Somebody
by. Misery's-Toll
Chapter 27: Sakura's Interlude
So this is your fate, to drive 'til you find that one desert's dust is another man's sky and the clouds he admires are crushed by your tires, as you wish you could share a similar desire, to see some small light in the distance (a horizon held in place by a faith you thought was lost) to lead you away.
- "Some Curious and Beautiful Maps" by The Silent Type
Somebody - 1. Noun. A person unknown or uncertain; a person indeterminate; some person.
2. Noun. A person of consideration or importance.
She grew up funny.
She was born into a family where the parents loved each other more than her. She loved her parents too much. Maybe sometimes it hurt a little, when the light was off and she didn't have anyone to go to when the nightmares were bad and her mother and father were enjoying a glass of wine and maybe each other a little too much.
But she was schizophrenic. And maybe that was her downfall. Hallucinations and hearing voices that weren't real. And no parent wants to find that their child was born less than perfect.
Maybe unconditional love is a little too hard to find.
One.
Sakura is four.
She's like a little mirror of mommy, only with eyes too huge and a forehead too large. But daddy looks at her kindly and calls her an angel because she is her mommy's daughter, so of course she will grow into her forehead and glassy eyes that are maybe a little too green.
She dances around the room in gauzy dresses mommy sews for her, standing on daddy's feet, her tiny pale hands engulfed by his huge tan ones, and she thinks he must be a superhero when he lifts her into the air and sets her on his shoulders, because she's his little girl and he'd do anything for her.
Two.
Sakura is five.
It's her first day of school, and she wears another gauzy white dress mommy made for her because that's what angels wear, and she has her slender pale fingers wrapped firmly around her brand-new lunchbox, because she doesn't want to lose it.
She enters the classroom with a huge smile on her face; she wants to make many new friends to make mommy and daddy proud. During recess the students make fun of her and tell her that her forehead is big and ugly, and that her pink hair makes her a freak. They throw mud at her dress, and she wonders why anyone would do that to an angel.
She walks home to an empty house where she makes her own lunch and her own dinner until mommy and daddy come home to her again and they dance and laugh together in their little house on the beach.
Three.
Sakura is seven.
She is still ignored at school, but she's friends with Ino, the little girl at mommy's work, and that's enough.
Sakura doesn't get to dance on daddy's feet, but she gets to sit and watch him pay bills and shine his shoes, and even though that's not as much fun, she likes spending time with daddy so she doesn't complain.
Mommy is gone until late at night, working at the Yamanaka house, and Sakura often doesn't see her because she leaves early and returns late. But sometimes Sakura finds a newly-made dress on her bed, and a card that says 'Angel.'
Four.
Sakura is eight.
Sakura's forehead and eyes are still big, and she's lanky and ropey – nothing like mommy. Her skin isn't just pale, it's nearly translucent, and she has hollow circles under her eyes that never seem to go away. Her daddy doesn't kiss her on the forehead anymore, or pick her up and spin her around so she can fly, or call her angel. He doesn't let her sit and watch him pay bills or shine his shoes anymore because he's a busy man and she distracts him.
Sakura's mommy doesn't make her dresses anymore because she's ruined so many and she thinks that the little girl doesn't want them because she doesn't know about the torment the little girl goes through. So Sakura makes her own breakfast and lunch and dinner, and wears clothes that don't match anything that mommy buys her from the Goodwill Foundation, and they don't come with little notes that say 'Angel' on them, and Sakura wonders what she did wrong.
She hears voices sometimes. Sometimes they're angry screams or cackles, like the teasing she gets from the kids at school, but sometimes they're nice rings of laughter, like whenever she and Ino play ring-around-the-rosie, but they scare her because sometimes there's nobody in the room.
Later into the year the voice becomes more defined and it begins to take on the sound of her own voice. She listens to it sometimes and does what it says, and she gets in trouble for it, and the kisses and laughter of mommy and daddy begin to turn into disappointed stares, but they mostly just ignore her and live their lives.
Five.
Sakura is ten.
She hasn't flown in a terribly long time and she hasn't been gathered into her father's arms or been kissed goodnight, or received a gauzy dress, and sometimes she stares at the area in front of where the television used to be, where her father used to let her dance on his feet, and she thinks that maybe she wasn't the angel – she never was. Her father was an angel-in-training, and he helped her fly a little bit before he got tired and decided to do something else, like drink wine and martinis and make Sakura's mother laugh that tiny-bell laugh that Sakura could never mimic correctly.
The voice tells Sakura to find an angel that could fly her away to where someone might love her the way she should be loved, and so she searches like the good little girl she's always been, and she draws doodles of angels in her notebooks and pictures of herself in the white dresses she misses. And the only person who still treats her like maybe she's worth something is Ino, and sometimes the two girls stay up late on the phone, talking about angelsangelsangels and while the blonde little girl is getting more and more fragile, Sakura thinks she's still beautiful, and maybe if anyone has a chance of becoming a mythical creature, it must be her.
Six.
Sakura is thirteen. Ino is better now, strong and healthy, and Sakura thinks that maybe they can be friends again. But when the girl comes back from the hospital, she's different. She's calm and beautiful on the outside, but on the inside there's a dark, suppressed anger and seems like it will never go away.
And then Ino's father dies and she comes to live with Sakura. And the smiles on her face turn into twisted smirks. And whatever was left of Sakura's fairy-tale life dies, and instead of a mother and father that almost love her, and at least one good friend that would nevernevernever turn her back on her, she's got a mother and father that wonder what happened to their beautiful rosebud-daughter, and a friend that blames her for everything that went wrong in life. And maybe there's not a chance that Ino could become that angel, but the voice in her head tells her that there's someone out there. And it tells her that she needs to fly, fly away and she's determined to do anything she can to ensure that her fairy-tale life will come back together, even though everything's falling apart around her.
---
-=Sasuke=-
It's cold, Sasuke thinks, as the anesthesia goes to work and a fog settles thickly over his mind. He wishes things could have turned out differently. That he had never been born with wings to begin with, that Sakura hadn't had such a horrible upbringing, that Sakura didn't need him to be the angel-savior he never could be, and that he didn't have to go and hit her and screw up everything...
It's cold.
He thinks maybe he deserves the scalpel that will soon be stabbed into his back.
-=Sakura=-
Another week passes before Sakura gets a phone call.
"Sakura?"
"...Sasuke? Is that really you?"
"Yes...Will you meet me at the park behind my house?"
"You're back?"
"Yes. And...just...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never showed them to you."
The line clicks dead.
---
It's entirely
too hot.
The sun rays remind me of before.
That longing to meet a perfect angel
and daydreams of dancing up on beams of light, but
I feel that something is horribly wrong
Something is...
in the pit of my stomach.
And when I reach the park
and see Sasuke's lone form
thin, in a T-shirt and pants,
beneath a basketball hoop,
I realize what's wrong.
I have never once seen Sasuke
without something bulky on
to cover his wings...
but now, there's nothing to cover.
-=Sasuke=-
"Can I..." she whispers, brokenly, "See them?"
His chest feels tight and too small for his heart that's too large and beating too hard. His back burns and the stitches itch and he's sure its less than a beautiful sight, but somehow he feels that he needs to show her (Can you see what I've done? What a horrible mistake I've made?).
He pulls his shirt over his head, his gauze-wrapped body instantly warmed by the sun. He moves to pull away the wrapping, but Sakura puts her hand over his.
"Can I do it?" she asks softly, her eyes glassy, her cheeks and nose burning red with the effort to hold back her tears.
(WILL YOU FLY ME AWAY FROM HERE)
He sucks in a breath and nods.
Her touch is gentle but somehow it hurts. The feeling that she will see them. That she will know what he's done.
(YOU'RE THE EPITOME OF AN ANGEL)
Standing behind him, a stray sob escapes her when she finally removes the last of the bandages. She touches the skin around the wounds with cool fingers that are pleasant to his back but make his chest feel even tighter. She removes her hand and her crying ceases to be audible. (Hate me.) He thinks she must be disgusted. Thinks he should probably leave.
(ARE YOU ASHAMED TO BE SEEN WITH ME THE WAY I AM)
She presses her cheek to the base of his neck, and puts her arms around him, her hands on his chest. No other part of her body touches him, and his back remains unbothered. When he takes her hands, they're swallowed by his.
"I would have flown you away. If I could have."
Sakura removes her hands from his and turns him to face her. She puts her hand behind his neck and stands on her toes and leans in, her lips an inch away from his, but she's looking in his eyes so intently that that thought is very far away.
"I love you," Sakura whispers, and presses her lips to his.
The world is bright and blinding even behind his closed eyelids, and his back burns white-hot without pain as new, larger, fuller wings sprout. He feels full and complete and-
(I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I-)
And then he has to let go as the ray of bright shining down upon him brings him up into the air, and Sakura watches with still tear-filled eyes as he flies away with full wings of blessedness to the heavens.
A gust of wind blows through, completely unaffecting him, but Sakura's hair and clothes blow around her and her mouth is moving and she's saying-
(I'M OK I'M OK I'M OK)
-=Sakura=-
"Poor Girl."
The funeral is much more crowded than Sakura thinks Sasuke ever could have possibly imagined. That quiet kept-to-himself boy with no family has a crowd of so many people, it sends little giggles of gratitude bubbling up from her gut. She had expected Itachi and Naruto, and she knew wherever Naruto would go, Hinata would follow. But with Hinata came Shino and Kiba and Neji. And of course, where Neji went, so did Tenten, and Tenten always brings a party with her, including Lee and Temari. And Shikamaru being Temari's old friend, he followed, bringing his entire lunch table (they were wanted, whether they felt anything for Sasuke or not). And surprisingly enough, Ino attended, even shedding a tear or two. But not only did many of the students come, but so did the teachers, Kakashi and Tsunade and Kabuto and Kurenai coming to pay their respects.
"Sakura, I'm so, so sorry. I know you loved him-"
The apologies and condolences wash over the little pink-haired girl. She smiles and giggles like a child with a secret.
Because you know the truth. He's not dead, he's just...
"It's a shame something like this had to happen. You never expect it so close to home."
"Yes. You always hear about the complications of surgeries, but it's always such a wake-up call when it happens to someone you know."
...free.
It's Naruto who empties the hand-painted urn over the water. It's on the beach that her small group of friends had thrown her an after-party for her mother's funeral.
Another giggle escapes from her throat.
---
A week passes.
Sakura's tired of being so incapable of figuring out what to do with herself. She wanders aimlessly. She's tired of people telling her how sorry they are because there's nothing to be sorry about. Sasuke is free.
And you aren't.
She thinks she should be surprised that no one even notices when she finds herself wandering through the hospital. It's when she ends up on the roof and she stares out over the hand-railing that she feels like her chest is being ripped open. So she falls to her knees and cries.
You knew this from the beginning-
"Sasuke!" she wails, sobs ripping from her body with staggering force.
-no angel sticks around forever.
---
Seven.
Sakura is fifteen.
She gets expelled from school due to a blind appreciation towards Ino, her supposed best friend, sister. She goes to a new school where lots of bad things happen, but a lot of good things happen too, and she makes a lot of friends and she's sososo unbelievably happy like she never has been before, and she meets a real AngelAngelAngel, just like she's always dreamed of named Sasuke. Her mother dies and maybe takes a little bit of Sakura with her, but maybe Sasuke gives a little bit back. Ino gets pregnant and Sakura's blind love for her sister maybe fades a little bit when she gets a taste of real love, but Ino's blind hate for Sakura simmers as well.
And maybe Sakura falls a little too hard for her angel-savior, and when she kisses him, his small feathery wings become blessed by heaven and they grow bigger and stronger and he flies away without her, and she can do nothing but smile and hope that maybe, just maybe Everything Will Be Okay.
Eight.
Sakura is sixteen.
She starts out a good girl, a sad girl, and everything in between, trying to help Ino raise her baby and trying not to think about him, but not wanting to forget, never wanting to forget.
She comes home to a house of wails and cries of a tiny baby with tiny hands and a tiny face and oh-so-wide icy blue eyes that match her too-young mother's. Every once in a while, Sakura's father wakes up from one of his drunken stupors and looks at the little baby. And when he looks at her it is Sakura he sees, so he will stroke his blood-daughter's cheek with a far-off look in his eye before he will go back to the sofa where he will drown himself in booze and trash-TV because he can't remember how to love the daughter that once danced on his feet in their beach house so long ago.
Sakura stays out late, often going nowhere. She draws pictures, lots and lots of pictures of a boy she doesn't think was real (a boy she loves so much!) She doesn't hear that distinct voice in her head anymore; instead she gets little whispers of insanity and of death and demons and how there's no such thing as angels.
Nine.
Sakura is seventeen. She can't remember things very well, can't remember when she was a good girl, a sad girl, and everything in between. She spends her late nights out at clubs, dancing in gauzy white dresses that seem vaguely familiar, getting drunk and forgetting things and maybe people that were once very important to her.
She moves out of her father's house, unable to take the baby's wails, her sister's never-again love, and her father's slow deterioration. The pictures she paints and draws are more and more abstract as her memories and thoughts are as well, and she knows she's spiraling downwards, but somehow she can't make herself do anything to stop it.
And maybe now and then she'd just go out and kiss. Because maybe if she kissed hard enough, kissed the right person, he'd turn into a boy with startling black eyes and pretty black hair, and this time when his wings would sprout, he would take her with him instead of leaving her behind in this world of disappointment and despair and little broken fairy tales she thought she could fix.
Ten.
Sakura is eighteen. She returns to school and takes her senior year with students she doesn't know, as all of her friends have graduated already. That doesn't bother her though because time has passed and by now she's sure she must be as vague to them in memory as they are to her.
She's not completely weaned off alcohol, but she has a job now and will only drink herself silly on the nights she doesn't have to work the next day.
She waits tables at a small diner. Only once does someone she knows enter the diner. It's a young man with hair the color of fine wine and the kanji symbol for 'love' tattooed on his forehead. Neither of these things stand out as much to her as the color of his eyes do. A brilliant shade of aquamarine that makes her want to claw at her own eyes and nose and mouth and tear away her face so she is no longer recognizable. A different waitress gets his table. Sakura never sees him again.
Eleven.
Sakura is twenty.
Ino drops by her apartment, a four year-old girl with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes gripping her hand. The woman hands her an envelope.
"It's got your name on it. I got one too. I figured this was the one piece of mail worth bringing you."
When they've gone, Sakura rips open the envelope. It's a wedding invitation. For Hinata and Naruto.
At the wedding, Hinata's hair is long, in curls. Her dress trails out behind her like liquid satin. Naruto's grin is still cheeky and boyish. And very happy.
Sakura stands outside the building rented for the after-party in a gauzy dress, watching couples dance in circles through wide, clear windows, before finally turning around to leave.
Twelve.
Sakura is twenty-four.
She flies a lot. On airplanes. She stares out the window at the clouds. And finds herself wondering where the angels are.
Sasuke, are you there? I'm here.
Thirteen.
Sakura is twenty-six. She meets a man. She doesn't love him, but he lets her live in his house and he cares for her, slung over his arm as the trophy-wife she pretends to be, behaving as a wealthy entrepreneur's wife should when guests come over for dinner and for in-house meetings.
They get married that fall.
Fourteen.
Sakura is thirty.
She has a son.
He's born with wings.
Angel. Angel. Angel.
.
.
.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or "Some Curious and Beautiful Maps" by The Silent Type. Those belong to their respective owners and stuff.
A/N: I'm sure that many of you will not like this ending, seeing as I got like 3223498 requests for a happy ending, but my beta and I both agreed in the end that that was just not likely and would not have fit the flow of the story. I wanted to make this end in a way to where sequels were not open for discussion. I don't know if anyone would want to undertake the task of writing an alternate ending, but if per chance, any of you would like to borrow my interpretations of the characters and make an omake or an alternate ending, or maybe fanart of any sort, I would be really really honored. But anyway. Thank you all so much for sticking with me the whole way, or even if you are a new reader, for taking the time to look through this. I appreciate it more than you know.
There will be an extras chapter, most likely. It'll pretty much just be the unedited stuff that didn't make the cut in the final version of the story. Deleted scenes, I guess.
But anyway, thank you all for a most enjoyable ride. I hope you ALL will review to tell me what your lasting impressions are, and perhaps a few of you will check out my fictionpress, the link to which is on my profile. I love you all so much!
Many thanks to my beta, Ira Feye, who has been the most wonderful beta I could ever ask for!
Peace out.
Edit: I fixed some formatting errors. Hopefully that will make it easier to read. ;)
-MT