Chapter 11

Sakura slowly fluttered her eyes open. The sight of the room's ceiling was something she still hadn't gotten fully accustomed to yet, neither was the position she slept in. But she did get used to waking up at such early hours before sunrise. The back of her head laying on a pillow, the girl simply watched quietly, her gaze pointing up as she remained still. Even if she could move her lower half, she'd still do the same thing. It had become a common thing really, for her sleep to end so early but with no enthusiasm to get out of bed whatsoever. So, in her usual depressed state, she decided not to do anything and continue to lay there in the solitude and silence of her room.

The pinkette sometimes wondered how long had it been since. If someone told her that it was only a couple days, or a couple decades, she would've believed them. They said that only the living cared about time. Half-dead then, perhaps that's what she was. Stumbling her way through life, simply repeating a routine each day without purpose.

Among other things, regret was something she felt more often than not. So much to be sorry for, so little she could do to make them right. In particular, that fateful day. As if she was an observer, she watched that memory play out inside her head. Sakura recoiled at the words that the pink-haired child threw at her friend. Everything was made worse as Sakura knew full well that that child was her. An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips. She wished she could take it all back. She honestly did, she honestly wished she could take it all back.

But he was gone now and probably hated her too after she said all those terrible things to him. Perhaps the only person who had ever truly admired her, and she let him down.

In her desolation, her thoughts eventually shifted to the subject of herself. She liked to think she became a better person since then, gentler and humbler. Distancing herself from the petty and selfish girl she once was. However, it did very little to boost her self-image. A pathetic attempt to forget glory days left far behind, as they used to say. Nothing more than a sitting piece of meat full of remorse now. Being away from her life as a kunoichi proved how insignificant she was in the grand scheme of things. All her pettiness, her dreams and aspirations, even her desire for 'justice'.

Moving her arms, she touched the scar at the base of her spine. Though she'd never really seen it, the pink-haired girl could've sworn its shape had the same pattern of the lightning that had pierced her. A chilling sensation reverberated throughout her as the dread slowly crept up her back. Becoming more moderate meant that her emotions became less heated, as a result, her anger had evolved more into a fear of him. Sasuke's crimson Sharingan cruelly staring her down as she layed almost dead and completely paralyzed was a common theme of her nightmares. Her upper half started to tremble in fear. Sometimes, he would not be alone. Sakura didn't know who or what it was, but she could tell that there would be someone else there, lurking in the shadows of her subconscious. The rattling of chains usually following it.

The girl retrieved her hands and shook her head, as if to banish the thoughts of that sinister presence from her mind. She watched in surprise as sparks of sunlight started to inundate her bedroom through the window. Had that much time passed since she woke up?

Although she didn't really want to, a single molecule of dopamine inside her brain fought to push the girl into action. Taking a deep breath, Sakura began the relatively arduous task that was getting out of her pajamas by herself. The shirt came out easily. Her pants, not as much. Pushing the strength of her upper body to its limits, she stretched enough to pull the fabric past her knees. The girl then smartly let gravity do the rest of her work for her as she placed her legs just over the edge of her bed. Grabbing her usual outfit that she'd left within her reach, Sakura proceeded to get inside the red clan dress. With that done, she reached for her wheelchair next to the bed.

Grunting, the teenager made an effort to get on it, pulling the weight of her lower half along the way. Sakura adjusted herself on the seat and then properly placed her feet. She put on some shorts to prevent any possible unseemly disaster during the rest of the day. Though she was no kunoichi, the paraplegic girl had developed a taste for the ninja sandal. It's not like she liked them because they were comfy, but rather because it was easy to put them on and wouldn't be coming off by themselves, perfect for her situation.

She exhaled, somewhat glad that that was over with.

Maneuvering her wheelchair, the pinkette inspected herself on the mirror. Her eyes were greeted by the sight of her older image. Some two and a half years from when he left. The Haruno wasn't able to notice many changes. Her hair had been kept the same short length to not get in the way of her work. Her chest had developed a bit and some of her other curves had become more accentuated. Yet none of those changes were so drastic as to call attention to herself. Perhaps that was for the best.

Though one thing that was out of place in that young body was her face. She looked tired. Sometimes she could swear that she had wrinkles on the corner of her eyes. As if a hundred years of torment had robbed her of her youth. Now but the husk of a teenage girl. Insecurely massaging her palms, a bit calloused from all the work of having moved around on a wheelchair for that long, she averted her jade green gaze from the mirror. Decorating her face with yesterday's smile in order to blend into this new normal, the paralyzed teenager felt the hard rubber of the wheels with her petite hands and pushed them.

She hated that mirror. The only reflection it showed her was of a monster stranded on a wheelchair.