Thank you to everyone who left their thoughts last chapter. I really appreciate the positive, wonderful reception! There are, however, a lot of silent readers at the time of posting this update; seventy at the minimum, to be precise, which is quite a disheartening amount. Feedback is very important to me – I want to know what people think of my writing. So for those who are lurking quietly about, please kindly consider leaving a word or two of constructive feedback every now and then. It'd make me super-duper happy. And to those awesome folks who did take the time to communicate, I send out my heartfelt thanks in the form of a (relatively) fast update. Hope you enjoy this chapter! : )
Note that the red flower Sakura dreams of is symbolic for love – some quick research revealed that apparently it conveys the message 'My heart aches for you', which I thought was perfect.
Chapter II
~*~
She was the apple of Demeter's eye,
One most cherished and adored,
A child of springtime,
And to shame she put,
The dancing wood-nymphs and dryads,
Her beauty incomparable,
Save only to the Sun,
A maiden of light,
Precious, beloved,
A daughter of life,
From the heavens above.
She had been dreaming of a vast, flourishing verdant meadow scattered with carnations of every hue beneath the sun. In her hand had been a single stem from the red variety – which she'd supposed had to mean something given the context – when the pleasant sequence had been rudely interrupted by an incessant, echoing ring. It had been easy to ignore at first, until it swiftly exploded into a riotous din. The shrill, intrusive sound was adamant that it would tear her from the warm, blissful embrace of slumber. Sakura groaned and lifted her left arm – why did it feel so damned heavy? - and lashed blindly out at the source of the noise. A loud clatter informed her that she had successfully knocked the flower-shaped alarm-clock from its pedestal atop her bed-side table. Good, she thought, feeling strangely satisfied with her first accomplishment of the day. It would survive, for it was a sturdy contraption that had seen many worse a fall. She was just about to roll over and somehow try to recommence her dream, when her mobile phone, inspired by the clock, began to ring in turn.
"Mmnooo!" she whined, burying her face more deeply into the warm, soft pillow in protest. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to face a new day. And she certainly didn't want to go to the festival and- just what had she been thinking when she'd selected that theme as her incoming call tone? It was the stupidest, most aggravating tune she had ever heard.
She cracked an eye open to glare at the silver-coloured cell, channelling murderous thoughts at it. Fumbling for the handset, she aligned the screen with her sleepy, squinting eyes and scowled at the caller ID.
Ino-Pig.
"What?" she grumbled in greeting.
"What?" Ino's voice shrieked at the other end of the line, so loud that a wincing Sakura had to physically remove the phone from her ear for a moment. "What do you mean what? I'm out the door. I'm stopping to get us a skinny coffee along the way so don't bother stuffing your face at home, okay? You'd better be up!"
Before Sakura could manage a word the line abruptly disconnected. She blinked groggily; Ino could be so charming sometimes. 07:30AM, her cell phone screen displayed. She had overslept by fifteen minutes already. Had she truly been so exhausted that she'd failed to hear the alarm-clock's first ring? She already knew the answer to that question; after all, the clock was built to become progressively louder after every five-minute snooze interval. With a heavy sigh, Sakura hauled herself out of bed. How was she so tired when it was only Tuesday? She usually had no problems getting up early. In fact, she loved nothing more than waking at the break of dawn, when the world was still under the hushed veil that accompanied nightfall.
Rubbing tiredly at her eyes and stifling a yawn, Sakura headed straight to the bathroom, where she scrubbed the remnants of sleep from her face before progressing to cleaning her teeth. When she was done, she padded back into her bedroom and over to her cream and lavender painted wardrobe, flung open the heart-knobbed doors and stared blankly at her clothes. She knew everybody was heading straight to the festival after final classes of the day were over. What had she worn to the event the previous year? Nothing spectacular or she would have remembered. So there was no reason to dress up, she reasoned. It wasn't like she even had anyone to impress anyway, and she really wanted to head to the hospital afterward, even if only for an hour, to check on Mr. Arakawa. The thought of him further dampened her spirits. She didn't care how she looked. Reaching out, she snagged the first two items her eyes had rested upon and threw them hurriedly on.
She then walked to the ornate dressing mirror, where she hastily unbound her hair and smoothed the coral locks down with a brush before securing them back again with a green elastic band. Grabbing a grey cardigan and her shoulder bag, she made her way downstairs to the open-plan kitchen for a glass of water. As she passed the refrigerator, she paused at the note scrawled in neat, elegant handwriting on yellow sticky paper, stuck on top of all the other reminders.
Have fun at the festival. Don't stay out too late.
Sakura smiled at her mother's message and felt the same twinge in her heart whenever she dwelled on how much she missed her company. She had always wondered how her mother came home so quietly during the night, and how she never seemed to hear her when she did so. But evidence of a visit would always pop up around the house in the form of a fresh vase of beautiful, cheerful flowers which always seemed to last far longer than average bouquets, dinner in the refrigerator or little notes left about the place. Sakura's thoughts turned to the brief text her mother had sent her the previous day; that she'd be returning from work early someday during the week. She just hadn't specified exactly when.
Swallowing down her glass, Sakura opened the fridge and beamed at what she saw. A fresh plate of syrup-coated dumplings sat prettily before her. She felt her mouth water hungrily and clasped her hands together in delight. Her absolute favourite! How could Ino expect her to resist? She quickly grabbed the small sticky pad and pen lying on the counter beside the fridge and scrawled her happy sentiments upon the paper.
Thank you for the dumplings! I love you mother. Always.
She decorated the note with hearts and a little drawing of two stick people, whom she hoped her mother would recognise as being representative of the two of them, before sticking it on top of the message that had been left for her. Then she took a dumpling from the top of the pile and popped it into her mouth, sighing blissfully. She was just reaching for a second when her eyes stopped on another item that had not been in the fridge before she had gone to bed the previous night. Chewing on her treat, Sakura curiously reached out and raised the top of the square shaped white box to peer inside. Her eyes widened at the sight of rich, ripe pomegranate seeds gleaming like garnet jewels within. Her mother had even gone out of her way to buy her a supply of her favourite fruit – sweet and fresh and ready peeled for her to enjoy!
Sorry Ino, Sakura silently apologised to her best friend, lifting the carton out onto the counter. She'd save the unhealthy dumplings for later. Grabbing a small bowl, she transferred four big tablespoons of seeds and tucked in contentedly. As she sat on one of the elegantly shaped stools by the rectangular table in the middle of the pine-furnished kitchen, her gaze moved thoughtfully to the stained-glass window behind the sink. Golden, early morning sunlight streamed through, throwing an array of pretty colours wherever the beams impacted. Sakura scraped the last of the fruit from the bowl and rose to the sink. She had just placed the washed crockery onto the silver drying rack when the chiming of the front doorbell alerted her to Ino's arrival.
Giving her mouth a quick rinse, Sakura yanked her cardigan on and hurried over to open the door. Ino stood in the sunshine, holding two cardboard cups of steaming coffee, looking as fabulously pampered as ever in a soft, just-above-knee-length purple and white flower-printed dress and cute, matching ballerina flats. A purple elastic band with a large flower attached to it kept her waist-length, pale blonde hair anchored smoothly back from her face. Her outfit was perfectly accessorised with an elegant little handbag and designer jewellery. Sakura grimaced as her best friend's eyes trailed critically over her. She knew exactly what Ino was about to say.
"Sooo, Sakura. Going for the scruffy student look on Festival Day? Nice."
Sakura's eyes moved to her clothing. She didn't look scruffy – did she? "I look normal-" she began to defend, before she was impolitely interrupted by a disapproving tut from Ino.
"Precisely; you look normal. And today is not a normal day. You've made absolutely no effort to-" she broke off abruptly, pursing her lips in a way that Sakura recognised meant business. "You know what? To hell with first class – there is no way I am allowing you to set foot into college dressed like that. Not today. In!"
Sakura's lips parted in dismay as Ino pushed one of the cups into her hands and breezed past her into the house. "But Ino, we'll be missing Kurenai's presentation on optical illusions, and I've been looking forward to that since-"
"I'm sure she'll repeat the class for you. Just get Hinata to ask her; she's like her favourite student," Ino dismissed.
"But I feel comfortable in this. I don't want to dress up-"
Ino whirled on her, flowing blonde mane nearly whipping Sakura in the face as she did so. "You know what, Sakura?" she demanded. "You know what your problem is? Mother Nature has given you so much, and you make zero effort to work it. Do you know how frustrating that is?"
Sakura stared at her, shocked. Ino looked genuinely upset – as if Sakura's disinclination to dedicate copious amounts of time on her appearance was a crime of sorts. But Ino was rallying on before Sakura could speak a word.
"Do you think maybe once in your life you could doll up just a little? It's Festival Day. There'll be lots of hot guys. And you're going to score with one of them!" With that, Ino kicked her shoes off and headed up the wooden stairs to Sakura's bedroom.
Sakura sighed and trailed after her, sipping on her coffee. She knew she would require a great deal of caffeine to survive the day, and couldn't wait until it was over. Joining Ino who had taken the liberty of rummaging through the contents of her wardrobe, Sakura protested, "But I don't want to score with any guys. You know my mother would probably scare them all off anyway."
"Sakura, you're eighteen," Ino replied, as if that fact somehow solved everything. "Remind me to come over and reinvent your pathetic wardrobe," she added, throwing out different items onto the chair by the vanity table. "Now where is it?"
"Where's what?" asked Sakura, nonplussed. The pile of clothes on the chair was growing steadily bigger. Surely Ino didn't mean for her to try them all on?
"The cute skirt and cardy we bought together in the last sale, remember?"
"Huh?" Sakura stared blankly. She couldn't recall the items.
"You know, the- oh! Here's one!" she pulled a piece of clothing triumphantly out and Sakura was hit with instant recognition. The dipped hem, layered white skirt was made of light-weight polyester. It was perfectly floaty in appearance – and perfectly spring. She'd fallen in love with it at the last sale, but had never gotten around to wearing it.
Holding onto the skirt, Ino rummaged some more before lifting another hanger from the rack. With a flourish she produced a pale pink, pearl buttoned cardigan and held it over the skirt. "This is your outfit," she declared. "You're going to look totally hot. But really Sakura; price tags still on? Shame on you!"
"I don't know, Ino," Sakura said, eyeing the items with uncertainty. When she had been much younger, she'd loved dressing up with Ino. Her mother had lavished clothes of every colour upon her, but then Sakura had discovered books, and a love of reading had overtaken her love of fashion, much to Ino's dismay. She still enjoyed window shopping, but avoided buying things she didn't deem necessary – again to her best friend's sorrow. Ino was extravagant, buying anything and everything she wanted. Sakura, in contrast, preferred to be sensible – even when she knew her mother would never hesitate to buy her anything she wanted.
"You've got amazing legs and you never show them off. The skirt is perfect for that. And you've got a pearl necklace that was made for this outfit. And the peep-toe, pink flats and that pearl hairband Hinata got you for your last birthday. Hurry up and change so I can accessorise you!" She shoved the clothes into Sakura's arms and relieved her of her coffee. "Tell me when you're done!"
Sakura released another heavy sigh as Ino exited the room. She reluctantly peeled off the clothes she had selected and dutifully put on the ones Ino had chosen. "Finished!" she called, just wanting to get the whole Ino-the-personal-stylist thing over with.
Ino burst back in and clapped her hands excitedly. "Sit down," she ushered her friend toward the vanity chair and Sakura made a protesting sound when her hair was swiftly freed from its elastic band. Ino stroked a brush down her coral locks, remarking that her friend really didn't wear her hair loose often enough - while Sakura watched her work in the mirror. When Ino was done, side-strands of Sakura's hair had been plaited and secured at the back with a golden clasp to form a princess braid, with the remainder flowing freely down her back. Taking a step back to admire her handiwork, Ino smiled proudly. Sakura didn't see just how pretty she was; as pure and clean as a fresh spring morning. Ino casually suggested make-up, to which Sakura resolutely shook her head.
"Just a little blush! And maybe some lip-gloss? You'll look like a doll!"
"No," Sakura glared at Ino's own flawlessly made-up face. She wore the natural-look so well; but Sakura hated caking her complexion with cosmetic products. "You know I hate all that stuff."
Ino rolled her eyes in defeat, knowing full well that her friend wouldn't budge on the matter. It wasn't like she really needed the coverage, anyway. "Fine, fine; just put this necklace and watch on and grab those shoes and you're done. Oh, and you have a white clutch don't you?"
"What, the really old one?"
"It's vintage. We'll make the last half-hour of class if I speed. And Sakura?" Ino added as Sakura took out the small, gold-chained handbag that Ino had specified.
"Yeah?"
"You look totally hot. Let's date."
Sakura met her best friend's gaze, and burst out laughing.
Twenty minutes after departing the house, they stepped out of Ino's bright metallic purple convertible and into college, swiftly making their way over to one of the many lecture theatres, where Kurenai Yuhi, a Physics teacher, was giving a presentation about optics and optical illusions. The girls slipped into the hall, taking the first seats they found to be available, and no sooner had they sat down, Sakura heard an appreciative whistle. Kurenai paused, and Sakura tensed, casting an accusing glance at Ino, who shrugged, and blinked her baby-blue eyes innocently as if to say, 'don't blame me'.
"Now," Kurenai slowly resumed, "optical illusions occur as a result of the visual deception we discussed earlier…"
Sakura slowly turned her head in the direction the sound had come from to find an unfamiliar guy grinning their way. At Ino, she knew, but when she looked over to her friend sitting three seats away from her she found that Ino was busy texting on her mobile, oblivious to the attention. Sakura glanced back to the guy, who, still smiling, offered a wink. At her. Sakura quickly averted her gaze. This was precisely one of the reasons why she hated making an effort to dress up. She didn't want to be noticed by sleazebags like the one who was currently ogling at her.
"Your eyes are tricked into visually perceiving something that is different to what actually, objectively, exists."
Sakura tried to concentrate on what Kurenai was saying. She had always found optical illusions fascinating, and had been looking forward to the lecture for months. But it was impossible to focus when she could feel the guy staring at her and whispering to his friend beside him. God. She was going to kill Ino.
"Let's look at some examples. What do you see in this image? Examine it for a few moments before answering. Think about what your first impressions are."
Sakura's attention was finally fully captured by the image that was at that moment displayed upon the large projection screen. A flower, her mind instantly supplied. It was a flower of some kind.
"It's some kind of candle-stick," she heard the brown-haired girl beside her murmur.
"Any ideas?" Kurenai called after another minute. Hands shot up, eager to share their thoughts. Most people, like the girl seated next to Sakura, believed it was a candle-stick. A few others suggested other interpretations, all to which Kurenai smiled mysteriously and shook her head. Sakura wished she could raise her hand and answer, but knew there was no way she would be seen at the very back. And she certainly didn't want to draw hundreds of pairs of eyes onto her.
"Not quite. Let's leave that tricky one for later. If anybody thinks they can figure it out, come and tell me when the presentation is over. Now, what about the next one?"
Just over fifteen minutes later, the lecture was over. Ino rejoined her, commenting on how boring it had all been, and how she couldn't wait for the day to be over. Sakura barely heard her. She hurried down the stairs to the bottom of the theatre, joining the queue of people who had surrounded Kurenai's desk. Kurenai was a pretty, thirty-something year old woman with dark, wavy hair and vivid brown eyes that almost seemed to possess a red-tinge in certain lights. She was well liked by students and always insisted that they addressed her by her first name. Sakura waited impatiently for her turn to come around. When it finally did, Kurenai greeted her with a soft smile.
"Hello, Sakura."
"Hi Ms. Yuhi- I mean, Kurenai," Sakura greeted politely.
"Did you enjoy the presentation?"
"Oh, yes, very much!"
"Are you here to tell me what the first image was?"
Sakura blinked, surprised. How had she known? "Oh- has anybody else guessed correctly?"
Amusement played on the teacher's face. "Not yet, but I have a funny feeling that's about to change…"
"Was it a flower?"
"Possibly. Which kind?"
"A narcissus?"
Kurenai's smile widened. "You have a good eye for decoding optical illusions, Sakura."
Sakura grinned, pleased with herself. "Will the slides be available on the network? I'd really like to look through them again later."
"Of course," Kurenai nodded. "Check in an hour or two; I should have them up by then."
Thanking her, Sakura made her way back up to where Ino was chatting with Tenten and Hinata at the top of the stairs.
"Wow Sakura," Tenten greeted smilingly. "You look so pretty."
"Doesn't she?" Ino gushed. "You should've seen what she was wearing before I made her change!"
Sakura linked arms with a startled Hinata, muttering, "Let's go," beneath her breath, as Ino filled Tenten in on all the details of Sakura's 'miracle transformation'. They exited the lecture theatre and had only managed to take a few steps when loud, boisterous laughter filled the air. The instant rigidity in Hinata's posture caused a concerned Sakura to glance at her friend. Hinata's cheeks were stained with a pretty blush, and her breathing had quickened.
She really has got it bad, Sakura thought, biting her lower lip sympathetically. She wished there was something she could do to help.
She paused at the thought, throwing a glance back over her shoulder at where Naruto was goofing around with Choji Akimichi and Kiba Inuzuka. He never even looked Hinata's way; what was the matter with him? Could he not see how gorgeous, sensitive and kind-natured Hinata was?
She and Ino had adopted the subtle approach to little effect. Perhaps it was time for a drastic change in strategy. Feeling uncharacteristically bold, a determined Sakura gently unlinked her arm from Hinata's, and pulled Tenten forward to take her place by the flushed girl's side.
"I'll be right back," she answered to her friends' questioning looks, and slipped away, joining the group of rowdy boys. Two of them were polite enough to acknowledge her presence.
"Hey, hey!" dark-haired, wild looking Kiba grinned. "It's Sakura! Hello, Sakura!"
"Hi Sakura," Chouji, a brown-haired, heavily built youth greeted whilst munching contentedly on his snack. Sakura stared blankly at the large crisp bag. It was far too early in the morning to be eating all that, surely?
Naruto, who had turned red in the face from laughter, spluttered at the sight of her, his cerulean eyes widening comically as if in disbelief. "W-wow, Sakura-chan. You look really-"
Sakura grabbed him by his arm before he could complete the compliment. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure. See you there, losers!" he called to his friends.
"Later, idiot!" they laughed back, whistling in a manner that made Sakura wish she possessed the strength to lift something of significant weight to throw at them.
"What's up, Sakura-chan?" Naruto asked, as Sakura guided him away from the stream of students changing classes and toward a quiet part of the corridor.
"You're going to the Festival today, right? Have you asked anybody to go with you?"
Naruto blinked at her. Then a smile, devious began to play on his lips. "Are you asking me to be your date, Sakura-chan?"
Sakura resisted the urge to smack him across the back of his sunshine head. "No you idiot!"
"Aw," Naruto pouted theatrically. "You wound me, Sakura-chan."
"Naruto," she sighed. "You've noticed, right? You must have noticed. Not even you can be that oblivious-" she broke off, noting the blank look her friend was directing at her, and sighed heavily again. Alright, so maybe Naruto really was that clueless. She considered the best way to reveal the news to Naruto, juggled a few options in her mind, before settling on blurting out frankly, "Hinata likes you."
"Huh?" Naruto blinked again in confusion. Then he echoed, as if he had no idea who she was talking about, "Hinata?"
"Yes," Sakura said, tapping one of her cute peep-toe flats patiently against the ground. "She really likes you Naruto. Why don't you try talking to her?"
Naruto's eyes widened at her for a moment, before slipping quickly away. He looked– what was that look on his face? Abashed? Guilty? Sakura wasn't at all certain.
"Naruto?" she questioned.
"I can't," he mumbled, so unusually quiet that Sakura strained to hear correctly.
"What?"
"I can't talk to her, Sakura-chan," he repeated, still refusing to meet her gaze.
"What? Why not?" Sakura asked, dumbfounded. She hadn't known what to expect when she'd impulsively decided to confront Naruto about Hinata, but it certainly wasn't this dejected, resigned response that she was getting. What in the world was stopping him?
"It's-" Naruto hesitated. "It's kind of complicated, Sakura-chan."
"Oh," Sakura's expression walled off completely. "You're seeing someone else."
"N-no!" Naruto's eyes flew back to her and he held his hands up defensively. "N-nothing like that!"
Sakura frowned, frustrated, and folded her arms. "Well, then what is it?"
Again, Naruto seemed to falter. He rubbed at the back of his neck, the way he always did whenever he was nervous, or shy, or embarrassed – probably all three at that moment, Sakura silently observed – and finally disclosed, "It's- it's just- Hinata doesn't really know me, and, well..." his voice trailed off.
Sakura shook her head, her expression softening. That was his only objection? Was he somehow fearful that Hinata would change her mind once she got to know him better? She hadn't realised that Naruto had such a sensitive side.
"Naruto, you're such a goofball," she told him. He winced, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, which prompted Sakura to quickly add, "But you're a nice goofball. And Hinata sees that. Just talk to her. What have you got to lose?" She checked the watch on her wrist, and gasped. She was nearly fifteen minutes late to her Maths class! Had she really been standing with Naruto for that long?
"Look, just think about it," she said hurriedly. "I've got to get to class. See you later?"
"Sure," Naruto replied. In her rush, Sakura failed to acknowledge the uncharacteristically quiet tone to her friend's voice. She also didn't notice how, long after she'd rounded the corner of the corridor, a subdued Naruto remained in place, his eyes glued dejectedly to the floor.
He watched silently from atop his majestic black stallion as the long, elegantly shaped wooden ferry slowly approached the shoreline. As it drew nearer, it broke through the enveloping mist to reveal a cloak-shrouded, shadowy form holding a slender oar. Huddled forlornly on board behind the figure were seven spirit bodies. Two were women, weeping quietly together, one a middle-aged man clasping a wide-eyed, frightened little boy in his arms, one elderly couple, and another even younger child. They came in regular droves, humans from all walks of life. Death did not discriminate. It was the one certainty, the one constant, the event everyone experienced – some much sooner than others.
The boat drew to a smooth, noiseless stop by the gravelly bank. A tall, orange-haired, burly built man guided the souls carefully off board, whilst a ruby-haired young woman supervised, arranging the new arrivals to join two separate lines. Both attendants were cloaked in midnight black robes, the colour of his own. In one swift, graceful motion, he dismounted, giving his steed a single, reassuring pat as it snorted in protest.
"Stay, Aethon," he commanded. The horse dutifully stilled. He ignored the bewildered stares of the deceased as he made his way over to where the cloaked figure on the boat stood at attention.
"How many are unable to pass?" he questioned curtly.
The ferryman bowed his head respectfully. The hood concealed a gaunt, ravished face and hair the colour of scarlet red. "Five hundred and seventy three are at this moment bound to wander the shores, Great God. They have no payment to offer for their passage."
"How many children?"
"Sixty two, to be precise," the ferryman answered.
"Ferry them here. Your coins will be ready."
"But what of their parents, Great God?"
His eyes narrowed. "They will remain," he replied, and turned dismissively away, signalling that the brief conversation was over.
"Yes, Great God," the ferryman bowed lower, and turned to begin the long journey back through the rivers that formed the boundaries between the living world and the dead.
He remounted his steed, ignoring the pleading cries of the souls who were queuing to board two other, larger wooden boats on the other side of the island-shaped coastline; one black and lined with skulls, the other pure white with feather carvings. The queue leading to the black boat was significantly longer than the white one. More attendants stood about, strongly built, black-leather clad bearded men armed with whips and clubs, who were ready to prevent anybody from leaving their assigned queues.
"Please Mighty Death God! Please have mercy upon us!"
"I want to join that other line! Get out of my way!"
"Get back, scum!" an attendant snarled, and a harsh lashing sound echoed through the air, followed by an agonised shriek.
"My son! My son is getting on the white boat. Please let me go with him! Please!"
"Mother! Mother, don't leave me! Mother!"
He had heard enough. "To the palace," he quietly instructed Aethon, who snorted and began to canter obediently forward. The anguished screams and howls of the dead were soon lost behind him and the thunderous pounding of hooves became all that he could hear as his steed tore through the red-blossom lined path leading up to his abode. Upon reaching it, he dismounted again, leaving his horse in the company of three other imposing black steeds – and stalked broodingly up the black-marbled steps into his resplendent dwelling place.
He needed to think. If he wanted to execute his plan correctly, flawlessly, then timing was of paramount importance. He knew that Sakura would be at the Festival. She attended every year. And he knew that she went in the company of a large group of other humans. He had to be careful. She was of a caring, giving nature, which meant that many other people cared about her in turn. They were bound to notice her disappearance.
She would notice her disappearance.
His expression darkened at the thought of Sakura's 'mother'. He knew how precious Sakura was to the woman. And for that reason he could not risk being detected or seen when he snatched Sakura away. He could not risk being foiled – because then, he knew, he would lose any chance of luring her into the Underworld forever. Sakura's mother would lock her away, beyond his reach and influence. He would lose.
And he despised losing.
He would have to find a way to separate Sakura from her friends, somehow. Yes. That was what he would do. Isolate her for just long enough to seize her, quickly and quietly, without witnesses. Without anybody – especially not him - seeing. And when they did finally realise that Sakura was missing… by then it would be far too late.
A small, smug smirk touched his arrogant lips. By nightfall, she would be his.
The lunch hour, usually so mundane and uneventful, was buzzing with excitement. Everywhere she went Sakura heard students talking eagerly about the Festival. It was set to be the biggest and best ever. Sakura wondered how that was even remotely possible; the previous year's event had been pretty spectacular. How in the world were the organisers planning to outdo themselves this time around?
Sakura's feet were transporting her automatically toward the lunch hall, but she hesitated as she approached it. Did she really want to spend such a beautiful, sunny afternoon cooped up indoors? Besides, she knew that Lee was likely prowling the entire expanse of the canteen looking for her – to pledge his ardent, undying love, no doubt – no, she decided, she definitely didn't feel like eating inside. She would purchase a sandwich from one of the stalls by the quad and eat in peace and quiet beneath the cool shade offered by one of the freshly blooming trees.
After purchasing her food, Sakura made her way over to the quietest, unoccupied tree. Settling comfortably beneath it, she opened her satchel bag and pulled out the latest novel she was reading; a bittersweet love story between a mermaid and a human, based loosely on an ancient fairy-tale. Sakura loved myths, folk and fairy-tales. They had always fascinated her as a child and continued to do so. Her mother had told her such wonderful stories over the years, speaking animatedly as though the worlds from which the tales were wrought were very much real, and Sakura had lost herself in the magic of them. They would always leave her feeling wistful for something she couldn't quite describe.
'Chapter 9', she began to read, biting contentedly into her sandwich. 'Young Lumina swam silently, careful to avoid detection from the grand white palace's sentry. She knew that if she were to be discovered she would be greeted with great vexation from her father the King once she returned home.
Home. Why did she feel as though she no longer belonged beneath the calm of the gentle, azure waves? Why did she feel as though her heart was tied with an invisible thread to the golden shore upon which she now gazed? She knew the answer, of course. Her Prince. Not a day passed without her thoughts turning to him. Longing tore at her very soul, the need to see him, to be close to him, to touch him. The thought of touching caused her pulse to quicken. He had yet to see her true form. How would he react, she silently wondered, if he knew that his saviour had been inhuman? Would he accept her? Or would he be afraid and view her as little more than an abomination of nature? She chewed anxiously upon her lower lip. But she was of God's creation also. Surely he would not turn her away?
Perhaps he would be curious. As she swam closer to the jagged rocks protruding from the coastline, a strange certainty filled her. Yes, he would be curious; curiously entranced by her flowing silver hair and her large, imploring violet eyes. Perhaps, by human standards, he would judge her to be beautiful?' Sakura giggled, fully engrossed in the main character's thoughts. Lumina was such an adorable, inquisitive little thing – how could her handsome prince not fall for her? Just as she was ready to turn the page and read on, a shadow fell over the book. Sakura blinked, directing large, confused eyes in the direction of the light's obstruction – and her heart gave a little jump.
Sai was standing over her, wearing a black shirt that looked, as usual, a little too small for him. Even beneath the sun's glorious rays he seemed deathly pale.
"Excuse me," he said politely, evidently noticing the way Sakura's body instinctively tensed. "Am I intruding?"
Yes, Sakura thought, but what came out of her mouth was an equally as polite and chirpy, "Not at all!"
She watched, surprised and a little puzzled, as Sai took a seat beside her beneath the shade of the tree. His eyes moved to the book in her hands, and he nodded pointedly at it.
"You enjoy folktales?"
"Oh," Sakura glanced down, feeling oddly embarrassed at having been caught reading such a fanciful story. "Um, not really, I mean- maybe sometimes? Just occasionally." Okay, just shut up right now, she told herself. This is Sai. He's weird. You don't even care what he thinks. Her inner voice was much more outspoken and headstrong than her outer persona, and Sakura often rued that she couldn't switch the two around.
"I do too," Sai disclosed, causing Sakura's lips to part in astonishment. "Perhaps that is how it all started," he added thoughtfully, his inky-black gaze turning up to the sky, as if the cloudless, endless blue somehow offered all the answers to all questions he had in mind.
"I-" Sakura began uncertainly, not sure whether she really wanted to understand what he was talking about. Something had always felt- off- about the dark-haired young man sitting beside her. She had never quite been able to put her finger on it, however. Perhaps she had just never taken the time to get to know him? Maybe Sai was just misunderstood.
Wasn't that what Naruto had once been, also?
"How what started?" she ventured to ask.
In response, Sai dug into his own rucksack. There were two small dolls attached to the zip, she noted – funny how she had never noticed before – one with dark hair, the other, silver. Were they supposed to be representations of real people, she silently wondered? She watched as Sai took what looked like a medium sized sketching pad out of the bag. He flipped it open, silently showing her some pages, and Sakura caught her breath. Inside were the most beautiful, vibrant creations. Had he truly drawn them? She already knew the answer. Her eyes moved to him, as she wrestled with internal awe. Who knew that strange Sai possessed such a wonderful talent? Sakura was overcome with curiosity, and the need to scrutinise the splendour of his work up close.
"May I look?" she asked.
Wordlessly, Sai passed the sketch-book over to her. "Wow," she breathed, as her eyes took in the rich, strong colours strewn across the pages. Pictures of lush green valleys, flowing, cobalt waterfalls, pretty cottages and all kinds of beautifully captured animals leapt out from the pages. "This is amazing. You could set up your own art exhibition."
When she was greeted with more silence, Sakura glanced at him. He was watching her with a look that made her newfound appreciation wane considerably. Sai, who was always smiling blankly, was certainly not smiling now.
"I believe the last page is for you," he informed her softly. Alarm whispered through Sakura's veins, but her fingers were somehow glued to the rough-textured paper. Swallowing, she flipped to the last page, and stared confusedly down at the picture before her eyes.
A beautiful meadow, littered with flowers of every colour. She was all at once reminded of the vivid dream she'd awoken from that very morning and caught her breath. It was just a coincidence, she tried to reassure herself. But Sai was watching her intently, in a way that made her stomach form strange, inexplicable knots of dread.
"Do you recognise it?" he questioned her, his tone still perfectly polite.
Sakura shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed onto the beautiful pastel piece. But it did look familiar. It looked almost exactly like the field she had dreamed about.
"That's funny," Sai mused, as if he were talking to himself. "Usually, the pieces produced during a nocturnal episode mean something."
"Nocturnal episode?" Sakura repeated, growing more startled by the second. What in the world did he mean?
Sai seemed to catch himself, and then he did offer his characteristic, empty smile. It did little to reassure Sakura. "Ah, allow me to explain. Sometimes I wake up to find that I have drawn something during the night. Except that I never remember doing so."
Sakura stared incredulously at him. She had heard of sleep-walking before, but drawing in sleep? Drawing things that he claimed were somehow connected to people he barely knew? It was too odd, too strange. She politely held the sketch-book out for him to take back, but he shook his head.
"Please keep the drawing. I feel, somehow, that those flowers- they are connected to you, Sakura."
Sakura didn't want to keep the drawing. And she most certainly did not want to talk to weird Sai anymore. She deposited the sketch-pad in the space between them and hastily gathered her things. "I've got to go," she said senselessly. "Thank you for sharing your drawings with me, Sai."
She rose and hurried away, without looking back.
Sakura couldn't get the thought of the picture – or Sai – out of her mind during her last two lessons of the day. Instead of paying attention in her final Literature class, she found herself comparing the meadow he had drawn to the one she had dreamed about. Were they truly identical? Did it really mean anything if they were? She loved myths and magic, but she drew a firm line at the supernatural. It was just a crazy coincidence. Why was she even dwelling over it? A poke in her lower back made her jump, and she whipped her head around to glare at Ino, who raised her eyebrows questioningly. When Sakura merely shook her head, Ino mouthed, 'Ten more minutes!' and winked. Sakura turned back to the passage she had supposedly been studying, but the words refused to sink in. Why couldn't she concentrate?
She outwardly flinched again when the bell signalling the end of the day rang shrilly outside the lecture room. Dumping her things back into her bag, Sakura silently pushed her chair back in.
"Whoo! Festival time girls!" Ino declared, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. She grabbed Sakura's arm and dragged her out into the corridor, oblivious to her best friend's discomfort. She chattered on about the plans for the afternoon, but Sakura barely heard them. Her eyes were searching the swarm of students, looking for something – or someone. Was Sai coming to the Festival too? Sakura desperately hoped not. She debated whether to tell Ino about what had happened, but one glance at the excited blonde next to her made her stem the thought. She didn't want to burden her friend with her insignificant troubles – not when they were just about to head off to the Festival. It hadn't even meant anything. She resolutely decided that she wasn't going to think about it anymore.
They met the boys at the car-park. Naruto was seated in his outrageously coloured orange and black convertible boasting the private plate: KYUUB1. He'd always evaded requests to explain the meaning behind his odd choice of vehicle identification number. In the car with him were Shikamaru, smoking idly on a cigarette with the sleeves of his pale blue shirt rolled up, Kiba, Lee and Choji – who was significantly restricting the amount of space in which the other two young men had to move.
"Geez, Choji, maybe if you didn't eat so frickin' much, I'd actually be able to breathe back here," Sakura heard Kiba sneer.
Choji continued to munch on his popcorn, oblivious to his friend's complaints.
Ino sauntered over the car, stopping pointedly at Naruto's side. "Hey boys," she greeted flirtatiously. "How about a race to the park?"
"You're on!" Naruto grinned wickedly, as Sakura, Hinata and Tenten took their seats inside Ino's car.
"What are the stakes?" Shikamaru asked coolly, exhaling smoke. He kept his eyes ahead of him, which only made Ino more determined to get him to look at her.
"That'd depend on how high you'd like them to be," she purred. Shikamaru's gaze flickered briefly onto her at that, before returning to admire Neji's car before him. He gave no response. Ino was just silently marvelling at how extremely sexy Shikamaru was, when Tenten honked impatiently at her.
"Hey! A good way to win would be to leave before them? C'mon, Ino!"
"Heh," Kiba smirked. "Ladies first. We'll beat you either way."
"You are incorrect," Shino Aburame, another oddball who always wore sunglasses and possessed an unhealthy fascination of insects, remarked from Neji's car. "Why are you incorrect? Because we will arrive there first."
Neji Hyuuga, Hinata's aloof cousin, directed a haughty look Naruto's way – before purposefully revving the engine of his dark-blue sports car and speeding out of the parking area. Sakura heard Tenten sigh beside her, and suppressed an amused smile. So much for the two just being friends. She knew the brunette was hopelessly smitten by tall, dark and handsome Neji – even if he did have social issues. A screeching, indignant Ino hurried back to her car, dove in and turned on the ignition, eager to beat Shikamaru's ride at least. The drive to the Festival's location went by in a fast, adrenaline rushed merge of colour, laughter and deafening pop music.
Author's note
I had to split the chapter up here for ease-of-reading purposes, as it was getting really long (approaching eight thousand words). The preview I have currently posted on my profile page will take place next chapter. The good news is that the next instalment is complete, because it was written as one big chunk – it just needs to be proof-read. Please leave your thoughts about this, keeping in mind that I'm still building up Sakura's normal life here, in anticipation of it coming crashing down – quite literally. Lots of exciting events will be kicking off in the Festival next chapter, including Sakura meeting a certain somebody, so watch this space! I won't reveal exactly when she's going to be snatched, but it is coming up soon.
Quietus will be updated (hopefully with a link to the finished picture I have requested) one final time before Something Tangible; again I apologise for the delay in getting the final chapter out. It has been a very difficult one for me to write, and I've changed it countless times. I appreciate everybody's patience in the meanwhile. Thank you for reading everyone; expect an update from me hopefully within the next week or so.