayuya?"

"I say we beat the shit out of her and dump her in an alley."

"Who asked you, fatty!"

While they're arguing I spring up. They guy in the makeup grabs the wrist of my uninjured hand, I struggle weakly, but to no avail.

"Heh, maybe we should break your other hand," says the girl.

"Not a bad idea…" he trails off and I brace myself.

Suddenly I hear voices.

"…power…youth! When…understand…rival Kakashi?"

"…not…Gai…go home."

The voices get louder. The four (I doubt Yakushi even knows what's going on) freeze.

"Damn," mutters the kid with the spider, "You got off easy this time, Haruno. Don't mess with us again."

My wrist is released and they leave quickly, dragging Yakushi with them. I pull myself around the corner and wait until Maito and Hatake walk by; Maito yelling about 'the power of youth' all the way.

I drag my tired body back into the thankfully unlocked school. I can't take the subway looking like this. My nose and jaw are bleeding and I use the bandage on my hand to stifle the blood; I can't afford to get any on my clothes. My wrist is still throbbing and I'm definitely going to have bruises on my back and stomach. I wince as I enter the bathroom and look in the mirror. Great. The combination of my hand and then this is going to make everyone think I'm being abused or something. I sigh and wash my face off with lukewarm water and soap. I don't think anything is broken which is very lucky, but it'll definitely bruise. Lovely.

I stand up too quickly and I feel dizzy. Fuck, maybe I should stay here for a while. Well, at least until the room stops spinning. I lean against the sink and sigh again. There's no way I'm going to let them get away with this. I'll write out detention slips tomorrow as soon as I figure out who they were. One was Yakushi…er, Kabudo, or something like that. The girl…I think they called her 'Tayuya' or something like that and I don't know anything about the others. My injured face twists into a smirk. I'll take pleasure in getting them thrown out and arrested. Revenge will be mine!

Suddenly, my smirk disappears and I suddenly have a not-so-happy thought. I think back to the article. "The police have not yet discovered the murderer and have no leads," it said. I stare sadly and then angrily at the bathroom door. The bastard who murdered her hasn't been caught. He's still out there, free. My fingernails dig into my palms.

"You had better pray that we never meet," I think, "Because if we do, the police won't even be able to find the pieces!"

Blood trickles down both hands. And then the tears.

How sad Haruno Sakura is. How incredibly sad.

(1) Shizune.

(2) Genma.

(3) The Krebs Cycle is evil. I got a 16/45 on that test.

A/N: O.O…wow. This is really angsty. I might have to change the genre to Romance/Angst. Anyway, I won't be updating for a long time because of Exams. For those of you who haven't taken them: Exams are evil. Beware. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and thanks to my awesome beta Sleeping Soundly. Please review!