Cosmogony

Something doesn’t have to be rhythmic to invoke a sense of entanglement. Maybe it was nothing peripheral at first, but things connected, but didn’t meet to intersect, bound to go awry.

Haruno Sakura met her first soulmate at five with a scuffed knee and the tips of her hair burnt and already fought off the hold of the pins, which her mother had spent a long time managing. It was the annual festival in Konoha, and Sakura was dressed to the nines, her kimono — a newly added batch to her growing dresser, and a new set of hair ornaments that she couldn’t care less about when being distracted by yet another dichotomy.

“Hi mister, you really needed to have your eyes checked.”

They escaped her mouth before she could stop them — but then again many things escaped Sakura before she could manage them thoroughly. It endlessly worries Mebuki. After all, she had only this one daughter, an amalgamation of bored ingenuity, negligence, and a raucous tendency for pilgrimage.

Not really the best mix, but Mebuki can’t really choose what sort of child would form out of her and her husband — better to deal with what they have. The teen whom Sakura had just called out blinked slowly at her. He was incredibly tall, so much so that Sakura had to crane her neck to see his expression — or what little of it was revealed through his customary movements.

But Sakura was more than curious about the meaning behind every subtle motion of his actions. And he was fast too, Sakura noted inwardly, as he suddenly bent a knee to bring himself to her height. He had a warm smile painted on his face, one that looked as if it were drawn from a portrait — so perfectly carved from porcelain, it seemed undeserving of the populace’s gaze.

“I’ll take you to your mother.”

Is what he said, voice the barest hint of silver and the texture of silks. Sakura could vaguely hear the crowd of people as they went on their merry way, enjoying the festivities as much as they could — as she should too, but her senses were occupied for a moment with tingles in her nape. Of the drawing, she couldn’t quite see even no matter how much she bends gravity.

Her mother tells her it was a circle with three bisecting lines. Sakura thought it sounded boring and not that creative. Mebuki admonished her after that, telling her that every line or blotch in a mark has its meaning; they symbolize her soulmate’s life — their entire existence.

“I don’t know where my Kaa-san was,” Sakura admits, without a whiff of concern.

Her nape continued to tingle, and Sakura reached out to scratch it — a challenging feat given her current outfit, which could have strangled her if it were sentient. Well, I think I can help you with that, would you mind?" He stood up, with Sakura reaching only to his hip. He leaned down, opened his arms, but didn’t lift her yet — as if he was waiting for her permission. Sakura nodded, more than glad to be carried. She kicked the air with her hurting feet as warmth encased her, shielding her from the cold spring breeze. The tingle disappeared too, and Sakura happily tightened her hold on the teen’s neck, not noticing how he was still for a moment before eventually relaxing.

Drowsiness hit Sakura like a tempting lull as she dozed on a stranger’s shoulder. “We’re here, Haruno-san.”

“Ish—Sssakuraa,” she could only slur.

Maybe he said something, but Sakura couldn’t hear it anymore, utterly immersed in the dream of sands that obstructed her vision.

“I’m sorry you have to do this, Uchiha-san,” Mebuki apologetically says as she gently takes her daughter, who was slumped on Uchiha’s shoulder. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt the teen’s grip tighten, his muscles coiling as if he were anticipating an attack.

They were quite far from the crowd, as Mebuki’s initial intention had been to wait for Kizashi, who had brought Sakura with him. Who could have expected that Sakura would seize the chance to escape?

“It’s no trouble, Haruno-san, in hindsight, I should be grateful.” Mebuki pats the back of Sakura’s head as she frowns at his choice of words. The teen removes the band covering his entire lower arm, revealing a tattoo that explicitly depicts a crescent moon, its incomparable elegance reflecting a fully blooming cherry blossom tree — the namesake of her daughter. An understanding expression dawned on her face.

Mebuki carefully looked at the teen, critical eyes narrowing. The Uchiha were not as respected by the civilian residents as they once were, their actions during the Kyuubi incident adding fuel to the flames of doubt. If it was discovered that her daughter was tied to an Uchiha — Mebuki didn’t know how she would react; perhaps she would commit an act of defiance for the first time in years. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world, and Mebuki would not allow meddling busybodies with no association to them to interfere.

Her eyes widened slightly when the aforementioned Uchiha bowed deeply before her. “I wouldn’t wish for anything but, — I would like to ask for permission to be… part of her life, if just—,” Mebuki cuts him off.

“How could I prohibit it?” Mebuki sighed, pushing him slightly upward with her other hand. “It’s not my place, Uchiha-san, but then I couldn’t continue to call my daughter’s soulmate that, could I?”

“I apologise, I’m Uchiha Itachi,” so formal, Mebuki mused.

Sakura whimpered in her arms, and Mebuki caressed her hair, which she now noticed was askew. The air was getting cold, and it was better to wait for her husband at home in this state. After making up her mind, Mebuki regarded Itachi with a gleam in her green eyes.

“Would you mind having Karaage for dinner, Itachi-san?”

Itachi blinked at this; it was a straightforward invitation for him and a chance to determine if he was worthy of their child. “I won’t,” he can only reply, causing Mebuki to purse her lips, withholding a laugh.

“Then you might need to ask for permission from Mikoto; she might not take it well that I’ve invited her son for dinner without her consent.” Mebuki winks at him, and walks away, humming a melody in a shushing motion to a mumbling Sakura.

Itachi stood there for a long moment, his silhouette mixing with the shadows of the trees. Still surprised that she knew his mother, he shook his head and walked away. He had to prepare for dinner, and his time was limited.

“A dinner with your soulmate?” Mikoto repeated as if in a trance before her gaze hardened as she looked at her eldest. “We need to have a new Kimono for you, Yori-san; perhaps he could have something of your size. And of course, flowers! And gifts! — how could I forget?”

“Listen, Itachi-chan, the ones you’re going to court will be the parents for now. Mebuki’s daughter is the same age as Sasuke, isn’t she? We will need to find something suitable.”

Mikoto was in a whirlwind of planning, and the men and a boy in the house tactfully kept silent, knowing better than to speak if they had nothing useful to say.

“Can I go with Nii-san?” piped Sasuke.

“Now is not the time, Sasu-chan, Itachi was directly invited — soon, perhaps, we will be the ones to invite them. There will be a considerable amount to discuss.”

Fugaku only grunts at this, flipping an unread chapter of a report disguised as a book. Mikoto disappears into a corner and reappears, dressed up and with a bag in hand.

“Itachi-chan, come with me; you will be needed in the selection of gifts.” She was already walking out the door, and Itachi stood up to follow her, poking Sasuke in the forehead as he passed by.

“And Sasu-chan, do the homework that Kouda-san gave you!” Sasuke pouts at this.

With that, both mother and son disappeared.

Sasuke still moping at the thought of doing the homework that his tutor gave him, but couldn't ignore the order from his mother and looked up hopefully to his father

"Tou-san can you help me with my homework?" 

Fugaku regards him silently

"An Uchiha should know how to do things unaided" 

After saying that he also stood and walked in the direction of his study, leaving Sasuke to sulk at the dinner table

Sakura blinked at the whirling sands, she looked at her feet, the ground was all sand, and they glowed golden yellow and pale brown. She can hear the sound of metal hitting metal, similar to when her father sharpens their kitchen knives.

It was not long before Sakura scrunched her nose at the smell, and in a blink, the golden sands weren't that golden anymore — crimsons covered them like vibrant blooming flowers, like a blanket covering the seemingly endless planes.

There was the tingle again but now it's on her arm, it was persistent and as if wanting her to do something. 

And stood several miles away from her was a boy with that same vibrant hue on the ground, his fingers were raised in weird curves, but Sakura couldn't see anything on his fingers.

She knew what the drawing on her arm looked like, her mother said it was a scorpion holding a thread with its tail. But Sakura thought it looked like a cockroach at first, not really a cockroach but maybe its cousin. Her arm feels like being tapped with a pinprick of needles — it doesn't exactly hurt but Sakura still frowns at the sensation.

Maybe she needs to hug him too? 

The sand swept like a curtain between them and went the boy with it.

Sakura wakes up to the sight of her elephant plushie, hugging her — or Sakura hugging him. It doesn't matter which it was.

She found her mother making a complete murder in the kitchen and her father on the table with a plethora of dishes in small plates, chopsticks in hand with a serious look in his commonly guileless face.

"How's the Karaage, is there something wrong or did I forget anything to put on it?—ANSWER ME KIZASHI!" 

Her blonde hair was in a severe bun, not a strand standing and her expression looked harried and nervous at the slow reply of her husband

Kizashi slowly put down his chopsticks and looked at no one "This is a dish befitting to serve the gods" 

Mebuki exhaled a loud sigh of relief at that. Sakura only looked at them weirdly and shook her head before making her way to Kizashi

"Tou-san" Sakura tugs at his shirt 

He was still in a reverie as he replied to Sakura "Yes sweetheart" 

"What's with Kaa-san?" As if summoned out from the realm inhabitation Kizashi leaned down and picked Sakura to put into his lap

"Remember the guy that found you at the festival?" 

Sakura mulled it over. 

"I'll take you to your mother"

Sakura's face brightens "The guy that has problems with his eyes!" 

Kizashi frowns " Problems with his eyes huh " He mutters under his breath then places stern eyes on Sakura 

"Sakura" She flinched at this, face contorting 

"don't ever separate from me or your mother again when we are going to places with large people. " He paused

"What if you got lost? Or been taken away by strangers. What if we won't ever see you again?"  

"I won't do it again" Sakura can only meekly say. She's not afraid of being taken though, but the image of never seeing her parents again made her tear up.

It felt really cold, and painful — like she experienced it before and didn't want to know that feeling again. The clouded taste of salt on her tongue, the indistinct sound of lightning, and the muffled scent of ink and rain.

"I promise" her voice an echo of finality. Her father only holds her close, his warmth seeping through her clothes. It doesn't feel enough but for now, it is.

"Sakura, have you washed your hands?"

"Yes Kaa-san" Sakura dutifully replies as she obediently puts her hand on her lap while sitting in front of the table

"Kizashi! Take off that horrendous band on your hair" 

There was a knock on the door and Mebuki looked down for any imperfection to herself and her daughter and husband, then finally nodded in satisfaction. 

Sakura could only hear her mother's warm 'Welcome Itachi-san' before the same guy that lifted her to the festival entered with her mother

Sakura brightened at the sight of him feeling a rush of the dazed haze of sensation coursing through her but she didn't dare open her mouth, as her mother was still having her piercing gaze at Sakura.

It would be a long night indeed 

Sakura didn't get to say a single word to their guest that night, but a brief flicker of his stares seemed to convey a message entirely and Sakura was a little happy with that —thoughts of crimson clouds and bleeding rain seeped through the plunging portion of mind, even though she didn't know exactly why .

Every tilt and indication he made in each of her smiles made her feel she was floating in clouds — which is stupid and silly . But she couldn't erase the image of obsidian in his eyes, they were so dark, hypnotising in its mystery and she was being pulled into it — which is ridiculous. It has been a while since she was eight or twelve and she's passed this pace…

But she's five — not eight or twelve 

Sakura vigorously shakes her head, she's maybe thinking too much.

She lies down and chases out the cold that seems to enter her, with her thick blanket and closes her eyes.

She dreams of moving pinwheel eyes and red clouds in black clothing. She dreams of a man with cracks on his face and solemnity that he seems to wear like a brand of clothing

"Next time, don't put your cores where hearts were supposed to be" She just manages to blurt out as she sees the familiar shade of red again, sakura regards the red-haired boy with golden sands swirling in his eyes and mind that could have been immortal, in another way.

He was older than her — maybe he was double her age, but he was a boy . That, she is sure.

He stopped what he was doing before continuing, he was ignoring her completely which incensed Sakura a little.

Sakura looked closely at what he was doing. He was sitting fiddledling with what she could recognize was a large puppet, not like the small ones sold in shops but this one was bigger than Sakura.

She grew bored with watching and not doing anything so Sakura drew down a rough outline of a seal, even if she didn't know where she saw it from — she thinks that it was meant to strengthen something or support it — she didn't remember.

Maybe she can take up drawing too, looking down at the mess of doodles she did with a small wood splinter she found, the ground cemented but she could still make out a few lines — her companion didn't voice any dissatisfaction so they continued with each other's work.

Her mother brought her to the playground the next day. It takes only a few minutes for Sakura to not see a glimpse of her mother's shadow and she runs off to the forest near the playground.

She's thinking of finding bugs today, maybe the one that can match her arm — she ignores the thought that it wasn't a bug . Or anything not remotely the same or she had seen before, something intriguing, something unique .

She found a field of flowers in the forest, unfortunately, she wasn't the only one there. There were already five girls giggling and about as they took off every single petal of a flower they had in hand.

"Make some friends Sakura" 

That is what her mother said, and with a churning gut, she did as she was walking near the girls. But Sakura doesn't know how to make some friends — do friends watch slugs too?

She'd have to ask to know

"Hi, I'm Sakura, can I join you?" She asks for depredation in her voice while fiddling with the ribbon on her dress.

All the girls looking at her made her slightly nervous, Sakura didn't have girls to play with in the past after all.

There was a girl with short purple hair and she raised one brow in Sakura's direction "Your hair looks stupid" 

Sakura only blinks at this, a film flashing in her eyes, as she smiles sweetly while touching her head

"Is it? I think your hair looked pretty though" 

The purple-haired girl blushed at that then puffed out her chest with her arms crossed

"I- I guess you could join us" Sakura smiled at them vision clearing from their previous mist, she sat exactly on the purple girl's side as the other girls gave her a curious look

"I know several braids that I think would suit you, my Kaa-san taught me how to shape it like a crown" 

"Are you good at it?" She asked with suspicion, and Sakura beams brilliantly 

"Of course!" Confidence is the key to winning others Tou-san told her

She can feel the hot wind lapping against her skin as Sakura once again opens her eyes to the endless plains of monochromatic sepias

He stood there again amidst the crimsons that seemed to follow him like a winding cloak, dead bodies littered around and beyond her vision and there he stood, in an indescribable feeling of magnificence and loneliness.

Golden brown orbs bored her, and Sakura thought they were beautiful –his eyes. She blinks and she thinks there is a hint of accusation in those beautiful, beautiful eyes but Sakura doesn't understand and doesn't know why.

She blinked again and the distance between them closed. She wonders then why there wasn't any crimson staining his clothes.

"I'm Sakura" 

She didn't have any urges to say nonsensical things this time, and it's only polite to start with names, isn't it?

He cocked his head slightly, the actions look lackadaisical and Sakura follows the lines that darken the shade beneath his eyes.

"Sasori" 

Sakura opened her mouth in slight surprise, and then her mouth formed into a bright grin, as she leaned slightly closer, wanting to see more of the intricacies of the universe depicted in his eyes. She forgot about the blood that dries quickly as the heat cooled down and he was giving her his attention for the first time.

"Do you believe in eternity, Sasori-san?" 

She speaks and it feels like it isn't her, Sasori blinks slowly at her and Sakura stops breathing

"Eternity…" he says each syllable "Is the essence of art" 

Of course, it is

She hears soft velvets and the ending piece of a theatre orchestra, his voice is anything but soft but it's captivating to hear when it reaches Sakura's ears. 

A scorpion holding a thread with it's tail

Of all her marks, Kaa-san told her that the one in her arm was the brightest, and the shade that Sakura favoured the most.

It was red, as the skies came dusk, red as cherries she loved, red as the blood she was so curious about, red as the boy that uses it as his primary paint on his wide canvas.

"Then do you believe in fate?" 

Burnt gold irises rolled as he turned his back on her and Sakura frowned.

"I don't waste time on such nonsense" 

Sakura sniffs in disgruntlement, visions of a broken man flicking at the speed of light in her eyes

"No wonder you might become the worst of them"

His only reply was the distance lengthening between them.

Sakura pouts.

With a dramatic sigh, she runs until she reaches him.

The itch lessened when she finally managed to get near him, and Sakura's body released its tension. She then noticed he was slowing his pace, an action that only made Sakura grin wider.

"Don't try creating eternity next time, when you can embody that word" 

For a second Sasori's step faltered, before continuing. He didn't know if it was anything useful to have someone who spouts quoted epithets for him, though the seals she carelessly carved on his floor certainly were.

"–I got these dreams you know but I don't how genius or what kind of madness it is to butcher your own body, in my humble perspective that's just plain dumbassery–"

He silently noted her fluency although not surprisingly, little could these days. It brought a small amount of relief to him that he wasn't paired down with someone dim-witted.

Her continued chatter didn’t make him act on the impulse to anyone who irritates him, but a vein ticked in Sasori's brows the longer it took.

"–I don't really but he seems to look like you, you know, but taller– "

"Sakura-san–" Sakura snaps her mouth shut

He turns his head to gaze down at her "Shut up."

Sakura pursed her lips holding back a whimper as the hairs on the back of her neck rose in intimidation.

He continued walking and as fast as her small legs could catch up, Sakura ran for him.

Never in her blighted imagination that cockroaches could be this mean when transformed into another species.