Chapter XI: Fairy Tale
He gazed down at her.
This is the third time, he thought bitterly. He recalled the times before… he had shared his waiting together with another person.
Uchiha Sasuke.
He was, obviously, concerned. Sai didn't really care about others, but this was Sakura. She was just… special. To others, she didn't seem so, with the exception of her abnormal natural hair color, a shocking soft pink, and with her unusually large forehead. But other than that… nothing.
But underneath that fragile façade, she was just so much more. He couldn't explain it with words, and he didn't attempt to, either; it was embarrassing enough as it was, the description too cliché to be true, as though something taken from a cheesy romantic story.
But it almost was. A cheesy romantic story, that is.
And he'd just be another one of the countless males that'd fall in love with the main character, and she'd end up with him, of course…
Because that's how beautiful fairy tales work.
Too bad reality's not a fairy tale. Beautiful princes are not always what they seem, are they?
And he knew. She'd never return his feelings. But yet he was so foolishly, stupidly, pathetically in love…
In love with a girl – no, woman – whose heart belonged to another.
Whose heart had always belonged to another.
Just like light would belong to dark. And dark would belong to light. Because you always seek out the opposites, because they're the ones standing out in the crowd. Light won't seek light, and dark won't seek dark.
Unlike in fairy tales.
Ah, the irony of fairy tales.
Sakura's POV
Things were… strange. Just a blur, and all of a sudden, it was all white, then black, then white again… finally replaced with some odd colors.
Red, orange, yellow. It looked like the sky was on fire. The sun was setting, the city around me awakening to life. People were tiredly walking out of their offices, dragging their throbbing feet towards their homes, towards their families – towards their happiness. Dozy smiles, flickering just the slightest as they were reminded of the duties that awaited them at home - the whining of the children, the grumbling of their partner, the lousy shows on TV - adorned their faces, whether young or old, male or female.
Except one girl.
This little girl, not aged more than approximately seven, was short. Short, with bubblegum-colored hair, wearing an oddly familiar dress painted in red – even though it didn't go with her hair color – a red ribbon drawing a line between one half of her scalp and the other, showcasing her somewhat large forehead.
She was running down the streets. Something indescribable could be read in her jade eyes; not even I, a psychiatrist, could read the blended emotions. But wait a minute, this girl…
She looked a lot like me. No, she had to be me. I had never seen another person with pink hair before. And… it was just a feeling; after all, she could be a very distant relative, but I felt that she really was me. I tried to open my mouth to speak as she rushed past me hurriedly, but somehow, no sound came out.
Instead, the scene automatically followed that girl, down the streets, where the street lamps were awakening to life, already drunk men were sneering slyly as they played their final cards in a game of poker, others swinging their half-empty bottles before taking a huge swig of the alcoholic beverage.
Until she reached someplace out of city. It resembled the typical neighborhood; a neat line of neat houses with neat people inside them. But the house she went into gave me the wrong vibe – it didn't look different from the others, painted white just like them and with a new red roof, and half-neat garden, it looked just as usual.
But it just gave me the wrong vibe. Like there was something horrible within… like…
Like a witch.
Okay, where the hell did I get that from? Oh, right. Spirited Away. I'm not obsessed! It's very healthy to watch the same movie a lot of times -
Anyway, the little girl put her hand on the bronze-colored doorhandle, stopping on the doorstep with hesitance in her every move. She seemed to have gathered courage enough to push the door gently open, as I followed her, unwillingly, invisibly, even comfortably, into the dark hall, only lit by the last sunshine before the sea was going to swallow the sun whole, embracing the cold of the night once again.
' – no, she's not at home. Please call again later. Bye,' a man's voice barked as he put the receiver down. 'You. Stop.'
The girl flinched; she was halfway up the stairs, having not even spoken a word, it was impossible for me to comprehend why exactly she seemed to be so terrified of this man. Until I could scent it.
He was drunk.
'You little bitch,' he murmured dangerously as he made his way up the stairs. The girl, who was now turned towards him, backed fearfully a few steps upwards.
'You gave our phone number to a stranger?' he continued, without even being aware of her mortified whimpering of hardly audible apologies – and if he did, seemed to ignore them. 'You bitch. You little meaningless piece of shit. You tryin' to report me to the authorities, are ya? You bitch. Not even grateful with what you have, eh? Just because your little damn mother spoiled you…'
He grabbed hold of the collar of her dress, holding her up like a rag doll. She seemed to suppress tears.
'S-s-sorry…,' was the only thing Sakura could make out. She felt inclined to interfere, but somehow, Sakura couldn't even stir to call out to the poor girl.
'I knew I should've just dumped you,' he growled. 'Dumped ya on the streets, together with those kids, ya know? I saw one of them the other day. Nice piece of shit, ya know what I mean? You would have ended up there if I hadn't taken ya in, you get that, bitch?'
She nodded numbly, silently.
'Good.' He slapped her hard across the cheek. I gasped, though I was just as mute as ever to them. 'A little present for your good deed.'
Laughing, he descended down the staircase, leaving the girl there, shaking, sobbing hoarsely, but suppressing the shiny droplets that could be seen in the corners of her eyes. She awkwardly crawled up the remaining way up the stairs, into her bedroom where she closed the white door – I was inside the room by now – and sat down by her bed.
She looked fondly at pictures on the tiny shelf – no, piece of wood; it didn't even look like a shelf – above her bed. The glass of the frames were slightly cracked, as though they had been thrown to the floor, which I didn't doubt, not with that father of hers. There were only three photos there; one of a blonde girl – Ino-pig? But there're plenty of blue-eyed blondes – grinning widely, while she herself awkwardly hid behind the previous, smiling shyly, the second, not very shockingly but yet astoundingly, an older version of herself – her mother.
My mother.
Pink, lustrous hair blowing in the wind as jade orbs curiously stared at the camera, the older woman and the tiny girl leaning against her bed on the floor were more alike than two carbon copies. A tiny smile adorning her lips were the only thing that could tell the two apart – a smile I now recognized as my own, but it seemed foreign if I tried to imagine the child having it on her face.
'Mom,' the little girl mouthed.
The third…
It was a picture of her father. The staggering alcoholic I had just encountered was so bizarrely different from the man in the picture, yet there was a close resemblance to both; gold-brown hair and hazel eyes, but the one in the picture was muscular and handsome, and a mischievous grin yet some more adult seriousness in his eyes could be seen. There were no signs that he'd turn into the wrecked disaster he was.
'Dad.'
Once again inaudibly, the girl tenderly stroked first the photo of her mother, and then of her father. And suddenly, the tears she had suppressed came rushing down her cheeks in streams – tears I felt trickling down my own as well, the familiar pain of being neglected coming back.
Well, so much for the witch.
End Sakura's POV
'Sai?'
She was surprised, he could tell. His black eyes traveled up and down, taking in her features; though seven years had gone since he last had seen her, she hadn't changed the slightest. She had become a tad taller, but so had he, so it was the same height difference still; but her light golden hair was as beautiful as ever, even though she hadn't had time to put it in her horsetail as usual, her curves still sharp and her sapphire eyes still wide, but missing that sparkle of happiness…
Just as last time he had seen her – in the hospital, beside Sakura's bed. Despite the two of them being Sakura's best friends, they hadn't met, even though Sakura had really wanted them to. Sai never attended Sakura's birthday parties, because he knew very well that she was the one throwing them.
Ino.
'Yeah.' His response was dull and flat, and a worn, not so truthful smile appeared on his lips, just as in the old days. 'Hello, gorgeous.'
'I forgot you used to call me that.' The smile on her face mirrored his. She put the bouquet of flowers in the vase beside Sakura's bed.
'You didn't have time to fix your hair, yet you had time to get flowers?' He raised an eyebrow, questioning what she had done.
'And you forgot that my parents are florists.' She paused, then a look of remorse filled her eyes as she stared down at Sakura's pale face. 'How is she?'
Sai shook his head. 'Not very good.'
'Oh…' She paused, and then: 'What did the doctor – doctors – say?'
'They said that she was lucky to have survived – the damages were severe.'
'Yeah – but she has a guardian angel, doesn't she?'
Sai flinched.
'He's my guardian angel!'
Her voice… that happiness.
She believed he'd protect her… forever.
Sai's fist clenched.
But he was the one who had made her smile disappear. And he couldn't even stop him from doing so.
How pathetic.
'Even though I told her not to get so full of herself...,' Ino continued softly, oblivious to the fact that Sai didn't even seem to listen.
Sakura's POV
I hated that man.
Even though I had no memories of him except what I had just witnessed, I hated him. How could he? It was not out of self-pity that I felt this way, I would've felt this way no matter had it been me or a complete stranger. But that girl – me – was crying so helplessly, and he just burst into the room, bellowed that she was a useless weakling, smelling even more of drunkenness than before. He had thrown her out into the cold, cruel night.
And she had obeyed. Wiping her tears, she had strolled down the street – as she still was doing.
And all of a sudden, they appeared.
A couple of girls and some boys. The stereotypical bullies, the boys weren't too handsome but looked strong for being so young, and the girls were dressed very 'lady-likely', and their laughter was not pure and innocent, but tainted with the desire to hurt others.
'Oh, look,' one of the girls drawled with her dark, probably unintentionally manly voice. 'Isn't that Miss Snotty?'
'Yeah,' the other agreed with an inhumanly squeaky voice. 'The one who's always with Ino.' The girl looked extremely frightened, and yelped as the latter grabbed her by the collar. 'Ain't so brave when she's not around, eh?'
'Tch. She's never brave. What a coward she is. Got some money, brat?' One of the guys, who looked a few years older, sneered as he pulled the younger me away from the second girl. The other started rummaging through her pockets.
'N-no… I… I need that…,' she murmured.
'Oh! She's got cash!' the boy exclaimed as a handful of coins appeared on his palm. The first boy let her go, but the girls looked dismayed.
'She deserves a good beating,' the first growled. 'She's so full of herself, isn't she?'
'Yeah… she thinks she's so high and mighty; she never speaks, as if she's too good to talk with us…'
'True.' The boys nodded in agreement, and as on cue, the petrified and scared girl was kicked at by one of them, followed by more kicks as she sobbed, begging them to stop, until…
'Oi.'
I froze. That voice…
End Sakura's POV
'So you succeeded.'
'Of course. What did you expect?'
His tongue licked his lips in satisfaction. 'You're such an excellent actor.'
A bow. 'But so are you.'
'Wasn't it difficult?'
'No, no. She's the closest to Tsunade-sama, I'd believe… and extremely naïve as well. She always thinks the best about everybody.'
'No, that was not what I meant…' He smirked. 'She was your lover after all, wasn't she…'
The stony face with the mad smile printed onto it made no response.
'… Kabuto?'
Sakura's POV
It couldn't be. No, no, it just couldn't – he couldn't be here, not in my memories –
The girls and boys stopped kicking her, looking up in fright. The boy before them had a striking resemblance to Uchiha-san; black spiky hair, obsidian eyes filled with coldness, his hands shoved into the pockets of his white shorts.
'You're cowardly enough to hit a girl smaller than you?' He looked with disgust at the boys, who cowered slightly. Strange – they were taller than him.
'Oh… w-well…' One of the girls smiled nervously. 'Well, she's too full of herself, and –'
'I didn't ask for your opinion,' he interrupted her with a dangerous glare, making her whimper pathetically. 'You people are pathetic.'
Everybody flinched and backed slightly away. Except one guy.
This guy was the stereotypical leader of the stereotypical bully gang. Stupid-looking, fat, spoiled and annoying in general, he stepped forward and said with a threatening voice: 'You're not little full of yourself as well, brat. You know who you're talking with?'
'Oi… Christopher….,' one of the other boys called out to him warningly, with a hint of fear in his voice.
'Don't know. Don't care,' he responded with a monotone voice.
'Why, you…' Christopher aimed a punch at the boy's face, but he just dodged and kicked him in the stomach, making said bully fly backwards and into a pole, falling into a sitting position as he grunted out of pain. Faster than I'd have thought a seven years old boy could move, the Uchiha-san lookalike had put his foot onto Christopher's face, pushing him further down into the ground.
With a familiar smirk on his lips.
A too familiar smirk.
'Tch.'
And with that snort, he walked off, leaving the girl who was petrified out of shock on the ground, the gang of bullies muttering something that sounded like, 'You won't get away next time,' before rushing off, half-dragging, half-carrying Christopher on the way.
Even though nothing happened to prove it, I had this strange feeling that they never bullied her again.
End Sakura's POV
"Do you think that fairy tales can come true?"
His question surprised her; creamy eyes with no irises widened slightly just to return to their normal state. For all these years, he had never asked such a question – the answer was obvious, at least in his opinion – or so it had seemed. Uzumaki Naruto was one to believe in fairy tales, to believe in true heroes and true deeds.
Even though the old Uzumaki Naruto had faded away with time, replaced with a more shadowed, bitter replica, battered by events that had torn and shred his happiness to bits just to replace it slightly with the existence of his wife, something he was more grateful for than he could show.
But Hinata knew. And she loved him too.
"Yeah…" She paused, staring out of the window. The petals of the cherry blossom blossoming outside of this pain-filled psych ward, where blood-curdling screams had become something normal and hearty laughs something beyond imagination for most prisoners, were scattered in the brutal wind, dancing their last waltz.
"I think they can."
A silence followed. It was no awkward silence, like so many other silences that had fallen between the two of them – the memory almost made the blue-haired woman smile – but it was a silence of understanding.
Understanding somebody…
Her eyelids closed slowly as she recalled memories in her mind, voices and images blending together to form a slideshow while thoughts peacefully streamed through her brain.
There're so many ways to understand someone…
A picture of two glaring, bickering boys, one blonde and one raven-haired, around the age of twelve, a pink-haired girl in the background –
… that's what Sakura-san said.
- another picture of two fourteen-year-olds as they celebrated their oldest and tiniest (and the only pink-haired) friend's fifteenth birthday –
I understood you, Naruto-kun…
- a third of a girl in hysterics as she partly screamed, partly sobbed, begging for mercy as she watched the blood rain down on her, the blood of her two best friends –
… just like you understood Sasuke-san…
- and a final one –
I let your fairy-tale unfold. And you let theirs. And eventually, ours unfolded as well…
- a strange blur, blood, anguished screams and tears melting together to form a face –
But not all fairy-tales end well, do they
- a pink-haired girl with emerald eyes, smiling innocently…
"No," his low voice said, as though he was afraid to speak too loudly, "no, they don't."
She looked up in mild surprise. "You read my thoughts…"
"Not really. I was just thinking the same…" He broke off. "Do you think they'll be alright, Hinata-chan?"
"I don't know…" She hated to say it out loud; it didn't only hurt the one she loved the most, it hurt her as well. "But it's a fairy-tale, isn't it? Fairy-tales… they're supposed to end well…"
"'But when a fairy-tale comes true, that's when it becomes scary…'," Naruto murmured. Hinata winced. A picture of a pink-haired teen ripping apart a brand-new story book to the shocked eyes of the store clerk, her tears flowing down her cheeks freely, her sweet face distorted into a grimace of, unmistakably, fear, reemerged among her long forgotten, long suppressed, memories.
"I can't help but agree," was all she managed to whisper before her voice stopped to obey her.
Sakura's POV
He used to call me princess.
That's not anything I can remember clearly. But I remember that, even after my amnesia, I hated that word. Princess. Fairy-tales. They disgusted me. I didn't know why… they just made me feel uncomfortable. No, more like nauseous…
I watched the little girl – the younger me – stand by the closed bookstore. She gazed with longing, tearful eyes at the book that was showcased in the window. 101 Fairy Tales: including classics such as Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.
It was a beautiful book, I had to admit. As beautiful as books could be, anyway – but it looked ancient, yet so oddly new – maybe it's the way you look at something your grandmother owned but never used. The pages looked much softer and more fragile than the sharp, edgy pages of the newer books that were also showcased – more adult ones such as When the Lambs Silence among others. And the cover of the book – the color of dark wood, I recognized the color – the color of mahogany.
Mahogany.
Something flashed in my mind. A mahogany chair. Somebody holding me close… a singing voice that belonged to a female in the background, singing softly… I didn't recognize the song… and then that male voice who told the story…
Do you like the story, princess?
Yeah! I love it!
Do you want to hear another one?
Okay!
But this is a real fairy tale, little princess. It's a story about a little princess who became the most beautiful princess there ever was, but in order to become that, there was something she had to do…
What would that be?
She would have to do whatever her father, the king, said. Because they had to move far, far away from their country… they had to escape… because there's a person out there who wants to kill her father, see? But he doesn't know who. He just knows there's somebody who wants to kill him, and nobody believes him. But the little princess did. And together, they formed a kingdom of their own…
And then, a blur. But the voice started again. But with a much, much more different tone.
You traitor, you fucking traitor, you filth… you…
B-b-but I haven't d-done anything! I promise, w-whatever I did, I won't do it again! J-just d… don't h-hit me…
You… the blood that's in your veins… it's HERS! It's filthy… it's… it's TAINTED…, he spat out the last words as though they were poisonous, and his eyes bulged dangerously. You're one of THEM, aren't you? Answer me, you little bitch, answer me! You're… you're…
B-but I… what are you talking… AH!
ANSWER ME! No, you won't kill me… I'll kill you first… I'll… kill… He grabbed the kitchen knife as she screamed in horror, backing away towards the wall. YOU!
LEAVE HER ALONE, RENOLD! a third voice screamed. GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF, THERE'S NOBODY WHO WANTS TO KILL YOU, SO GO BACK TO WORK! DO YOU WANT THE ENTIRE FAMILY TO STARVE TO DEATH?
You… YOU BITCH! GO TO HELL! IT'S MY FUCKING HOUSE ANYWAY AND YOU DON'T DO A SHIT TO HELP US, EITHER! EXCEPT GO AND HAVE OTHER MEN'S TONGUES IN YOUR MOUTH, SO YOU CAN ALWAYS GO AND TAKE A JOB AS A WHORE IF YOU EVER EVEN THOUGHT OF HELPING THIS GODDAMNED HOME!
GREAT! I WILL! AND YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF OUR LITTLE PRINCESS, IF YOU THINK THAT'S NO WORK!
Mommy… daddy… don't… don't f-fight...
"No!" I awoke to 'reality' – if you would call that reality, anyway – as the startled voice of the younger me called out. "No, go away!"
I recognized the scent – too much alcohol. The man whom was 'talking' to her was middle-aged, but clearly taller as she was tiny – I was tiny – and he could hardly walk straight. Yet he stood in the way, and he had grabbed her arm.
"C'mon, little darlin'… I can show you the stars…"
"I don't want to see the stars!" she yelled in panic. "Just leave me alone, please!"
"C'mon… don't be such a bore…"
"Why don't you mess with people your own age?" a cold voice interrupted them. I froze. Again?
The man looked at – no, looked down – at him, his forehead creased in a frown. "Don't play superhero here, buddy, 'cause I ain't gonna let you have the fun. This ain't any of ya business anyway."
"It's of course not my business, but you're blocking my path, you idiot," the boy spat, "and besides, you gross me out."
This HAD to be Uchiha-san. Who could BE this rude except him? To a SENPAI, nonetheless? Okay, not much of a senpai, but you know what I mean, don't you?
"Why you…" The man let go of her – me – briefly to charge at the Uchiha-san lookalike, but he only 'hn'ed (who ELSE says 'hn'? It's not even a WORD!) and hit him – I recognized it – at a vital point. His eyes widening in surprise, the staggering alcoholic fell to the ground, groaning in pain.
"What the fuck did you do to me, you little – argh!" The Uchiha-san lookalike had now stepped on his head.
"Shut up. You're annoying," he snapped as he wrinkled his forehead, and then glanced at the younger me. She was crying slightly, bruises from before still evident on her face. He heaved a sigh. "Come along."
Strange. I could've sworn I walked down the same road before. Yet, the past me didn't utter anything. She looked around, slightly puzzled by the familiar surroundings, but did not question anything. The Uchiha-san lookalike remained characteristically quiet.
And then, he stopped. It was quite the regular house. A white-painted fence, a slightly organized garden and a brick house. And it was right next to…
The past me widened her eyes, and I knew I was right. We – I and the Uchiha-san lookalike – were neighbors. I waited for her to comment on that, but she didn't. He instead gave her a slightly annoyed glance. "Don't make one sound when you're in there. Or else I'm gonna make you wish the old geezer had taken you instead."
She gulped down, looking anxious as they tiptoed over the threshold. The house was seemingly normal. Nothing about it gave off a wrong vibe; it was just the average living room/hall they had stepped into, with two staircases leading to the second floor on both sides of the room. There was just one thing I didn't like about this place…
That tense silence. It was like watching a horror movie – or rather, living a horror movie – any second, something would just jump out or something horrible would happen. He didn't utter a word as he went into the kitchen next to the living room. As she proceeded to follow, he gave her a warning glare, and she – I – obediently leaned against the lavender-colored wall, waiting for him to return.
And then… there were footsteps. My heart skipped a beat – and it seemed the past me's heart had done so as well – and our heads darted, alarmed, at the direction of the sound – the top of the stairs. Somebody was walking down the stairs… and then I saw him.
He looked like an older version of Uchiha-san… or rather, a younger. He was perhaps in his early teens, but a strange feeling tells me he was twelve. Maybe I got to know this later on. The only difference that made him different to Uchiha-san was that his hair was not a spiky chicken-like hairstyle – it was neatly pulled back into a slightly spiky horsetail…
But everything else clicked. Could this be the real Uchiha-san? His cold nature… his piercing eyes… but even so, there was something that made me even more uncomfortable –
I uttered a gasp at the same time as the past me did the same. He had pinned the past me to the wall the moment he had seen me, and his fixating stare, those crimson eyes (hadn't they just been obsidian a second ago?) glaring intently into mine.
I relived it all from my own point of view. He was scaring me, and very much so. And his voice… his hoarse voice, it sounded so oddly familiar…
"Don't make me kill you…" The words rolled off his lips naturally, yet they were terrifying to hear, especially something about the way he said kill… "Little doll…"
"Onii-san!"
Our heads turned back to the Uchiha-san lookalike – he looked angered and… frightened? He was holding the first aid kit in his arms, and I felt a pang of relief that he had arrived in time before something had happened.
"Tch…" The snort was hardly audible as he walked away from me, climbing up the stairs again. The past me's terrified face turned to the Uchiha-san lookalike, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he muttered: "C'mon… let's go…"
Sakura. How ironic.
I looked around – the place he had brought me to… blossoming trees, sparkly pink petals flying in the wind like snowflakes…a playground… but nobody was there. We sat down on a bench – or rather, they did – I stood close to them, unbelievably close, yet so far away. Far away was the sound of children's laughter.
"Your bruises," he muttered angrily, opening the first aid kit.
"N… no… it's fine… I can do without any help… it doesn't hurt anyway…," she stammered, still shaken after the event.
"Never mind my brother. He's…" Something flashed across his eyes – red? – but he just turned away. "Never mind."
She listened attentively, her – my – green eyes wide with thoughtfulness. "It's okay. I'm…" She trailed off. Used to it, were the words that crossed my mind. "… fine."
"Your bruises," he repeated, shoving the first aid kit into her hands.
"Thanks…," she said softly and started to treat herself. His eyes rested on her, slightly intently. She only winced the slightest when she saw them, and instead asked: "What's your name?"
I stiffened. The million dollar question."Uchiha," the name came out naturally, with just the slightest hint of pride, as shivers went down my spine. "Sasuke."
I knew it. Yet the haunting feeling couldn't leave me. All of a sudden I was freezing. Did Ino, Sai and the others know about this? Did I… did I know them back then?
Yes, they must know. The bullies said I always was with Ino… I knew I had known her from before, but…
Did she know about Uchiha-san too?
"Protector," she instead said. He looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "That's what your name means." Her smile… that smile… this time, I recognized it.
It was my mother's smile.
"Yeah." He looked away, wearing a frown. "I know that."
"Maybe you're my guardian angel," she continued, a tiny giggle escaping her lips. "Sasuke-kun." She paused, and then added: "Just like in a fairytale!"
Sasuke-kun?
It was frighteningly familiar. My head throbbed with pain more than ever, the scene turning a bit blurry.
"Hn." A handsome smirk, even handsome for a seven year old, crossed his handsome features. "Don't expect too much."
She closed the first aid kit, done with treating herself, and handed it to him. And he walked away, leaving her there on the bench, her eyes intently following his back which was getting farther and farther away…
End Sakura's POV
"Ino… are you sure about this?"
The blonde turned, her hand still on the handle to the car's door. In the driver's seat sat her boyfriend, wearing that serious expression – when did he get it? He was always so carefree before – she hated to see.
It had been the same face expression when…
She bit her lip.
When Sakura had been missing.
"It's okay." She forced herself to smile, trying to focus on his eyes. "It's okay, Shikamaru, I can take care of myself. I'm not… seventeen anymore."
"I know that," he said in a low voice. "I didn't say you were. But…" His eyes glanced at the building they had come to a halt in front of. It was surrounded by blooming sakura trees, the petals flying about midair in a brutal dance, only to stop so they could fall and be caught by the wind again. "It's…"
"Dangerous?" A half-serious smile appeared on her face.
He silenced.
It's dangerous, Ino, where the hell do you think you're going! It's none of your business anyway –
Sasuke-kun's in there, Shikamaru! I've to talk to him – maybe he'll come to his senses – maybe…
Maybe he'll think you're Sakura. The words had stung, her face expression frozen in something between realization and pain. That's what you want, isn't it? It's no use, Ino! Realize it! He's already psychotic –
You don't understand, Shikamaru! Her scream had been unexpectedly shrill, even for her, almost hysterical. I wouldn't expect you to, either! After all, you've never been in love, haven't you?
"Aa," he said at last.
"I'm going to be safe," she kissed him briefly, "after all… I'm not Sakura."
He smirked slightly, "Aa. Be safe."
"I will," she whispered, and then stepped out of the car.
Sakura's POV
The park faded away to black. And then, as though I had just woken up from a dream, a blurry image became clearer and clearer, as a voice excitedly called: "Ino-chan! Ino-chan!"
Ino?
"Sakura? What?" I stared, astounded, at the seven years old version of the Ino I once knew. Her blonde hair was cut short, and she was – of course – much shorter, but still fashionably dressed, at least for a child, and her baby-blue eyes still sparkled like jewels, and I saw a couple of boys watch her from afar.
"Guess what!"
"What?" she grinned. Some girls nearby shot the younger me a dirty look, snorted and started to whisper and giggle tauntingly.
"I've got a crush!"
"Really? Who?" she wanted to know, her eyes widening in curiosity.
"Uchiha Sasuke-kun! He saved me yesterday… it was just like a fairy tale -"
Immediately, her eyes narrowed, and she backed a couple of steps, and snarled: "Don't be a fool, Haruno Sakura!"
End Sakura's POV
"Hello. I'm here to visit…" Her throat felt oddly dry, even though she had drunk two bottles of mineral water before she had left. "Uchiha Sasuke."
The receptionist glanced up, a look of bored surprise (however that was possible) adorning her chubby face. "And your name is…?"
"Yamanaka Ino. A," the word seemed so difficult to say… as though it hurt to say it, "friend."
"A friend, huh… well, that's unusual. Wait a sec, will you?" She grabbed the telephone and speedily dialed a number. "Hello? Kazeyama here. Yes… put me through to the boss. I don't care. This is something important," she shot a quick glance at Ino, "Uchiha's got a visitor. No, not a new psychiatrist. Just some friend. Okay. Bye."
She turned back to Ino. "Our boss is coming to pick you up in a minute. I don't know how you know Uchiha, but I'm gonna tell you one thing – that dude's dangerous. That's why our boss is gonna talk to you. Just wait a few min."
"Sure…," she answered slowly. She looked around; just the building filled her with more sadness. It was so dark… so gloomy… the walls, the ceiling, the floor, even the furniture were painted a strangely dark shade of grey.
Was this what Sakura saw everydaywas what popped up in her mind, as she recalled a picture of her own workplace, the colorful flower store her parents owned, with its shiny glass windows and the wonderful scent of the blooming flowers.
A pang of worry shot her as she thought of her best friend. We don't know her condition yet, the doctors had said. We have to inspect her wounds.
I knew it, she thought bitterly. I knew she shouldn't have become Sasuke-kun's psychiatrist. It's like history repeats itself… like everything's…
She searched the word, and when she found it, she felt as though she had received a punch in her stomach.
Cursed.
"Ino?" She spun around, facing a face she hadn't seen for too long; the shocked sapphire eyes belonging to Uzumaki Naruto stared at her in bewilderment.
I told you, Sakura –
"Hi, Naruto." She couldn't even force herself to smile, as her heart screamed to let the tears welling up in her eyes to stream down her face.
- don't be a fool.
"I'm here to see Sasuke-kun."
Fairy-tales can't be real.
Sorry for the extreme late update! But well, life's a royal mess - more info on my profile (which, for once, is updated). By the way, if you find punctuation missing, sentences/words being pulled together, or places where there shouldn't be any italics or bolds, I've to apologize. This computer is fucked up, I've no idea what's wrong with it, though. I just know that it majorly fucks up about everything I try to write in it. I'm finally done with chapter 13 after a long, long Writer's Block... so I hope you enjoyed chapter 11! Finally the long awaited past is here! Soon you'll be getting so much of the past you'll be probably be longing for the present... but oh well. That's life, dears.
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