Instant Message
By Keelah

"Would you like me to show you how I killed Hozuki?"

Chapter THIRTY-FIVE
Twenty Questions

I stood, entirely immobilized, as he moved from underneath the darkness and stepped into the light in a slow, threatening pace.

Holding my breath, I readied myself as I was to finally set eyes on the face of my own predator, but as the rest of him was illumined, a visage resembling that of an animal emerged instead. Where his eyes should have been were two hollow holes of darkness, and painted on the white textile was a thin black line, upturned into a wide, idle smile—a mask.

"Get out." I ordered, my voice wavering unsteadily. "Get out!" To be honest, I was surprised I even had the guts to speak at the moment. He was a mere several yards away from me, standing on the other side of the back room, the closest we've ever been. In a blink of an eye, he could catch me in his grasp with ease, and I would have no chance in fighting him off, no way to defend myself. I gulped.

"Sasuke is proving to be quite a handful." He remarked all too cordially.

"He hasn't done anything."

"Did you like my surprise back at the Academy?" He went on as though I hadn't spoken. "I know how you love surprises."

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" I received nothing but the stagnant beam of the mask he wore. I growled, "Answer me!"

"Seeing you so frazzled is entertaining."

Entertainment. That was all the purpose I served.

A thought struck like a switched on a light-bulb. "How about a game?" I suggested, "You love games, don't you? Let's play then." Quickly, I browsed my thoughts for ideas. "Twenty Questions."

At the proposal, his head tilted to the side, the pair of hollow voids piercing through me. Frightened, I looked away—a deed that noticeably brought him gratification. With stimulated enthusiasm, he inquired, "Twenty from you or me?"

"Both." I answered, negotiating. "Ten questions for you, and ten for me."

"Alright." He agreed, delighted. "I'll go first. The Uchiha—he isn't coming back?"

"No, he's not." I answered the first query in haste and wasted no time asking mine, "How did you get in?"

"Didn't Sasuke already tell you to make sure all your windows are closed?"—I remembered; Sasuke had said so the first time he'd come to my rescue, when I'd left the front door open and the Rogue had threatened to enter. He must've eavesdropped on our conversation. I wasn't very surprised.

"Why are you here?" A nuance of desperation was audible in my voice. "Just... watch me from afar like you always do. Stay away." I whispered.

I felt his eyes dancing they clamped onto me, along with that frozen grin of his mask. The cold, blank look sent shivers down my spine. "But that would be so dull and repetitive. Visiting you gives some sort of variation." I flinched—I was a mere hobby, a sick fixation. "Let me ask you, Sakura, what have you been telling Sasuke?"

"I didn't tell him anything," I cried out. "He doesn't know!"

"Oh?" he replied doubtingly, "I'm not so sure about that. He's been looking into things lately. You should tell him to mind his own business. Or would you like me to inflict that message myself?"

Something in his words caught my attention. Inflict? "What are you going to do?"

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

"He has nothing to do with this! He's just upset...because he'd already lost Karin. And now, Suigetsu..." I choked on a sob, and repeated the name in remorse, "Suigetsu. Why him?"

"Was he not bothering you just the other day?"

"He was being friendly." I shouted, "He's never done anything wrong, he—" I bit back all my aggravation and recomposed myself, shutting my eyes to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. "The pictures, back in the school. You took them?"

"You're seriously asking that." He stated, deadpanned. "It's a little apparent by now, isn't it? I take great interest in the subject of my current fascination."

I huffed in disgust, "You're sick. Why are you doing this?"

"Does there need to be a reason?"

I stated with incredulity. "This is your idea of a hobby?""

"You prove to be quite entertaining in your pathetic state." I sent him my pitiful attempt of a glare. "You drown so much in guilt and yet do nothing about it—that's the great thing about you, Sakura. You give me total control. You wouldn't dare speak of this to anyone. You know why?" He asked tauntingly, "Because you're afraid, just the way I want you to be. And you'll stay that way, helpless and petrified."

The shrill ringing of the telephone reverberated across the house, silencing us both in effect. We stood for a moment in stillness as I struggled over what to do, battling with my inner self on whether or not to run. The machine tinkled not too far from where I presently was, only on the other room, and it would take me, say, three seconds to run down the hall, one to pick up the phone, and another to yell out "Help". Five seconds in total—that was all I needed.

The Rogue measly waited for my next move; it didn't seem as though he wasn't going to budge anytime soon.

I decided.

As swift as I could, I rotated and sprinted to the kitchen across down the hall. I slammed the French doors shut behind me and immediately grabbed the phone. Adrenaline gushed through my veins.

"Hello?"

I recognized who it was instantly.

"Sensei!"

"Sakura," The doors clicked behind me. I stiffened. "What's going on? Are you okay?" Kakashi asked, his tone coated with concern.

"I—"

"I'm fine."

An ominous voice whispered lowly in my ear. I closed my eyes as a shiver travelled through my body. He stood directly behind me, his chest in contact with my back, his presence overwhelmingly near and sinister.

"Sakura?"

"Say it." He hissed edgily.

"I'm fine." I repeated.

"Is everything alright?" Doubt was audible in Kakashi's voice. "You don't sound well."

"Everything's fine." The Rogue whispered.

And robotically, I repeated, "Everything's fine."

"Ask him why he's asking."

"Why would you ask me that, Sir Kakashi?"

A pondering silence emanated from the other end of the line. Then, the older man said, his answer abrupt and forthright, "Sasuke—he said you were acting strange. He wanted me to check up on you."

The Rogue chucked disdainfully, "Should've known."

"I've already been told of what happened back in the Academy. That must've been pretty traumatic for you, Sakura, seeing Suigetsu like that. Sasuke's pretty shaken up as well. Are you sure you're alright?"

No, I'm not.

But the words were caught in my throat before I had the chance to voice them out. With a sharp intake of breath, I felt a cold, metallic edge press against my shoulder.

"Hurry up." He demanded from behind, impatience gravitating in his hushed tone. "End the call, already."

"Everything's fine, Kakashi," I told hastily, "Thanks for checking. Bye."

"Hey—hold on a second." I mentally cursed as I waited in anxiety, fighting the old habit of fiddling with my hands given that one minor shift could easily push the blade into my skin.

I could feel him toying with the knife, twirling it playfully like a plaything between his fingers, never once lifting the sharp apex from my shoulder. With some added pressure, he might as well have been drilling into my flesh—perhaps that was what the maniac had in mind. With my attention focused on the cutting edge that threatened to pierce through my arm, I barely heard Kakashi's voice ask, "Are you safe?"

"Why yes, Sensei," The Rogue impersonated in false gaiety as he loomed closely beside my face. "I'm perfectly safe."

"Why yes Sensei, I'm perfectly safe."

"Give me a yes-or-no answer and nothing else. Are you under duress?"

"No."Kakashi's strategy would have worked if the Rogue hadn't been standing dangerously close to me, his body against my backside, but he heard every muffled word from the telephone. He pressed his lips to my ear, lowly demanding, "Tell him, no."

I choked out, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

There was another pause on Kakashi's end, before he finally, reluctantly replied, "Alright then, try and get some rest, Sakura. Good night." Before I could utter a reply, the phone was snatched away from my hands and slammed on the desk.

The Rogue snickered in my neck and, as if I was some kind of obedient dog, he praised, "Good girl."

At last, he stopped his hostile ministrations on my shoulder, and consequently, I drew out a sigh of relief. But alas he was not finished. He lifted the blade off my shoulder, only to press it once more on my upper arm. My heart pounded twice its regular rapidity as he dragged the edge down at a leisurely pace, his motion so light that it was almost tender, never quite cutting through the skin.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

"Would you like me to show you how I killed Hozuki?" He whispered as the metallic cold reached my wrist. My heart was pounding, and I tried to calm down, to decelerate its rapid pulse, but all attempts became futile when he twisted the blade around and he ran the edge back up my arm.

It was not, however, the blade that shook me to the bone; it was the chilling voice, its menacing undercurrent more piercing any cutting edge, whispering in my ear: "I sliced him to pieces, stabbed him again... and again..." The knife reached my shoulder, only to be hauled back down, making its second round. "And again."

"These people..." I croaked, "are dead because of you. How many... lives have you killed? Are you even aware, of how many people are dead because of you!" I felt the blade's motion stop abruptly, its tip pricking into the flesh just below my shoulder. Then knife was lifted off my arm.

A shuffling noise went on behind me, followed by a muted thud as something fell on the ground beside my feet. Looking down, I found the emotionless frontage of an animal staring back at me with eyes as black as voids—the Rogue had taken off his mask. All at once, he leaned in and brushed his lips on my shoulder, pecking the area he'd grazed with a knife not too long ago. I stiffened.

In silence, he murmured against my skin:

"How many people are dead because of you, Sakura?"

I shook, fighting the urge to break down in fear. The soft touch of his lips was anything but affectionate, and his light-feathered actions gave off a dark aura with an ominous intent—a warning.

Then, breaking the tense noiselessness, he whispered, "This game is over."

In a snap of a finger, the feel of him standing behind me disappeared completely, the mask on the floor vanished, and with the faint opening and closing of the back door, he was gone.

Yet I felt his lips still lingering on my shoulder, his breath on my neck. The ghost of his presence, the echo of his words, remained.

How many people are dead because of you, Sakura?

The entire second floor of the west wing was closed the following morning, and was kept inaccessible to any student and staff. I found the blockade unsurprising with the last night's events in mind, but the rest of the student body were absolutely mystified. Many went out of their way to satisfy their curiosities, oh-so-casually passing by the restricted section to catch a quick glimpse, even though their classes were most likely on the opposite end of the campus.

I, too, headed for the Socials building, though for an entirely different reason. The itch to revisit the maintenance closet had perturbed me overnight—has anybody seen it yet? Surely a room filled with pictures was not that easy to overlook, and the images were undoubtedly of me, thus I would certainly be the first one to hear about it—so why hadn't I?

Even as I was metres away from the Social Studies division, I spotted Kakashi and Morino instantaneously; Kakashi was on one knee, examining a reddish brown blemish with much focus, while the other man stood at the far end of the hall, in deep conversation with a woman who I recognized from the night before, Anko. The three of them quickly noticed my attendance.

It was Kakashi who moved from his prior spot to meet me by the entrance doors. He gave me the same scrutinizing look as he'd given the discolorations on the floor. "Yo." His greeting surprised me, as the casualness of it did not match the seriousness that held his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, good. Not enough sleep, but good. I'm good." I said good one too many times—Kakashi caught it as well, but chose not to further comment on it.

Instead, he asked, "So what brings you here? I don't really think this is the best place for you to be right now."

"Kakashi-sensei, I'm fine, really. I'm not... traumatized or anything." Right—as if being back here did not inflame last night's incident into my mind, as if the reminder of it didn't make me want to vomit. Who said I was traumatized? "I... left my wallet." I lied, "Here, last night."

"Where is it? I'll fetch it for you."

"No," I said a tad too swiftly. "I mean, I dropped it. I don't know where it is. I'm pretty sure it was here, though. Just a quick scan; I'll be done quickly, really."

I could tell he was a little unsure, but it wasn't long before the vacillation went away and he stepped aside to let me through. My blood began to turn cold as I made my way towards the same spot I'd headed to not that many hours ago, as if I were in some re-enactment of the previous night's episode.

The area did not contain any more puddles of blood, but not everything had been cleaned. Where Kakashi had been earlier, on a spot on the ground that he had been so focused about, now I saw were claret stains, as formless and scattered as the puddles that had left them. I looked away.

Up ahead was the maintenance storeroom. Swallowing the uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach, I reached out and grabbed the knob. Twisting the handle, I held my breath and swung the door open.

But the closet was empty.

I walked away from the out-of-use division, disappointed at the failure of my quest to the picture-pervaded closet—or rather, once pervaded, now unexplainably rid of any snapshot.

"Have you heard?"

Had I been down on earth instead of wandering astray in random meditations, I would have jumped right out of my skin at the unexpected exclamation. I barely realized Ino's sudden emergence until she waved a hand over my face.

"Heard what?" I answered perfunctorily, and listened in a half-hearted manner as my light-haired friend poured out the information her keen hearing have most likely picked up on the way here.

"They closed up the B Wing. Hinata? Their History class gets to go outside in the courtyard, out in the sun. Lucky. Anyway, that's not my scandal. Guess what? They found a dead body in the Case Studies Lab. It was one of those guys from the program. How insane is that?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, "I know." The look Ino gave me denoted the word "What" in bold large print with question marks and exclamation signs. "When I went back for my bag, I saw the body." A very impatient glare was sent my way.

"You saw it? Why didn't you tell me this? Then what?"

"Then... that's it." Cleary, dissatisfaction was all she acquired from my lack of details. "I fell unconscious. Sasuke called the cops."

"Sasuke?" She screeched, "He was with you?"

"We ran into each other. He was washing off the graffiti outside. He came along." Which reminded me: I still needed to thank him, and maybe apologize while I was at it. Kicking him out like that was, I admit, a little rude considering all he'd done. Most guys had the inborn instinct to be the hero, the superman, but not a lot would have stayed behind with me after I fell unconscious the way Sasuke had done the other evening. "Suigetsu, the one who died, he was a friend of Sasuke's."

"Why am I only finding out about this now?" Ino expressed with much exaggeration. Shaking her head, she spared me the overstated speech of being hurt at my keeping secrets from her. "Anyway, I'm just glad it wasn't Shikamaru. I would have died!"

I sighed, astounded by how easily Ino had shifted from a topic so grave to something boy-related. "Have you ever even talked to him?"

"What? No!" She said bashfully—the first I've ever seen her coy with the opposite sex. "He's never with his girlfriend anymore, or she's probably his ex now. I heard she ran off or something, but anyway, still! He'd never talk to me. I'm not his type."

"And what would his type be?"

"I don't know. Considering he's got brains...a nerd, probably?" I was just about to roll my eyes when a frown took over my expression instead. From afar, I espied something protruding from the edge of my locker. It was a loose leaf, I realized a second later, wedged between the slit of the door, as though the piece of paper had been deliberately inserted into the cubbyhole.

As an instinctive response, I seized the item and turned it face-up on the palm of my hand.

It was a photograph of me standing on the front porch, hand resting on the doorknob, my head turned towards the blurry figure that was alongside me. The picture wasn't very clear, but I recognized the silhouette enough (and the porcupine-resembling hairstyle) to say that it was Sasuke, the two of us talking at the stroke of midnight as he saw me home.

The scene quickly bestowed a sense of familiarity in my head. This was taken just last night.

I let go instantaneously, as if suddenly electrocuted.

"Hurry up," Ino cried out, "or I'll be late to Chem."

The photograph faltered in the wind before ultimately falling to the ground.

"You go ahead," I told her distractedly, "I'll catch up."

Ino raised an eyebrow, but conceded nonetheless. "Guess I'll see you in class." I waited until she was out of my line of vision before picking up the photo on the floor and shoving it in my bag—but that wasn't the end of the eerily watchful images. That very last picture, I'd discover soon enough, was only the latest addition.

With trembling fingers, I turned the combination lock, only to find a large pile of paper slips pouring out in abundance as the door swung open. Small, quadrilateral pictures, dozens and dozens of them, scattered over the floor in arbitrary disarray.

A stifled gasp escaped my lips. Well, at least now I knew where all the prints had gone—from the closet, to my locker. I supposed I should have been baffled by the fact that the Rogue had been able to open my lock, but frankly it came to me as no surprise. Somewhere in this mountain of photographs, there was bound to be one as I turned in the right combination; either he'd watched me, or taken the easier, faster method of unearthing the student records.

Bending down, I briskly gathered the prints together, picking them up off the floor where they currently splayed in exhibition for everyone's eyes to see. Soon I collected each one, and as a result I ended up with a thick, untidy stack of photos. In a slapdash fashion, I grabbed a textbook, closed up the locker and walked down the hall. I sighted a nearby garbage can and headed for its direction.

As I sauntered by, I threw the stack in eagerness to get rid of it, letting the snapshots fall into the bin.

Sabaku no Gaara

Damn it, He gripped the garbage-packed bag and hauled it over his head into the large dumpster. His body focused on the task in hand, but his mind was elsewhere, centralized rather on the predicaments before him. Nothing I do's enough.

He felt a rush of frustration surging through his veins, a sense of helplessness burning away his hope. Soon enough, only embers of his sanity would be left behind—he didn't want to know just how soon that time would come.

"Gaara?"

The familiar quality of the voice struck him. For a moment he thought it was a mere delusion, perhaps guilt frolicking at his conscience; but as he whirled around and his dark orbs of green met her lighter ones, he knew the sight before him was real.

"Sakura." He greeted, gradually and unconsciously coming out of his momentum of self-pity. A pleasant surprise had glazed over her expression, and he could say the same for himself—that was, of course, until he was reminded of the grimy rubber still gloving his hands.

Promptly, he slipped it off. She had to stop by the very moment he was taking out the trash. Christ, what great timing. The last time she'd dropped in, he'd been giving Kakashi a hand with the groceries. Being caught during the most inconvenient times seemed to be a curse that tirelessly attacked his dignity.

"Hey," Sakura greeted, fatigue weighing down her tone, as she walked towards him. She looked tired, world-weary, and for a moment he couldn't help but feel culpable. "I haven't really seen you around lately." He couldn't agree more. He hadn't seen the girl in quite a long while—of course, the other times didn't quite count, not when only one party had done all the seeing.

"Morino's been keeping us indoors, mostly. I was going to talk to you, at the hospital, but it didn't seem like the right time."

"Yeah," She responded sadly, "I know; me too."

The last time they'd in point of fact seen each other was of that night at the hospital, but with everything that went on around Karin's sudden death, there'd been no chance to talk. It hadn't exactly been the most ideal time to mingle. Their last conversation was on the day before that, a little over a week ago, when she'd appeared out of nowhere at their front yard much like how she had just now.

"So what are you doing here?"

"I actually came by to see Sasuke." He found himself frowning as an automatic response at the mention of the overconfident asshole. "Is he home?"

"Yes," he replied abruptly. What the hell does she keep coming by for Sasuke for? "He's busy with something on the computer, been on it for hours." Gaara explained, shaking his head. He'd never envisioned the Uchiha to be such a computer geek.

Turning his attention back to the pink-headed girl in front of him, he uttered, "I should go; I've got work at this marionette store, with my brother." He shook his head—again; Kankuro was an awfully obsessed puppeteer. "It was good seeing you again..."

"Yeah," she sighed, "You too."

After a curt nod, he walked away, only to find himself halting in mid-stride against his own will. "Sakura?" Their eyes met once more, and the following words came tumbling out of his mouth before any thought was put into it. "You want to go out sometime?" What the hell are you on, Gaara? "Grab dinner or something?" What are you doing?

A smile broke out of her once weary, sleepless face, and inside him, a warm sensation kindled at the thought that, for a change, he'd been the cause of that. But the light-hearted feeling soon faded to cinders as he realized how wrong this was. The smile was meant for him—but for heaven's sake, he was the last person to deserve it.

She answered, softly and gladly, "I'd like that,"

"Sakura." Their heads turned towards the new voice that thundered and interrupted their private moment, and both saw none other than Uchiha Sasuke standing not too far from them by the front door. His expression was that of indifference, his jaw set and eyes hard and impassive.

Clearly, Gaara was not anymore welcomed here, and frankly he hadn't the sufficient energy and forbearance to deal with the Uchiha right now. Paying no attention to the glares— or to the boy that sent them—he spun around and walked up to Sakura.

Softly, he told her, "I'll call you, okay?" She nodded. In her eyes flashed a hundred different emotions and a thousand more thoughts. To him, her emerald orbs, breathtakingly expressive, seemed to literally be a window to her mind.

It drew him to her even more.

This is wrong, a voice insisted in the back of his mind. So wrong.

An inner battle took place as indecision descended upon him, but one eye contact between them was all it took to make up his mind. A single thought, an idea, crossed his head, wiping out all trace of principle he had left:

Screw the screaming protests of his rationale; screw the chains that tied him into this fucked-up mess. Completely and carelessly, he disregarded his common sense. He'll suffer the consequences of such a foolish deed later. At the moment, however, it didn't matter. None of it did.

Before any control or logic knocked some rationality into his senses... he did something he'd always wanted to do.

Damn it all.

Leaning down, he closed the distance between them...

And his lips converged with hers.

Memo: Fun Fact! There are really 20 questions asked, starting from the Rogue's "I'll go first" till his departure. You have no idea how long it took me to add that up & make sure it was 20. I actually had a piece of paper in front of me, "R" on one side &"S" on the other, literally tallying each question. Ahhaha x)

Read, Review and Thank You!
Feel free to freak out, whether it's about that very first scene with the Rogue, or the very last with Gaara! Lol

Summer's here! Off to stand in front of the refrigerator again,
Keelah