Homecoming Queen
BB
In my beginning is my end.
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Chapter 3
Aide Memoire
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As soon as the Uchiha dropped his eyes in indifference and strolled away to his table of friends, I found myself snapping out of the fixture of old memories that had me in a trance.
I could hear the fuss around the noisy cafeteria. But where I sat, there was a pregnant silence.
Tenten and Kiba regarded me with friendly curiosity; Hinata just stared into her plate of macaroni, Choji was eating slowly, really slowly, his tiny eyes fixed on me.
Naruto goggled, Ino had a knowing look.
"What?" I asked self-consciously.
Tenten chuckled lightly and gestured subtly to the faraway table where he sat. "You and Uchiha having a glaring contest, huh? What's he done?"
I found myself twitching with irritation. "Nothing," I muttered, and bit off a large section of my pizza which was freezing cold by now.
Suddenly, I saw that every one of them wore those annoying, meaningful expressions with amusement in their eyes and chuckles on their lips, which made me want to a) bolt b) throw my lunch in their faces.
"I don't think it was a glaring contest, Ten," Ino said, a mischievous sparkle in her aquamarine pools. "Rather, it was a staring contest."
Ino! Talk about getting the wrong idea.
Kiba frowned and shook his head. "The way Sakura was glaring at him: well, it was kind of scary."
I felt a fierce pleasure striking my discomfit at that. If looks could kill, the phrase popped in my mind, I'd happily make use of that sinless way of homicide.
"Oh, it'll pass," Ino said indifferently, leaning back in her chair, one finger twirling a lock of her fine, blonde hair. "But there seems a connection there, don'cha think?"
Naruto, who hadn't spoken anything since, piped up eagerly. "You guys should definitely hang out! Dark and light—"
"Hey, it doesn't mean that!" Kiba said loudly.
"Why are you getting so hot?" Naruto considered Kiba with disgust, and then looked back at me. "He's in my Math class. He's a bastard, but he's okay. He's fine," he tacked it in the end, apparently wanting to make a good impression of the subject.
I gawped at him. How could he have forgotten so easily? How he could he forgotten the moments where he had narrowly missed being choked, beaten to death by that demented version of the Uchiha? Frankly, the way he was speaking now about the latter, it indicated nothing but friendliness, if not that, then pleasant familiarity.
Naruto's big blue sapphires were open and clear, and I could see none of the old hatred in it. Such a scatterbrained boy.
He was calm and joyful, and I was bothered. I had been distressed for such a long time about that first of the subsequent incidents. The thing that had haunted me—that manic look in the Uchiha's eyes as they beat each other up—it didn't seem to affect Naruto at all.
I didn't know what to feel for this happy-go-lucky blond: exasperation or affection.
"Okay, Naruto, we get your point," Ino was saying with an air of finishing the conversation and starting another—probably one of her gossips and boys—and I was glad.
But my relief evaporated when I identified the look in her eye. That mischief.
I groaned inwardly. Ino was never going to leave me alone.
The excited crowd of students gathered in front of the school bulletin board was boisterous and loud enough that I could hear them as the five of us—I, Naruto, Ino, Tenten, and Hinata—elevated to the fifth floor. Anyone could easily pinpoint that most of the concentration was female.
"'Sup with that, you think?" Naruto said, cocking his head to one side.
Ino strutted past him, partially knocking him over and earning a disapproving grunt, and pushed her way into the crowd. I hesitated, and then steeled myself.
As I sidled beside Ino, I found her in apparent bliss and excitement. Her aquamarines sparkled as if she was already fantasizing in another world, and then she grabbed me by both shoulders, taking me aback.
"Look!" I looked. The green bulletin board, decorated with the standard leaves and school notices, news, date sheets, time tables, etcetera, now displayed a flashing golden yellow flyer, which contrasted hugely with the other dour colors of navy, black and white. On large red letters was inscribed:
THE HOMECOMING DANCE
KONOHA HIGH SCHOOL
6TH OCTOBER, 2013
SATURDAYNIGHT, 8 P.M.
THIS TIME IT'S THE JUNIOR YEAR TO BE CROWNED
TO PREPARE FOR THIS BRILLIANT EVENT AND THE CORONATION OF OUR NEW HOMECOMING KING AND QUEEN, THERE IS GOING TO COMMENCE A "HOMECOMING WEEK"
VOTES WILL BE PUT FOR THE CHOSEN CANDIDATES, THE NAMES OF WHICH SHALL BE GIVEN IN WITH CONSENT, AND COUNTED BEFORE THE CORONATION CEREMONIES AND THE DANCE. AS AN UPSHOT TO THE CEREMONY, THERE WILL BE A NIGHT GALA AND A BONFIRE TO CELEBRATE, ON 5TH OCTOBER, FRIDAY NIGHT, 7 P.M.
MAY THE BEST BOY AND GIRL WIN THIS IMPORTANT POSITION.
—V.P. SHIZUNE
—KHS DANCE COMMITTEE
Ah. I understood there and then why Ino was so overexcited, and the next words out of her mouth were quite expectable—
"I'm participating, and I'm gonna win!"
I tried pointing out a major blockage to her, because being fully familiar with Ino's nature as a former rival as well as best friend, I knew that she would want me to tag along with her. And I was in no mood, especially since this was my first day after a whole absent year. I needed to settle before jumping in competitions.
Besides, how would I win? Being Homecoming Queen proved that you were acknowledged by all, the teachers, the council and the students, and I wasn't—
No! I realized with a sudden resounding crash in my head that hauled me back to my present. That was the old Sakura. The one who always felt inferior and in the process really made herself inferior.
So perhaps I really could do it. If Ino voiced her likely suggestion.
"Hey, don't you need to be picked up by the council?" I asked. This was almost certainly the toughest thing that could come in the way.
She was still staring at the flyer, her sea-colored eyes shining as she probably contemplated the glamorous possibility of placing the crown on her blonde head.
"Yeah, you do! And don't worry…" She grinned slyly. "I've tried all year to be in their good books. Besides, I have this feeling. I will be chosen."
I rolled my eyes. "That's Naruto's line."
"Hey, hey!" She jumped around and grabbed my shoulders, digging her long manicured fingernails in my top. "Why don't we both sign up?"
See?
"I think I need time to settle down—"
"Oh you don't," she said offhandedly. "You're a genius, Haruno. Every teacher around knows that. You just need the votes from the people, which you'll get. The council counts more, and it's done. We'll both go, and then there'll be rivalry, sister! What do you say?"
Unless Karin and her accomplices are on the council, I thought venomously.
Then I shrugged, letting out a breath. I had already decided it. "'Kay. I'm open."
"Seriously?" She seemed pretty surprised I had caved in so quickly. She narrowed her eyes shrewdly at me for all of a millisecond, and then relaxed, turning away from the crowd.
"You really are changed. I'm sort of glad."
Ah, the last hour.
The vestibule was swarming with noisy, boisterous students, bumping into each other and laughing their heads off, chatting, slamming lockers shut with thunderous bangs. The air was suffused with the usual smell of a high school—where all from freshmen to seniors are puberty-going or fully matured—perspiration, grunge, chemicals, paint and whatnot mixed into one particular odor, the heaviest of which was perfume and body mist.
I wrinkled my nose as I swept pass a tall, bubbly cheerleader literally bathing herself in deodorant, and somehow it felt really repellent. I knew I would be able to breathe more freely as the place vacated.
Walking towards my locker, I felt more positive than ever—my first day had gone grand. I was doing great. And this was the first chapter of my new life which was going to be ruined by no one.
I positively dismissed the peeks, interested glances, ogles, or any glares if any—and I could not lie to myself: I relished it.
Maybe I am becoming cheerleader material, I thought wryly.
Immersed in my thoughts, I didn't notice how the stench of the hallway was getting stronger by the passing second. I was one step away from my locker when it became overwhelming, and I covered my nose with one hand. What on earth, did they forget to clean up garbage spills or what?
The moment I twisted my combination lock and pulled open the metal door—it fell.
It fell on my new white boots, and I thought I would explode the next second—whether from revulsion, or anger, or hate, I did not know.
The locker was completely trashed. My book-bag was on the floor of the locker, half of my books spilling out and the navy blues and greens of the hardbacks were now disgustingly decorated in crimson. The whole of it was painted red, and the stench was overpowering. My first wild thought was ketchup—someone went crazy with gallons of ketchup—because it did smell like rotten tomatoes.
The feeble, dead remains of a gray rat half-smeared with red lay on my feet. Its beady eyes stared up at mine, its tiny head lolling on the floor—neck slashed open like with a cat's vicious claw.
I couldn't tell how much of the red substance in my locker was sauce and how much of it was the corpse's blood. All other thoughts vanished from my brain as I staggered backward, kicking at the feeble little thing until it hit the wall, and clamped my hands over my stomach as the nausea swept over me, making me gag.
"Holy shit, what's that? You okay?"
"Ew, a rat! Gross!"
"Sakura-san! What happened to my floral embodiment of youth?"
"Shut up, Lee! Look at the state of her—gah!"
The noises faded in and out of focus as I tried to keep in the urge to heave and retch, all the while gulping in sharp breaths to drive away the stink. I swallowed, as the nausea gradually passed.
Thank God I didn't throw up.
An arm supported my back, warm and comforting, and shortly after, Ino's voice followed. "You okay, Sak? What happened here?"
I could not bring myself to glance back at my scarlet locker, but I did. It was a moment before I brought myself together. "I—I don't know. Someone—"
I looked around at the loose circle of people. The hallway was half-empty now, and as I watched, some of the students pinched the bridge of their noses and sending apologetic glances in my direction, skidded away. Among the ones around me were Ino, Tenten, Rock Lee, Kiba, and…a new guy.
Lee, also a fellow junior back from old times, hovered over me, his neat, bowl-cut hair a glossy black and his round eyes were wide with concern as he fired queries at me about what had occurred. Normally I would have snubbed him on his frequent tries at a conversation about 'how is the springtime of your youth going, Sakura-san?', 'Will you bless me with your youthful presence this evening?', 'you look youthful as ever, beautiful Sakura!', but right now I didn't have the strength.
My unease and annoyance wasn't directed at him. A feeling in my gut, queasy and disturbingly familiar, was troubling me more.
Tenten and Kiba had wandered over to the mess, noses wrinkled as they speculated. Ino handed me her bottle of water which I gulped down in one huge swig. Feeling better, I forced my knees to stand straight and succeeded.
"Who would do this to you, my youthful cherry blossom, on your first day at this youthful school?" Lee was asking, and it was all I could do to disregard him.
"My stuff is ruined," I mumbled.
Ino grimaced. "I don't envy you. Well, you'll have to buy more, because I think it has soaked in to the depths of your bag."
"How weird," said a new, monotone voice and I instantly looked towards my right. Just a few feet away, there was the new person standing, I hadn't seen him ever before. His hair was an inky backdrop against a face as pale as a ghost—as if he had spent several years hidden from the touches of sunlight. He was tall and strong-looking, but still, slender, his chin cupped in one pale white hand as he gazed at the chaotic scene—and I couldn't help thinking he had a resemblance to Uchiha Sasuke.
There was something in his flat black, hooded eyes, and all the same, there was nothing.
They seemed blank—and mysterious all the same.
An unexpected shiver passed through me—more because of his flat, inflectionless eyes than the aftermath of the shock—as I looked away. Kiba shouted at that very instant.
"Sakura! There's something written here!"
I sucked in a sharp breath, and pushed away Kiba a little bit forcefully to get a better look. I had not taken notice of anything but the dead remains of the rat and the red floor before I nearly retched, but now I looked more closely.
I heard Ino gasp and Tenten take a step backward.
On the background of gray metal, block capitals in the striking shade of crimson which could be either the tomato or the rat's blood, were inscribed. A harebrained message—a greeting, and a warning.
PUNISHMENT IS FOR THOSE WHO FORGET, YOU RAT…
…SAKURA HARUNO.
I slammed the door behind me and leant.
My hands were crossed over my heart, an unknowing gesture, while I leant against the door, and slowly slid down until I was sitting on the marble. I had taken the bus and arrived home, dazed. But as soon as my feet crossed the grass of my well-furnished front garden, my instincts caused me to run and run until I reached the safety of my own bedroom in my huge, empty house.
I knew who was behind it. Memories popped up from deep, compressed recesses of my mind, and I remembered what a major mistake it was not to heed a warning—
I clamped my hands over my pink locks. No, no, no—don't go there.
But wasn't this exactly what the message had warned me about?
Punishment is for those who forget. I had been trying to forget all my past, clean myself of the contamination and humiliation that I had become used to feeling under pressure, and begin a new life.
They wanted me to remember.
I didn't realize that I was digging my fingers into my scalp, my nails passing through hair to skin, hard enough to bring beads of blood. It was the pain that made me realize—that I had already begun my new life, free of past. Wasn't that what I was thinking today?
And I would be damned if I let history repeat itself. This time, it had to be in my hands.
Not Karin's.
Yamanaka Ino
Ino was very worried as she dialed the number in hurried, practiced movements and pressed the phone to her ear.
"The number you have dialed is not responding at the moment. Please—"
Damn. She threw the sleek mobile phone on her bed. She had been trying to contact Sakura since she left the school. When they discovered the note written in crimson substance, Ino had thought about the dead rat, the red locker, and the note as a joke. Perhaps someone had tried to pull a mean prank at Sakura since she was new at school for the junior year, and this wasn't unusual. Actually, there was a history of student lockers being trashed just for fun, as trickery. It was the oldest trick down the road, though possibly the meanest.
However when she had glanced at Sakura's petrified profile, as she read and reread the note, she had done a double take: the rosette's emerald eyes were huge with an inflection that could easily be identified as utmost terror. Her lip trembling, eyes wide, her hands clutched to her chest, she had never looked so vulnerable and so frightened.
And then in the next second, she was running down the hall and into the parking lot. Ino followed, along with Lee, while the others fetched the school hygiene caretaker. But she had only reached the parking lot when she noticed Sakura clambering onto a bus that was full and it instantly drove away, roaring as it sped down the road.
She had told Lee not to mention it to the others, and left. On the way, she had left as many messages on Sakura's number as she could, with a large number of calls which were futile, as they weren't answered.
Damn, Sakura! Pick up the phone!
Something was off beam, Ino felt sure.
Unidentified
It lay in waiting. It was patient, because it had learned life's most important lessons—wrath is fire, fire is wrath, and it is the most powerful weapon. And to work this weapon…patience is mandatory. An inevitable spark to gasoline would consume everything in its path, but only if it were to be released at a time.
Yes. Time. Time was what it had hated, and time was what it now needed—time, whether it be past, present or future, was its only company in this sinisterly dark corner where it had been imprisoned.
A/N: My sincerest apologies for being late. Reviews are delicious.
berryboom