It wasn't until someone rapped on the door, that reality hit like a bucket of ice water. I was in Sai's apartment. His hand was wrapped tightly in my hand—or my hand was in his hand, I couldn't tell. But it was the fact that I was touching him. That I still wanted to touch him, which brought me back to my normal self and out of my dream-like daze.

I gasped, the shock hitting me so hard. "This," I said, pointing to us and our hands. "This never happened. We…this isn't right. I shouldn't be here and…and you shouldn't have let me in." Sai was his expressionless self. Why did he have to be so different? When I told him something, it felt more like I was reassuring myself. It was selfish of me to use him like this and then throw him away. But it was wrong.

"I'm…not here. Go answer the door, act like nothing happened. When the person leaves, I'll be gone." Sai stared at me a long moment. I wondered if he could hear the double meaning in my words. This strange side of me was peaking out and after I got the chance to compose myself, it would be locked deep, down inside of me. No one would be able to retrieve it.

Sai broke my gaze and went to the door. I slipped into a back room. I could hear another voice talking to him, complaining that he had taken so long to answer. I glanced around the room and noticed that I had entered his bedroom. Plain—everything was white like a hospital. It looked like an unused house, like it wasn't lived in.

There were no personal belongings, no colors, and nothing that could say who this room belonged to. I made my way to the one large window, easily unlocking it and lifting the glass frame. The room was unadorned. It was expressionless. Just like Sai, I realized.

I pushed myself out the window, standing carefully on the thin ledge outside of it. He was in an apartment building, on at least the third floor. I wasn't stupid, there's no way I would survive if I jumped from this distance. No amount of ninja training or chakra could stop my legs from shattering at the impact.

I shuttered and applied chakra to my hands as best as I could. I was never one of the top students, so it didn't surprised me when sweat formed on my brow. "This is it," I whispered before dropping myself and grabbing onto the window pane that I had just been standing on.

"Come on, Manami. You got this." I took a deep breath, dropping again. This time I landed on the toes of my feet, my arms wailing crazily behind me to gain my balance. I pushed my palms to the wall. The chakra helped me gain my balance and I only paused for a breath before dropping again, my arms latching on. Another breath and another drop—I was on the first floor.

It was much easier getting my balance the second jump down and I jumped to the ground, it being close enough that I wouldn't get any permanent damage to anything. I then proceeded to sprint to my house. The rush of adrenaline made me feel good—really good. I felt like I got to my house too soon. I stretched my muscles, feeling like they had never appeared so toned and developed.

I entered the house happier than I had ever before. I kicked my shoes off inside the door and made my way through the house. My mom was in the kitchen with my sister at the table. My mood dropped, crashing farther down than the ground beneath me feet. "Six feet under," I mumbled as I ignored my sister totally, opting instead to search through the refrigerator. How long has it been since I've eaten?

I grabbed the carton of milk, opening it and pushing it to my lips. The cold liquid was thick and felt wonderful against my throat. I closed it and put it back; surprised my mom hadn't reprimanded me for it. I looked over at her and saw her smiling. She was talking animatedly with my sister at the table. "Why is she even here?" I muttered under my breath. I then pushed my shoulder up in a show of grumpiness and slammed the door shut for extra effect.

It was then that my mother finally noticed my presence. "Manami! How was your day? Where were you?" A gasp, "What happened to your hands? Why are they wrapped up?" I pulled my long sleeves over my hands, hiding them from her sight.

"Nothing, just training," I muttered before stalking out of the room. I noticed that by ignoring my sister's presence I was also ignoring my mother, but it was far better than the alternative. At least, that's what I told myself.

As I was on my way to my room, still feeling sorry for myself, my father stopped me. "What happened to your knuckles?" he asked tenderly, his hands on mine as he rubbed his thumb on the wounds. I yearned so much for the attention he was suddenly providing me with. He really wanted to know. He really cared. But a picture of my sister sitting at the kitchen table shot up in my mind, and I pushed past him.

"Training," I responded coolly, continuing my trek to my room. He didn't try any further communication and instead made his way down the hall. To the kitchen, I thought sourly.

I shut my door and plopped myself down on my bed. I was tired. My sleep had been disturbed last night and my body was missing the energy I usually had. I laid my hand over my eyes, shielding them from the bright light they weren't accustomed to sleeping in.

I wanted sleep. I needed sleep. My thoughts were too busy running around in my head, though. Why had Sai let me in both times? He was a trained ninja who definitely was not close to me, so why hadn't he refused to let me in? Why had he treated my self inflicted wounds and smiled that huge smile? The one that made hurt and ache, happy and sad, and most of all, made me forget myself.

It made me forget everything. I forgot all of my self given boundaries, all of my caution. I couldn't remember why I hated him. I couldn't imagine why I hadn't wanted to touch him—to feel the fire run over my skin. It made me feel scared—vulnerable. And that was something that I just couldn't accept. I was never the strongest; never the smartest, never the best, but I was always in control. I decided what they knew and what they didn't know and information is everything.

That is why I refused to let this strange feeling show.

I awoke that morning and prepared myself for the day. Everything was going to be okay because I was in control. No one could hurt me without my approval. I walked through the kitchen without shooting my sister or mother a second glance. I wasn't going to let myself stay focused on the past. I wasn't going to mope around in my own missery like I once did. No, I wasn't going to let my mind wander back to when my sister and I were best friends, when we only had each other.

"Manami," my mother said as she reached for my arm. I quickly jerked it away.

"Don't touch me with the same hands that have comforted traitors," I hissed, my eyes catching those of my sister. Hers were hard and cold, distant in the sense that she acted like she didn't understand what my words meant.

"How can you-!"

"No, mom. It's alright," Lidia said as she stood up from the table to stand in front of me. Our height was almost equal, my head only inches above my sisters. It was funny how I was the taller one, yet she was the more capable one. My sister was strong and proportional, while I was tall and nearly clumsy.

My eyes glared at my sister while hers were consumed with hate and loathing. "Do you hate me, Chishio?"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you hate that you'll never compare to me?" She went on as if I hadn't interupted. She caught my eyes narrowing. "Or do you hate that you're so similiar to me? You hate how we have the same color hair and eyes, and you hate how the same blood runs through our veins. You hate being associated with a traitor. Well, isn't that what you wanted, sis? To be like me?" Her words were bitter. I felt my arms shaking at my sides. My teeth were grinding toghether, my face contorted in a mixture of rage and apathy.

"I'm nothing like you." Lidia laughed mockingly.

"You must hate that he chose me. Tell me, would you have followed him if he chose you?"

"Of course not!"

"That's why he chose me. That's what seperates us. You'll never be on my level because you're insecure. You hate yourself. You're weak and you don't trust others. Hell, there's not a soul on this planet that you would trust with your life!"

That's because I trusted you once, I stopped myself from saying. I trusted you with everything, and you cast me away like something that had lost its usefullness.

"You're going to die alone, Chishio. Mom and dad won't even be there for you."

"Lidia!" My mother chastised.

"Shut up, mother!" At the sound of my sister's voice, my mom ran from the room. I watched her leave, wondering if she really would leave me in the end. Lidia fisted my shirt in her hands, pulling me closer to her by my collar.

"You want to know why they left, Chishio?" She whispered into my ear. My body went stiff in her hold. A blond haired couple with bright red eyes flashed through my vision. A man holding a woman in a tender embrace stared at me, their eyes warm and inviting. My parents. My real parents. "They left because of you."

I dropped to the floor when she released me. My breaths came in and out like a rushing tidle wave. I covered my face from the world, from the shame. The tears fell down my face without my consent. I could hide my pain from the world, but I couldn't stop the ache in my chest. But what else was there for me to do? I'd go on with my life, acting like nothing happened. Sometimes when I was happy, maybe I'd be able to actually feel happy. But I'd never show the world how I really felt. I'd never let anyone see under my mask of fake happiness. I'd never let anyone get to know the real me, because then...then they'd have the power to break me.

I pealed myself off the floor hours later. My parents had never come in to help me, never come in to comfort me. I dried my eyes and picked my heart up off of the floor. Walking down the hallway, I stopped when I caught my reflection in a mirror. I paused, fixing my hair and pinching some color into my cheeks. My emotional mask went on right in front of my face. The reflection went from a scared, broken little girl to that of a confident, happy adult.

I walked the rest of the way to my room with courage I didn't posess. I threw open the bag I kept for long distance missions, thrusting various articles of clothing into it. I grabbed only the necessities. Soap, clothes, shoes, and my weapons. When I was done, I noticed that the room looked the same as it did before-plain. Empty like it wasn't lived in. Empty and void of any trace of emotion. I pulled the bag onto my back, the only sign that I had ever lived and grown in that room was my smell that still lingered on the bed sheets. But that too wasn't personal, because it was merely the scent of my chosen shampoo. An artifical scent, for an artificial life.

I left the house, letting myself have one last glance before leaving it forever. I walked down the streets of Konoha with a forced scense of calm. I walked with purpose, a small smile on my face. A smile that conflicted with the numbness I felt inside.

I passed a worried Shikamaru on the street. He immediately pulled me aside and demanded to know what was wrong. "Nothing," I told him. I was simply on my way to Ino's, to my best friend's house, for a sleepover. He believed me, and that hurt. It hurt that he couldn't tell that I was faking it. It hurt that he couldn't tell that I was breaking on the inside. That I was crying and stomping my feet, pounding on the nearest wall, begging for him to notice the pain under the smile.

"I'll take you there," he offered, grabbing my hand and leading me to the blond's house. It hurt that all I wanted was for him to squeeze my hand in his, to give me the comfort, the knowledge that he was there for me.

"Thanks, Shikamaru!"

It hurt that as he kissed me good-bye, I pictured someone just a bit taller, just a bit paler, and just a bit more emotionless.

"Bye," he said with a hand lazily placed on his hips, the other scratching the back of his head.

It hurt that even though he was perfect, I'd never be able to trust him with my heart.