Saturday's update wasn't enough to satisfy me. I'm in a writing mood, hence this second update.
Happy Independence Day to all you folks in India
Update : just cleaning up some mistakes!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Warehouse 4B, Mission District, San Francisco, Time- 2:38
A loud crash, a woman's scream, the sound of breaking glass followed by muffled shouts was what led to Sakura and Neji splitting up to find the source of the noise as soon as possible.
Sakura reached an eastern staircase- a not so sturdy wooden structure, coated with layers of dust and cobwebs- which looked like it could capsize at any minute. Hesitantly, she climbed her way to the top only to have her stomach lurch as she took in the sight of a glass cabinet chalk full of more dolls- smaller dolls- with hideous still spooked her- though she should have been use to seeing them by that point.
Something wet abruptly dropped onto her shoulder.
She jumped at the contact as another drop fell on her arm.
Looking up to find the source, she was suddenly glad she had skipped dinner, for if not she would have had trouble holding its contents.
Another drop of blood fell on her forehead.
Pinned to the ceiling above her was a dead squirrel- dismembered and cut open maliciously. The blood was cold on her forehead.
Suffice to say she moved away from there as quickly as possible.
As she rounded a corner, she was alarmed by a new sound. This time, a slow, dull thud, slowly becoming louder.
And accompanying it was the sound of scraping metal.
The sound and all its possible sources ran through her head, her pace quickening all the while as she drew her gun, releasing the safety catch and keeping it at the ready.
The metallic scraping was irregular, and whatever the source was it was moving. Coming closer. Towards her.
She felt shivers run down her spine as her pupils dilated.
This place really had done a number on her- she was actually feeling a little afraid now as she heard the approaching disturbance.
Her back against the wall, she waited for the source of the noise to pass the corner she had just rounded, and as it did, she held her gun to its head.
Her head. She realised it was was a woman.
And as Sakura recognised her, she suddenly felt very childish for letting herself be spooked.
"I really don't wish to die today Sakura. Especially not by your hand. Besides, I don't think a bullet to the head would be a particularly nice experience." Arisa said.
Standing next to her was Hinata, and between the two of them they were dragging a red haired unconscious woman between them, and the woman's left leg seemed to be encased in a doll- a metal one which wrapped around her limb, and was trailing along the floor- which was the source of the scraping.
"There aren't any children here." Hinata said softly, "At least not where we searched. But this woman claims to be the owner of this house- and she was angry when we found her. Started swearing a lot and tried to attack Arisa with shards of broken glass."
"What happened?" Sakura asked. Although, she could already tell the answer.
"I punched her in the forehead. She dropped unconscious." Arisa said.
Sakura sighed, shaking her head.
Warehouse 4B, San Francisco , Mission District, Time- 3:04 am
Tayuya Fue
That was who the woman turned out to be.
An incredibly foul mouthed uncooperative doll maker.
Or as she called herself, "Dr Coppelius".
And not that it mattered, but she was adamant about saying the dolls were 'coppelia' - not 'dolls'.
Their communications liaisons tried to talk to her- diplomatically- to no avail.
" I don't fucking care if you assholes are FBI, I demand to know what the fuck you're doing in my house- in the fucking middle of the night! I demand to see your Warrant!"
Sakura wasn't directly involved in questioning her- she was far too perplexed at why their search turned up a blank. She was positive that Kabuto hadn't lied to her- she had at least that much experience in her field- but then why, when they turned up to search the location he mentioned, did they find nothing but a loud mouthed insolent woman who she could hear shouting in the background.
And to add icing to the cake- they had abandoned protocol and acted without any warrants of sorts. There would be severe repercussions by the time their Higher ups found out about that.
"No I fucking do not know about any children! Do I look like a motherfucking mother to you?!"
Residence of Sasuke's Uchiha, Time- 5:37 am
He didn't want it.
He really didn't want it.
He had already come to the conclusion that it would benefit no one if he continued doing whatever it as he was doing with Sakura.
Therefore by definition, he did not want to be continuously brought into dreams involving her.
But that didn't mean that he had any control over it.
Sasuke found himself in a dark room.
The same room, he realised, that he had found Sakura the last time.
In front of him was a large canvas- The cherry tree which Sakura had shown him before. The pinkette herself was nowhere to be seen.
He studied the painting in front of him.
It definitely was a masterpiece. The petals were soft, pale pink, delicately crafted with each brushstroke. The bark of its branches was blended with every shade of black-it spread over the canvas like a warm embrace, forming a netted canopy. The moss which covered its base was a dark earthy green- luscious and lively,primal and tender.
It was made for her.
Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He stepped back and watched in alarm as the canvas was engulfed in flames - a little at first, but then all at once. Flames licked over the surface of the painting, reducing it to ash.
He felt the heat surround him. Faster than he could blink, the entire house was ablaze.
He choked on the smoke, looking for an exit as smouldering wooden beams capsized.
It may have been a dream, but the heat didn't hurt any less.
Whoever said that you can't get hurt in a dream was a cruel, harsh liar.
He grunted in pain and his eyes watered from the smoke as flames fled over his right arm.
He had to get out of here. At this point, he would even overlook the fact that he was on a the second floor. He saw the first exit he could think of-a glass window- and jumped through it, shattering the glass.
His world shifted as he hit the ground- the impact itself didn't faze him, but the glass shards which embedded themselves in his newly burnt arm made him let loose a string of choice curses.
Looking back at the burning building behind him, he stumbled back in alarm as he saw that the house was no longer ablaze. In fact, it looked new. Far better than it had looked when he entered it for the first time. And definitely far better than the pile of ash it was supposed to have been.
He looked at the nameplate on he door- it had been too rusted for him to make out when he had first entered the house, but now it was shiny and crystal clear.
And as he met with renewed surprise, as he told himself it was just a dream and his mind was playing tricks on him, the name on the plate still remained unchanged.
It read Hatake. The same as his uncle's second name. The same as his mother's maiden name.
But what on earth was it doing on this secluded house? On a beach, in a scene conjured up by his subconscious?
The sound of approaching voices drew his attention.
He turned to look at the source.
And it was as though he was looking at a ghost.
In that moment, he truly hated whatever supernatural force deemed that he should be subject to that torture.
A woman with long dark hair cascading down her back. Emerald green eyes framed with long thick lashes. A motherly smile which graced her regal features.
The exact same as she had been all those years ago. Before they took her away.
His mother, Mikoto Uchiha.
The sight of her ignited a series of emotions within that he couldn't even begin to describe.
Needless to say, at the very least, all thoughts of the pain in his arm were immediately gone.
She wasn't alone. He noted a small boy next to her- possibly 13 or 14 years old, with dark red hair.
A younger version of Gaara Haruno, the man he now held captive in the basement layer of his enterprise.
He could not hear much of their conversation, but what was audible made no sense.
"Neither of you deserve any of this...could even go to school or college." He could only hear small snippets of what she said.
Gaara's reply was inaudible.
"Take care of yourself Gaara. Take care of your sister."
They continued inside the house, their conversation indiscernible.
He noticed that he was no longer a lone observer as a pink haired woman joined him, looking upon the same scene.
He didn't expect her to hold answers, but he asked nonetheless. "What is this?"
She didn't reply,the looked wistfully at the house, a shadow of pain in her viridian eyes.
Turning to look at him, her smile was replaced with a frown as she looked at his arm.
The small pout of her plush, red lips had him involuntarily wanting to capture them yet again .
"Look at what you did to yourself!" She chided, taking his arm in her hands. "You're just like a kid- can't leave you alone for a minute!" She said playfully.
Her hands enveloped themselves in a green glow as she ran them over his burns and removed the glass shards. The wounds closed to thin marks- almost invisible. All the pain vanished and he was left with a cool relaxing sensation come over him.
"There. Much better." She said, with an innocent smile.
And his world shifted once again as he woke up in his bed to a blaring alarm clock.