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Chapter 9 – Out of the Light I Fear, and Into the Darkness Where I Dwell

Dear Temari,

I fucked up. I fucked up big time. You should hate me. I hate me!

I'm so sorry. I am so sorry, I don't know where to begin! Damn, I sound like a moron

Hope we can put this aside us?

I just want you to know that although I slept with your best friend, I would never choose him over you. You are so precious to me, and beautiful! Not in that way, but you are way hotter than Shika anyway and I just thought I'd mention that. Not that I'm trying to flatter you, or anything, it's true he has that stupid ponytail, and he always smells like deer.

Wow I'm running out of paper.

I'm so afraid of losing you. So afraid that you won't be able to forgive me. I only wished I'd known that before I stabbed you in the back like this.

Sigh. There are so many things I need to say, but you deserve to hear it in person. That way you can scream at me. That's almost fair, right?

I've missed you Temari. Not just for these past two days. It's been a long time. Please call when you get back.

Ino

"What are you reading?"

She jumped, even at the sound of his whispery voice. It was so unlike him to talk, she had grown being accustomed to his silence. But it was a good change, and the sound of his surprisingly delicate voice brought a slight, warm grin to her face.

"Just a letter from someone at school."

"The quiet one?"

She eyed the boy curiously. "No, not this time."

"…Is she a friend?"

"Yes." The response was involuntary, and for that her grin blossomed into a full-blown smile. Yes, she certainly was a friend. They would definitely talk, and Temari would definitely give that girl a piece of her mind. But friends all the same.

"Ah."

It was still difficult for him; she could hear the strains in his voice as he attempted to make conversation, but it was an attempt, and for that she could comfortably smile. "GaaGaa?"

"Temari…"

"Fine, fine…yeah, I'm pushing it. I ain't afraid to admit it!" She smiled, turning down the lights. "So…Gaara the man, would you like to hear another story?"

"I'm hardly of age to hear bedtime stories…"

"Suit yourself, Gaara the man." She got up and opened the door, leaving it slightly ajar as she took painstakingly slow steps down the hallway to the lobby. "Any minute now. Any minute." As she neared the bend that lead to the cafeteria, she heard it – the soft, raspy voice that she had trained herself to be alert for.

"Temari…"

Sighing, she walked back to his room. "One of these days, I'm just going to hop into the car before you can change your mind again."

He huffed in anger, folding his arms like a child. The action looked out of place on his tall frame, and it sadly reminded her of why she was here; why he was here.

Temari reached under the bed and fished out the worn, slightly tattered teddy bear, offering it to him. When he refused it, she shoved it into his arms, and he didn't protest. "So I was at the mall with Tenten one day, when I saw these beauuuitful sling-backs, and they were in the perfect shade of turquoise-

And it wasn't long before the black circles of his eyes could be seen as he fell into a steady sleep.

Sometimes we woke up every few hours, but it was progress.

Progress, Ino. Progress.

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It had been days since he remembered his last decent meal. Already he could see his flesh clinging tautly to his lean muscles, stretched across them like vinyl wrap. Those countless nights, digging through old cabinets, strumming away his pain. It had certainly taken a toll on his body, which screamed for the fruit cup she so feebly poked at with her spoon.

At that moment, the apple she had picked up toppled from her hand as she collapsed onto the table. It produced a hollow, echoing sound as the bright, juicy fruit rolled until it nudged him in the elbow.

The fruit had nudged him in the elbow, as if ensnaring him in its irresistible seduction. He picked it up. How long it had been since he had thought of food.

"You're not even a person" his conscience spat at him.

He swatted his conscience away, bringing the apple up to his lips. So tired…just a little higher…

But at that precise moment, fate would have it that the forbidden fruit would be destined to a rotten death as it fell once again, this time to the floor.

Sasuke let the forbidden fruit fall from his grasp as all thoughts were severed from his brain, and a million different things filled his head. An internal storm raged within his head, and he simply allowed his feet to take off.

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Sakura felt a perverse sense of excitement tingle up her spine, multiplying in her fingers as she eyed Ken from across the cafeteria. He avoided her gaze, nodding subtly at her when she had eagerly given him the cue. It was sickening, the joyous apprehension she felt at what was to come. It was sickening, in the same way that you feel a sickening sense of pride at seducing another's husband; cheating on your diet; spreading vile rumors. It was the sickeningly delicious taste of power.

And Sakura was no stranger to it. There was always that last-minute hesitation – guilt's feeble attempts at holding her back.

Sakura turned to face Uchiha Sasuke, who at the moment was watching Hinata. Oh, Sasuke-kun, is this how it's always going to be? Me, watching you watch some other girl?

It's no wonder she was always sighing. There was too much for her soul to bear – she just had to let some of it out.

Was it possible that this is the way it was destined to be? Honestly, for a girl who had to balance all of her extracurriculars and immense social status, this was too much, even for Haruno Sakura. And she couldn't help but wonder…

"Is it…even worth it?"

Turning once again to observe the object of her frustration, Sakura found the answer to her question:

He was, to put it frankly, perfect.

The smoldering eyes. The air of intrigue and mystery. The devilishly handsome face. The perfectly toned physique. The intelligence, the wealth, the reputation.

The thought of all that perfection going to waste, belonging to someone else – she couldn't have it.

"Sakura doll, what is that thing on your head?"

"Ne, Oka-san? This?" The cute pink-haired child pointed her stubby little finger at the daisy entwined in her silken locks.

"No doll, your outrageously big forehead." The beautiful older woman snatched her daughter's face in her grasp, creating mental lines of contour and bone structure, but shook her head. "No, I suppose you're much too young to get that surgically fixed. And I'm sure you'll grow into it with age. But yes, darling, I mean that hideous weed tangled into your beautiful hair."

Little Sakura made a face. "Ie, Oka-san. It's not a weed; it's a daisy."

Her mother scoffed at her antics. "Why, if you spend so much time muddling about in the garden, the neighbors will mistake you for a lowly servant girl, and we certainly can't have that."

Mrs. Haruno reached for the flower, but Sakura jumped back a little. "Demo, Suzumi-chan picked it for me."

The emeralds in her mother's famous eyes shattered into dust. "Suzumi-chan? You mean the maid's daughter."

"Hai, Suzumi-chan is my friend!" Sakura proceeded to smile, but her mother's venomous voice made it short-lived.

"Play with dogs, Sakura, and you'll become infested with fleas. Do you want that? Is that really what you want?"

She stared at the tips of her shiny black mary janes. "Ie, Oka-san."

"You don't want to associate with the lower class. You want the pretty, nicely-dressed friends. The best friends, right?"

"Hai, oka-san."

Mrs. Haruno reached behind her and plucked a small red rose from the bush, holding it in front of Sakura's face. Her face became impatient, as if she were expecting Sakura to do something.

Understandingly, Sakura pulled the daisy from her hair and let it fall to the floor and her mother tucked the rose in its place. The thorns started to scratch at her scalp, but she dared not complain.

"A rose, my sweet. Only the best for my rose."

She looked at Sasuke with longing. "Only the best."

She brushed guilt's fingers away from her shoulders, now free from its release, and crossed the building to where Ken was. Her eyes zeroed in on Hinata, with every bit of antipathy she could conjure. "What are you waiting for?"

His eyes were down-turned, sad. Defeated. "You are aware, Haurno-san, of what this will do."

"I didn't ask for you to go moral on me. I'm asking you to save my sister from her sick ways."

He looked down at the floor, disgusted with his weakness. Then, inhaling deeply, as if the air were fumes of poison that would numb him from what he was about to do, he turned and began to walk in her direction.

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It was dark. There was a thin sliver of light pooling into her room, but she shied away from it. The light always revealed too much. She was just fine in the dark, thankyouverymuch.

She sat there, crouched against a corner, staring into the darkness that was so safe. She could see, fear, feel nothing. And that was okay, too.

But then something terrible happened. Fireworks exploded off in the room. The bright, beautiful lights filled the small room, inching closer to her. She opened her mouth in a silent scream that no one could hear. Not that there was anyone to hear.

Damn it.

"Aren't they beautiful, lass?"

Damn them. Damn the light.

"I absolutely love Hanabi!"

She covered her eyes, but the bright lights continued to explode inside her head. Hanabi. Hanabi. Hanabi. Somebody stop the Hanabi.

The beautiful, kindly woman patted the bulge of her stomach, laughing beautifully.

"What is that?"

The small girl nodded, still confused by the mysterious lump protruding from her mother.

"This, this is Hanabi, my little one."

"Ga? Hanabi?"

She smiled, the lovely folds on her eyes twinkling magically. "Hai. It will be Hanabi. Our Hanabi."

And the small girl ran her hand over the lump cautiously, jumping with a start as she felt a kick from inside.

She screamed, she screamed, the white noise enveloping the small, dark room. She pressed into the corner, into the dark she felt accustomed to and the light she had grown to fear. No, please. No. Stop.

Stop.

She flinched, opening her eyes, waking to find her arms ensnared by a pair of hands. She blinked as the cafeteria lights filtered into her eyes, flinching again.

Tenten's mouth was formed into an "o" and she was violently fighting against the hands of two of the Queen Bee's underlings.

Hinata tried to halt herself, but she was roughly dragged by someone with a shock of red hair, tied into a low ponytail. Who was he again? President of some club…

But it was all so fast. Soon she was in the middle of the cafeteria, where the red-haired boy sat. The others at the table stared at her in confusion, and she at them. The boy, the one who had dragged her, and he was staring darkly at the ground. She tried to break away – the eyes were uncomfortable, but there were hands rooting her to the ground.

As time continued to pass, the hands released her, and she saw Sakura before her, falling to her knees before the boy as she pleaded for something. The boy sighed, before reaching into his pocket, and retrieved a small leather-bound book. The other people at the table widened their eyes. They tried talking to him, but suddenly Hinata was overcome with pain as she was forced into a chair, tight ropes cutting into her body.

The hell lord's snakes twisted around her body, stunning her to stone as she sat helplessly and watched their eyes.

Eyes…they were looking at her. So judgmentally. She tried closing her eyes, but she could still feel them searing into her.

It burned, white hot, like head lights. The thought of them made her thrash violently, and the pain became unbearable at her resistance. Her arms screamed out in pain, but still the ropes cut into her.

Their eyes, the judgment.

She opened her eyes, finding herself immersed in darkness once again.

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"Save Hinata!" Her shrill scream was enough to pierce through the rumbling noise of the cafeteria, reducing it to silence.

One of Sakura's friends, with a face pseudo-sympathy, grabbed Hinata's arms, forcing her onto a chair and winding a rope around her. The boy reluctantly reached into his pocket, grabbing his Bible. With shaking hands and shaking heart, he pressed it against her forehead, as if he were wielding a white-hot brand.

"God of Heaven, release this woman from her sinful lusts, her perverse desires, her severed heart. Salvage her from the bonds of the evil one, and deliver her from her perversion of your beauty, and your bestowment of love."

"Ken, what the hell!" One of the girls at the table sprang to her feet, ripping the Bible from his hands. "Have you been watching 'Saved' one too many times? Well let me quote it for you: "This is not a weapon!"

The other members of the Christian club rose to their feet, glaring angrily at him. "What's the meaning of this? Do you seriously accuse this girl of homosexuality? You can't be serious!"

He shook his head. "You don't understand." He spoke so quietly, only those at the table could hear. "If not me, then someone else will do it. I take full responsibility for my sins. I'll bear it all here, so you won't have to."

Sakura grabbed him, staring fiercely into his eyes. "Do something!" she said, louder than necessary. At the sound of her voice, the student body leaned closer, looking on at the scene in varying degrees of surprise or disgust. "Save Hinata from her perversion of God's creation!"

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Sasuke looked up, to see her being dragged away.

He watched as they confided her to a chair, and she cowered in her entrapment as the whole school looked on at her like a spectacle.

A little girl, cowering in the corner of a room in front of a group of children. They look on, some sympathetic, others mocking.

Sakura knelt onto the ground, screaming, pleading. Yelling into Hinata's face.

An old man. The girl trembling at his feet. Him yelling, humiliating her, shaming her.

Hinata with tears welling in her eyes as they scrutinize her; a leather-bound book shoved into her face.

The little girl cries, as the old man shoves a playbill into her face, ripping it. Tearing out the pages.

The young man runs, snatches the book from his hands, and hits him across the face with it.

A little boy runs, snatching the playbill from the old man.