Author's note: The final installment. Long over due. I'm terribly sorry. I had some ideas but none worked out until tonight. That's no excuse though.
Someone pointed out my horrid record for updates(which unfortunately occurred after the first summer ended) and said it was difficult to remember what had previously happened. Just in case, Emiko left Sasuke the night before she was to get the tattoo that would label her as gang property/member. She found Naruto and the others and, after a little while, managed to at least regain some of what friendship was formerly there. She stayed the night at Naurto's with Sakura, Ino, Shikamaru, Hinata and Kiba.
"Freedom is that instant between when someone tells you to do something and when you decide how to respond." -Dr. Jeffery Borenstein
Silence woke her. It really shouldn't have, spending so much time cramped in crowded, dead rooms should have left her comfortable with the caress of silence. Instead she woke sporadically through the night. At first she had wrenched upright, gasping wildly, only to be greeted with a steady blue haze from the television--which someone had evidently forgotten to turn off--and an orchestra of snores and murmurs. As time passed she woke less suddenly, grasped at her heart less and managed to reclaim sleep more easily. The ever-constant environment helped in a way. Despite the way the blue screen scraped at her eyes she would never turn it off. Instead she would lie back down and gaze at it through half-lidded eyes until the lullaby of her friends' slumbers nudged her to sleep.
As she waded back to consciousness once again, the absence of those comforts, her pillars, slapped her with a jolt into a sitting position. Her fingers clawed into her blanket while her eyes scurried over the area. No friends. The television was off. No noises. Silence. Darkness. Her breathing quickened and she scrambled in terror for the door, stumbling over her make-shift bed of cushions and tearing through the air for the door. Her hand met cool panels, and she tugged the door open. A thin ribbon of light spilled into the room and she eagerly drank in the relief that accompanied it.
She opened the door completely to find, despite the light that steadily crusaded through the room, silence prevailing through the house like a demanding, unyielding relative. Slowly, Emiko stepped into the hallway and paused,straining to hear a whisper of life. White socks made her footfalls soft on the hardwood floor as she warily crept through the halls. Sunlight streamed in pale threads through the windows to tell her of the feeble sun outside. Not unusual, she thought, with the winter approaching.
Intuition. Gut feelings. None of the churning nails in her chest prepared her for what she walked past. The window framed it like a picture born from the scorn of a malcontent artist. Naruto stood with his back to the house. A pale, slender arm was slung around his shoulders, and her eyes slowly followed it like a treasure map to the face. Breathing became a minimal notion as she stared at the face she had so recently forsaken. They were behind the house, Emiko realized as her feet carried her towards the window. Her fingers rested on the windowsill, and she stared at the scene. Sakura stood off to one side, her back also to Emiko, but her shaking fists were clearly noticeable despite the distance. Another feature that prodded Emiko for attention: the gun held carelessly in Sasuke's hand.
Her eyes fixated on the control Sasuke gripped in his hand. She had seen it before. The maintenance was indisputably the trademark of the Uchiha as well. It demanded all her will-power to move her gaze from the gun to his face. In all technicalities he was facing her but she could see his onyx eyes turned in Naruto's direction. She followed his gaze and quickly noticed the tremors startling her friend's frame. At that moment she realized what was happening; Once again she was standing by, watching as her friends proved themselves courageous. She had found courage in running and hiding like a mouse scared by the possibility of a shadow. Her lips set in a thin line and her brow furrowed as she mentally declared 'I will follow them this time.'
In her reverie and pep talk, she had failed to notice the mass that shifted into the picture. It wasn't until she had blinked back the self-assurance and clouded thoughts that she realized the new comer. Her heart practically massacred her throat as she recognized the slick hair and sickly pallor of the man standing barely two feet away from her, his back turned to her. She stepped back, one hand raised to her mouth as the pungent taste of vomit and fear curdled in her throat. 'Orochimaru,' the name conjured another gag as she stumbled away from the window and collapsed behind a wall. If he glimpsed her it would be over. She no longer had Sasuke's protection and she knew he would not hesitate to dispatch of her, the coward and traitor.
A dry sob shook her frame as she slid down the wall and sat on the floor. She knew that his appearance shouldn't drive her from her resolve to help, but his presence carried death and it suddenly shoved the situation into reality for her. The next sob wasn't dry but rather smothered by her shaking hands. She was a coward. No amount of praise and determination could make her feet carry her out into that battle. She hid her face in her hands and grimaced. The silence mocked her with her own thoughts but she stayed still, forcing her limbs to freeze despite the way they grunted in protest to her position.
"Pathetic."
Emiko jumped at the voice and immediately stared up in bewilderment and fear at the young man towering above her.
"I-" she cleared her throat, "What are you doing?" Her eyes snapped to the gun loosely clasped in his hand. If he noticed her change in attention, he did not react in any way.
He responded with a indistinct noise of disinterest. Emiko belatedly scolded herself for her satisfaction and amusement at his reaction--and her accurate prediction of how he would respond.She took the opportunity to speak and slowly lifted herself to her feet.
"I-I guess you got my messages," she said nervously. A shaky grin twitched on her lips as she scratched the back of her head. He didn't reply and she continued, "I mean, of course you did. You picked up on the second one." A frail chuckle escaped with her words. "I-I didn't meant to call again. I mean, that would be stupid--to call again. I guess I did call again though. That probably wasn't smart. Actually it wasn't. I mean, you picked up and I had to run away faster." The last word died a tortured demise in the frozen air. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot and looked down at her hands to see one finger nervously chipping at her nails.
Click.
Her head shot up, and she felt the chilled kiss of a muzzle on her forehead. Instantly she gazed past the gun and locked onto his face, searching for a hint of the humanity she had believed in.
"Really?" She questioned in a cracked voice. "I would have taken you for a creative murderer. Maybe strangle me with a watch. Smother me with a sheep. Stab me to death with a cracker. Something characteristic." She knew not what was responsible for her watery laughter, but prayed it would--if nothing else--perhaps reach out and claim a minute part of him that Orochimaru had yet to attain. "Maybe force-feed me some of your cooking-"
"You burnt the ramen," he cut in fluidly. Despite all stiff pretense her lips twitched into a smile and a weak laugh managed to slip out .
"Did not," she defended with a small smile.
"Did-"
"Not," she finished in as resolute a voice as possible. As her timid laugh died away, silence gleefully took its place. Seconds stretched on without a whisper of words between them. Emiko palms began to sweat and her heart beat quickened as the presence of the gun against her forehead became an ever present statement against her. She closed her eyes and felt the pressure amplified. Still, her thoughts distracted her tears from falling and instead focused on how she had reached such a situation.
"Why?"
The simple word jerked her from her thoughts and her throat suddenly burned as if scraped with sandpaper. She could think of pathetic jokes but no true answers for the real question. She winced under the weight of the question and the unyielding pressure for an answer from both herself and him.
"I-I don't know, not really." She winced at the sudden pressure of the gun on her forehead. 'Why did I choose honesty now?' she thought dryly before peeking one eye open and meeting Sasuke's stare.
"Liar. Pathetic liar. Coward. Idiot." The disdain in his voice cut more deeply than she had imagined it would on those nights, when she had played the hypothetical confrontations like broken reels in her mind.
She didn't defend herself but couldn't muster the humility to look at the floor. And so they stood silently in the hallway, each quelling the other. Finally, Emiko dared clear her throat.
"W-why haven't you killed me yet?" It was a question heavy with hope, fear and confusion, a pure reflection of the tumult in her eyes.
"I have no reason to kill you," he replied blankly. He managed to notice the millimeter her mouth opened in surprise and granted her a few minutes to comprehend the words. When he decided she had enough time he continued in a biting tone. "I could though. Give me a reason."
She licked her lips, as though preparing herself for the words that were to slide out. "Because he'll want me dead?" Time never suspended, things never went in slow motion, every moment was painfully sharp and distinct. The muzzle grazed down her forehead and off her nose, but it might as well have been a string of acid. She couldn't help but gasp as air flooded her lungs. Seconds later she opened her eyes to find the hallway empty.
Author Note: Constructive criticism is always appreciate. I am working on original work so I would love critique on what I could improve on and what are things that struck you about the work. Thanks! Feel free to message me. Everyone's been great. Thank you again.