Chapter: 2

Posted: 4/9/06

Chapter Rating: K+

Warning: None

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Konoha's Broken Feet

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Was it blue? No, it was too dark. Much too dark. Blue's could be dark, though, couldn't they? My eyes glanced down at my dress, then back at Ino's eyes. A perfect match.

Those eyes threw daggers at me.

"Sakura, what's wrong?" Her voice combed itself over with bristle and impatience. I disregarded the sound and waved my hand in her face.

"Nothing, nothing," I heard myself say. "Please stop asking."

She chewed the inside of her cheek, hands slung at her hips. "This only came up today," she mumbled, glancing around the flower shop and finding it vacant. Her cheeky faced turned back to me. "I know better than anybody when there's something off about you. Tell me."

"Something 'off,' eh?" A hollow laugh blew through my teeth, though her words unsettled me. I turned my eyes away from the ones latched onto mine and skimmed over the surrounding tables. It was noontime, and the Yamanaka Flower Shop was closed to visitors. I could hear raised voices outside, laughing and conversing as people sped by, shopping baskets in tow. At least, that's what I imagined.

"Sakura, look at me."

My eyes lodged themselves on a space somewhere over her head. "I told you, nothing is wro—"

"I know you better than that, Haruno." And then she said it, her voice dropping disarmingly. "It's about him, isn't it? Did you hear something?"

I could feel my teeth clatter against one another like a stack of broken dishes. My face fell into my hands, and I finally told my friend what had happened the night before.

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I had checked my watch. 7:48… Cheeks prickling in the remnants of an Indian summer, I had forced my feet to speed down the dusted street. I was home, practically.

It had been a bad night, I remember. Too hot, too moist, though too chilly at the same time. Purple-gray thunderclouds gathered over my head, making me feel stooped and hardly higher than two feet tall. I wished it would just rain already; the waiting made me feel sick. I was not a patient person.

Mail. Damn, damn, damn. Circling around again, I nearly tripped over my feet in a rush to find the end-of-the-street mailbox. 40215 was the Haruno's number… Ah. There. It was always my mother who did these things, and I felt awkward as I fumbled with the keys.

Two bills… I disregarded crinkly envelopes as I retraced the sidewalk, heading home. We didn't get much mail—never had. My family was so tiny and unsociable that we didn't seem to know enough people who would actually bother sending something through post. If anybody received something, though, it was my mother. She was a part-time nurse at the clinic and oftentimes asked her patients to write her if they needed a refill on prescriptions.

That was why I stopped short when I weeded out a letter address to me. That was it—just "Sakura." Feeling the ecstatic twinge in my fingers, I padded up the remainder of our driveway and let myself into the house. It was unlocked, as usual, so I didn't have a need to pull my eyes from my name. Sakura…

I didn't recognize the penmanship as I pressed through our pale, pasty kitchen. The bills were set atop the counter, but I misjudged the distance and had to scoop them off the floor. Passing through the halls, I heard my mother at the sewing machine in the living room. She was working on a new kimono for herself, I think. I didn't care. I closed myself in my room.

Who would need to mail me? I wanted to know, but there wasn't an addressee on the back, just a sadly blank, white space. That frustrated me as I squeezed myself between the sheets of my bed and pulled the chord to my lamp so that it turned on. The light made the paper look even paler, dingier, than before. I tore it open.

Tugging out the paper, I saw that it was neat, lined—the kind we used to use in the Academy. Unfolding it, I choked on a gasp.

I thought it was a spider or something, rolling out onto my lap, but my eyes quickly stomped out that fear. It was hair… Pinching the clog of strands up between my fingers, I held it a safe distance from my face.

Light caught on strands, causing the black to shine as though it was newly washed. I was bewildered to say the least and could only hope that it was human hair. I set it on my bedside dresser, just to be safe, as I unfolded the waiting letter.

I'm the worst at recognizing at which point it is best to react. Some occasions I'm too slow in thinking, too sluggish to realize the true importance of an action. Most times, however, I act too quickly and fail to soak up the finer details of the situation.

Now, as I ran my fingers over the three selective words, I forced my mind to calm itself, to analyze every possible cause that could have attributed to this…

There was only one reason that prodded itself into my brain. Holding the paper inches from my eyes, I reread the line over for the fifth time.

We have him.

My eyes could not help but wander over to my bedside table, where the black hair, shiny but coarse, feathered out over the wood.

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Author's Note: Short chapter, I know, but that's all there was to tell about this particular part of the story. I could have tagged more onto it, but then it'd be running into the next chapter's territory. I made the wait for this one extra short to make up for it.

On to the reviews…

Achava: Sorry about all the confusion – I get that a lot. My beginnings are always hard to understand. I'll be back to review some of your stuff soon.

Aliana1: "Wonderful"? Wow, thank you! You're sweet. See you next chapter…

sw337p34n3k0-ch4n: Don't worry – I don't shoot innocent reviewers. You're safe. Anyway, thanks much for the review and input…I really appreciate that you all took the time to give me some feedback.

See you all next chapter, estimated in 4-5 days.