A/N: Graduate pictures are in! Yes, with the hat and the dress thingy, and the flower bouquet and the diploma prop. Oh God, I'm old. Anyway, here's the second chapter. Strangely enough, I feel a bit like McFly right now. You know, with their new album and all, and their own label. I'm doing this story on my own, with my own style, my own time for updates and my own opinion on the cheesy bits. You have no idea how great that feels, not owing anything to anyone.
Anyway, enjoy.
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The Photograph
by Queen of Pascalities
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Written while listening to:
P.O.V. – McFly
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"Good morning, Sakura."
Said girl's eyes shot up from the table she had fixating for the past fifteen minutes. She hadn't been thinking about the piece of furniture, though. Her thoughts had been directed to the previous night's events. She didn't know if she should be happy to have found somewhere to stay or embarrassed because she had fainted in front of someone she didn't know and had forced them to take her in.
Sure, the bed she had slept in had felt like a cloud and the flannel pyjamas she was wearing only added to the effect, but she couldn't help but feel bad. Plus, she had a strange tugging in her stomach and an uneasy sensation in her throat. She had probably gotten sick from the cold, though she had never heard of such symptoms for either pneumonia, laryngitis or tuberculosis, or even just a cold.
The woman that had been with her for a few moment the previous night had just come in the dinning room where Sakura was sitting (after searching for ten minutes). To add to her guilt, she found she couldn't remember the woman's name. She opened her mouth to at least say a polite "Hi", but as soon as her lips were parted, she had a hiccup and the uneasiness in her throat got stronger. She instantly closed her mouth and decided to stay silent until the bad feeling was gone.
Mikoto chuckled and the girl flushed. She walked past the table and went to a door behind Sakura. She called out for her cook and asked him to prepare breakfast for two, then came back to sit down in front of the little girl.
"How was your night?" she asked, smiling.
Sakura, forgetting her throat for a second, opened her mouth to answer, but another hiccup escaped her lips, followed by a small burp. She quickly closed her mouth again and covered her lips with her two hands. Mikoto chuckled again.
"I guess you can't talk, can you? I'll only ask you yes and no questions and you can answer by signs."
Sakura nodded.
"Okay. Did you sleep well?" A nod.
"Are you hungry?" Another nod.
"Do you feel like you got sick?" Another nod.
"Do you need tissues?" Sakura shook her head. No, actually, her nose wasn't running. Weird.
"How old are you?" Sakura stared.
"Show me with your fingers."
Sakura stuck a finger in the air, then raised two others.
"Thirteen?" Sakura nodded.
"I have a son who's fourteen. Maybe you'll get along." Sakura shrugged.
"Do you have a place to go back to?"
Sakura hesitated. Should she tell that woman, as nice and caring she seemed to be? She thought back to what had happened a little less than twenty-four hours ago and tears came to her eyes. She wiped them with her sleeve before they could fall down her cheeks and shook her head.
"You don't?" Sakura shook her head again, wiping her tears away again.
Mikoto got up and hurried to sit down in the chair right next to Sakura's, then brought her into a hug.
"Oh, my poor child, I'm so sorry," she said, worry very clear in her voice.
Just at that moment, Fugaku entered the dinning room. As soon as he saw what was happening, he stopped dead in his tracks and sent the two females a look full of questions. Mikoto raised her head, acknowledging her husband's presence and whispered to Sakura:
"I'll be right back."
Then, she got up and left the room with her husband. Sakura wiped another set of tears and straightened herself. She had to be strong. She couldn't just barge in into this family's life and complain on their shoulders. She had to show them she was a grown up, even if she was only thirteen years old.
The cook entered the room with two very large plates in his hands. He put one of them in front of Sakura and looked around the room.
"Excuse me, dear, where is Mikoto-san?" Sakura shrugged. She didn't really know.
The cook set the other plate on the table and let the dinning room. Sakura looked down at her plate and her eyes went as wide as saucers. There were at least ten different breakfasts in the same dish! There were toasts, pancakes, waffles, three kinds of eggs, sausages, a small bowl of porridge, an equally small bowl of cream of wheat, tons of fruits, bacon and potato cubes, only in her plate! Plus, the smell was incredible.
Not really certain of where to start, Sakura picked up a slice of bacon, which she hadn't had in years. She shoved it all in her mouth, eager to have the salty taste on her tongue.
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"She told me she had nowhere to go, Fugaku. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there's another Haruno Sakura."
Mikoto was standing right outside the dinning room, facing her husband. Fugaku had his arms crossed, a pensive look on his face.
"I don't think it's another Sakura," he said. "Just think about it, how many chances do we actually have of meeting another pink-haired thirteen-year-old girl named Haruno Sakura?"
"I know, but if she's the Sakura, why doesn't she have anywhere to go? It doesn't make sense. We should have been told, somehow. I'm sure she would have wanted Sakura here."
Fugaku stayed silent. He didn't understand more than his wife did. He knew the girl should have been with them from the moment she became homeless. It didn't make sense that they hadn't had any news of her for ages and then she comes knocking at their door on the edge of hypothermia.
Fugaku's train of thoughts was interrupted by a gagging sound coming from the dinning room. He ran into the room, following his wife who had been quicker. They saw Sakura, bent downward, hidden by the table cloth. The noise, which was obviously coming from her, got worse. She was vomiting. Mikoto hurried to her side, sparing only a glance to the floor, then helped Sakura up and brought her to the staircase. They disappeared in the stairs, leaving a truly dumbfounded Fugaku. The cook came running in, screaming he had heard someone throw up. Fugaku told him to get one of his assistants to clean the floor, then went up the stairs himself.
He heard his wife's voice coming from his youngest son's room and entered. Mikoto was helping Sakura in the bed, whispering words of encouragement. He approached them, but stopped when Mikoto held up a hand, motioning him not to move. When Sakura was safely under the covers, both adults sat on either sides of the bed.
Sakura's face was pale and her lips were white. She looked exhausted. She opened her mouth to say something, but Mikoto shushed her.
"No, I-… I have to tell you something." She said stubbornly. "I must tell you."
"What is it, dear? You can tell us anything," Mikoto said, trying to sound calm. Fugaku knew better, but he was himself too nervous to laugh about it.
Sakura hesitated a little. What she had to say was probably the toughest thing she'd ever have to tell. She bit her lip, choosing her words in her mind.
"Um… The reason why I can't go back to the orphanage is that-…"
"Orphanage?" Mikoto voiced Fugaku's mental question.
"Er… Yes, the-… The orphanage up the hill. I've been there since I'm a baby."
Mikoto's mind went blank for a moment. She had been living in an orphanage? Since she was a baby? Why hadn't she been delivered to the Uchihas? That was where she belonged, if anything. She had promised.
"Anyway, as I was saying, the reason why I left the orphanage is because, well…" Sakura hesitated again. "Er… It-… It's because I-… I'm…"
She bit her lip again, then reached out for Mikoto's hand. She brought it to her stomach, right over the small bump that had been growing there for the past few weeks. Sakura's eyes welled up when Mikoto's went wide with shock.
"I'm pregnant."
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A/N: Teehee! Now you know a bit more. Yes, she's thirteen, yes, she's pregnant and yes, it can happen. As soon as we hit puberty, we can have children. Anyway, I hope it's good enough for you. I don't know when I'll be able to update, with my crazy schedule and all, but since I absolutely love this plot, I'll do my best.
Queen of Pascalities