Instant Message
By "Keelah"

I could almost imagine it, the hand...

As it scrawled the words skilfully across the page... graceful and yet...

With a motive so eerily sinister.

Chapter TWENTY
Blank Perfection

I sat frozen in my seat, my fingers clamping onto the edges of the stool, tighter and harder with every second that passed, turning my knuckles white in the process. It was as though all my muscles contracted, preventing me to move, to turn away just like I so badly wanted. But my neck was stiff and my eyes seemed permanently glued onto the paper before me; no matter how much I tried looking away, I simply couldn't.

From the moment our teacher, Kurenai, had stood up from her desk in the beginning of the class to hand out our sketchbooks, the moment she had pulled those wide and thin blue books out of her table drawer, the moment she carried them and began walking down the aisle, I noticed instantly that something was out of place. Immediately I spotted my art journal jammed in the pack along with the others of the class. Everyone had a similar sketchbook; same colour and design, identical shape and size, and the same-looking Academy logo imprinted on the back: several leaves forming an arch, framing what was in the center of the circle, which was Konoha's spiral-like logo. Perhaps the only difference about the books that distinguished each of our own from the rest was our name written on the inside covers.

Yet even with all the similarities, and the small, barely visible difference, I could easily pick out from the pile the sketchbook that was mine from the dangling pink bead in a shape of a cherry blossom petal, which was tied on a string attached to the top of the bookmark I used for this class. That certain bookmark made mine easy-to-spot, as I always did.

But just as quickly as I identified the sketchbook, I noticed the piece of paper that stuck out from in between its pages. Kurenai hated loose-leaf papers that fell around everywhere when she marks, and I hated being disorganized; so a piece of paper, though barely sticking out from my pad, threatening to slip out any second, was definitely considered out of place.

I stared at the paper, wondering what it might be. Perhaps it was a note from the teacher, or a random misplaced scrap. It could've been anything. Yet the longer I thought about it, the longer I stared, wondering about all the possible things it could be—a note from the teacher, a misplaced scrap piece of paper—I began to grow anxious as a little voice in the back of my head told me it was something worse.

The foreboding feelings stuck until Kurenai came by our table and handed me my blue book. Habitually, it was programmed in my system to say "thanks", being raised with manners. This time however, I was too busy staring at a sheet of paper to even remember anything about etiquette, dumb as that sounds. Kurenai passed by and I remained sitting there, mute.

A moment passed and the sound of soft chattering filled the room. For the first fifteen or so minutes of class, all we did was draw in our journals, of anything and everything, and we were allowed to chat, so long as we did the work. And as the class did just that, I was snapped back to my senses; almost reluctantly, I followed everyone else. Reaching out, I flipped the book open.

Whether I intended it or was by pure coincidence, I did not know. All I knew was that the book had automatically opened to the page where the piece of paper was, inserted loosely in the middle of the sketchbook. For the longest moment, I stared, unable to move, as I read what it said.

Liked my surprise?

Seemed like you did, judging from your reaction at the sight of the dead girl.

─R.

I reviewed the words over and over, until it was wholly embossed on my brain that I need not look on the paper anymore to know what it said. It was no surprise he had been watching me; I already knew he was when he had given me a call then. But the idea that he had been here in the same room I was in at the moment, just several minutes earlier, made me uncomfortable. The idea that he had touched my sketchbook, touched the same pages I drew on every day, with the same hands that had killed three other people, made me uneasy. These books were stored in the top right drawer of the teacher's desk, which Kurenai kept locked at all times—a pretty futile deed, considering she placed the key in the pen and pencil mug holder situated just atop the desk. I didn't know how many people knew that, though; not a lot, probably, but quite a few. I fell in the "quite-a-few" column, but so did the Rogue, it seemed. That idea made me fidgety.

These kinds of facts—how he'd been in the very same room I was right now, just a few minutes before I entered, how he'd laid hands on the very same book that was before me, how he knew where Kurenai hid her desk's keys just as I did—the kinds that linked me to the Rogue, kept me at the edge of my seat. It proved more so that he was real; he felt so close, everywhere, yet just so out of reach. And knowing that he was right in front of me, yet under the radar, barely perceptible, was torturous. He knew me yet, to me, he was none but a stranger. I was, without a doubt, at the disadvantage.

I turned and looked at the window, hoping there was something outside that could serve as a diversion. However, the only thing I saw through the glass was the same park, the same playground, where I found Moegi. It gave a clear view of the area, a perfect angle, and right then I knew where the Rogue had been watching. He'd been here the whole time and stood perhaps by the window I was presently looking out of.

Suddenly, sharing the same perspective with the Rogue made me feel even closer to him, as though he was almost beside me. I turned away, only to have my gaze land back to the dreadful note. I stared at it.

The words were written out in perfect script, so accurate it seemed almost a computerized penmanship. Only the slight difference in the same letters, how some R's curved more than others or how F's flicked off at the bottom while some did not, indicated that it was written by hand.

There was something about the note however, its abruptness, the careless manner in which the leaf was inserted loosely in the book, indicating this was written in haste. I could almost imagine it, the hand, holding a thin, fine-lined pen as it scrawled the words skilfully across the page. The act was hurried, yet graceful, making it look as though it was simply effortless to write perfectly. I could see a hand unconsciously flawless, a hand with a mind of its own.

Graceful and yet, from the words that flowed from its owner's mind, past the arm, down the hand, through the pen and onto the paper, with a motive so eerily sinister. The thought of it had me shuddering.

"Hey." A voice called out, breaking through my reverie. Robotically, I turned and faced Sai, who watched me with a questioning eye. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, letting out a weak "Yeah."

Sai, who probably hadn't heard my inaudible response, went on, "You have this odd look on your face"

"I'm fine." I uttered, louder this time, though I was unable to meet his gaze.

"Want to tell me about it?" I shook my head, "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be okay. Don't look so petrified, hag. It's making you uglier." The criticism was his form of affection. Beside me, I could feel him smirk, though I kept my eyes glued on the table. I knew he was trying to lighten up the mood, which surprised me, really, that Sai would even care.

I shook my head. "You don't get it."

"Of course I don't." He retorted sharply, "'Cause you're not telling me anything." He paused, the silence stretching out for several seconds as I waited for him to continue. After a moment, he spoke in a low whisper, much softer and gentler, "You can tell me, you know. You can trust me. Everything will turn out okay."

I took a quick glance at Sai and found him smiling at me, kind and comforting. With his strong-set jaw and straight, pearly white teeth that was comparable to a supermodel's, his smile was... perfect. But there was something about its nothingness that caught my attention; as though it was practiced a thousand times over in front of a mirror, making it seem almost... hollow.

Almost...

Empty.

"Sakura!" at the sound of my name, I quickly dumped the last of the pieces of paper before turning around to face Ino, jogging over at my direction. She glanced at the garbage can.

"Scrap." I explained, sidestepping to block her view, just in case any part of the message still showed. "From Art."

"Figures." She shrugged, "That class had always wastes paper."

"And since when did you become a tree-hugger?" I inquired as we walked down the hallway, farther and farther from the garbage bin where I had disposed of the Rogue's note—that was, of course, after I'd torn it to pieces.

"Since I found out the boy of my dreams is a nature-lover." Ino replied, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world—which it was, in a way, considering this wasIno, and no drastic change (such as: all of a sudden turning into a lover of nature) would take place in her unless triggered by a boy. In other words, I should've known the pineapple-head Ino was crushing on like a little elementary girl had something to do with this. "Here," she said, shoving me against a window. "Check him out. Over there, by the field. He's watching the clouds. I'm telling you, he's a nature-lover."

I looked out the glass and instantly spotted him, sprawled idly on the grass, looking up at the sky. Uninterested, I let my gaze merely pass him and scanned the rest of the guys scattered across the field along with their dogs. Out of the blue, Ino gave a sigh of fake disappointment.

"I told you to check out Shikamaru." She piped up with a scolding tone that reminded me of my mother (although I couldn't imagine Mom telling me to check out some boy); her tone had a hint of wit to it that I didn't like. "Not look for Uchiha Sasuke."

"Who says I was looking for him?" I snapped, and then glanced back toward the field, "He's not even there."

Ino's face turned mischievous. "A-hah! You noticed."

I scoffed and turned away, before halting in my tracks. "By the way," I said over my shoulder, "I don't think your dream guy's a nature-lover. I think he's just a lazy bum."

"Whatever!" I heard her call from behind me, clearly enjoying my torment. "You're just upset you didn't see Sasuke!"

"Am not!" I shouted back and stomped away, knowing, in the back of my mind, that she was right. Where was Sasuke? He appears when I don't expect him, and disappears when I do expect to see him. I wasn't upset, though I was barely, just a little, very slightly... disappointed.

A little later, out of curiousity, I looked up the word "disappointed" in the thesaurus.

It's synonyms included "let down", "dissatisfied" and, much to my dismay, the word "upset" was part of the list as well.

A little white envelope, about a fourth of a regular bond paper, lay on the floor of my front porch: something I took note of when I got back home from school. Half of it was inserted underneath the front door, covering part of the writing on the envelope—though I didn't need to pull it out to know it said "Sakura".

I looked around, scanning for what, I wasn't really sure; but it calmed me to see the block empty. Cautiously, I bent down and picked up the envelope.

Sakura

It said my name on the front, and seeing the familiar perfection in the handwriting, I instantly knew who it was from. Unconsciously, I opened the front door and let myself in, deciding whether or not to open the note. A moment later, I found myself ripping open the envelope, curiosity getting the best of me.

Inside was a piece of paper. And on the piece of paper, with the same identical calligraphy reading:

You ripped my message to pieces. Then threw it away.

That isn't very nice, now, is it?

Without thinking, I crumpled the sheet and threw it in the garbage.

The Hidden Leaves Academy had always been, in my opinion, too crowded for a private school. Despite its size, the four buildings, the campus' square-kilometre dimension, spacious interior and wide-set corridors never seemed quite enough and still managed to seem full. The hallways were overfilling, and the student count in each class ran up to thirty sometimes.

For the over population of the school, I blamed the board of directors for taking out the limit of enrolees. There used to be a maximum of students the school took in, and a cut-off point of twenty-five students per class. Plus the scholarships: a free full-year enrolment in the academy to especially nerdy kids (as Naruto liked to call them) who couldn't quite afford the ten-grand tuition but nevertheless deserved its high quality education.

Then there were the guys from the special program the Academy was sponsoring; Sasuke's group, who were about an additional thirty to the school's population. Needless to say, the school was filled to capacity beyond comfort.

Hallways were the worst. Imagine your block A on one side of the school, and then your block B on the opposite side, more than half a kilometre away. Between you and your next class is a maze of stairs, corridors and a human obstacle course made up of two thousand students trying to get to their destination. Five minutes to get through that jungle. Rather frustrating and inconvenient, isn't it?

And then: the cafeteria; long line-ups, packed almost skin-to-skin with the people around me. What a perfect day.

I heard a shout of my name, a faint "Sakura!" reaching my ears, barely audible over the crowds' chatters. I looked up and around, scanning over the heads in search for whoever had been calling me.

"Sakura! Sakura!"

More shouts, deafening me, despite the fact that it could barely be heard over the noise inside the caf. It didn't take long before I found what, or rather who, I was looking for. Of course, a hyperactive blonde squeezing through the crowd, literally bouncing his way towards my direction was relatively hard not to notice. I stood unmoving in my spot as I watched Naruto budge through the line, causing a wave of complaints and curses he so obliviously ignored as he came up beside me.

Thinking he only came to budge, I was surprised when he suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the line. "Let's go!"

"Naruto!" I cried out, tugging my hand free, though my attempts were futile against his strong, persistent grip. "I need to eat, you know!"

"Screw the line, I went out and bought ramen!" grinning proudly, he pulled me towards our usual table, where the rest of my friends sat with several cups of noodles scattered in the table before them.

I turned to Naruto, "You bought ramen?"

He scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner, "Well, using Ino's and Lee's money combined. But hey, I'm drove all the way to Ichiraku!"

"Which is just on the next block." Ino interrupted, "We went thirty something on the food and you spend about a cent on gas."

"It's more than that!"

Choosing to ignore the bickering, I plopped down onto a chair and grabbed my own cup. Usually, I'd join them and their pointless arguments and chitchats, but today I hadn't the vigour. Quietly, I opened the cup and dropped my bag on the vacant seat beside me. It missed the chair, the contents spilling out and scattering on the ground.

"Oh shoot," I muttered under my breath. Checking my bag, I found the front pocket zipper left open. Grudgingly, I collected my stuff: pens, lip gloss, compact, wallet, cell, iPod—stuffing them all carelessly back inside. Just as I was doing so, something caught my eye.

Along with my things was a little folded paper; strange, for I didn't recall ever shoving scrap paper in my book bag. What I do remember though, was zipping the front pocket close just before I left Graphics, my last class prior to lunch, and I couldn't remember anytime following that where I zipped it open again.

I picked up the sheet of paper and turned it over, finding my name, for the second time, written in perfect penmanship. In a mechanical-like manner, I unfolded the paper.

Where were you last night? You weren't online. You left me waiting.

I hate waiting. Have I ever told you that Sakura?

—R.

Another note. The third one now.

"Sakura." Startled, I looked up, hiding the note under the table, out of sight, and faced Naruto. "Your face is pale."

"I am light-skinned, you know." I replied, dead-panned. "I'm fine." I dismissed. Under the table, I fiddled with the note, wondering how it got in my bag, even though the answer flashed in clear neon colours in the back of my mind. It had been him who put the note in the pocket of my bag, just as he'd managed to put that insert in my art sketchbook. I hadn't stuffed any loose-leaf paper inside my bag in my prior class, and now here it was, about ten minutes later, so he must've done it in between. But within those ten minutes, I'd been just about everywhere, from the computer lab, to my locker, where I walked among countless of students, and then headed here, to the cafeteria, bumping against just about hundreds of other people. The Rogue could have just easily been one of that hundred; opening the pocket of my bag, slipping in the piece of paper and walking away without zipping it back close could have easily been done within a matter of seconds, effortless and unnoticeable with his skilful hands at work.

It was all too possible, and I accepted the hypothesis, yet what I couldn't take in was how close the Rogue had been to me, yet was able to stay under the radar. We had breathed the same air, and I didn't even know. I had no idea.

Warily, I looked around, scanning the cafeteria. He could've done it while I stood waiting in line. Yet over half the school population ate in the cafeteria, and there was no way to narrow it down. He could be that loner who always ate alone, and had the whole table to himself, or one of the egoistic jocks, or the occasional smoker who always escaped out the back door from the supervisors. He could be anyone.

"Who are you looking for?" Naruto, for the second time, broke my train of thoughts. He was grinning, looking at me just as everyone in our table was doing. Suddenly feeling self-conscious from all the stares, I stopped looking around so much.

"Who says I'm looking for anyone?" I questioned back.

"Oh I know who she's looking for." Ino smiled, sly and knowing; and I glared at her, telepathically telling her to shut up. "...a certain boy named Uchiha Sasuke." Obviously, she didn't get my message. That, or she merely chose to ignore it. And I'm guessing it's the latter.

Naruto's eyes grew wide. "Sasuke?"

"Who's that?"Chouji asked, who stopped only for about a second to talk, and then went right back to eating once again.

"Sasuke Uchiha." Ten-Ten stated, "Part of the bad boys. The one always with the husky dog. You know, with the spikes similar to a chicken?"

"He hangs out with my cousin a lot." Hinata whispered, though knowing her, the low volume was already one of her loudest.

"Oh that dude?" Chouji exclaimed. "He's the guy with the major bangs."

"Bingo." Ten-Ten said.

"Scary." Chouji muttered under his breath.

"Why are you looking for Sasuke?" Naruto questioned, evidently puzzled, as if me looking for the Uchiha was the most illogical thing of all—which, I had to admit, was.

"I'm not—"

"Oh, don't you know?" Ino slurred, interrupting as though she was the one asked, despite the fact that Naruto had so clearly directed the question to me. Ino, oblivious to my glares, and loving the attention everyone around the table had given her, smiled and continued, "She and Sasuke are tight. They go way back."

Naruto, with eyes now wider than before, turned to me, "I never knew you guys knew each other that well."

"We don't."

"But Ino said—"

"We knew each other, barely, back in middle school. That's it."

"But now they're real close." Ino interrupted once more.

"Not." I snapped back. "He disappeared. Never saw him again till now. The end."

"I never knew." Naruto exclaimed in disbelief. "I mean, Sasuke and I are pretty good friends you know, ever since they came here to HLA, but I never knew you and him were even closer—"

"We're not, Naruto." I corrected him. "Sasuke's no one."

"A very special no one." Ino grinned. I rolled my eyes wordlessly, saying no more as I was too lazy to argue the pointless argument. I've got more things to worry about, for instance, the note in my hand hidden underneath the table, which I'd been fiddling for nearly the whole lunch hour now.

"...Sakura?"

"Yes?"

"Do you even know what I said?" I nodded blankly. "What is up with you?"

"Nothing." Ever so slowly, as inconspicuous as I could make it, I shoved the note deep in the pocket of my sweatshirt, out of sight. I'd just have to deal with that later. "Sorry, I didn't hear you." I looked at them, at the pairs of questioning eyes, and smiled brightly. "So what were you fighting about?"

Ino explained, babbling on and on as she bickered against Chouji; and for the rest of lunch, things went by as it regularly did.

I'd fooled them, and I was off the hook in answering their curious questions.

For now, at least.

Uchiha Sasuke

He placed a comforting arm around the waist of the sobbing girl seated beside him.

"And he wouldn't stop, Sasuke... he wouldn't stop." She spat out, angry and frustrated and helpless and hurting all at the same time. He knew the feeling. He knew it all too well.

The other guys had left them alone, hanging a few feet away to give them, or her, some privacy that she needed at the moment. More often than not they'd made fun of her, being the only girl in the group; but this time, they didn't, because this time, the situations were different, and they knew what she was going through.

That was something they all had in common, something that tied them together. They all knew what hell was like; each one of them has experienced living in it firsthand. Silently, he tightened his hold on her. It was one of the few times he let her get close to him nowadays, because at the moment she needed someone to turn to. Because no matter how irritatingly persistent she was at times, bottom line is, he was there for her—as a colleague, at least. In fact, except maybe the one person he despised the most (namely, Gaara), and the other that he simply did not trust (namely, Sai), he'd be there for any of the guys, 'cause they were all pretty much a team. Them, against the world.

"Don't you just hate it?" she said bitterly, "How everything's going downhill and you just can't do anything about it but watch?"

"Yeah." Sasuke responded in a low voice. Then, sighing, she let her head fall on his shoulder. He didn't resist; no need for that. He let her snuggle up against him.

In spite of this, he couldn't shake off the thought that she didn't even fit in his arms, her body not anywhere near compatible to his. She was a little... wide, not that he was calling her fat, but she had always been a little too well-developed for a girl. It didn't feel right, her being this close to him, and it wasn't long before he found himself thinking of someone else, someone with a lighter shade of hair than the girl in his arms, someone who had bigger eyes and a brighter smile—and someone who was a little smaller than the girl currently next to him, who probably would've fit in his embrace if ever tested... not that he wanted to know. Never.

Damn it, he thought, shutting his eyes to block the unwanted, newly-formed ideas in his head. Him with her? The mere contemplation of it already had him shuddering from repugnance. So why had the idea come up? Damn it, he thought again.

In the same moment he heard noises, more than the occasional engine sounds of a car passing by. Voices chattering, growing louder as they got nearer. Initially, he thought it to be only random people walking by.

That was, until he heard, "Hey, isn't that Sasuke?" He knew that voice; it was that loudmouth's, Naruto, who he often saw and was with at HLA, whenever his group mixed with their PE class. "Hey Sas—OW!"

Immediately, upon coming to this realization, and curious about the blonde's voice's sudden appearance, Sasuke looked up and scanned the sidewalk. It didn't take all that long to spot the dimwit, who presently pouted as he held the side of his head, and who was standing a few meters away across the street.

...and who, at the present moment, had his arm around a certain someone, who just happened to be the subject of Sasukes prior thoughts—a certain brat he'd been silently, secretly, and unconsciously wishing to see.

A/n: Freakin' FFnet won't let me center the titles. Ugh.

This chapter was written by hand! When my computer broke, I didn't want to slip into another hiatus, so I grabbed a pen & paper & wrote. You should see the draft. Scribbles & arrows all over the place, all eight pages of them, back to back. My hand ached, but it was cool. I got to write whenever and wherever without needing a computer.

Nywayz! Belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Years. As always, the end of the Semester is nearing, and I'm getting a B in Physics. This is usually about the time I'd go "I'll be focusing on school for awhile, so no update" etc etc...BUT. I wrote like, basically SIX chapters, over 24 000 words, during the winter break. So yeah, that's NO HIATUS for you guys. ;) You're welcome.

Once again, Read, Review and Thank You! I appreciate the patience & the comments/feedbacks.

Sincerely,
Keelah